Aiding And Abetting [Paperback]

'Unmistakable Spark, to be relished and enjoyed, like a late vintage claret or a high-grade murder' The Times

Celebrated psychiatrist Dr Hildegard Wolf is approached in her Paris consulting rooms by two men, both claiming to be the Lord Lucan who vanished 25 years after the vicious murder of his children's nanny. Can she discover their true identities before her own dark secret is revealed?

Muriel Spark's many novels include Memento Mori, The Girls of Slender Means and The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie (adapted for film and theatre). She was elected C. Litt in 1992 and awarded the DBE in 1993. She has received many awards, including the James Tait Black Memorial Prize, the Fnac Prix Etranger, the Ingersoll T. S. Eliot Award and the David Cohen British Literature Prize in recognition of a lifetime's literary achievement.

It was towards the end of that month that Hildegard asked him her first question.

'What can I do for you?'she said, as if he was positively intruding on her professional time.

He gave her an arrogant look, sweeping her face. 'First,' he said, 'I have to tell you that I'm wanted by the police on two counts: murder and attempted murder. I have been wanted for over twenty years. I am the missing Lord Lucan.'

Hildegard was almost jolted at this. She was currently treating another patient who claimed, convincingly, to be the long-missing lord. She suspected collusion.

'I suppose,' said the man at present sitting in her office, 'that you know my story.' She did indeed know his story. She knew it as thoroughly as anyone could, except for the police, who naturally would keep some secrets to themselves.

Hildegard had gathered books, and obtained press-cuttings dating from 1974, when the scandal had broken, to the present day. It was a story that was forever cropping up. The man In front of her, aged bout sixty-five, looked very like the latest police identikit of Lord Lucan, but so in a different way did the other patient.

The man sitting in front of her had reached down for his briefcase. 'The story is all here,' he said, tapping the bulging bag.

'Tell me about it,' she said.
Yes, in fact, let us all hear about it, once more. Those who were too young or even unborn at the time should be told, too. The Lord Lucan with whom this story is concerned was the seventh Earl of Lucan. He was born on 18th December 1934. He disappeared from the sight of his family and most of his friends on the night of 7th November 1974, under suspicion of having murdered his children's nanny and having attempted to murder his wife. The murder of the girl had been an awful mistake. He had thought, in the darkness of a basement, that she was his wife. The inquest into the death of the nanny, Sandra Rivett, ended in a verdict 'Murder by Lord Lucan' and a warrant of his arrest. As for his wife, Lady Lucan's account of that night fitted in with the findings of the police in all relevant details. However, the police had one very strongly felt complaint: the missing Earl had been aided and abetted in his movements subsequent to the murder. His upper-class friends, said the police, had helped the suspect to get away and cover his tracks. Hey mocked the police, they stonewalled the enquiries. By the time Lord Lucan's trail had been followed to any likely destination he could have been far away, or dead by his own hand. Many, at the time, believed he had escaped to Africa, where he had friends and resources.

From time to time throughout the intervening years 'sightings' of the missing suspect have been reported. The legend had not been allowed to fade. On 9th July 1994 the Daily Express wrote about him and the frightful end of Sandra Rivett by mistaken identity.
The work, it appeared, of a madman or someone deranged by pressure beyond his control...His cheques were bouncing all over smart Belgravia, the school fees had not been paid, he had overdrafted at four banks, borrowed money from a lender (at 18 percent interest), £7,000 from playboy Taki and £3,000 from another Greek. His mentor, gambler Stephen Raphael, had also lent him £3,000.
On the night of 7th November 1974, the basement of his wife's house was dark. The light-bulb had been removed. Down the stairs came a woman. Lucan struck not his wife but the nanny. 'When is Sandra's night off?' he had asked one of his daughters very recently. 'Thursday,' she said. But that Thursday Sandra did not take her evening off; instead she went down to the kitchen to make a cup of tea for herself and Lucan's estranged wife. Sandra was bashed and bludgeoned. She was stuffed into a sack. Bashed also was Lucan's wife when she came down to see what was the matter. She bit him; she had got him by the balls, unmanned him, offered to do a deal of complicity with him and then, when he went to the bathroom to wash away the blood, slipped out of the house and staggered a few yards down the street to a pub into which she burst, covered with blood. 'Murder!...the children are still in the house...'

He had tried to choke her with a gloved hand and to finish her with the same blunt instrument by which Sandra was killed.

The police arrived at the house. The Earl had fled. He had telephoned his mother telling her to take care of the children, which she did, that very night.

The Earl was known to have been seen briefly by a friend. Then lost. Smuggled out of the country or dead by his own hand?
The good Dr Wolf looked at her patient and let the above facts run through her head. Was this man sitting in front of her, the claimant to be Lord Lucan, in fact the missing murder suspect? He was smiling, smiling away at her thoughtfulness. And what had he to smile about?

She could ring Interpol, but had private reasons not to do so.

She said, 'There is another "Lord Lucan" in Paris at the moment. I wonder which of you is the real one? Anyway, our time is up. I will be away tomorrow. Come on Friday.'

'Another Lucan?'

'I will see you on Friday.' --This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.