“Thea,” Copley calmed his voice somewhat and stepped towards her. “I am not worried about your chastity, you will still be my first born and you will always have a special place in my heart.”
The dog was becoming distracting and working herself up into a lather.
“Ann, quiet!” Thea commanded and to Cole’s surprise, the dog obeyed.
Thea began to walk towards her father and now that he was calmer, she had relaxed too.
“I’m worried about your heart, Thea. The hardest thing for a parent to do, is to see their child suffering.”
“I know, Papa,” she gave him a gentle smile. “And given my past attempts at romance, I do understand why you are worried but… I don’t have the words to truly express how I feel, but I finally understand the stories you both told me about when you met.”
“Darling girl, it was never your heart that I doubted.” He looked over her shoulder to Cole, and Thea turned as well.
“There is no way that I can prove my feelings to you, Sir, other than the test of time. I will accept any limits you choose to put on our courtship, and I will do my best to prove myself worthy.”
“He may accept your limits but I won’t,” Thea asserted. “Not if they are unreasonable.”
“Thea! I am not saying ‘no’, I am asking you to be patient. If this relationship truly is all that you believe it to be, then a little wait will make no difference, will it?”
“That depends on your definition of ‘little’.”
“I don’t want to argue with you, Thea.”
“Nor I with you.”
“Then can we at least agree that there will be no more graphic and public displays of your affection for each another? At least, not before marriage?”
“Yes, father, I can agree to that.”
“Good.” He put an arm around her shoulders and kissed her forehead. “I suppose that means that congratulations are in order.”
A tentative smile formed on Thea’s lips. “Do you mean that?”
“Of course I do. I think Mr Cole is a very good match for you.”
“But then why-”
“Because even I am not infallible, Thea. I will never stop worrying about you, regardless of how old you are.”
Copley looked up then, Cole felt a fraction of the torment he must feel. Were he the one charged with finding a husband for Thea, even assuming he wouldn’t feel jealous, how could he trust anyone with her? She was too precious for such a decision not to be agonised over, and at length.
Copley had already shown him a great deal of trust and now he recognised how much that trust cost him, how much he was risking. He nodded to the gentleman, hoping that he could convey the depth of his new found understanding.
Copley returned the nod.
Cole would not be able to keep away from Thea entirely but knowing how much her father worried, he would surely be far more discreet.
“How did your interviews go?” he asked Copley, hoping they could cease dwelling on subjects that caused friction between them.
Copley took his arm from around Thea and took a moment to compose his thoughts.
“Well, I believe. Two servants have said that Miss Potter’s mood was unusually good the last few days, and that she spoke more frequently of going to America. They tried to enquire why, but she was unusually tight lipped, just told them that they ‘would see’.”
“So it’s probably safe to say that she believed she had money coming to her,” Cole suggested.
“Indeed. Passage to America doesn’t come cheap, although I cannot fathom where this money was coming from.”
“Have you finished talking to the servants?”
“Only the females. Mr Black advised me not to continue once he learned of Lord McAllister’s intention to talk to them again. Apparently he is rather confrontational and makes everyone feel defensive and unlikely to talk, to anyone. I will try and speak to the men tomorrow, although it’s unlikely she confided in any of them. How have you two fared?”
“Not much better,” Thea admitted. “I have more information but it is of little use as yet. I feel as though I am missing something important.”
“It will come,” Copley assured her.
“I believe I may have an explanation for the ghost that was spotted,” Cole said.
They both turned to him.
“The ghost was seen heading into the woods that lead to the Reynolds’ estate. At night, viewed through thick and old glass, which would distort the image, I believe they viewed someone in their night clothes, heading towards some kind of assignation.”
“Do you know who?” Thea asked.
“Not definitely but I have suspicions.”
“Oh?” Copley asked.
“I’m not confident enough to speak of them yet.”
“Exchanging theories is part of the process,” Thea pleaded.
“Well, it is just a feeling, but I have noticed a budding attraction between Emily Small and Michael Reynolds, Lord Reynolds’ son. On its own it means little but Emily has also been showing a lot of affection towards my step-mother, trying to cultivate a friendship there, yet I feel her overtures are not heartfelt. That leads me to believe that she would like an invitation to remain here and if she is going to such lengths to obtain one, her feelings for the Reynolds boy must be rather strong. Perhaps strong enough to throw caution to the wind and risk a night time assignation. Knowing that she had been seen, even if the incident was passed off as a ghost, has probably made her more circumspect, which is why the ghost hasn’t been sighted again.”
“It sounds reasonable,” Copley agreed. “I will see what information I can glean in conversation.”
“And I thought I might invite the Reynolds to dinner again this evening, so we could observe them together.”
“Your step-mother has already done so,” Copley informed him. “She wants the psychic to give another demonstration this evening.”
Thea sighed heavily. “I thought we had put that nonsense behind us.”
“It seems she finds her entertaining,” Copley explained. “Although I confess, her behaviour puzzles me.”
“How so?” Cole asked.
“First, Mrs Cole asks her to come here but during the séance, when the messages appeared on the tablets, she became very quiet and wary. Your demonstration almost seemed a relief to her and now that she is proved a fraud, she wishes her to remain.”
“Perhaps the show of supernatural skills spooked her,” Thea suggested. “Even I have felt uneasy while here, especially after the séance.”
“Did you notice any other odd behaviour during the séance?” Cole asked Copley.
“Some. I believe the few who did not attend can be considered suspicious, even the sceptical among us were interested in watching.”
“So who wasn’t there?” Cole asked.
“Mrs Lanning,” Thea answered, “although I think we can consider her innocent. She has been spending most of her time in her rooms since her husband passed. Mr Garwood also didn’t attend, but he too suffered a recent loss, so I don’t know if we should read much into that. Lord and Lady Small were also absent, although their children Flora and Emily did attend.”
“Possibly because the Reynolds’ son was there,” Copley suggested.
“My thought also,” Cole agreed.
“So are we suggesting that the Smalls were involved in some way?” Thea asked.
“I don’t see what they would gain from harming Mrs Garwood or the maid,” Cole mused. “But it’s possible that there is a motive that we are unaware of.”
“Do they know the Garwoods?” Copley asked.
“Not well. They were my father’s guests, and the Garwoods were my mother’s choice. I also haven’t observed any significant conversations between the two families; either before or after the murder.”
“I asked the maids about all the guests,” Copley interjected. “They noticed no interactions between anyone and Mary Potter.”
“Assumptio
ns lead to incorrect conclusions,” Thea said softly.
“I’m sorry?” Cole asked.
“It’s something my mother often says. I think we need to go right back to the beginning and question every assumption we’ve made.”
Abruptly she left the room, leaving Cole and Copley little choice but to follow her. They caught up with her in Mrs Garwood’s room, wandering around, looking at every surface, as if they held the vital clue that could solve all this.
“What are the most basic assumptions we’ve made about this killing?” she asked.
“That someone got into and out of this room without being seen?” Cole suggested.
“Even more basic than that.”
“That someone killed Mrs Garwood here.”
Thea’s head whipped around. “That’s it!”
“I’m sorry?” Cole asked. “I don’t follow; there’s no doubt that Mrs Garwood was killed.”
“Yes but was she killed here?” Thea asked. “What if she only died here.”
“I’m not sure I follow,” Cole admitted.
“There isn’t much blood on the rug and the whole scenario would make a lot more sense if she were stabbed somewhere else, then managed to get back here and lock herself in.”
“What about the signs of a struggle?” Copley asked.
“It’s not much of a struggle, is it? Some letters on the floor, a knocked table and broken vase.” Thea walked over to the writing bureau and sat down, picking up the sheet of paper with only a line written on it.
“We couldn’t explain this before but what if she was stabbed in the hallway, then managed to lock herself in here before he could finish the task. She heads straight for her writing desk, perhaps knowing that her wound is fatal. She’s scared, perhaps unable to open the ink well in the desk set, so she takes it out and leaves it sitting on the desk.”
Thea did most of the actions she was describing, although she left the ink well closed.
“She puts aside the letter she was writing to a friend, and tries to write the name of the person who stabbed her. See,” she held the sheet of paper out towards them. “At the beginning of the line, the pen went in a different direction, down the page. That could be the start of a letter but she was too frightened to control the pen, or perhaps the killer banged on the door, making her jump, or she’s growing so weak, she can no longer control the pen.”
“It sounds plausible,” Cole agreed.
“Her body was found with her head to the door, feet to the bureau, correct?”
“Yes.”
“She makes one last effort at summoning help by heading to the door, where she stands more chance of being heard, only she’s weak now. Summoning the last of her strength, she gets up, but her arm drags off the desk, pulling some papers and the ink well off the desk as she moves.” Thea demonstrated, her arm dragging over the desk top as she got to her feet. “She staggers towards the door but by now is feeling dizzy; she bumps into the table, knocking the vase off. She manages two more paces before she is overcome by her injuries and falls, here.” She indicated the blood stain on the rug.
“It makes sense,” her father praised.
“Almost,” Thea agreed. “I don’t think the mess in here was a sign of a struggle, I think Mrs Garwood knocked all those things over, but I also don’t think she was stabbed elsewhere.”
“How can you tell?” Cole asked.
“Because blood is essentially a liquid and subject to gravity. If she were stabbed in the hallway, I would expect the blood on her dress to have formed a long stain, from the site of the wound downwards, but the doctor assured me the stain was circular. And of course, she was stabbed with her own letter opener. If the murder was premeditated, the killer would have used a better, sharper knife. Why go into her room, steal her paper cutter, then wait in the hallway or elsewhere to stab her? It’s a weapon of convenience, not choice.”
“So you think she was attacked in this room?”
“The only thing I can say for certain, is that she was stabbed very shortly before she died and she didn’t move very far.”
“Which you know because of the shape of the blood stains?”
“Yes, and the lack of blood. Had she been bleeding for a while, she would have left a lot more blood on her dress and the floor.”
“What if the killer knocked on her door?” Cole suggested. “She opens it, he stabs her but she manages to close and lock the door.”
“It doesn’t explain the disarray,” Copley added.
“No,” Thea agreed. “But that is the kind of unconventional thinking we need. Perhaps there is another explanation for the mess, unrelated to her stabbing.
“Such as?”
“I’m not sure, Papa. I wish her lady’s maid was still here to talk to. I’ve written to her uncle but I suspect she has already found alternative employment, so it may take a while to receive a reply.”
“What could she tell you?” Cole wondered.
“Mrs Garwood’s movements that evening. She came up to her room after the meal, pleading a headache, correct?” Thea went to stand by the door.
“Correct,” Cole agreed.
“Mrs McCall would probably already be in here,” Thea mused. “If not, she would have rung the bell to summon her.” Thea went to the rope which if pulled, would summon a maid. “Then Mrs Garwood would probably enter her dressing room, either to wait for her or to undress.”
She went into that room, followed by Cole and her father.
“She would probably have changed first.” She approached the wardrobe.
“Why?” Cole asked.
“Gowns are expensive and difficult to wash, so most women prefer not to wear them for longer than necessary. Plus, corsets can be rather uncomfortable; you cannot imagine the relief felt when taking it off at the end of each day.”
“Yes…” His voice sounded strained, and Copley gave him a look as if to say ‘You wanted this’.
“She would probably have washed next.” Thea fingers trailed over the now empty jug and bowl. “Then she would have sat here.” She moved to the dressing table and took a seat. “McCall would have taken her hair down then brushed it, usually at least fifty strokes, often a hundred.” She picked up the badger hair brush.
“Why so many?” Cole asked, surprised that there was so much about a woman’s routine that he was unfamiliar with.
Thea was looking through the drawers again.
“It helps keep it in good condition and spread the natural oils along the hair shaft to protect it. Sometimes a tonic will be used to refresh the hair. Was her hair ragged or braided?”
“Just a braid.”
Thea nodded and began opening the pots and creams.
“She could likely have used this on her face and neck, the soap would leave her skin feeling tight.” She sniffed a pot of Galen's cold cream, then replaced the lid and picked up a bottle of Le Mort's elixir. “She was suffering a cold so at some point, would have taken this.” She sniffed the contents of the bottle. “It’s nicer than I remember.”
“What is?” Cole asked.
“The elixir. I would sometimes be given it as a child, but I always hated the taste of liquorice.”
She opened a box beside the bottle, which housed a deep teaspoon used to measure the elixir.
“McCall would have rinsed and dried the spoon, then Mrs Garwood would have likely dismissed her for the night. It would still be relatively early then. I gather Mrs Garwood was found in her dressing gown?”
Cole nodded and they all returned to the bedroom. Ann was sitting on the bed and distracted, Thea approached and scratched the dog behind its ears, rather than telling her to get down, as she should.
“Then Mrs Garwood likely didn’t go to bed. I suspect she sat at the writing desk, to start or continue writing the letter we found.”
“What if she felt unwell?” Cole asked. “Perhaps her cold was more serious than she thought and she developed a fever, or became faint. She could have knocked the
papers off and ran into the table while seeking help.”
“But instead found her killer,” Thea finished his thought. “If she was unwell, it might explain why she didn’t fight back.”
“Rather convenient for the killer though, isn’t it?” Copley asked.
“Or opportunistic, but coincidences do happen and everyone is lucky from time to time. I wish we could speak to her lady’s maid, ask if she had seen any signs of illness or fatigue.”
“Why did she leave?” Copley asked. “I was under the impression that everyone was asked to stay.”
“Mr Garwood dismissed McCall immediately,” Thea explained. “Black allowed her to remain here for a few days while she made arrangements, but she left as soon as she had somewhere to go.”
“Actually, if memory serves,” Cole interjected. “Lord McAllister didn’t request everyone stay until after Mary Potter’s death. I suspect he would have blamed Mrs Garwood’s death on the next itinerant or thief that was caught but with two deaths, he had to admit that the killer was likely someone in the house.”
“Are you saying he’s corrupt?” Lord Copley asked.
“Not exactly. He does however, have some very old-fashioned notions about the sanctity of high rank. He would do almost anything to avoid a scandal among the aristocracy, which is I suspect, why he desperately hopes to find a servant responsible.”
“You won’t let him arrest someone innocent?” Thea asked.
“I can't stop him, but I will pay for the defence and do everything in my power to protect them, if I believe they are innocent of these murders.”
“That’s another assumption we must be wary of, that the same person killed both women.”
“You think we have two murderers?” Cole sounded surprised.
“I think that there are as many differences as similarities, and killers don’t generally change their methods.”
“But they were both women on their own, attacked at night and neither was… interfered with.”
“True but one was stabbed, just a single wound, and the other was bludgeoned, multiple times with a great deal of force, indicating a lot of rage that was missing from the first killing. I’m not saying that the same person didn’t commit both crimes, only that it could be different people.”
Murder at Locke Abbey Page 18