by Rhys Bowen
“So there we are then!” Oona slapped her thigh, startling the dogs who were lying draped around her feet. “Now we know that he was on the run or hiding out, there are all sorts of people who might have wanted to kill him. That thickheaded inspector from Dublin will have to drop all charges against Thaddy. I’ll go and tell him myself if nobody else does.”
“It’s not quite as easy as that,” I said. “There are a couple of stumbling blocks. The manservant says that nobody came to the castle that day apart from Darcy’s father. And the only prints on the club were those of Lord Kilhenny. Rather damning evidence, I’m afraid.”
“Does Thaddy have any idea how his prints came to be on the club?”
“Oh yes,” I said. “He went up to the castle that afternoon. He had just learned that the American planned to auction some of the O’Mara treasures, including the Burda club. He was furious and told Mr. Roach, or whoever he really was, that he couldn’t do that. The club was on the table and he picked it up then.”
“Set up,” Sir Dooley said, suddenly sitting up straight in his armchair. “Quite obvious now. The whole thing was planned. Someone was planning to kill Roach and pin the blame on Thaddy. That’s why the club was conveniently on the table. And you say that Thaddy can’t remember a thing about that evening except that he got very drunk? I’d wager he was drugged. What if a sleeping draft was put in his whiskey?”
“Well done, Dooley,” Oona said, beaming at him. “I knew your superior brain would figure it out.”
“Then who could it have been?” I asked. “Apart from the manservant himself?”
“Why not the manservant?” Oona demanded.
“What motive could he have had?” I said. “If he had wanted to rob his master he would not have reported the death and would have been long gone by the time Mr. Roach’s body was found. And now he is without a job.”
“Then someone paid him to be party to the murder,” Dooley said. “Paid him well enough to keep quiet, or even to help with it.”
I thought of Mickey’s face when Zou Zou confronted him. He definitely had been wary.
“Maybe someone threatened him and frightened him into helping,” I suggested.
“Exactly. So all the police have to do is to find a way to make him talk,” Oona said. “And what’s the plan for you next?”
“I’m not really sure. We should try to locate this American professor, don’t you think? And the young priest? They were both seen close to the castle. Maybe one of them was not who he claimed to be. We suspect the professor invented a nonexistent university. And we understand that none of the neighboring parishes has a young priest.”
“Jolly good plan,” she said.
“But apart from that, we have to wait and see if anyone in America recognizes the man who called himself Timothy Roach, or if his fingerprints can be identified,” I went on.
“That could take weeks, couldn’t it?” Oona said. “Ship across the Atlantic, trains across the continent. It could drag on and on, and all the time poor Thaddy is hounded by the press and deemed a criminal.”
“Don’t they have ways of sending photographs by cable these days?” Dooley said. “I’m pretty sure I read that in the newspaper. That should speed things up.”
As I sat there, still feeling the effects of the wine I’d drunk at dinner, and the heat of the crackling fire, I was suddenly overcome with tiredness.
“I hope you don’t think it rude of me,” I said, “but I’m feeling awfully tired. Would you mind if I went up to bed? We can resume this discussion with Darcy in the morning. Maybe by then Sir Dooley will have come up with more brilliant ideas.”
“Off you go, then, my dear,” Oona said. “Should I have Treadwell send you up a hot drink?”
“Oh no, thank you. I don’t need anything.” I turned from one to the other. “Thank you for everything. You’ve been most kind.”
“Delighted to have company,” Oona said. “It livens up our boring lives, doesn’t it, Dooley?”
“Oh rather!” he replied.
I went up to bed, undressed and climbed in quickly as the room was chilly. No sooner had my head touched the pillow than I was out like a light.
I awoke suddenly, not knowing what had disturbed me. It was pitch-dark in the room, but somehow I was conscious that I wasn’t alone. Someone was standing at the foot of my bed. My first thought was that Sir Dooley had crept in, hoping for a bit of nighttime hanky-panky. But he was a frail-looking little man and the vague outline I could make out in the darkness was bigger than him.
So I moved on to my next thought: that my visitor was the ghost that haunted this room. I listened for the sound of breathing but heard nothing. Having grown up in a Scottish castle reputedly haunted by several ghosts, I wasn’t as terrified as some people might have been. All the same, I wasn’t exactly easy with a ghost standing at the foot of my bed. What did one do to make a ghost go away? Hold up a cross? No, that wouldn’t work, because plenty of ghosts were nuns and monks. My brain was refusing to work. Garlic? No, that was vampires, and besides, I didn’t happen to have any garlic among my possessions. I tried to remember what I might have read about exorcisms. Begone, foul fiend, and all that sort of stuff. Maybe this was a harmless ghost, just curious about me. Maybe it wasn’t. Unfortunately it was standing between me and the door.
I decided on the element of surprise. If I sat up suddenly and shouted at it, it might decide to leave. And at the very least, the dogs would hear and bring Oona or Dooley. I took a deep breath and sat up. “Begone, foul fiend!” I said in my most dramatic voice. “Go back to the netherworld from which you came and leave me in peace!”
The speech didn’t exactly have the effect I wanted, as the ghost gave a little shriek and promptly burst into tears. What was more, the accent was decidedly not Irish. “Bloody hell, miss,” she said between heaving sobs. “You scared the living daylights out of me. And after I came all this way too.”
I reached for the bedside lamp and the room was bathed in a soft pink glow.
“Queenie?” I exclaimed.
She was standing there in that hideous moth-eaten fur coat she had that made her look like a half-drowned hedgehog. Her hands were to her face and she was shaking with sobs. I got out of bed. “Queenie, I’m sorry. I had no idea,” I said, helping her to sit down on the bed. “What on earth are you doing here?”
“My family told me to come,” she said. “They scolded me for leaving you in the lurch. They said my place was with you, especially when you needed someone to take care of you at a time like this. So they had a whip round and came up with my ticket to Ireland.” She was still sobbing, her large body heaving as she spoke so she wasn’t easy to understand.
“I didn’t quite know how to find you. All I knew was that it was Lord Kilhenny you’d gone to. So I hitched a lift to the village and I went to the castle but there was a policeman at the gate and he said nobody was living there and I wasn’t allowed in. Then I spotted you, miss. You was walking through the grounds with another lady. I called out and waved to you but you didn’t hear.”
“That’s right,” I said. “I sensed that someone was looking at me, but I couldn’t see anyone.”
“And by the time I’d walked around the wall to try and find you, you’d gone. So I went back into the village and saw you drive past. I chased after you but you didn’t see me.”
“I did notice someone running after the motorcar,” I said, “but I thought it was another of those newspaper reporters who are camping out in the village.”
“I know, miss,” she said. “There was a lady reporter who spoke to me and took me into the pub and bought me a couple of pints of Guinness. Really nice she was, and quite delighted to find out who you were.”
Oh crikey. Now the beans really were spilled.
“But she didn’t know where you were staying, so I wasn’t sure what to do next, when who should come into the pub but Mr. Darcy himself. He nearly fell over in surprise when he saw me sitting there. Then he
was kind enough to drive me out to you, and the lady what owns this place said I should go up and see if you were already asleep and if there was anything I could do for you. So I crept in, real quiet like, to see if you was still awake.”
“Oh, Queenie,” I said, not knowing whether to laugh or cry. One had to admire her resiliency. She had managed to travel all the way to Kilhenny when she had never been outside the East End before she met me. I suppose I should have admired her devotion too, but I rather suspected that her family was desperate to do anything to get rid of her again. It would only have taken a day or so before she blew up the kitchen or set fire to the curtains. And now, in all innocence, she had revealed my true identity to the world. I could no longer go anywhere without being besieged by newspaper reporters. Darcy would be furious.
I managed to channel my royal ancestors and be gracious. “It was very brave and enterprising of you to come so far by yourself,” I said. “Has Lady Whyte shown you where you can sleep tonight?”
“Oh yes, miss. I’m up one floor from you. Little room in the attic. It’s not easy to get to the bed, because there’s so much stuff piled on the floor, but it will do. It don’t really matter now that I’ve found you, and I expect I can tidy it up in the morning.”
“Then you’d better go up to bed now,” I said. “I expect you’re very tired.”
“Oh yes, miss. Right knackered, I am.”
“And hungry, I expect.”
“No, I’m all right there. Some nice gentlemen bought me a meat pie and peas at the pub. Ever so friendly they all were. Good night, then. I’ll see you in the morning.”
And off she went, leaving me staring at the ceiling in horror. Not only was Queenie back in my life, but she had apparently told the entire press community that I was in the vicinity. Oh crikey, I muttered again.
Chapter 28
WEDNESDAY , DECEMBER 5
Queenie is back. Oh crikey. More things to worry about. Please let her behave well and not disgrace me.
In the morning there was no sign of Queenie as I got up, washed and dressed. I came downstairs to find Oona bustling about, laying a table for breakfast.
“Ah, there you are. Did you know that your maid arrived last night? I told her not to wake you if you were already asleep.”
“She didn’t wake me,” I said. “In fact she stood silently at the foot of my bed and I mistook her for the ghost.”
Oona gave a big fruity laugh. “A little too solid for a ghost, wouldn’t you say?”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I had no idea she would follow me to Ireland. I sent her home to her family but they managed to convince her that her place was here with me.”
“Now, there’s devotion for you,” Oona said. “One doesn’t see that often these days. I thought Treadwell was the last of the devoted servants.”
I gave an embarrassed grin. “I think it was more likely that her family couldn’t stand her any longer. She tends to be a little disaster-prone.”
Absolutely on cue there came a great primeval roar of rage from upstairs. I couldn’t imagine what creature had uttered it. A bull elephant in full charge, maybe, but other than that . . .
Oona and I sprinted upward, one flight, then two. We found Dooley, still in his striped dressing gown, standing at the doorway to his attic room.
“Nooooo!” he yelled.
“Dooley, what on earth is it?” Oona asked, going to put an arm around his shoulder.
“Some bloody fool was here, or let the dogs in,” he lamented.
I peered past him and could see that a good part of the battle of Waterloo now lay in complete disarray, soldiers strewn willy-nilly over the floor.
My heart sank. I knew only one person who was able to create chaos in such a short space of time. Before I could answer, the next door opened and a bleary-eyed Queenie came out, wearing a voluminous nightgown, her hair standing up in spikes. “Sorry about that,” she said, pointing at the room. “I had to go to the lav and when I came back I wasn’t sure which door was mine. I knew right away when my foot kicked something, but then I couldn’t find the bloody door again. Don’t worry. I’ll pick them all up for you as soon as I’m dressed.”
“You can’t pick them up for me,” Dooley said, his voice heavy with despair. “You won’t know which regiment they belong to and exactly where the regiments should be. Look, you’ve got Frenchmen here among the Black Watch.”
“We’ll all help,” I said. “You direct and we’ll put the soldiers where you want them. We’ll have it back as right as rain, I promise.”
Dooley managed the ghost of a smile. “You’re a good, kind girl, Georgiana,” he said. “And I’m sorry. I’m afraid I flew off the handle. I realize it must have been easy for this young lady to mistake one door for another in the darkness.”
“Queenie, go back to your room and don’t come out until you are properly dressed,” I said, wanting to give the impression of a mistress who is in control of her servants. “And make sure this never happens again.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll put a chair or something across my door so that nobody can make the same mistake again,” Dooley said. He had already squatted down and was busily picking up lead soldiers.
“Leave that until you’re dressed and have got a good breakfast inside you,” Oona said. “Then we’ll do as Georgiana says and all help you. It will go quickly. You’ll see.”
Dooley nodded and shuffled away. I felt terrible for him. We went down to breakfast and, fortified by smoked haddock and poached eggs, returned to tackle the battle of Waterloo disaster. I instructed Queenie to go to my bedroom and stay there until given permission to move. I wasn’t about to let her anywhere near the battle. We had managed to rearrange several battalions (not so easy for one who is only slightly less clumsy than Queenie) when we heard the dogs barking and a shout echoing up the stairwell, “Anyone home?”
“Up here, Darcy!” Oona shouted back. “Only don’t let the dogs come—”
She didn’t finish that sentence as there was the patter of doggie feet on the bare treads and several dogs came into view. Dooley uttered another cry of despair and flung himself at the door, managing to shut it in the nick of time. He then opened it cautiously, a few inches, to see Darcy’s surprised face staring at him.
“Well, that’s not exactly what I call a warm welcome,” Darcy said.
“Not you, dear boy. The blasted dogs,” Dooley said. “We have just spent the last hour rearranging the disaster at Waterloo.”
“Disaster? I thought we were winning.” Darcy looked amused.
“We were, until a certain young person who shall be nameless blundered in upon my battle and wreaked havoc,” Dooley said. He stood at the doorway, allowing Darcy to enter while dismissing the dogs. Darcy squeezed into the room.
“You did this?” he asked me.
“Not me. Queenie,” I said. “She came back from the loo during the night and opened the wrong door. I rather wish you’d sent her back to England on the first boat, Darcy. You know what a walking disaster she is.”
“Sorry,” he said, smiling at me. “I knew you wouldn’t be thrilled, but there she was, having found Kilhenny all by herself and stuck with nowhere to go for the night, so of course I had to bring her here.”
“I know.” I gave a big sigh. “She really is the world’s worst maid, but she’s like an old dog that one can’t find it in one’s heart to put down. And she has a good heart.”
“At least now you have your maid and she can also take care of the princess when she comes here,” Oona said. “I don’t suppose she usually travels anywhere without her maid.”
“Oh golly,” I muttered. Queenie and princesses should never be uttered in the same sentence. At least this one had a good sense of humor. I suspected she’d need it.
“So are you ready to head back to Dublin?” Darcy asked me.
“We should stay and help Uncle Dooley put his battlefield to rights first,” I said.
“Oh, don’t worry about m
e, dear lady,” Dooley said. “It’s more important that you do everything you can for young Thaddy. I’m convinced that once they’ve got the goods on the manservant, all will become clear.”
“Got the goods?” Oona boomed. “Dooley, you must stop watching American films. Your language is becoming abysmal.”
Dooley shrugged. “I just thought, since we were talking about shady Americans, that I should use appropriate terminology,” he said.
I turned to Darcy. “Great-Uncle Dooley thinks that someone might have paid or threatened Mickey to help with the killing of Mr. Roach. Or at the very least paid him to keep quiet. He did seem most uneasy when Zou Zou spoke with him yesterday.”
“Well, we have his fingerprints now, and his photograph, as soon as it can be developed. So let’s see what the embassy can make of them. By now my friend in London will have been in touch with Washington and we may be offered a little more help. We’ll find out when we go there today.”
I collected my overcoat, hat and gloves, instructed Queenie not to open any doors, and to behave herself until I returned, and off we went in the Rolls. It was a bitterly cold day and I was glad of the travel rug over my knees. Threatening gray clouds were building in the western sky, promising rain or even snow. The sort of day when roaring fires and hot chocolate are more inviting than driving around the countryside.
“You must have got back to Kilhenny quite early last night,” I said. “I’m surprised Zou Zou didn’t ask you to stay—for dinner, I mean,” I added, making him smile.
“She did invite me—for dinner, I mean—but I wanted to come straight back to have dinner with my father. He seemed to have perked up quite a bit, actually. I think it was Zou Zou’s doing. She had quite an effect on him. Did you notice he had combed his hair?”