The Murder of Busy Lizzie

‘And as she was A.W.O.L.,’ added Sebastian, ‘she would have been keeping her weather-eye open. Besides, if our aunt had ever left the island, it’s most unlikely her body would have been found off the east cliff.’

‘Well, as to that,’ said Laura, ‘it could have been carried that way on Dead Man’s Day, the race I told you about the first time we were swimming. You remember that, I expect. All the same, it does seem certain that Mrs Chayleigh never left this island, no matter where the body was put into the water.’

‘The body? You mean she wasn’t drowned?’

‘We must wait for the result of the autopsy, of course,’ said Dame Beatrice, ‘but my own opinion would be that the chief injury she had suffered (however it was caused) must certainly have killed her. That wound on the head was not sustained after death. Of that I am reasonably certain. But your statement that she called here to deliver a parcel of goods is most intriguing.’

‘We thought they might have been for your servants, if somebody came here to get the house ready before you arrived,’ said Sebastian.

‘A logical assumption. Let us test it.’ Dame Beatrice rang the bell and an elderly, neatly-dressed, sharp- featured servant appeared.

‘Madame?’ she said, casting a brief but suspicious glance at the visitors.

‘Oh, Celestine,’ said her employer, ‘on which day did you, Henri and George get here?’

‘On the Saturday, madame, before you and Madame Gavin arrived on the following Wednesday.’ Celestine’s dark eyes said clearly that Dame Beatrice knew this perfectly well.

‘Splendid,’ said the latter. ‘And you found that some of the food was rather stale, perhaps.’

‘The food, madame?’

Dame Beatrice looked at Margaret.

‘The food?’ she repeated.

‘Eggs, bacon and butter. Other things as well, perhaps, but those, definitely, were mentioned.’

‘There was no food here when we arrived, madame, except that which we had brought with us. That we ate, and then George went to the farm which the agent had described to madame, and bought there the provisions which had been ordered.’

‘There was no parcel or basket of food in the porch or on the back step when you arrived?’

‘But no, madame. There was, however, a half-full tea-pot and two cups and saucers left beside the sink, as though some persons had taken tea together and had left the house without doing the washing-up.’

‘Had left the house? How long before you arrived?’

‘Oh, but I could not say, madame. Two or three days, perhaps. The tea in the pot was quite stale and the dregs in the cups were dried up.’

‘Were there any other signs that the house had been entered before your arrival?’

‘But no, madame, not the house. I think I would have noticed any other signs. There were no crumbs on the table and no unwashed plates. Nothing but the tea had been taken. Those who had drunk it were either very careless or were in a great hurry to depart.’

‘What did you make of all this?’

‘It was not for me to speculate upon it, madame, but it seemed to me that a tenant, such as yourself, had given up the house at the end of a holiday, and had left in a hurry to catch the boat.’

‘Of course. What else could you think? Perhaps you concluded that the food which was left had been ordered by this tenant to take home with her.’

‘But I am assuring madame that no food was left here. However, there is one more thing, if madame will pardon me. Some peasant of the island had killed a pig on the tiles outside the kitchen door. My mari and I found the carcass there.’

‘A pig?’

‘The carcass was there, as I say, madame, and a great deal of blood beneath it and around. Henri buried the carcass — he had need of doing so because of the flies, you understand. Madame will well believe that we also scrubbed and washed the tiles outside the kitchen door. Madame will find no traces of this bestial occurrence.’

‘Forensic will,’ said Laura, sotto voce.

‘Thank you, Celestine. And that is all you can tell us?’ said Dame Beatrice.

‘That is all, madame.’

‘Interesting,’ said Dame Beatrice. ‘All the blood was under and around the dead animal, you say?’

‘Precisely, madame.’

‘Well, this begins to hot up,’ said Laura, when the servant had gone. ‘We may take it that the dead pig was a blind. Wonder whether it’s of any use to ask at the hotel whether anybody heard a pig being killed on that particular Wednesday?’

‘Of no use at all,’ said Dame Beatrice. ‘Nobody will have heard anything. These are islanders and clannish. I agree with you that a deception had been practised, but we shall not be told by whom.’

‘You mean the pig was killed elsewhere and the carcass and a bucket of blood brought here to cover up the bloodstains left by the murder of Eliza Chayleigh, don’t you? Pity Celestine washed away the evidence. Still the forensic people might make something of it. Wonder whose pig it was? If the police can find that out, it would be a pretty good pointer to the murderer. Trouble is, I expect that, as you say, these islanders are too clannish to give one another away, especially if murder is involved.’

‘That might be the very reason they might be persuaded to talk, I think,’ said Sebastian. ‘One thing: it looks as though the murder was premeditated. My aunt was sent here, and I bet the dead pig and the rest of it were on the spot, ready for the cover-up. What an absolutely beastly business it all is! Who on earth can have hated my aunt so much? It sounds as though Miss Crimp is involved.’

‘Miss Crimp is the likeliest, I suppose,’ said Margaret, ‘if we are going to mention names. If Aunt Eliza left the hotel, or, rather, her share of it, to her partner, it might offer a motive, don’t you think? But it’s really much too horrible to talk about. Father will have to tell the police and let them deal with it. There is nothing we can do on our own, is there?’

‘What I mean to do,’ said Sebastian, ‘is to hire Dimbleton’s boat and have a look at those rocks where my aunt’s body was found. I agree there’s been dirty work, and I’d like to find out more about it.’

‘You’re too young to be drowned,’ said Laura. ‘Look, I can think of a much better way of going about things, if you really intend to go ahead with a spot of investigation. If I were you I’d chuck the idea of the boat trip. It won’t bring home the guilt to any extent that will satisfy you.’

‘What do you suggest, then?’ asked Sebastian. ‘By the way, my father has gone home on this afternoon’s boat, so nothing we do now will concern him. There’s no bother on that score.’

‘I suggest,’ said Laura, ‘that we mobilise these bird-watchers. They have ropes, cameras, climbing things and heads for heights. The cliffs are their natural haunt. Get them on the job and make them report back to you. I myself could bear to know a bit more about what happened. It’s obvious your aunt met somebody at this house. What we’ve heard has interested me very much. What’s more, I’ve talked to some of these naturalists and, if you think well of the scheme, I can put you in touch with a small party of the best of them. Let them do the exploring from the face of the cliffs.’

‘But we wanted to see for ourselves,’ protested Margaret.

‘Much better leave it to the experts and let them do the donkey work. There’s another aspect, too, which, it appears, has already occurred to you. The police are apt to take a dim view of amateurs like yourselves who horn in on their preserves, whereas these bird-watchers are neither to hold nor to bind. Nobody is going to ask what they’re up to if they’re spotted climbing the cliffs and scrambling over the rocks and generally infesting the scenery. It will merely be assumed that they are about their lawful occasions and they’ll be left alone to get on with whatever breakneck expeditions they choose to embark on.’

Margaret looked at her brother. Sebastian nodded.

‘It makes good sense to me,’ he said. ‘When do we make contact?’

‘Well,’ remarked Dame Beatrice, when the young people had gone, ‘I must admit that your methods excite my admiration and envy.’

‘Oh, I intend to hire the boatman myself later on,’ said Laura. ‘He won’t suspect me, but he might think the police ought to be informed if close relatives of the deceased want to go in his craft to take a look at the spot marked X, don’t you think? After all, we’re now certain the woman was murdered. Another point: is it of any use, after this lapse of time, to subject this house to scrutiny of a more meticulous kind than so far we have accorded it?