‘I said the fabric is charred.’ She pointed to a black hole in the white cotton.
‘Oh yes, right, I see,’ I said, trying to concentrate. I decided I should stick to my questioning strategy to avoid babbling. ‘What do you think?’
‘It must have been the point of contact.’
‘He doesn’t smell,’ I mentioned. ‘I don’t think he was erm…’ I was about to say fried, but thought better of it.
‘Cooked?’ Persi said bluntly. ‘No, his heart was stopped.’
‘The floor of the fuse room was wet.’ Swift was matter of fact. ‘Trent wore leather shoes. Once he touched a live wire, the current would have passed through his body.’
I glanced at Trent’s polished black brogues and the tan soles, which were dark with water stains.
‘He was most particular about his shoes,’ Mullins mentioned.
‘You said he grasped the power-switch handle.’ I stood up. ‘Why would it be live?’
‘I could not elucidate, sir.’ Mullins sounded apologetic.
‘We can’t answer that until we search the fuse room in daylight.’ Swift was checking the body, going through pockets, Persi was helping, they were quite systematic. I wondered if Greggs had saved any supper.
‘A set of keys,’ Swift held up a number of keys on a chain. ‘That’s all there is.’
‘Mr Trent did not like to carry items of bulk upon his person. He believed it spoiled the line of the uniform,’ Mullins explained.
‘Have you known Trent long?’ I asked him.
‘We were in the army together, sir, in India with the Royal Artillery. I was colour sergeant and Mr Trent was the sergeant major. He was a hard man and quite fearsome in battle,’ Mullins recounted in his measured manner. ‘He was struck by a sword thrust to the skull, fortunately his was thick, or the blow would have finished him. Nevertheless, the army forced retirement upon him and Lord Sinclair offered him a post.’
‘Was Monroe in the same regiment?’ I asked.
‘He was, sir. He was a corporal,’ Mullins replied.
‘There was bad blood between them?’ I added.
Mullins nodded. ‘Once we took our posts at Lanscombe Park, Mr Trent maintained order according to our ranks. Mr Monroe refused to kowtow and, as he was close to his Lordship, there was little Mr Trent could do. However, it was not a cause for violence, sir. It was mere pettifoggery.’
‘Right. Well thank you, old chap.’ I thought him a venerable fellow with the dignity and courage typical of a colour sergeant.
‘May we take him upstairs, sir?’ Mullins asked.
I thought Swift was about to refuse, but he nodded. ‘Yes, very well, but keep him somewhere cool.’
‘Without electricity, the house will prove very cool, sir.’ Mullins raised the lantern in his gloved hand. ‘May I be of further assistance?’
‘No, you’ve been most helpful,’ Swift replied graciously.
‘Then I will leave you and find some men to aid in Mr Trent’s removal.’ He went off along the corridor.
Persi was shivering with the cold in her silk frock.
‘We should go.’ Swift had noticed too.
‘Just a moment,’ I’d been waiting for Mullins to move out of earshot. ‘Swift, open the door.’
‘What? No. There’s a live power cable in there,’ Swift baulked.
I whipped off my bowtie. ‘Give me the key, I’ll open it.’
‘Lennox…’ Persi cautioned.
‘Swift,’ I pressured him.
‘I hope you know what you’re doing.’ He pulled the key out and unlocked the door.
‘Persi, hold the lantern.’ I handed it to her. She raised it up as I looped my bowtie around the handle of the power-switch and jerked it down into the off position.
Nobody said anything for a moment.
‘That was really dangerous,’ Swift muttered.
Persi laughed quietly. ‘And brave.’
‘Look,’ I bent down to retrieve the cause of the glimmer I’d spotted.
‘What is it?’ Persi asked.
I held up a long narrow piece of copper. ‘It’s the murder weapon.’
Swift peered at it, then pulled out his handkerchief to take it from me. He suddenly grinned. ‘Well spotted, Lennox.’
‘You’re becoming quite the detective.’ Persi looked up at me.
‘At times.’ I gazed at her. ‘Could I have the lantern?’
She returned it with a smile and I smiled back.
‘How do you think it was done?’ She asked.
‘I’m not sure…’
‘Lennox,’ Swift brought me back to reality.
I stopped gazing at Persi and offered him some light.
He leaned in to scrutinise the controls. ‘There are scratches.’ He pointed to the inner side of the black box surrounding the fuses. ‘The copper strip must have been forced into the gap where the power-switch is attached to the panel, it would have sent the current through it.’
‘Yes, and the strip would have been positioned to run alongside the handle,’ I was thinking as I talked. ‘Trent wouldn’t have been able to see it.’
Swift nodded in agreement. ‘When he reached up to pull it down, he’d have touched the copper.’
‘It would have killed him instantly.’ Persi said and turned around to glance at Trent’s cold dead body lying a short way from us.
‘The window has been left open.’ Swift pointed. ‘Which explains the puddle on the floor.’
I glanced up, we were below ground, there was a small window set high in the wall, someone had pulled it open a notch and allowed the rain to seep in.
‘Clever,’ Swift muttered.
‘And very simple,’ I added.
‘The killer is going to come back for the strip, aren’t they?’ Persi said.
‘We’ll ask Mullins to place a guard at the end of the passageway,’ Swift replied.
‘Come on,’ I could see how cold poor Persi was. ‘Let’s go upstairs.’
Swift locked the door again and we turned to leave. I offered Persi my hand as she stepped over Trent and she took it. It was quite romantic – apart from the corpse, that is.
We returned to the grand hall, the servants had been busy, there were lanterns in every niche and corner, bathing the place in flickering lamplight.
‘I’ll find Mullins,’ Swift declared and went off.
That left just the two of us alone together.
‘I should go and say something to the family,’ Persi began.
‘Right, I’ll erm… I’ll escort you.’ We walked upstairs in silence.
‘Heathcliff.’ She stopped on the landing near Sinclair’s office. ‘I was so angry.’
I leaned against the bannister, pools of flickering lamplight lit us from below.
‘I’m sorry, Persi.’
‘How could you do it to me?’
‘I wrote to you any number of times to explain why. You didn’t even reply.’
‘Yes, I did.’ Her tone was sharp.
‘You returned the ring I gave you. That hardly constitutes a reply.’
She was standing beside me, her hands on the bannister rail, her face illuminated by the distant lamplight. ‘Lennox, after you walked out, I sat amongst my family with an empty chair beside me.’
I heard the catch in her voice. I scrambled my mind to think of something to say. ‘Didn’t anyone come and sit next to you?’
‘Lydia did.’
‘Well, it wasn’t empty then.’
That didn’t appear to be the right answer. Her eyes flashed. ‘It wasn’t just the humiliation. I realised I couldn’t rely on you. I couldn’t trust you to be there to support me.’
That stung. ‘That’s not true. I went all the way to Damascus for you, I even helped get your idiot ex-fiancé out of jail. Not to mention the trip to Egypt, which was appalling… ’
‘And then you abandoned me in my parent’s dining room.’ She retorted. ‘What sort of future do we have if you can’t fa
ce my family? I couldn’t even trust you to turn up at our wedding.’
She had a point there.
‘We could elope.’
That wasn’t the right reply either.
‘Lennox,’ she blazed.
‘Persi,’ I faced her, thinking to reason with her, but realised that probably wasn’t going to work either. I switched tack. ‘Will you help with the investigation?’
She glared at me, opened her mouth, then shut it again.
‘You know this place and these people. There is a murderer here.’
‘It might be a member of my own family.’
I decided not to mention that it almost certainly was. ‘One of them might be the next victim.’
She chewed her lip. ‘But Monroe’s death sounded like an accident, Lydia called me about it just after it happened.’
‘But the gun in the parcel frightened Sinclair, didn’t that make you suspicious?’
‘I haven’t heard anything about a gun.’ She frowned.
‘Didn’t Lydia tell you?’
‘Tell me what?’ At least she’d stopped yelling.
‘You mean, you don’t know about Lydia calling me and…’ I laughed. Then I told her all that had happened and how we’d been tricked into coming to Lanscombe.
‘She didn’t even tell me you were here when she invited me to dinner tonight.’ She was incensed.
‘But she was right, there is a killer here.’ I’d been watching her face, the mix of surprise and anger. She really was bewitchingly beautiful.
She leaned forward to place her elbows on the rail, the silk of her dress rippling as she moved. ‘It’s a terrible thought, Lennox. Why would anyone kill Sinclair’s men?’
I shrugged. ‘We don’t know.’
Her brow furrowed. ‘What time was Monroe’s accident?’
‘Half-past five on Sunday evening.’
‘Where was everyone?’
‘Lydia and Jerome were at the folly, Sinclair was in his office, Lady Penelope was in her room. We don’t know where Max and Finn were yet.’
She was looking down at the chequered tiles in the hall below. ‘You don’t seem to have learned very much.’
‘I…’ I was about to protest, thinking of all the events in what had been a very long day. ‘Well, we’ve only just started.’
‘There are already two dead men.’
‘And a very clever killer,’ I returned.
‘Like in Damascus.’ She suddenly smiled up at me, then her face fell again. ‘But what if it is one of the family…’
‘What do you know of Finn?’ I thought I’d better divert her.
She sighed. ‘Very little. I’ve heard about him, but tonight was the first time I’ve met him. He was raised in America.’
‘It must have caused quite the scandal.’
She shrugged. ‘It was years ago, my mother told me about it. Penelope was heroic. Once she learned Finn had been placed for adoption, she arranged for money to be sent out. She’s extraordinary, the whole family adore her.’
‘Where was Finn born?’
‘In Alaska.’
‘At the time Sinclair and Randolph were there?’
‘I suppose so, I’ve never given it any thought.’
‘Persi,’ Lydia called down from above. ‘Is that you?’
‘Yes.’ Persi turned towards the stairs.
Lydia came down holding a candle. She stopped to glance from one to the other of us.
‘Oh, how wonderful! You’re talking again.’ She came to join us.
‘Lydia, you have some explaining to do,’ Persi warned.
Lydia wasn’t daunted. ‘Well, we can go upstairs and I’ll tell you everything.’
‘No, I must leave,’ Persi argued.
‘Oh, you can’t! It’s terribly late, it’s after ten o’clock.’
‘It’s only nine thirty.’ Persi glanced at her wrist watch. ‘What happened to your lovely gold watch?’
‘It’s broken, Jerome is having it mended. Please, come, I’ve gone to so much trouble,’ Lydia pleaded. ‘We’ve had a bed made up for you, there’s a roaring fire in your room and tons of blankets. You’ll be as snug as a bug in a rug.’
‘My car’s outside.’ Persi wasn’t so easily diverted.
‘Please, Persi.’ Lydia looked close to tears. ‘Everyone’s terribly upset about Trent, and Monroe. I’d like you to stay.’
‘The police will be here in the morning, Persi,’ I told her. ‘They’ll want to interview everyone.’
Her eyes met mine as she realised the full implications. ‘Oh, very well.’
That brought an instant change in Lydia. Her smile returned and she tugged at Persi’s arm. ‘Oh, how marvellous. Come on, we’ll make hot chocolate over the fire and munch biscuits.’
‘Yes, Lydia, and you can explain why you telephoned Heathcliff pretending to be me…’
I returned to the old wing with a spring in my step. The kitchen proved devoid of life which was a blow; it seemed I’d have to go hungry. I headed upstairs and entered my room; the fire was alight, my little dog and cat were on the bed, and a covered tray of game pie, relish, apple, bread and butter and a glass of claret awaited me on the desk. Good old Greggs, ever a stalwart soldier in time of need.
Foggy sat at my feet, Tubbs on my lap and I ate in contented silence. Persi was just as I remembered, her extensive family were a bit of a millstone though, and it didn’t help that I would probably have to finger one of them as a killer…
Chapter 9
‘Lennox?’ Swift arrived with the dawn, holding a lantern.
‘Bit early for breakfast, Swift.’ I’d only just dressed and Greggs hadn’t even brought a cup of tea in yet. ‘Why are you up so early?’
‘I thought we’d go and see if Mullins has caught anyone.’ Keen as ever, he wore his overcoat, scarf and gloves. ‘And the police will be here soon.’
I didn’t share his enthusiasm, but found my shoes and pulled on my shooting jacket. I told my little duo to stay where they were. They didn’t take much persuading, they barely opened their eyes as we left. ‘There are plenty of ex-soldiers in this place, Swift. If they had caught someone they’d keep a tight hold of them.’
‘Yes, but we should examine the crime scene as well.’ Swift was trotting down the pine stairs. ‘Did you bring a torch?’
‘It’s in my pocket.’
We made our way through the St Georges’ old wing. It was entirely vacant, which was hardly a surprise given the ridiculously early hour.
He stopped abruptly. ‘Have you got your magnifying glass?’
‘Swift, stop fussing will you.’
We passed through a procession of state rooms. Misty morning sunlight was sending feeble rays through tall windows. Tired looking footmen were standing about doing nothing in particular.
‘Lennox.’
‘What?’
’Did you speak to Persi last night?’
‘Yes, I asked her to help with the investigation.’
‘What?’ He stopped again. ‘She can’t, she’s related to most of the suspects.’
‘She hasn’t agreed to do it, yet.’ I walked on. I was in no mood to argue, particularly before breakfast.
We entered the grand hall.
‘Hello? What are you doing here?’ Jerome had been in conversation with Mullins, but turned abruptly when he heard our footsteps on the tiles.
Swift ignored him and addressed Mullins. ‘Was anyone caught?’
‘There was nobody, sir,’ Mullins replied, the poor chap looked as though he’d barely slept. ‘A guard was maintained all through the night.’
Jerome was polite but clearly rattled. ‘Inspector Swift, I do wish you’d asked me first.’
Swift wasn’t interested in Jerome’s complaints. ‘Have you called for the police?’
‘Yes, I sent one of the men down to the village.’ Jerome shifted his stance. ‘Look, I… erm. I was up an hour ago, this dreadful episode has been terribly unsettling. I instru
cted a couple of men to check the… well, I’ll show you.’
‘What is it?’ Swift asked sharply.
‘Come with me, please.’ He trotted up the stairs, talking as he went. ‘Sinclair is raging about getting the power on.’
‘Trent is dead,’ Swift snapped. ‘And all Sinclair can do is complain about the inconvenience.’
‘I’m not excusing him, I’m merely explaining.’ He led on up the next flight of stairs.
The upper storey had a less formal air to it, although still sumptuous with gracious portraits, marble sculptures and the like.
‘I’ve had to step in you see, with Trent gone.’ Jerome was still talking, Swift was listening, his eyes dark and narrowed, looking very like the dogged policeman he still was at heart.
‘Mullins seems capable,’ I remarked.
‘He’s always been Lady Penelope’s man.’ Jerome explained.
‘Hum.’ I was quite aware of the vagaries of big house factions and allegiances so I understood what he meant.
‘I thought last night’s incident was probably caused by water leaking into one of the outside lights,’ Jerome explained as we walked. ‘Whenever there’s a bad storm, the leak can be sufficient to cause a short. Trent would switch off the power, change the fuse and all would be well.’
‘Your men have checked the outside lights?’ Swift asked.
‘Yes,’ Jerome replied. ‘They found the cause, it’s in here,’ Jerome opened a door into a formal bedroom. The window was wide open, the sun filtering through the mist. Two liveried footmen stood silently to one side.
‘Whose room is this?’ Swift asked.
‘It’s just for guests.’ Jerome walked straight over to the window and leaned over the sill. ‘That lamp down there, look.’
We looked. About two feet below the window was a large lantern fixed to the stone wall by a metal arm. The bulb was encased in a sealed unit consisting of glass panels. One of the top panels was smashed and open to the elements. We stared at it.
‘How was it broken?’ I asked.
‘We don’t know,’ Jerome replied. ‘I’ll have the men remove it for examination, but I thought you should see it first.’
‘Why is the lid made of glass?’ I asked. I was more familiar with traditional lamps with metal covers.
The Tomb of the Chatelaine: A 1920s Country House Murder Mystery (Heathcliff Lennox Book 6) Page 8