meridian_rose (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
meridian_rose) wrote2016-04-09 07:54 pm
meridian_rose) wrote2016-04-09 07:54 pm
Indian Summers fic: Arsenic and All Lies
Title: Arsenic and All Lies
Fandom: Indian Summers
Pairing/Characters: Charlie Havistock, Alice Whelan-Havistock, Ralph Whelan, Aafrin Dalal, Cynthia Coffin, Superintendent Rowntree
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 3k approx
Prompt: For the![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
100_tales #098 Writer's Choice: Deceit
Summary: A reverse chronology fic; someone laced Charlie Havistock's drink with arsenic and every person at the table had a motive. They all hold guilty secrets: adultery, betrayal, conspiracy, to name a few. The truth can only be found by looking past those motives, back to the moment the decision was made.
Content Notes: No standard warnings apply. Author Notes follow at end of fic
Also @ AO3
----SIX----
"I did it," Aafrin said, seeing no other choice. It didn't matter it was a lie. If he could save Alice, he would.
Superintendent Rowntree nodded. "When you were searched, we found a cyanide pill in your inside pocket. Why not use that? Why arsenic?"
Aafrin shrugged. "Cyanide is an obvious death," he suggested, thinking of the tell-tale foaming of the mouth it resulted in. "Arsenic less so."
"So the cyanide was for you? In case you were caught."
"Yes." That was true enough, though not for the reasons Rowntree would think.
"Why didn't you take it?"
Aafrin shrugged again. "I thought I was merely being questioned as a witness."
"Cool as a cucumber, aren't you," Rowntree observed. "So it was your idea, and not Mrs Havistock's?"
Aafrin nodded. "She didn't even know my plan. It was I who wanted him dead."
----FIVE----
The stifling heat of the interview room did nothing to stop Alice trembling. Sweat gathered in her hair, between her breasts, beneath her armpits, but she felt cold at her core. She fought nausea, her heart hammering in her chest, the world off-kilter, unreal.
"Mrs Havistock," Rowntree said again, his patience strained almost to the limit. "The arsenic powder was found in your handbag."
"I don't know how it got there." She wished Ralph was here with her, but he was a suspect too, and being held in another room for his own interrogation.
"Nor how it ended up in your husband's drink?"
"No." She clung to that word, she kept saying it over and over, but no-one would believe her. Charlie had made sure of that, calling her competence into question at every turn. She was almost beginning to believe it herself, that somehow she had obtained the poison, carried it to the club, sprinkled it into Charlie's whisky.
"Cynthia Coffin herself poured the drinks," the superintendent said. "You and your brother were at the table with your husband. Aafrin Dalal joined you shortly afterwards. There are only four suspects here, Mrs Havistock, and you are the one with the arsenic found on your person."
She shook her head. "No. I did not do this."
Rowntree leaned back in his seat. "If you were the one who poisoned your husband, I can only believe it must have been at the behest of someone else. Your brother, Ralph Whelan, perhaps. If you were coerced, Mrs Havistock, there is the possibility of leniency."
"No! It wasn't Ralph!" He'd spoken often of a desire to harm Charlie, but poison wasn't a weapon she imagined Ralph using, and he'd surely not have carried out the deed while she was there to witness it.
"How can you be certain? I understand that Mr Whelan has been facing financial difficulties, and that Mr Havistock has been contributing to the upkeep of the household. If you were widowed, you would inherit, and I'm sure you would give your brother control of the finances."
Alice shook her head again, but it was true. Until Percy came of age she was the one who stood most to gain by Charlie's death. She, and, by extension, Ralph.
"What about this Dalal chap?"
That threw her. "What about him?"
Rowntree tipped his head. "There are rumours," he said delicately.
"How dare you," she said, even though it was true that she'd slept with Aafrin Dalal, had committed adultery more times than she cared to count. No doubt Cynthia had been quick to lay the blame at his feet. Aafrin though would never risk letting her take the blame by hiding the evidence on her. Nor had he never been possessive of her – rather they spent as much time pushing each other away as they did giving in to their passions. She didn't think he could be moved to commit murder, even on her behalf.
"Mrs Havistock, what other explanation is there? Either Ralph Whelan or Aafrin Dalal committed this act and then accidently or deliberately implicated you by leaving you in possession of the evidence, or you colluded with them. Unless you are going to insist on convincing me that you planned and carried out this cold-blooded act alone and of your own free will." Rowntree steepled his fingers. "Do you want to ever see your son again?"
Alice stared at her lap, wringing her hands. She let out a sob.
----FOUR----
"Not Ralph," Cynthia said, blowing smoke into the air. "Poison's not his style anyway. He wanted Charlie Havistock dead, he'd be dead. Strangled, or had his throat cut. No, not my Ralph."
"You have another suspect?" The officer glanced behind Cynthia at the bar. "You poured the drinks."
Cynthia glared at him. She was a little miffed that the superintendent had sent a lackey to interview her rather than showing up in person. "I don't poison the customers. Bad for business. Bad business all round, this happening in my club. You want a suspect? Dalal. He was at that table with them, had every opportunity to slip something in Mr Havistock's drink. Slippery bugger, but they all are, aren't they?"
"You believe Mr Dalal is the poisoner?"
Cynthia took another drag of her cigarette. "You didn't hear it from me," she said, "but the way he stares at Alice Havistock. It's obscene. He's obsessed with her. Probably thinks he's in love. Ha! As if he could be a suitable match for Alice even if she weren't already married to a proper English gentleman."
"Does Mrs Havistock encourage this attention?"
Cynthia flicked ash into the ashtray at her elbow. "I couldn't say. I'm not one to gossip," she said. "But he stares at her like she's the sun in the sky and no-one seems to notice."
----THREE----
"Just a few questions, if you're up to it," the officer said.
"Of course." Charlie forced his eyes fully open. "Where is my wife?"
The officer cleared his throat, taking a seat at the side of the bed. "We'll come to that, sir. We're taking statements, gathering evidence. You yourself suspected foul play, when you were taken ill."
Charlie nodded. "I can't explain it. It was a feeling, that this was serious. I — I honestly thought I was dying."
The officer nodded. "The doctor said you'll be all right," he soothed. "Prompt treatment, that's the thing. If you'd gone home for a lie-down, blaming the local food, it'd be different, but they washed the worst of it out."
"It was terrible."
"I'm sure, but it saved your life. Tests on the stomach contents have confirmed the presence of arsenic. You were lucky."
Charlie swallowed. "Someone tried to kill me. I don't feel very lucky."
The officer studied his notebook. "If we just get through this, sir, I can let you get some rest. I know it's difficult, but is there any other reason that you suspected you'd been poisoned? Aside from the symptoms, which could have been any number of illnesses, and this, er, feeling? Any reason someone might have wanted to kill you?"
Charlie looked away. "You suspect Alice. That's why no-one will let me see her."
"I'm afraid we always suspect the spouse," the officer said, as gently as he could. "They are usually the ones with the most obvious motives and opportunities."
Charlie sighed. "I doubt she has the mental acuity to plot a murder. Easily confused, you know. Clumsy, sometimes. Distracted, suggestible. Still…"
"Sir?"
There was a pregnant pause. "She didn't mean it, I'm sure."
"But?"
Charlie sighed again. "We were having a disagreement, before we went out to lunch. She's been withdrawn and distant recently. I thought it would be good for her to get out a bit more. She disagreed. She said that I was, er, bullying her. She said — she said she wished I was dead."
The officer's face was carefully blank. "You didn't take her seriously?"
"No. We all say things we don't mean."
A note was made. "Do you have a will, sir?"
Charlie nodded. "Everything goes to Alice. I trust her to provide for our son."
The officer checked his notes. "Percy? Your stepson?"
"He's not my stepson. He's my child. I suppose it's no use keeping it a secret now." Charlie gave a bitter smile. "Alice left me, some years ago. She claimed she needed some time away from England. Away from me. She brought Percy to India with her to stay with her brother, and told everyone here I was dead. I demanded she come home, of course. When she did, I tried to be a better husband…"
Charlie trailed off, sniffed. "I'm sorry."
"Take your time," the officer said.
After a moment, Charlie went on, "I agreed to come to India. I thought it might make her happy. The climate. Being close to her brother. I took a job here and I even allowed her to tell another lie, lest her first be exposed. We've been telling people we met in Bombay and wed shortly afterwards, but Alice has been my darling wife since she was seventeen."
This required more note taking. "Who knows the truth?"
"Ralph Whelan and his wife, Madeline. You would have to ask Alice if there's anyone else. I kept it secret, as she requested."
The officer nodded grimly. "You've been very patient with her. What reason would she have to kill you?"
Charlie considered. "She knows I will not let her take my child away again, so divorce is out of the question. I had not thought she would go to such extremes, however. Of course her brother…"
"Ralph Whelan. What about him?"
"If Alice inherits my estate, it will be Ralph who has control of it," Charlie said. "He has her wrapped around his finger. She would do anything for him."
"Even kill?"
Charlie shrugged. "He is having some financial difficulty. I have been helping out. That's what one does, for family. But he is a proud man and he dislikes accepting my assistance."
"Enough to want you dead?"
"I couldn't say. But I would rather believe it of him than of my wife."
The officer turned another page. "Anyone else who might want to hurt you?"
"I suppose one makes enemies," Charlie said wryly. "But until today I hadn't thought on it. I suppose…"
"Yes?"
"I hardly like to think of it, but there were rumours that when Alice was in India previously, she may have taken a lover." Charlie closed his eyes briefly. "I've tried to keep an eye on her, but if she's cheating on me then of course she and her paramour would like to have me out of the way."
The officer shook his head in disgust. "There's someone you suspect?"
"Aafrin Dalal," Charlie said, choking out the words. "But he's Ralph's golden boy. Saved Ralphie's life, so he can do no wrong."
"Don't upset yourself, sir," the officer said. "We'll get to the bottom of this."
Charlie shifted position, winced. "Please, be gentle with Alice. I can't believe she had any part in this, not unless she was coerced. Or compelled; she is easily led. I blame myself for not taking a firmer hand."
The officer gave him a sympathetic look. "Just one more thing, sir. Walk me through the events of today, from the time you woke up until you were taken ill."
----TWO----
"Mrs S – oh, sorry, Mrs C," Charlie said, grinning. He leaned on the bar, his free hand around Alice's waist. Alice placed her handbag on the bar top and regarded Cynthia with a fixed smile.
Cynthia gave an equally false smile. "What I can get for you? Oh, Ralph, good to see you."
Ralph joined them, nodded, staring at Charlie and Alice. "Cynthia."
"Brandy," Charlie said. "Three?"
"I'd rather have whisky," Alice said tightly.
"Me too," Ralph said before Charlie could argue with Alice.
"Three whiskies then," Charlie said.
Cynthia poured the drinks.
"Grab those would you," Charlie said in the vague direction of both Alice and Ralph. Alice picked up her handbag and one glass while Ralph took the other two. Charlie remained at the bar, taking out some cash to pay for the drinks.
A moment later they were all seated at a nearby table. Ralph sat at one side, Charlie facing him, with Alice between them.
"Isn't that Dalal?" Charlie asked. Alice and Ralph both looked over to see Dalal heading over to them with a look of concern.
"Mr Whelan," Dalal said. "There is a message, from Colonel Madden. He sends his regrets that he will be unavoidably late for your meeting. He hopes to be here by this evening and hopes you can reschedule for tomorrow."
Ralph sighed. "He's always unavoidably delayed by something," he said. "Fine, it's fine. Sit down, Dalal."
Dalal obeyed, taking the seat between Ralph and Charlie. Ralph and Dalal discussed business some more. Charlie sipped at his drink, eyeing Alice. She was watching Dalal, one hand toying with her necklace.
Ralph made a joke. He laughed at it loudly. Dalal made a polite noise of amusement. Alice frowned, not having heard a word.
"Elephant, you see," Ralph said, and looked to Charlie to see why he didn't find it amusing. "Charlie?"
Charlie was staring at the table, taking rapid, shallow breaths. Alice finally stopped looking at Dalal to see why Ralph sounded worried.
"Throat's dry," Charlie said, loosening his cravat.
"Sir?" Dalal asked. "I'll get some water."
Charlie got to his feet, swaying. "I just need some air."
"Charlie." Alice stood as did Ralph. It was Ralph who caught Charlie when he doubled over in pain, both of them ending up on their knees.
Cynthia came over. "What's going on? Oh, lovely," she groused when Charlie vomited onto her recently scrubbed floor..
"Mr Havistock is unwell," Dalal offered.
"I would never have guessed," Cynthia snapped at him.
"Poison," Charlie croaked and everyone froze.
Cynthia shook her head and pointed an accusing finger as if her willpower could alter the facts. "Not in my club," she said, outraged.
"Not now, Cynthia," Ralph yelled. He still had one arm wrapped around Charlie's shoulders. "Fetch a doctor!"
----ONE----
"Come here." Charlie beckoned and Alice gave a sigh before she obediently moved to stand in front of him. She stared straight ahead at the bedroom window as he unbuttoned and rebuttoned her dress. There had been nothing wrong with the buttons, of course.
"That's better," he said, smoothing the material over her shoulders. "Can't have you wandering around in such a muddle. An unkempt wife reflects badly on her husband."
"We can't have that," Alice said, but there was sarcasm in her tone that made his hackles rise.
He took her hand, squeezed at her fingers until it was almost painful, before lifting her hand to he could press a kiss to her knuckles. "Don't you wish you were a better wife?"
She swallowed and met his challenge. "I wish you were dead," she said matter-of-factly.
Charlie released her abruptly. Where had this recent rebellious streak come from? Not Ralph, the man was almost as pathetic as his sister.
No, it seemed that Charlie's suspicions were right; Alice had taken Dalal as a lover and thought he might take her from Charlie. That could not be allowed. She was his, Charlie vowed, and if he couldn't have her, then no-one would.
"I forgive you," he said, choosing his words carefully, speaking loud enough for any servants nearby to hear. "You say such terrible things but I know you do not mean them."
She nodded. "Of course. It was just a joke. You like jokes, don't you?" She left the room as fast as she could manage without breaking into a run.
Charlie sat down on the edge of the bed and gave a long-suffering sigh. The idea had come to him a while back, but he'd hoped never to have cause to use it.
Arsenic was pitifully easy to obtain — in a well-stocked household like this one there was usually some kept for poisoning vermin. Enough of the white powder and he'd die, and while there was some pleasure to be had at the thought of Alice being hanged on his account, Charlie wasn't quite ready to go to such an extreme.
Just a little though, enough to provide evidence of the crime, taken with something to ensure he vomited before too much arsenic could be absorbed, that was another matter. It wouldn't be pleasant, but it would be incontrovertible proof that someone had tried to kill him.
He would insist Alice was being framed or had been coerced; if that failed, he would publicly forgive Alice, beg for clemency for her. Whisk her away back to England if necessary; Ralph would have to help him if it meant sparing Alice jail. She would never dare rebel against him again, not with the threat of execution always shadowing her if he should turn up dead or injured.
Or maybe Ralph would take the blame, that would be interesting. Alice would be devastated. Putty in his hands.
Or Dalal might fall on his sword, and Alice would have to live with the knowledge she'd destroyed his life. That ought to stop her straying in future.
It took only a second to drop the incriminating twist of paper into Alice's handbag. The mixture he'd prepared in advance was wrapped in a newspaper clipping and went into his trouser pocket. If he didn't manage to dispose of it after lacing his own drink, and it was found on his person, a crumpled clipping of the sports section wasn't likely to arouse suspicion.
Charlie straightened his cravat, checked his watch. "Muddle, we'll be late for lunch at the club," he called.
Alice reappeared with Sumitra behind her, the servant girl carrying Percy on her hip. Alice didn't meet Charlie's gaze as she picked up a shawl and her handbag.
Charlie kissed Percy's hair. "Be a good boy," he said and held out his hand to Alice. "Come along, my darling."
Notes: This is my second ever reverse chronology fic. You need a very specific idea to make these type of stories work well, working backwards through the scenes to what is often a twist at the end (start!). I hope this one worked for you.
The title is a play on the film/play title "Arsenic and Old Lace".
Fandom: Indian Summers
Pairing/Characters: Charlie Havistock, Alice Whelan-Havistock, Ralph Whelan, Aafrin Dalal, Cynthia Coffin, Superintendent Rowntree
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 3k approx
Prompt: For the
100_tales #098 Writer's Choice: DeceitSummary: A reverse chronology fic; someone laced Charlie Havistock's drink with arsenic and every person at the table had a motive. They all hold guilty secrets: adultery, betrayal, conspiracy, to name a few. The truth can only be found by looking past those motives, back to the moment the decision was made.
Content Notes: No standard warnings apply. Author Notes follow at end of fic
Also @ AO3
----SIX----
"I did it," Aafrin said, seeing no other choice. It didn't matter it was a lie. If he could save Alice, he would.
Superintendent Rowntree nodded. "When you were searched, we found a cyanide pill in your inside pocket. Why not use that? Why arsenic?"
Aafrin shrugged. "Cyanide is an obvious death," he suggested, thinking of the tell-tale foaming of the mouth it resulted in. "Arsenic less so."
"So the cyanide was for you? In case you were caught."
"Yes." That was true enough, though not for the reasons Rowntree would think.
"Why didn't you take it?"
Aafrin shrugged again. "I thought I was merely being questioned as a witness."
"Cool as a cucumber, aren't you," Rowntree observed. "So it was your idea, and not Mrs Havistock's?"
Aafrin nodded. "She didn't even know my plan. It was I who wanted him dead."
----FIVE----
The stifling heat of the interview room did nothing to stop Alice trembling. Sweat gathered in her hair, between her breasts, beneath her armpits, but she felt cold at her core. She fought nausea, her heart hammering in her chest, the world off-kilter, unreal.
"Mrs Havistock," Rowntree said again, his patience strained almost to the limit. "The arsenic powder was found in your handbag."
"I don't know how it got there." She wished Ralph was here with her, but he was a suspect too, and being held in another room for his own interrogation.
"Nor how it ended up in your husband's drink?"
"No." She clung to that word, she kept saying it over and over, but no-one would believe her. Charlie had made sure of that, calling her competence into question at every turn. She was almost beginning to believe it herself, that somehow she had obtained the poison, carried it to the club, sprinkled it into Charlie's whisky.
"Cynthia Coffin herself poured the drinks," the superintendent said. "You and your brother were at the table with your husband. Aafrin Dalal joined you shortly afterwards. There are only four suspects here, Mrs Havistock, and you are the one with the arsenic found on your person."
She shook her head. "No. I did not do this."
Rowntree leaned back in his seat. "If you were the one who poisoned your husband, I can only believe it must have been at the behest of someone else. Your brother, Ralph Whelan, perhaps. If you were coerced, Mrs Havistock, there is the possibility of leniency."
"No! It wasn't Ralph!" He'd spoken often of a desire to harm Charlie, but poison wasn't a weapon she imagined Ralph using, and he'd surely not have carried out the deed while she was there to witness it.
"How can you be certain? I understand that Mr Whelan has been facing financial difficulties, and that Mr Havistock has been contributing to the upkeep of the household. If you were widowed, you would inherit, and I'm sure you would give your brother control of the finances."
Alice shook her head again, but it was true. Until Percy came of age she was the one who stood most to gain by Charlie's death. She, and, by extension, Ralph.
"What about this Dalal chap?"
That threw her. "What about him?"
Rowntree tipped his head. "There are rumours," he said delicately.
"How dare you," she said, even though it was true that she'd slept with Aafrin Dalal, had committed adultery more times than she cared to count. No doubt Cynthia had been quick to lay the blame at his feet. Aafrin though would never risk letting her take the blame by hiding the evidence on her. Nor had he never been possessive of her – rather they spent as much time pushing each other away as they did giving in to their passions. She didn't think he could be moved to commit murder, even on her behalf.
"Mrs Havistock, what other explanation is there? Either Ralph Whelan or Aafrin Dalal committed this act and then accidently or deliberately implicated you by leaving you in possession of the evidence, or you colluded with them. Unless you are going to insist on convincing me that you planned and carried out this cold-blooded act alone and of your own free will." Rowntree steepled his fingers. "Do you want to ever see your son again?"
Alice stared at her lap, wringing her hands. She let out a sob.
----FOUR----
"Not Ralph," Cynthia said, blowing smoke into the air. "Poison's not his style anyway. He wanted Charlie Havistock dead, he'd be dead. Strangled, or had his throat cut. No, not my Ralph."
"You have another suspect?" The officer glanced behind Cynthia at the bar. "You poured the drinks."
Cynthia glared at him. She was a little miffed that the superintendent had sent a lackey to interview her rather than showing up in person. "I don't poison the customers. Bad for business. Bad business all round, this happening in my club. You want a suspect? Dalal. He was at that table with them, had every opportunity to slip something in Mr Havistock's drink. Slippery bugger, but they all are, aren't they?"
"You believe Mr Dalal is the poisoner?"
Cynthia took another drag of her cigarette. "You didn't hear it from me," she said, "but the way he stares at Alice Havistock. It's obscene. He's obsessed with her. Probably thinks he's in love. Ha! As if he could be a suitable match for Alice even if she weren't already married to a proper English gentleman."
"Does Mrs Havistock encourage this attention?"
Cynthia flicked ash into the ashtray at her elbow. "I couldn't say. I'm not one to gossip," she said. "But he stares at her like she's the sun in the sky and no-one seems to notice."
----THREE----
"Just a few questions, if you're up to it," the officer said.
"Of course." Charlie forced his eyes fully open. "Where is my wife?"
The officer cleared his throat, taking a seat at the side of the bed. "We'll come to that, sir. We're taking statements, gathering evidence. You yourself suspected foul play, when you were taken ill."
Charlie nodded. "I can't explain it. It was a feeling, that this was serious. I — I honestly thought I was dying."
The officer nodded. "The doctor said you'll be all right," he soothed. "Prompt treatment, that's the thing. If you'd gone home for a lie-down, blaming the local food, it'd be different, but they washed the worst of it out."
"It was terrible."
"I'm sure, but it saved your life. Tests on the stomach contents have confirmed the presence of arsenic. You were lucky."
Charlie swallowed. "Someone tried to kill me. I don't feel very lucky."
The officer studied his notebook. "If we just get through this, sir, I can let you get some rest. I know it's difficult, but is there any other reason that you suspected you'd been poisoned? Aside from the symptoms, which could have been any number of illnesses, and this, er, feeling? Any reason someone might have wanted to kill you?"
Charlie looked away. "You suspect Alice. That's why no-one will let me see her."
"I'm afraid we always suspect the spouse," the officer said, as gently as he could. "They are usually the ones with the most obvious motives and opportunities."
Charlie sighed. "I doubt she has the mental acuity to plot a murder. Easily confused, you know. Clumsy, sometimes. Distracted, suggestible. Still…"
"Sir?"
There was a pregnant pause. "She didn't mean it, I'm sure."
"But?"
Charlie sighed again. "We were having a disagreement, before we went out to lunch. She's been withdrawn and distant recently. I thought it would be good for her to get out a bit more. She disagreed. She said that I was, er, bullying her. She said — she said she wished I was dead."
The officer's face was carefully blank. "You didn't take her seriously?"
"No. We all say things we don't mean."
A note was made. "Do you have a will, sir?"
Charlie nodded. "Everything goes to Alice. I trust her to provide for our son."
The officer checked his notes. "Percy? Your stepson?"
"He's not my stepson. He's my child. I suppose it's no use keeping it a secret now." Charlie gave a bitter smile. "Alice left me, some years ago. She claimed she needed some time away from England. Away from me. She brought Percy to India with her to stay with her brother, and told everyone here I was dead. I demanded she come home, of course. When she did, I tried to be a better husband…"
Charlie trailed off, sniffed. "I'm sorry."
"Take your time," the officer said.
After a moment, Charlie went on, "I agreed to come to India. I thought it might make her happy. The climate. Being close to her brother. I took a job here and I even allowed her to tell another lie, lest her first be exposed. We've been telling people we met in Bombay and wed shortly afterwards, but Alice has been my darling wife since she was seventeen."
This required more note taking. "Who knows the truth?"
"Ralph Whelan and his wife, Madeline. You would have to ask Alice if there's anyone else. I kept it secret, as she requested."
The officer nodded grimly. "You've been very patient with her. What reason would she have to kill you?"
Charlie considered. "She knows I will not let her take my child away again, so divorce is out of the question. I had not thought she would go to such extremes, however. Of course her brother…"
"Ralph Whelan. What about him?"
"If Alice inherits my estate, it will be Ralph who has control of it," Charlie said. "He has her wrapped around his finger. She would do anything for him."
"Even kill?"
Charlie shrugged. "He is having some financial difficulty. I have been helping out. That's what one does, for family. But he is a proud man and he dislikes accepting my assistance."
"Enough to want you dead?"
"I couldn't say. But I would rather believe it of him than of my wife."
The officer turned another page. "Anyone else who might want to hurt you?"
"I suppose one makes enemies," Charlie said wryly. "But until today I hadn't thought on it. I suppose…"
"Yes?"
"I hardly like to think of it, but there were rumours that when Alice was in India previously, she may have taken a lover." Charlie closed his eyes briefly. "I've tried to keep an eye on her, but if she's cheating on me then of course she and her paramour would like to have me out of the way."
The officer shook his head in disgust. "There's someone you suspect?"
"Aafrin Dalal," Charlie said, choking out the words. "But he's Ralph's golden boy. Saved Ralphie's life, so he can do no wrong."
"Don't upset yourself, sir," the officer said. "We'll get to the bottom of this."
Charlie shifted position, winced. "Please, be gentle with Alice. I can't believe she had any part in this, not unless she was coerced. Or compelled; she is easily led. I blame myself for not taking a firmer hand."
The officer gave him a sympathetic look. "Just one more thing, sir. Walk me through the events of today, from the time you woke up until you were taken ill."
----TWO----
"Mrs S – oh, sorry, Mrs C," Charlie said, grinning. He leaned on the bar, his free hand around Alice's waist. Alice placed her handbag on the bar top and regarded Cynthia with a fixed smile.
Cynthia gave an equally false smile. "What I can get for you? Oh, Ralph, good to see you."
Ralph joined them, nodded, staring at Charlie and Alice. "Cynthia."
"Brandy," Charlie said. "Three?"
"I'd rather have whisky," Alice said tightly.
"Me too," Ralph said before Charlie could argue with Alice.
"Three whiskies then," Charlie said.
Cynthia poured the drinks.
"Grab those would you," Charlie said in the vague direction of both Alice and Ralph. Alice picked up her handbag and one glass while Ralph took the other two. Charlie remained at the bar, taking out some cash to pay for the drinks.
A moment later they were all seated at a nearby table. Ralph sat at one side, Charlie facing him, with Alice between them.
"Isn't that Dalal?" Charlie asked. Alice and Ralph both looked over to see Dalal heading over to them with a look of concern.
"Mr Whelan," Dalal said. "There is a message, from Colonel Madden. He sends his regrets that he will be unavoidably late for your meeting. He hopes to be here by this evening and hopes you can reschedule for tomorrow."
Ralph sighed. "He's always unavoidably delayed by something," he said. "Fine, it's fine. Sit down, Dalal."
Dalal obeyed, taking the seat between Ralph and Charlie. Ralph and Dalal discussed business some more. Charlie sipped at his drink, eyeing Alice. She was watching Dalal, one hand toying with her necklace.
Ralph made a joke. He laughed at it loudly. Dalal made a polite noise of amusement. Alice frowned, not having heard a word.
"Elephant, you see," Ralph said, and looked to Charlie to see why he didn't find it amusing. "Charlie?"
Charlie was staring at the table, taking rapid, shallow breaths. Alice finally stopped looking at Dalal to see why Ralph sounded worried.
"Throat's dry," Charlie said, loosening his cravat.
"Sir?" Dalal asked. "I'll get some water."
Charlie got to his feet, swaying. "I just need some air."
"Charlie." Alice stood as did Ralph. It was Ralph who caught Charlie when he doubled over in pain, both of them ending up on their knees.
Cynthia came over. "What's going on? Oh, lovely," she groused when Charlie vomited onto her recently scrubbed floor..
"Mr Havistock is unwell," Dalal offered.
"I would never have guessed," Cynthia snapped at him.
"Poison," Charlie croaked and everyone froze.
Cynthia shook her head and pointed an accusing finger as if her willpower could alter the facts. "Not in my club," she said, outraged.
"Not now, Cynthia," Ralph yelled. He still had one arm wrapped around Charlie's shoulders. "Fetch a doctor!"
----ONE----
"Come here." Charlie beckoned and Alice gave a sigh before she obediently moved to stand in front of him. She stared straight ahead at the bedroom window as he unbuttoned and rebuttoned her dress. There had been nothing wrong with the buttons, of course.
"That's better," he said, smoothing the material over her shoulders. "Can't have you wandering around in such a muddle. An unkempt wife reflects badly on her husband."
"We can't have that," Alice said, but there was sarcasm in her tone that made his hackles rise.
He took her hand, squeezed at her fingers until it was almost painful, before lifting her hand to he could press a kiss to her knuckles. "Don't you wish you were a better wife?"
She swallowed and met his challenge. "I wish you were dead," she said matter-of-factly.
Charlie released her abruptly. Where had this recent rebellious streak come from? Not Ralph, the man was almost as pathetic as his sister.
No, it seemed that Charlie's suspicions were right; Alice had taken Dalal as a lover and thought he might take her from Charlie. That could not be allowed. She was his, Charlie vowed, and if he couldn't have her, then no-one would.
"I forgive you," he said, choosing his words carefully, speaking loud enough for any servants nearby to hear. "You say such terrible things but I know you do not mean them."
She nodded. "Of course. It was just a joke. You like jokes, don't you?" She left the room as fast as she could manage without breaking into a run.
Charlie sat down on the edge of the bed and gave a long-suffering sigh. The idea had come to him a while back, but he'd hoped never to have cause to use it.
Arsenic was pitifully easy to obtain — in a well-stocked household like this one there was usually some kept for poisoning vermin. Enough of the white powder and he'd die, and while there was some pleasure to be had at the thought of Alice being hanged on his account, Charlie wasn't quite ready to go to such an extreme.
Just a little though, enough to provide evidence of the crime, taken with something to ensure he vomited before too much arsenic could be absorbed, that was another matter. It wouldn't be pleasant, but it would be incontrovertible proof that someone had tried to kill him.
He would insist Alice was being framed or had been coerced; if that failed, he would publicly forgive Alice, beg for clemency for her. Whisk her away back to England if necessary; Ralph would have to help him if it meant sparing Alice jail. She would never dare rebel against him again, not with the threat of execution always shadowing her if he should turn up dead or injured.
Or maybe Ralph would take the blame, that would be interesting. Alice would be devastated. Putty in his hands.
Or Dalal might fall on his sword, and Alice would have to live with the knowledge she'd destroyed his life. That ought to stop her straying in future.
It took only a second to drop the incriminating twist of paper into Alice's handbag. The mixture he'd prepared in advance was wrapped in a newspaper clipping and went into his trouser pocket. If he didn't manage to dispose of it after lacing his own drink, and it was found on his person, a crumpled clipping of the sports section wasn't likely to arouse suspicion.
Charlie straightened his cravat, checked his watch. "Muddle, we'll be late for lunch at the club," he called.
Alice reappeared with Sumitra behind her, the servant girl carrying Percy on her hip. Alice didn't meet Charlie's gaze as she picked up a shawl and her handbag.
Charlie kissed Percy's hair. "Be a good boy," he said and held out his hand to Alice. "Come along, my darling."
Notes: This is my second ever reverse chronology fic. You need a very specific idea to make these type of stories work well, working backwards through the scenes to what is often a twist at the end (start!). I hope this one worked for you.
The title is a play on the film/play title "Arsenic and Old Lace".
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I'm so glad it worked, because I honestly had my doubts by the end of it, strong as I thought the overall plot was. I wanted to explore how the 'heroes' are all basically liars while the 'bad guys' barely lie at all to lead the investigators to the obvious yet wrong conclusion. So many lies, such canonical/historical sexism and racism, and in any case if you're committing adultery and your emotionally -but never physicially- abusive husband ends up dead/wounded, you and your lover are bound to be suspects!
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Editing to add: I loved the title of this and thought it was particularly clever! ;D
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What was interesting was how the "bad guys" of the show, Charlie and Cynthia are telling mostly the truth, while the people we're supposed to root for, Alice and Dalal, are the ones committing adultery, conspiracy, etc, and leaving themselves in a vulnerable position.
Definitely worth a watch when it airs outside the UK. Episode 5 gave Charlie some juicy stuff to do, and the Guardian rightfully singled Ritson out for praise.
I'm glad the title worked; you know me and titles! And as usual it was the last thing to be chosen and I was desperate to get this one finished and posted because anything can happen in this show. I don't mind being jossed but it's always better to get things out there beforehand than to have a 'what-if' that seems implausible given later canon events!