Death of a Gentle Lady - M. C. Beaton [23]
Hamish spoke up from his corner. ‘You must have been very angry when your mother threw you out.’
‘What are you talking about? Mother was devoted to me. But I wanted my independence.’
‘I overheard her telling you to get out,’ said Hamish. ‘It was on the day I called on your mother.’
Sarah glared at him, finished writing, and then said defiantly, ‘Well, no one wants to admit to having been sent away.’
‘It would be as well to stick to the truth,’ said Jimmy harshly. ‘You were suddenly forced into finding work. What had you done before by way of employment?’
‘I married young but got divorced two years ago.’
Again Hamish’s voice. ‘And you blamed your mother for the divorce. What happened?’
All the truculence and defiance left Sarah, and she seemed to crumple. ‘I had an affair, just a brief fling. I don’t know how Mother got to know of it but she told Allan, my husband. I hadn’t ever worked so I told her she owed me and she could keep me.’
‘That seems a good reason for murder,’ said Jimmy.
‘My own mother! Don’t be stupid.’
‘Now, about the maid, who we now know was called Irena. Was there anything that happened at the family party that she might have overheard and used to blackmail someone?’
‘No, but she caused a lot of trouble. Mark was flirting with her and so was Andrew.’
More questioning, and then she was allowed to leave.
‘Now what?’ asked Jimmy. ‘The children, I suppose. Neither of them married. We’ll have John in first.’
John Gentle drifted in and sat down opposite Jimmy.
He seemed to be thinking of something other than the interview. He gazed dreamily at the ceiling while Jimmy restarted the tape recorder and read out his name, age, and address.
‘Where were you during the last five days?’ asked Jimmy.
John studied his nails. Then he said, ‘In my studio in London.’
‘You are an artist?’
‘Yes.’
‘Have you witnesses?’
‘My friend, Robbie. He lives with me.’
‘I want you to write down his full name and also where you were in the evenings.’
John bent over the paper and began to write slowly. Hamish studied him curiously. When the family had first arrived, John had looked frightened. Not any more. He was almost too calm.
When he had finished, Hamish asked, ‘Have you taken tranquillizers?’
‘Oh, yes. Lots. My nerves are delicate, you know.’
The questions continued, and John answered them all in the same dreamy manner.
He was finally dismissed and told to send his sister in.
What a name to be cursed with, thought Jimmy, when you’re a stocky, tough-looking girl. Her large, almost swollen lips were somehow unnerving.
Twinkle answered all the questions he had already put to the others with a sort of brisk efficiency. She was a computer expert and worked for a merchant bank in the City. They could check that she was at her desk the day her mother was murdered.
When she had gone, Jimmy said, ‘What a mouth!’
‘Trout pout,’ said Hamish. ‘Collagen.’
‘How do you know these things?’
‘I observe,’ said Hamish.
‘Well, observe this. We seem to have at least two motives if we can break their alibis – Sarah and Mark.’
‘If it was one of the family, they’d need to have had an accomplice,’ said Hamish. ‘The woman who made that phone call was tall and slim.’
Jimmy’s phone rang. He listened carefully and then rang off. ‘Dr Forsythe’s done the toxicology report. Date-rape drug in the sherry. She must have felt herself blacking out and tried to vomit the drug up. It was the blow on the head that killed her. Only one of the wineglasses had been used. The other one was clean.’
‘I feel if we could solve the murder of Irena, then we could find out who murdered Mrs Gentle,’ said Hamish. ‘Anything about her from the Russians?’
‘Not yet. They should come up with something, however. It’s not as if it’s political.’
‘Unless her protector, Grigori, is in the mafia and the Russian mafia has links to politics,’ said Hamish.
‘I tell you what, Hamish. Get back down to Lochdubh and see if you can find that woman or at least the bike. I’m going to have them in again.’
Chapter Five
Like the dew on the mountain,
Like the foam