by Sonia Parin
“Yes, well… I might not have spoken but my mind simply wouldn’t stop. How on earth did we find ourselves in this situation? Suddenly, I’m trying to think of ways to infiltrate the house and spy on people’s conversations. Oh, and maybe rescue Lotte.”
“No need. Here she comes.”
Lotte stopped just outside the pillared gate, stuck her arm out and signaled to them.
“I think she wants us to follow.”
They drove a short distance to the nearby village and stopped outside a pub. The Crooked Arrow boasted a menu of the best pies around.
“I hope Lotte has a lot to share with us over a lengthy luncheon. I’m not sure I’m ready to return to Halton House just yet,” Evie revealed.
“Too much chaos?” Tom asked.
“We’ll have to do something about restoring calm. Everyone appears to be coming down with a bout of Henrietta’s state of frenzy.”
“A distraction could work,” Tom suggested.
“Yes, perhaps we could set a date.” Evie rolled her eyes. Heavens, that would involve so much planning. “We could pretend to elope and just disappear for a few days. I feel I need to catch my breath.”
“That will not restore calm to the household,” Tom warned.
“No, but it would work for me. Could I be a little selfish?”
“You wouldn’t last the distance. You’d want to return in no time to set the record straight.”
Lotte waited for them by the door. When they reached her, she pushed out a hard breath. “There is much to discuss.”
Inside, they made their way to a table away from the people already enjoying an early lunch. The hum of conversation faded into the background as Lotte informed them of Marjorie Devon’s efforts to clear her name.
“The detective is now focusing on her. According to Sterling Wright, Marjorie claims she went to the stables to check on the horse and that’s when she ripped her dress.”
“Has she been taken into custody?” Evie asked.
“No, she’s still at Hillsboro Lodge but is not permitted to leave. The detective returned this morning and questioned her again.”
Evie nodded. “That makes sense. It is difficult to keep lies straight and consistent.”
“Where did you hear that?” Tom asked.
“I’m sure it’s something Detective O’Neill said. If you repeatedly question a suspect and they are guilty they are bound to slip up. The police use this tactic to pick up on inconsistencies. The fact she hasn’t been taken into custody probably means the detective doesn’t feel he has enough solid evidence to present a case. He needs to find a solid motive.”
Lotte agreed. “Yet, I’ve met enough detectives who would have had a rope around her neck by now. As to the mysterious gentleman accompanied by the platinum blonde, he is visiting from America and looking to settle here. So, I doubt he is in any way involved in the murder.”
“What about the others? Are they still at Hillsboro Lodge?”
Lotte nodded. “Everyone except Mrs. George Stevens. She returned to town early this morning. She has been taking prescribed narcotics to get her to sleep so the detective cleared her. In any case, according to Sterling Wright, the detective didn’t have any doubts about Mrs. Stevens.”
“And the others? How did they explain their absences from the ballroom?”
“They all said they were taking a break from the dancing.”
“Did you speak with the detective?” Evie asked.
“No.” Lotte looked around. “That’s why we came here. Sterling Wright told me the detective is staying at the pub and has been having his meals here…” She checked her watch, “At about this time.”
“And we are going to barge in on him,” Tom said.
Lotte grinned. “Nonsense. We’re going to invite him to join us. Here’s something else. Everyone had their fingerprints taken.”
“Really? What do they hope to match them with?”
“That’s what I’m hoping the detective will tell us.”
“And what about your investigation?” Evie asked.
“That, unfortunately, has now been closed. Sterling issued full payment for my services.”
“Is that what took so long?”
“No. He spent most of the time telling me what happened after we left and also this morning.”
In other words, he had talked a great deal without revealing anything they could use.
“He’s worried about his reputation in the district. We already know he doesn’t have his servants’ loyalty.”
Evie had never had that problem but she could imagine living in a house surrounded by people you couldn’t trust would be quite uncomfortable and discouraging.
Hearing the entrance door opening, they all looked up. A group of locals walked in and settled at a table.
Lotte resumed telling her tale. “After Sterling concluded our business, I assumed he would show me the door but, instead, he offered me coffee. I thought the others would join us but they were out riding.”
“Without a care in the world,” Evie mused.
“Yes. If any of them are guilty, they deserve a prize for their brazen audacity.”
Tom looked at Evie. “If your theory about a conspiracy is correct, they might want to stay close to the scene of the crime to make sure Marjorie sticks to her story.”
Not much of a theory, Evie thought, since she hadn’t been able to come up with a motive.
Most of the guests they had identified as possible suspects had shared interests in horse racing. But that didn’t include Marjorie Devon.
“Here he is.” Lotte jumped to her feet and waved. “Detective, do come and join us.”
Evie turned in time to see the detective hesitate. He glanced around the pub and then appeared resigned to his fate. Nodding, he removed his hat and walked toward them, his steps showing a hint of reluctance.
He greeted them and sat next to Lotte. “What brings you out this way?”
Lotte explained about her business with Sterling Wright and also revealed the fact they knew about the fabric found in the stables.
He reorganized his cutlery and Evie imagined him trying to avoid the subject. Had he had a change of heart about sharing information with them?
“Did you ask Marjorie about rosebud green or did we forget to tell you about it?” Lotte didn’t wait for his reply and went on to explain how Evie had come across the note. “You must admit Lady Woodridge did well to discover it. We have pinpointed the location.”
He blinked several times before saying, “It’s worth looking into.”
“But?” Lotte pushed.
He sighed. “At the moment, our investigation is focused on interviewing some of the guests. We are also looking into their background.”
Evie leaned forward. “You are trying to find a connection between them and George Stevens?”
“Yes. We know they are all linked to the world of horseracing but that doesn’t necessarily mean they have been in any way connected with George Stevens. What we need to find now is a motive. We don’t have a weapon. Finding a motive is essential in such a case.”
Because, otherwise, this would be a random killing, Evie thought.
“Did you find out what happened to the stable hands?”
He shook his head. “They have a small kitchen above the stables. The milk has been sent for analysis.”
“If you had to guess?” Lotte asked.
“I’d say someone put a sleeping powder in the milk. Someone who learned their routine. One of the stable lads said he talked to a man but he couldn’t describe him. He said he looked like a regular bloke. The lad thought he’d come with the guests so he didn’t think anything of it.”
“What sort of questions did he ask?”
“He showed an interest in how they were treated. If they had a good life there. The boy said he was well fed and felt lucky to have a warm bed to sleep in every night.”
“Did he ask about their routine?”
“T
he boy said something about early to bed, early to rise.”
Evie told him about the man they had seen talking with Helena Lloyd during the foxhunt. “We didn’t get a good look at him but I don’t think he was a guest.”
The detective shrugged. “It could be someone working behind the scenes.”
Did that make Helena Lloyd a strong suspect?
The detective smiled. “Or, Mrs. Lloyd might have been having a tryst.” He studied Evie for a moment. “However, the encounter has been taken into account.”
“I heard some of the guests had their fingerprints taken,” Lotte said.
The detective closed his eye briefly. Evie guessed he was trying to call for calm.
“You heard correctly.”
“Does that mean you found a fingerprint?”
“Indeed.”
Evie grinned. “And you are going to make us work really hard to get the information out of you.”
“I sent the syringe to Scotland Yard. They contacted me this morning to say they had found a partial print which could be used to identify the culprit. Of course, they needed samples of fingerprints. We took care of that and sent the information on.”
“And now you have to wait to hear from Scotland Yard,” Evie mused. “Thank heavens none of us handled the syringe.”
The more she thought about it, the more Evie believed someone had gone to a great deal of trouble to plan the murder.
The detective appeared to relax.
Lotte knew she had the tiger by the tail and clearly refused to let go. “What about the cause of death?”
He brushed a hand across his brow. Evie found his patience admirable. She knew he was under no obligation to share what he knew with them.
“We initially suspected he suffered a severe kick to the head. However, the examiner has now found evidence of another blow made with a small instrument.”
“Something like a hammer?” Lotte asked.
“Possibly.”
Evie sat back and pushed out a sigh of relief. That put the horse in the clear. “Rosebud Green,” Evie said and thought she saw the detective’s eye twitch.
“All in due course, my lady. We do have a process of elimination. Unfortunately, we also have a scarcity of personnel. It is my job to delegate responsibilities and people can’t be everywhere at once.” He sighed again. “You don’t look convinced. Rest assured, we will investigate Rosebud Green.”
“Just not today.” Evie suddenly understood Henrietta’s impatience.
They placed their orders. Despite not being hungry, Evie went ahead and ordered a game pie.
“What about Archie Arthurs? Has he turned up?” Evie asked.
The detective shook his head. “His luggage is still at Hillsboro Lodge. No one has seen him since the morning of the ball. Sterling Wright assures me there is nothing unusual in his disappearance as he has a habit of wandering off. Mr. Wright is convinced he will turn up eventually. We hope he does. There is something suspicious about his behavior and we would like to speak with him.”
Evie drummed her fingers on the table and tried to remember what else they had discussed.
The vial.
When she asked him about it, the detective sat back and studied her for a moment. “We didn’t find one.”
That took everyone by surprise.
“That does open up a new avenue. The poison must have been stored somewhere.”
When he made a note of it, Evie knew the idea hadn’t occurred to him.
Putting his notebook aside, he asked, “How is Lady Carolina?”
Evie couldn’t decide if he wanted to change the subject, if he’d asked out of politeness or if he had a special interest in Caro’s wellbeing. “She is doing her best to remember something that might help you in your investigation.”
When their meals were served, they focused on summarizing everything they had observed, giving the detective no chance to enjoy a quiet meal.
The moment they finished their meal, the detective shot to his feet and excused himself.
As they parted ways, Tom murmured, “The detective is clutching his stomach. I think we might have given him a bout of indigestion.”
“What now?” Lotte asked.
“We could enjoy a drive in the country,” Evie suggested.
Both Tom and Lotte looked up at the gray sky.
“Do you have any particular destination in mind?” Tom asked even though he already knew the answer.
“Yes, the village of Rosebud Green.”
Chapter 21
A drive in the country
Rosebud Green
Smaller than the village of Halton, Rosebud Green had a row of buildings with various businesses and dwellings above. They had spotted a couple of large manor houses along the way and could see one at the end of the main street. A church spire rose above another row of buildings. And, peeking from around the corner, they saw the edge of what looked like a village green, which no doubt led to the church.
“This does not look like a hub of criminal activity,” Evie observed.
Tom laughed. “Is that what you hoped to find?”
“I’m now worried. The detective has few resources at his disposal. How… When is he going to find the time to scour through the village and surrounding countryside?”
Tom looked up at the sky. “Is that what we’re going to do? We might need to revise our plans.”
“We should be finished before those dark clouds decide what they want to do.”
Stopping outside a tearoom, they waited for Lotte to join them. When she did, she suggested walking around.
After surveying the length and breath of the village, they returned to the tearoom.
“The church is pretty,” Evie said. “And I’m sure some of these buildings date back to Tudor times. It would all be interesting enough if we were here to take in the sights. Shall we go in for refreshments? We could ask if there have been any strangers visiting lately.”
“I’m willing to bet we’ll be the only ones,” Lotte said. “You would need to be quite adventurous to find this village.”
Inside, they went to stand by the fireplace to warm up. There were three women enjoying their afternoon tea with scones. A young woman hurried in from the back of the establishment carrying a tray with more scones. She smiled and invited them to sit wherever they liked.
Since a table by the window offered them a view of the road, they sat there.
“I suppose I can understand why the detective didn’t sound in a hurry to come here.”
Lotte nodded. “He would need a strong lead to justify the trip. He has already questioned the guests, including Marjorie who left a piece of her dress in the stables. The detective still hasn’t made an arrest. Yet, he is determined to continue questioning the guests and waiting for test results to return. He probably has to justify his every move to a higher authority. Whereas we are free to roam about and follow our curiosity.”
Evie twirled her thumbs. She looked at Lotte. “I keep going back to the conversations you overhead. I’m trying to justify my theory about a conspiracy.”
Lotte nodded. “You are going to ruin us. From memory, that’s what I overheard Helena Lloyd say.”
Evie nodded. “Now I’m thinking about Twiggy Lloyd’s red face when he returned to the great hall. That’s when I noticed Sterling Wright had also been missing. When he walked in, his gaze went straight to Twiggy.”
“Do you think Sterling is involved?” Tom asked.
“Perhaps not in a crime. My imagination tells me he stumbled on a plot and tried to call those involved to order. He seemed determined to ignore George Stevens’ efforts to buy back the horse. Maybe he is the type to want to step back and let things play out without taking any action. And, maybe, when he discovered the others had taken action…”
“He intervened,” Tom said.
“Yes… Maybe.” Evie waved her hands. “Imagination serves a purpose up to a point. The detective said he’s looking into the gue
sts’ backgrounds. He wants something solid to pursue.”
As soon as the young woman came to take their orders, Lotte asked, “Do you get many visitors to the area?”
“Not at this time of the year. In the springtime, we hold several fairs but that only attracts local farmers.” She tilted her head. “Actually, it’s funny you should ask. Someone asked the same question earlier today.”
“Really? A man or a woman?”
She nodded. “A woman. There were two of them. A lady and her maid. Now that I think about it, they were joined by the chauffeur, which I found unusual. I’ve never seen the local gentry coming in with their servants.”
“What did you tell them?”
She smiled and seemed quite happy to chat with them. “The same thing I told you. Except… they pressed me for more information.”
“And did you have anything further to add?”
“No, not really. But they were keen to get some information out of me. That’s when they started rattling off names to see if I recognized any of them.”
They all looked intrigued.
“Can you remember any of the names they mentioned?” Tom asked.
“Let me think… There was one name I found amusing. Twiggy something or other.”
“Twiggy Lloyd?”
Her eyes widened with surprise. “Yes, that’s it.”
“What about the other names?”
“Let me think… Oh, yes. They mentioned Archie Arthurs.”
When the young woman didn’t explain further, Tom pressed her, “And the name sounded familiar?”
“Not exactly. I mean… I heard someone being called Mr. Arthurs. That seemed to interest the lady. Mr. Arthurs came in for a cup of tea and another man walked in soon afterward and called out his name.” The young woman cleared her throat and deepening her voice, said, “Mr. Arthurs. We’re ready.”
We’re ready?
Ready for what?
“This happened today?” Lotte asked.
“No, that was yesterday.”
“In the morning or the afternoon? Can you recall?”
“Close to midmorning.”