He turned to de Silva. ‘Well, Inspector, you’ve seen the best and the worst I have to offer you. I take it you’d like to speak to my wife’s nephew before wrapping things up?’
De Silva nodded.
‘I’m sure I don’t have to tell you to be tactful. Damned awful thing to happen to a chap. He seems to be coping but it’s hard to work out if that’s just skin deep, and to know how to help. Lady Caroline has taken a great liking to him and she’s doing her best, but Wynne-Talbot’s been acquainted with us for such a short time. To a certain extent, we probably still seem like strangers.’
‘You think he may feel that?’
‘I wouldn’t be surprised.’ He shrugged. ‘My wife won’t hear a word against him, and she’s also delighted to have the succession restored to the direct line of the family, but as far as I’m concerned, it cuts both ways.’ He levelled a serious look at them. ‘I rely on what I’m about to tell you not going any further, gentlemen. Are we agreed?’
Clutterbuck and de Silva nodded. Clutterbuck spoke for both of them. ‘Of course, sir.’
‘Then I’ll tell you that the future Lord Axford came as a bit of a surprise, and charming as he is, I still haven’t quite fathomed him.’
From what de Silva knew of Petrie, it didn’t surprise him that he took a more cautious view of the new addition to the family than his warm-hearted wife.
‘Granted he’s had a pretty unconventional life for a member of a blue-blooded family,’ Petrie went on. ‘My wife’s eldest brother, Lionel, should have inherited the earldom, but he fell out with my father-in-law, the present earl. Lionel went to Australia twenty-five years ago and my father-in-law disinherited him. He left everything to his other son, Marcus, but then Marcus was killed in the Great War. He had no children.’
A fly landed on a few grains of sugar that had been spilt on the table and started to feed. Petrie brushed it off before continuing.
‘The Axford title must pass down the male line, so the heir was then a distant cousin of my wife’s. My father-in-law disapproved of the title and the property being separated, so he left all of the Axford estates to the cousin too.’
William Petrie cleared his throat before resuming. ‘But losing both his sons hit my father-in-law hard. As he grew older, he bitterly regretted the rift with Lionel and wanted them to be reconciled, thus restoring him as the next heir to the title and estates. Sadly, by the time he came to that decision, it proved impossible to find Lionel.’
De Silva frowned as he assimilated this information.
‘However, my father-in-law didn’t entirely give up hope,’ Petrie continued. ‘He altered the provisions of his will to provide that if Lionel, or any of his male issue, were found by the time the will took effect, in other words by the time of my father-in-law’s death, they would inherit in place of the cousin. Regrettably, as time went by, that eventuality seemed more and more unlikely.’
De Silva usually discounted most of the beliefs many of his countrymen held about arousing the anger of the gods, but he couldn’t help thinking that the Wynne-Talbot family had been very unlucky in their family affairs. Perhaps the services of a good astrologer would have helped them avoid some of their bad decisions and the consequences that flowed from them. ‘Am I right in thinking that Mr Ralph Wynne-Talbot is Lionel’s son?’ he asked.
‘Yes. In the early years after Lionel left England, my wife had occasional contact with him and his wife, but eventually the letters stopped, so we were very surprised when we heard from Ralph a few months ago. He explained that his father had been dead for several years, but his mother had only recently died. She’d always been against making contact with the family. Apparently, Lionel had suffered with mental problems for a long time and she blamed his father’s rejection of him for that.’
Another fly landed on the table and he batted it away with distaste. He looked round for a servant. ‘Clean this up,’ he barked irritably. His forehead puckered. ‘Where was I?’
‘You were speaking of Mr Wynne-Talbot’s late mother, sir.’
‘Ah yes. The upshot of it is that, as she was dying, she relented and told him that if he wanted to find his family, he had her blessing. She’d kept some of the letters Lady Caroline wrote to Lionel and she gave them to Ralph. Starting from there, he found out that we were living in Ceylon. As my wife is the member of the family who was always closest to Lionel, Ralph asked if he could visit us here before going on to England to be with his grandfather.’
Petrie shook his head. ‘Poor fellow, I don’t imagine it occurred to him that he would be doing so without his wife by his side.’ He swivelled in his chair and stretched his long legs. ‘I’d better go and speak to my wife. I promised her I wouldn’t let you ask Ralph any questions without her being present.’
Clutterbuck and de Silva exchanged looks as Petrie walked away to Lady Caroline’s tent. ‘Well, I wasn’t expecting that,’ Clutterbuck remarked in an undertone. ‘Not something to broadcast, eh, de Silva?’
‘Certainly not, sir.’
‘We mustn’t forget, we gave our word. I’m afraid it means I’ll have to leave Mrs Clutterbuck in suspense. She’s intrigued to know why Lady Caroline has never mentioned her nephew in the past. What Petrie said explains it. Ah,’ he lowered his voice. ‘Here comes Lady Caroline with her nephew now. I’m sure I needn’t remind you, but be careful what you say.’
Then why do so? De Silva suppressed a twinge of annoyance.
Studying Ralph Wynne-Talbot, he was surprised that he looked as composed as he did. The famous stiff upper lip of the British might, of course, account for it.
‘Good morning, Inspector de Silva.’ Lady Caroline’s smile was strained and she sounded tired. ‘My husband tells me you have a few questions, so my nephew and I have come to answer them but I hope you won’t keep us long.’
De Silva bowed. ‘I shall try not to, my lady, but first please accept my sincere condolences.’
‘Shall we sit down?’ asked Petrie. He drew out a chair for Lady Caroline, and the party waited for her to take it before seating themselves.
‘Well, fire away, Inspector,’ Ralph Wynne-Talbot said flatly. He sank so low in his chair that his chin was almost resting on his chest. The fingers of his right hand beat an erratic tattoo on the armrest. Lady Caroline put her hand on his. ‘If it’s too painful, you don’t need to talk to the inspector now, Ralph. I’m sure he will understand if you’d rather wait.’
He gave her a wan smile. ‘Dear Aunt Caroline, you mustn’t worry about me so. The inspector has a job to do and I oughtn’t to stand in his way. As I said, Inspector, fire away.’
‘If you have no objection, I’d like to start by asking you to tell me what you remember happening this morning.’
‘Very well, I don’t suppose there’s much to say that hasn’t already been said. I heard Aubrey raise the alarm around dawn and it took me a few seconds to wake up. At first, I thought he might have been attacked by a wild animal of some kind and the shikaris would go to his rescue, then I heard my wife’s name and my blood turned cold.’
‘You thought it might have been she who had been attacked?’
‘Yes. I scrambled out of my sleeping bag as fast as I could. I’d gone to sleep in my shirt and trousers and I didn’t stop to find my shoes. I ran out barefoot and there was Aubrey. He looked horrified when he saw me and started gibbering something about Helen but I couldn’t make sense of it. I looked around, terrified I’d see her body.’
He stopped and moistened his lips with his tongue. Lady Caroline leant forward. ‘Do you need something to drink, my dear?’
He shook his head. ‘When I couldn’t see her anywhere, I was afraid whatever it was had dragged her off. I shouted at Aubrey to calm down and tell me what had happened.’
His voice became husky. ‘That’s when he told me she’d fallen. I didn’t believe him at first. I even made a joke of it, God help me. I suppose I was afraid. I said he needed to lay off the whisky or he’d be telling me he
’d seen pink elephants next.’ He raised his head; his eyes glistened. ‘Then I realised he was telling the truth.’
‘You say you were afraid,’ de Silva said gently. ‘Was that because you were already worried about your wife?’
Reluctantly, Ralph Wynne-Talbot nodded. ‘Yes, although I never thought she’d do anything like this. She’d been unhappy for a while. We’d been expecting a child and she lost it. I tried to help her get over that, but it was very hard for her. I took her to doctors; they said she needed time. When she agreed to leave Australia, I hoped a new life in England would help.’ He raised his hands in a gesture of hopelessness. ‘I’ll always believe I should have done more. I just didn’t know what.’
Lady Caroline stood up and patted his arm. ‘Well done, my dear.’
She turned to de Silva. ‘Have you heard enough now, Inspector? I think my nephew needs to rest.’
‘Of course. And once again, sir, I’m sorry to trouble you at such a sad time.’
Petrie stood up. ‘I’ll join you in a moment or two, my dear,’ he said.
He waited until his wife and her nephew had walked away before turning to de Silva. ‘Thank you, Inspector. I expect you’ll want to be getting on with the job of finding the body now. Clutterbuck? A word if you please before I go.’
The two men walked a little way off and spoke briefly. Unable to hear the gist of the conversation, de Silva waited for Clutterbuck to return. It had been an uncomfortable hour and he was glad it was over.
The body would need to be found and examined, of course, but it was hard to believe that Helen Wynne-Talbot’s death was anything but suicide. It was a pity that no one except Major Aubrey had seen her jump, but why would he lie? All the same, it had always been his professional opinion that one should leave no stone unturned. His time in the force in Colombo, indeed all his experience in the police service, had convinced him that nothing should ever be taken on trust. It was extraordinary how often what seemed at first to be an open-and-shut case proved to be nothing of the sort when you dug deeper. He would like to try and find out a bit more about Aubrey to satisfy himself the man was reliable. Maybe learn more about the Ranescus too, even though it seemed unlikely that anything he discovered would change his view of what had happened at dawn that morning.
Clutterbuck returned and sat down heavily. ‘Well done, de Silva. Dashed delicate situation. Fortunately, Petrie didn’t have any complaints about how you handled it. Grisly business finding the body, I’m afraid, but see to it as soon as you can, will you?’
‘I’ll get onto it straight away, sir.’
‘Best get the funeral over as quickly as possible and return to normal. Although I don’t suppose life will be normal for poor Wynne-Talbot for a long time.’
‘Quite.’
Clutterbuck sighed. ‘Well, I think that about wraps everything up. I’ll tell a couple of the shikaris to guide you back.’
He frowned. ‘One thing did strike me as a bit odd. One of them has gone missing. Disappeared in the night it seems, and none of the others admit to knowing anything about him. Perhaps there was some kind of argument, but I didn’t hear anything and their camp isn’t all that far away from our tents. It’s most unusual for a shikari not to stay around to get paid.’
Chapter 6
Now that de Silva knew the worst to expect, the journey down the mountainside seemed easy. The shikaris left him where he had parked the Morris and he drove back to Nuala. It was late afternoon by the time he arrived. In the bazaar, the few traders who had not already packed away their stalls drowsed in the shade or smoked the clay pipes filled with dark, pungent tobacco that many of the men favoured. Half-naked children darted between the traffic of bullock carts, handcarts, and rickshaws. On a patch of dusty ground, a dozen or so boys were playing a noisy game of cricket. De Silva wondered if that was how Sergeant Prasanna had learnt to love the game as a boy.
At the station, there was no sign of him. Constable Nadar was once again slumped over his desk asleep. De Silva sighed. He didn’t know how long babies went on teething for but he hoped Nadar’s son wouldn’t take too much longer. In his office, the same pile of post that he had been perusing that morning lay on his desk. He glanced through the letters he hadn’t had time to read but there was nothing that couldn’t wait.
The window must have been closed all day and the temperature in the room was hot enough to cook eggs. He went to the switch and turned on the ceiling fan, but it made very little difference and the monotonous swish of its blades made him feel sleepy too. There was no point sending anyone out to look for Mrs Wynne-Talbot’s body until tomorrow anyway. He may as well let Nadar go off duty and then lock up. Returning to the front office, he shook the constable awake and after a brief admonishment, sent him home.
**
‘What a dreadful thing to happen,’ said Jane sadly as they sat on the verandah that evening and watched the sun go down. ‘It’s tragic when anyone dies prematurely, but poor Helen Wynne-Talbot was so young. How is her husband taking it?’
‘Very shocked as you would expect. It appears he knew she was suffering from depression, but not that there was a real risk she would take her own life.’
‘Has her body been found?’
‘Not yet. Clutterbuck’s put me in charge of organising the search for it. It won’t be easy, but there are a few roads and small settlements down in the valley below World’s End. We’ll have to enlist the help of the villagers.’
‘Will you go yourself?’
He shook his head. ‘It will be good experience for Prasanna and Nadar. Do them no harm to face the grimmer side of policing.’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘Anyway, Nadar should benefit from getting out of the office and taking some exercise. Every time I turn my back on him, he falls asleep.’
‘You make him sound like the dormouse.’
‘The dormouse?’
‘You know, in Alice in Wonderland.’
‘Ah yes.’ He remembered it was one of the books Jane had brought with her, a treasured volume from her childhood.
‘But without the teapot, of course.’
De Silva chuckled as he pictured Nadar’s plump personage wedged in a teapot.
‘Why’s he so tired? I hope you don’t make him work too hard.’
‘I think that would be impossible. No, it’s his baby son. He’s teething and Nadar says he and his wife get no sleep.’
‘Oh dear.’
Jane sighed. ‘I hope there won’t be a lot of gossip about Helen Wynne-Talbot, not just for her husband’s sake but Lady Caroline must be very distressed too. I expect she’d rather as few people as possible know what’s happened.’
‘Let’s hope she gets her wish but I’m afraid she may not. The Wynne-Talbots have made quite a splash in Nuala and people will wonder where she is.’
She nodded. ‘Unfortunately you’re probably right, and if past history is anything to go by, one won’t need to look far for the chief source of gossip.’
‘Florence Clutterbuck?’
‘Yes. But perhaps Archie will manage to keep her quiet.’
De Silva grinned ‘I doubt it. It’s always the wife who wears the shorts in the household.’
Jane pulled a cushion out from under her arm and threw it at him. ‘What nonsense, and it’s trousers not shorts.’
De Silva placed the cushion on the floor. ‘Ah well, let’s talk of something more cheerful.’
‘Agreed.’ She thought for a moment. ‘There’s an American film coming to the Casino that I’d like to see.’
‘What’s it called?’
‘Footlight Parade. The choreographer is Busby Berkeley, so there’ll be lots of wonderful dancing and it stars James Cagney and Joan Blondell.’
‘I thought he played gangsters.’
Usually he does but this time he’s a theatre impresario. He started out in vaudeville, so he should be able to dance.’
‘That’s fine. I enjoyed 42nd Street so let’s try it.’
His foot
started to tap and he hummed the big number from the film – rather tunelessly if the truth was told.
Jane winced. She loved music and was glad he liked it too, but he was a better audience than performer. Charitably, she had decided that the difference between East and West was probably to blame for his perilous hold on the melodies of most of the western songs he sang.
Dusk turned swiftly to darkness and little by little, the stars came out, studding the velvet-black sky like diamonds. Jane and de Silva slipped into a companionable silence. This was one of his favourite times of day, even more precious than usual after such a melancholy one. The smell of spices wafted from the direction of the kitchen, reminding him he had eaten nothing since that camp meal of eggs and horrible coffee.
Jane picked up the week’s copy of the Nuala News and folded it over. ‘We’ve half an hour before dinner. Do help me finish this crossword. I’ve been stuck on fourteen down all afternoon.’
Chapter 7
Early the following week, de Silva drove to the Residence to make his report to Archie Clutterbuck. Waiting in the cool of the spacious hall, he enjoyed the scent of the vase of roses someone had put on the central table. No doubt it was one of the servants. Unlike Jane, Florence didn’t believe in doing anything in the house herself, even such a pleasant job as arranging flowers.
The servant who had gone to announce him returned to show him through to the study. As soon as he had opened the door, the man departed hastily and de Silva soon saw why. What appeared to be a small black and white household mop darted at him making a noise like a troop of langur monkeys in a bad temper.
The Inspector de Silva Mysteries Page 20