Michael Dibdin - The Dying of the Light

‘You can compare the handwriting with those letters of Dorothy’s which were never posted,’ Rosemary replied. ‘But you need have no fear, Inspector. Having achieved the aims laid down by Dorothy in her letter, I have broken my staff and drowned my book.’

She slumped down on the garden seat again.

‘Is it true about the will?’

‘You mean to say she didn’t tell you?’ Jarvis demanded incredulously.

Rosemary shook her head.

‘Of course not. Dorothy was much too considerate to have burdened the final days of our friendship with such an embarrassing revelation.’

Jarvis held up the letter.

‘Assuming this is genuine,’ he said heavily, ‘I can do you for conspiracy to pervert.’

Rosemary gave a refined shrug.

That’s up to you, Inspector. Personally speaking, I wouldn’t have thought that it would have made a very favourable impression. At all events, I take it that you are no longer proposing to “do” me for murder.’

Jarvis stared blankly at her for a moment, then abruptly burst out laughing.

‘Don’t tell me you fell for it!’

Rosemary flushed.

‘I beg your pardon?’

Jarvis sat down on the seat and slapped Rosemary’s knee familiarly.

’You really believed I was going to arrest you, didn’t you?’

‘I must admit you sounded awfully convincing,’ she replied.

Jarvis nodded.

‘So did you, Miss Travis, when you told me if I left without speaking to Mrs Hargreaves then you’d be the next to die. I didn’t believe you really were in danger, of course, but just a moment there I thought that you did. Well, now I’ve got my own back!’

Rosemary looked him in the eye.

‘I meant exactly what I said, Inspector.’

Jarvis waved Dorothy’s letter in her face.

‘You can’t have it both ways! You now admit you knew all along that Mrs Davenport hadn’t been murdered, so why on earth should you think you would be?’

Rosemary shook her head.

‘You weren’t paying attention, Inspector. You heard what you wanted to hear, not the actual words that were spoken. That’s why people fail to guess the solution to detective stories, even though they’ve been given all the clues.’

‘You told me you would be the next to die,’ insisted Jarvis. “Those were your very words.’

‘And you assumed that by “die” I meant “be murdered”.’

Jarvis narrowed his eyes.

‘You mean… You meant…’

Rosemary nodded.

‘If it had come to that, yes. I couldn’t let Dorothy’s sacrifice go for nothing.’

Jarvis looked at her.

‘I believe you would, too.’

Rosemary smiled.

‘But fortunately for both of us,’ she said, ‘it didn’t come to that. Dot meant well, but she was always a bit vague when it came to working out the details of the plot. Left to my own devices, I’d have led you a merry old dance! As it was, of course, I had to improvise. There was no time to attempt anything really interesting.’

Jarvis got out his notebook.

‘Right then, let’s have it from the beginning.’

Rosemary groaned.

‘Must we, Inspector? I must confess that my heart always sinks at the prospect of the scene where All Is Explained.’

There has to be one, though, doesn’t there?’

Rosemary nodded resignedly.

‘Very well, I shall try and be as concise as possible.’

Jarvis licked his pencil.

‘It was still early when I discovered Dorothy’s body,’ Rosemary began, ‘but I knew it would not be long before people were up and about, so I had to work quickly. First I went downstairs to the study and added some of that blue liqueur to the remnants of the morphine syrup.’

‘How did you know it was there?’ prompted Jarvis.

‘Miss Davis used to drink cocktails made with different-coloured liqueurs, including a blue one, arranged in layers. I don’t know how she managed to stop them all getting mixed up…’

‘Back of a spoon. One of Tomkins’s party tricks. They should get together, that pair. Talk about a marriage made in hell.’

‘I then washed out the miniature spirit bottles which Dorothy had drunk from and replaced them in their wooden case,’ Rosemary went on.

‘Why not just throw them away?’

‘Someone might have noticed if the set had been missing, but it was very unlikely that anyone would bother to check whether the bottles still had their original contents or not. After that I ground up some sleeping tablets and added the powder to the dregs of her cocoa. Finally, I crept into Mr Purvey’s room, removed one of his syringes and left part of the plastic wrapping on the floor near the head of Dorothy’s bed.’

Jarvis whistled quietly.

‘With her still in it?’

‘I was acting as Dorothy’s executor, Inspector. She had given me my instructions. How could I not have carried them out to the best of my ability?’

‘Go on,’ said Jarvis above the sound of his scribbling pencil.

‘At length Dorothy’s absence was remarked and the alarm raised. My principal concern, of course, was to ensure that no one tampered with the items of evidence I had prepared. To that end I refused to leave Dorothy’s room until the police arrived. Miss Davis tried to remove me, but I made such a fuss that in the end she gave up and left me there. I took advantage of this to stage a brief conversational exchange for the benefit of Mr Channing next door. My voice is deep enough to do a passable imitation of Anderson, particularly when muffled by the wall. My purpose in all this was to provide clues for your officers to collect when they arrived. In the event, however, they made no attempt to speak to any of the residents, let alone Channing, and even failed to notice the medicine and the cocoa by Dorothy’s bed until I pointed them out.’

She turned round, pointing to the other policeman, who was now prancing about on the gravel yelling, ‘Assume the position, motherfucker!’ at his shadow on the car.

‘Tell me, Inspector, why does your colleague try and conceal his myopia by wearing those ridiculous shaded glasses?’

Jarvis shook his head.

‘Don’t ask,’ he sighed.

‘I only mention the matter because it’s so very dispiriting to have to bring the finer points of one’s work to people’s attention,’ Rosemary went on. ‘Even once I’d got him to notice the morphine bottle and the mug of cocoa, your colleague didn’t seem capable of grasping their significance until I explained it to him. As for the wrapping from the syringe, I dropped a brooch right beside it and got him to pick it up for me to save my bad back and he still didn’t see it. In the end I retrieved it myself and replaced it before you arrived. I knew that once the morphine and the cocoa had been analysed someone was bound to come to question me about the allegations I’d made. I just hoped it would be someone of a rather higher calibre-as happily proved to be the case.’

She smiled graciously at Jarvis.

‘As soon as we met, Inspector, I sensed that you were someone who would respond to a challenge. I therefore proceeded by indirection, continually insisting that the murderer must be one of the residents and refusing to consider the Andersons as possible suspects, despite the evidence against them which I kept bringing to your notice. I also deliberately avoided any mention of the syringe, even though the prescribed dose of morphine clearly wouldn’t have been enough to kill Dorothy. I thought you would enjoy thinking that you’d outwitted me there.’

Jarvis had stopped making notes. He opened his mouth to say something, then shook his head.

‘Once you had gone upstairs to see Channing,’ Rosemary continued, ‘I had to find some way of distracting the Andersons’ attentions while you spoke to the others. I took a chance and approached Mrs Hargreaves, who had been unexpectedly kind to me the day before. She gamely agreed to create a diversion by breaking out and hiding in the grounds. Miss Davis assaulted her violently when she found her, and warned her of even more brutal reprisals if she said anything to you, but despite her origins I’m glad to say that Mavis proved to be an absolute brick. She produced the story I had taught her about the cocoa, and luckily you believed her.’