by Carola Dunn
He had never dealt with a case involving such larcenous depredations on an entailed estate and he didn’t know the precise legalities of the situation. At present that was not what interested him. “Did you explain your point of view to Lady Eva?” he asked.
“It was none of her business. As dowager, she had her settlement and the use of the London house. The rest was no longer any of her affair.”
“I rather doubt she saw matters in quite the same light. And if she had told your husband, he—”
“She didn’t. She didn’t tell him. He would have said something. I suppose she might have found out, the way she was always snooping into everything, but she didn’t say anything to me or to James.”
Alec changed his angle of attack. “Presumably finding out the proceeds went to her grandson mollified her.”
“Perhaps, if she found out. I would have told her if she’d accused me.”
“How would you describe his relationship with his grandmother?”
“They were devoted to each other. He often called on her in town. She didn’t like his friends, though. She complained that they were a fast set, but a young man needs to sow his wild oats, after all.”
“Have you met these people?”
“No. Of course Teddy could have brought them to Saxonfield at any time. I’m sure he will one of these days.”
“I take it his allowance from his father was insufficient for him to keep up with them.”
“James doesn’t like him living in London. He says it’s far too expensive and rackety. I’m sure it can’t be half as expensive as his hounds and horses and guns and such,” Lady Devenish said resentfully. “And spaniels and retrievers and pointers and beagles.”
No wonder Angela was dog-mad. “You have no money of your own?”
“A few pounds a week. All my bills and the household bills go to his agent to be paid, so I can’t just take money from my pocket to give to Teddy.”
“No doubt Sir James is worried about the family’s financial position.”
“Rubbish! He’s just selfish.” Her ladyship’s lips tightened, as if this outright criticism of her husband made her realize to what extent she’d been led into indiscretion. “But none of this has anything to do with my mother-in-law’s death. You ought to be looking for a murderer, not digging for gossip.”
Alec proceeded to ask her the sort of questions she had probably expected. “Where were you between the hours of midnight and four this morning?”
“Asleep in my bed.”
“I see your room is on the floor above Lady Eva’s. You didn’t get up for any reason and leave the room or go downstairs?”
“No.”
“Do you take sleeping pills, powders, or draughts?”
“Never.”
“Did you hear any sounds, usual or unusual?”
“Ha! James snores constantly. I couldn’t have heard anything else. I never get a wink of sleep.”
Alec was tempted either to point out, “You said you were asleep,” or to advise, “Perhaps you ought to try sleeping pills.” He resisted the double temptation. “So you would have known if Sir James left the room?” he said instead.
“Indubitably. And he did not.”
“Were you surprised, this morning, to find your son had arrived in the middle of the night?”
“Not at all,” she claimed, uneasily. “He promised to be here by Friday but I didn’t know exactly when to expect him.”
“Thank you, Lady Devenish. What you have just told me will be typed in the form of a statement which you will be asked to sign.”
For the first time, she was alarmed. “What, everything?”
“Yes. I warned you that your words would be written down and might be used as evidence. I may say that the police are not at all likely to prosecute you for disposing of items not strictly belonging to you. That will be up to your husband to decide, and possibly your son, as heir.”
She gave him a malevolent look. “I suppose you’re going to tell him.”
“Only if it appears necessary to my investigation. I shan’t if I can help it, but I make no promises.” He stood up, and she followed suit. She would have liked to threaten to report him to his superiors, he thought, but under the circumstances, she hadn’t a leg to stand on. “Piper,” he said as she stalked towards the door, “I’ll see Sir James next.”
Piper followed her out. As the door closed behind him, Tom said, “Can’t sleep for his snoring, won’t take pills: if you ask me, she likes being a martyr.”
“A larcenous martyr.”
“Holds it over him, I shouldn’t wonder. Not that I believe she didn’t sleep a wink, and I bet he could have slipped out for a while.”
“Very likely. What do you make of her otherwise?”
“Sounds to me like Mrs. Fletcher got one wrong for once, Chief. Maybe Sir James lets himself be hen-pecked but he keeps the whip hand.”
“Yes, the hand that holds the purse-strings rules the roost.” Which sounded like a line from Little Buttercup’s song in “that infernal nonsense, Pinafore.”
“Lady Devenish is all bluff and bluster. Besides, I’d be surprised if she had the strength to do in Lady Eva, even if she had confronted her about the larceny, and I don’t think she had.”
“I’m inclined to agree. Perhaps Lady Eva was saving the confrontation for after the wedding. She had already called Teddy to heel. She might not have wanted another disgruntled face at the feast.”
“Poor Miss Lucy!” said Tom unexpectedly. “I’m glad at least we’ve knocked her and Lord Gerald off the list.”
“Yes, she’s having a thin time of it.”
“If you ask me, Chief, young Master Teddy’s the one we’re after for the strangling. Creeping in in the middle of the night like that, with a grudge against his grandma. His ma could’ve poisoned Lord Fotheringay, to protect him. You going to bring him in again after his pa?”
“No, he can wait till after dinner. A little more stewing won’t hurt him, especially as he’ll be wondering what his parents are saying. We’ve all the rest of Lady Eva’s list to go through.”
“That’s going to put the cat among the pigeons! I mean, everyone’ll know she had something on those people.”
“Can’t be helped. We’ll interview everyone in the end, but with so many people here, the obvious suspects must come first.”
“It was bad luck we couldn’t write any of them off for the poisoned tea. Not what I’d call a proper tea-time, everyone popping in and out and turning up when they feel like it.”
“Shockingly lax,” Alec agreed with a grin. “At least Lady Haverhill, Lady Fotheringay, and Mrs. Walsdorf stayed put pouring tea. But we really must speak to absolutely everyone this evening before they forget who they saw and talked to in the drawing room and when. Here’s our next suspect. If I don’t ask about the finances, Tom, you ask about the London house.”
“Right, Chief,” Tom agreed as Piper ushered in Sir James.
The baronet strode across the room with the long pace of a countryman and offered Alec his hand. “How do, Fletcher.” His resounding voice also was that of an outdoorsman, used to hallooing to hounds. “Hope you’re gettin’ near to arrestin’ the bastard who killed my poor mother. Anything I can do to help!”
“Allow me to express my sympathy, Sir James. Do take a seat. Let’s clear up the formalities first.”
“By Jove, yes, must do everything all right and proper.”
“Good. First, I should remind you that what you say will be written down and you’ll be asked to sign a statement which may be used in evidence. Your name and address, just for the record.”
“Sir James Devenish,” said Sir James solemnly, “Sixth Baronet, of Saxonfield, Leicestershire. Master of Fox Hounds. Used to be Justice of the Peace, but I had a bit of a dust-up with one of my tenants and they asked me to resign. Thought I’d better tell you. Your wife—demmed fine young woman, Mrs. Fletcher—she advised us to tell the whole truth right away and I qui
te see you won’t find the bastard who killed my poor mother if people keep things from you.”
“Very true, sir. Tell me a bit about this ‘dust-up.’”
The Baronet’s ruddy face grew redder. “Silly business, dare say I went too far. Fact is, the fellow shot a vixen, demmed bad form. Said she raided his hen-house. Fact is, the fellow’s been complainin’ about the hunt tramplin’ his corn or I shouldn’t have lost my temper. Can’t have it both ways, what? Don’t like us huntin’ across his fields, naturally foxes are going to get out of control. Shouldn’t have horsewhipped the fellow, though, I realize that. A pretty penny in damages it cost me, I can tell you.”
“Did your mother know about this incident?”
“Gad, yes! She has … had the local paper sent to her every week and they put the case on the front page. Demmed scribblers! She saw a paragraph about it in the Times, too. Gave me a proper tickin’ off.”
“When was that?”
“Oh, a month ago or so.”
“How did you feel about the scolding?”
“Made me realize I’d made a demmed fool of myself. I mean, gettin’ in the papers, demmed bad form, what?”
“Were you angry with Lady Eva?”
“Gad, no! She was angry with me, don’t you see.”
“Would you say you have a violent temper, Sir James?”
“Who, me? Peace at any price, that’s my motto. Ask anyone! This business was a … a thing with a berry in it.”
“Aberration?”
“That’s it! I mean, stands to reason, if I was always taking a whack at fellows, Mother wouldn’t bother to rake me over the coals. She’d know there was no point. Good gad, man, I never even raised a hand to the children. Though, mind you, it might’ve been a good thing if I’d taken a cane to the boy now and then. Let his mother raise him and she’s spoilt him.” Sir James shook his head sadly. “Useless sort of chap, shies at a fence, even caught him spoutin’ poetry once, though he don’t write it, thank God.”
“Were you surprised this morning when you found out he’d arrived in the night?”
“Can’t say I thought about it. Other things to think about, you know. My mother, and all that. Quite fond of her.”
“Yes, I’m sorry. If I tell you that we have evidence that she forced him to come, by threatening to tell you something that might well cause you to withdraw his allowance …”
“What the devil has the boy been up to?” Sir James demanded.
“I see no need to tell you, as Lady Eva effectively put a stop to it. Of course, it’s possible it may come out in court …”
“You think Teddy killed his grandmother? Gad no, the boy wouldn’t have the guts! Fact is, Angie, his older sister, she’s got more spunk in her little finger. Mind you, we don’t always see eye to eye, Angie and I. She doesn’t like me hunting, or cubbing, or shooting or even fishing. But demme if she isn’t willing to fight for what she believes in.”
“Fight?”
“Not with her fists! Angie wouldn’t hurt a fly. Not unless it was bitin’ a horse, that is.” He grinned at his own wit, then remembered the situation and sobered. “Veronica, my other girl, she’d want my mother to live forever if only so Angela wouldn’t get her inheritance. Spiteful. And Peter Bancroft, her husband, he’s a wet dishrag. I’ve two more daughters, one in Australia, t’other in the North Country, can’t get away for the wedding. No sense wastin’ your time suspectin’ any of them, any more than Angie or Teddy.” Standing up, he leant on the desk with two massive fists.
Alec saw Tom—who had two massive fists of his own—preparing for intervention and gave a tiny shake of the head.
Staring down at Alec, Sir James said earnestly, “Whoever killed my poor mother, it wasn’t one of my family.”
“I hope not.”
“Well, I just hope you catch the bastard, that’s all. I just hope you catch him.”
“We’ll do our best, sir. I promise you that. Just a couple more questions, if you please. I understand from the butler that you were among the last guests to go to bed, shortly before midnight.”
“That’s right. It was just midnight when I climbed into bed. We had the window open and I heard the tower clock chime. Our room’s up on the second floor and sometimes it sounds as if the demmed clock is in the room with us.”
“After that, did you leave your room for any reason before seven o’clock this morning?”
To Alec’s surprise, once again the baronet’s brick red face turned a brighter shade. “Er-hem,” he said, sitting down. “Well, er, yes, matter of fact I did. Twice, or maybe three times. Had to …” He glanced at Piper, diligently taking down his words, and went on in a hoarse whisper, “You know, go to the you-know-what. Sawbones says it happens as you get older. Demmed nuisance, what?”
Tom’s moustache twitched. With difficulty, Alec managed to preserve his countenance at this evidence of a prudery worthy of a Victorian spinster of uncertain years. “Did you, on any of these … visits, see anyone or see or hear anything out of the ordinary? Footsteps, a door closing?”
“Gad, no! I’d have told you right away.”
“You didn’t even see Miss Angela and her brother? See a light in the bathroom or hear water running?”
“No, nothing.”
“Pity. Can you pinpoint the times of your … excursions?”
“‘Fraid not. Fact is, I only wake up halfway, just enough to … er …”
“To get you there and back. Sergeant, did you have a question for Sir James?”
“Yes, sir. What are your plans for the London house, sir, now that Lady Eva is no longer in residence?”
“Good gad, man,” Sir James exploded, “my mother was horribly killed this morning and you want to know about the London house? I haven’t given it a thought! Well, Fletcher, if that’s all, I’ll be off.”
“Yes, thank you, Sir James.” Rising, Alec offered his hand, which the baronet shook. “I appreciate your cooperation.”
“Just find the bastard who killed my mother.” With a glare at Tom, Sir James departed.
“The Bancrofts next, Piper. We’ll take them together. Thank you for drawing his fire, Tom.”
“Under orders!”
Alec grinned. “Since he appears to be cooperative, I don’t want him angry with me. What do you think?”
“I dunno, Chief. He certainly doesn’t have any illusions about his kids. Seems like a straightforward kind of chap, but there’s that temper to consider, and you can’t overlook killing being as you might say his way of life.”
15
Dinnertime was dismal.
Daisy and Lucy went down together. Daisy was wearing her black georgette, unadorned by its usual bright-hued scarf or necklace. Without that visual distraction, she felt exposed, but Lucy swore her pregnancy was not showing. Nancy, whom they met with Tim on the stairs, concurred.
“You’re only a few weeks, aren’t you?” she said. “Five months is when you really start to notice, and if you wear the right clothes, other people may not till seven months.”
“Wait till you’re eight months and big as a blimp,” said Lucy callously.
“A pregnant woman is a beautiful sight in the eyes of God and man,” the Rev. Tim said in his gentle way.
Lucy snorted, but quietly.
In the drawing room Rupert, with Sally at his side, was dispensing drinks with a lavish hand and a sort of uneasy geniality. His position was difficult, Daisy acknowledged. He was standing in as host for his suddenly incapacitated grandfather after the death by murder of his father. A host ought to be affable but, in the circumstances, Rupert rather overdid the affability.
Daisy had known more than one survivor of the hell of Flanders unable to summon up more than token respect for his elders who had never seen action. Perhaps Rupert had never much respected his somewhat old-maidish father, so busy pottering about his greenhouses. If he had ever held him in affection he was concealing it well—but then, an officer and a gentleman was expected t
o hide his emotions.
“Dry martinis all round?” Rupert offered as his cousins and Daisy approached. “I’m rather a dab hand at dry martinis, though I say it as shouldn’t.”
Lucy accepted. Daisy asked for vermouth without the gin. She had read enough Victorian novels to be certain gin was not good for babies, born or unborn, and besides, she didn’t like it much. Nancy and Tim had sherry, one sweet and one dry.
Handing over the sherries, Rupert said, “I want to thank you, Tim and Nancy, for being so good to Mother and the grandparents. Sally’s told me how you rallied round.”
Tim and Nancy made modest noises.
“You were marvellous,” Sally interjected. Having signally failed to rally round earlier, she had rallied amazingly with her husband’s arrival. There was no sign of her previous nervous agitation. “No, honestly, Nancy …”
Lucy and Daisy moved away. “She’s too sickening!” Lucy whispered.
“She is rather.” Daisy looked around. Except for the Haverhills and Lady Fotheringay, just about everyone was there. In spite of the drinks, they were a funereal crowd; the women had all found black frocks to wear to match the men’s dinner jackets. The second murder had more than doubled the impact of the first. Those who had been merely irritable at the interruption to their lives now wore appropriate expressions, from downcast and anxious to mournful and fearful. People gathered in small groups, presumably of those they trusted, and looked askance at the rest (Sir James Devenish and his wife, notably, were at opposite ends of the room, Sir James with Angela and Lady Devenish with Teddy). Voices were subdued.
“Grim!” observed Lucy.
“Here come your parents, darling. You simply must talk to your mother. I can’t go on fending her off for you.”
“Grimmer! No.” Lucy sighed. “Poor Mummy! What a beastly daughter I am.”
As Lucy went to meet her parents, Daisy was waylaid by Jennifer Walsdorf. “Daisy, I’m not sure what to do. Your husband called in the Bancrofts and they went up late to dress, so dinner will be late. Well, that’s all right, I’ve told Baines to announce as soon as they come down, but now he’s got Lord Carleton. Is he going to keep sending for people throughout dinner?”