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 So at last you had the sense to come in out of the
rain.
Mr Munro s voice was dry and harsh and mocking.
Belinda s eyes grew wide with shock and
involuntarily she glanced at the picture of her aunt
above the bed, the secret hiding place.
It was still intact.
Mr Munro caught the glance and with a satisfied
smile he stepped over to the wall and lifted the picture
gently onto the bed.
 Thank you, my dear.
He tore the backing from the frame and his gnarled
fingers closed about the prize he sought, the garden
plan of Capability Brown.
He tossed the photograph onto the floor and
stamped a resentful foot on the image of aunt Jane.
The glass shattered and embedded shimmering razor
sharp fragments into the smooth features of the faded
debutante.
 Stubborn old bitch, he muttered through twisted
lips,  even to the end she held onto the plans. She d
still be alive today if she had done as I wished.
Belinda drew her breath in sharply, still mesmerised
by the presence of the old man.
Mr Munro raised his eyes to Belinda.  Oh yes, he
said softly,  she knew I wanted the plans and the
property, and when she wouldn t give me what I
wanted, I simply arranged to take it.
With surprising swiftness he crossed the room and
grasped Belinda s wrist. His strength astonished her as
he dragged her from the room to the top of the stairs.
Mr Munro angrily pushed the garden map close to
Belinda s face.
 She found me here one day. He spat the words out
in a frenzy of hate.  I came looking for the map. She
was in the garden. It was easy to enter without her
knowing and I searched the house. A sour smile
curved his thin mouth.  I came from the bedroom just
as she reached the top of the stairs. The stupid woman
realised what I was searching for and threatened to call
the police and charge me with trespass.
He strengthened his grip on Belinda and drew her to
the edge of the top stair.
 Look down, my dear, he breathed softly into
Belinda s ear, his voice filled with vindictive
excitement.
 It s quite a long way, particularly when you are
getting on in years. And a fall like that would have to
prove fatal.
 You murdered her!
Munro shrugged.  It was so easy. Just a gentle push
and a kick to dispense with her reliable walking stick.
He sniggered and raised his foot, miming the action
of the kick.
The carpet beneath his other foot suddenly moved
under him. Belinda looked down at the step.
The carpet, which had been firmly fixed, was now
loose and stretched.
Mr Munro s eyes widened in alarm as he lost his
balance, the carpet seemingly fluid beneath him.
He tottered back, his grip on Belinda loosening. The
garden map fell from his fingers and he clutched at the
air to regain it. The momentum forced him further back
and with a frozen look of fear and bewilderment on his
suddenly child-like face, the old man fell heavily down
the stairs.
The banister shattered beneath his weight and a
ragged shaft of wood tore into his face as he
plummeted down into the darkness below.
With a thud he hit the floor and lay, a lifeless
mockery, in the position in which Belinda discovered
her aunt s corpse.
Belinda clutched at the remaining banister to
prevent herself from falling. At her feet lay the ancient
garden plan. With shivering fingers she reached for it.
As she stood erect she was suddenly aware that the
rain had stopped and the silence around her was
almost tangible. Then there was another sound
emerging from the stillness. A sound filled with horror
and loathing.
It was the sound of her own scream.
Sixteen
The late evening summer sun beat down on the brown
backs of the workmen as they toiled in the near
completed garden. Belinda stood on the terrace and
sipped her cup of tea. In her hand a sheaf of accounts
fluttered in the warm breeze and she gave a soft sigh
of pleasure. At long last the garden was almost
realised. In a few weeks most of the plants would have
been positioned and Jon Marshall, the landscape
gardener Belinda had chosen, would have finished his
re-creation. From then on it would be maintenance
work and the glory that Capability Brown had
envisaged all those years ago would exist again for all
to see.
Hazel Whitby stood beside Belinda. The ice in her
gin and tonic chinked softly as she lowered her glass.
 It s going to be wonderful, isn t it? asked Belinda,
her voice trembling with pride.
She recalled the chaos and confusion of
uncontrolled jungle that greeted her when she arrived
that winter s day in answer to aunt Jane s letter.
Hazel hesitated before replying. Her eyes were
straying from barebacked workman to barebacked
workman.
 Hmm & wonderful. That s certainly the word for it.
Belinda smiled at her companion.
 Hazel. I m talking about the garden. Not what
you re fantasising about.
One of the workmen, a young Spaniard, paused to
wipe his brow. He gave the two women a brazen smile [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]