Dying for a Garden Party

by V L McBeath

  “Yes, sir.”

  “You didn’t lock the gate before we came up here. Go back and do it immediately. We don’t want the killer escaping.”

  Eliza shook her head. He’ll be long gone if that was his plan.

  “Right, Mrs Thomson, you come with me. I need to talk to you ladies first to find out what’s been going on here.”

  Sergeant Cooper ushered Eliza past the library and into the drawing room before he followed her in and closed the door behind them. Had she not known those in the drawing room, she would have puzzled over who was the grieving widow. Connie sat to the left-hand side of a settee near the fireplace, her face buried in a handkerchief, while Mrs Hartley sat alongside her with her back straight and face impassive.

  “Now then, ladies, it sounds to me like you have some explaining to do.”

  “Explaining?” Eliza was about to take a chair next to Connie but stopped and stood tall again. “I hope you’re not implying anything by that, Sergeant.”

  “N-No, of course not, but … well, it does seem strange that you were both on the scene so quickly.”

  “My husband and father were on the scene just as quickly, why don’t you ask them to explain themselves?”

  “They wouldn’t… What I mean is, you said you heard the gunshot and went to get them. That means you must have been in the house.”

  “Not necessarily. If you remember, the front window is open; anyone at the front of the house would have heard it.”

  “And were you at the front?”

  Eliza glanced at Connie, who kept her eyes fixed on the Persian rug in the centre of the room. “No.”

  “So you were in the house. What were you doing? I specifically remember telling you it was out of bounds.”

  Connie straightened her back as she stared at the sergeant. “I hope you’re not suggesting we killed Mr Hartley?”

  “No … well, I’m sure… You have to consider everyone as a suspect to start with and it’s most irregular that you were in the house at the time.”

  “It’s not that irregular, Sergeant.” Eliza gave her most sincere smile. “We’d come in to find a lavatory and were just leaving. Isn’t that right, Mrs Appleton?”

  Connie nodded. “That’s right.”

  “All right, that’s enough. I’m sure I don’t need such details.” Sergeant Cooper’s face reddened.

  “But it’s not all right.” Connie glared at the sergeant. “I can’t believe you’d think we’re capable of such a thing.”

  “No, I’m sorry, I don’t, but what about you, Mrs Hartley? How did you get to the office so quickly?”

  Eliza took her seat. “Sergeant, she lives here. She had guests in the garden and was about to go out and meet them. If you heard a shot fired in your house, I’m sure you’d go and investigate.”

  “Why would I kill Edward?” Mrs Hartley’s voice was soft but her eyes were cold.

  The sergeant cleared his throat. “Well … I’m sure I don’t know. That’s what we need to find out.”

  “Sergeant, if I may be so bold, I suggest you ask us what we know about the murder, the timings first of all and then the victim,” Eliza said. “Let’s start by building up a picture of what happened. Then you can determine who had a motive and opportunity to pull the trigger. Remember, like we did last year?”

  The sergeant’s face was a deep shade of red as he fumbled in his breast pocket for his notebook. “Yes, right.”

  “Sergeant, are you in there?” Without warning, Constable Jenkins burst through the door. “Oh, begging your pardon, ladies. I didn’t realise you were in here.”

  Sergeant Cooper regained his authoritative poise. “What is it, laddie?”

  “It’s the gate, Sarge. When I got back, it had been closed and bolted.”

  “Bolted?” Eliza said. “From the inside?”

  “Yes, madam, and with it being nearly ten foot high, it wouldn’t be an easy gate to clamber over.”

  “So, if it wasn’t bolted from the outside, whoever locked it must still be in the grounds?”

  “That’s what it looks like to me.”

  Eliza’s cocked her head to one side. “That doesn’t mean the killer’s still inside. Anyone could have closed it.”

  “I suppose so…” Constable Jenkins’ forehead creased.

  “Constable, why don’t you go and examine the scene of the crime?” Sergeant Cooper said. “Dr Thomson should be nearly finished and we’ll have to move the body. I can take the details down from the ladies.”

  “Right you are.” Constable Jenkins nodded in the general direction of Mrs Hartley and left the room.

  “Right now, where were we?” Sergeant Cooper said. “Yes, Mrs Thomson, can you tell me where you were when the shot was fired.”

  Eliza smiled. “Yes, of course. As I said, Mrs Appleton and I had come inside to use the facilities. We came in the back door near the billiard room but the kitchen looked busy and so we used the servants’ stairs to come upstairs into the nursery area.”

  Mrs Hartley swung her head to Eliza. “Nursery area? We don’t have a nursery.”

  “No, of course, forgive me. I used to live here with my father and at the time I had a nursery in the back corner of the house. My bedroom and the bedroom for Nanny were there as well. It was my little space. I suppose I’m in the habit of thinking that’s how it still is.”

  “So you were in this ‘nursery area’ when the shot went off?” Sergeant Cooper said.

  “Yes, that’s right. At first we weren’t sure what to do but decided it would be safest to get Dr Thomson to find out what had happened rather than come ourselves. The killer could have still been here, you see.”

  “Yes, of course.” Sergeant Cooper scribbled the details into his notebook.

  “I would say that this was shortly after half past two; I remember hearing a clock chime shortly beforehand. Would you agree, Mrs Appleton?”

  Connie didn’t speak until the sergeant looked at her. “Yes, I would. I would say it was about three minutes after we heard the clock.”

  Feeling Mrs Hartley’s eyes boring into her, Eliza turned to her left.

  “Are you sure you were in this so-called nursery section?” Mrs Hartley asked. “There isn’t a clock down there. There’s no need with those rooms being used so infrequently. The only clock on this corridor is near the main staircase opposite the library. I very much doubt you’d hear that from the back of the house.”

  Eliza glanced at Connie and then at the sergeant. “No, forgive me, you’re right. Mrs Appleton and I did come in to use the facilities near the nursery area, but, well with the house being so quiet, I couldn’t resist taking a peek. The place was my home until I was eleven years old, and I suppose curiosity got the better of me. We didn’t walk far, only to the office and back.”

  “So you were near the office when Mr Hartley was killed?” There was a note of triumph in the sergeant’s voice.

  “No, we weren’t.” Eliza’s tone was brusque. “What I told you is true, we were at the door leading back to the nursery when we heard the gunshot, but the clock struck when we were in the kitchen opposite the office.”

  “What were you doing in there?” Panic suddenly crossed Mrs Hartley’s eyes.

  Eliza blushed and bit down on her bottom lip. “We were hiding from you and Mr Hartley.”

  The room fell silent as everyone stared at Eliza. Finally, Sergeant Cooper spoke.

  “So, let me get this straight. Mrs Thomson and Mrs Appleton were in the kitchen opposite the office while Mr and Mrs Hartley were together in the office … minutes before the gentleman was murdered in cold blood.”

  “It’s not what it seems.” Connie’s voice was an octave higher than usual. “We were in there but when we left, Mr Hartley was very much alive; we could hear him talking to someone.”

  “That would be Mrs Hartley then?”

  “No, it wasn’t,” Connie said.

  “No, it wasn’t,” Mrs Hartley echoed. “It was my stepson James,
if you must know.”

  Sergeant Cooper looked from one to the other. “Mrs Thomson, do you want to add anything to that?”

  “I can confirm that Mrs Appleton and I saw a man go into the office when Mrs Hartley was still in there. He arrived shortly before half past two and a minute or so before Mrs Hartley left. It was no more than a minute after that the clock chimed.”

  “That’s right,” Connie said. “We particularly remember the clock because Mrs Hartley had just left the room, and it chimed as we were debating whether to leave ourselves. It frightened the life out of us, I can tell you. Shortly after that we left, but the man was still in the room.

  “And so the gunshot rang out a minute or so after half past?”

  Eliza shook her head. “No, we were in the corridor opposite the dining room, when we thought we heard someone else coming and slipped into the laundry room. I would say we were there for a couple of minutes but when no one appeared we left again. I would guess, taking everything into account, the shot was fired around twenty-five to three.”

  “Would you agree with that, Mrs Hartley?” Sergeant Cooper asked.

  Mrs Hartley’s eyes hadn’t left Eliza while she spoke but now she slowly turned to face the sergeant. “I would say so, yes. Edward and I had had a disagreement about the party and I was upset. I came in here to settle myself before going downstairs. I heard the clock as Mrs Thomson said and then maybe five minutes later the gunshot.”

  “And had you noticed your stepson leave the office in the meantime?”

  Mrs Hartley glanced at Eliza and Connie before answering. “No, Sergeant, I hadn’t.”

  Chapter Five

  The clock by the main stairs chimed for half past three as Sergeant Cooper pushed himself up from his chair.

  “I need to go back to the office. Feel free to go out into the garden, but please don’t mention the murder to the other guests and don’t leave the premises until I give my express permission. And that means you too, Mrs Thomson.”

  “I can assure you, Sergeant, I’ve no intention of going anywhere. I’d like to know what Constable Jenkins has found.”

  “Please, Mrs Thomson, this is a matter for the police now. I can’t let you be involved in the investigation when you’re a key suspect.”

  Eliza choked back a cough. “I’m a what! Oh please, Sergeant, that’s ridiculous. We’ve just told you what happened and all three of us gave the same story. I may have been in the house when I shouldn’t have been, but that doesn’t make me a murderer.”

  “And I was with her and know she’s telling the truth.” Connie glared at the sergeant, who stared down at his shoes.

  “Come along, I need to speak to Archie.” Eliza led the way back to the office, closely followed by Sergeant Cooper and Connie.

  “Are you nearly finished in here?” she asked.

  “Almost. The only thing we need now is to check the bullet size alongside the entry wound.”

  Sergeant Cooper looked over to the constable. “What about you, Jenkins? Is there anything of interest?”

  Constable Jenkins consulted his notebook. “The victim was a male of about sixty years of age … according to Dr Thomson. He was found with a bullet wound to the head, which is the likely cause of death. There were no signs of forced entry into the room, and so the victim probably knew his killer, and there are no signs of a fight.”

  “Have you retrieved the bullet yet?” Eliza asked.

  Constable Jenkins’ eyebrows knitted together. “The bullet? No, I’ve not seen it.”

  “It’s lodged in the side of the bookcase.” Eliza couldn’t hide her irritation. “Have you even looked for the gun?”

  Constable Jenkins did a full turn in the centre of the room. “It doesn’t look like it’s here.”

  “I think we’d all have seen it if it had been left on one of the surfaces. What about looking in the drawers or cupboards?”

  “Let me see.” Constable Jenkins walked to a sideboard and opened the doors. “No, not in there.”

  Sergeant Cooper shook his head. “You dislodge the bullet and I’ll search for the gun.” He strode into the room and opened every drawer and cupboard he could find. After several minutes he arrived at the far side of the desk and opened the left-hand drawer.

  “Ah-ha!” He held a gun up in triumph. “Here we are and some bullets. I’d say this is our murder weapon.”

  Eliza pursed her lips and took a deep breath. “Would you say the bullets for that gun match the one in the bookcase?”

  Sergeant Cooper’s brow creased as he peered down the barrel of the gun.

  “I suggest you get the bullet from the cabinet and check if it fits,” Eliza said.

  “It’s coming, Sarge.” Constable Jenkins knelt on the floor with his penknife prising the bullet from its hold. A moment later he fell backwards as the bullet flipped across the floor.

  Archie stopped it with his foot as it rolled towards him and bent down to retrieve it. “Now, let me see. It’s a good-size bullet and it would certainly be consistent with the size of the wound.” He invited Sergeant Cooper to examine the bullet alongside the entry point. “Can I see the gun?”

  Sergeant Cooper placed the weapon in Archie’s outstretched hand.

  “Where did you learn to cock a gun like that?” Eliza asked Archie as he expertly handled the weapon.

  Archie shrugged. “We just know these things.” He dropped the bullet into the barrel. “There. It’s slightly misshapen, but it fits. We’ll need confirmation, but I would say this is the murder weapon.”

  “Good.” Eliza cast her eyes over it. “Now we need to check it belonged to Mr Hartley and find out who knew it was here.”

  “You can leave that to us, Mrs Thomson. If you, Dr Thomson and Mrs Appleton wouldn’t mind joining the guests in the garden, we’ll be with you as soon as we can.”

  “I need to make arrangements for the body to be collected,” Archie said. “Could you give me a little longer and I’ll follow you out?”

  “What will you do, Sergeant?” Eliza asked.

  Sergeant Cooper rocked backwards and forwards on the balls of his feet. “I think an interview with Mr James Hartley is in order.”

  Eliza smiled. “Yes, that’s a good place to start. The only thing is … and I don’t mean to disagree … but the family haven’t been told about the murder yet and the villagers will be getting restless. It might be worth having a quick word with those in the garden first so they can go home and then you can concentrate on the family. That way you won’t need to rush.”

  “So the locals aren’t waiting around, you mean?”

  “Yes, exactly. It would give you a chance to gather the family together as well.”

  “Yes.” The sergeant nodded to himself. “I was going to suggest that. Constable Jenkins, can you ask the family to join us in the drawing room at five o’clock, while I talk to the guests?”

  “Yes, sir.” The constable was about to leave the room when he stopped. “Where will I find them?”

  Sergeant Cooper stared at Eliza. “Would you have any idea?”

  Eliza pursed her lips. “I must admit, I’ve not seen any of the family this afternoon, other than Mrs Hartley … and Mr James Hartley obviously, although that was only through a crack in the door. Perhaps they decided to mix with the guests and we’ll find them in the garden too?”

  “Yes, right, that’s where they must be. Let’s go … and leave the talking to me,” Sergeant Cooper said.

  “Are you all right?” Eliza asked Connie as they walked down the main staircase.

  “I’ve felt better.”

  “Of course.” Eliza squeezed her friend’s hand. “As soon as we see a maid, I’ll get you some punch. It was rather nice.”

  By the time they arrived in the garden, Eliza feared that half the guests had already left, but she found several of them, including Lord and Lady Harrington-Smyth, sitting in the marquee.

  “Goodness, it’s warm in here.” She helped herself to two glasse
s of punch and handed one to Connie.

  “It was unbearable standing out in the sun,” Lady Harrington-Smyth said. “I must say, we tried to leave half an hour ago, but the gate’s been locked and nobody from the family has had the courtesy to show their faces.”

  “They haven’t?” Eliza took a sip of her drink. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to go and report that to Constable Jenkins. There’s been a bit of an incident, you see, and so if you could just wait in here, I’ll ask the sergeant to come and speak to you.”

  Five minutes later with Constable Jenkins dispatched back to the house, the villagers had been gathered together on two hastily arranged rows of chairs near the back of the marquee. Sergeant Cooper stood near the entrance, fidgeting with his notebook before he cleared his throat to get their attention.

  “Now then, ladies and gentlemen. Mrs Hartley sends her apologies that she hasn’t been down to see you, but there’s been an … incident … at the house.”

  “Well, it had better be a good one,” Lord Harrington-Smyth said. “We’ve been standing in this ghastly sun for over an hour and there’s no way of leaving. They’ve locked us in.”

  There was murmuring amongst the other guests, but the sergeant held up his hands for quiet.

  “I’m sure I understand, but … well … there’s been a shooting.”

  “There’ll be another one soon if you don’t tell us what’s been going on.” His Lordship’s already ruddy complexion turned a deeper red. “I’ve already got my gun loaded for the shoot tomorrow.”

  “No, it’s not like that, sir,” Eliza said. “The thing is, the gun was pointed at Mr Hartley … and he’s dead.”

  “Dead…!” Lord Harrington-Smyth’s words were cut short as his lady wife collapsed into his arms. He stepped backwards as she fell, almost dropping her on the floor. “For goodness’ sake, woman. Pull yourself together. Will someone come and get her?”

  The vicar was on his feet marking himself with the sign of the cross. “I can’t believe this has happened again. What has the world come to?”

  “Archie, do something.” Eliza hurried to help the vicar lay Lady Harrington-Smyth on the ground. “The poor woman may have heatstroke on top of everything else. Here, I always carry these in my handbag.”