by Carola Dunn
“True.”
“If Lucy’s cleared, so am I. Here he comes. What-ho, Fletcher.”
“What-ho, Bincombe,” Alec returned genially. “You and Lucy are out of it, I’m glad to say. I don’t suppose you’ve remembered seeing anything out of the ordinary when you entered the conservatory?”
“Sorry, old chap. Told you, I saw Lord Fotheringay lying there and as soon as I realized he was not breathing I concentrated on trying to revive him.”
“But you’ve had time to think about it since. Even the slightest impression of some small detail might help.”
Gerald flushed. “Other things to think about,” he muttered.
“Well, put your mind to it, there’s a good fellow. If anything occurs to you, come and see me right away.”
Over Alec’s shoulder, Daisy saw Sally and Rupert approaching. “Watch out, darling,” she murmured, “the fire-breathing Lieutenant Colonel is upon us.”
“My husband, Mrs. Fletcher,” Sally introduced him. She looked nervous and Daisy wondered whether she had felt the rough side of his tongue.
“How do you do, Colonel. I don’t suppose you remember me, Lucy’s friend? I was Daisy Dalrymple when I last visited Haverhill.”
“Afraid not.” Cold, arrogant eyes passed over her indifferently. “How do you do.”
“This is my husband, Alec Fletcher. And do you know Gerald Bincombe?”
“Bincombe.” Rupert gave Gerald a cursory nod of recognition, which was returned in kind, without cordiality on either side. He turned to Alec. “Well, Inspector,” he said with a sneer, “I see you are hard at work hunting down my great-aunt’s murderer.”
“And your father’s,” Alec responded levelly.
“Oh, as to that, you’re wasting your time. I’m sure you’ll find it’s a mare’s nest. My father was in poor health. But I suppose the kudos is greater if you can claim to have solved two murders rather than one.”
“On the contrary. Two murders are often easier to solve than one. A second death by the same hand is apt to provide clues which aid in solving the first.”
“Ah, so that’s why you’re hoping Father was murdered.”
“I never hope for any man’s damnation.” Alec’s grey eyes were icy. The look that made subordinates shiver, suspects shudder, and malefactors wish they were at the North Pole had its effect on the Lieutenant Colonel, who blinked, visibly taken aback. “And now, if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”
Daisy went out to the hall with Alec. “That was a ripping line,” she congratulated him, “though I’m not absolutely sure what you meant by it.”
“Nor am I!” he admitted with a rueful laugh. “I suppose I had it in mind that disposing of Lady Eva might conceivably be viewed as a form of self-defence, but there’s no possible justification for Lord Fotheringay’s murder.”
“So doing him in would damn the murderer.”
“Something like that. Not a suitable conjecture for a policeman. My job is to make a present of him to the courts for judgment, not to St. Peter. Daisy, now you’ve had a chance to think about it, you’re quite certain no one was about here in the hall when you and Lucy went to the conservatory? You didn’t catch a glimpse of anyone on the terrace?”
Daisy shook her head regretfully. “Sorry, darling. Whoever put the stuff in the tea had plenty of time to get away. Gerald had been working on the poor old chap for several minutes before we arrived. I’m sure he was too engrossed in his artificial respiration to notice much else.”
“If he did see anything, it’s been driven from his mind by this nonsense of Lucy’s,” Alec grumbled. “She’s not serious about calling it all off, is she?”
“Just at present, yes. Tomorrow, who knows?”
“It’s not like her to be so indecisive.”
“She’s just confused.”
“No doubt that’s why she didn’t mention having taken a bromide until I asked whether she’d heard any sounds in the night.”
“She’s not used to being involved in police investigations,” Daisy excused her friend.
“At least I’ve eliminated her and Bincombe, which is about all I’ve accomplished so far!”
“Cheer up, darling. It may seem like forever but you’ve only been here a few hours, and you’ve had an extra murder on your hands.”
“Which, according to what I told the gallant Lieutenant Colonel, will make my job easier. I should have kept my mouth shut.”
“Impossible!”
“Yes.” He gave her a rueful grin. “But a policeman ought to find it possible. You’re giving me ideas above my station. I shan’t be able to expect any cooperation from him now.”
“You couldn’t have anyway. Luckily, he wasn’t here, and his grandfather is still in charge at Haverhill.”
“True. I’d better go and see if Tom has managed to retrieve any further information that Lucy didn’t think to give us. And you’d better go and lie down for a bit before dinner, love. You’re looking a little worn.”
“Two murders in one day is a trifle wearing,” Daisy admitted, standing on tiptoe to kiss Alec on the nose. Then she went upstairs to put her feet up and try to work out how she was going to explain Lucy’s state of mind to Gerald after dinner when she didn’t understand it herself and wasn’t sure Lucy did.
Alec returned to the library. Lucy looked round and raised elegantly arched eyebrows.
“All confirmed,” he said. “It’s not that I doubted you, Lucy, but …”
“I know, Sergeant Tring has explained to me that you’ll have to explain to the Chief Constable why you haven’t arrested me. I’m afraid I haven’t remembered seeing or hearing anything or anyone. We’ve been trying to work out what Uncle Aubrey could have observed that might have led you to Aunt Eva’s murderer. It’s a bit of a puzzler.”
“We haven’t had time to put our minds to it, Chief, but Lord Fotheringay slept in the family wing, the other side of the house from the scene of the crime.”
“Your uncle wasn’t a nocturnal rambler?”
“For all I know he came down every night to make sure his plants were tucked up cosily in their beddy-byes. But the straightforward way would be down the main stairs and across the hall, not round by the guest bedrooms.”
“Hmm, it’s something we’ll have to consider later, when I can talk to Lady Fotheringay. In the meantime, I have a long list of people to see this evening, so …”
“So I’ll take my leave, before you change your mind and bring out the handcuffs.” Lucy rose, then hesitated, the flippant manner dropping away. “It has to be one of my relatives, doesn’t it?”
“I’m sorry.”
“I don’t hold you to blame,” Lucy said wryly. She gestured at the list on the desk. “If that’s what I assume it is, we have enough secrets between us to furnish a dozen motives.”
She left and Alec had peace at last to delve into her family’s secrets. He resumed scanning the list where he had left off, then started at the top again.
“Edward Devenish and his divorcée.” Alec reached for the telephone. “I must put in a call to his pals in Hampshire.”
Tom flipped through his notebook, but Ernie Piper beat him to it. “Hetheridge, Chief, Bill Hetheridge, Danesbury House, Nether Wallop.”
Alec asked the operator to find the number, ring through, and call him back. He went back to the list. “Sir James Devenish, prosecuted for assault and battery for horse-whipping a farmer who shot a fox ravaging his hen-house.”
“Five pounds or sixty days,” said Piper. “He paid, of course. Hefty damages, too.”
“Actual bodily harm, that’s aggravated assault,” said Tom. “He should have done time for that.”
“Brother magistrates on the bench, no doubt, all sympathising with the chastisement of a dastard who dared to shoot a fox. As all his county friends would have heard about it, and he didn’t actually go inside, it’s not much of a secret. In fact, he’s probably quite proud of himself. But even if he’d done something
he didn’t want known, he’d surely not believe his mother would tell the world.”
“Ah,” said Tom, “but it shows a propensity to violence, towards people as well as dumb animals, and he gets the London house back, remember. Maybe he wants to sell it. These landowners sometimes get desperate for ready cash.”
“Maybe. I hope we don’t have to go into his financial position. Who’s next? The present Lady Devenish.”
“Josephine Devenish, Chief, but Lady Eva mostly calls her ‘that woman’ in the records. Looks like they didn’t get on.”
“She’s been selling off family heirlooms and giving the proceeds to her son? So young Teddy comes in again.”
“Won’t the stuff be his in the end, anyway?” Piper asked.
“I imagine so, but it’s not yet. It’s certainly not Lady Devenish’s to sell. I don’t know what Lady Eva’s interest in it would be, if any, but Sir James might well kick up a dust if she told him.”
“Wouldn’t he have noticed things disappearing?”
“Judging by what Mrs. Fletcher told us, laddie,” said Tom, “not unless she sold his guns or his fishing rods. But, Chief, if he’s as henpecked as Mrs. Fletcher told us, likely she wouldn’t care if he found out.”
“On the other hand, with theft to hold over her, perhaps he wouldn’t be so hen-pecked. Whether she’d murder her mother-in-law to keep the upper hand with her husband, though …”
“They didn’t get on, Chief,” Piper reminded him. “The two ladies, I mean.”
“It’s still pretty thin, even if you add that misappropriating the family jewels is frowned on in the best circles. We’ll have to tackle her about it, though.” As Alec spoke, the telephone bell rang. He unhooked the receiver. His call to Danesbury House came through, and a moment later he was speaking to an incredulous Bill Hetheridge.
“Scotland Yard? Detective Chief Inspector? You’re pulling my leg. Who is this? Is that you, Freddie?”
“This is Detective Chief Inspector Fletcher,” Alec repeated patiently. “If you doubt it, you may ring up Scotland Yard and enquire as to my credentials, but that would waste our time, both of us, and I’m engaged in a murder investigation.”
“Murder! I say, chaps, listen to this! It’s a detective chappie wants to know about a murder.” A confused noise of several excited voices came down the wire. “Right-oh, Chief Inspector, fire away! Who’s been murdered? Are we all suspects? How jolly!”
“If that were the case, Mr. Hetheridge, I should be on your doorstep. I’m seeking information about the movements of Mr. Edward Devenish.”
“Haw, haw, haw, he wants to know about Teddy! No, Ginger, you can’t talk to him. I say, Chief Inspector, Teddy’s not here.”
“I’m aware of that. Can you tell me exactly when he left your house?”
“Anyone know when Teddy left last night?” Bill Hetheridge’s companions could be heard arguing, as could the clink of bottle and glass. “Sorry, Chief Inspector, it was after dinner but no one knows exactly when. You might say he did a moonlight flit, didn’t say goodbye to anyone. Who’s he done in?”
“I’m checking on the movements of a large number of people. Why do you suppose Mr. Devenish left without saying goodbye?”
“Hang it all, no suppose about it, haw, haw! Teddy was all broken up, hopes dished, fed up, abso-bally-lutely pipped at the post. You see, the young chump was dashed keen on our Ginger, and she’d been leading him on a bit … . yes, you did, Ginger, it’s no good denying it. Persuaded me to invite him, didn’t you?”
“And Miss … er … Ginger handed him his hat?”
“That’s it in a nutshell. Don’t know how you Scotland Yard chappies do it, damned if I do. What made it worse was, his grandmother told him to stop seeing Ginger, said she’d tell the parents if he didn’t. You see, he defied the old bird, swore he didn’t care if he was disinherited, and Ginger told him he might not care but she jolly well did and she hadn’t any use for a halfling with empty pockets. Brutal, eh, what? Haw, haw, haw!”
Alec hung up on the sounds of general merriment. “Fatuous ass.”
“Disappointed in love?” Tom asked.
“It’s more complicated than that,” Alec said grimly. “Young Devenish is in the soup right up to his chin.”
14
Daisy was feeling guilty. Instead of enjoying basking in the evening sun in the comfort of her chair and footstool, she couldn’t help wondering whether she was responsible for Lucy’s broken engagement. She had questioned Lucy’s love for Gerald, practically suggested she was only marrying him because his father was a marquis. With the wedding preparations in full swing, Lucy hadn’t the nerve to cry off, but as soon as the excuse of a postponement appeared she seized her chance.
Which was all very well if she didn’t love him, but if she did and only doubted because of what Daisy had said …
The knock on her door was a welcome distraction, even if whoever it was just wanted to pump her about Alec’s progress. “Come in,” she called.
Lucy stormed in. “Darling, that foul little beast my cousin Erica’s going around saying Binkie’s family will refuse to let him marry me, because of the murders.” She plopped into the chair opposite Daisy’s, not at all in her usual languidly graceful way.
“Have you told her you’ve already called it off?”
“Good Lord, no! That will only confirm what she’s thinking.”
“She’ll have to know sooner or later, though.”
“Unless I marry him after all.”
“Just to scotch rumours that he’s dropped you? I wish you’d make up your mind, Lucy. I’m meeting him after dinner to try to explain you to him, but I don’t think I can even attempt it.”
“If you’re asking me to explain myself, I can’t. I’ve never been so confused in my life. I didn’t know I was capable of feeling so confused. I can’t marry him just to spite Erica, but I don’t want to turn into a dreary spinster like Angela or Aunt lone. Daisy, what on earth has come over Aunt Ione?”
“I can’t tell you, but I will say that she wasn’t a dreary spinster by choice. Come to that, I don’t suppose anyone exactly chooses to be dreary, though they may choose not to marry. But Angela isn’t what I’d call dreary.”
“Darling, her clothes!”
“We can’t all have your sense of style. Instead of fashion, Angela has passion.”
“For those ghastly, dreary mongrels of hers,” Lucy objected.
“She’s doing something she cares deeply about. That’s not a dreary life. Anyway, look at your cousin Flora. You can’t call her a dreary spinster. If you don’t marry, you’ll be like her, with both fashion and a passion—for photography.”
“Are you trying to persuade me not to get married now?”
“Not at all, I’m just saying there are worse fates. By the way, darling, your ex-intended asked me not to call him Binkie any longer. He said no wonder you don’t take him seriously when you think of him as Binkie.”
“It’s not that I don’t take him seriously! Gerald’s a nice name, though, nice and solid. I thought he liked being called Binkie,” Lucy said plaintively.
“I expect he did at school. I don’t expect the people he sells stocks to—if that’s what he does—call him Binkie.”
“Unless they were at school with him.”
“True,” said Daisy laughing. “So can I at least tell him—Is that someone knocking? Bother!”
“Shall I see who it is?”
“Would you?”
Lucy went to open the door. “Oh, hello, Angela. Daisy’s resting.”
“Gosh, sorry, I won’t disturb her.”
But Tiddler, after a doubtful sniff or two, had recognized Daisy’s friendly scent and came scurrying to see her. He grovelled on the floor beside her chair, tail beating madly. Daisy reached down to scratch his head.
“Come in, Angela,” she said resignedly.
“Gosh, sorry, I’ll get him …”
“No, that’s all right. Come and sit d
own. I’ll see you later, Lucy.”
Behind Angela’s back, Lucy rolled her eyes and departed.
“He likes you,” said Angela, her tone congratulatory She dropped into the chair, with even less grace than Lucy had, and sighed. “I’m sorry to interrupt, honestly, but things are so awful and there’s no one else I can talk to.”
“Just in general? I mean, with your grandmother’s murder and all. Or is there something new?”
“It’s Mummy and Daddy. Your husband called them in, one at a time, and neither of them will tell the other what was said and now they’re not speaking to each other.”
Lady Devenish had entered the library already on the offensive: “I don’t suppose you would know about such niceties, but it’s time I was changing for dinner. I can’t spare you more than a couple of minutes.”
“In that case,” said Alec, “we’ll dispense with the polite amenities and get right down to business. Please sit down. You are Josephine, Lady Devenish?”
“If you don’t know who I am—”
“I do, madam. This is a required preliminary. I should warn you that your words will be taken down and may be used as evidence in a court of law. You will be asked to sign a statement. I repeat, is your name … ?”
“Yes,” she said grudgingly, “I’m Lady Devenish.”
Nothing short of shock tactics was likely to work, Alec decided. “What exactly did your late mother-in-law have to say to you regarding your conversion to cash of a number of family heirlooms?”
“She didn’t know! I mean, I don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re supposed to be investigating murder, not whatever unfounded rumours you may have picked up by snooping into private affairs.”
“Madam, in a murder investigation no affairs are private. What did Lady Eva say?”
“She didn’t. She couldn’t have known. Anyway, the things were mine as much as anyone’s. Don’t you know the Prayer Book? ‘With my worldly goods I thee endow!’ It wasn’t anything James cared about. He didn’t even notice the miniatures were gone. It’s not as if they were family portraits. And what does it matter to him if I wear paste jewellery? Besides, it wasn’t for me, it was for Teddy. Edward, my son. Everything will be his one day, after all.” She stared at Alec with sullen defiance.