R Raichev - The Death of Corinne

‘Corinne saw in Monique her chance for revival?’

‘Yes, Antonia. The chance to re-create herself – to make a spectacular comeback – to resume her singing career afresh. Corinne had been getting invitations for concerts from all over the world but had been turning them down. Her secret had been well kept – miraculously, there hadn’t been a single rumour about her failed plastic surgery, so no one knew. Corinne wasted no time and started coaching Monique – she taught her her gestures, mannerisms, tastes, everything! Before the trip to England she told her all Monique needed to know about Aunt Nellie – about Hugh as well – where and when they had met, about his sister Amanda and so on… As it happened, Monique proved an excellent student – she became her mother.’

‘It’s a most fantastic thing – relinquishing one’s identity and living somebody else’s life. Becoming one’s mother!’ Payne exclaimed. ‘Not many people would agree to it.’

‘No. Well, Monique was tempted. That’s what she said. She had always wanted to perform. She had dreamt of singing in public, on a stage, in front of an audience, but had been pathologically shy, too shy to do anything about it. She had led an extremely sheltered life, a most secluded provincial existence. She lacked the confidence. She was gauche. What her mother offered her was not merely a chance to sing on stage, but a shortcut to fame – something Monique had never thought possible, never contemplated, not in her wildest dreams! So she jumped at the opportunity. She knew she had a very good voice but she had always thought of it as old-fashioned -’

‘Le gout de papa?’ suggested Payne.

‘You may put it that way. That she sounded exactly like her mother, Monique regarded as something of a disadvantage. She had never imagined she would be able to make a career as herself – not a major one at any rate. It was one thing to have your voice noticed at matins, another to be an international star. But as the celebrated Corinne Coreille she would be able to do it – start as world famous – as legendary! There would be no need for her to establish herself – she would emerge fully formed.’

‘Like a butterfly out of a chrysalis.’

‘She’d sing to audiences that knew her – that were there to adore her – audiences that had been waiting for her – wondering what had happened to her – longing for her voice. She said it was a very peculiar feeling she had in Japan – standing under what amounted to a floral shower, being applauded for her voice, which was also not her voice. The only real problem had been her youth, the fact that she was twenty-two years younger than Corinne, but there were such things as wigs and make-up.’

There was a pause. ‘When did she tell you all this?’ Antonia asked.

‘Last night, or rather in the small hours of this morning. She phoned me on her mobile. We talked for at least an hour. She needed to talk desperately. She was frightened, terrified. The death threats, the anxiety that she might get something wrong at dinner, then her mother getting killed. She couldn’t face being interrogated by the police. Besides, there was something wrong with her make-up. Either that, or it was because her hands were shaking too much. She was in a state of panic. She couldn’t go through with it.’ Peverel paused. ‘That’s why I came. I had to. In case any suspicion fell on her. In case the police attributed her disappearance to guilty conscience. I wanted to see what line the police would take. I suppose I’d have told them the whole story if they got it into their heads that Monique had anything to do with the two deaths -’

‘And hasn’t she?’ Major Payne said quietly.

Peverel ignored this. ‘I also wanted to see how serious Andrew Jonson’s intentions were. They are thinking of getting married. Oh, you didn’t know that, did you? You seem surprised. I thought you knew everything,’ Peverel said with a return of his sardonic manner.

A Family Plot?

‘Ah, there you are,’ Lady Grylls said, entering the library. She was holding a glass of brandy in her hand. ‘I’ve been looking for you. We are going to have hot onion soup and ham sandwiches in the dining room. I’ve scrapped the original menu, for obvious reasons. All will be ready in about half an hour, I am told. Hortense is coping extremely well, all things considered. But there’s something else I meant to tell you – now what was it?’ She raised the brandy to her lips and took a swig.

Peverel said, ‘Really, darling, at your age, the consequences of a midday binge could be catastrophic.’

‘Oh yes.’ Lady Grylls turned to Antonia. ‘There’s been a rather sensational development, though I suppose you’ll disagree. I mean, it’s never the person who’s seen leaving the scene of the crime at the crucial time, is it?’

Antonia decided to humour her. ‘You don’t mean somebody’s been seen leaving the scene of the crime at the crucial time?’

‘Yes, my dear. A stranger. That makes the possibility of him being the murderer even more remote, doesn’t it? I can tell from your expressions that you’ve been juggling with conjectures, so you might as well consider this one as well.’ Lady Grylls paused. ‘The boy Nicholas – Provost’s son – is certain he’s seen the killer. Of course he didn’t know at the time it was the killer… He doesn’t want to talk to the police about it because, you see, he doesn’t trust the police.’

‘Nicholas believes he has seen the killer?’

‘That’s exactly what I said. Yes.’ Lady Grylls raised the brandy glass to her lips once more. ‘Man in a car. Looking bleached.’

Peverel said pointedly, ‘Conspicuous consumption.’ It wasn’t clear whether he meant Nicholas and drugs or his aunt and alcohol. Antonia suspected it was the latter.

‘Darling, shouldn’t you start at the beginning?’ Major Payne said gently.

‘Last night Nicholas left early. We hadn’t finished dinner yet. I didn’t mind. I thought Provost was perfectly capable of coping on his own. Anyhow, last night Nicholas said he was going to this disco in the village. It’s organized by the youth club, apparently. He went on his bike. As he was coming back, at about half past two, he saw a car coming out of the gates and he nearly crashed into it. He fell off his bike and the car slowed down but didn’t stop. There was a full moon. Nicholas saw the driver very clearly. The driver turned his head and gave him a look. It was a young man.’

‘A young man?’

‘That’s right. A pale thin young man, with short cropped hair that was very fair, almost bleached white. Ghostly pale. Liquid eyes that gleamed in the moonlight like a cat’s. Somewhat effeminate – “girlie” was the way Nicholas put it -’ Lady Grylls broke off. ‘I’m afraid I don’t feel frightfully well. It’s been a ghastly morning. Absolutely dreadful. Just a minute ago Bobo Markham phoned and said he’s got two new pigs and would we all like to go and see them!’

Payne suggested that she sit down. He led his aunt to one of the grandfather armchairs. ‘Her glass – take it away,’ Peverel whispered.

‘Thank you, Hughie… Well, it’s an extraordinary story, you’ve got to agree… No, leave the glass. I haven’t finished… Leave it, I said… At first I thought that Nicholas must have had a drug-induced mirage of some sort,’ Lady Grylls went on. ‘Heaven knows what substances he took last night. Now you wouldn’t believe this, but my second thought was that the young man was that American woman’s son. Eleanor’s son. She expected him to appear, didn’t she? That’s what she wrote in one of her letters.’

‘You thought the young man with the car was Griff?’