‘Fetch me the papers now. No, don’t ring for them. Get them yourself.’
‘I say,‘ said Daniel, rallying a little, ‘I really must protest, Lady Belvedere, at your speaking to my sister in that manner.’
Priscilla did not wait to hear Rose’s response, for already she was out of the room and halfway up the stairs.
‘Listen to me, Mr Belling,’ Rose said firmly, lowering her voice. ‘Your sister is a thief and, for all I know, may well have committed treason. Her only hope is for me to return the papers before they are discovered to be in her possession. It is important no one else knows she ever had them, not even her maid.’
Daniel was silent a moment reflecting on the wisdom of her words. He got up and walked over to the window. Looking out into the street he spoke, his back turned towards her.
‘What I don’t understand,’ he said, ‘is why she would do such a thing.’
‘I imagine it had something to do with settling your gambling debts,’ said Rose, observing him keenly.
‘You said they didn’t play by the rules,’ said Priscilla.
Neither of them had heard the girl return. They turned and saw her now standing on the threshold of the room, half leaning against the door jamb, her arms thrust out in front of her. Her hands grasped a parcel, inelegantly tied in brown paper as if the task had been done in haste. Priscilla glanced down at the package in disdain. When she spoke, it was in short, hurried sentences, her voice becoming more shrill with each word spoken.
‘The people to whom you owed money. You told me they weren’t gentlemen. You said they wouldn’t stop at punching a fellow.’
She allowed the parcel to slip from her hands. It landed with a thud on the floor, but she appeared not to notice, for she did not stoop to pick it up. Instead, a moment later she was standing beside her brother, her hand on his arm, searching his eyes for something akin to forgiveness.
‘Oh, Daniel, I was dreadfully afraid what they might do to you. I was almost sick with the worry of it all. Looking back I wonder whether my mind didn’t become a little unhinged. You dropped this.’ She produced a scrap of paper from her pocket and handed it to him. ‘It fell out of your breast pocket.’
‘Good heavens!’ cried Daniel, staring down at it. ‘Tell me, Priscilla, you didn’t pay a call on this fellow?’
‘What else could I do?’ his sister said, turning her face away from him. ‘I was absolutely desperate and, as it happens,’ she said, with a grim smile, ‘he was rather nice to me. You know, awfully polite in a rather sickening way. In fact, he seemed quite delighted to see me.’ She lowered her gaze, staring at a patch of the rug, as if it held for her a peculiar fascination. ‘I suppose I caught him in the process of trying to formulate a plan to obtain those papers.’ She laughed, though it was far from a pleasant sound. ‘I daresay he thought I was the answer to his difficulties. He told me all your debts would be cleared if I managed to secure the papers for him. Though I hated myself like poison, what else could I do but agree?’
Daniel sunk down on to a chair and held his head in his hands. Priscilla regarded the wretched figure for a moment and then turned her gaze on Rose.
‘What do you intend to do?’
‘I shall return these papers to Commander Wrenfield,’ Rose said, picking up the parcel. ‘I don’t doubt he’ll be awfully curious as to how I came to acquire them. But,’ she said, speaking slowly, ‘I don’t intend to tell him, if that is what is worrying you?’
‘Are you saying I won’t be arrested for the theft?’ Priscilla stared at her in disbelief. Even Daniel raised his head and looked at her, seemingly not fully comprehending what she had said.
‘I don’t see what good it’ll do,’ said Rose. ‘While I don’t condone your actions, Miss Belling, I at least understand what led to them.’
‘Then I won’t be punished for what I have done?’
‘No,’ Rose said, her voice suddenly becoming more serious, her gaze including the young man slouched in the chair. ‘Unless, of course, I find that you had a hand in the murder of Miss Casters. In which case, I shall do everything in my power to bring you to justice.’
Chapter Thirty
Her own words still ringing in her ears, Rose left the Bellings and returned to Kingsley House, the scruffy parcel clasped tightly under her arm. Informed by Manning that Commander Wrenfield was in The Retreat with the chief inspector, she retired hurriedly to her boudoir after requesting that a sheet of brown paper and string be brought to her without delay.
Disposing carefully of the old and rather tattered paper, she dusted each page of the stolen papers, bundled them up, and hastily rewrapped them in the fresh sheet of brown paper, which she tied securely with the new piece of string. Having completed the task to her satisfaction, she stood back to admire her handiwork, content in the knowledge that no incriminating evidence remained to connect the package with Priscilla Belling.
The look on Commander Wrenfield’s face was quite a picture when she handed him the parcel and revealed to him its contents. For a few minutes the great man was at a loss for words as he tore open the paper and examined the document, reassuring himself that not a page was missing. He was less pleased, however, when Rose refused to divulge the identity of the thief.
‘I gave my word that I wouldn’t reveal his name. It was the only way I could secure the safe return of these papers,’ Rose said, a trifle mendaciously. ‘Besides, he was really little more than a go-between. It’s the other man you should really be after.’ She produced the scrap of paper that had fallen from Daniel’s pocket, and which his sister had picked up. ‘He’s the man who organised the crime or at least instructed the thief to steal the papers.’
The commander looked at the slip of paper and grunted.
‘We thought this fellow might have had a hand in this business; it’s in his line all right. Still, we’ve no evidence to convict him now, thanks to this thief of yours. We could have caught him in the act of receiving stolen goods, if nothing else.’
‘Well, that can’t be helped,’ said Rose, somewhat brusquely. ‘Your papers have been returned to you, which I imagine was your main concern. And as for the fellow you’re referring to, couldn’t you arrange for a watch to be kept on his premises? If he’s the type of man you say he is, he will invariably make a blunder sooner or later.’
‘We could do that,’ confirmed Commander Wrenfield, a little grudgingly.
‘Anyway, it seems to me you have a far greater worry,’ said Rose. ‘Hasn’t it struck you as rather odd that this man managed to find out about your meeting in the first place? After all, you went to very great lengths to keep it a secret. If you don’t mind my saying, Commander, it seems to me that someone in your department must have told him.’
Commander Wrenfield frowned and then nodded.
‘Well I’ll admit we’ve had our suspicions about one particular fellow, which is one of the reasons I had young Atherton assigned to my department in case he was required to replace him in a hurry. We didn’t have anything tangible as such on this fellow, but he’s been asking too many questions about the papers for my liking. Still, now we know this other fellow’s involved,’ he said, holding up the slip of paper, ‘I don’t doubt he’ll give up the other one sooner or later in an attempt to save his own skin.’
‘You’ll be able to kill two birds with one stone,’ Rose remarked, with a smile.
Commander Wrenfield refrained from further comment, though he continued to look a little disgruntled. The same could not be said, however, for his colleague, who was positively grinning from ear to ear.
‘Well I never, your ladyship!’ said the chief inspector. ‘It seems you’ve worked your magic once again. You needn’t take no notice of Wrenfield, here. He’s just put out because he didn’t find the papers himself. Now, all you’ve got to do is identify our murderer and you’ll have something almost as good as a hat trick. And as for me, I’m not too proud to say yes to a bit of help.’
‘I only wish I
could oblige,’ said Rose, deflating a little. She walked over to the door to satisfy herself that it was indeed firmly closed. Only then did she return to her chair and sit down. ‘Is there any news?’
‘I’m afraid not, your ladyship, not to say we aren’t hopeful, because we are,’ said the policeman. ‘Now, it seems to me that we’ve got our list of suspects, them who heard that Miss Crabbe had something to tell you. In my mind, we ought to gather them together and see if the murderer won’t give himself away. It’ll certainly rattle him, if nothing else, having to sit in the room with the others. He’ll be imagining everyone looking at him. I’ve seen many a criminal lose his head and go to pieces under such conditions.’
‘I suppose it might work,’ said Rose, not totally convinced by the chief inspector’s reasoning. ‘If only we knew what Miss Crabbe meant to tell me.’ She furrowed her brow in concentration. ‘If I remember rightly, she told our butler that she’d remembered something that might be important, though she didn’t know how it could be, seeing as it didn’t make any sense.’
‘Well,’ said the chief inspector, scratching his head ‘that’s about as clear as mud. It’s a pity she couldn’t have told what she knew straight out on the telephone and been done with it. Still, I suppose she weren’t to know that she’d be attacked. Saying that, I wouldn’t let Mrs Innes walk about in the dark by herself. It’s only asking for trouble.’
‘I wonder what it could be that Miss Crabbe remembered that didn’t make any sense,’ mused Rose.
‘Well,’ said the commander, putting his annoyance aside and evidently thinking it was time to contribute to the conversation, ‘I, for one, think there’s a good chance this thief of yours you’re so fond of protecting, your ladyship, could be our murderer. He certainly had the opportunity to do the deed, aye, and the motive too if Miss Casters happened to come upon him in the gardener’s shed while he was changing out of his thief’s outfit.’
‘I assure you, commander, that should I discover the thief is also the murderer, I’ll gladly give up his name,’ said Rose. ‘In fact, I said the very same thing to him.’
‘Did you, indeed, your ladyship?’ said the chief inspector, looking surprised, ‘Well, I do hope you haven’t put him on his guard.’
There were a few minutes of silence, with those present lost in their own private contemplations, when all that could be heard was the ticking of the clock on the mantlepiece.
‘Well,’ said the chief inspector, ‘I know something that wouldn’t make any sense if it were true.’
Both his companions looked at him enquiringly.
‘Suppose it was Mrs Franklin who accompanied her husband to the ball and not the deceased? Though why they would change costumes afterwards when they’d be required to remove their masks, I don’t know.’
‘No,’ said Rose thoughtfully, ‘I don’t think it could be that. I can’t see how it would have been in anyone’s interests for the deception to have been discovered. And knowing the type of person Miss Crabbe was, I can’t help thinking that what struck her was something very simple.’
She allowed her thoughts to drift back to the masquerade ball and every aspect of its dramatic aftermath, from the various conversations she had engaged in or overheard, to her observations concerning the main players. The numerous fragments floated into her mind like leaves carried on a breeze, swirling and merging with one another, some to disappear, others to remain to become clearer and more vivid. Eventually, all that remained was one stark, isolated image.
Had she but known, it was the same image that had impelled Miss Crabbe to sit up abruptly in her bed, causing her heart to beat rapidly, her breathing to become very fast and a thin layer of moisture to cover her brow.
The chief inspector chose the following morning to gather together the various suspects in the murder case, keen to put his theory to the test that the murderer would go to pieces. Rose was less confident of the likely success of this approach. To her mind, the murderer had shown too much cunning to lose his head and betray himself. As for her various theories, they still seemed raw and undeveloped in her mind. However, of one thing she was certain. Her evidence at best was of rather a flimsy nature. It would therefore be necessary to obtain a confession. Though this thought made her a little despondent, she contented herself with the fact that they still held an ace up their sleeve.
It had been decided that they should congregate in the small drawing room at Kingsley House. Of those present, some had come unwillingly, annoyed at having been summoned. Others appeared apprehensive. All, without exception, showed signs of curiosity.
For some reason, the visitors had given the room something of an intimate, almost cluttered, feel even though they had assembled themselves into three distinct groups, at a slight distance apart, each eyeing the other two groups suspiciously.
Lavinia, who might well have been expected to have been looking at her ease in the familiar setting, and even enjoying the spectacle, was strangely sullen, visibly put out by Raymond Franklin’s presence. She reclined languidly on one sofa, an elegant elbow resting on the arm, the fingers of her hand idly tousling her glossy curls. Beside her sat Iris Franklin, her demeanour very similar to what it had been on the occasion when she had visited Kingsley House and first made Hallam Atherton’s acquaintance. For again she gave the impression of being detached from her surroundings, her thoughts elsewhere. Hallam had perched himself on the sofa arm beside her. Every now and then he threw worried little glances at her, as if he feared the ordeal of being in the same room as her husband would be too much for Iris to bear.
Priscilla Belling and her brother Daniel sat on a settee quite a distance removed from the others. Of all those present, they looked the most anxious, with Priscilla giving the commander odd, little furtive glances, as if she thought at any minute he might arrest her for the theft of the stolen papers. Raymond Franklin would have sat isolated and alone if Rose and Cedric had not seen fit to draw up their chairs beside him. Rose watched as her husband leaned forward and touched Raymond’s arm in a reassuring gesture. The man, however, seemed oblivious to this act of kindness. His eyes, and indeed his thoughts, were trained solely on his wife, who was doing her best not to meet his gaze.
Commander Wrenfield and the chief inspector, the last to make-up the assembly, had positioned themselves in front of the grand marble fireplace, ostensibly in charge of the proceedings. Indeed, having cleared his throat in rather a noisy and self-conscious fashion, Chief Inspector Innes began to speak.
‘My lord, ladies and gentlemen,’ he began rather pompously, ‘I have gathered you here together because you all have something in common. You are our suspects in the murder of Miss Casters.’
‘And of the lady’s maid, of course,’ the commander added, rather gruffly.
‘Aye, and in the murder of that lady too,’ said the policeman hurriedly, grimacing briefly at his oversight. ‘In fact, it’s because you all knew, or might have known,’ he added quickly, looking at Iris, ‘that Miss Crabbe had remembered something she thought important enough to consult Lady Belvedere about, that you’re here now.’ He paused a moment to glance again in Iris’ direction. ‘If you don’t mind my saying, Mrs Franklin, it’s an awful pity you kept your lady’s maid fully occupied all evening. If she hadn’t ventured out after dark, happen she’d still be here with us now.’
‘I didn’t know she intended to come here,’ Iris said a little peevishly.
‘Of course she didn’t,’ Hallam said, indignant on her behalf. ‘You’ve no right to talk to Mrs Franklin in that way, Chief Inspector.’
‘Well, I didn’t mean to cause offence, I’m sure,’ muttered the policeman. ‘But the fact remains that it was unfortunate and, because of it, the poor lady was attacked.’
‘Exactly why have you called us here, Chief Inspector?’ Raymond said, trying yet again, but still in vain, to catch his wife’s eye. ‘Is it simply to make some petty observations, or do you have something in particular to tell us?’
/> ‘Perhaps the chief inspector has identified the murderer,’ volunteered Daniel Belling, ignoring the fierce glare cast on him by his sister. ‘Have you assembled us here, Chief Inspector, in order that you might make an arrest?’
‘Well, no,’ muttered the policeman, lowering his gaze a fraction. A moment later and he was looking at Rose. ‘Lady Belvedere …’ he began and faltered, as if he did not know quite how to finish his sentence.
Rose, however, picked up the baton and stood up. An astute observer might have noticed that her hand was shaking slightly, for she was not absolutely certain of her facts, or indeed, that her theory could be proved. Nevertheless, she took a deep breath and said in a crisp voice, which seemed to her to echo unnervingly around the room:
‘Yes, of course that’s why you’ve all been summoned here. For no other purpose than to arrest the murderer.’
Chapter Thirty-one
The boldness of Rose’s statement was met with sharp intakes of breath and gasps of astonishment.
‘Are you saying you know who the murderer is?’ demanded Hallam, the first among the visitors to regain his equanimity, conscious that he was asking the question that hovered on everyone’s lips.
‘Yes,’ Rose said simply, aware that she was committing herself and would, indeed, be required to qualify her statement.
The effect of her single word upon her audience was startling. Every face, without exception, was turned towards her, each one revealing a mixture of apprehension and astonishment. On one face she thought she detected the first inklings of fear.
‘It is rather difficult to know exactly where to start,’ she said. ‘By that, I mean, to determine what is the beginning.’
Almost unconsciously she had walked towards the fireplace. The commander and the chief inspector, who had been standing together, parted and stood aside for her. They placed themselves at opposite ends of the hearth in order that Rose might take up position centre stage. She turned and faced her audience. With every word she spoke, she was aware of her growing confidence.
Murder at the Masquerade Ball Page 29