Vivian Conroy - Diamonds of Death

‘Half-sister,’ Alkmene corrected quickly. It was a part of her family history she rather preferred not to be reminded of. Her father’s reticence about the subject suggested trouble she’d better stay away from.

She said carefully, ‘They were not on very good terms with each other, if Father is to be believed. Of course it is all a long time ago. My mother died when I was just four years old. After that contact with Mother’s relatives has been rather irregular.’

She didn’t mention that Anne Winters, the only daughter of her late mother’s half-sister, had written to her several times upon the family’s return to England, asking her to come stay with them at the Winters estate. Alkmene had not quite understood why Anne was seeking her out all of a sudden.

Jake asked, ‘And you never felt the need to figure out if the rumours were true? About your mother’s half-sister being murdered by her husband? I can’t imagine that someone with an analytical mind like you would ignore a murder in her own family. You’d have to make sure whether it was just a tale from fanciful people or the truth.’

‘Maybe I ignored it just because it happened in my own family,’ Alkmene said. She hesitated a moment, wondering if it was wise to tell Dubois any more. His jibe about madness in the family had been far from funny. Rumours didn’t just say that Lord Winters had killed his wife, but also that she had acted quite strangely in the months before her death. That she had perhaps suffered from delusions.

And Anne’s last letter, begging her to come out for a few weeks, had sounded rather…strange as well. It had mentioned how the house made her so depressed – like it was sucking life away from her. That sounded quite fanciful.

‘Well,’ Jake said, ‘either way you are related to Lord Winters and since your father is away from home, and you sort of represent him, it would be expected that you’d call on the family to offer your condolences now that Lord Winters has died a violent death. As the estate is quite isolated, you’d have to stay with them for a few days. Else you will just have to invent a headache, a cold, some ache in your back, which will force you to stay for a few days. You have to get into that household and find out what you can about the possible suspects. Especially about George Winters. He hired Mac to steal the stones.’

Alkmene’s eyes went wide at this revelation. George was Anne’s brother, the youngest of two sons. The eldest, Albert, had upon his father’s death inherited the title and the lands.

She had never met any of these people. To call upon them to offer condolences might be appreciated, but a stay would be considered a little unusual. Then again, as Anne had written to her before asking her to come over for a few days, she could justify that she wanted to stay at least until the funeral. That would give her a few days. The opportunity was there for the taking.

But she was torn about it inside. On the one hand she could already feel the excitement of sleuthing again, like she had after poor Silas Norwhich’s supposedly accidental death that had turned out to be murder. The investigation had given a zest to her life that was normally sadly missing.

In this case she might even learn something about the late Lady Winters who had died far away from home. She had been her own mother’s half-sister. And perhaps she owed it to her mother, and the special bond of blood, to look into the matter.

On the other hand that was exactly why she was unsure. These people were family. Distant family perhaps, family she had never met before, people who were no more to her than names without faces, for whom she had little feeling. Still they were family. And now Jake suggested there was a killer among them.

Not to mention the possibility she’d learn her mother’s half-sister had indeed been mad before she died.

A madness that might have been passed on down the line.

To Anne?

Jake said, ‘You need not be afraid that you will be out there alone, in a house with people who could all be involved. I will be with you.’

‘How?’ Alkmene asked.

‘I will…’ Jake had to brace himself apparently to get the next words out. ‘Pose as your driver.’

Alkmene suppressed a burst of laughter. ‘As my driver?’

Jake looked sour. ‘I can hardly pose as your lady’s maid. I’ve already arranged for a car and given notice at the papers that I am following up on a story out of town and will not be around for a few days, maybe even longer.’

She looked at him. ‘Wait a moment. You already gave notice at the papers? Before you had even talked to me? You just knew for sure I’d agree to do this?’

Jake grinned at her. ‘I figured you’d enjoy some country air. After all, last time we went into the countryside, you shared all these idyllic plans with me to go paint by a brook and see excavation sites and… It didn’t quite turn out that way then, but hey, here is another chance, to do better.’

Alkmene made a slapping motion at him. ‘Cut it out, or I am not coming at all.’

Jake leaned over, his dark eyes sparkling. ‘Oh, you are coming, my lady. If it is murder, wild horses could not keep you away.’

Chapter Three

Alkmene glanced down her all black outfit and sighed. ‘I do feel a little like I am preying on their grief, you know, and this outfit only makes it worse. It turns me into a crow or raven, such a horrendous scavenger.’

Jake laughed softly. ‘Ravens are very intelligent creatures. You should feel flattered by the likeness, not insulted.’

Alkmene released a breath. ‘I am just wondering if it is at all acceptable. Faking a sudden interest in family members you have ignored for decades, just because you have a morbid fascination for murder.’

‘Just because you want to save an innocent man from the gallows.’ Jake kept his gaze on the road ahead, his expression suddenly solemn and tight.

Large oaks hung over the road from both sides, their branches meeting in the middle so they rode through a natural arched gateway leading up to Lord Winters’ estate. The thick foliage blocked the sunshine, and it was dim underneath and damp, the atmosphere even invading their car.

Alkmene shivered a moment. ‘I will keep that in mind, to soothe my conscience.’

Jake glanced at her. ‘I would not have asked you to do this, if I had not been fairly certain Mac is innocent and the killer still at large.’

‘Right. At large in the very house where I will be staying. Fabulous.’

‘We can assume that the killer had a clear motive for wanting to dispose of Lord Winters. He will not suddenly come after you.’

‘Or she,’ Alkmene said. ‘Killers can be female, you know.’

‘Then they use poison,’ Jake said decidedly. ‘They do not bash somebody’s head in with a polo trophy.’

Alkmene exhaled. ‘Perhaps it was a crime committed in anger. Nothing premeditated.’

Jake shrugged. ‘What difference does it make? We need to know who did it, to clear my friend’s name.’

Alkmene nodded. ‘After all of it is over and his name is cleared, I do want to meet him and be treated to all the stories of the robberies he did manage to pull off.’

Jake grunted. ‘I doubt he will want to go public.’

‘I thought he had already gone public.’

‘The police have not released his name, just said that a burglar was apprehended on the scene. As long as we can keep his real name out of it…’

‘His real name?’

‘The police have him under an alias.’ Jake glanced at her. ‘You do not think he is using his real name, right? He has a fake passport and everything. If he manages to get out of this scrape in one piece, he can assume another identity and hit the Riviera again, or some other place.’