by Carola Dunn
Behind the delicate cosmetics, Lady lone turned alarmingly pale. “What? … Who? …”
“I think you’d better come and sit down.” Daisy led her unresisting to the anteroom.
Opening the door, she saw that it was a small room only by Haverhill standards, but crammed with furniture, massive Victorian stuff perhaps moved out of the family sitting room upstairs. She was well inside before she saw Constable Stebbins, sitting bootless, tenderly massaging one foot in its darned regulation sock.
Daisy hastily turned Lady Ione to face away from him, while gesturing at him behind her back to get out. Her ladyship didn’t seem to have noticed him.
“Who?” she asked again, sitting down and looking up at Daisy, all the newfound animation gone from her face.
“I’m afraid it’s Lord Fotheringay.”
“Aubrey! No! But why would anyone want to kill poor Aubrey?”
“That’s what Alec is trying to find out.” Daisy failed to mention the possibility that Lady Ione’s brother had died naturally. “Which is why it’s so important for you to tell him everything you can bear to. One can never guess which details may turn out to be vital.”
“All right, for Aubrey’s sake I’ll talk to him. But … would it be too much to ask you to come with me?”
“Not at all,” said Daisy. “I’m sure you’d like to get it over with. Shall we go right away?”
11
Daisy and Lady lone, entering the library, met Sir Leonard leaving. Standing aside, he bowed to Daisy and gave Lady Ione a curious look. As they went on, Daisy glanced back to see him staring after her ladyship with a puzzled frown.
No doubt half her relatives would be equally confused the first time they saw her. Alec, never having met the original Lady lone, merely regarded Daisy with irritation.
Before he could snap at her, she said, “Darling, I’ve brought Lady Ione to see you. She just arrived home. Lady lone, my husband.”
“How do you do, Mr. Fletcher.” Her ladyship’s composure was admirable.
“Good evening, Lady Ione.” Alec was icily polite. “Won’t you sit down? I trust you intend to explain … . What is it, Baines?”
The door that had just closed on the Chief Constable opened again to admit the butler. As he crossed the room, he said, “His lordship’s compliments, sir, and he hopes that, although he himself will not come down to dinner, you will dine with the family.”
“Please convey my thanks to Lord Haverhill, but if it will not inconvenience the staff, I and my men will dine in here. We have much to discuss.”
“As you wish, sir.” Baines had come close enough to get a good look at Lady lone. Without a twitch of an eyebrow he continued, “Does your ladyship wish me to inform his lordship of your ladyship’s return?”
“No, Baines, I’ll go up to Father before dinner.”
“Very well, my lady.” The butler bowed himself out.
Alec raised his dark eyebrows at Lady lone and she rushed into speech.
“I’m sorry. I was too excited to think about anything but going up to town to do some shopping. I didn’t realize the police would want me to stay.”
“Let me get this straight. Your aunt is murdered and your only thought is to go shopping?”
Her tone hardened. “Should I have pretended to grieve? Aunt Eva ruined my life. I was nineteen when I … made a mistake. She found out about it and threatened to tell if I … didn’t behave as she thought I ought. And she never really explained what she wanted so I had to measure up to an invisible ideal.”
“A mistake?”
“I cannot see that the details matter. I’ve admitted to hating and fearing my aunt. Isn’t that enough? I didn’t kill her. Perhaps I should have, twenty-five years ago.”
Alec’s voice gentled. “Lady lone, you are the only person so far who has had the courage to admit to being blackmailed by Lady Eva. We have her memoranda, so there are no secrets. We haven’t had time yet to go as far back as twenty-five years. If we knew exactly what your offence was, in her eyes, and what use she made of the information, we would have a much better idea of how others might have been affected.”
“And thus, who might have had a motive for killing her? But I don’t particularly want you to find her murderer.”
“Already there has been another death.”
“My poor brother!”
“We don’t know for certain whether it was foul play, but once a person has killed to solve a problem, he often finds it immeasurably easier the second time. Are you willing to risk a third?”
“N-no. But I can’t … !” Lady lone looked from Alec to Tom, to young Piper in his inconspicuous corner, notebook and pencil in hand. “Suppose I tell Mrs. Fletcher? That wouldn’t be half as bad. Then she could tell you.”
Knowing Alec so well, Daisy could see him suppressing a sigh of resignation. “Very well.” He smiled at Lady lone. “It’s past time we had women detectives on the force.”
Daisy and Lady Ione retired to the other end of the room. A couple of comfortable reading chairs enveloped them. Lady lone leaned back with a weary sigh.
“I had forgotten how tiring a day of shopping for clothes in London can be. Or perhaps I never knew. I was young … . As you are undoubtedly aware,” she said dryly, “I am not accustomed to spending time or money on my dress.”
“That’s part of the story, isn’t it?”
“Yes. The easy part.”
“Would it help if I pointed out that my generation doesn’t have quite the same view of life as Lady Eva’s? The War …” To her annoyance, Daisy found herself blinking back tears. “The War changed things.”
“You lost someone.”
“Gervaise—my brother. And my fiancé, Michael. When someone you love is going off into such deadly danger, you never again have quite the same view of the rules.”
“I was in love. He was an artist, handsome, dashing, charming, and definitely not out of the top drawer, as the current phrase has it, but one met him everywhere. He was beginning to make a name for himself as a fashionable portrait painter.”
“He painted your portrait?”
“A cliché, isn’t it? But no, as it happened he painted a friend of mine. Her aunt was bringing her out, and perhaps was not as careful a chaperon as her mother would have been. At any rate, the two of us went to a sitting without her one day when she had some other engagement. Needless to say, my mother was under the impression that she was with us.”
“It must have been simply frightful,” said Daisy, with a shudder, “never going anywhere without a chaperon.”
“In those days, we took it for granted. But for my friend’s sittings, we continued to chaperon each other, without her aunt. By the time the portrait was finished, I was besotted. My mother had become accustomed to my regular meetings with my friend and did not realize when I started to go alone. That, of course, was when … things happened.”
“Of course.”
“To cut a long story short, we pretended to have met at a party, he asked my father’s permission to marry me, and Father said no. That would have been the end of that, if Aunt Eva had not put two and two together. She heard Mother mention that I was accompanying my friend to sittings after she had seen the finished portrait. No one else would have put those two scraps of information together, but it was grist to Aunt Eva’s mill.”
“She didn’t pass on her discovery to your parents, though?”
“No, that would have been to give away her power over me.”
“What on earth did she say when she tackled you?”
“I was not fit to be a decent man’s wife. If I made any attempt to attract a suitor, she would tell my parents. And if any gentleman should pursue me with serious intentions, she would warn him, even though it would bring disgrace on the family.”
“Gosh, I am glad times have changed. Not that I’m in favour of promiscuity,” Daisy added hastily, “but to be damned for ever for one slip … And not being able to marry a man because you
r parents disapprove! Mother disapproved of Alec, but I just took no notice. So that’s why you retired from the world and went all dowdy.”
“I couldn’t think what else to do. Everyone assumed I was pining because Father banned the marriage.”
“Were you? Are you? No, sorry, it’s frightfully impertinent of me to ask.”
“When you’ve been so kind as to listen … You’re the first person I’ve ever been able to talk to about this. I did pine for a little while, until I heard that he had got another girl into trouble. He went on to lead a very wild life and die young. So, you see, my father was right.” Lady lone sighed. “All the same, if not for Aunt Eva, I might have found someone else to love.”
“Her behaviour was infamous! I wonder how many others she has treated as badly.”
“I hope I’m not the only person suspected of her murder.”
Looking over to where Alec and Tom were poring over Ernie Piper’s sheaf of notes, Daisy said, “Not by a long way. Don’t worry, I’ll give Alec a very abbreviated version of your story, but I’m sure he’ll be more interested in people with more immediate reasons to wish Lady Eva dead. You’d better wait in case he has any further questions.”
“Your husband—What will he think of me?”
“Oh, Alec’s somewhere in the middle. He winces when Lucy swears but doesn’t believe in the concept of the ‘fallen woman.’”
Lady Ione smiled faintly. “That’s the very phrase Aunt Eva used.”
“Believe me, he sees much worse all the time.” Daisy patted her shoulder and went over to the desk. In a couple of sentences, she gave Alec the gist of Lady Ione’s story.
“Great Scott, if that’s the sort of use Lady Eva made of her collection, I’m surprised she wasn’t done in years ago.”
“Ah,” said Tom ruminatively. “It’s one thing to bully a young girl. Some of these others wouldn’t stand for it. Well done, Mrs. Fletcher.”
“Yes, thanks, Daisy. It’s a great help to know that Lady Eva didn’t always just sit on her information. And now you’ll be wanting to go and change for dinner.”
“How diplomatic of you, darling. I know when I’m not wanted.”
She went with him over to Lady lone, Piper following with his notebook. Alec thanked her for her cooperation and asked for information about her movements that afternoon. “We’ll check,” he said, “but assuming what you say is corroborated, we can at least acquit you of your brother’s death, if he was in fact murdered.”
“All the same, I hope the poor old boy went naturally. Aubrey was the best of my brothers.”
Behind them the telephone bell rang. Tom unhooked the receiver. “It’s your call, Chief.”
“That was quick. Excuse me, ladies.”
Daisy and Lady lone went out into the hall. Lucy was lurking, unconvincingly gazing at one of the nonancestral portraits. Hearing their steps she swung round.
“Darling, I’ve been waiting … .” Mouth open, she stared at Daisy’s companion. “Good Lord, Aunt Ione?”
“In the flesh,” said that lady dryly. She turned to Daisy. “Thank you for everything, Mrs. Fletcher. I hope it helps your husband. I like him.” With a nod to Lucy, she went off, her Cuban heels tapping on the marble floor.
Lucy looked after her. “But Aunt lone always wears lace-ups! And frumpy frocks with crooked hems and those ghastly mudcoloured cardigans she knits herself. What on earth has come over her?”
“You might say she’s growing young.”
“But why?”
Daisy didn’t choose to answer. “You’ve been waiting for me?” she asked.
Fortunately Lucy was not really interested in her aunt. “For ages. I’ve told Binkie I’m not going to marry him. The poor lamb can’t believe I mean it. Will you try to explain to him that it’s not his fault, I just don’t want to be married?”
“I’ll talk to him.” Daisy carefully avoided specifics of what she would say. “Where is he?”
“In the drawing room, doing the polite.”
“Have you told anyone else the wedding is off?”
“No. It would be too much for the parents and grandparents on top of everything else. Don’t spread the word, will you?”
“Of course not.”
“Daisy, why would anyone kill Uncle Aubrey? I can understand Aunt Eva, sort of, but why Uncle Aubrey?”
“Alec thinks he may have seen something which could lead to Lady Eva’s murderer. Or at least, the murderer may think he saw something.”
“How frightful! The murderer might imagine the same about any of us.”
“Yes. Which is why you must give Alec any help you can, instead of being so off-hand about the whole thing.”
“I don’t feel at all off-hand about Uncle Aubrey.”
“Good. Once you’ve made a clean breast of everything you know, there’s no further reason to do you in.”
“Beast!” Lucy shuddered. “Now I don’t want to wait till he sends for me again. Not that I know anything useful, but shall I go and see him now?”
“He’ll need a proper statement sometime, but I shouldn’t disturb him just now, not if you haven’t anything in particular to tell him.”
“I’ll try my luck. After all, I’m one of his chief suspects, because of the will. Make sure everyone knows I’m spilling the beans, will you? I don’t fancy a poisoned cup of tea.”
“You don’t want me to hold your hand?”
“No, thanks, darling. Go and hold Binkie’s.”
She turned towards the library and Daisy went on towards the drawing room.
Of course Lucy hadn’t killed Lady Eva. Unlike a Victorian “young girl,” in Tom’s words, a modern young woman wouldn’t meekly put up with such browbeating, but she would ignore it, not resort to murder—unless Lady Eva had discovered something a whole lot more serious than a brief affaire.
12
In the spacious drawing room, Daisy found many of the family assembled in gloomy huddles. Perhaps there was a feeling of safety in numbers. Alec had forbidden them to leave, yet after two deaths, tennis or bridge would hardly be decent. The dressing bell, still customary at Haverhill, had not yet rung. The hour was too early for cocktails, which Daisy was sure many were longing for.
Binkie was being talked at by Angela. He hastily extricated himself and came to meet Daisy. His usual calm taciturnity was not now in evidence. “Daisy, what’s this maggot Lucy’s got into her head about not marrying me? What have I done?”
“It’s not anything you’ve done. She just—”
“I’ve managed to get hold of the latest prototype Leica camera for her, to prove I mean to let her go on with her photography. Now I daren’t give it to her in case she thinks it’s a bribe. Can’t you persuade her to give me another chance?”
“I’m sorry, Binkie, I—”
“Don’t call me Binkie!” he said wildly. “Please don’t. It’s an asinine nickname. How can she take me seriously when people call me Binkie?”
“I’m sorry. Gerald, then. Look, we can’t talk here.” She saw Sally approaching from one side and Flora from the other, with Jennifer hovering nearby. “Later.”
“Meet me in the conservatory after dinner.”
“Right-oh.” Daisy wasn’t keen on returning to the scene of Lord Fotheringay’s death, but on the spur of the moment she couldn’t think of anywhere else almost certain to be private.
She turned to Sally, whom she hadn’t seen since breakfast. The new Lady Fotheringay was pale and drawn. Her black frock was the sort that can be dressed up for any occasion with the right scarf, belt, and jewellery. Worn plain, for mourning, it didn’t suit her at all.
“It’s disgraceful!” she snapped before Daisy could express condolences. “My mother-in-law and Lord and Lady Haverhill are distraught over this ridiculous suggestion that my father-in-law’s death was not natural. The police have no business making such unfounded assertions, just to make themselves look more important.”
“I assure you, Alec woul
d not—”
“Do dry up, Sally!” Flora’s discreet make-up could not hide the angry flags flying in her cheeks. No love lost between the sisters-in-law, Daisy noted. “You’re only making a dreadful situation worse. The police are doing all they can, and if they weren’t, Mrs. Fletcher’s not to blame.”
“It’s all very upsetting,” said Daisy soothingly. “I shan’t take offence.”
“Well!” Perhaps Sally had intended to give offence. At any rate, she flounced off.
“How can anyone with such an impeccable pedigree be so thoroughly ill-bred?” said Flora. “You’d think my brother had picked her up at some music hall’s stage door. I wish he would hurry up and come home to keep her under control.”
“He rules the roost?”
“Oh, yes, absolutely. Rupert is quite prepared to exert himself for his own comfort. I think at first he found her shrewishness amusing, but when she started alienating the wives of his fellow officers, he put his foot down. She definitely dances to his tune. Mind you, he can’t be easy to live with.”
“No?”
“He’s very expensive, and he finds it humiliating to keep coming with his hand out to Grandfather. He likes to entertain, so Sally has to keep up appearances, but I know for a fact that she has to do more than her share of scrimping and saving. I doubt her family helps. It’s one of those ancient lineages with lots of blue blood but no money.”
“Did Lord Haverhill help you when you started your business? Not that it’s any affair of mine, but I was thinking I’d like to write an article, maybe even a series, about women running their own businesses.”
“There are plenty of us since the War. I’ll be happy to talk about it, but not just now.”
“No, I’m sorry, it’s the wrong moment. I haven’t had a chance to say how sorry I am about your father.”
“Daddy of all people!” Flora was once again furiously angry. “He was the kindest, gentlest person I’ve ever known. Your husband is going to find out what happened, isn’t he? I told him I’ll do anything in my power to help.”