by Wendy Vella
Catherine quickly glanced at Lord Raikes and was surprised to find that he did not deny it.
The Duke ignored the murmurs. Instead, he continued eyeing Lord Raikes as he spoke, “Now, why would you have any reason to murder my sister? You had the means and no alibi. You were awake at the time of the murder by your own admission, but what could be the reason? I think you were afraid Lady Babbage would never let Catherine go. You saw the depth of her possessiveness.”
“I am sorry to spoil your theory midway, Your Grace,” Lord Raikes interrupted, “Lady Babbage had encouraged me to pursue Catherine and forget Emma.”
“We have only your word to prove that, but let us assume you are speaking the truth. She encouraged you in your efforts to woo Catherine. Let us even assume she allowed you two to marry. Tell me, Lord Raikes, do you think a change in marital status would have affected her hold on my daughter? She had years to work on her charge. She had ample time to mould her into a perfect, biddable girl who did as she was told. You saw how submissive my daughter was, and you were not sure if you could ever free Catherine from my sister’s clutches. You are also a passionate man, and I think your love is all consuming. You cannot bear to share the one you love with anyone else. You love her enough to want her to grow into her own person. The only way she could be a confident and secure young woman was if her aunt were removed from the scene.”
“It sounds a bit improbable, Sir,” the Earl commented.
“I am surprised to hear you say that. You know him best and are surely aware of his past. He did not return to England for ten years because his first love refused to have him. Can you fathom what a man of such deep emotions is capable of? He fell in love once more, and this time he intends to have his beloved. He did not mention his indiscretion to me yesterday out of any sense of honesty or belief in my omniscience. He told me what occurred truthfully because he knew the result. I would have no choice but to get the two of them wed as soon as I possibly could.”
Lord Raikes stayed silent, neither confirming nor denying anything.
The Duke gazed at his future son-in-law and smiled, “He will not proclaim his innocence until he is sure that Catherine is safe from the gallows. Would anyone like tea or some wine?”
No one bothered to reply.
The Duke shrugged and refilled his own glass; taking a sip he continued, “Emma now has two people who can vouch for her actions on that fated night. Though, she did have a motive . . . her concern for her cousin. She loves her as a sister. No one else knew the depth of Lady Babbage’s effect on Catherine better than Emma. She could see how her cousin’s spirit was slowly and steadily being crushed. Emma is a fighter and she fights for those she loves. She was the only one who my sister could not push away or bully. She stuck steadfast in her love for Catherine, coming every summer in spite of all the curtailments. How could she see Catherine suffer every single day and not do anything about it?”
“Her alibi?” Nutters interrupted.
“Pickering could have fallen asleep. The Earl and Emma may have been aware of being followed and worked together to kill my sister once the coast was clear.”
The Duke fell silent. The others stirred as if awakening from a trance. They waited a few moments for the Duke to continue and when he did not, they moved to pour themselves tea or wine.
Soft murmurs soon became louder as they all discussed the Duke’s observations. The clock chimed ten and they wondered if no more was to come.
Pickering entered the room with a tray of refreshments, dispelling the thought that the session was now over. They were in for a long night.
No one had any desire to eat, and the Duke finally gestured to Pickering to remain, “It is not pleasant talking about people I love in such a ruthless manner. I am being as impartial as I can. It would not be fair if I only dissected the strangers or friends present and spared my own family. It pains me as much as it is hurting all of you. Mr Barker, would you like a cigar?”
Mr Barker jumped at the sudden change of subject and shook his head.
The Duke passed the box to Lord Raikes, and then continued. “Allow me to speak of your daughter, Mr Barker,”
Mr Barker nodded worriedly.
“Prudence was being blackmailed by my sister, and we all know that, since the evidence was found in the form of letters and the brooch. I will not go into details of what she was being blackmailed for. I hope anyone who is aware of the reasons will keep it to themselves. She has a strong motive and no one to vouch for her innocence. Now, I beg your indulgence a little further by discussing your wife.”
Mrs Barker fidgeted under all the eyes that suddenly turned towards her. She absently picked up a bowl on the table near her and dug the spoon into an elderberry ice. She did not lift the spoon to her mouth as she waited for the Duke to continue.
“She too was being blackmailed. She gave me her reasons, and unfortunately it was not the complete truth. After discovering the murder, I instructed Pickering and a man provided by Nutters to stand guard outside my sister’s door. It was lucky I thought of it in spite of my state of shock. Mrs Barker and Mr Barker were seen lurking around outside the door. They had no reason to venture into that part of the house as their room falls in the opposite direction. They have visited my home often enough to know their way around, so their excuse of getting lost did not sit well with me. I, therefore, searched through every piece of paper in my sister’s room and found the reason. Mr Barker was involved in the embezzlement of a large sum of money. That was the true reason for the blackmail. I suspected Mrs Barker was lying the moment she told me she was afraid her husband would find out about her extramarital affairs. Her husband, as we all know, could not have been unaware of his wife’s indiscretions, as she has no qualms flirting outrageously in front of him. I think he even encourages it to further his own means.”
Mr Barker, for once, remained silent. Mrs Barker had dropped a spoonful of ice on her lap, where it now sat melting into her skirts.
The Duke tapped an unlit cigar on the table. “I then conducted an experiment. I asked Nutters to go into Mrs Barker’s room when she was not present. I similarly entered Mr Barker’s room and closed the connecting door. The servants had already assured me that the door between their rooms has remained closed for years. They often know such things, and it would be too much of a coincidence if the door were suddenly opened on the night of the murder. I then asked Nutters to open the main door and slip out into the hallway. According to Mr Barker, he had heard his wife leave in the middle of the night. Imagine my surprise when I found that I could not hear a thing. I then requested a younger servant to take my place to ensure nothing was wrong with my hearing. He, too, could not tell when Nutters departed the room. I concluded that the two had planned to face my sister together. I am also sure they had an ugly argument with her. The reason was the brooch. My sister had failed to locate the basket left by Prudence. She expected the girl would come and see her that night with a valid excuse. She did not think Prudence would dare to ignore her instructions without an explanation. Accordingly, she had pulled out the brooch to gloat and kept it next to her as a reminder to Prudence as to who held the reins. She was a cruel woman. Instead, Mr Barker and Mrs Barker arrived in her room to reason with her. They noticed the brooch lying on the bed and realised who else she had been blackmailing; hence, they argued and perhaps in a heated moment . . . killed her.”
“We did not kill her,” Mrs Barker whispered, “It is true, we fought bitterly, for I could not stand the thought of my daughter being subjected to the same misery as I was. It was heartless to use such a young girl for her means. It was the first time that I knew of it, and I could no longer control my emotions. I was so angry . . . I could have killed her, but I did not!”
The Duke just glanced at her blandly and continued as if he had never been interrupted, “I had briefly touched upon the topic of Lady Babbage’s son yesterday. I want to expand on that and tell you some more about him. I had mentioned that each one
of you has seen him but not met him. His name is Joseph Babbage, and he has been working as an under-gardener on the estate. I was not aware of this until a few days ago when one of my men overheard him speaking to my sister. He was planning to rob the house on the night of the murder. That is why I had requested Pickering to bar the entrance to the servant quarters and stay within the main house.”
“So did he kill her?” the Earl asked.
The Duke did not immediately answer. Then he spoke slowly, “I was told that a blonde man with a knife was seen in the corridor. I had assumed our killer was Joe. It would have been a convenient solution that protected every member of my family, and I would have gotten rid of the rogue. Unfortunately, he became aware of the fact that I knew of his planned robbery. Lady Babbage may have overheard my conversation with Pickering and warned him. I do not know for sure. He left right after dinner and went to the local pub in the village. He drank himself into a stupor and passed out on the table. The pub owner threw him out on the street, where he lay until the morning. I did not believe his story until the villagers confirmed it.”
“Then who is the blonde man?” the Earl wondered aloud.
“There is only one man in this house who is tall and blonde, and that happens to be . . . you, Lord Richard Hamilton.”
Chapter Thirty
The Earl turned white, and Emma emitted a strangled sound.
“Let me continue. I know you did not commit the crime, since Pickering followed you around the whole night in the mistaken belief that you had been convinced by Lady Babbage to rob me. He never liked the look of you, which as it turns out is lucky for you, since you have a watertight alibi from two people I trust. Yes, I trust you, Emma, because I know you,” the Duke said, looking at her, “I also believe you because your actions that night do not make sense otherwise. Why would the two of you hunt for proof that Lady Babbage was a blackmailer if you intended to kill her? What was the point if, by the end of it, she would be dead and Prudence safe? You had no idea Pickering was following you or that I had asked him to stay that night. Even if you had somehow found out, this whole act of hunting for the note just to ward off suspicion did not make sense. What could you gain by it? The murder would not have been made any easier.”
He turned to address Mr and Mrs Barker, “You also had a reason to commit murder, and you were the last to see her alive. I again question your actions on that night. If you had murdered my sister, then the last thing you would want is to be seen returning from the direction of the victim’s room. The murder was planned, please remember, since the weapon used was a butcher knife which is not an object ordinarily found lying around in one’s rooms. It was not an act of momentary passion. If it were planned, then why, Mr Barker, would you allow yourself to be foolishly seen? You did not even attempt to conceal your identity. Now I come to the biggest question. If you or Prudence murdered her, then why in the world would you leave the letters and brooch in her room after the act? The letter referring to the embezzlement was still there, as well as the letters for Prudence. If you had left it as a clever ploy to ward of suspicion, then why did you try and return to her room later that day? If you knew the woman was dead, you could have fetched it all through the hours before the body was discovered. Mrs Barker is well aware of my character. She knows I will not let any financial misconduct go unpunished. In the same manner, why would Prudence kill her to conceal her secret and then leave the letters airing those very secrets out for all to read?”
He paused to take a deep breath. His eyes softened as he looked towards his daughter. He patted the arm of his chair, hoping she would come and sit by him.
She ignored him, her face expressionless.
The Duke sighed and swallowed some whisky to wet his dry throat. His voice lost its deep, musical tone, instead becoming ragged and rough as he continued to speak. “Catherine and Lord Raikes, why did I discount them? Let me start with Lord Raikes. I spent considerable time learning his character. I knew my daughter was growing attached to him, and Lord Raikes never tried to hide his feelings. I know he is an intelligent man and well-travelled. I also know he studied medicine along with Lord Hamilton. If a man like that had to commit murder, what would he do? He would use his experience and knowledge. He would do the job so neatly that no one would be able to tell that the death had not been natural. He understands medicine and he understands poison. He could have used some rare roots to bring about heart failure or leaves to cause a death coma. Why would he not slip some deathly herb into her cup instead of stabbing her with a knife? The knife made it obvious that it was murder and that meant Catherine could be implicated. He loves Catherine, and the last thing he would want is to have suspicion fall on her.”
He turned once more to face his daughter, “You must be wondering by now why I first give a long speech implicating everyone and then spend the next hour proving how they are innocent. I am not doing this because it gives me any perverse satisfaction. The reason is that I want the murderer to know why everyone else is eliminated and how no other suspect is left. I do not want the person to have any room to escape what is coming. The murderer is well aware of all the motives each one of you had. Your actions prove your innocence, trapping the murderer. So I beg you to indulge my monologues a little longer.”
The people in the room became tense, realising that not many of them were left to be analysed. It was becoming increasingly obvious that the Duke knew who had killed his sister and he was patiently and methodically eliminating each one of them, moving closer to the culprit.
“I know that if I beseech you to believe me, on the basis of a father’s insight, that his daughter did not commit such a heinous act, then no one would believe me. Therefore, I must strive to convince you with practical deduction. If Catherine had killed her aunt, then she could hardly expect her own father to call her out for it. She would have felt safe committing the crime making her the most dangerous and obvious suspect.”
Lord Raikes gripped Catherine’s hand, his eyes like two deep, dark wells of fury. She gave him a strained smile and nodded for her father to continue.
The Duke looked away from the entwined hands choosing to pin his gaze on the blazing fire instead. “We know that the murder was committed after Mrs Barker left my sister’s room just after one in the morning. Around that time Catherine visited Lord Raikes in his room and he followed her back to her room. Prudence was witness to the fact.”
Prudence nervously murmured an agreement.
The Duke looked up, his emotions no longer in control. He spoke quickly and agitatedly, “Imagine for a moment that she had planned the entire thing. At one o’clock, she sat ready and waiting aware that in the morning I would investigate my sister’s death. In such circumstances, would she go to a strange man’s room, a man she believed was her beloved cousin’s betrothed before venturing off to kill my sister? Would she do so knowing that questions would be asked and Lord Raikes would have to confess his night’s activities? Prudence saw her as well, and even if Raikes decided to keep silent, she might not. And since Lord Raikes went to Catherine’s room, which is closest to her Aunt’s, he would have been the other person implicated. Her growing regard for him is obvious. A murderer would have ensured that he or she stayed out of sight, and, yet, she knew at least two people saw her out of bed at the time of the murder.”
He then called Pickering to his side.
“You are all wondering why I have not suspected Pickering? Why have I left him off the suspect list from the very beginning? What has he done to deserve my trust? Again I must convince you through deduction rather than sentiment. Lady Babbage refused to acknowledge anyone not of her class. The amount of money her son required was large. A mere butler could not provide such sums on the salary he makes. He has been my eyes and ears for a long time. He was the first person to discover my sister’s dark activities. He did not wait for proof, but immediately informed me of what he had discovered. He knows me well enough to not dither on such important matters. I knew
he had no reason to lie to me. Now, what could he gain from murdering my sister? Did he hold a secret infatuation for her and was denied her favours? Or perhaps she had slighted him on more than one occasion. He works in the kitchen and could easily procure a knife. He knew of the blackmail being conducted and how many people had a reason to kill her. It would be difficult to pin it on one single person. He could have also been aware of all those people who were out of bed that night, giving him the perfect opportunity. He knew of at least two people, Emma and the Earl. He had even noticed Mr and Mrs Barker awake on the night of the murder. He had my permission to roam the house that night. What could be a more ideal situation?”
Mr Barker and the Earl leaned forward in their seats. Pickering stuffed all his fingers in his mouth to muffle the sound of his chattering teeth.
The Duke sent the butler a reassuring look. “He did not kill her for those very same reasons. He knew I was aware he was within the household that night. A servant would never believe he would be trusted over other members of the household. Unfortunately, they are the first to be suspected. If you remember, upon hearing of my sister’s murder, Mr Barker immediately said that a servant did it. The last thing Pickering would have used to commit the crime was the butcher’s knife, for it came directly from the kitchens, and hence pointed straight at him. The moment my eyes fell on the blade, I knew he was innocent.”
“But then what about the blonde man seen roaming that night with a blade. Who was he?” Nutters asked, caught in the web the Duke had been weaving.
“Precisely! That is why I must now come to its source.”
Everyone turned to stare at the last person left to be discussed.
“There was only one person who always had a reason to roam at night, only one person whose presence in the hallways at one in the morning would be overlooked as a common occurrence. The insinuation that a blonde man with a blade committed the crime came from the mouth of my dear wife, the Duchess. She had been aware of my sister’s dark habit of blackmailing people. She knew who was being blackmailed and how many people had reason to do away with her. She was the only one who had no reason to remove the incriminating blackmail letters. She was also aware of Joe’s existence. That is why the entire drama of seeing a vision or a ghost of a tall blonde man with a blade was played out for my benefit. What she did not know was that I had the doors locked that day or that Pickering was keeping so close an eye on things. The fates played a cruel joke on her. Everyone was out of bed that night, in a sense aiding her plans, though their actions that night proved their innocence. Even Joe had been lucky enough to get inebriated—”