“And you are?”
“Oh, dear me! I am Mrs. Grenfell, the housekeeper. I do beg your pardon. I should have introduced myself immediately, my Lord, but I am not usually in this position. Mr. Flack would have normally greeted our guests.” She curtseyed again.
Ash shook his head.
“It’s Mr. Derwent, I beg of you. And Mr. Flack is?” He tilted his head towards the front door and enquired politely.
“Mr. Flack is the butler, my Lord.” She nodded towards the man on the straight backed chair who Ash could now see had his foot resting on a short-legged stool.
Ash regarded the man’s doughy face. A deep frown lay heavy on his brow, though if it were his usual demeanour or due to the apparent injury, Ash couldn’t tell.
“I see, but please, I insist. I am merely Mr. Derwent.”
The woman made a tusking sound.
“But my Lord, I do beg your pardon, I must use your title. The other staff, you understand. We cannot let standards slack. Especially as you be the new earl as of an hour ago. Well, more ‘n’ an hour, if the truth be told. Probably since last night, but as his Lordship was alone at the fateful time, no one knows exactly when it happened.”
Fateful time? Even more confused, Ash narrowed his eyes at the woman.
“When what happened? Is there something amiss?”
Mrs. Grenfell dabbed her eyes with a hastily retrieved handkerchief.
“Begging your pardon, my Lord I forgot, but of course you couldn’t have known. His Lordship was murdered last night! Someone stole in through the terrace windows and took the master’s life! Dreadful! Phillips had the devil of a fright this morning. Poor man is always as nervous as a bride on her wedding night, and that was even before discovering his master’s mutilated body, stone cold and stiff at his study desk.”
Ash felt his stomach lurch at the graphic description. He had seen bodies before, with owning a shipping line there was nothing unusual in that. Accidents happened. Fights broke out. Illness struck. Men fell overboard and drowned. All of the situations had consequences that he had seen before, but the lady’s description seemed a little macabre even for him. Mutilated, stone cold, and stiff? Good grief!
He glanced up. The buildings elegant and charming exterior mocked the obvious agitation of the staff gathered on the steps of Claiborne Hall.
“Murdered! How, and by whom?”
Mrs. Grenfell shook her head.
“Stabbed he was. Drove a knife right through the man’s heart! But we do not know who did it, though we suspect the stable master. Thomas Leyman! Now there’s a name to remember. Always was a surly fellow. It has been such a shock, I can tell you, my Lord. Mr. Phillips near passed out when he discovered the body this morning.”
Ash cast his eyes across the building’s facade again as he strode ahead. Was that a curtain on the upper floor that he saw twitch? Nothing else moved and he dismissed the thought from his head as he surveyed the chaotic scene in front of him again.
“Phillips is standing by the chair?” He enquired as he tried to put names to faces.
The woman nodded as she ran to keep up with his long strides.
“Yes. Mr. Phillips is the master’s valet. Er, I mean, was the master’s valet. Good Lord! He looks as if he is about to faint!” She exclaimed.
Confused again, Ash attempted to clarify.
“So it is Mr. Phillips who is injured?” The man was certainly pale enough, but the housekeeper shook her head.
“No, that’s Mr. Flack, the butler. The great fool slipped over on the newly polished floor last night. Twisted his ankle something awful and can barely stand. That’s why I had to take in the earl’s supper last night and why Mr. Flack never checked on the master later in the evening. He had already taken to his bed. Phillips, the master’s valet, promised to look in but apparently fell to sleep while reading his book and didn’t stir again until this morning. He is the pale one dancing about like a showman’s puppet.” She rolled her eyes, clearly unimpressed by the valet’s antics at the entrance. “An unfortunate case of nerves. He was bad enough before but it has been a lot worse since he swears he saw a ghost in the hall a few weeks ago. Rubbish of course. I’ve been here years and I never saw any such thing before. Blame it on the drink.” She added as an aside. “We all do.”
Drink? Ash increased his pace towards the front door and dismissed the talk of ghosts as he noticed the valet’s red veined nose. There were more important things to consider than brandy conjured spectres walking Claiborne’s halls.
“You are sure the earl is dead? Has anyone called for a doctor, and the constable?” He took the steps two at a time with the woman lifting her skirts and puffing along behind him.
“Oh yes, my Lord. Dead as dead can be. Stiff and all! Doctor Finch has been here a while. He is in the study with Mathews, the constable, who is trying to assess the facts even now.” She reached the top step and caught her breath as Ash nodded at the man in the chair.
“Flack?” He waved the butler down as he winced while attempting to rise. “Has the doctor attended you?” Ash enquired at the man’s grimace of pain.
Flack took a glance up and down Ash’s huge frame before he shook his head.
“I think he is a little preoccupied, but Mrs. Grenfell has done her best, my Lord. I think rest is the only remedy now, thank you for asking, though I don’t think my ankle is of much importance today. Dreadful morning. Awful!”
Ash’s eyes wandered over the other curious staff. They stared back at him in wide-eyed terror as if fearing what he might do. Odd. It wasn’t as if he had murdered anyone. He looked back at the housekeeper as it became obvious that someone was missing from the gathering.
“Lady Madeleine? Is she being cared for?” Concern filled him even though he had never met the woman. He remembered how dreadful he had felt when his own father passed away so suddenly. And he hadn’t the added trauma of his father being murdered.
Mrs. Grenfell nodded.
“Gertrude is with her as we speak, my Lord, though I am not sure who is comforting whom. ‘Twas an awful thing. The maid came upon Phillips when he had only just discovered the body. Fairly screamed the house down when she saw the paperknife protruding from his chest, she did. And then there was Flack hobbling about and getting in everyone’s way. He caused nearly as much mayhem as Phillips by almost falling onto the body when his ankle would no longer support him. That’s when I insisted he sit on a chair out on the steps and wait for you to arrive.” Now over the initial shock, the woman appeared more excited than horrified.
Ash became even more alarmed.
“Good God! But who would do such a thing? And where is Lady Madeleine now?” He waited while Mrs. Grenfell walked briskly ahead of him, their footsteps echoing as they crossed the hall’s polished floor.
She stopped outside a heavy looking oak door.
“The doctor took Gertrude and the mistress to her room. I believe he gave both of them a sedative.” She placed her hand on the door knob and lowered her voice to a whisper. “As to who would do such a thing, well, let’s just put it like this. Thomas Leyman has disappeared. The stable master hasn’t been seen since he had an argument with the master early yesterday evening.” She cleared her throat, gave a quick knock, and opened the door. “Dr. Finch, Constable Mathews, may I present Benjamin Asher Derwent, the Sixth Earl of Claiborne,” she announced before letting Ash walk inside.
Chapter Three
Suspicion Falls
The two men looked up as Ash found himself inside the surprisingly airy study. A curtain drifted in the breeze coming in through the tall windows that appeared to lead out onto a spacious terrace.
Ash let his eyes roam the darkly panelled room before they rested upon the dreadful sight of his predecessor lying twisted in a chair behind his desk, his mouth agape and his hands clasped around the shining silver handle of a knife. Blood had soaked into the front of the earl’s white shirt but from the dullness of colour, appeared to be drying rapidly.
“My God! It’s true. I was hoping for some mistake...” He gasped as the horror of the situation struck him.
The two men stood up from their bent positions either side of the corpse and came quickly around the desk towards him.
“My Lord.” The first man bowed. “Doctor Adam Finch, at your service. This is constable Mathews. He usually keeps order in town.” He introduced the man at his side. “Flack advised us of your impending visit as soon as we arrived. I am sure this is not how you envisaged the day would begin.”
“No indeed! Dr. Finch, Mathews.” Ash dipped his head in response. “This is a bad business. I was to meet with his Lordship today, but it seems I am too late. Do you have any idea who did this, and why?”
The constable glanced at the doctor before speaking.
“It seems that the stable master is the most likely suspect seeing that he is the only one missing from the household. Everyone else is apparently able to account for their movements at the time of the death, though I will be checking their stories of course.”
Ash looked at the doctor in slight surprise.
“You have ascertained the time of his demise already? Mrs. Grenfell wasn’t sure.”
Dr. Finch shook his head.
“No. Not the exact hour. That would be impossible unless I were the murderer. Which I am not,” he added quickly at the sudden gleam in Mathew’s eyes. He returned his gaze to the body. “Sometime last night, obviously, but as to when precisely, it is difficult to tell. The blood on his shirt is almost dry and rigor is well set so over eight hours ago at least.” He took out his watch before glancing back at Ash. “The earl was fairly regular in his habits and usually went to bed before ten. Last night might have been different due to it being the anniversary of his wife’s death, but even so, I would guess sometime before midnight.”
Ash let his eyes travel the room again. The curtains wafted and the sir in the room moved gently.
“The window was already open when he was discovered?” The summer was warm, it wouldn’t take long for a body to ripen. Someone may have opened it since discovering the earl.
But Mathews nodded.
“Apparently so. He often left the window open to clear his cigar smoke.”
Finch grunted in agreement.
“Sometimes I can barely find my patients in their beds for the smoke in the air. Fortunately the earl liked both his cigars and fresh air.”
Ash cast his gaze back to the desk. Some papers fluttered but had been held down by the half-full glass of brandy on the desk. It didn’t look as though the earl had intended to turn in for the night anytime soon before he was killed.
“Who was the last to see him alive?” Ash asked the constable.
Mathews raised an eyebrow.
“One would imagine it was the murderer.”
Ash pressed his lips together for a few moments before turning his head towards the doctor again. Perhaps he would get more sensible answers from the professional man.
Finch shrugged and looked at the tray on the side table by the mantle.
“Mrs. Grenfell says that she brought him his supper at about seven. She can’t give a more precise time. Flack was flat out on his back and she had all the added arrangements of your visit to attend to. She said that the earl was lucky she remembered to bring him a tray at all. She forgot Flack entirely until he rang from his room. She did say that she was in here for less than a minute. The earl was drinking brandy and doing the accounts as she left.” He glanced over the offerings on the supper tray. Several slices of bread, a pat of butter, a small block of cheese, pickles of some sort, and two slices of cake. One a dense fruitcake, the other a lighter looking sponge. A lone fork sat beside the plates. Nothing appeared to have been touched. Finch spoke again, pointing out the obvious. “He clearly didn’t bother eating it, but that is not uncommon. He rarely ate late.”
Ash followed the man’s gaze. The bread looked dry, the cheese a darker yellow on the edges and cracked. A blue bodied fly sat on the icing of the sponge cake. He gave a shudder of revulsion and turned back to the two men.
“Can we move him yet? It seems a little undignified to leave him sprawled there.”
The doctor shook his head.
“Not easily until his body relaxes again. Awkward position. Mrs. Grenfell had covered him with a sheet to preserve the man’s dignity, but I was about to remove the knife. The way his hands are clasped around it might tell us something.” The constable paled and turned his head away as the doctor walked back to the body and reached forwards. The man grunted as he forced the earl’s clawed fingers a little and peered at the knife’s elegant and decorative handle. “It is protruding at an angle suggesting someone might have used their left hand. Hmm, unusual, though not necessarily provable.” He moved the earl’s fingers a little more, giving just enough room for the knife to be removed from the body. The blade came out almost clean but he still wiped it on a cloth from his bag before holding it up for general inspection.
A letter opener? Ash considered the narrow blade. It was pointed but not razor sharp. He had one similar lying on his own office desk. A gift from Jane on their engagement. He didn’t know why he had kept it. Probably because it was useful more than for any sentimental reason. Not that he had ever heard of one being used as a murder weapon. It didn’t seem impressive enough to kill anyone.
“You would never guess such a thing to be so lethal. Hardly seems big or sharp enough to do any real damage.”
The doctor agreed with him.
“True, but the bluntest blade can have serious consequences if thrust into the right place. The evening was warm and the earl had taken off his jacket. Even this kind of knife would have gone through his linen shirt easily given enough force, but it must have hit something vital, by luck or prior knowledge of the internal workings of a body remains to be seen.” He frowned as he clearly realized the obvious conclusion to his statement. As the only doctor for miles, he had just pointed the finger of suspicion at himself. He cleared his throat quickly. “Or perhaps he had a heart attack due to the shock. His Lordship was suffering mightily. This hasn’t really changed anything, only hastened the inevitable.”
Ash took a pace nearer and without touching it, examined the knife again.
“Do you recognize it? Is it one of his Lordship’s own?” Definitely a paper knife. The silver handle was far too decorative for it to have been anything else.
Finch turned the knife in his hand.
“Looks like the letter opener he kept on his desk. Yes, see here. It was a gift from his wife. It is engraved on the handle. An anniversary present it would seem.” He pointed at a faded inscription. A date, a few words, and a name. Eloise. There was nothing more.
Ash glanced about the desk. A few letters, some invoices, and an account book littered the surface. A blotter sat nearest the earl. It seemed he had been in the middle of settling his bills. Ash looked at the two men.
“And the stable master would have access to this knife? Seems unlikely as it was a personal gift.”
The doctor shrugged.
“The earl kept it here on his desk. I had seen it often enough myself. Leyman could have picked it up with no trouble. His Lordship had been doing his accounts by the looks of it. The knife was probably right there in front of him. Simple enough to use it on the spur of the moment.”
Mathews nodded.
“Flack has reported seeing the stable master here. Leyman came to talk to his Lordship yesterday evening. Bad timing on his part, or rather bad timing on the part of his Lordship’s favourite mare. Difficulty in birthing her foal it would seem, but yesterday was the anniversary of her Ladyship’s death. The earl had asked not to be disturbed. Leyman refused to listen to the man’s instructions and entered the study regardless. Flack heard raised voices and the smash of a glass.” He nodded towards the hearth. Sunlight reflected off a multitude of shards. “Leyman apparently slammed out of the house a few minutes later, but he could have come back around
the house and gained entrance via the open window. The butler assumed the man had gone back to the stables, but after making some enquiries this morning, I found the mare dead beside her newborn foal, and the stable lad shivering with fear at what the earl would say.”
Ash’s frown deepened.
“And Leyman hadn’t returned to the stables since coming here the night before? Seems odd if he was worried enough about the animal to seek out the earl, and then not return to the sick beast. The stable lad was sure the man hadn’t gone back unbeknownst to him?”
Mathews nodded.
“The lad was adamant. Leyman never set foot in the stables after going to seek advice from the earl. The foal was born in the early hours of this morning. The boy hadn’t left the mare’s side all night. Did all he could to save the animal but he watched her die just an hour or so after giving birth. Fortunately the foal managed to take some of its mother’s milk before she succumbed. Young Aiden is hoping to hand rear the animal.”
Ash’s brow remained furrowed.
“But why would Leyman come back and murder the earl? Seems a little extreme. I cannot see that he had any motive to do such a thing even if they did argue. Are there others in the house with a grievance against my predecessor? Anyone with a more likely motive?” He wasn’t going to be the one mentioning it, but he couldn’t help but wonder if being the new earl he might also be a target.
Mathews rose onto the balls of his feet as a flush came to his cheeks.
“Well, yes, I suppose there might be.”
“Who?” Ash demanded instantly.
Mathew’s cheeks reddened further.
“His daughter.”
Ash thought his knees would give way, such was his surprise, but he managed to keep them locked in place.
“Lady Madeleine?” Did that lovely visage hide a murdering heart? He recalled her mother calling her ‘unconventional’. Did that mean she had a savage streak? The earl hadn’t mentioned any such thing in his correspondence. But then he probably wouldn’t. Though it might explain her lack of suitors. “You surely jest!” He hoped Mathew’s was joking.
An Unexpected Title (Suspicious Circumstance Book 1) Page 4