A Line to Kill

I watched Hawthorne slide all the pictures and papers back into the envelope. He’d go over them all meticulously when I wasn’t there. ‘Do you know who killed him?’ I asked.

He stopped what he was doing, genuinely surprised. ‘Why do you ask that?’

‘I’m just wondering. The whole thing is completely unfathomable to me and it doesn’t help that there must be half a dozen people who wanted le Mesurier dead, including his wife. But somehow you always work it out and since I’m here, tagging along with you as usual, it would be quite nice to know what’s in your head and whether you’ve solved the mystery yet.’

‘Is this for the book?’

‘Don’t worry. If there is a book, I’ll leave the solution until the last chapter. All I’m saying is that there’s no earthly reason to keep me in the dark right now. That’s all.’

He put the last sheets into the envelope. ‘There are an awful lot more than six people who wanted him dead, Tony. I can think of twelve of them and that doesn’t include all the lunatics who’d do anything to stop NAB. That’s something you can put in your book. It’s a line to kill if ever I saw one.’

‘So has this got something to do with NAB?’

‘You really want to know?’ Hawthorne wagged a finger in my direction. ‘I’ll tell you this, Tony. You need to start with the chair. Charles le Mesurier was tied to a chair by his feet and his left hand. But his right hand was kept free. Why was that? If you can work that out, the rest of it will fall into place.’

‘Are you saying that the hand was deliberately left free?’

‘I don’t think they ran out of tape, if that’s what you mean.’

I’d hoped he’d say more but just then we were interrupted by the arrival of Elizabeth Lovell, as ever accompanied by her husband, Sid. It was far too early for dinner, but it turned out that wasn’t why they were here. ‘There he is!’ Sid muttered, as he led Elizabeth towards us. ‘Sitting with the writer. Just the two of them.’

Hawthorne got to his feet and pulled back a chair. He was clearly the one they had come to see so I stayed where I was. ‘Mrs Lovell …’

She felt for the chair and sat down. ‘Mr Hawthorne! I was hoping I’d find you.’ I hadn’t seen the medium since the party at The Lookout and we hadn’t spoken then. I remembered how upset Anne Cleary had been and part of me recoiled at seeing Elizabeth now. She had used the death of Anne’s son as a sort of parlour trick. That was what she did for a living. The fact that she was blind made no difference to me. She and Sid were as bad as each other.

‘I was wanting to talk to you too.’ Hawthorne plunged straight in. ‘I saw you at the party, sitting in the garden.’

‘Then you know I have a vice.’

‘I smoke too. It’s quite handy sometimes. Gets you out of the crowd. It made me wonder if you heard anyone go past. In particular, Charles le Mesurier went to the Snuggery sometime just before ten o’clock. I wonder if there was anyone with him? Was he talking to anyone?’

‘Liz wasn’t close enough,’ Sid said. ‘I sat her well away from the other guests. Sometimes she likes to be on her own.’

It was true. I had noticed her some distance away from the main lawn and the path.

‘I’m afraid I didn’t hear anything,’ Elizabeth said.

‘Is there anything you can tell me about that evening?’ Hawthorne asked. ‘Obviously, you have an unusual perspective. But it could be very helpful.’

‘There’s not very much I can tell you, I’m afraid, Mr Hawthorne. Parties are quite difficult for me, as you might imagine. All the voices tend to blend into each other and there’s no room to move around. I didn’t stay there very long. What time did we leave, Sid?’

‘We got there at about seven fifteen, left just before ten.’

So she hadn’t been there when the murder happened.

‘How did you get back to the hotel?’ Hawthorne asked.

‘We took a cab,’ Sid replied. ‘The driver was a kid with ginger hair. I’m sure he’ll remember us.’

‘He never stopped talking,’ Elizabeth added.

I smiled. That had to be Terry.

Hawthorne didn’t have any more questions, so Elizabeth weighed in. ‘We want to help, Mr Hawthorne. Or rather, I do. And if you’re willing to consider something rather unorthodox, there may be something I can do.’

‘And what’s that, Mrs Lovell?’

‘Elizabeth, please.’ She drew a breath. Suddenly, I knew what was coming. ‘I have helped the police once or twice in Jersey,’ she continued. ‘Nothing as serious as murder, but they have called on me and found me useful from time to time.’

‘There was that kid that disappeared,’ Sid reminded her.

‘Yes. We found him. He’d managed to lose himself in the nature reserve at Les Mielles. His parents were extremely grateful.’

‘Are you suggesting going to the other side of the mirror?’ Hawthorne asked.