The Winter Garden Mystery

by Carola Dunn

  “As it happens, I remember that evening very well. Lady Valeria had unexpectedly moved up her and Mr. Parslow’s departure for Antibes, and after dinner she had reams of instructions for work she wanted done in her absence.”

  “You’re Sir Reginald’s secretary?”

  “I was hired as Sir Reginald’s secretary. I take care of the paper-work for the dairy. He asks very little else of me. Lady Valeria, on the other hand, sits on a dozen committees or more, all of which require extensive correspondence, minutes, agendas, et cetera. I also handle the household accounts; that is, paying tradesmen and servants and so on.”

  “I see. Just clarifying. So you spent the entire evening with Lady Valeria?”

  Daisy was disappointed. That is, she was glad Ben had an alibi, not that he needed one, but sorry Lady Valeria was equally cleared. She made a good villainess.

  Then Ben said, “Not all evening, no. At about ten, maybe a bit earlier, she left me to complete some odds and ends for her to sign in the morning. At eleven I decided to stop for the night and go to bed, though it meant getting up early to finish before she came down.”

  “You were alone—in here?—from ten till eleven?”

  “I was.”

  Alec made a note. “Did you see anyone else that evening?”

  “Everyone was at dinner, all the family, from eight to eight forty-five, say. Then no one but Lady Valeria until about a quarter to midnight.”

  “You were still up?”

  “I took a long, hot bath.” His mouth twisted in a wry smile. “My gammy leg was playing me up rather, aching like the blazes.”

  “The War? Where did you catch it?”

  “On the Somme. Was there anywhere else?”

  “I certainly spent a lot of time flying over it. I was a spotter.”

  “Well, it wasn’t all fun on the ground—in it, rather—but you couldn’t have paid me enough to get me up in one of those canvas and piano-wire crates.”

  “It had its interesting moments,” Alec acknowledged. “But back to business, I’m afraid. Whom did you see at quarter to twelve?”

  “Young Parslow came to my room.” Ben spoke coolly, but with a hint of wariness, Daisy thought. “He had begged Lady Valeria, not by any means for the first time, to take me to the South of France with them. I find English winters trying, you see, and he’s a kind boy. He came to tell me his mother still wouldn’t hear of it.”

  He didn’t like to reveal himself as an object of charity—attempted charity—Daisy decided. And Sebastian had been sensitive enough to know it and to keep the business to himself, even though it meant lying to the police. She’d have to make sure Alec understood.

  “Was Parslow with you long?”

  “A few minutes. I wish I could say we’d spent the night … playing cards together. I don’t know what time you’re interested in, Chief Inspector?”

  “We’re not sure ourselves as yet, though we hope to narrow it down. In eight weeks memories fade and evidence vanishes.” Alec ran his hand through the crisp, dark hair that had first attracted Daisy to him. “How would you describe Parslow’s state of mind when he came to your room?”

  The wariness was more pronounced. “Lady Valeria’s intransigeance had upset him a bit.”

  “He was agitated?”

  “I wouldn’t go so far. Mildly disturbed. Perhaps ‘ruffled’ is the word I want. I suggested he have a whisky to settle his nerves before he tried to sleep.”

  “Do you know if he took your advice?”

  “No idea. My position in the household is not such that I make a habit of ringing for servants to come to my bedroom. He wouldn’t have done so until he returned to his own room. By then I had calmed him down.”

  “Apart from his distress at his inability to persuade his mother to invite you to go along, he was happy to be leaving in the morning?”

  Ben hesitated. “Certainly. In general, his life is rather ‘cabin’d, cribb’d, confin’d.’ He seldom goes up to town. The annual visit to the Riviera is, to a certain degree, an escape.”

  “Do you know of any other reason he was particularly glad to get away from Occles Hall?”

  “Chief Inspector,” said Ben steadily, “please don’t play games with me. I’m sure you are aware, as I am, and as I was then, of Sebastian’s involvement with Grace Moss.”

  “No games,” Alec blandly assured him. “Mr. Parslow asked me not to divulge his disclosures to you.”

  Ben seemed puzzled. “Then I don’t know what he has told you, but I knew he felt his position had become untenable and he was decidedly relieved to get away.”

  “You knew before the inquest that Grace was pregnant?”

  “N-no.” For a moment he looked older, tired and ill, then he rallied. “Only that he was anxious to break off with her. I suggested he should find a pretext to ask Lady Valeria to give her notice, but he dreaded his mother learning about the affair. Besides,” he added ironically, “whatever her faults, Grace was an excellent parlourmaid whom even Lady Valeria would not lightly dismiss.”

  “Her ladyship was ignorant of the affair?”

  “He thought so. I thought not, but of course I couldn’t be sure.”

  “Mr. Parslow seems to confide in you a great deal, Mr. Goodman.”

  “You have obviously learned a great deal about the family, Chief Inspector,” Ben said pointedly. “In his circumstances, are you surprised?”

  “Perhaps not,” Alec admitted.

  He went on to ask a few questions about Sir Reginald. Ben obviously regarded his nominal employer with fond amusement, mingled with respect for his expertise in his chosen sphere and a touch of exasperation at his inability to stand up to his wife.

  Daisy doubted whether Sir Reginald, a benevolent but inattentive father, had more than an inkling of what was going on in his household.

  “I’d better see him next,” Alec said, “since the ladies of the house are out. How do I get to the dairy?”

  “You can drive,” Ben told him, “but you have to go right around the park so it’s much quicker to walk if you don’t mind the rain. It’s less than half a mile on foot—just far enough for the noise and smells not to trouble her ladyship. Ask Moody for an umbrella if you haven’t brought one.” He explained how to find the footpath Sir Reginald used several times each day.

  “Thank you for your help, Mr. Goodman.” Alec stood up. “We’ll leave you to your paper-work. I just wish I could send you to London to deal with mine.”

  Daisy smiled at Ben, then she and Alec left the library together.

  “He’s worth ten of Parslow,” Alec observed as they returned to the Long Hall. “It’s a pity Lady Valeria refused to take him south. He looks a bit dicky to me.”

  “He seemed quite well when I first met him,” Daisy said. “I think seeing the body in the trench must have revived memories of the War. I know people who still have nightmares about the trenches.”

  “Yes, I was really better off up there in my paper and string kite. Oh, here are your photos, minus the body in the trench.”

  “Thanks. How much do I owe you for them?”

  “It’s on Scotland Yard.”

  “Spiffing!” Daisy returned to business. “I’m glad Ben couldn’t have done it.”

  Alec raised his fierce eyebrows at her. “He couldn’t?”

  “I shouldn’t think he’s strong enough, for a start.”

  “With the right weapon, it doesn’t take vast strength to crush a skull. As for the digging, desperation lends strength, and whoever did it must have been desperate to conceal the body.”

  “But he had no motive.”

  “We may yet discover one.”

  “And he needn’t have shown me the Winter Garden, nor told Owen to show me when he was called away.”

  “That’s not a convincing … . Great Scott!”

  “You there!” From the Yellow Parlour a whirlwind in a purple rain-cape erupted and stormed towards them. “You! Inspector Treacher, or whatever you ca
ll yourself.”

  “Detective Chief Inspector Fletcher, ma’‘am, C.I.D.” Despite his start on seeing Lady Valeria, Alec spoke calmly. Daisy decided he’d be better off without her to worry about so she stepped aside, pretending to study one of the portraits on the wall. Nothing in the world could have made her leave.

  “What the dickens do you mean by it, Fester,” she trumpeted, eyes glittering in a face suffused with fury, “sneaking into my house without permission in my absence? That’s a crime, C.I.D. or no C.I.D.”

  “Your servant admitted me, Lady Valeria. I have spoken to your son, who is not, I think, a minor.”

  “Without a solicitor present!”

  “There’s no question of charges,” said Alec mildly, “at present.”

  “Charges—I should think not!”

  “But if you wish to contact your solicitor … .”

  “Certainly not. That pusillanimous poltroon would only advise me to cooperate with the police, which I have no intention whatever of doing. Your presence in my house is absolutely unjustifiable. Kindly leave at once.”

  “I’d prefer not to have to invite you to accompany me to a police station for an interview, ma’am. Certain matters which have been brought to our attention … .”

  “Rumours! Gossip! Since when do your precious police listen to tittle-tattle?”

  “Oh, since forever, ma’am. How else should we ever find out what’s going on? But in this case, Mr. Parslow has confirmed that he was … intimately connected with Grace Moss. You cannot expect us to overlook that.”

  Lady Valeria attempted a frank bonhomie. “Young gentlemen have been seducing serving maids since forever, Inspector. It hardly calls for a police investigation.”

  “When the serving maid becomes the victim of murder, ma’am, it most certainly does. Further, when the young gentleman admits that she extracted a promise of marriage, which he had no intention of carrying out; when he admits to … .”

  Bonhomie vanished. “How dare you!”

  “When he admits to having told his sister and his mother of his plight and claims they offered to deal with … .”

  “You have bullied my poor boy into making up these ridiculous stories! You seem to believe you can treat me and my family as you treat the riffraff, forcing false confessions for the sake of solving your case. I’ll have you thrown out of the force for threatening respectable people. If you don’t drop this nonsense at once, I shall telephone your superiors at Scotland Yard.”

  Alec’s response was blandly unconcerned. “Go ahead, ma’am.”

  Daisy couldn’t contain her ire, though she did her best to hide it, knowing it would not impress Lady Valeria. Joining them, she said sweetly, “I shouldn’t waste the effort if I were you. I’m perfectly prepared to swear on oath that Chief Inspector Fletcher’s behaviour was perfectly proper. If you complain, they’ll only assume you have something to hide.”

  “I have nothing to hide.” All the same, her bombast was noticeably diminished. “I found my son distraught. I merely wish to protect him from Machiavellian manipulation and protest against … .” Her protest died away as she turned a sudden scowl on Daisy. “But what is your role in this, Miss Dalrymple? You are a guest at Occles Hall. What do you know of this wretched business?”

  “At Sebastian’s request, I was present when the Chief Inspector interviewed him.” Daisy was perfectly prepared to reveal her part in summoning Scotland Yard, but as she opened her mouth to continue, Alec silenced her with a barely perceptible shake of the head.

  “Miss Dalrymple has observed my work in the past,” he said smoothly. “She knows I threaten no one. I ask questions. Since … .”

  “You’re in league with this detective?” Lady Valeria demanded, outraged anew. She drew herself up to her full, impressive height and said haughtily, “I’m afraid, Miss Dalrymple, I must ask you to leave.”

  “I’m afraid, Lady Valeria,” said Alec, “I must ask everyone to stay until my investigation is completed.”

  She gaped at him, apparently too taken aback by his presumption to think of suggesting that Daisy remove herself to the inn.

  “Since you have nothing to hide,” he continued, “you can have no objection to answering my questions.”

  But that was trying her too high. “Bosh!” she exploded. “If you’re expecting me to pay the least heed to your impertinent inquisition, you may wait until Doomsday.” And in a swirl of purple cape she stalked out.

  11

  “Whew!”Alec wiped his brow with an exaggerated gesture.

  “Oh, rot,” said Daisy, “she didn’t rattle you in the least. You didn’t turn a hair.”

  “Well, no, though I was quite glad to have you as witness to the propriety of my behaviour. Can you imagine young Adonis in the witness box swearing to police brutality?”

  “You see, I am useful,” she hastened to point out. “Thanks for not letting her give me the old heave-ho. I really thought I’d had it, though in the circs I can’t honestly blame her.”

  “Not for that, no, but what a virago! I can see why half the county cries craven at the prospect of crossing her. And while she may not have rattled me, nor did she give me any answers. I particularly want to know why she suddenly put forward their departure for the Riviera.”

  “You’ll get what you want. You’re irresistible.” What could have been a horribly embarrassing statement was spoken so absently that Alec didn’t feel called upon to blush. It quickly became apparent Daisy was still pondering the social implications of staying on in a house where her hostess wished her gone. “I feel like a frightful snake in the grass, or cuckoo in the nest, or something. On the other hand, I’d feel worse if Lady Valeria had ever really welcomed me or gone out of her way to help.”

  “She hasn’t?” He had a sudden sense of being poised on the edge of understanding this curious family.

  “Not at all. Bobbie invited me, with her father’s concurrence, and her mother was furious because she hadn’t been consulted. Also, she disapproves of working women—‘well-bred’ women, that is,” Daisy added apologetically. “I gather she’s afraid Bobbie might follow my example.”

  “A truly shocking example.”

  Daisy wrinkled her adorably freckled nose at him. Irresistible, indeed! “Well, my mother feels the same way,” she admitted. “The other thing is, I think Lady Valeria may also wish me away because she doesn’t like Sebastian to meet eligible girls. She’s fearfully possessive, and if he married he’d escape from under her thumb, at least to some degree. Not that I flatter myself he’s at all attracted to me!”

  “No?” Alec made his voice carefully casual. “And you to him?”

  “No, though I was just a bit at first. But he hasn’t got the character to go with his looks, has he? Still, he did make me welcome and I listened to his confession to you under false pretenses. I think I’d better make my peace with him myself, if you don’t mind.”

  “And even if I do, no doubt. All right, go and talk to him, but no questions, mind. And make sure he knows I know you’re with him. I don’t want to be digging your body out of the Winter Garden.”

  The freckles stood out on her suddenly pale face. She shook her head violently. “No, he wouldn’t! I don’t think he possesses a temper, and even if he does, the only thing in the Yellow Parlour he could hit me with is the backgammon board.”

  Alec smiled but said seriously, “Be careful, Daisy. I’m pretty sure you’re in no danger now that I’m here, but I’d never forgive myself if you were hurt. I’m going down to the dairy to see Sir Reginald.”

  Since she didn’t beg him to wait for her, he guessed she considered the baronet a highly unlikely suspect. He might have useful information, though; or she might be wrong.

  The moment Daisy saw Sebastian, she was sure she wasn’t wrong about him. No one could have looked less like a brutal murderer. He was still sitting in the chair by the backgammon board, his forehead pillowed on his folded arms on the edge of the table, his bowed should
ers shaking.

  She was about to back hurriedly out but he heard her and raised his head, though he kept his face turned away from her. “Daisy?” he said in a thick voice.

  “Yes, I … .”

  “I knew you’d come back to finish the game. I’m afraid I’ve knocked the pieces all over the place.”

  “It doesn’t matter. I have something to say to you but it can wait.”

  “No, it’s all right. Come in.” He straightened, made a half-hearted effort to rise.

  “Don’t get up.” She crossed to the chair opposite him and sat down. Fidgeting with the backgammon pieces, she carefully kept her eyes from his face, but a brief glimpse had showed her red-rimmed eyes and eyelashes spiked with tears. “I want to apologize. I ought to have made it clear to you that I know Chief Inspector Fletcher. In fact, I asked him to come because I don’t believe Owen Morgan killed Grace.”

  “That’s all right. It doesn’t make any difference. Nothing makes any difference,” Sebastian said hopelessly, “except that somehow my mother manages to make everything seem ten times worse.”

  “I know what you mean,” she said with sympathy. “My mother’s difficult, too, though in a different way.” Mentally she begged pardon of the Dowager Lady Dalrymple, who was a saint compared to Lady Valeria.

  “Is she?” He brightened, as if it had never dawned on him that other people had awkward parents. “Does she treat you like a child and stop you doing everything worthwhile or interesting or … or just that you want to do?”

  “She tries. I don’t let her.” Daisy had not forgotten her promise not to interfere, but her promise was to Alec and concerned the case. What was on her mind now had nothing to do with the case. “Lady Valeria can’t really stop you, if you stand up to her and stick to your guns. You’re of age and Bobbie told me you have money of your own.”

  “Not a great deal.”

  “I’m sure she said you have enough to live on.”

  “Yes, but … .” He bit his lip fiercely, fighting for composure. “Thank you for your encouragement, but you don’t—you can’t understand. There are other problems … .”