The Lady's Scandalous Secret (The Discreet Investigations of Lord and Lady Calaway Book 7)

by Issy Brooke

  Inspector Menzies sighed. “Come into my office and let’s go over this again.”

  For half an hour, Theodore went in circles, trying to persuade the inspector that Mrs Spenning was innocent – or, if she was not, there was no evidence to say otherwise. It was arduous and frustrating and Theodore said “I was mistaken” far more times than he had ever said in his life before, if he discounted conversations with his wife, that was.

  Finally the inspector stood up. “Wait here,” he ordered.

  Theodore was left to twiddle his thumbs for an interminable time. The inspector kept a very tidy office and there was nothing of interest to look at.

  When he finally returned, he said, “I despatched a constable to Miss Johnson who, with a great deal of sobbing, agreed with what you told me. I have also spoken with Mrs Spenning. Everything she said matches what you have told me, and I have sent constables to both Weatherall’s and the druggist she claims that she used in Yarmouth. She said they were merely light sedatives of the sort than anyone can buy. She was most firm on the matter. Convincingly so, which always makes me suspicious, but until anything else more solid comes to light, she is free to go.”

  “Has she gone already?”

  “Yes, the moment I allowed it. One can hardly blame her.”

  Theodore got wearily to his feet. He started to thank the inspector for his patience, but the Scotsman cut him off.

  “I suggest you take more care over what you meddle in,” he said. “Perhaps stick to what you are best at.”

  But he didn’t go on to say what Theodore’s “best” might be. He left it hanging, and Theodore trudged out into the street, feeling about six inches tall.

  “Calaway!” boomed the cheerful voice.

  “Mr Macauley!”

  “My lord. You look as if you’ve been kicked in the – well, you don’t look chipper, my old man. Fancy joining me for a small restorative?” Mr Macauley said, pointing up the road to a public house.

  “Actually, yes. I rather think that I will, thank you.”

  “So what’s the problem? The case not going too well, I assume?”

  “I never really expected the case to be much more than a mild diversion while we holidayed with our daughter and son-in-law. So I cannot fail at something I have not tried too hard with. No, it’s another matter entirely. Maybe.”

  “How awfully cryptic. Will it help to talk about it?”

  They got themselves settled into a snug at the back of the bar, and Theodore wondered how much he ought to say. He was mindful of Adelia’s suspicions about Mrs Macauley and Miss Johnson.

  But perhaps he could dig a little into that.

  “You are a plain talking man, Mr Macauley,” he said.

  “I am. To my cost, sometimes.” He grinned.

  “Your good lady wife is in close cahoots with Miss Johnson at Litton. What binds them?”

  “It’s the illustrations,” said Mr Macauley openly. “You must have seen them. Flowers and what-not.”

  “They are both into botanical drawing?”

  “Yes. It’s quite the thing for the logical-minded woman, isn’t it? You should see our house. Orchids everywhere. Damn things wither and die when I so much as look at them, but my wife has some kind of magic touch. She reads books about them. Books! Miss Johnson loves to come and draw them. Once you’ve drawn one, you’ve drawn them all, I think, but she’s obsessed. She goes into a kind of trance when she’s sketching. Perfectly creepy, if you ask me.”

  That did sound odd, and Theodore resolved to ask Bamfylde about “artistic trances.” But if the two women had such a shared interest, it explained everything, as far as he was concerned. So he moved on, and said, “Your wife might have mentioned that Miss Johnson has been unwell these past few days?”

  “Yes … well, she might have mentioned it. Did she mention it? I should have listened. Is she unwell? Is she recovering?”

  “She was unwell but now she is on the mend.”

  “Ah, good.” Mr Macauley beamed. “Shall we have another drink?”

  They called for more alcohol. Mr Macauley leaned over the table. “So, the investigation has drifted off the rails, has it?”

  “Every single case I’ve solved had a moment that it drifted off the rails and ended up, in some cases, lodged in a swamp,” Theodore said. “This is no different. We thought we had the culprit but she slipped through our fingers…”

  “She? The only ‘she’ who was a suspect was Mrs Spenning. Ah, interesting. So it is not her, then?”

  “It still might be. But it’s a question of getting at the evidence, you see.”

  “And that will be hard after a year.” Mr Macauley sat back in his chair and smiled almost slyly. “But what of Mr Calcraft and the things that he’s been up to lately?”

  “What of him?” Theodore asked, his interest suddenly piqued.

  “Well, he grows stranger by the day. I mean, simply asking his son to return home was shocking enough. And lately he has been all over town, and in Yarmouth, and in Norwich too, suddenly deeply involved in his business interests again.”

  “Was he not involved before?”

  “He had been letting things slide. But now he is full of renewed zeal – but it is as if he is winding everything up. At first people thought he was priming his son to take over but it seems that the younger Calcraft is thoroughly wedded to the army and would not leave to take over his father’s interests. Of course, he has a comfortable commission, and not many duties. He seems to be paid to look good in a uniform.”

  “Edwin Calcraft is really winding everything up?” Theodore repeated.

  “Yes. He is selling everything. He has sold many of his assets already. He is putting word about that his stakes in many businesses are now up for grabs. He is relinquishing his position on this board and that board; it was not until the past few days that I realised quite how many pies the man has his fingers in!”

  “He is retiring, then,” Theodore said. “You know, I have been wondering a great deal about the man’s health.”

  “Ah!” said Mr Macauley. “Something could be ailing him. It’s the time of life that these diagnoses all start piling onto a man. That would explain why he called the son back, would it not?”

  “Indeed. Do you know who attends him as a doctor? I might be able to persuade some professional confidences to be broken perhaps. If he has been given a limited time left in this mortal world, he would naturally want to make amends and to ensure his son will inherit a good amount of money.”

  Mr Macauley nodded. “I have no idea of his medical issues but the nearest doctors to Empton are all in Yarmouth. You’d have to go from place to place, ask around. There are a few possibilities. That said, in a small village like ours, everyone knows one another’s business and I am sure that I would have heard the gossip from my dear wife if a doctor had ever been called out to Calcraft’s house.”

  Theodore smiled and didn’t remind Mr Macauley that he had already admitted he didn’t listen to his wife. He’d get Adelia to look into the matter.

  “Anyway,” Mr Macauley went on, “The man himself has explained his actions. Apparently, he is intending to go travelling as soon as he can get away.”

  “Really? Do you believe that?”

  “No one does. For he has not been seen in any of the outfitters or emporia dedicated to furnishing the gentleman traveller with all of his needs. No doubt he has various useful items left over from his time in the East, but no one can confirm if he has bought tickets or booked passage or anything. And you can be sure that everyone is curious, so people are looking and they are paying attention. Rum do, isn’t it?”

  “A rum do indeed!” Theodore said with a growing excitement.

  Mrs Spenning was an obvious suspect. Too obvious.

  Mr Edwin Calcraft, on the other hand, was in some ways more likely.

  Theodore just needed to follow the threads now. Follow the threads right back to the night in the boathouse.

  17

/>   Adelia was sitting in the morning room with Anne and Emily when Theodore rushed back. The sun had slipped away around the building, and the room was darker but it was peaceful and no one felt inclined to move.

  Well, that was not strictly true. Adelia wanted to be active. She wanted to roam the village and the town, and head into Great Yarmouth, and ask questions and unravel the truth, but she could not. She had a duty to sit with the invalid Miss Johnson and make polite conversation. She wanted to probe and winkle the truth out of Emily, but she was clearly still a little unwell.

  So she stifled her frustration, and did what her role demanded of her.

  Emily had been fairly silent, sunk into her own gloomy introspection. Anne was half-heartedly doing embroidery and Adelia didn’t even pretend to keep her hands busy. It was a relief when Theodore burst into the room.

  “Well?” Adelia demanded.

  He flung himself untidily onto a couch. “Mrs Spenning has been released without charge.”

  Adelia braced herself for Emily’s now-inevitable attack of the vapours.

  Emily was, indeed, already shaking her head.

  “She is a murderess,” she whispered.

  “Perhaps so,” Adelia said, calmly. More calmly than she felt, in fact. “And if she is, we are still working to uncover the truth. And if it appears that she was also trying to kill you, we will discover it.”

  Emily twitched unhappily. She spoke with a rasp, looking around the room with a blank gaze, as if she were talking to herself. “It is curious. It is curious. Of all the people in the world that I thought might try to kill me, it would not be her. I am more use to her alive. No, if anyone were to kill me, it would be Mr Calcraft.”

  Anne dropped her embroidery. Theodore sat up slowly.

  Adelia said, still calmly, as if she were trying not to startle a horse, “Dear Miss Johnson, why on earth would Mr Calcraft try to kill you? Which one, the older or the younger?”

  “The older. The Colonel. Mr Edwin Calcraft. Oh, they all hate me. He must hate me in particular.”

  “Why does he hate you?”

  Emily closed her eyes as if she were remembering great pain. “I don’t know why. But he simply does. He made his son jilt me, after all.”

  Adelia looked at Theodore. He was frowning. He put out his hand to stop Adelia speaking. He said, in a careful way, “Miss Johnson, your unfortunate betrothed was erroneously arrested before the wedding.”

  “I didn’t see it happen. It was because of him, the father; he forced Archie to break it off, I know it.”

  “No, Em!” said Anne. “It was old Mr Spenning.”

  “Spenning? He wasn’t there.”

  “Mr Spenning was the magistrate and he ordered the arrest of Archibald Calcraft.”

  Emily shook her head. “Spenning? Mr Spenning? Why did he do that?”

  “We don’t know,” Theodore admitted. “But it is true. Spenning lost his position as a magistrate after that, as it was proven to be a wrongful arrest. Didn’t you know? At first we thought it might be a mistake but we have been told that he had done it as a deliberate act. But we don’t know why. I don’t think it was to punish you, Miss Johnson. I think it was to punish his son and you were merely an unfortunate victim.”

  Emily pressed her hands to her mouth in growing horror. “Spenning? Spenning did it?”

  Anne went to her side to comfort her, but Emily pushed her away.

  “No, no!” Emily cried out. “If Spenning was behind it, then Spenning is my enemy – was my enemy – oh! Oh, I see it now! This is my motive, is it not? You have thought, all along, that I am a suspect! You thought that I knew about this! Oh dear God, Anne, please tell me I am not a suspect? Oh – I can see from your eyes, from your face – I am!”

  “No, Emily, dear…”

  Emily stood up, and swayed unsteadily. “I have always been a suspect, haven’t I? Oh! I did not know that Spenning was behind it. I thought it was Calcraft, always, though I never knew why. Spenning? But if you do not believe me, if you don’t believe that I never knew it was Spenning, then you will think that I am a murderess! How can I … what do I …” Her words tumbled out in a mess, and she grew incoherent as she sobbed.

  And, thought Adelia in horror at the misunderstanding that had unfolded, her reaction this time was perfectly understandable.

  Anne tried to persuade Emily to sit down again. “Papa, could you bring Miss Johnson a calming draught of something?”

  “Or sherry?” suggested Adelia though Theodore frowned at her for that.

  “Well,” she muttered at his glare. “I should want sherry in such a situation.”

  “I don’t want anything,” said Emily in distress. “I want to be – alone. I want to go to my room.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” said Adelia. She was concerned for Emily and what she might do. “Why not sit with us a little while longer? We will talk of other matters.”

  Emily looked like she might consider it.

  “Tell us about your botanical work,” Anne said.

  Emily stiffened.

  “Yes,” said Adelia. “There was a beautiful portfolio in your room the other day. Bring it here and we will admire it together. I should so very like to see more of your work.”

  Adelia really did mean every word.

  But Emily stifled a sob, and fled from the room, ignoring everyone’s protests and entreaties.

  Mrs Macauley turned up again. She was forceful, this time, in her insistence that she wanted to see Emily. Adelia and Theodore waited in the hall with her as Anne went up to speak to Emily in her room.

  “I know you’ve spoken with my husband,” Mrs Macauley said, pointing at Theodore in an unladylike way. “He come home after having had rather too much to drink.”

  “Oh, Theodore,” said Adelia crossly. She shot him a look to let him know there would be words later.

  “He was very helpful,” Theodore said. “Is there anything that you know about Mr Calcraft and why he is selling up his business affairs?”

  “He says he is going to travel.”

  “That’s what I was told. But is it true?”

  “It might be. There’s another person who is selling things as fast as she can.”

  “She?” said Adelia. She knew instantly who it was. “Mrs Spenning, I assume?”

  “Yes, the very same. But she is not claiming she is going to travel.”

  “What is she claiming?”

  “Absolutely nothing. She won’t say a word to anyone about anything.”

  “Oh,” said Theodore. “I was hoping to be able to ask you about Mr Calcraft’s medical issues.”

  Mrs Macauley laughed and Adelia was startled. She hadn’t had much chance to speak privately with Theodore since his return from town, and was not sure what he was talking about. She hoped he wasn’t about to put his foot in it.

  But his tact seemed to have been improving lately. He said, “I was wondering if there are any reports of medical visitors to the Calcraft house? Ever?”

  She shook her head. “Nothing dramatic, as far as I know. If there had been late-night calls in carriages or such-like, I am sure I would have heard about it. But a man’s medical history is a private matter and if he is under the care of a professional man in Yarmouth, I do not know it.”

  Adelia smiled. In such a small community, even a man’s haemorrhoids were hardly a private matter so anything else was very much fair game.

  Anne reappeared then. “She would be delighted to see you, Mrs Macauley, if you will come up?”

  “Thank you.”

  “One moment,” said Adelia before Mrs Macauley left. “What is Mrs Spenning selling, and where?”

  Mrs Macauley said, “She is selling absolutely everything. Everything that she owns. It is as if she wants to empty that house completely. And she is selling it to whoever will pay her the first fair price. Good day.”

  Adelia and Theodore stared at one another.

  Two suspects, both now acting even
more suspiciously.

  Adelia said, “It is late in the day. We can do nothing more now. But there is light enough yet, and I am minded to call upon Mrs Spenning again.”

  “To what end? Every attempt to engage with her has been unproductive.”

  “I shall be direct with her. Perhaps she will respect that, if she is innocent. If she is guilty, well, I do not know.” Adelia had some misgivings about it, but she felt she had not yet tried every approach with Mrs Spenning.

  “Are you going alone?” Theodore asked.

  “Yes. But I would like it if you will walk with me, and wait for me outside?”

  He extended his elbow. “Willingly. It is always a privilege to be seen with such a beautiful woman on my arm.”

  18

  “It was exactly as dreadful as I knew it would be,” Adelia said wearily the next morning as she sat in the morning room with Anne. Young Patrick had been running riot until he was hauled away by the nurse, to everyone’s disappointment. He was going to turn into a lively young man – which could be both good and bad – but for the moment, he was cute and charming. “She was not terribly communicative. Which I expected, but it was still disappointing.”

  “Well, she had just been arrested on papa’s say-so,” Anne replied. “She’s not going to welcome you with open arms. She’s not very hospitable at the best of times, as we’ve seen, time and time again.”

  “I thought I might be able to explain the mistake. I thought that if I were disarmingly honest, she would…”

  “She would be disarmed?”

  “Yes. But she came out with all her guns blazing and quite shot me down where I stood. There was nothing I could say or do. I feel such a fool.”

  Anne smiled sympathetically. “Mama, move on. It is done. It is a terrible and damaging tendency that I have, and I hope that you do not have – I mean, the tendency to go over and over one’s anxious moments. It simply revisits an unnecessary feeling of fear or frustration. It is not easy to turn one’s thoughts away, I know, but I have learned to do it. And you must, too.”