‘No, nothing like that, and there was no indication of who would have wanted the nephew dead or why. Apparently, Bernard regretted saying anything at all and refused to explain. It was nearly twenty years ago, though – do you really think the deaths could be connected?’
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‘I know they are, but until now I couldn’t see how one could lead to the other. Aubrey was playing a dangerous game if he was out for revenge, and there must be a reason why it’s taken so long to come to anything.’
‘How did you know there was a link?’
Confident of Josephine’s discretion, Archie repeated what Grace Aubrey had told him about the significance of the flower found with Aubrey’s body. ‘Apparently, the iris represents chivalry.’
‘Yes, I think I knew that. “A sword for its leaf and a lily for its heart” – I can’t remember where I read that, but it struck me as an interesting description. It was probably in one of the letters I got when
Archie remembered the note in the railway carriage: ‘Lilies are more fashionable.’ Was there a more sophisticated message there than he had thought? A reference, perhaps, to past mistakes, to things being named incorrectly – to an adoption that should never have taken place?
‘Archie? Are you still there?’
‘Sorry, yes. I was just thinking about Elspeth Simmons.’
‘Was there a flower with her body, too?’
‘Yes, an iris again. It occurred to me that she might have been Aubrey’s child, but Grace Aubrey convinced me it was unlikely.
Still, perhaps Elspeth’s death was the catalyst for his. Perhaps when she died she took the reason for nearly twenty years of silence with her. The question is – whose silence? I’m hoping Alice Simmons might be able to help there. Betty telephoned earlier to say they were ready to leave Berwick – Alice wanted to come down straight away to be near Elspeth – so they should be here in a few hours.’
‘Perhaps Arthur fathered a child before he died,’ Josephine suggested. ‘Elspeth could have been related to Bernard that way.’
‘Yes, she could,’ he agreed. ‘Again, Grace claimed not to know of a lover, but they could have kept the relationship quiet. And if the girl was pregnant out of wedlock, she’s hardly going to parade the illegitimacy at a memorial service.’ He sighed heavily. ‘There 182
are so many permutations, but what you’ve told me tonight helps enormously. Where is Lydia now, by the way?’
‘She’s gone home with Marta. They got a car to take them, as you instructed,’ she added, with no intention of admitting that Lydia’s revelations had been made by the side of the Thames in questionable company rather than in the safety of Number 66. ‘I think there are some things they need to sort out – personal stuff, nothing to do with this – and they both looked shattered.’
‘You must be, too. You should go to bed.’
‘I know. I don’t suppose there’s any point in my telling you to get some rest? You can’t go on like this indefinitely.’
‘I’ll see what I can do,’ he promised, ‘and I’ll speak to you tomorrow – well, later today. I can’t say when because God knows what’s going to happen next, but I’ll try to find time to come and see you. And Josephine?’
‘Don’t worry, Archie, I will,’ she said, anticipating his instructions to take care.
As Archie said goodnight, Fallowfield put his head round the door. ‘Miss McCracken’s downstairs, Sir. She’s older than I expected – it’s funny, I always think of the theatre set as packed with sweet young things, but she’s no youngster now and I doubt she’s ever been sweet. Nasty piece of work, but I suppose she’d have to be to write those letters. And she hasn’t stopped talking from the moment I knocked on her door to the moment I put her in the interview room.’
‘Anything interesting?’
‘Mostly vicious stuff about people she worked with – all except Terry. He seems to share her high opinion of herself. Very nasty about Miss Tey, though, and not a good word to say about Bernard Aubrey.’
‘But no indication that she already knew he was dead?’
‘No, but she’s not stupid, Sir. She wouldn’t give herself away.’
‘I think we’ll let her wait for a bit; our hospitality might calm her down and anyway, I want to bring you up to date.’
Fallowfield listened intently to what Penrose had to say, then added his own news. ‘Nothing further on White yet, Sir, but 183
Seddon’s been through the list of numbers on Aubrey’s blotter.
Most of them aren’t very interesting – firms you’d expect him to deal with in theatre – but one is the number for Somerset House and another is a private number down south. There’s no answer, but I’ve told Seddon to keep trying.’
‘Somerset House is interesting,’ Penrose said. ‘I wonder what Aubrey was digging around there for?’
‘I don’t know yet, Sir, but we’re trying to track down a home number for someone who works there. If not, it’ll be first thing Monday morning at the latest.’
‘Good work, Bill – thanks,’ Penrose said. What he needed now was a voice to unlock the past, someone who could help remove the barrier which time had placed between him and that first terrible death. From that, the more immediate answers would follow, he was sure, and he looked forward more than ever to meeting Alice Simmons.
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Twelve
The early hours of Sunday morning brought nothing but despair to Hedley White. Last night, buoyed up by the beginnings of a plan and some money in his pocket to carry it out, he had almost convinced himself that running away was a feasible solution; perhaps if he left London behind he could also discard the pain of Elspeth’s death, if
