Crowned and Dangerous (A Royal Spyness Mystery)

by Rhys Bowen

Not much joy tonight.

  We were a somber group as we drove up to Mountjoy. We had stayed until help arrived. Of course Barney was quite dead, having pitched forward and hit his head against the windscreen.

  “He must have taken that sharp bend too fast and skidded over the side,” Darcy said in a shaken voice. “Poor man. You saw how easily something like that could happen.”

  I did see. In fact I was still shivering. But a whisper was nagging at the back of my mind. I had asked Barney about Professor Peabody, and he had died. And Mickey had observed us on his way to the pub. Had he waited until we drove off, then asked Barney to drive him, and then orchestrated his death? Hit him on the head and then taken off the brake and headed him for the river, maybe? It was now clear to me that this whole business was much more than a burglary gone wrong, a simple feud. It was well thought-out and I suspected that Mickey was at the heart of it. I prayed that our fingerprints would reveal something of importance.

  “You were brilliant to save us, Darcy,” Zou Zou said. “I hope they delivered my goodies before the weather set in. I am in desperate need of a glass of champagne, aren’t you?”

  “I thought you wanted tea and cakes,” I said.

  “That was before the tragedy,” she said. “One needs something stronger to bolster the nerves.”

  Oona met us at the front door. “Beastly night. Glad you made it safely. Dooley was getting worried,” she said. “Are you staying for dinner, Darcy? I’ve cooked the pheasant that Her Highness so kindly had delivered. I hope that was all right?”

  “All right? It was splendid,” Zou Zou said. “And I hope the champagne was delivered too?”

  “Out in the washhouse, keeping cold,” Oona said.

  “I’m afraid I can’t stay, Aunt Oona,” Darcy said. “I should get back to my father before the snow gets too thick.”

  “It’s a damned blizzard out there. We hardly ever see snow, at least not like this. I wonder if it will be a white Christmas.”

  It was funny but I had completely forgotten that Christmas was approaching. It was as if time had stood still since Darcy and I had driven north that night.

  “You have to stay and have a drink first, Darcy,” Zou Zou said. “Steady your nerves.”

  “Steady his nerves?” Oona asked. “What for?”

  “There was a nasty accident at the bridge,” Darcy said.

  “I thought I heard the bell of a police car,” she said. “What happened?”

  “It was the taxi from Kildare.”

  “Poor old Barney? We’ve used him a few times when Dooley didn’t feel like driving. Nice chap. A bit too friendly. Or should one say nosy. Is he all right?”

  “He’s dead,” I heard myself saying. “His car went into the water.”

  “How terribly sad. What a shock for you to come upon that. A cup of tea, do you think, or something stronger? Brandy?”

  “I think we should open a champagne,” Zou Zou said. “Not that we’ve anything to celebrate, but I find it always goes down well at moments of stress.”

  “Good show. Brilliant idea,” Oona said. “I’ll tell Treadwell. He’s making apple dumplings with the help of your girl, Georgie. I must say she’s a good little cook.”

  “Queenie?” I asked. “She’s a good cook?”

  “Yes. And so willing. She was obviously so upset by what she did last night that she’s been trying desperately to be helpful.”

  This did not sound like Queenie at all. I was almost tempted to tiptoe into the kitchen and see if her body had been taken over by one of the family ghosts, when the girl herself appeared, carrying a tray.

  “Mr. Treadwell told me to bring these through to the sitting room,” she said. “They’re cheese straws. Just came out of the oven.”

  She looked around for somewhere to put them. As usual there was no clear surface. But Oona stepped up and took the tray from her. “I’ll pass them around, my dear. Will you make sure the table is laid in the dining room? We’ll be four for dinner. Mr. O’Mara will not be staying, I regret to say.”

  I waited for her to say “Bob’s yer uncle” but to my astonishment she said, “Very good, Lady Whyte.”

  Champagne was poured. Cheese straws were handed around as we related the events of the day.

  “I knew young Thaddy couldn’t have done it,” Dooley said. “Now the truth will come out. Well done.”

  “We’re not home free yet, Uncle Dooley,” Darcy said. “Chief Inspector Callahan will take some convincing. But at least he’ll be held up from going ahead with the trial until all the facts are in, and that could take a while.”

  On that somber note Darcy bade us farewell. I followed him to the front door, where he gave me a chaste but tender kiss.

  “Take care of yourself, won’t you?” I whispered.

  He gave me a questioning look.

  “I’m wondering whether Barney’s death was an accident, and I’m beginning to believe that Mickey is at the bottom of this whole thing. He watched me talking to Barney earlier when I asked him about Professor Peabody. And a little while later Barney is dead. You and your father should take extra care.”

  Darcy nodded. “But if he is behind all this, then why wait this long to kill Roach? He’s been with him—what—four years? Plenty of opportunity to kill him before then and plenty of chances to make it look like an accident too. Kilhenny is an old castle. There are crooked steps, dark corners, lots of opportunities to give someone a push.”

  I had to grin. “If we ever live there and I come into money, then I’ll watch my back.”

  “Are you likely to come into money?” he asked. There was the slightest hint of a smile on that worried face.

  “I am the only heir to Sir Hubert Anstruther, remember. But he’s hale and hearty and not even fifty yet, so I’ll be ancient by the time he dies.”

  Darcy wrapped me in his arms. “We’ll manage somehow. We’ll survive on our own, if we can just get through this.” He kissed me again, this time with real passion, leaving me breathless as he ran out into the swirling snow.

  Dinner was a masterpiece. The pheasant was tender enough to eat with a spoon, the gravy rich and the apple dumplings perfect. I was relieved that Treadwell served at table and didn’t ask Queenie to help. I was dreading the thought of custard spilled over the princess’s dress. In fact I didn’t see Queenie until I went up to bed.

  “I’ve brought up a hot water bottle, my lady,” Queenie said. “I thought you’d like a warm bed.”

  “Queenie?” I looked at her. “I’ve had glowing reports on you today. What happened?”

  “Well, miss,” she said, looking down at her hands, “after what I did last night, I saw that I was a right bloomin’ failure, and what’s more, I was a discredit to you, who’s been so kind to me. So I decided I’d try really hard and make myself a credit to you.”

  I felt a lump come into my throat. “Why, Queenie, I’m impressed and pleased. And I hear that you are a good cook too. I never knew that.”

  She made a face. “Not really, miss. I just know how to make a couple of things and custard is one of them. And I did knock over a jug of milk, but luckily the cat lapped it up before Mr. Treadwell saw.”

  As she spoke, she helped me out of my dress and hung it in the wardrobe. Then she helped me on with my nightdress. “Anything else, my lady?” she asked.

  “No, thank you, Queenie. You can go to bed now,” I said. I felt a great bubble of happiness inside. Queenie was going to turn into a real lady’s maid and Fig was going to have to approve, and I would never have to worry. . . . I slid under the covers and recoiled as my foot touched warm wetness. I turned back the sheets.

  “Queenie!” I called as she was disappearing down the hall. She came running back.

  “Yes, my lady?” she asked sweetly.

  “My bed has turned into a lake. You didn’t put the stopper on the hot water bottle properly,” I said.

  “Nobody’s perfect,” she replied.

  We spent the next hour
drying the sheets in front of the fire. Luckily the moisture hadn’t been there long enough to soak into the mattress but I was cold, tired and crotchety by the time I finally went to bed. Would she ever cease to be a liability, I wondered. How could I keep her as my maid if and when I married Darcy?

  Chapter 33

  THURSDAY , DECEMBER 6

  A SNOWY DAY IN KILHENNY .

  The next morning we woke to a Christmas card scene with a sparkling snowy landscape and smoke curling from cottage chimneys. Darcy came over around ten, announcing that the snow was already starting to melt and it should be safe to drive where we wanted to go. We debated what we could possibly do until we got more news from Mr. Lennox at the embassy. Zou Zou was all for driving around and trying to locate Professor Peabody or the young priest. Darcy looked doubtful. “They could be anywhere by now and we don’t know when all the roads will be clear. I’m afraid we’ll just have to sit and wait.”

  “At least we can go and check on my poor little aeroplane,” Zou Zou said. “I want to know if it’s still in one piece.”

  “Are planes not supposed to withstand the elements?” Darcy asked, looking amused.

  “A little rain maybe, but not mountains of snow.”

  We drove toward the village. Men were still working at the site of the accident. A winch had now been attached to the taxi and they were attempting to haul it out as rushing water splashed over it. We skirted them and drove cautiously up the hill. As we passed through the village I spotted Mrs. Murphy standing outside the Harp, chatting with some women.

  “Wait,” I said, touching Darcy’s arm. “I’ve just thought of something that might shed some light on poor Barney’s death. I won’t be a minute.” I got out of the car and hurried over to the pub. Mrs. Murphy was about to go in at the side door when I caught up with her.

  She turned back as I called her name. “I was wondering whether the American man’s servant, Mickey Riley, often comes into your pub in the evening.”

  She nodded. “He’s been coming here for all his meals since the tragedy. Never says a word, though, or talks with the local men. Keeps himself to himself. Eats in a corner and then goes again. Unfriendly type, I’d say.”

  “I think I saw him going into your pub yesterday evening,” I said. “Do you happen to remember what time he left?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “It was a busy night, my dear. We’re always run off our feet these days, what with all the visitors from out of town. I remember seeing him, but that’s about it.”

  So I was none the wiser when I returned to Darcy and Zou Zou. Then Zou Zou insisted she had to visit her aeroplane to make sure it was all right. This time the constable on duty waved us past. Apart from a coating of snow on the tarpaulin, the plane seemed to have weathered the storm quite well.

  “As soon as the snow melts I’m going to fly around looking for this Professor Peabody,” she said. “I could cover so much more ground than we could in the motorcar.”

  Darcy had to laugh. “You can’t buzz every village, Zou Zou. And I feel you’d be rather conspicuous. We don’t want the whole world knowing what we’re doing. It would make more sense to ask at the train station and the harbor to see whether he has already left Ireland.”

  “You spoil all the fun,” she said.

  Lord Kilhenny opened the door warily, peered around it and scowled. “Oh, it’s you,” he said. “What do you want?”

  “What a charming greeting,” Zou Zou said. “Did you really mean to say, ‘Oh, how wonderful to see my son and his friends’?”

  I thought I saw a smile twitch at the corners of his mouth and realized I had rarely seen him smile once. “I suppose you want to come in,” he said, “but I can tell you, you won’t make me change my mind about accepting charity and this barrister I can’t afford to pay.”

  “You’d rather hang, would you?” Zou Zou said. “Your choice, of course. If it were me, I’d choose life.”

  “Because you have plenty to live for,” he said.

  “Recently, yes, but only because I came through incredible darkness, just like you. I saw my husband hacked to pieces. I had to flee for my life with just the clothes on my back. I had to rely on the charity of others to get me out of Poland, across Europe and to England, where I was made welcome by people who didn’t know me. I spoke good French but little English. I had to start from square one with my life, and look at me now.”

  He was looking at her. He nodded. “You’ve turned out quite well.”

  “I should bloody well say so,” she replied and he actually laughed.

  “But we won’t talk of barristers or crime today,” she said.” And we come with a special request. Your aunt Oona wants you to join us for luncheon. It’s leg of lamb. The Rolls is waiting outside, but we’ll wait for you to dress more suitably.”

  “Is this Aunt Oona’s idea or yours?” he asked.

  “The request came from your aunt originally but I added mine to it.” She looked at him long and hard. “Will you come?”

  “Very well,” he said gruffly. “I am fond of roast lamb.”

  Zou Zou shot a look of triumph at Darcy and me. We were waiting in the sitting room when there was a knock at the door. Darcy went to answer it.

  “Good morning, sir,” said a very Irish voice. “Are you the owner of the house?”

  “I am not,” Darcy said. “What do you want with him?”

  Curiosity got the better of me. I tiptoed to the door, followed in hot pursuit by Zou Zou, and peeked around it. A young priest was standing there.

  “It’s the annual collection for the children in the slums,” he said. “We try to provide some Christmas cheer for those in need.”

  “Were you here once before?” Darcy asked. “A week or so ago?”

  “No, that would have been Father Brendan. But he marked that there was nobody at this house at the time, so I’ve been sent out to do the follow-up, so to speak.”

  “Did Father Brendan try to go to the castle?” Darcy asked.

  “He did. He thought that there might be a generous donation because he’d heard that a rich American had moved in, and Americans are known to be free with their money. But he never got past the gate, I’m afraid.”

  Zou Zou pushed past me. “A donation you’re wanting?” she said and pushed a pound note into the tin that he carried.

  Like other men we had encountered while with Zou Zou, the priest actually blushed. “You’re most generous,” he said. “God bless you.”

  “Well.” Darcy turned to me as he shut the door behind our visitor. “So the priest was genuine.”

  “Makes one wonder whether Professor Peabody will also turn out to be who he said he was,” I said.

  “What about the University of Southern Nebraska?” Darcy asked.

  “I suppose the girls at the dig could have got the name of the university wrong,” I suggested. “Which means either that an unknown person was responsible for the murder or Mickey acted alone.”

  “I’m coming to believe the latter,” Darcy said. “Maybe he was waiting for orders from America before he did the deed.”

  I shook my head. “I still wonder why he went to all that trouble when you could so easily make a death look like an accident in an old castle.”

  “We’ll find out more when—” He broke off as his father came down the stairs. Lord Kilhenny had changed into a dark suit and looked remarkably handsome. And quite young too.

  Zou Zou went over to him. “Well, that’s more like it,” she said. And to my astonishment she slipped her arm through his and escorted him out to the motorcar.

  Oona was equally impressed when we arrived with him.

  “I never thought I’d live to see the day,” she said, her round face alight with joy. “Come in. Come in.” She pushed the dogs aside. “Dooley, look who has come to eat with us. Such a celebration.”

  “Not exactly a celebration, dear Aunt,” Darcy’s father said. “I’m still out on bail with a charge of murder hanging over me. B
ut I thought I should make peace if I’m about to meet my maker.”

  “Don’t say that,” Oona said. “You’ve got a good team on your side now. And you have the truth too.”

  With that we went into a splendid luncheon. Queenie helped to serve and didn’t spill anything. All in all, a day of miracles.

  Chapter 34

  FRIDAY , DECEMBER 7, AND LATER TH E FOLLOWING WEEKEND

  After so much frantic activity we sit and wait. This is hard.

  By the next morning the snow had turned to rain and the last traces of snow were rapidly being washed away. A gloomy dark day when a roaring fire and a hot cup of tea seemed like the best idea. Darcy came over after breakfast, saying that he had been into the village to telephone Sir Grenville and suggested that no meeting with my father should be arranged until we had more information from America. Zou Zou acknowledged that this was a smart move, giving us time to make him see sense. Nobody apart from her felt like scouring the countryside looking for Professor Peabody, but she made us agree that it was something we could do while we waited. I suggested that we might try Trinity College itself to see if he had presented his credentials there, which any visiting academic would surely do. That way we’d know if he was a fake.

  So we bundled into the car and drove through the rain. We ascertained that nobody of that name had visited the history or archeology departments. In fact we ran into our two graduate students who had been kept from their dig by the weather. From them we got a little more detailed description with which we then tackled the Dublin train station. A ticket collector did remember a large American gentleman asking for the train to Kilhenny, but then he added that the destination seemed popular with Americans these days. So not a definitive identification.

  We were tempted to go to the embassy but realized that it was still too early in the day for any results from Chicago. We’d just have to wait and be patient. We went back to Kildare and asked at the local pubs to see if Professor Peabody had stayed there, but drew a blank. So we returned to Mountjoy. It was hard to be patient and do nothing, but everything now hinged on the results from America.