The Shooting in the Shop

Twenty-Six

If it hadn’t been for Gulliver, they would have had a drink at the Crown and Anchor. But he wasn’t allowed in the pub, and leaving him tied up outside on a winter’s day would have been sheer cruelty. So they returned to High Tor and while the dog settled down in front of the Aga, Carole opened another of the Chilean Chardonnays. “Most people still think it’s Christmas, after all,” she said.

The Aga’s heat was cosy, so they stayed in the kitchen.

“I’ve just realized,” Carole announced, “that we’ve been very stupid.”

“In what way?”

“Well, there’s one question we should have asked ourselves much earlier, as soon as we met Ricky Le Bonnier.”

“And what is that question?”

“Why he’s called Le Bonnier.”

Jude caught on immediately. “Yes, of course. Le Bonnier is Flora’s maiden name, and the way she went on about her family history, it’s one she’s very proud of.”

“And it’s common, I believe, for actresses to retain their maiden names for professional purposes.”

“Particularly if they don’t marry.”

“True. Though we’ve no idea whether Flora ever did marry.”

“No mention of any weddings in her autobiography. Which, of course, takes us straight back to the question of who Ricky’s father was.”

“Yes.” Carole felt acutely frustrated. If only she’d realized the importance of the information at the time, she might have pressed Old Garge on the subject of possible paternity. But then Piers had interrupted their discussions. And, come to that, why had Piers suddenly arrived at that moment? What was his connection with the former Rupert Sonning?

“Well,” said Jude, “we know that at school Ricky was known as Ricky Brown. So the logical answer might be that he was the son of Flora Le Bonnier and a ‘Mr Brown’.”

“Do you think Kath’d know more about that?”

“I doubt it. She said Ricky never mentioned his father. What she did talk about, though, which might be relevant, was the time when Ricky left her to go and work in the music business in London, when he was seduced away by the first of his ‘Devil Women’.” Carole’s eyes looked up to the ceiling in exasperation. “I was wondering if that was when he changed his name. Realizing, perhaps, that Le Bonnier was a name that might carry some weight in the world of show business?”

“It’s possible,” Carole conceded. “and clearly at some point there was a big change in Ricky’s relationship with his mother. During his childhood she appears almost to have denied his existence, but when she was here at your party she seemed close to hero-worshipping him.”

“Yes.” It was Jude’s turn to look frustrated now. “If only I’d thought to ask these questions when I went to sort out Flora’s back.”

“Maybe she’ll have a relapse and summon you again.”

“Maybe…” A new thought came to Jude, spreading a beam across her rounded face. “But of course we will be seeing both Ricky and Flora on tomorrow evening.” Carole looked puzzled. “Their New Year’s Eve Party at Fedingham Court House.”

“Oh yes.” Puzzlement gave way to anxiety on Carole’s face. “Are you sure I’m invited to that? I mean, I haven’t received an invitation.”

“Of course you’re invited. I asked specially. And, given the number of questions to which we need answers, it’ll be a good thing to have us both there.”

“Yes, it will.” Carole drummed her fingers impatiently on the kitchen table. “So what can we do till then? In terms of investigation?”

“Well, I suppose tomorrow morning you can have another attempt to talk to the Devil Woman who Kath saw in Ricky’s car on the evening of the fire.”

“Anna. Yes, I’ll try that. And at least tomorrow morning I’ll have Gulliver with me, so I won’t look such an idiot.”

Jude smiled inwardly at this latest of her neighbour’s neuroses as she said, “The other thing we can do is try to find Old Garge again.”