Death of a Gentle Lady - M. C. Beaton [37]
‘I honestly can’t think anyone would want it. Why did you want to marry Irena?’
‘She came to me in great distress. Mrs Gentle had fired her. She was worried about her visa and what she would do when it ran out. I know it sounds silly now, but she was so upset that I decided to marry her. That way she could stay. I don’t want to distress you, but you must have heard by now that Mrs Gentle, or someone who was helping her, may have killed Irena.’
‘That’s ridiculous. Think of the difference in size alone. Irena was a great big strapping girl, and my mother was old and frail.’
‘I don’t think she was exactly frail. Irena was killed by a sharp blow to the head. Given enough time and peace and quiet, your mother could well have dragged her over and tipped her into the trunk.’
‘I still can’t believe it. Did Irena confide in you much?’ asked Andrew.
‘No. It stands to reason,’ said Hamish. ‘I thought I was helping a Turkish girl called Ayesha, not a top-flight Russian hooker.’
‘I’ll leave you to finish your coffee,’ said Andrew abruptly, and rose and left the room.
Hamish stared after him. Now, there’s someone worried that Irena told me something the family don’t want me to know. He was suddenly hungry. There was a loaf of bread on the counter. He cut two slices, then opened the fridge, took out a packet of butter and one of ham, and made himself a couple of sandwiches. He poured another cup of coffee and sat down at the table.
He was interrupted by daughter Sarah. ‘What do you think you are doing?’ she demanded.
‘Mr Andrew Gentle kindly offered me coffee and told me to take my time finishing it,’ said Hamish blandly. ‘I brought my sandwiches with me,’ he added, hoping that Sarah would not notice the loaf was now missing two slices.
She sat down suddenly next to him and ran her fingers through her hair. ‘This is awful.’
‘It should be over soon.’
She clutched his arm. ‘You know?’
‘I simply meant you should be able to leave very soon. Do you think it possible that your mother could have killed Irena?’
‘I confess I found my mother pretty cruel. But murder! No, it’s ridiculous. She liked power over people, you know. She often wondered out loud why Irena put up with it, and wondered whether she were an illegal alien. If only my mother hadn’t been murdered after Irena was killed, I might have thought Irena had done it.’
‘At the family party, could Irena have possibly overheard anything that might lead her to blackmail your mother? I mean, why should Mrs Gentle, after having treated her so badly, suddenly decide to give her a wedding reception and ten thousand pounds?’
‘Nothing I can think of. There was a lot of friction because Mark was stirring things up, oiling to Mother and being poisonous to all of us behind her back.’
‘He must be delighted that he benefits from the will and Mrs Gentle didn’t have time to change it.’
‘He should be the prime suspect, but it appears he has a cast-iron alibi.’
‘Do you all have alibis?’
‘Yes, of course. But the police seem determined to try to break them. That’s why we’re still all here. That Russian inspector is the worst. She raps out question after question.’
John Gentle, Sarah’s nephew, drifted into the kitchen. ‘Consorting with the enemy, Sarah?’
‘I think he’s on our side,’ said Sarah with a measured look at Hamish. ‘After all, Irena nearly tricked him into marriage.’
John smiled maliciously as he settled himself into a chair opposite Hamish. ‘She was trying to hook a bigger fish,’ he said.
‘What? Who?’ demanded Hamish.
‘Our dear Mark, that’s who. She was flirting with him like mad. They went out for a walk together. When they came back, I heard them in the hall. Irena was crying quite prettily and saying, “You must help me. I don’t want to marry this policeman.” She must have overheard Mark goading us by saying he was going to inherit. You should have seen his face when Grandmother told us she was going to change her will and cut Mark out. Irena was hovering in the background.