R Raichev - Murder at the Villa Byzantine

‘Where is the Villa Byzantine exactly?’

‘St John’s Wood.’

‘My only remaining aunt lives in St John’s Wood. Bought a house there quite recently.’

Morland took another gulp of whisky. ‘I’ve been trying to remember something Tancred Vane said. I don’t think it matters one little bit, but for some reason I can’t get it out of my head. Oh yes. He had the idea that Miss Hope had recognized Stella.’

‘Stella had met Miss Hope before?’

‘That’s the impression Vane had. Or was it the other way round? No, can’t remember. Sorry, Payne, hate to waste your time. None of this could possibly be of the slightest importance. Don’t know why it keeps nagging at me. Hope I’m not going mad.’

‘Could Miss Hope have had something to do with Stella’s death?’

‘No, of course not. Ridiculous. Sorry I mentioned it. It – it all feels like a dream now. Poor Stella was killed by some maniac, wouldn’t you say? She was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Or it might have been someone who’d been trying to burgle Vane’s house – and she intervened. That strikes me as the likeliest explanation.’

‘How did Stella come to be inside the Villa Byzantine?’

Morland sat very still, gazing into his glass. ‘All the police said was that she’d had an accident, that she’d been hurt. They didn’t tell me she was dead, Payne. They didn’t. Then – then they took me into the room and showed me the head. Just like that. Damned insensitive… Sorry, Payne, what was it you said?’

‘How did Stella come to be inside the Villa Byzantine?’

‘How? No idea. No idea at all. Some misunderstanding. At first I assumed she’d had a call from the biographer fellow. Tancred Vane always made his appointments with her by phone. Only this time he didn’t. He said he couldn’t possibly have wanted to see Stella this morning since he needed to go to the British Library rather urgently. He’d mentioned it to her-’

‘She knew he wouldn’t be in?’

‘That’s what he said. He left his house at about ten thirty. He had made arrangements for an interview with Miss Hope at three o’clock in the afternoon. He came back home about two thirty. He said he found the front door unlocked-’

‘Is he certain he’d locked it before leaving?’

‘No. He couldn’t swear to it. He admitted to being the absent-minded professor type. When he discovered Stella’s body lying in the drawing room, he got the shock of his life. Had to sit down. He then called the police. He referred to the police as “the Law” – I thought it odd – not many people say “the Law”, do they?’

‘I imagine not. Only as a joke, perhaps. The Law. That much-invoked abstraction,’ Payne murmured. ‘Where was Stella’s daughter while all of this was happening? At which point does she come into the picture?’

‘Moon was arrested on the underground. At Baker Street station, I believe. She’d been travelling without a ticket and apparently she was jolly rude when they challenged her. She refused to say who she was and had no papers on her. She was taken to the local police station where they found she answered the description which I’d given the police.’

‘You said she was their number one suspect. What grounds do the police have for suspecting Moon of her mother’s murder?’

‘When the police asked her if she knew where her mother was, she said her mother was dead. She later explained she only said it so they would leave her alone. She had no idea her mother was really dead.’

‘I see. That all?’

‘Not quite. A handkerchief was found lying beside Stella’s body. It was drenched in blood. The police believe that it is Stella’s blood. They haven’t had the blood analysed yet. The handkerchief has the initials MM embroidered on it.’ Morland shook his head. ‘They believe Moon dropped it there after she killed Stella. MM. Moon Markoff.’

‘Is it her handkerchief?’

‘Of course it isn’t. Moon has never been to the Villa Byzantine. She has no idea where the Villa Byzantine is!’

‘You can’t be certain of that.’

‘It’s just one of those idiotic coincidences that the initials on the blood-drenched handkerchief should be the same as Moon’s. You must see that. I can’t say I like Moon, but I believe in being fair. I’ve never seen Moon use a handkerchief, Payne. She hates handkerchiefs.’

Payne gave a little smile. ‘She thinks handkerchiefs are “uncool”?’

‘She thinks handkerchiefs are “dumb”. She only uses tissues.’ Morland spoke impatiently. ‘She likes things rough. You saw her. Can you imagine her holding a silk handkerchief to her nose?’

‘Did you actually see the handkerchief, Morland?’

‘I did. The inspector showed it to me. It’s their Exhibit A. It’s made of silk. Very fine silk. Gossamer thin. Impossibly “ladylike”. Moon would never use a hankie like that. Not her style, Payne.’

‘Was there any blood on her clothes when the police arrested her?’

‘No. Of course the police took her clothes away. They propose to run tests.’

‘She wasn’t wearing the blood-bespattered shinel?’

‘As it happens, she wasn’t.’

‘She may have got rid of her bloodied clothes and then bought new ones,’ Payne said thoughtfully.

‘They were the same clothes I bought her last week. Bomber jacket, jeans, sports top, trainers. She had been pestering her mother, saying all her clothes were rubbish. She said she needed new clothes. Poor Stella asked me if I would take Moon shopping, which I did. I took her to Oxford Street. Shop called Top Girl, some such name.’

‘Back to this morning – did you actually see Stella leave your flat?’

‘No. I saw her at breakfast, briefly, then had to rush off. Had an important board meeting to attend. Stella seemed all right. A bit quiet, perhaps. She said she had a headache. She was never at her best in the morning, but then who is? I never saw Moon.’

‘How did Moon spend her morning? Did she say?’

‘She said she left soon after her mother. At about eleven. She said she got on the tube and went to Tottenham Court Road. She wanted to look at the CDs at Virgin Megastores. Something like that.’

‘She might have followed her mother instead… All the way to the Villa Byzantine…’

‘If she’d wanted to kill her mother, she’d have done it in a different way. That’s what she said. Not with a samurai sword and most certainly not at the Villa Byzantine. She said she wasn’t a fool. Nor was she a psycho.’

‘I never thought she was a fool,’ Payne said.

There was a pause. Morland glanced at his watch. ‘Well, at least I’ll know I’ve done my best. Thank you very much for listening to me, Payne. Awfully decent of you.’

‘Try to get some sleep tonight.’

‘Perhaps – perhaps you could look into the matter? If that’s the right way of putting it?’ Morland rose to his feet. ‘You said you had an aunt in St John’s Wood, didn’t you? Sorry. That’s neither here nor there.’

‘I might look into it,’ said Payne cautiously, ‘though I can’t promise anything.’

‘I must admit I don’t have much faith in the Law. Nothing but a bunch of bureaucrats. Somebody did behead Stella and it wasn’t Moon,’ Morland said firmly. ‘I do hope you have a crack at finding the true culprit.’

After Morland had gone, Major Payne produced his pipe.

The true culprit, eh? He had to admit he enjoyed being flummoxed by intricate riddles, though perhaps this one wouldn’t prove so terribly intricate.

The idea of a teenage girl committing matricide, while indubitably shocking, was not unique. Teenagers delighted in delinquent demeanour. Teenagers enjoyed perpetrating outrages. They had their ears pierced and studs inserted into their tongues. They made no attempt to control their emotions. They tended to bear grudges. They ‘experimented’ with things, namely sex and drugs. They listened to the most appalling music imaginable – hardly music. Teenagers could be violent and indeed often were violent. He remembered the sense of danger he’d had the moment he’d clapped eyes on Stella’s daughter…