On the evening of the following day, Kate and Daniel and Steve sat on a hillside terrace above the forested coast which lies south and east of Sestri Levante. The sun, like a huge blood-orange, was falling visibly towards its nightly drowning in the Mediterranean, but on this particular evening the glitter was not blinding, merely magical. The restaurant had been recommended to them by Rico Damiani, the Italian lawyer, whose size alone demonstrated his expertise in such matters. In fact, the Hotel Francesca, to which it belonged, was still closed until the start of the summer season, but a telephone call from the maestro had opened its doors for the three of them, and had summoned up what was to prove a memorable meal. Its fragrance occasionally wafted towards them as they sipped their apéritifs.
They had all but recovered from the events of the past three days, including endless, and endlessly repetitive, questioning, in Italian and English, from an assortment of policemen and lawyers. They had slept. They could now, with a continuing sense of surprise, piece together the strange story in which they had played integrated but disparate parts.
Daniel said, ‘I can’t understand how I was so dumb. Time and again I had it all, and I couldn’t see it for looking.’
Steve gestured with his glass. ‘But you didn’t have it all, did you? Kate had parts and you had parts, but you were in different countries, you couldn’t put them together.’
As if still unconvinced, Kate said, ‘I suppose it was Helen’s doing, it had to be.’
‘No doubt of that.’ Daniel was positive.
‘My God, I never liked Auntie but you’ve got to hand it to her. Such an incredible … daring plan, and she nearly got away with it.’
‘Would have done if it hadn’t been for that useless shelf in my little cottage.’ He banged a fist on the table. ‘But Rosemary Howard told me Helen was the prime mover and I never picked it up.’ He recounted the old woman’s words at their second meeting: how their grandmother had said that it was all Helen’s fault, that she ‘had only married Mark for the money, because he was the heir to Longwater, and come hell or high water that was what she intended to get’. He groaned at the memory. ‘And do you know what I said? I said, “But Helen had already got Longwater years before.” I missed it completely—just as I missed the point of what Grandmother said about Mark staying away too long, never coming back to see her.’
‘But she was the one who threw him out of England.’
‘Yes, we talked about that too. Rosemary told her to her face—she didn’t want him to come and visit her, wouldn’t have spoken to him if he had.’
‘Absolutely right,’ said Kate. Then, catching her breath: ‘Oh, I see. Grandmother meant that if she’d seen him once or twice in all that time …’
‘Sixteen years.’
‘… she’d have noticed that things weren’t kosher—she’d have realized pretty quickly, this wasn’t her son.’
‘Exactly. Whereas after sixteen years you’d naturally expect big changes. And by then their relationship was non-existent anyway, they were barely speaking to each other. That’s why she took so long to tumble to it.’
‘I wonder how she tumbled in the long run?’
‘Maybe,’ observed Steve, ‘an outside person, like this Rosemary, made some comment and set her thinking. Or the phoney Mark himself could have slipped up without knowing it. He was walking a tightrope, wasn’t he?’
‘Could’ve been instinct,’ added Kate. ‘There’s always a deep thing between mothers and sons—perhaps she just … felt it.’
The three of them brooded on this question, to which they’d never know the answer. They refilled their glasses from bottles which the waiter had left on the table—it was that sort of restaurant.
Eventually Kate asked, ‘When do you suppose the idea actually came to Helen?’
Steve thought it must have been when she realized that Edward Camden was genuinely in love with her, genuinely hooked.
‘Are women ever that sure?’
‘Aren’t they?’ He grinned. ‘Aren’t you? I’m hooked.’
‘According to Rosemary,’ said Daniel, ‘Mark and Helen were the toast of the town when they first went to Europe—top of everyone’s list. Then Mark began to go too far. His naughty little pranks began getting on people’s nerves, and pretty soon they were getting the universal cold shoulder. Nobody wanted to know.’
Steve nodded. ‘Let’s say it was sometime around then that they met Camden. He and Helen started their love affair. I wonder if Mark minded.’
Kate thought he was probably too far gone. ‘Falling in and out of every kind of bed. I bet Helen refused to sleep with him. I’d have refused.’
‘Did your Dr Montieri think he was ill by then?’ asked Daniel. ‘Before Tangier?’
‘He couldn’t know. But he was sure that Tangier finished him off. That was really the beginning of the end.’
‘He must have been pretty far gone before she put her plan to Camden.’
‘By God!’ Steve laughed. ‘I bet it floored him. Can you imagine it? I’d have run a mile.’
‘But he wasn’t you, my love. As far as the lawyers can make out he was a good-looking, well-educated, penniless bum. No family in England, only a much-divorced mother last heard of in California.’
‘Do bums go to Eton?’
‘By the dozen,’ replied Daniel. ‘And that would have been a big bond between him and Uncle Mark—both Etonians—they were the same kind of man.’
‘And looked a bit the same too,’ said Kate. ‘Enough the same anyway. I wonder if that’s why Helen chose him.’
‘Highly likely. Anyway she put it to Camden, and Camden wasn’t me, he didn’t run a mile, he agreed.’
Kate smiled. ‘You might have agreed too, in your younger days. From penniless bum to Lord of the Manor of Longwater, one of the richest men in England.’
Daniel shook his head disbelievingly. ‘But how did she do it, Kate? Did your people in Lazzetta give you any clues?’
‘Reading between their lines, yes. She played a waiting-game. Nobody was speaking to them any more, they’d been travelling around à trois for over a year. The contessa said they landed up in Verona. Fair enough. While they were there, Helen rented the villa above Lazzetta and waited until Mark was obviously dying. That was the vital turning-point, the … what’s the word?’
‘Crux,’ supplied Daniel.
‘It called for exact timing.’
‘And,’ added Steve, ‘nerves of steel.’
‘When they left Verona she had a mortally sick husband and a healthy lover. When they got to Lazzetta she had a mortally sick lover and a healthy husband. Everyone fell for it, even Dr Montieri.’
‘Everyone,’ Steve pointed out, ‘except a certain lieutenant of the carabinieri.’
‘He was a sergeant then.’
Daniel shook his head. ‘I missed some of that. The flight suddenly came up and hit me, I thought I was going to pass out.’
Kate laid her hand over his and held it while Steve elaborated. ‘I can’t help feeling sorry for Canetti: he had an ambitious wife and too many children. Of course, it was his duty as chief in Lazzetta to ask for the dead man’s passport.’
‘We know they were quite alike,’ observed Daniel. ‘I wonder if he noticed the difference right away.’
‘I wonder too. By Mediterranean standards they were just two large fair Englishmen, both with moustaches.’
Kate said, ‘Do you think Camden always had a moustache, or did Helen make him grown one to look more like Uncle Mark?’
‘Sounds her style—attention to detail.’ Steve shrugged and continued: ‘So Canetti had this large family. And policemen are notoriously underpaid. I bet he’d spent years keeping an eye open for the main chance. Don’t we all? I know I did until my luck changed. This was his main chance and he grabbed it with both hands.’
‘So they had to bribe him.’
‘What else? They had no alternative. And remember, Camden was soon going to acquire Ackland money. He and Canetti must have made a long-term deal—further regular payments in exchange for a continued safeguarding of the situation.’
‘Very Italian,’ said Kate. ‘They’ve been at it for thousands of years.’
Steve smiled. ‘Very human, regardless of nationality.’
‘Complicated, though.’
‘No, love, not at all, Canetti just made sure, when he left Lazzetta for higher things in Sestri or wherever, that one of the lads was paid a small retainer to watch the pot. And after a while what shows up?’
‘Me. Not minding my own business.’
‘Correct. Promptly reported to Lieutenant Canetti who promptly reports to so-called Uncle Mark.’
‘You’ve jumped ahead,’ said Daniel. ‘You know what went on in Lazzetta, I don’t.’
‘Where were we?’
‘Mark Ackland died and was buried. What next?’
Kate took up the story, obliquely recounted to her by the contessa and Dr Montieri. ‘As soon as she could decently do so, Helen put more space between herself and events—moved her new husband on to La Spezia.’
‘Where,’ said Steve, ‘our luscious friend Julia suspected a thing or two but couldn’t put her finger on specifics.’
‘She didn’t get much time, did she?’
Daniel glanced at his sister. ‘Corsica right away?’
‘Pretty well, yes. And in Corsica they stayed. That must have driven Helen bananas. All she wanted was to be Queen of Longwater, but she had to stick it out in Cortiano as a farmer’s wife. Have children. Let Edward Camden grow into the skin of Mark Ackland—a middle-aged Mark Ackland.’
Steve shook his head in unwilling admiration. ‘The waiting-game. What a woman! How old was she then?’
‘When they arrived in Corsica? She wasn’t even thirty.’
‘A bit young for exile.’
‘She paid a few visits to England.’ Kate could dimly remember some of those visits: awkward glimpses of childhood when she and Daniel were staying with their grandparents at Longwater: the ‘foreign’ cousins. They came with their mother, only with their mother. The story obviously was that Mark, still smarting from the way old Lydia had treated him, refused to meet her. This antagonism would carry over nicely when he finally reached England; by then the gulf between mother and son was too wide to bridge; they seldom even tried. No doubt Helen nurtured the seeds of estrangement with care and cunning.
‘How long were they in Corsica?’ asked Daniel.
‘Eight years.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes. I met a lovely woman called Gianetta who’d been nurse to all the children. She was a bit puzzled by the eight years too. She said, “It was as if they were hiding from something or somebody.” Pretty acute! She thought Mark, as I suppose we must call him, had done something wicked in the past.’
‘He had.’
‘Sure. But that wasn’t what they were hiding from. They just knew that transition takes time. He aged. He produced three children. He put on weight. He became a respected tenant and farmer. If anyone in England knew or cared they probably said, “I hear Mark Ackland’s grown up. At last!’”
‘By God,’ said Steve, ‘it must have been a stomach-churning moment when Helen decided the waiting-game was over—when they finally went back to Longwater.’
Daniel wasn’t so sure. ‘Sixteen years is a hell of a long time. Mark’s old friends would have changed as much as he had. Anyway they were scattered all over the place—none of them had clapped eyes on him for at least a decade. And most important of all, Lydia was nearly blind, didn’t want to have anything to do with her elder son, and had retired to Woodman’s.’
‘Why did she do that?’
‘You don’t imagine,’ said Kate, ‘she’d have shared the big house, her house, with those two? Never in a thousand years. And by then her sight had almost gone, she was happier in a confined space.’
‘All the same, that first meeting with her must have scared Camden witless.’
‘Probably. But Helen was there to stage-manage. Knowing Grandmother, she probably spent the whole time telling him how much she missed his brother—our dad. And anyway, Steve, it was all worthwhile, it worked. He took over the place and made a good job of it. The county must have been thunderstruck.’
‘And Helen finally got everything she wanted.’
‘Did she ever!’ Kate laughed softly. ‘In a couple of ticks she’d established herself as the richest and most influential woman in the southern counties. And the most brilliant hostess—her houseparties even hit the headlines. And it went on for years, they must have thought they were as secure as the Bank of England.’
Daniel grimaced. ‘Let’s say the Bank of Geneva.’
‘Good point. And then … then Grandmother had her little moment of inspiration. We’ll never know what brought it on, and it doesn’t much matter. She just knew, without a shadow of doubt, that the man lording it over Longwater wasn’t her son. She summoned her best friend, poor old Rosemary. Right, Daniel?’
‘Yes. And drove her up the wall by telling her half-truths she couldn’t properly understand …’
‘Grandmother all over. She couldn’t bring herself to really trust anyone, not one hundred per cent.’
‘Rosemary was afraid she’d flipped and was going to land herself in all kinds of legal trouble. That’s why she advised her to consult her lovely son, Andrew the lawyer. Big mistake! Lydia was always a sharp judge of character, she didn’t trust him and she was dead right. But by then she must have said a little too much. Andrew popped over to Longwater, currying favour or even with an eye on future blackmail, and told Helen and the man who wasn’t our Uncle Mark that the old lady was going to cause big, big trouble. He didn’t know what he was talking about but they damn well did.’
‘What a moment!’ Kate shook her head. ‘Macbeth and The Wife weren’t in it!’
‘“But screw your courage to the sticking-place, and we’ll not fail.” Edward Camden did just that. I suppose he asked for a private interview—probably suggested Sally should be sent out for a while in case of eavesdropping.’
Steve said, ‘I wonder she wasn’t scared, I wonder she let the girl go.’
‘Grandmother scared! That would have been the day. And she never, but never, discussed family matters if any stranger might overhear. Go on, Daniel.’
‘Well, we can only guess. I suppose Grandmother told him she knew he was an impostor and could prove it.’
‘I wonder if Auntie Helen was there too.’
‘Could’ve been. Anyway there was no choice of options, was there? Camden got hold of that spare newel-post and killed her with it. Accident. Blind old lady falls downstairs when faithful companion is absent and hits her head on identical newel-post.’
‘And,’ said Steve, ‘it worked.’
‘Yes—reprieved. They were probably feeling nicely relaxed again by the time two young carpenters fished Rosemary’s letter out from behind the panelling in my kitchen. And Kate took off.’
‘We both took off.’
‘I was a slow starter, I was chicken. But Kate, do you realize the whole thing was there in that letter, staring us in the face from the word go? She wrote how sorry she was she’d lost her temper when Lydia mentioned the Ackland blood. Rosemary thought she was being a boring old snob, but that wasn’t what she meant at all, she was just being practical.’
‘And the blood thing,’ asked Steve, ‘it’s conclusive evidence?’
‘Absolutely. A-Negative is quite a rare group. Grandfather Ackland and both his sons belonged to it, and so do I. Uncle Mark’s medical records in several countries will list A-Negative. Edward Camden’s O-Positive.’
‘Even Helen,’ added Kate, ‘couldn’t change that.’
‘They didn’t intend to use any local doctors. And their man in Harley Street knew nothing about other members of the Ackland family, so why would Helen care about blood groups, who was going to ask?’
‘You asked.’
‘Only because we were already on to them. Good thing Tom remembered he’d had a riding accident—good thing Angus Ramsay followed it up for me.’
‘Must’ve shocked him rigid.’
‘It did, or he’d never have called Oxenham and I’d have been up the creek without a paddle.’
‘Anyway,’ said Steve, ‘some surgeon in Venice gave you the clincher. How did Uncle fall out of that window, do we know?’
‘Probably pissed. Or stoned.’
‘Or pushed,’ suggested his sister, unconsciously echoing Rosemary Howard. ‘I bet a lot of people wouldn’t have minded pushing him by then.’
Daniel gave a small sigh of satisfaction. ‘Yes, the metal plate on his leg’s the clincher all right. First thing the Coroner saw when they opened the coffin.’
‘So your grandmother was right all along the line.’
Kate laughed. ‘Of course. She always was—and didn’t she let you know it!’