02 - Murder at Dareswick Hall

by Margaret Addison

  ‘You make a jolly good point, Inspector and what you say is very true,’ agreed Josephine, looking rather desperate, ‘And of course that’s what we were planning to do, only our plans were a bit upset by the arrival of Lord Sneddon.’

  ‘Ah,’ said Deacon, sounding interested for the first time since he had re-entered the room. ‘Now I think we may be getting somewhere.’

  ‘Yes, you see I’m afraid I got terribly upset by it all. I couldn’t believe that Hugh was engaged to be married to my sister. It was all rather a shock. There was a time, you see, Inspector, when I thought he was rather keen on me and I had feelings for him myself and I, well, hoped that one day… well, you can imagine what I hoped for. And then to discover that he was going to marry my sister and to know I was going to be forced to spend the whole weekend being nice to them, pretending that I didn’t mind at all, when really I minded a great deal. To have to wish them well and pretend that it was the greatest news ever. I just couldn’t bear it. So I told James that if his feelings for me were genuine then I wanted us to elope immediately, and so we did.’

  ‘That’s all very well, Miss Atherton, but if that’s the case, what made you come back to Dareswick? Why aren’t you in Manchester or Dublin or on board a ship heading somewhere further afield?’

  ‘Well…’ Josephine began, not at all sure how to continue, her imagination now completely having run dry.

  ‘They had second thoughts,’ Rose said, helpfully. ‘Josephine’s just been telling me all about it. When it came to the crunch, they just couldn’t go through with it. Josephine found she didn’t want to leave Dareswick and her family forever, which is what it would have meant, of course. And Brimshaw found that he rather liked being a chauffeur and didn’t really want the responsibility yet of providing for a wife.’

  ‘Yes, Inspector,’ Josephine agreed, readily. ‘We found that we had made the most awful mistake. So Brimshaw is going to continue working here until he gets another position and we’re just both going to pretend that nothing of this sort ever happened. You won’t tell anyone, will you, Inspector, especially not my father? He won’t take it at all well. It’s just so embarrassing, I just don’t want to think about it.’

  ‘Miss Atherton, if you do know anything about what happened here last night, or are connected with Lord Sneddon’s death in any way, then I must advise you that it would be in your best interests to tell me everything you know this moment. Not only is it withholding evidence but, more importantly from your perspective, it may place you in considerable danger. I do not want to find that we have another murder on our hands.’

  He was not to know then that his fears were to prove quite founded.

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  ‘Well, Lane, what did you find out from the chauffeur?’ enquired the inspector, as soon as Lane had come back into the study. He had let Josephine and Rose go shortly before, his dire warning ringing in their ears. ‘A deal more than I found out from Miss Atherton, I hope.’

  ‘So she wasn’t very cooperative?’ asked his sergeant, ‘or was the reason for her going all rather mundane and not connected with the murder at all?’

  ‘I’m pretty sure there is a connection between Sneddon’s murder and her sudden departure, but for the life of me I can’t think what it can be. She seemed genuinely shocked to hear about Sneddon’s death. I’m sure she didn’t know about it before she left. It’s possible I suppose, that she sent Brimshaw back into the house to get something for her and wonders whether he might have done Sneddon in, but I don’t think so.’

  ‘Did she tell you why she had left so suddenly or where she went, sir?’

  ‘Not really, Lane. She gave me some cock and bull story about eloping with this Brimshaw fellow and choosing to go when she did because her nose was put out of joint by Sneddon getting engaged to her sister after he’d been dallying with her affections some months before. To tell you the truth, I didn’t believe a word of it. I think our Miss Simpson suggested she gave us that story.’

  ‘Do you think Miss Simpson suspects she is guilty and is trying to protect her?’

  ‘Yes, I do. Certainly she seemed very worried about her friend. If I’m honest, I forgot for a moment that Rose was in the room.’ Lane looked up and raised his eyebrows, slightly taken aback by the inspector’s use of Miss Simpson’s Christian name. Deacon, it appeared, was oblivious to having done such a thing. ‘I reckon the inspector’s got a soft spot for her,’ the sergeant would later tell his girl when they returned to London, ‘you mark my words if he hasn’t.’ Now, though, he said nothing and the inspector continued. ‘It was damned stupid of me, of course. One of the constables called me out of the room to show me quite a vast sum of money that they had discovered in Miss Atherton’s luggage. So the two of them had the opportunity to get together and concoct the story of her eloping with the chauffeur.’

  ‘Still, it looks as if she was going away somewhere, doesn’t it?’

  ‘Yes, going away and not coming back by the looks of it. I wonder where she was going and what made her change her mind. Was that Brimshaw chap able to tell you anything?’

  ‘Not much. He said Miss Atherton called on him shortly before dinner at the garage. It gave him quite a turn to see her there, he said. She was all dressed up for dinner in a long velvet gown, he told me, and there he was looking a right mess with his shirtsleeves rolled up and wiping his hand on a greasy rag having been tinkering with the car. He was that afraid, he said, that she’d get oil or grease on her nice dress.’

  ‘Yes, well, never mind about all that,’ said Deacon, impatiently. ‘What did she say?’

  ‘She wanted him to drive her up to London as soon as the house had retired to bed. He tried to suggest that they go up first thing in the morning instead, but she was having none of it. She said that it was very urgent that she made the journey that night, and anyway she wouldn’t have the opportunity to get away the next day, not with the guests and her brother and sister being here. She said that they would be back before the house rose for the day, so no one would be any the wiser and she was quite happy for him to have a lie in today.’

  ‘I gather then from what you are saying that there never was any intention of their eloping?’

  ‘None whatsoever, sir. I put that very question to the man and he denied it emphatically, he did. I’m sure he wasn’t lying either. He looked very shocked at the suggestion and was worried in case Mr Crabtree was of the same view and he’d lose his job.’

  ‘What did he tell you happened?’

  ‘He said as how Miss Josephine told him to wait by the side door and that she would come out to him as soon as the coast was clear. He had to wait so long for her to appear that he thought she’d changed her mind. He was about to return to the garage when she appeared. He said it gave him a bit of a fright to see her carrying a suitcase, given that it was only supposed to be a flying visit, but she reassured him that it was unlikely that she’d be staying in town. But that if she was she’d give him a message to take back to her father.’

  ‘I see, interesting. So it was by no means certain that Miss Atherton would be running away, so to speak, just a possibility. It’s beginning to sound to me, Lane that the girl had been jilted or was beginning to feel that she had been jilted. Anyway, when she appeared at the door, did he say whether she appeared agitated or in shock as she would have been if she had just killed Sneddon.’

  ‘No, sir, he didn’t think so. I put that very question to him and he said that she was anxious and excited, as one would expect given the circumstances, but nothing else. And he assured me that he himself never had any occasion to go into the house. He just waited for her outside the door.’

  ‘Well, what happened when they got to London, Lane? Where did she go?’

  ‘Well that’s just it, sir, he doesn’t rightly know. As soon as they arrived she got him to stop the car and hail a cab for her. She gave him some money and told him to wait for her at a hotel. He was to snatch a few hours’ sleep and sh
e’d meet him in three or four hours’ time to either take her back to Dareswick with him, or to take back a note to her father. He says he was very apprehensive about letting her go out into the night by herself, but that she had been most insistent.’

  ‘Did she turn up as arranged?’

  ‘Yes. Brimshaw said she was in a dreadful state. Her eyes were red and swollen and she was sniffing and dabbing her nose and her eyes with a handkerchief. It was obvious that she’d been crying. She was dreadfully pale too, as if she had received something of a shock. The chauffeur says his heart went out to her, but that he said nothing and pretended that he hadn’t noticed anything was amiss. He said she sobbed quietly in the back of the car all the way back to Dareswick.’

  ‘And yet, when she arrived, she gave no indication that she was in so much distress,’ Deacon said, thoughtfully, crossing to look out of the window. ‘It is very lovely here. I can imagine that anyone would have reservations about leaving this place. But it does look as if she was planning to run away. However, for some reason or other, she didn’t see it through. And goodness knows how but I am absolutely certain it’s all connected with Sneddon’s death in some way.’

  As soon as they had left the study, Josephine made her excuses and said she was going upstairs to her room. She asked Rose to make it clear to everyone, with perhaps the exception of her father, that she did not wish to be disturbed. Rose, who had no wish to encounter the baron in a bad temper due to the various antics of his daughter, was relieved to find that he was still holed up with Cedric and Hallam, trying to get hold of the elusive duke. She was glad that she was not with them, for she understood from snatches of conversation she overheard between Crabtree and Mrs Hodges that the baron was getting very agitated and concerned that the duke would hear the news about his son’s sad demise first from the papers rather than from himself.

  With time to herself, she tried to make sense of Josephine’s position regarding the murder. She could not help but remember that shortly before Josephine’s arrival she had decided that she was the most likely person to have killed Sneddon. But she was sure that Josephine had been genuinely shocked to hear the news about Sneddon’s death. She was equally certain that his murder had also made her less forthcoming about where she had been and why she had felt the need to set off as she had in the middle of the night. There must be some connection, only what was it? The girl was scared. It seemed to Rose, that Josephine had feared the worse and then discovered that her fears had been realised.

  Rose was conscious that she had still not disclosed to Inspector Deacon that Josephine had known that Sneddon was blackmailing her sister into marrying him and that she had advised her that she would deal with the matter. What was more, and Rose blushed the more she thought of it, she had deliberately provided Josephine with an excuse as to why there had been a need for her to run away as she had done. Deacon had not been fooled. He had seen through the ruse immediately and no doubt she had fallen even further in his eyes. But Josephine had been desperate, had cried out to her for help. What was she to do? Josephine was involved in it all, she felt sure, but was she really responsible for Sneddon’s death?

  ‘I don’t think there’s any more we can do today,’ said Deacon, stretching his arms behind his head, stifling a yawn. It seemed to him that he had been sitting at a desk pretty well all day. He resolved to go for a walk when he got home. If nothing else, it would be an opportunity to think over the case. ‘It’s been a long day for everyone. Let’s leave the Athertons and their guests to their dinner, and we’ll come back here bright and early tomorrow. Hopefully that Ricketts chap will be caught trying to leave and we’ll discover who else he and Sneddon were blackmailing. If we find that out then I think we’ll find our murderer. Right, have you got the men stationed and waiting?’

  ‘Yes, sir, there’s no way he’ll be able to leave Dareswick without being caught.’

  ‘Good, well let’s get on and tomorrow we can see what the new day brings.’

  Unfortunately, although neither policemen knew it at the time, it was to bring another death.

  ‘I don’t know what we’re going to do about serving dinner tonight, Mrs Hodges,’ Crabtree said, looking about the room in search of the whisky bottle as if its physical presence would be enough to steady his nerves without him even having to take a sip. Although he did promise himself that he would pour himself a very small measure as soon as the housekeeper’s back was turned, for medicinal purposes only, of course, for he was still reeling from the shock of a murder having occurred in a house where he was butler.

  ‘Oh, what’s the matter now, Mr Crabtree?’ Mrs Hodges sighed, ‘Haven’t we got enough to worry about without something else cropping up?’

  ‘Sidney’s come down with his cold again. Sneezing something rotten he was just now,’ said the butler. ‘I packed him straight off to bed. We can’t have him spluttering into the food tonight while he’s serving. But I daren’t have young Robert do it. The baron’s sure to notice and I’m afraid that he’s in rather a foul mood about this tragic business.’

  ‘Can’t say I blame him. Hardly likely to encourage a flurry of guests, is it, not if one gets himself murdered in your house, even if he does bring it on himself what with all his shenanigans and –.’

  ‘Thank you, Mrs Hodges,’ said Crabtree quickly, suddenly aware that Sneddon’s manservant was lurking in the shadows. ‘The problem we have is that there is no one to help serve dinner. I suppose one of your housemaids might do but –.’

  ‘I’ll do it, Mr Crabtree.’

  ‘You!’ Ricketts had appeared at his shoulder so suddenly that it was all the butler could do not to jump into the air with fright. He looked disparagingly at the man and his attire. ‘What do you know about waiting on table? And look at yourself, man! You look completely dishevelled, not to say dirty. You’d be enough to put the master and his guests off their food and I’d hazard a guess that you’re a clumsy fellow. You’d probably end up ladling the soup into their laps.’

  ‘Like the other fellow did, Robert’s his name isn’t it, and that’s his normal job too,’ retorted Ricketts with a sneer. ‘Ah, give us a chance, Mr Crabtree. I’m sure you’ve got a nice suit of clothes I could change into and I’ll go and have a wash now and comb my hair. I’m telling you, you won’t recognise me. I scrub up very well when I want to, I can tell you. And I’ve helped out at my cousin’s public house once or twice, waited at tables, collected glasses and the like.’

  ‘Waiting at table in a public house is hardly the same as waiting at table in a grand house like this,’ Crabtree said huffily. ‘It’s not the same thing at all.’

  ‘Ah, go on, Mr Crabtree. I’m a quick learner, I am. You just go through with me now what I’ve got to do. I won’t let you down, I promise. And to tell you the truth, I’m awful bored, what with my master being dead and all, I’ve had nothing to do all day.’

  ‘Other than being interviewed by the policemen.’

  ‘Oh, give him a chance, Mr Crabtree,’ said Mrs Hodges, who had been watching the exchange with interest. ‘It’s not as if you’ve got much choice after all, is it? And there’s no soup on the menu tonight. Mrs Gooden didn’t want to risk it after what happened last night. You needn’t decide right now. See how the fellow scrubs up first. If he looks halfway presentable and can master the basics when you go through it with him, well, as I say, you’ve nothing to lose.’

  ‘Well,’ said Crabtree, visibly wavering, but still looking at Ricketts rather doubtfully. ‘I think we have a spare suit of livery that might fit this fellow. But make sure you wash yourself thoroughly, young man, I don’t want it ruined. And then we’ll see if you’re the quick learner you claim to be.’

  ‘Ah, thank you Mr Crabtree, you won’t regret it,’ Ricketts said, with an insolent grin on his face.

  Crabtree sighed. He had a feeling that he was going to regret it very much indeed.

  Dinner was an uncomfortable meal for all concerned. Josephine had come down for i
t but just sat there picking at her bread roll, eating very little, and saying even less. It transpired that she had given her father a half-hearted explanation for her disappearance. She had told him that she had left to attend a party in town that she had thought he might not wholly approve of and that, in order to disguise what she was doing, she had delayed setting off until everyone had gone to bed, including the servants, with the intention of returning before the house was up. No one would have been any the wiser had they not had the misfortune to encounter a nail or some other such bit of metal in the road, which had resulted in one of the tyres getting a puncture. This mishap had considerably delayed their return. That no one, probably not even the baron, believed this explanation seemed immaterial. It had been given and, to all intents and purposes, accepted. Only Isabella, Rose noticed, glanced at her sister suspiciously every now and then as if trying to work out from her expression what had really happened. Hallam and Cedric, Rose supposed, were just grateful that Josephine had returned safely and that the baron had not made too much of a fuss about it all.

  Rose was somewhat surprised to see Sneddon’s valet, Ricketts, enter the room in a rather ill-fitting livery. The man looked slightly more presentable than he had done the last time she had seen him, although his hair was still unruly and he appeared on edge. It brought back memories of Robert’s behaviour on the night she had arrived and she noticed that the butler was watching him like a hawk, as he had done the other young footman. She looked around at the others seated at the table. If they had noticed that they were being attended to by a different footman than usual then they gave no sign. Clearly they had not noticed that the man was in an excited state or that Crabtree was watching his every move with a look of barely concealed anxiety. Instinctively, Rose knew that something was going to happen.

  At first it looked as if her fears had been unfounded. The first course of fried whiting was served without incident, as was the entrée of veal cutlets. Rose saw the butler visibly relax, for indeed Ricketts appeared an able footman despite his scruffy appearance and insolent manner. Rose found herself breathing a sigh of relief. But she had acted prematurely. The second course of a haunch of mutton had just been served and Ricketts had moved to Isabella with the dish of vegetables for her to help herself when catastrophe struck. Whether it was his fault or hers was unclear to the observers, for one moment everything seemed alright and the next the dish had become dislodged from Ricketts’ grasp and buttered carrots and green beans fell onto the tablecloth and a few onto Isabella’s lap. The girl let out a shriek and leapt up from her seat. A contrite and humiliated Ricketts passed her a dinner-napkin to dab at her soiled dress. Isabella grabbed the napkin, looked at it with disgust, and threw it onto the table before hurrying out of the room. The gentlemen, who had risen from their seats when she had, sat down and looked about them awkwardly.