Murder at the Villa Byzantine

14

Young and Innocent

At ten minutes to three in the morning their phone rang. With a groan, Major Payne reached out for it.

‘Hello?’

‘Who is that?’

He gave their phone number. What a bloody nuisance. It was probably some drunk misdialling.

‘Is that you, Hugh?’

‘Yes,’ Payne said after a pause. ‘It’s Hugh Payne speaking.’

‘Oh hi, Hugh. I wanted to say hi. Sorry, that’s a totally dumb thing to say, but it’s freezing cold here.’

‘Who is it?’ The next moment he knew. ‘Good lord.’ He raised himself on his elbow. ‘Moon?’

She sniffed. ‘Yes.’

‘Where are you? Not in jail, are you?’

‘You wish!’

‘Sorry. Where are you phoning from?’

‘What does it matter where I’m phoning from? Why does everybody want to know where I am? Julia would be mad with me if she knew I was phoning you. That’s James’ sister. She’d be totally mad.’

‘I wouldn’t be in the least surprised. Do you know what time it is?’

‘No. Julia is a bitch.’

‘You shouldn’t talk like that.’

‘Julia’s a bitch from hell. I don’t like her. I hate her. Always asking me what I’m doing, where I’m going, why my eyes are red. She thinks I smoke pot. It doesn’t occur to her I might be sad. That I might have been crying.’

‘Do you smoke pot?’ Really, Payne thought, I should ring off. It was some unearthly hour.

‘You think I killed my mother, don’t you?’

‘I think you should be in bed.’

‘Do you think that if a person truly defines themselves by dark actions, when their identity is actually shaped by sin, then their soul may indeed be beyond salvation?’

‘I think you should be in bed,’ he said again.

‘It bothers me, questions like that.’

‘What’s the matter, Hugh?’ Antonia asked, her voice muffled by the pillow.

‘Sorry, darling,’ Payne said.

‘You called me darling!’ Moon giggled. ‘You are funny.’

‘I wasn’t talking to you. I was talking to my wife.’ Payne gave an exasperated sigh and, putting his hand over the receiver, said, ‘It’s Moon.’

‘Moon!’

‘Why aren’t you in bed?’ Payne spoke into the receiver.

‘Where are you?’

‘Where am I? Outside the witches’ house, if you want to know. I’m not a bit sleepy.’

‘What witches?’

‘The Witches of Kinderhook. I mean James’ ex – Melisande – and her sister – what was her name? Winifred? Actually, she’s the scarier of the two. She looks like the nice one, but she freaked me out at that party. It’s the way she smiles-’

‘Are you really standing outside Kinderhook?’

‘Yep. I am talking to you on my mobile… Their house is dark… No. One window is very dimly lit. Whose room is that, I wonder? The witches may be casting midnight spells… Now I am turning round… Now I am looking at your house. I know which one it is. Your house is dark too.’

‘Are you serious? Are you really in our street?’

‘Totally. I am looking at your house at this very moment. I can’t see much because your house is dark. All your windows are dark.’

‘What’s going on, Hugh?’ Antonia turned on the bedside table lamp.

‘You turned on the bedside light just now – or your wife did,’ said Moon. ‘It’s an upstairs window. Doesn’t that freak you out?’

Payne turned towards Antonia. ‘Moon is actually in our street – looking at our house.’

‘Will you give me a cup of coffee? I’m freezing,’ Moon said. ‘I have started walking towards your house… I am actually standing at your front door now… You’ve got a cool knocker. Is that a tiger’s head? Or a lion’s?’

‘A lion’s,’ Payne said mechanically.

‘Shall I ring or knock? I’ll ring – is that OK? Now I am ringing your bell-’

Her phone went dead. The next moment they heard their front door bell ring.

As Major Payne donned his yellow dressing gown with its very vivid scarlet lining and lapels and put on his slippers, he wondered whether he would get one of those instantaneous flashes of intuitive certainty the moment he clapped eyes on her. Would he be able to say at once, Yes, she killed her mother? He knew it was an absurd idea, yet his heart beat fast in his chest. He turned on the lights and he started walking down the stairs. It was three in the morning, the clock on the wall told him.

He unchained the front door. Moon entered the hall and followed him into the drawing room.

‘Were you asleep?’ she asked.

‘Well, yes. Does that surprise you? It’s three in the morning.’

‘Is it? I thought it was ten to midnight. Sorry. I thought you might be watching telly or reading a book or playing cards with your wife or something.’ Her voice sounded hoarse and she was shivering. She sat down in one of the armchairs and crossed her legs.

Black spiky hair. They all seemed to have spiky hair nowadays. Lowish forehead, slightly oriental eyes, broad full mouth. Attractive, in a gamin kind of way. Her face was white, the dark eyes looked feverish. He couldn’t see the pupils, but then his eyelids were still gummed by sleep. Had she taken some substance? Her lips were bluish. She must be frozen. She wore black mittens and the long black coat. The shinel with the bloodstains. Also jeans and boxfresh trainers with orange laces.

Did she look like a killer? Payne found his eyes straying to the girl’s hands. What was it Morland had said? Moon had broken her wrist a couple of months ago, ergo she wouldn’t have been able to lift a heavy samurai sword, let alone deliver a lethal blow with it.

There was something vulnerable about her – in spite of, or was it because of, her ultra-casual manner? Only sixteen – looked older, though. What a pedigree! Mother beheaded, father in jail…

‘It’s warm in here,’ she said, looking round. ‘Cool room.’

‘Isn’t that a contradiction in terms?’

‘You are funny.’ Suddenly she sat very still and fixed him with her dark eyes.

‘I’ll put the kettle on,’ Payne said. ‘You said coffee, right? Not tea?’

‘No. I hate tea. Coffee. Black. Three sugars. I drink it mega strong – three or four spoonfuls, if it’s instant.’

‘Won’t that be too strong?’

‘I like it mega strong. You look sleepy.’

‘I feel sleepy.’

‘Did I wake you up?’

‘I believe you did.’

‘You’ve got stubble. You haven’t shaved, have you?’

‘It’s three in the morning.’

As he walked towards the kitchen, Payne wondered if there was something particularly valuable in the drawing room that was small enough for her to pinch and drop into the shinel’s – no doubt – bottomless pockets. One of Antonia’s amber cats – the tiny but exceedingly precious Wedgwood vase – or perhaps his great uncle’s silver snuff box?

Five past three. Payne didn’t care for the appraising look she had given him. The girl’s gaze seemed to hold a certain suggestive element

… He was old enough to be her grandfather… He shouldn’t have let her in… Most unwise. Might make all sorts of claims afterwards. Must try to get rid of her as soon as possible. Put her into a cab and despatch her back to Kensington… The tube closed at half past midnight… How long had the girl been standing in their street?

Heaven knew when he’d be able to get back to bed, if at all… He heard Antonia’s voice coming from the drawing room. She’d come down and was talking to Moon.

Placing the three steaming cups and the tin of Fortnum amp; Mason’s chocolate biscuits on the tray, he carried it gingerly to the drawing room.

Suddenly he was possessed by the not entirely rational conviction that Moon could not have murdered her mother, that suspecting her was a waste of time, that it was somewhere else they should be looking for the killer…