Murder Goes Mumming

by Alisa Craig

  “You may or may not be right about their being the only ones present, sir, if I may make so bold as to contradict you. The upstairs facilities had been visited by most of the party after dinner, and it is not impossible that one of them did not return to the Great Hall. Everyone’s being in costume does suggest certain possibilities, does it not?”

  “Such as what?”

  “For one thing, Mr. Herbert might have got one of his helpers to dress in a duplicate of that distinctive lobster costume and slip into the Great Hall in his stead for a brief time. I suppose that appears a farfetched idea.”

  “It’s worth considering, Ludovic. Would any of the men be willing?”

  “For a joke, and for an extra Christmas bonus, I should say any of them might be willing to do almost anything right now. They’re all bored and fed-up at not being able to go home to their families on Christmas Eve because of the storm. Baptiste would be about the right size and build to pass for Herbert. The difficulty would be in Mr. Herbert’s getting his aunt and Mr. Cyril into the hall at the same time. He could have had no way of knowing it would happen fortuitously.”

  “That may not have been part of the plan. Putting Aunt Addie out in the snow could have been a last-minute inspiration. A simple push down that crazy, twisting staircase would have been equally effective if Herbert’s main objective was to have her wind up dead.”

  “But why, sir?”

  “One can only conjecture. Perhaps Miss Adelaide knew her sister had been murdered and by whom. Perhaps she didn’t yet know but somebody was afraid she’d find out. Did those so-called presentments of hers ever work retroactively?”

  “Often, sir. I can testify to that.”

  Ludovic smiled ruefully. “On occasion, we have ladies of, shall I say, susceptible tendencies staying at Graylings. It was only this past August that a comely member of her sex found occasion to remind me privately that it is more blessed to give than to receive.”

  “And you and she were jointly blessed, eh?” Rhys grinned. “Ludovic, you devil!”

  “Those were more or less Miss Adelaide’s words some weeks after the lady had departed and the light dawned. I managed to convince Miss Adelaide that I was merely upholding Squire’s tradition of hospitality. At least, I think I did.”

  “What did Squire himself think?”

  “Fortunately he was not present at the time. Miss Adelaide and I were alone.”

  “Was that tact or just luck?”

  “Just luck, sir. Miss Adelaide was well meaning but never tactful. She would have said the same thing in front of a houseful of distinguished guests. It was her habit to blurt out whatever came into her head at any given moment regardless of the possible consequences.”

  “And everyone would have believed her?”

  “She did have this alarming way of being right, sir.”

  “Yes, well, that would be reason enough to put her out of the way if you’d just killed her sister, wouldn’t it? One would never know when Miss Addie might go off like a time bomb.”

  “Precisely, sir.”

  “Getting back to the notion of somebody’s impersonating somebody else this evening. You do think it would have been feasible?”

  “Don’t you, sir? There was the diversion of the Phantom Ship, then Mr. Cyril was striving to attract everyone’s attention to himself. He was standing under the kissing ball in the main doorway that leads out into the front hall, by the stairway. However, as you have doubtless observed, there are other doors, the one at the opposite end through which you helped to drag the Yule log, and a small one on the side where the fireplace is. This last door is now partially obscured by the large Christmas tree in that corner. It would not be any great feat for some member of the party to stroll around behind the tree, slip out that door, and have somebody else slip in wearing a similar costume. If the impostor remained more or less in the shadow of the tree, he could no doubt escape detection for at least a short time. You may recall that the battery lantern intended to illuminate the tree from behind had ceased to operate. It is no great trick to put a battery lantern out of commission.”

  “Good point, Ludovic. I can’t quite buy Baptiste in a spare lobster costume, though. For one thing, he seems a bit redundant since there were already three lobsters besides Herbert. With everyone moving around, as you say, three could easily pass for four. There would also be the problem of Baptiste’s getting out of that complicated arrangement of claws and feelers after he’d done his impersonation, without being caught and blowing the so-called joke. On the other hand, I can easily see Lawrence taking off that coonskin coat and porkpie hat for someone else to put on, or even Squire swapping his crimson robe and fur-trimmed cap. They’d be quick enough to exchange, and if Baptiste or whoever decided he’d better clear out he could just drop them and go. If they were found, it would be assumed the wearer had got too hot and shed his costume to give himself a breather. Where does that little door lead to?”

  “Into the back passage that runs to the kitchen and the woodshed, sir. We use it mostly for bringing in wood and so forth.”

  “Does that passage connect with the front hallway?”

  “No, but it does have a back stair leading to the second floor. One could easily go up the back way and down the front.”

  “One could, indeed. Do you think any one of the Condrycke men could have opened that front door single-handed under tonight’s conditions?”

  “I assume you are including Mr. Herbert and Mr. Lawrence, although their family name is White. They happen to be cousins. One does tend to think of them all as Condryckes, especially as there is such a strong physical resemblance. To answer your question, I should say yes. They are exceptionally powerful men. Even Squire is in remarkable shape for a man of his years. Whoever it was might have got Mr. Cyril to help, you know, and then run off leaving him holding the baby, as it were.”

  “Then why didn’t he say so?”

  “I don’t know, sir. Unless Mr. Cyril thought it was himself.”

  “Eh?”

  “Well, sir, a person could wrap a blanket around himself and stick a cap on his head; perhaps even pick up the one Mr. Cyril himself had been wearing and use that. I noticed it had fallen off in the fracas. Considering the state he was in at the time, Mr. Cyril might think he was confronting his own doppelgänger, if that is the word.”

  “Good God, man, you’ve missed your calling. You ought to be writing stories for fantastic fiction magazines.”

  “It’s just that I’ve known the Condryckes so long, sir. Dressing up as each other is one of their tricks.”

  “I might have known it would be.”

  “Oh, yes. Being so much alike, they can be amazingly convincing sometimes. Year before last during the mumming they all kept changing costumes until nobody knew which was who. Even the women passed for the men and vice versa.”

  “Everyone laughing heartily the while, no doubt. How far does this game of Happy Families go? For instance, did the younger generation dislike Granny as much as she appears to have despised them?”

  “I should say a lot of it was verbal, sir. They were used to her, you see. A good deal of resentment was expressed, but in some ways I think they were proud of her spirit. The late Mrs. Condrycke was what is known, I believe, as a conversation piece.”

  “One could always raise a chuckle with an account of Granny’s latest tantrum, eh?”

  “Something of the sort, sir.”

  “But were her outbursts really so terribly amusing? Didn’t they ever get ticked off to the point of retaliation? This business of stealing her teeth last night, for instance. It was funny, but it was also a damned unkind thing to do, embarrassing an old woman and making her miss what might be her last chance to do something she enjoyed.”

  “Quite so, sir. On the other hand, the gathering would have been less merry if she had been present. Mrs. Condrycke was not improving in temper.”

  “Going senile, was she?”

  “No, sir. Just nast
ier. Her mind was sharp as ever and her tongue even sharper. Not to speak ill of the dead, just giving you the facts, sir.”

  “So the teeth were taken as a deliberate effort to keep Granny upstairs, do you think?”

  “There is often method in the Condrycke madness, sir.”

  “Would anybody have an opportunity to steal the teeth?”

  “Anybody who was sufficiently bloody, bold, and resolute, sir. Mrs. Condrycke napped a good deal. While she was in the comparative privacy of her own suite, her teeth were apt to be kept in a glass of water on her nightstand. They did not fit so well as they once had, her gums having no doubt shrunk with age. She blamed the dentist and refused to go back to have them altered.”

  “Was it unusual for people to go in and out of her room without a special invitation?”

  “It would be the custom rather than the exception, though of course one went through the motions of requesting admission before entering. She resented visitors’ presence if they came, but complained of neglect if they stayed away. What she needed was a paid nurse-companion, but she refused to let one be hired. That would have given the family an excuse not to dance constant attendance upon her, you see.”

  “One begins to wonder why nobody thought to stifle Granny sooner. So in fact you had two autocrats on the premises.”

  “That’s what it amounted to, sir.”

  Rhys picked up the nuance in Ludovic’s tone. “And you’re wondering if Squire had decided there was room for only one.”

  The butler performed the unbutlerian gesture of scratching his nose. “I think Squire’s penchant for autocracy has been growing on him of late years, sir. Mrs. Condrycke’s habit of reminding Squire that he was in fact subservient to her grace and favor did not sit well, and such reminders have been coming more and more frequently. She has also taken to thwarting Squire in a number of his projected undertakings, whereas in past years she had been content to leave most matters in his hands. For instance, she sided with Cyril against Squire’s cherished plan to complete the electrification of Graylings.”

  “I thought someone said Cyril and Lawrence were the prime objectors.”

  “Mr. Lawrence is well aware of where the true power would lie. For so long as Mrs. Condrycke lived, Lawrence would have been able to come up with sound fiscal or legal reasons why her wishes should be obeyed.”

  “Thank you, Ludovic,” said Rhys. “I have found our chat most illuminating. I am now going to deputize you, if you don’t mind.”

  “I shall be honored, sir. What is it you wish to deputize me for?”

  “The most important job there is to do here. Stay where you are and keep an eye on my Jenny. Don’t wake her up. Just watch. If anybody tries to come near her with intent to harm, tear out his liver and stomp on it. That’s an order.”

  “It shall be obeyed, sir.”

  Rhys eased Janet ever so gently out of his arms. She murmured fretfully in her sleep and groped for his warm presence. It was almost more than flesh could bear, but the Code of the North is a stern one. After one last, frenzied embrace, Detective Inspector Madoc Rhys went back on duty.

  CHAPTER 18

  Back in the library, Janet slumbered on. So, if truth be told, did Ludovic. He was not required to commit mayhem on any interloper because nobody interloped and, like Rhys, the butler had developed the knack of dropping into light but refreshing repose whenever he got the chance.

  While these two enjoyed their peaceful interlude, Madoc Rhys prowled. Using his baby pocket flash and what little light there was from the ever-burning Yule log, he practiced slipping in and out of the Great Hall by the back door. He followed the service passage to a steep, uncarpeted staircase, went up it, and after one or two false turns managed to find the front stairs. Then he went back and did it again, this time pausing to imagine himself doffing a velvet robe or a coonskin coat and handing it to the confederate who would have had to stand cooling his heels until such time as an opportunity for the trick might or might not present itself.

  He’d taken careful note of the time when he set off the second trip and tried to move quickly, like someone who knew the house. Even so, it was no slouch of a clamber. Furthermore, it was damned cold because he’d had to run in sock feet in order not to wake those who were, if not rapt in slumber, at least now quiescent on the second floor. He went into his own room to put on his new russet-colored pullover under his dinner jacket and to ease his frosted toes into his fleece-lined slippers. He ruined the set of the jacket by stuffing his two-way radio into the breast pocket.

  The very model of a modern detective inspector, Rhys then unlocked Cyril’s bedroom door and found the prisoner having a nightmare, which didn’t surprise him, all things considered. He next visited the temporary mortuary where the two old sisters, Rosa and Adelaide, lay stiff and stark on the same bed. Their bodies weren’t going to tell him anything he didn’t know already. He borrowed the efficient battery-operated table lamp they wouldn’t be needing any more and went on with his explorations.

  Rhys explored for quite some time. It was well into the early hours of Christmas when he got back to the library.

  “Jenny. Jenny darling, wake up. I need you.”

  “I need you, too, Madoc.”

  She nestled into his sweater front and resumed her nap. Rhys, a well-read man, remembered a piece of advice once dealt out by Bertie Wooster’s infallible manservant. Jeeves had suggested the best way to capture a young woman’s undivided attention was to clasp her in one’s brawny arms and rain kisses on her upturned face.

  As usual, Jeeves was there with the goods when needed. Janet woke. So did Ludovic, although he had the tact to pretend he hadn’t until Janet was fully alert and Madoc able to get his mind back on his job.

  “Jenny, listen. I need you.”

  “I know.”

  She twined her arms around his neck and raised her lips again in happy expectation.

  “Not like that, love. I mean, yes like that, but not now. The thing of it is, I’ve found out who killed those two old women.”

  “Madoc! He’s not chasing you with axes and throwing knives?”

  “No, dearest, nobody’s after me with anything. You’re the only one who knows I’ve found out. Unless Ludovic’s awake. Good morning, Ludovic.”

  “Good morning, sir. Merry Christmas. Are you planning an immediate arrest?”

  “As to that, there’s a bit of a snag. So far I haven’t been able to drum up much of a case.”

  “So that’s what you need me for, eh?” Janet disentangled herself from her beloved and shook out her skirt. She was ready for action. “It’s one of the Condryckes, isn’t it?”

  “Oh yes. So I should think what we have to do is play a practical joke.”

  “Not a wiggly caterpillar like with Mad Carew?”

  “No, love, not a caterpillar. Listen.”

  Janet listened. Then she shivered. “Ugh! Must I?”

  “Not if you don’t care to.”

  “Madoc, I didn’t mean I wouldn’t. I just meant—well, naturally I will if you say so. It’s the only way, isn’t it?”

  “I don’t know, Jenny. It may not work at all. It’s just that my head’s not working straight any more because I’m so damned fed up with Graylings, and I’ve got to get you out of here somehow. Ludovic, what’s the best way to get them all downstairs before they’ve had time to think?”

  “We could ring the alarm bell, sir. We are very conscious of fire danger at Graylings. Squire is wont to hold unannounced fire drills. At sound of the bell, which is in fact a loud one, everyone is required to rush to the Great Hall for a nose count, and thence to safety.”

  “Would the bell wake the staff?”

  “Not likely, sir. Their sleeping quarters are in the cinderblock building at the far end of the barns. They have a separate battery-operated smoke alarm.”

  “Good. Then here’s what we do.”

  Rhys explained. Janet and Ludovic listened, goggle-eyed.

  “Now
, do you two think you can manage that? It’s not so difficult, you see, mostly a matter of timing.”

  “I just hope it will do the trick,” said Janet. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to talk about tricks. It’s,” she shivered, “not funny, is it? Anyway, I’ll try.”

  “Good girl. Now, Ludovic, would you normally be in the house at this time of night?”

  “Yes, sir. I don’t sleep in the dormitory with the others. My bedroom is off the butler’s pantry, near the kitchen.”

  “Then you’d better go put on your bathrobe and slippers in case you’re spotted. No point in getting you fired if we can avoid it. In any event, you’re to stay away from the Great Hall till it’s all over. Your job is to sound the alarm, then hare it for the attic. Can you get there without being seen?”

  “I’ll use the back stairs, sir. It’s faster anyway. If I should happen to meet anyone, I could say I was on my way to tell the guests what the bell was for.”

  “Never lie if you can help it. Just urge them to proceed with all haste. Now, how do we get the doings for Janet?”

  “They are in the kitchen, sir. I put them on the warming rack pending instructions.”

  “Excellent. You have a bathroom out there, I suppose? With a mirror? You’ll have to make do with flour or something, Jenny.”

  “There is talcum powder in the bathroom,” said Ludovic.

  “Ah, good. So long as it’s not heavily scented. Then I’ll go mend the fire in the Great Hall so there’s just light enough to see by and make sure that bulb’s still burning by the front stairs. We don’t want anybody breaking his neck on the way down. Two corpses around here are plenty. Is anybody apt to charge in waving a flashlight, do you think?”

  “I rather doubt it, sir. Everyone’s so used to having lights left burning in the hallways, you see, and they’ll still be half asleep.”

  “So are you, I daresay. I’m sorry to involve you in this, Ludovic.”