Fatal Charm

A Tessa Crichton Mystery

Anne Morice

• Publisher: Dean Street Press
• Year: 2021
• ISBN:
  9781914150364
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Literature
• Subtopic: Crime & Mystery Literature
• Index: Literature

'Rotten news, isn't it?'

'Rotten, ' I agreed, taking it that he referred to the state of the national economy, 'but I daresay it will come all right in the end.'

He stared at me as though I were either raving mad or drunk, which was excusable, since it turned out that he had been talking about the untimely death of Eliza Deverell.

The renowned Deverell theatrical family, gathers to celebrate the 80th birthday of its matriarch, actress Evadne Proctor, on a TV show specializing in celebrities' lives. An unexpected guest is daughter Eliza, a former actress now married to an anthropologist and living on a Pacific island. Always a source of tension in a bickering family, Eliza is soon found in her hotel room, dead from a mixture of pain-killers and alcohol.

Actress Tessa Crichton and her husband, chief inspector Robin Price, become involved, and while Evadne angles for a suicide verdict, Tessa finds that Eliza had a lot to live for. Soon other members of the Deverell clan excite Tessa's suspicions. This final 'Tessa Crichton' mystery shows Anne Morice's dry wit and keen observations in full effect.

Fatal Charm was originally published in 1988. This new edition features an introduction and afterword by crime fiction historian Curtis Evans.

'A light hand, an engaging ease, and an inventive mind: all welcome qualities in the writing of crime novels.' Financial Times

'What makes her such good company - and the whole point of Miss Morice's book is to converse, as it were, with Tessa Crichton - is not her deductive skill but her shrewd eye and quick tongue for people and situations.' Daily Telegraph

NINE

(1)

I had been curious to see how the warring factions would dispose themselves at the funeral and Ellen and I had discussed the possibilities at some length during the interminable trek to the crematorium, which appeared to be situated roughly midway between central London and the Outer Hebrides.

‘My understanding is,’ I told her, ‘that at functions of this kind the husband or wife automatically rates as next of kin. This means, incidentally, that Jeremy would take precedence over Toby, so it might be tactful of you to outlive them both.’

‘OK,’ she agreed, ‘but I can’t see what difference it makes. It’s not like a wedding.’

‘Nevertheless, there are certain rituals attached to it, the single wreath on the coffin, for one. Also it’s the custom for the chief mourner to linger in the porch after the ceremony and say a few words to each of us as we file out.’

‘Well, if Conrad has any sense he’ll leave that bit to Evadne and forget about protocol. She’d be in her element and from what I hear of him he wouldn’t give a damn for the conventions.’

‘No, but it is the kind of thing we are here to find out. People can react in unexpected ways when they’re under stress and their guards are down and I hope to get a few clues as to what kind of a man he is and whether Evadne could possibly be right about him. Oh, I say, I do believe we’ve arrived. And not so very late, after all, judging by the number of cars.’

This was over optimistic, however, for the verger, or whatever they’re called in those places, was in the act of closing the door as we came up the steps. Appearances suggested that he meant to go on doing so until it slammed in our faces, but luckily he capitulated under the spell of Ellen’s celebrated smile.

There were not more than thirty in the congregation, three-quarters of them massed together on the left of the aisle, where Evadne occupied the front pew. She was wedged between Candida and Benedick, with Cressida between him and his ex-wife, who stands out among those of my acquaintance who have reinforced the belief that people grow up to fit their names, hers being Grizel.

The two pews behind theirs were filled with a dozen or so of the younger generation, mostly unidentifiable, the tail consisting of domestic retainers, with a sprinkling of soberly dressed anonymous people, whose demeanour suggested that they spent three-quarters of their lives going to funerals. Notable absentees were Rosie and Nana.

Ellen and I chose the unfashionable right-hand side, where there was an empty pew three rows behind the one in which Venetia sat between two men. They were immediately below the pulpit, where the preacher of the day was already installed, surveying the scene before getting down to business.

One of Venetia’s escorts was a bulky man of medium age and height, with abundant hair of purest white. The other, who interested me more, partly perhaps because of my recent reflections about Grizel, was on her left and nearest the aisle. In the second or two before we all sat down I had noticed that he was exceptionally tall and thin, with a tonsure-like patch in his wispy, dark hair and fitted in all respects with the image I had created for him. In other words, whereas the first man was the embodiment of a successful Harley Street specialist, the second was the eccentric and dedicated anthropologist to the life. It was disappointing, therefore, to learn from Ellen, as we waited for Evadne and her retinue to precede us out of the chapel, that I was one hundred per cent wrong.

‘Are you sure?’ I asked, not best pleased.

‘Well, of course I’m sure. I’ve met Alec dozens of times and I remember thinking at their wedding that he’d look much more suitably dressed in a cassock than morning coat and striped trousers.’

‘So much for the unbeatable combination of logic and intuition,’ I said. ‘Come on, let’s try and nab them before they get away.’

True to predictions, Evadne was holding court in the porch, under a very fetching black and white hat, and there was no possibility of cutting short her sad little speech, or of withdrawing my hand from both of hers before she was ready to release me. Luckily, however, Ellen had taken the view that her duties were now over and had already covered the fifty yards to the parking space by the time I caught sight of her again, standing beside one of the cars and talking to her sister-in-law. There was no sign of the two men though, and, even as I approached, Venetia climbed in beside the driver and the whole party drove away.

‘Couldn’t you have delayed them for a few moments?’ I asked, as we walked towards our own car.

‘Only by brute force and I didn’t consider that necessary at this stage.’

‘I don’t know why not. God knows what other stages there are likely to be. Did you get a chance to talk to him at all?’

‘Just “hello”, you know, and all that. He’s quite attractive.’

I was impressed, not to say slightly stunned by this verdict. So far as I had been aware, since the day of her first setting eyes on Jeremy, she had scarcely noticed the existence of any other human male and it seemed to me that, in awakening such a response, Conrad had proved himself to be a rare one and no mistake. I felt crosser than ever to have missed by such a hair’s breadth the chance of meeting him myself.

‘Which is why’, Ellen continued, in her calm, unhurried way, ‘I invited Venetia to bring him and Alec for a drink this evening.’

‘You did what? No, don’t bother to repeat it, I heard you perfectly. Did she accept?’

‘Oh, you bet. She said it would be such bliss to see her little brother, which is her irritating way of referring to Jeremy.’

‘How about the other two?’

‘Oh, they’ll come, never fear. Conrad has appointments with various people this afternoon, mainly connected with his work, I gather and the plan was that they’d meet somewhere at about six and then drive down to Windsor. I am sure Alec would settle for a free drink any day of the week and Conrad won’t have much choice because he’s staying with them. In any case, Venetia will see to it. She told me she quite dreaded having to spend another whole evening with him. She finds him a bit overpowering. If you’re free this evening, why not join us? Six makes such a good number, I always say.’

‘I don’t recall you saying it before and, as you’re well aware, no power on earth would keep me away. The only snag is—’

‘If you mean Robin, why not add him to the list? Seven can be a good number too, in its way.’

‘No, not Robin, he never expects to find me bending over the hot slippers. The snag is Rodney. I promised to give him a graphic account of the funeral and he’s coming this evening. The trouble is that I need to keep on good terms with him just now because there’s a little business of your Pa’s that I want to sound him out about.’

‘You could ask him to come here instead?’

‘That’s very kind of you, Ellen, but something tells me that, although he’d be as riveted as any of us by coming face to face with Conrad, I can’t see seven being a very good number if it included Rodney. We’ll have enough cross currents whizzing about, without his contribution. No, I’ll just have to think of a tactful way of putting him off till tomorrow.’

‘OK, Tess, whatever you say. They’re invited for six fifteen, so try not to be late.’

(2)

It was as well that the glimpses I had caught of Conrad at the chapel should have prepared me for meeting him head on, for he was so unlike the demon of Evadne’s description that I might either have laughed aloud, or stared at him in disbelief.

He and the rest of his party arrived a few minutes after me and, having worked through the introductions, Ellen, with masterly stage management, installed Venetia in a chair so close to Jeremy’s that she was practically sitting in his lap, then turned the full radiance of her smile on Alec, saying how jolly it was to see him again and that she had been wondering ever since their last meeting exactly what he had meant by something or other, leaving Conrad no choice but to take the empty seat beside mine.

I had been pondering the form my opening remarks should take, whether to dispose at once with a few conventional words on the subject of Eliza’s death, or to wait for some sign from him before introducing it, but this proved to have been a waste of time. He had hardly lowered himself to the point where his face was on a level with mine before saying:

‘Venetia tells me you’re an actress. I guess I was supposed to know that without being told, but I haven’t been back to this country for four or five years now and I’m out of touch. I expect you knew my wife, Eliza, didn’t you? You’d be a good bit younger than her, but she was on the stage too for a time.’

However, before I could answer he was on his feet again and leaping across the room, somewhat in the manner of an overweight gazelle, to gather up a bowl of nuts and, after re-seating himself, to scoop up a generous handful. I had assumed that the purpose had been to give me time to change gear and take in the fact that condolences would not be welcomed, but in fact he explained it by saying that he had been too much on the go all day to find time for lunch and life in the bush for the past eight years had left him with the habit of eating whatever happened to be available whenever he got the chance.

‘And did your wife fall into those ways too?’ I asked, hoping to hit the right note. ‘Before you answer, though, I must tell you that I never met her, although I wish so much that I had.’

‘Yes, I wish you had too. She was an extraordinary woman in lots of ways.’

‘It will be hard to adapt yourself to living out there without her, I imagine.’

He paused, his hand already half-way to his mouth with a fresh consignment of nuts, then changed course and tossed them back in the bowl, saying flatly:

‘I should imagine so too. It hadn’t occurred to me to put myself to the test. I never had the slightest intention of going back there without Eliza.’

‘Oh, I see. Forgive me, I should have realised how impossible it would be for you, but you seemed so—’

‘So what?’

‘I find it difficult to express without sounding even more insensitive. It was just that you appeared to have yourself so firmly under control and also, having heard about your dedication and single-mindedness, I thought perhaps your work might be a, well, not consolation exactly, but way of blotting out other thoughts and memories. I’m sorry if I offended you.’

‘No, you haven’t offended me in the least, Tessa. I am rather touched by your concern; curious too. In fact, I wouldn’t half mind prolonging the conversation, only this wouldn’t be quite the time and place for it, do you think?’

‘Not quite, no.’

‘So how about having lunch with me tomorrow?’

‘I thought you were staying down in Windsor.’

‘So I am, but I wasn’t suggesting you should come there. I still have some business to settle in London and tomorrow would be as good a day as any. One o’clock at the Ritz suit you?’

‘Thank you, I shall look forward to it.’

Ellen and Alec, who had left the room a few minutes earlier, now returned, each bearing a dish of smoked salmon canapes, the larger of which Ellen set down on the table in front of Conrad.

‘I made these before you came,’ she explained, ‘and then forgot all about them. Do help yourself.’

Seeing this as the signal for a game of general post, I gave up my place to her on the sofa and ambled over to endear myself to Venetia by telling her what a fantastically stunning dress she was wearing.

‘Instant conquest,’ Ellen said when the Windsor party had left and Jeremy had retired to his study to put through a few mergers and take-over bids before dinner. ‘I noticed you had struck up quite a rapport, but I hadn’t realised he’d made as much progress as that. He’s a fast worker, I’ll say that for him.’

‘You are quite mistaken,’ I told her, ‘in inferring that his attentions had anything to do with me, personally.’

‘He has a funny way of not showing it.’

‘Shall I tell you what my theory is?’

‘Yes, do!’

‘That his dependence, or whatever you care to call it, on Eliza was based on companionship as much as anything else. And, after all, why not? They could never have stuck that life as long as they did without each other’s company and she was probably well above average in wit and intelligence. It would account for his decision not to return to the island without her and, if you ask me, what he misses most just now is some female to listen and encourage him to talk about himself. With all her virtues, one couldn’t expect much in that line from Venetia and I just happened to be around to act as audience. It could just as easily have been you, or any number of other women who happen to be familiar with these particular ropes. Don’t you agree that’s the whole, complete answer?’

‘Well, perhaps not the whole one, no.’

‘Really, Ellen, it’s not like you to be obstinate. What’s the objection?’

‘Mainly that it’s based wholly and completely on what I believe is called hearsay in Robin’s circles. Your only reason for assuming that Conrad relied so heavily on Eliza is that Evadne told you so. And yet in the next sentence you say that she was capable of making up any old thing in order to throw suspicion on him. For all you k...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title Page/About the Book
• Contents
• Introduction by Curtis Evans
• ONE
• TWO
• THREE
• FOUR
• FIVE
• SIX
• SEVEN
• EIGHT
• NINE
• TEN
• ELEVEN
• TWELVE
• THIRTEEN
• FOURTEEN
• FIFTEEN
• SIXTEEN
• SEVENTEEN
• Afterword
• About The Author
• Titles by Anne Morice
• Copyright