Rachel examined the message for some time, as if trying to decipher Egyptian hieroglyphics.
Oakes said quietly, ‘Are you all right?’
‘Can we be sure this is Palmer’s handwriting?’ she demanded.
‘Young checked it against the entries in his diary. Difficult to form a definitive view, with so little to go on. Even experts in calligraphy tend to hedge their opinions with caveats in such a case.’
‘But?’
‘But there’s a strong similarity, to say the least. The letter f in particular is distinctive. And the signature tallies.’
Rachel frowned at the sheet of paper. ‘The wording made me wonder if there was some clue hidden in the message. But if there is, at the moment I’m defeated by it.’
‘A complicated anagram?’ Jacob suggested.
She shook her head. ‘If so, it’s beyond me.’
‘I don’t think we need to overcomplicate matters,’ Oakes said. ‘For practical purposes, what happened looks tolerably certain. Palmer drank alcohol and a sleeping draught to steady his nerves before putting his head into the oven. He also wrote this suicide note, which looks like a confession to murder into the bargain.’
‘He doesn’t explain why he killed Bellamy,’ Jacob objected.
Oakes hesitated, perhaps wondering whether to maintain the fiction that Jacob was invisible, before grasping the nettle. The question had to be answered sooner or later.
‘Nothing unusual in that,’ he said curtly. ‘You can’t expect a fellow who is at the end of his tether to supply a logical analysis of his thought processes.’
‘What do we know of Palmer?’ Rachel asked.
Oakes shrugged. ‘Our initial enquiries suggest there isn’t a great deal to know. He has no criminal record and his practice is said to be eminently respectable.’
‘How boring. Is it possible he was dipping into his clients’ funds?’
‘If he was, I expect it will soon come out. But there’s no hint of disreputable conduct.’
Rachel raised her eyebrows. ‘A model citizen?’
‘If there is such a thing. Even the tax authorities haven’t put a black mark against his name. Wagstaffe reckons the most exciting thing that ever happened to the poor man was having his wife murdered. Sad epitaph, eh?’
‘Very sad,’ Rachel said. ‘What about the time of death? Dr Sowden seems to think Palmer’s head has been in the oven since yesterday afternoon. What do you make of the doctor?’
Oakes shrugged. ‘Strictly between you and me, Dr Sowden reminds me of Inspector Young.’
‘So, an affable man whose abilities are limited as well as being compromised by complacency?’
The detective allowed himself a rueful smile. ‘Harsh but fair. By the way, I never said that.’
‘Of course you didn’t, Inspector.’
‘As the resort has developed, Dr Sowden has prospered. He’s built up a lucrative practice, but I detect a strong preference for a quiet life. He said he likes to get his morning surgery over and done with quickly so he can nip off to the golf course. Examining Bellamy’s corpse was more than enough professional excitement for him. Now he’s had to cope with a second sudden death. However, Young assures me that Sowden has the Jacksons’ full confidence. When Lady Jackson was sick recently, he made sure she had the very best treatment and care.’
‘He certainly knows which side his bread is buttered,’ Rachel said grimly. ‘I presume he has no doubt that Palmer committed suicide?’
‘None whatsoever. I find it hard to argue.’
‘In the spirit of full disclosure, I need to tell you about my conversation with Virginia Penrhos. Her evidence bears out your thinking.’
She gave a brief account of what Virginia had said. Oakes listened with an intent expression, but as Jacob finished the sandwiches, his mind wandered. Was there any serious prospect of the cordial relationship between his two friends blossoming into a romance? He had no doubt the policeman found Rachel at least as much of an enigma as he did. In the eighteen months he’d known her, he’d learned a great deal but there was still a great deal more that he didn’t understand.
Her moods fluctuated with such bewildering rapidity. One moment she was cold, ruthless, and sardonic. The next she became witty, kind, and generous. Her single-mindedness was as frightening as her loyalties – to Jacob personally, as well as to the Truemans – were fierce. Like Oakes, she had a burning passion for justice, but their ideas of what constituted justice, and their methods for achieving it, could hardly be more different. Whereas the Scotland Yard man believed in rules and order, Rachel cared nothing for protocol. To her, all that mattered was the end result. While Oakes did his utmost to follow the letter of the law, Rachel behaved as if she was above it.
Was this because she was the daughter of a tyrannical judge? Jacob had never been able to make any sense of their relationship, but he’d noticed that Rachel never spoke directly of her father. She only referred – coldly and impersonally – to Judge Savernake. He was curious, but she and the Truemans had made it clear that their past life on Gaunt was not a topic for discussion. A mystifying taboo, but he dared not break it. Whatever the truth, he was convinced Oakes didn’t realise quite how far she was prepared to go to make sure malefactors got their just deserts.
So the two of them were chalk and cheese. Could such differences ever be reconciled? Unbidden, a strange thought slid into Jacob’s mind, as he listened to Rachel explaining what Virginia could see from the lantern room.
There’s hope for me yet.
*
‘For what it’s worth,’ Rachel said a few minutes later, ‘I don’t believe Virginia Penrhos was lying when she said nobody approached Shepherd’s Cottage yesterday afternoon. But perhaps she missed something.’
Turning to Jacob, Oakes said, ‘Caught up with your colleague yet? There’s an outside chance he may be a useful witness.’
Jacob shook his head. ‘Harley will be out and about, dodging the eager bounty hunters. I can leave a message that you’d like to speak to him.’
‘Thanks. I’m happy to leave him to the tender mercies of the local men. Inspector Young deserves a change of luck.’
‘Am I right in deducing, Inspector,’ Rachel asked, ‘that your work here is nearly done?’
‘Yes, there’s a limit to how long my superiors will allow me to enjoy the sea air when there’s no doubt that Basil Palmer committed suicide.’ Oakes relaxed in his chair. ‘We can’t be sure why he killed Bellamy, but his note accepts responsibility for the fortune teller’s death. Bizarre, yes, but when a man is so emotionally unbalanced…’
‘You’ve reported your views to the chief constable?’
‘My provisional conclusions pending the inquest, yes.’
Philip Oakes was invariably so precise, Jacob thought. Verging on prim. Rachel, he’d guess, was by instinct drawn to Cavaliers rather than Roundheads, but in the inspector’s case, she seemed happy to make an exception.
‘What does Major Busby have to say?’
‘His priority is to wrap up the case quickly. I gather he’s coming under pressure from Sir Harold Jackson to draw a line under recent events at the earliest opportunity. The major believes in doing the Right Thing. Keeping Sir Harold happy is a crucial ingredient of the Right Thing.’
‘Of course, you’ll have checked the whereabouts of people at about the time Bellamy was murdered. Are you sure that Louis Carson’s alibi holds water?’
Oakes nodded. ‘It’s clear that he – and his wife, for that matter – were kept busy with hotel business throughout that afternoon. We’d soon find out if they’d been absent without leave for any significant period of time.’
‘I’m sure you’re right,’ Rachel said meekly.
‘In case you’re wondering about other pillars of the local community, Dr Sowden happened to mention that he was playing golf with Sir Harold Jackson, the local vicar, and the manager of the Hemlock Bay branch of Martins Bank.’
She smiled. ‘I suppose we have to exonerate them from suspicion. Going back to Louis Carson, is he keen for the police to wrap up their inquiries?’
‘I doubt his opinion cuts much ice with the major. Sir Harold may be preparing for retirement, but his is the voice people listen to in Hemlock Bay.’
‘Did Major Busby actually say that Sir Harold is about to retire?’
‘That’s his belief. He says Sir Harold’s decision is perfectly understandable. The man has transformed this place. Until he came along, there was nothing here but sheep, sand, and sea. Unfortunately, his wife has been unwell.’
‘So I understand.’
‘These are hard times for entrepreneurs, but Sir Harold is lucky to have found someone who is capable of taking over the reins and has the financial means to buy him out.’
‘In due course, Louis Carson will become lord and master of Hemlock Bay?’
Oakes allowed himself a wry smile. ‘Perhaps he deserves your sympathy. Any more violent deaths in this neck of the woods, and he may find Sir Harold has sold him a rather expensive poisoned chalice.’
‘Not that you’re expecting any more deaths?’
‘Fingers crossed,’ he said grimly.
Jacob was getting bored. He coughed loudly and said, ‘I assume you don’t think this so-called premonition of Bellamy’s warrants further investigation?’
Oakes grimaced. ‘What do you suggest? Getting in touch via the spirit world?’
‘Not advisable,’ Rachel said. ‘That didn’t work too well for Jacob the last time he tried it.’
‘I don’t like loose ends,’ Jacob said in a mulish tone. ‘Why would a man travel all the way from Lancashire to London to spin such an unlikely yarn?’
‘Every investigation has loose ends,’ Oakes said. ‘If such a trivial oddity even qualifies as a loose end.’
‘Have it your own way,’ Jacob muttered.
‘Don’t be sulky,’ Rachel said. ‘If Bellamy hadn’t come to see you, you’d still be slaving over a hot typewriter in London and you’d have missed all the excitement.’
Sergeant Wagstaffe’s return brought the conversation to an end and Jacob went to leave a message for Harley with the formidable receptionist. Rachel was settling back into her armchair when Trueman came in through the revolving doors.
‘Any luck at the Mermaid?’ she asked.
He shook his head. ‘No sign of either McAtee or the beach photographer. The barman was so fully occupied with customers trying to figure out if Clarion Charlie was in there having a quiet pint, he paid no attention to his golfing pal. Maybe they’ve had a tiff.’
Pearl Carson entered the lobby from the direction of the offices. Catching sight of Rachel, she raised a hand in greeting, and Trueman stepped away, the very model of a discreet chauffeur who knows that his place is in the background.
‘Good afternoon, Miss Savernake! I hope you’ve been making the most of the sunshine?’
Rachel’s expression was doleful. ‘A lovely day, isn’t it? Such a shame that…’
Her voice trailed away and Pearl placed a warm hand on hers.
‘You’re referring to the tragedy at Shepherd’s Cottage?’
Rachel nodded, but seemed lost for words.
‘I never actually met the poor man, but I heard the news just before lunch. How dreadful, to be in such a state of mind that you can’t bear to carry on. I simply can’t imagine it.’ Pearl shook her head. ‘I gather Mrs Stones raised the alarm?’
‘Yes, she came to Bay View to let us know that the kitchen was locked and she’d glimpsed him through the curtains. He was… lying on the floor.’
‘How awful.’
‘As if that wasn’t enough,’ Rachel said, ‘it turns out that his real name wasn’t Doyle, and he wasn’t a doctor at all.’
Pearl Carson’s jaw dropped. ‘Good Lord! That’s astonishing!’
‘You didn’t know?’
‘Certainly not. As I say, I never even met the man.’
Rachel dabbed her eyes, as if anticipating tears. ‘It’s… quite extraordinary.’
‘It certainly is. What was his real name, do you know?’
‘The police say his name was Palmer.’
‘Palmer?’ Pearl’s expression was quizzical.
‘Basil Palmer. Apparently he was an accountant from Guildford. Makes you wonder, doesn’t it? What brings a man on his own from Guildford to Hemlock Bay? And what drives him to suicide?’
‘It’s… incredible.’ If Pearl’s bafflement was feigned, Rachel thought, she deserved to be on the stage. ‘I heard a whisper that Dr… I mean, this man Palmer, is the one who murdered The Great Hallemby.’
‘The fortune teller, yes,’ Rachel said. ‘I heard that story too.’
‘It… it doesn’t make sense.’
‘No,’ Rachel agreed. ‘Nothing seems to make sense at the moment.’
Out of the corner of her eye she saw Jacob strolling towards her, having done battle with the chief receptionist. She gave an almost imperceptible shake of the head. Catching her eye, he promptly took a close interest in the foliage of the potted plants.
Pearl Carson took a deep breath. ‘You must forgive me for sounding so distressed. My husband and I are working day and night to make a success of things here. Buying into Sir Harold’s business took up all our savings. The dreadful things that have happened here lately are a devastating blow. If visitors feel unsafe, they will give Hemlock Bay a very wide berth.’
‘Judging by the crowds on the beach, the resort is more popular than ever.’
The older woman sighed. ‘On the principle that there is no such thing as bad publicity? Perhaps it’s true, but I’m not sure. Nothing has ever come easily to me, you see. I don’t mind hard work, but I understand why Sir Harold is ready to take a step back, after all he’s achieved over the past few years.’
‘I presume he’s confident that the present… difficulties will soon blow over?’
‘Oh yes.’ Her expression softened. ‘I spoke to him a few minutes ago. The chief constable has assured him that the police have everything in hand. The murder of The Great Hallemby was ghastly, but it seems clear the man responsible has… finally done the right thing.’
Her words lingered in the air for a few moments before Rachel said, ‘I wonder if you can help me?’
A bright, professional smile. ‘Ask away.’
‘I was hoping to have a word with a gentleman who is staying here. I haven’t seen him around and I wonder if you might know where he is?’
If Pearl Carson was tempted to retort that she wasn’t her guest’s keeper, she gave no sign of it. A twinkle in her eye indicated that she suspected a budding romance.
‘And who might that be?’
‘His name is Mr Joseph McAtee.’
The twinkle vanished. ‘Mr McAtee?’
‘That’s right.’
‘I’m afraid you’re out of luck.’
‘He hasn’t left Hemlock Bay, has he?’
‘Yes, he’s… in Lancaster, and I don’t think he will be back in the next few days.’
‘Oh dear. He didn’t leave a forwarding address, by any chance? I am quite anxious to get in touch with him.’
‘I’m afraid that won’t be possible.’
‘Really?’ Something in Pearl’s voice snagged Rachel’s attention. What wasn’t she saying? ‘Surely he didn’t leave without paying his bill?’
A decisive shake of the head. ‘No, no, there’s no question of that. I mean…’
‘Yes?’
Pearl Carson lowered her eyes. ‘He left here in the most unfortunate circumstances. He was under the weather a couple of days ago but yesterday morning he took a turn for the worse. We called in Dr Sowden, a very good man, and he insisted on whisking him off to the hospital at Lancaster.’
‘My goodness! What on earth is wrong with him?’
‘At first it seemed like flu. A bug has been going around. My husband Louis has been affected himself. But this appears to be more serious. Dr Sowden says it’s a form of ataxia, whatever that is.’
‘It sounds worrying,’ Rachel said thoughtfully.
‘I’m sorry to say it is. I called the hospital this morning, to see if there was any improvement, but they told me it had deteriorated. He isn’t responding to treatment. It does sound rather as if… it’s touch and go whether he’ll survive.’