The Murders of Richard III - Elizabeth Peters [86]
“It is true that that particular deduction told me very little,” Jacqueline said with freezing dignity. “But I had already decided that Sir Richard might be the intended victim. For in a sense, Richard the Third was the last of this cast of characters to die a violent death. The others all survived into the next act. Shakespeare never wrote that play.”
Strangways muttered something that sounded like “fanciful.” But he didn’t say it aloud, and Jacqueline did not take up the gauntlet.
“Now I’m going to anticipate Thomas’s objection,” she said briskly. “I can see it smoldering in his eagle eye. ‘The best-laid plans of murderers go oft a-gley’—whatever that means. Perhaps one of the jokes was meant to be a fatal one, but it misfired. Is that what you were thinking, Thomas?”
“Forget it. I can see the counterarguments. The comedian had plenty of time to correct a mistake. He must have known I was still breathing when he put me in the barrel. Percy had a mild dose of the drug, and Rawdon’s emetic couldn’t possibly kill him. Furthermore, the plaster heads show that the joker had planned to continue through the ‘deaths’ of Hastings and Buckingham. He wouldn’t have bothered with the heads if he planned to commit a murder before that. Murder would mean the police, and a thorough search of the house and grounds.”
“It seems to me you are still on shaky ground,” Strangways said. “You have postulated a murder—on somewhat vague evidence—and decided that none of the victims of the jokes was the potential murderee. That still leaves a number of possibilities—all the women, Mr. Ellis—and me.”
“Oh, I considered you,” Jacqueline murmured. “You’d be a splendid murderee.”
“Hmmm. Then—”
“No one knew your identity until Saturday night,” Jacqueline pointed out, in the mildest of voices. “How could anyone plan to kill you when they didn’t know you would be here?”
Strangways did not reply.
“Of course the others were potential victims. But—Frank as the villain and Sir Richard as the victim—why, the motive practically hit me in the face. Not paranoia or historical mania, but two of the most comprehensible, commonplace motives for murder. Lust,” said Jacqueline with relish. “Lust and greed.
“As Thomas has reiterated, Sir Richard is an extremely rich man. The Ponsonby-Joneses are his only relatives. Who else would inherit his fortune? And who would know the contents of his will better than a member of the firm of solicitors Sir Richard employs?
“True, for all I knew, Sir Richard might have left his millions to animal shelters, or to a foundation perpetuating the memory of King Richard the Third. He doesn’t think much of young Percy. But his kindness and patience toward Percy’s mother are manifest. He wouldn’t leave her in need after his death. His feelings for Liz—”
Jacqueline paused, glancing at the girl. Liz rose.
“You’ll be able to discuss it more comfortably if I’m not here,” she said. “No, it’s quite all right; I was about to go in any case. I’m going to Richard.”
She walked slowly to the door and went out.
Thomas was struck rather painfully by the change in the girl. Even in old-fashioned robes she had been alert and alive, vibrant with health. The events of the past days might explain some of her pallor and her new air of fragility; but Thomas felt as if a ghost had passed. When the door closed, he turned to Jacqueline.
“Is she in love with Weldon, or with the reincarnation of Richard the Third? I’m not sure I like this.”
“I’m sure I don’t like it,” Philip murmured. “But there’s nothing I can do about it. Never mind, Thomas; they will always be united by their mutual passion for a dead man.”
The rector made a little sound of distress.
“They’ll do as well as most couples,” Kent said callously. “Ridiculous business, marriage…At least young Frank had wits enough to fall in love with a girl who had expectations.”
“Oh, he’s a practical fellow,” Jacqueline agreed. “He loves her—if you can call it love—but I’m sure her attractions