Killer Twist (Ghostwriter Mystery 1) Read online

Epilogue

  Lillian Johnson looked radiant as she buzzed her chair through the fashionable crowd that had gathered at a trendy inner-city gallery for the first legitimate showing of her abstract art. By now the story of Heather Jackson’s elaborate fraud had hit all the headlines, quite sensationally so, with no mention of Beatrice Musgrave, Roxy noticed. The police had not released the information publicly, and she wasn’t about to spill the beans, either. That was no longer important to the ghostwriter, and it would do Beattie’s memory no service either. The socialite’s daughter had turned out to be a sociopath, and if she knew Beattie the way she believed she did, that was not something the elderly matron would have wanted publicized. If only for the sake of William and Fabian. Whether they knew the full story, she did not know, but she did note that they weren’t here tonight.

  As for Lillian Johnson? She had become a celebrity in her own right and while her tale of being hidden away by an evil sister for years was fabulous media fodder, it was her artwork that really inspired people. Roxy was thrilled by the twitters of praise that were now emanating around her.

  She was standing to one side, a glass of champagne in hand and beside her were Max, Oliver and the police detective Gilda. ‘Heather Jackson was wrong,’ Roxy told them with a sad smile, ‘There’s nothing off-putting about Lillian at all.’

  ‘Oh she was just justifying her own greed,’ Gilda said. ‘But she certainly underestimated her sister’s mind. She might not be able to talk very well but she’s as switched on as the rest of us. And she definitely underestimated Lillian’s strength. I gotta tell you, Roxy, if she hadn’t come along when she did and started ramming that maniacal sister of hers, you mightn’t be with us today.’

  ‘I’m well aware of that and still working through it, thanks very much for reminding me,’ Roxy replied with a shiver and a smile. ‘I gather poor Lilly knew nothing about her sister and niece’s murdering spree? Or the fact that she was even being duped?’

  ‘Not a thing. They restricted her contact with the outside world and monitored what she watched on TV and read in the papers. You’re just lucky Lillian was awake when you broke in. She says she heard the whole thing and that’s why she came to your rescue. Actually I think she thought you were the maniac until Sally started talking. And then of course when she saw her sister with the gun ... Deep down she knew they were bad eggs, but she had no idea of the extent of it.’

  ‘So how did she get out? I gather the doors were locked?’

  ‘The adjoining bathroom door was locked but not the main bedroom door. It seems they missed that one.’

  ‘But didn’t she wonder why they locked her away, why she wasn’t allowed out?’

  ‘Oh but she was! They took her on occasional excursions I believe. They just did it incognito, always using vans from the delivery entrance, and going to out of the way places. She thought nothing of it. As long as she was left alone with her paints, she was content. Apparently she was often asked to paint people she didn’t know or like, as a “favor” to her sister, but she never really thought anything of it. Had no idea her sister was passing them off as her own. If you look at the artworks at the house, all the signatures have been removed. She was none the wiser. I gather, though, that Lilly didn’t much like her sister and niece but it seems she trusted them both implicitly. That’s why she moved in with them after her parents died. By the way, that was the only murder you got wrong.’

  Roxy looked up from her glass. ‘Oh?’

  ‘Yeah. The Johnson’s did die in a legitimate car crash, from a brand of brakes that were known to be faulty. That’s where Heather got the idea for Margarita’s death. She gave her the same model vehicle to use, took out the working brakes, put in the faulty brand and waited for the accident to happen.’

  ‘Bloody lucky it happened on a lonely stretch of road!’

  ‘Heather Jackson was one of the luckiest con artists I have ever met,’ Gilda agreed. ‘It’s a miracle no one twigged until now.’

  ‘Until nosy Roxy Parker, you mean,’ said Oliver and they all drank to that.

  Roxy ignored them and asked, ‘What about the midwife?’

  ‘That was her first little test of the brakes. It didn’t quite work, though, Agnetha was just maimed. Heather had to finish the job, of course. Agnetha was threatening to tell all. It seems she’d been blackmailing both Beatrice and Heather for years, and that’s partly why Beattie decided to tell the truth once and for all. Better to make a clean breast of it.’

  ‘So the designer clothes she was wearing?’

  ‘A gift from Heather, I suspect, to shut her up. When that didn’t work, we believe Heather killed her but not before slicing the extra fingers off in the hope of hiding the old midwife’s identity.’

  Max laughed then. ‘Idiot! If only she’d known that would be the one thing that would catch Roxy Parker’s attention.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Oliver said. ‘If she’d just let old Agnetha drown no one would have noticed. She would have been just another sad Sydney statistic. Silly woman.’

  ‘So what about Beatrice?’ Roxy continued, desperate to get the facts. It had been a few weeks since that dreadful night, but it was her first chance to properly catch up with the policewoman. Roxy had been preoccupied with ticking off a few freelance articles and licking her wounds, while Gilda had been tied up with the investigation.

  She took a long sip of her champagne and then said, ‘Well it seems your first interview with Heather for Glossy magazine sped that murder up a bit.’

  ‘How do you mean?’

  ‘Sally tells us—and thank God for her, Heather has been characteristically tight-lipped—that during your interview at Lockies Cafe, Heather overheard you say Beatrice Musgrave was about to reveal something big.’

  ‘Aye!’ chirped Lockie suddenly appearing from behind them. After quick introductions were made all around he said, ‘Remember, Roxy? Heather was on the phone and I asked you to a shindig the following Monday.’

  ‘And I said no because one of my clients was about to reveal something BIG. Damn it. If only I’d kept my big mouth shut.’

  Max punched her gently on the shoulder. ‘Hey, come on, you weren’t to know Heather had set the whole thing up to see what you knew.’

  Roxy sighed. ‘Yeah, I just thought she wanted to be interviewed by the great Roxy Parker.’ She shook her head angrily. ‘So Heather panics, realizing she’s running out of time, and races over there to throw poor Beattie off her balcony.’

  ‘Charming isn’t she?’ That was Oliver. ‘Come on guys, enough of the gore, let’s go and get some tucker, I’m starved.’

  ‘Any chocolate?’ Gilda chirped and Roxy allowed herself to laugh for the first time in a long while as they zigzagged through the crowd and past dozens of Lillian’s wonderful, bright portraits, towards a table set up with a range of hors d’oeuvres. They each helped themselves and then returned to their quiet corner.

  ‘So what about that dodgy grandson, Fabian?’ Max wanted to know before stuffing an elaborate prosciutto and asparagus concoction into his mouth.

  ‘Oh he’s pretty harmless,’ Gilda replied and then turning to Roxy, said, ‘Of course you could still press assault charges on the thuggish brother-in-law.’

  Roxy shook her head. ‘No I don’t think so. That lot have got problems of their own. Good riddance, I say. And what about the lawyer, Ronald Featherby?’

  ‘He’s pulled the client confidentiality card on us. Not saying very much at all.’

  ‘Sneaky bastard.’

  ‘Yeah well, in any case I figure he knew of Beattie’s past but had zip to do with Agnetha’s murder. Not really his style. We’re pretty confident it was all Heather’s doing, with a little help from Jamie and Sally-Anne.’

  Suddenly the crowd began to part and Roxy spotted Lillian being wheeled towards them. An enormous smile enveloped her face and Roxy felt as if she was seeing the portrait, ‘Not Drowning, Waving’ in the flesh this time: happy, content, surprisingly self-assured.
When she was directly in front of Roxy she stopped and flung one hand, her only working hand, towards her. Roxy took it warmly in her own. A woman stepped out from behind her and also held out her hand.

  ‘I’m Petra, Lillian’s new assistant and we’d both like to say a warm thank you for everything that you’ve done.’

  ‘It was nothing at all,’ Roxy insisted and then, turning to Lillian asked, ‘Are you going to be okay?’

  Lillian’s eyes lit up and she bobbed her head several times. ‘Y-ee-es,’ she said happily.

  The assistant added, ‘Lilly would like me to tell you that, as a special thank you present, she would love to paint your portrait some time. That is if you’re available.’

  Roxy couldn’t contain her delight. ‘I would love to! Thank you!’

  Later, when Lilly had left, Lockie grabbed Roxy’s arm. ‘You have to let me come and watch! You have to!’

  ‘Whoa, down boy!’ She smiled. ‘Of course you can come. I couldn’t think of a better person to keep me company.’

  And then Roxy took a long, slow sip of her champagne. It wasn’t her favorite, Merlot, but tonight it would do the job. She raised her glass into the air.

  ‘This one’s for you, Beattie Musgrave,’ she said softly as the crowd swelled around her again.