The Death of Corinne

12

In the Teeth of the Evidence

‘Nothing special,’ Lady Grylls declared several moments later, when he had obligingly spread the photocopies of the anonymous messages on the table before her. ‘You crazy bitch. Prepare to die. She wrote the same thing three times. You crazy bitch. Prepare to die. You crazy -’ Lady Grylls tapped her lips with her fingers in a feigned yawn. ‘Goodness, how tedious… Are these the letters?’

‘Yes. First – second – third,’ Jonson said, arranging them in order.

There was a pause as they read the first letter. ‘She clearly felt the overwhelming need to unburden herself… Her shrink couldn’t have been doing his job very well,’ Major Payne murmured after a while.

‘Very interesting,’ Antonia said. ‘Sad too, in a way.’

‘Do you think so? I don’t lack compassion, but I find it hard to be sympathetic to the Mrs Venableses of this world.’

‘Totally potty,’ Lady Grylls said. ‘She calls Corinne a witch but it is she who sticks pins in the doll and asks Corinne if it hurts! Who is Mrs Venables, Hughie?’

‘A monstrous matriarch whose son Sebastian dies an outlandish death. It’s a play.’

‘She calls Corinne a crazy bitch, but it is more than clear she is the crazy one. I believe there is a word for it… Transference? When you attribute your demons to somebody else? I say, that’s the same phrase as in the death threats!’ Lady Grylls cried with an air of discovery. ‘Crazy bitch. You do see – don’t you?’ She pushed her glasses up her nose.

‘We do, darling.’

‘It’s certainly suggestive,’ Jonson said non-committally.

‘Suggestive? My good man – it’s what they call a clincher! It proves beyond doubt that the blasted American woman wrote the death threats as well. You need look no further. She’s your pigeon.’

‘That would be the obvious conclusion, yes.’

What is the matter, Corinne? Why don’t you answer? (The second letter began.) It is now more than a month since I wrote to you. Airmail letters take no more than four days to get to Europe. I did check. I sent the letter to Fabiola, your record company in France, by registered mail, same as my first. You must have received it, so why don’t you answer? I wouldn’t have minded a postcard, with just a few words of acknowledgement and some expression of sympathy, perhaps? Is that too much to ask?

You couldn’t have been busy. If you had been, it would have said so on your official website. (I check your Agenda every day, twice.) You have had only one concert and that was last November. It is January now. You can’t pretend you never received my letters. I wouldn’t believe you if you said you didn’t.

Last night after I went to bed and turned off the light, I heard a voice whispering in my ear. I’d been expecting to hear from Griff, but it wasn’t his voice. It was a woman’s voice. (It sounded uncannily like mine!) It was very interesting, what the voice said. ‘Remember the singing mermaids that lured poor Odysseus’ sailors to their doom?’

The letter ended abruptly, with a squiggle and the initials E.M.

‘Why isn’t this person in a loony bin?’ Lady Grylls scowled at Jonson as though expecting him to provide an immediate answer.

The third letter in contrast was startlingly amiable – cheerful and girlish. To Antonia’s way of thinking it was the spookiest of the three. Eleanor Merchant appeared to have been on some kind of a ‘high’ when she wrote it.

Dear Corinne, I haven’t heard from you yet, but I want you to know that I am not in the least mad at you. I am not! I am sorry I lost my temper last time. Perhaps it wasn’t your fault. Perhaps you didn’t receive any of my letters. Well, letters do get lost in the post – even registered ones!! In fact I think I know what must have happened: the person at Fabiola didn’t pass them on to you! They simply forgot!! You should have them sacked!

I have a surprise for you. I am flying to Paris next week. Yes! I have already booked my plane ticket, a week from today. I have started brushing up my French by re-reading Maupassant’s short ‘contes’ in the original, though of course your English is perfect.

There have been developments. They have changed my medication and I feel much more positive about things. More importantly, most importantly, Griff has been trying to get through to me. I heard his voice this morning, only it was so muffled, it was hard to make out what he was saying. He sounded as though he were speaking through a cushion, or had filled his mouth with cotton wool. I am sure it is only a question of time before we manage to establish proper contact. In the manner of a demanding film director, I keep rehearsing our reunion in my mind, striving to make it more moving, more triumphant. I am full of hope. I await my reunion with Griff with a girl’s ardour. This world has its impossible limitations but the idea no longer troubles me. A whole new dimension has opened up! The realization has put a smile on my face. It felt as though I had been watching a conjuror make dozens of gaudy umbrellas explode out of a small box!

You and I shall meet soon. There are all sorts of questions I would like to put to you. I know that what you did was very, very wrong, but I am prepared to give you a chance, so that you could explain yourself. Au revoir. A bientot!

‘Prozac?’ Antonia said thoughtfully. ‘Morphine?’

Payne pointed to the dates. ‘Eleanor Merchant’s last letter from America was written on 25th February. She said she’d be flying to Paris in a week’s time… 4th March? All the envelopes that contained the death threats have Paris stamps – 5th March, 8th March, 11th March… They’ve been written at three-day intervals.’

‘That’s what they call irrefutable evidence. It’s her. Eleanor Merchant.’ Lady Grylls leant towards Jonson and tapped his arm. ‘You’d be a fool if you went looking for anybody else. You’d be wasting your time.’

‘You are probably right, Lady Grylls, but I do need to collate the evidence, sequence it and assess it properly.’

‘You’d be wasting your time,’ she repeated.

‘How did the death threats reach Corinne?’ Major Payne asked.

‘Through Fabiola, that’s Mademoiselle Coreille’s record company – same as the letters.’

‘It’s her,’ Lady Grylls said. ‘Eleanor. What do you think, my dear? She compares Corinne to the singing mermaids and so on. Hasn’t it been said that obvious solutions are usually the correct ones?’

Antonia agreed that that was so. The other, also rather obvious possibility – she went on after a moment’s hesitation, rather apologetically – was that somebody was using Eleanor Merchant as a scapegoat. Eleanor had written the letters all right, but she might be no more than a harmless lunatic while it was another person – the real killer – who had sent the death threats to Corinne. Eleanor Merchant was being set up – as the killer prepared to strike.

‘I wouldn’t call Eleanor Merchant harmless,’ Lady Grylls said. ‘But if you are right, then it’s got to be somebody who is familiar with Eleanor Merchant’s letters!’

‘Someone who’s close to Corinne – who has had access to her private papers – who knows about Eleanor Merchant’s letters.’ Major Payne paused. ‘A member of Corinne’s coterie – of her inner circle?’

‘I don’t think there’s such a thing as an inner circle,’ Jonson said. ‘There’s only Maitre Maginot.’

‘Ah. The ruthless, manipulative, cunning, power-mad Maitre.’ Lady Grylls gave a portentous nod. ‘I completely forgot about her.’

‘Darling, you are attributing to her qualities normally associated with the conclaves of the Mafia capi… Well, it might be the chambermaid who was so unceremoniously sacked for selling stories to the press,’ Payne went on. ‘Emilie. Emilie, you must agree, has a goodish reason for seeking revenge, wouldn’t you say?’

‘Emilie left in December. Eleanor Merchant’s first letter arrived a month later, in January,’ Antonia pointed out.

‘Does Corinne employ a large staff?’ Payne turned to Jonson.

‘No, not that large. Two maids, a secretary, a gardener, two security guards. They have very little contact with Mademoiselle Coreille… As it happens, they are all rather young. In their twenties. I understand some of them hadn’t even heard of Corinne Coreille when they went for their interviews. It is Maitre Maginot who does the interviewing. She deals with references, conducts all the character checks, draws up the contracts and so on.’

There was a pause. ‘Why only young people?’ Antonia said.

‘Fear of age? The cult of youth?’ Payne stroked his jaw with a thoughtful forefinger. ‘All in keeping with Corinne’s unchanging appearance? Perhaps they don’t want people who are old enough to remember Corinne in her prime?’

‘I think you just said something very interesting -’ Antonia broke off and frowned. ‘I don’t know in what way exactly it is interesting

…’

‘I am sure it will come to you in due course. The little grey cells, they will not fail you.’ Lady Grylls tapped her forehead significantly.

Antonia saw Jonson run his hand across his face. She remembered how deeply he had flushed earlier on. Once more she wondered about what it was he knew.