by Clara Benson
‘I think that torch is about to go out,’ she said.
As she spoke, it did exactly that, and everything went black. There was a significant pause.
‘Why are we standing here in the dark?’ said Freddy at last.
‘I don’t know,’ whispered Iris.
‘Perhaps we ought to get out.’
‘Yes, perhaps we ought.’
‘You go first.’
‘All right,’ she said, but did not move.
She smelt of fresh spring flowers. Dutifully, he tried again.
‘I don’t think old Ralph would be particularly happy to know you were skulking in a linen cupboard with me,’ he said.
‘No, he wouldn’t, would he? I expect he’d be awfully cross,’ she replied. ‘You won’t tell him, will you?’
‘No,’ he said.
There was another pause, then she giggled.
Afterwards, when his head had stopped spinning and he was able to think about it clearly, he was almost sure it was she who had started it. But whether she had or not, certain it was that she participated in the kiss with quite as much enthusiasm as he, wrapping her arms tightly about his neck in a manner which left no doubt that she had put Ralph entirely out of her mind for the present. It was undoubtedly disgraceful behaviour on the part of both of them, and how long they would have continued cannot be said; perhaps fortunately, however, circumstances intervened to spare them the necessity of making the decision themselves, for all at once the cupboard door opened, the darkness lifted and there came a loud shriek. Freddy and Iris broke apart instantly, and for a second Freddy had a confused impression of a sea of horrified faces staring at them. Then his brain began distinguishing things properly, and he saw the housekeeper and the maid he had helped earlier, staring at them both in astonishment—and behind them Daphne, who—of all the rotten luck—had evidently been passing the cupboard at that very moment. Freddy’s heart sank, but before he could say anything Iris gave an appalled squeak and made a bolt for it. Daphne watched her go, then turned her face back to Freddy with a questioning expression. There was nothing he could say to explain himself, so he said nothing, and after a moment Daphne stuck her nose in the air and stalked off with great dignity.
‘I beg your pardon, sir,’ said the housekeeper stiffly. ‘I had no idea anybody was in here.’
The little housemaid was gazing steadily at the floor, and looked for all the world as though she were trying not to laugh.
‘Oh—er—no, quite, what?’ he said. The remark was perhaps feeble in the circumstances, but a fuller explanation was obviously impossible, and so he stepped out of the cupboard and prepared to retreat without further ado. Just then he remembered the sash weight and turned back.
‘I forgot, I need this,’ he said. He took down the sheet with the weight inside it. ‘By the way, I should avoid touching that pile of sheets on the top shelf if I were you,’ he added. ‘The police will probably want to look at them.’
Then he headed towards the stairs, feeling the eyes of the two servants boring into his back as he went.
The police had arrived, which gave Freddy a good excuse to avoid the company of the other guests for a while. Inspector Trubshaw seemed to waver between interest at the story of the second passage and the sash weight, and annoyance at the fact that Freddy had disobeyed his instructions to leave the investigation to the police.
‘You ought to have come and found us, sir,’ he said. ‘We’d have taken care of it all. And you really ought to have left the weight where it was.’
‘Yes, I dare say you’re right,’ said Freddy. ‘But I’m afraid I brought it out without thinking. And as for the secret passage, I found that quite accidentally. I was all for coming to tell you, but unfortunately one of the other guests was with me at the time, and she insisted on exploring the passage straightaway.’ Having thrown the blame onto Iris without compunction, he went on, ‘I don’t know whether you’ve ever tried saying no to a woman, inspector, but if you have you’ll know it’s not as easy as it sounds.’
‘That’s all very well,’ said Trubshaw, ‘but you might have destroyed any evidence that was on the weight by bringing it out.’
‘I’ve been very careful with it,’ said Freddy. ‘And it was lying under a pile of sheets, so any marks would most likely have rubbed off anyway. But as you can see, there are one or two suggestive stains on it, and I expect you’ll find more traces in the linen cupboard.’
‘Hmm,’ said Trubshaw, peering at the weight. ‘Yes, I’d better send one of the men up now before the servants start messing about with everything and destroy the evidence.’
‘I don’t know where the second passage comes in,’ said Freddy, ‘but I suppose it does open up other possibilities.’
‘Yes,’ said Trubshaw. ‘We shall have to give them some thought. But next time, if you find any evidence, I’d be obliged if you’d come straight to us with it.’
‘Of course,’ said Freddy.
He left the study and went into the morning-room, where he found Iris sitting with Ralph and talking gaily as though butter would not melt in her mouth. She barely glanced at Freddy, who decided it would be politic to spend the morning out of doors. He wondered how long it would be before the story was all around the house. Given how quickly the news of the missing pearls had spread, he judged it would not be long. He hoped nobody would tell Ralph about it. Ralph was not exactly the sort to biff a chap on the nose when offended, but he was the sort to make long, injured speeches, which would be both awkward and dull. Still, even if Ralph never found out, there was still Daphne to contend with. Freddy felt a twinge of guilt here. He hoped he had not hurt her feelings too much. There had never been anything serious between them, but there was no denying that it was the height of bad manners to invite a girl on a visit to one’s grand relations, only to embarrass her by being caught misbehaving in a cupboard with another girl entirely. He should not have blamed Daphne if she declared she never wanted to see him again. Sooner or later he should have to face her, but he was cowardly enough to wish to avoid her for now.
It was a fine spring day and the weather was warm for the time of year, so Freddy decided to head down towards the lake and sit there for a while. The grass was dry, so he threw himself down in a comfortable spot and lay with his hands behind his head, staring idly up at the sky and thinking about what he had learned that morning. What did the discovery of this second secret passage mean? Did it make Dr. Bachmann’s guilt any more likely? Say he had been in the library when the professor had come out of the passage with the pearls. Had he murdered Coddington then taken his torch and come up through the secret passage and out through the cupboard, then shown his face in the West Wing while everybody was still out of their rooms? That would certainly explain why the professor had not been carrying a torch when he was found.
Freddy set himself to think it out carefully, and very shortly came to the conclusion that there were several objections to that theory. First: he had seen no torch in Bachmann’s hand—although it was always possible that he had left it somewhere. Second: the timing was all wrong. Ro had screamed at ten past three or thereabouts, whereupon Professor Coddington had escaped into the passage. If one allowed ten minutes for the professor to get from Ro’s room to the library (or seven at the very least if he was sprinting, although he had not been an agile man), another couple of minutes for the murder, and another seven to ten minutes for Bachmann to run back through the passage and out into the linen cupboard, that made fifteen minutes at the outside, and more likely twenty. In other words, he could not possibly have arrived back upstairs before twenty-five past three—and yet Freddy had seen him with his own eyes standing with the other guests outside Ro’s room at twenty past three and perhaps even earlier, with no sign of being out of breath. Third: how could Bachmann have known that Coddington was planning to steal the pearls and escape through the secret passage? Unl
ess they had been in league together—but no, that was unlikely given their enmity. However Freddy looked at it, none of it made sense.
He sat up. He was looking at the thing all wrong, he was sure of it. He felt in his pocket for a notebook and set himself to writing down all the facts as they were known. Then he read over what he had written. It was rather unsatisfactory.
3.10
Ro sees Prof. C in her room and screams
3.10-3.20
Several guests out of bed. The only people not to come out are Bea and Cynthia P-S
3.25
Corridor quiet again except for FP-S and Goose. Ro comes out and reports pearls missing
3.30-3.40
FP-S and Goose go through secret passage and find Prof. C dead with the pearls in his hand
3.25-3.55
Nugs goes downstairs again. He sees nobody (although in study between 3.35 and 3.55 so might have missed the whole thing)
He frowned. Perhaps he ought to put down the sequence of events leading up to the scream. He added:
2.00
FP-S and Nugs up
2.05
FP-S and Nugs go down to study
2.15
Goose joins party in study
2.35
Joke suggested. FP-S, Nugs and Goose return upstairs
2.35-3.10
Preparation of dummy in FP-S’s room
Then as an afterthought:
2.50 (or thereabouts)
Goose runs down to library to fetch torch.
Freddy paused and stared at this last entry for some time as he realized its significance. Why had Goose not seen anybody loitering about when he went down to the library? It must have been very soon after that that the professor had gone into the secret passage, so why had Goose not seen any sign of him when he came downstairs? Freddy made a note to question him more closely about it, for it seemed to him that here was an important clue, although he had no idea what it meant at present.
He looked at his notes again, willing something to leap out at him. He was sure he was missing something. What was it, now? The pearls, perhaps? There was no reason to believe the professor had taken them out of anything other than impertinent curiosity—but there again was the fact that, as Nugs had pointed out, he had gone ahead with the theft even after Ro had raised the alarm. That did not sound like the actions of an innocent man. But in turn the objection to that was that the pearls had supposedly been exchanged some weeks or even months earlier—which was the reason for the professor’s having taken them in the first place.
Freddy sighed. He was beginning to think he was going mad, and that he ought to leave it all to the police, who surely knew what they were doing and would be able to find out things he could not. It was getting towards lunch-time, so he walked slowly back up the slope towards the garden. Then he stopped as he saw someone standing watching him by the garden gate. It was Daphne. She started forward as he approached, and he drew a deep breath and went to take his punishment. When they met she said nothing, but merely looked at him as though awaiting an explanation.
‘I’m sorry, it was all my fault,’ he said dutifully. It was the only thing he could say in the circumstances.
‘I only hope you’re pleased with yourself,’ she said. ‘You’ve got what you wanted and she’s got what she wanted, so let’s not worry about trampling all over anybody else’s feelings, shall we? After all, nobody else matters as long as you’re happy.’
She spoke calmly and with dignity, which only made him feel worse.
‘It wasn’t like that,’ he began, but she went on without listening:
‘I suppose I ought to have expected it, since it was perfectly obvious what she was up to. She’s been watching you like a hawk since you arrived. I’m only surprised she didn’t pounce sooner.’
‘I say, don’t blame Iris,’ he said. ‘It was nothing to do with her.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous. She wasn’t exactly fighting you off, was she? In fact, I’ll bet she manoeuvred you into it. Look here, it’s not as though I didn’t know exactly what you’re like, so this is hardly unexpected, but you might at least have had the decency not to humiliate me by doing it at Belsingham, of all places. You know half the people here think I’m beneath them, including your mother—oh, don’t bother to deny it, she makes it very clear—so I should have thought you might have been gentleman enough to restrain yourself and not make things any worse.’
There were tears in her eyes, and Freddy felt a worm.
‘And the servants saw too, so it’s not even as though we can keep it quiet,’ she said. ‘It’ll be all over the house by now. I’d like to know what Ralph will say when he finds out.’
‘I should imagine Iris will see to it that he doesn’t,’ said Freddy dryly.
‘Perhaps. But if he does then she’ll let you take the blame for it all. And you will, too.’
This was true, and he did not bother to deny it.
‘Look, I am sorry, Daph,’ he said. ‘You’re right, of course. It was beastly of me, and I have no excuse for it.’
‘No, you don’t. You’re being a fool over her, you know. She’ll only lead you a merry dance. She’s found herself lumbered with a dull stick, and she wants a little fun and excitement before she gets married and has to give it all up. She doesn’t really want you—she’s just using you.’
Freddy did not want to think about that possibility.
She went on suddenly:
‘I only wish the police would let us go away, then I could leave quietly and not have to slink around the house worrying that everybody is pointing at me and saying they knew this sort of thing would happen because I’m a poor tea-merchant’s daughter rather than a Lady Somebody.’
‘Listen, you’re to stop talking in that way,’ said Freddy. ‘It doesn’t matter two hoots what you are or aren’t. Nobody cares about titles.’
‘You might not, but everybody else does,’ said Daphne. ‘Lavinia does. She’d be simply thrilled if I married someone with a title, but I’m sick of it all, I tell you. I’m sick of the formality, and the precedence, and worrying whether I ought to say Duchess or your Grace. It’s all nonsense. And it’s dangerous, too. Do you think Professor Coddington would have been murdered if the Duke had still been plain Mr. Wareham? Of course he wouldn’t! None of this would have happened, because there’d have been no fabulously valuable heirlooms to steal. I wish I’d never come here. I’d go back to London now if I could.’
‘I’m sorry you feel like that,’ said Freddy. ‘I expect they’ll let us go soon, but they’re still collecting evidence.’
‘And they’ve been searching people’s rooms, too. All this is bad enough, without having one’s things rifled through.’
The luncheon-bell rang just then, slightly to Freddy’s relief.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said again. It was all he could say, for any attempt to excuse himself would have been hollow, and they both knew it.
She gave him one last reproachful look and hurried away, and he followed slowly, reflecting that he had got off lightly, all things considered. But he soon found out that he was wrong in his assumption, for after lunch Bea button-holed him and requested a word in a manner not to be denied.
‘What’s all this I hear about you and Iris?’ she demanded crossly, once they were alone. ‘Mrs. Bates came to me in a great state saying she’d found you both doing who knows what in the l
inen cupboard.’
‘Who knows what?’ said Freddy indignantly. ‘We were only kissing. It was all perfectly innocent.’
‘Innocent, indeed! In case you’ve forgotten, she is engaged to Ralph. Now, it’s none of my business what anybody gets up to in their own home, but I should like to remind you that you’re under our roof at present, and as such you’re expected to behave. Mrs. Bates is getting quite tired of bumping into you at awkward moments. She’s a nervy sort at the best of times, and I should hate for her to give notice.’
‘I’m sorry,’ he said, for what felt like the twentieth time that day. ‘It wasn’t intentional, I assure you. It all happened on the spur of the moment. We found another secret passage, you see, and we wanted to know where it went. That’s why we were in the cupboard.’
‘Another secret passage?’ said Bea. ‘Oh, yes, of course. I thought the door of that one had seized up long ago.’
‘It seems not,’ said Freddy. ‘Anyway, we went through it and came back, and then—I don’t know. It was a silly thing, really. I know I oughtn’t to have done it. I don’t know what got into me.’
Bea unbent a little and regarded him with some sympathy.
‘If you still like her then why don’t you try and win her back?’ she said. ‘The wedding isn’t for six weeks yet.’
‘Because it wouldn’t work,’ he said. ‘She wants something I’m not. Ralph’s a dry old thing but at least she can rely on him. I—well, you know. I’m not exactly a model of self-control, am I? I can never help getting into scrapes.’
‘Scrapes, you call them,’ she said, amused. ‘Yes, I suppose you could call this morning’s adventure a scrape.’
‘She’d be unhappy, and I’d have to spend my life abasing myself and begging pardon. She’s much better off with Ralph.’