The Landower Legacy

DISCLOSURES

During the days which followed I did not want to meet people. I knew that the great topic of conversation throughout the neighbourhood would be the search of the mine shaft and the return of Gwennie.

I did hear certain comments and it amazed me how those who had been so certain that Gwennie’s body would be found in the mine shaft now declared they had never suspected foul play for one moment and they had guessed all the time that she had gone off somewhere without saying.

I did not go to Landower. I did not want to see Gwennie and I was afraid of seeing Paul. I just wanted to shut myself away for a little while. All that had happened had been a great shock to me and that was partly because I had suspected that Paul, driven beyond endurance, might have killed her. It was a terrible accusation to make against the man one loved; and it taught me something about myself. Even if he had, I should have been ready to shield him.

Because of my immature dreams into which I had set Paul during the time I was growing up, because of my infatuation for Jeremy Brandon, I had sometimes wondered how deep my love for Paul had gone. I was in no doubt now. I loved him for ever and ever.

But our case seemed hopeless and I must come to some decision about my life. I had Livia and I had Tressidor. Livia and I could leave, but could I leave Tressidor? Could I sell it? The ancestral home of the Tressidors. But I was not really one of them. My mother had merely married into the family and my father was not one of them either.

What did I owe Tressidor? I ought to get away. What life could I ever build up here? Moreover there was this niggling fear in my mind. Suppose what I had imagined had happened, actually did. It could so easily I believed, for would it have been so unusual, so unexpected? Many—including myself—had believed it could happen.

These were more grim thoughts.

Cousin Mary, I said to myself, If you are watching me now, if you know what is happening here, you will understand. I know what this place meant to you. I know that you wanted me to carry on … and it was what I wanted. It meant a good deal to me. But I can’t stay here, and I feel that what has happened has been a sort of rehearsal, a warning. It has brought home to me so clearly what could be. How can anyone go on enduring this state of affairs? How near to murder can ordinary people come? Perhaps if they are goaded beyond endurance … Cousin Mary, would you understand?

I thought: I will go to London. I will talk to Rosie … and perhaps Jago. They might help me decide.

Livia wanted to go to Landower to play with Julian. “The two of them are so good together,” said Nanny Loman. “Julian is like a big brother to her. I’ve never seen two play together like those two do.”

So Nanny Loman took Livia over to Landower.

When she came back she found an early opportunity of talking to me.

She said: “Mrs. Landower’s gone off again.”

“Gone off?”

“Off on her travels.”

“Oh, where this time?”

“She hasn’t said.”

“She seems to like these mystery tours. I hope she has taken her comb with her this time. Did you find out?”

“As a matter of fact I did. It appears she has taken it.”

“Then all is well,” I said.

Gwennie had been away a week. I had seen Paul and we went together into the woods where we could talk in peace.

“I wonder where she has gone this time,” I said.

“She was so amused at the last upheaval. I suppose she thought she would do it again.”

“Nobody seems excited about it this time.”

“Well, you can’t play the same trick twice.”

I said: “I’ve been thinking a great deal. I am beginning to wonder whether I ought after all to sell up here and get right away.”

“You can’t do that.”

“I could, and sometimes I think it is the only solution.”

“It’s defeatism.”

“It is a retreat from something which could become intolerable for us all.”

“That last affair shattered you, didn’t it? I think you really believed I had hit her on the head with a blunt instrument and thrown her down the mine shaft.”

I was silent, then I said: “I’m afraid, Paul. This is getting out of hand. She will never let you go.”

“I could leave.”

“Leave Landower … for which you would always crave. It’s different with Tressidor. I wasn’t brought up in it. I’m not even a Tressidor. I just have the name because my mother happened to be married to one. I don’t feel the ties of a home which has always been mine and my family’s.”

“You would leave me.”

“Only because I have a feeling that it could be dangerous to stay.”

“People live with these situations.”

“Yes, that’s true.”

“Then couldn’t we compromise? We can’t have what we want but need we lose everything?”

“We have gone over that ground before. I could become your mistress. That’s what you mean. But between us there is more than a physical relationship. It would not satisfy either of us completely. We should hanker for the really stable things … the things that matter … home, family, the honourable life, the honest life. We live in glass houses, as it were. We are watched all the time. And sooner or later … the explosion would come. I saw it all so clearly when they were exploring the mine … I have to think, Paul. I have to make up my mind.”

He did not try to persuade me this time. There was nothing to be said. We had said it all before.

We walked through the trees, close …

And I thought: It is the only way.

I rode out to the moor.

Gwennie had still not returned and there was no news of her. No one seemed to think that strange.

I wondered where she was this time. Had she gone to Scotland to make further enquiries into poor Jamie’s past or was she investigating someone else? But it might be that she had gone away out of mischief. She had been so amused by all the speculation.

How desolate it seemed on the moor! How different from the last time I had seen it with the crowd of morbid sightseers gathered there!

I felt an impulse to walk on the springy turf so I tethered my horse to a boulder and did so. I felt I wanted to go near to the mine and almost involuntarily my footsteps led me towards it.

How lonely it was!

I was near the edge now. Suppose I were to see a black dog or a white hare, what should I do?

The wind moaned a little as it ruffled the grass where it grew tall and I noticed that several clumps of gorse were in bloom.

Suddenly I heard the wheels of a trap and the clip-clop of a horse’s hoofs. I looked up and recognized it at once as my own trap. That meant that someone had taken it into Liskeard to get some purchases, I imagined.

The driver had seen me and pulled up.

He called to me: “Miss Tressidor.”

It was Jamie.

“Hello, Jamie. Have you been into the town?”

He alighted and, patting the horse, whispered something to it. Then he came towards me, Lionheart at his heels.

“Oh, Miss Tressidor, what are you doing near the mine?”

“I was just having a walk.”

“You shouldn’t go so close.”

“I was just wondering whether I should see the black dog … and here is Lionheart instead.”

The dog came to me and gave a friendly bark, wagging his tail. I stooped and patted him. He ran close to the mine.

“Have you just been shopping?”

“Just to get one or two things. The trap is handy.”

“It would be impossible without,” I said. “It’s a lovely day.”

“Too sultry. There’s thunder in the air.”

“Who told you that? The bees?”

“There’s nothing they don’t know about weather.”

“Of course. What’s the matter with Lionheart?”

The dog was standing on the very edge of the mine, barking.

“Come away,” called Jamie. His voice was sharp. “Lion, this instant. Come.”

Lionheart came slowly with his tail between his legs. Jamie stooped and patted him.

“Don’t you go near the mine, there’s a good dog.”

Lionheart looked regretfully back to the mine and for a moment I thought he was going to disobey orders.

“Well,” said Jamie, “I reckon I’d better be getting back. Up you go, Lion. And Miss Tressidor. I wouldn’t linger about on the moors if I were you.”

“Why, Jamie?”

“You were too close to the mine. It seems to have a sort of fascination for you.”

“I suppose it does. It’s all the talk about it. Goodbye, Jamie.”

I watched the horse trot away and I walked slowly back to where my horse was tethered thinking that there was something different about Jamie. He was not quite himself.

I decided that I would call on him. I wondered if something was worrying him. Was something wrong with the bees or perhaps some of the animals?

He was as delighted to see me as ever and set about making tea.

“Jamie,” I said, when he sat down beside me and poured out from the brown earthenware pot, “is anything wrong?”

“Why do you ask, Miss Tressidor?”

“I just felt there might be something.”

He looked at me steadily for a few moments and then he said: “Donald has been back.”

“Donald! Your brother. The one who …”

He nodded. “Yes, Miss Tressidor. Donald has been back … been here.”

“Oh, Jamie, and you hoped he would never find you.”

“He’s been here,” he repeated.

“Has he caused trouble?”

“I’m afraid he will.”

“What does he want?”

“He’s just found me out.”

“Where is he now?”

“He’s gone.”

“He can’t do you any harm.”

“He can, Miss Tressidor. He can finish everything.”

“No, Jamie. We won’t let him do that.”

“You don’t know Donald.”

“Only what you’ve told me about him.”

“Donald’s wicked. I don’t want him here, Miss Tressidor. He’ll spoil everything … everything I’ve built up since I’ve been here.”

“He can’t … if we won’t let him.”

He was silent for a while.

“Donald’s a murderer,” he said. “I always knew he had it in him. When he was a boy … I’ve seen him hurt things. Kill things … little animals. It used to come over him. He couldn’t help it, I think. He just wanted to kill. Little furry things … white mice, rabbits … things like that. Pets we had. He’d love them for a bit and then you’d find one of them dead. It was this urge to kill.”

“We won’t allow him to upset you, Jamie. You’re settled here now. You’ve got your home in the lodge and everything is satisfactory.”

“I’ve never told you about it, Miss Tressidor, but if I had told anyone it would have been you … or Miss Mary. She was good to me and so have you been.”

“Would you like to tell me about it? Tell me why you are so afraid of him. I promise you he can’t harm you.”

“Well, you see, he was married. He married Effie. I loved Effie.”

“You mean you both loved the same girl?”

He was silent. “Poor Jamie,” I went on, “and she married Donald.”

He nodded. “People change. Effie was a bright girl … full of fun. She liked going out and about … dancing and things like that and when they were married they couldn’t do it. Money … things like that … you understand?”

“Yes,” I said, “I understand.”

“She went on and on … years of it. She was never satisfied … she was wishing they never married. Nag … nag … and one night Donald picked up a poker and hit her on the head and pushed her downstairs. It was murder and Donald did it. But they couldn’t prove it. Not proven. That was what they said and Donald went free.”

“How long ago was that, Jamie?”

“Ten years.”

“And all that time Donald hasn’t been near you.”

“I got away. I couldn’t stand it. I was afraid of Donald. I knew, you see. I remembered that little white mouse we had. I remembered how he couldn’t help himself when the mood was on him. And I didn’t want to see Donald … ever again. I knew there could only be peace for me if Donald were not around.”

“And now he’s come here?”

“Yes, he came.”

“When was this?”

“Some days ago.”

“And did he go away again?”

“Yes, I told him to go. I said, ‘Don’t come here any more.’ I said, ‘You’re dead to me. I can’t do with you here, Donald, you’ll spoil my life.” “

“Is it as bad as that? He is your brother.”

“You don’t know Donald. He’s quiet for a time and you think it’s all right and then … the wickedness comes out. Donald must never come here … not in my home … no, no.”

“I understand. But where has he gone now?”

Jamie shook his head.

“And he’s discovered where you are. That’s what’s worrying you.”

Jamie nodded. “You see, he came back.”

I said: “You’re overwrought, Jamie. You’re making too much of this. You’re afraid he’s going to harm your animals … Lionheart, Tiger and your waifs and strays. Look here, if he comes again, send for me. I’ll come and see what we can do.”

“You’re so good to me,” he said.

I left him then. Poor Jamie, he felt so strongly about his brother. I supposed one would about someone who had committed a murder.

There was still no news of Gwennie. I tried not to think of her but I could not get her out of my mind. That she was mischievous I knew. She had been very intrigued by all the drama her absence had aroused. But would she go away again? She would know that she could not provoke that sort of speculation again and so soon.

I wanted to go into the town to do some shopping and on these occasions I took the trap. It was early afternoon and I went to the stables to tell them to get it ready for me.

This they did and in a short time I was driving along the country lanes, my thoughts still busy as they had been for some time with the future. I could not make up my mind what it held for me. I would wake in the morning saying I must do one thing and by midday I had decided against it.

I must leave Cornwall, I would say. And then, No, no. I could never leave.

And so it went on.

I chatted awhile in the shops. Everyone knew about the return of Gwennie and the fact that the mine had been explored. They still talked of it.

“A storm in a teacup, that were, Miss Tressidor.”

I agreed it was.

“She’s not like the likes of we,” said the postmistress. “She’m a foreigner, right from up north. They has some funny ways up there.”

I supposed I was also a foreigner; but at least I had the name of Tressidor.

I went back to the stables and as I was about to get out something caught my eye. It glittered and was protruding from under the seat. I stooped and picked it up. It was a comb—a comb I had seen before—a small Spanish type with a row of brilliants decorating the top.

Gwennie’s comb!

In the Tressidor trap! How had it got there?

There was one thought which persisted in my mind. If Gwennie’s comb was in the trap, Gwennie must have been there, too.

I was bewildered. I could not think how it came to be there. I put it in my pocket and went to find the head groom.

I said: “Who used the trap last?”

He scratched his head. “Afore you, Miss Tressidor?” he asked.

“Yes, before me.”

“Well, I don’t know as anyone … unless it was Jamie McGill.”

“Yes, he did. I saw him on the moor.”

“So he would have been the last, I’d reckon.”

“Did Mrs. Landower ever travel in it?”

“Mrs. Landower? Her have been away … and have been this past week or so.”

“Yes, I know. But I wondered if someone gave her a lift.”

“Not as I know of.”

“All right,” I said. I put my hand in my pocket. The prongs of the comb stuck in my fingers. I felt sick.

I went to my bedroom and took out the comb. I could see her taking it from her hair and looking at it.

“I wear it often … but not always,” she had said.

How had it come to be in the trap?

I decided to call on Jamie.

I saw him in the garden as I approached. He was among the hives and the bees were buzzing round him.

I called out to him.

“Good day, Miss Tressidor.”

“Are you busy?”

“No. Go into the house. I’ll be with you in a moment.”

I went in and sat down and within a few minutes he came in.

“Jamie,” I said, “when did you last use the trap?”

He looked puzzled and I went on: “I know you had it the day we met on the moors. But when did you before that, and did you give Mrs. Landower a lift?”

“Mrs. Landower? I heard she’d gone away.”

“I wondered because I found this in the trap.”

“What is it?”

“It’s her comb. It’s strange that it should be there. I wondered if you gave her a lift somewhere … before she went away.”

“A lift?” he repeated.

He looked strange. He was staring straight ahead of him.

I said: “Are you all right, Jamie?”

He just went on staring ahead and repeated: “A lift?”

“Jamie, sit down. What is the matter? Do you know how Mrs. Landower’s comb could come to be in the trap?”

“You know, don’t you, Miss Tressidor?” he said.

“Know what?”

He had a glazed look on his face which gave him an odd expression which I had never seen before. He was like a different person.

“Jamie,” I said, “you look strange … not yourself … what is it?”

He leaned across the table and repeated: “You know.”

“I know what?”

“You know this isn’t Jamie.”

“What do you mean?”

But understanding dawned on me and I felt my heart miss a beat and then begin to hammer in my chest.

I said: “You’re … Donald.”

A sly look came into his face. I had never seen Jamie look like that.

“Yes,” he said, “I’m Donald.”

I stood up in alarm. All my senses were warning me to get away … quickly. I felt: This man is mad. Jamie was right. He is a danger.

“Where is … Jamie?” I stammered.

“Jamie has gone.”

“But where … where? I came to see Jamie.”

I moved backwards. From the corner of my eye I measured the distance to the door.

“I’ll come back … when Jamie’s here. I came to see him. Will you tell him I called?”

He just repeated: “You know, don’t you?”

“I knew that Donald came.”

“You know she’s dead. You know where she is. She’s down the mine shaft. That’s where she is. I killed her. I hit her on the head.” He started to laugh and took a step towards the fireplace. Hanging beside it were a brass poker and bellows. He took the poker and looked at it. “I killed her with this,” he said. “I hit her on the head and then I took the trap and drove with her to the mine. There was no one about so I pushed her down.”

“You can’t mean this. You’ve only just arrived.”

“I’ve been coming here … off and on … for some time now.”

He laid down the poker. “I did it with Effie and I did it with her. Effie drove me mad. She went on and on. She ought not to have married me. She would have been better off if she’d married Jack Sparrow. He got on, he did. It would have been a different life with him. I let her go on and on and then I couldn’t stand any more …

“And Mrs. Landower … She was too nosey … She pried. She went to Edinburgh and found out things … She was going to talk. Soon it would have been all over the place. It wasn’t fair for Jamie. Jamie liked it here … He’d worked hard to get it as he wanted. He wanted it to stay as it was … and she was going to stop it.”

“Did Jamie tell you all this?”

“Jamie tells me everything. I know Jamie … and Jamie knows me. We’re different, but we are one …”

“I know you are twin brothers, but you haven’t seen each other for years. I must go now. I’ll come back later and see Jamie.”

“You know now … don’t you?”

“I know what you have told me.”

“I’ve told you about her … and you’ve come here with that comb. It was found in the trap. I was careless, wasn’t I … not to have seen it. It gave it away. No one would ever have known. They would have thought she was playing a game. She’d tried it once before.”

“I must go …”

He was before me and he had his back to the door.

“But you know,” he said. “She had to go because she knew … and now you know.”

“I don’t believe a word of this. I don’t see how you can be aware of all this. You don’t live here.”

He took a step towards me and I noticed afresh the strange glitter in his eyes.

“I’ve got to save all this … for Jamie,” he said. “Jamie is happy here. You’re going to make trouble for Jamie.”

“I would never make trouble for Jamie.”

“You came here with that comb. You came to accuse Jamie of killing her. Jamie wouldn’t hurt a moth. Jamie loves all living creatures. Jamie wouldn’t have touched her, no matter what she’d done. It had to be Donald. And now … there’s you.”

He was quite close to me. I was in the presence of a madman. I could already feel his hands about my throat.

I tried to speak firmly: “I’m going now.”

“You’ll have to go down the shaft with her … with that nosey woman who spoiled everything with her prying ways. You shouldn’t have come here accusing Jamie …”

I could see his hands. They looked thick and strong. I tried to cry out but my voice was hardly above a whisper and it would be little short of a miracle if anyone was near enough to hear me.

I felt his hands on my throat.

I thought: This can’t be happening. Why … ? What does it all mean?

His face puckered suddenly. “Miss Tressidor was good to Jamie,” he said. “Miss Mary and Miss Caroline … Nobody was as good to Jamie as Miss Caroline and Miss Mary.”

And then in a blinding flash of clarity, I knew. I saw him clearly as he had been in the gardens with the bees buzzing round him and I cried: “Jamie. You’re Jamie.”

He dropped his hands and stared at me.

“I know you’re Jamie,” I said.

“No … no. I’m Donald.”

“No, Jamie, the bees have told me.”

He looked startled.

“They’ve told you.”

“Yes, Jamie, the bees have told me. You’re Jamie, aren’t you? There is no Donald. There never was a Donald. There is only one of you.”

His face crumpled suddenly. He looked gentle and helpless.

“Jamie, Jamie,” I cried. “I want to help you. I know I can.”

He looked at me in a dazed fashion. “So it was the bees … they told you.”

He sat down at the table and put his hands over his face. He spoke quietly. “It’s all clear now. There is only one of us. Donald James McGill. But sometimes it seems to me that there are two of us. Jamie that was the real self … and Donald … he was the other. He did wicked things … and Jamie hated it. There were two of us in a way … but in the same body.”

“I think I understand. One part of you killed those little animals whom the other part loved. The impulse came over you suddenly to kill … and you felt that was not really you, for you were Jamie, quiet, gentle Jamie, wanting to live in peace with the world.”

“I loved Effie,” he said slowly, “but she went on and on making me feel that I ought never to have married her, reminding me that I couldn’t give her the things that she wanted. And then … one night when she was going on and on … it was too much. I picked up the poker and hit her. We were standing at the top of the stairs and she fell. I told myself she tripped … but I knew I’d done it. Then it seemed it was Donald and they brought in Not Proven … and there was a chance to get away.”

“I understand, Jamie. I understand now.”

“And Mrs. Landower … I always hated her. She wanted to spoil everything … not only for me but for everyone else. She was always asking questions and going on and on. She’s a natural spoiler. And then she went to Edinburgh and she’d gone on asking questions there and she’d seen it in the papers. Then she came to see me and she said she thought I ought to tell the whole story. She said it wasn’t right to have secrets … So … I took the poker and I hit her … just like I’d hit Effie. And then I took her out in the trap and put her down the mine shaft.”

“Oh, Jamie,” I said. I was shivering.

“It’s the end, I know,” he said. “And you know now … so the only thing I can do if I want to live in peace is to send you with her.”

“But you couldn’t do that, Jamie,” I said. “Jamie is back now.

Jamie would never do it. Donald has gone … and now that you’ve told me, Donald will go forever.”

He covered his face with his hands. “What will become of me?” he asked.

“I think you’ll go away from here. You’re sick, I think. It isn’t the same … if you’re sick you’re not to blame.”

“And Lion and Tiger and the bees … what would become of them?”

“There’d be someone to take care of them.”

“I couldn’t hurt you, Miss Tressidor. No matter what …”

“I know. As soon as I knew that, I knew who you really were. And you were out there with the bees when I came. Only Jamie could have stood among them. They wouldn’t have allowed anyone else to go unprotected into their midst.”

“What can I do, Miss Tressidor?”

Again he covered his face with his hands. Lionheart came up to him and leaped onto the table. He began to lick his face, and Tiger came and rubbed himself against his legs.

“Oh, Jamie,” I said. “My poor, poor Jamie.”

I went to the door. There was no one there. I stood there for ten minutes before I heard someone in the road.

It was one of the grooms from Landower.

I called: “Will you ask Mr. Landower to come to the lodge immediately. Tell him he is wanted … desperately.”

When Paul came I clung to him. I was a little incoherent as I tried to tell him what had happened.

He put his arms round me and said: “Don’t be afraid. Don’t be afraid any more.”

Then we went into the lodge together.