DCI Seldon rubbed the back of his neck. ‘Which is?’
‘When you searched the study immediately after arresting Lancelot, did you find Lady Fenwick-Langham’s jewels?’
He shook his head and reached for his hat and coat.
Eleanor decided to chance her arm even further. ‘And do you still believe the thief had an accomplice?’
DCI Seldon looked her in the eye. ‘Lady Swift. I am officially warning you to stay out of the investigation. And please ensure that Mr Clifford does too. I won’t remind you again that this is a police matter, one where we will act upon evidence and facts in line with the law. And as you are also a suspect…’ He let the sentence hang. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me, duty and justice call.’ He placed his bowler squarely on his head.
His footsteps reverberated down the hall, the walls echoing as he barked, ‘Brice! Give Lady Swift five minutes with the accused. Don’t leave them alone. And no more than five minutes. Now, where’s my blasted car, for Pete’s sake?’
Nine
‘Come with me, please, Lady Swift.’ Sergeant Brice hovered in the doorway.
Eleanor followed him to the end of the long corridor where a formidable steel door blocked their path. He slid open the narrow hatch and called out, ‘Sergeant Brice with a visitor for cell thirteen, Langham-Fenwick.’
As the door rumbled open, Eleanor snorted. They could at least get Lancelot’s surname right!
‘Sergeant Brice, sir.’ A fresh-faced officer in a perfectly turned-out uniform saluted.
‘This is the police, not the army, Lowe,’ the sergeant muttered.
‘Constable Lowe?’ Eleanor peered over Brice’s shoulder.
‘Good afternoon, Lady Swift.’ Lowe yanked off his cap and smoothed his hair. ‘I’ve been promoted to a full-time position, now Sergeant Brice is no longer a constable.’ His chest threatened to pop the buttons from his jacket as it swelled with pride.
Eleanor smiled at the eager young man. ‘Congratulations!’
Brice rolled his eyes. ‘Lowe, I am escorting Lady Swift to the prisoner, not to Sunday school for a natter. Door!’
The young constable jumped into action and slammed the door shut, making Eleanor’s ears ring. ‘This way.’
Their footsteps clattered down the corridor. The public rarely visited this part of the station and it had missed the refurbishment of the front; the half-height orange paint that ran the length of the corridor was faded and scuffed, the floor tiles chipped and dirty. They passed a row of empty cells with iron bed frames and paper-thin mattresses with a decidedly thin and itchy-looking blanket bundled on the top of each. Eleanor shivered.
Stopping outside the second to last cell, Brice pulled out a ring of keys. ‘Five minutes. That was the DCI’s order.’
Lancelot lay sideways on the bed, repeatedly throwing an apple into the air, his legs stretched out, feet against the wall.
‘Visitor for you,’ the sergeant called as he locked the door noisily behind Eleanor.
Lancelot’s head turned languidly. ‘Sherlock!’ He jumped up, his rumpled shirt hanging out of his creased trousers. ‘Good show, old girl. How the bally heck did you persuade Seldon to let you in?’
Eleanor smiled. ‘It’s a secret.’ She peered at his face. ‘How are you bearing up?’
Lancelot laughed. ‘You sound just like Mater. Why the dramatics?’
‘How about because you’re in prison? Well, in a police cell, accused of theft and…’ She glanced at Brice leaning against the wall outside and whispered, ‘Murder!’
A shadow crossed his face and he slumped back down on the mattress. He held out the apple. ‘Hungry? Not much to offer in the hospitality stakes, I’m afraid.’
‘Lancelot, listen—’
‘What happened to Goggles? I rather liked him.’
She sighed in exasperation. Goggles was the pet name she had given him when they first met and he was clad in his motorcyclist gear. ‘Goggles, then. This is bad. Really bad. You’re in a proper heap of trouble. We both are, dash it!’
He frowned. ‘Wait up, how are you in trouble?’
‘Because the inspector has a nasty suspicion.’ She checked if Brice was listening. He seemed to be far too busy shining his shoes on the back of his trousers. ‘That I might be your accomplice.’
‘What!’ Lancelot sat straighter and rubbed his forehead. ‘That imbecile, how dare he! Next time I meet him, I shall punch his bally lights out!’
She groaned. ‘Please don’t, you… you dullard. Can’t you understand that assaulting a police officer really isn’t going to help?’
He shrugged. ‘I suppose not. But, honestly, what a wretched cheek accusing you. I tell you that man is so-oo tiresome. I guarantee he’s no fun at parties.’ He glanced sideways at her with a look she couldn’t decipher. ‘Sherlock?’
‘What?’
‘Why did you come?’
She stared straight ahead at the wall. ‘You know perfectly well why.’
‘To… clear your name?’
‘You impossible oaf! No, to try and clear yours. Oh, you are too much.’
‘No, you are too much. Too… special. And sitting here with you, in these delightful, elegant surroundings is enough to make it all worth it.’ He tucked a stray curl behind her ear.
‘Goggles, this is a bit awkward.’
‘I know. We’ve got a peeping tom and’ – he whispered in her ear, his soft stubble brushing her cheek – ‘he’s disguised as a policeman, the fiend!’
Eleanor smiled, but then her face clouded over. ‘Lancelot, what can you tell me about what really happened?’
He held her gaze. ‘Nothing more than I’ve told Seldon and his goons, ad nauseam.’
She took hold of his shoulders. The tingling down her arms made her words tumble over each other. ‘There has to be more. Something that proves you aren’t a… that you didn’t do it.’
Lancelot sighed. ‘It would be amazing, wouldn’t it, if there was? Truth is though, Sherlock, I’ve told them exactly what happened. I came into the blasted study and saw the colonel on the floor. I trotted over and knelt down to see if I could help the old buzzard. Then I heard a noise. I was in shock and panicked. I thought it was the killer returning, so I grabbed the nearest thing I could to defend myself.’
‘The candlestick,’ they chorused.
‘Exactly. I didn’t bally well know it was the murder weapon. I wouldn’t have touched it if I had.’ He looked at her almost eagerly. ‘Did they find anyone else’s fingerprints on the dashed thing?’
‘Only the maid’s, who cleaned the room the day before, and she has a cast-iron alibi for the time the colonel was killed.’
‘Blast! I suppose the jewel thief wore gloves, of course.’
‘But why were you in the study in the first place and not in the ballroom?’
‘Well, my favourite guest was vulgarly late and everyone else seemed horribly dull, so I decided to kick my heels upstairs. I heard a… an odd noise and went to investigate.’ He tilted his head. ‘More to the point, why were you upstairs?’
‘How about because my favourite host was nowhere to be seen? He couldn’t even be bothered to be my knight in shining armour when I fell flat on my face in front of the entire blasted party. So I resorted to sneaking after him when I saw his silly pirate legs running up the stairs.’
Lancelot’s shoulders shook. ‘Only you could face plant at a ball! Monster shame I missed it. But you know you’ve got to stop chasing after me like that. First at the airfield on some spurious tale of a non-existent murder, then at the rose garden luncheon. And now here. People are going to talk, it’s not very ladylike.’
‘Well, I’m not much of a lady.’
‘I’ve noticed.’
She slapped his hand, then checked Brice was out of earshot. ‘Look.’ She lowered her voice. ‘I know you’re not telling me the whole truth. Your parents came to see me.’
He started at her words. ‘So… you know?’
She nodded. ‘Look,
I understand you can’t tell Seldon about planning to steal the jewels to help your parents out, you’d look even more guilty, but we need to find a way to prove you’re innocent. Is there anything you think might be a clue as to who the real thief and killer is?’
Lancelot sighed. ‘No one knows the identity of the jewel thief, even the police haven’t been able to find that out.’ He grinned without amusement. ‘He does seem to pick parties we’re at, though, which just goes to show how in demand we are at all the top society events. A party simply isn’t a success without us there.’
Eleanor frowned. ‘You said “we”?’
He shrugged. ‘My “bright young things gang”, as so many dull, tiresome types have dubbed us.’ He lapsed into a frown again. ‘I suppose, if you think about it, that does make them suspects, though. That blasted— I mean, the poor old colonel as much as said so more than once.’ He looked up at her. ‘But everyone knew about Mater’s jewels, and a lot of people with highfalutin titles are short of a bob nowadays, as you know Mater and Pater are, so the jewel thief could be one of the titled guests who were at the ball even.’ He sighed. ‘Doesn’t really narrow it down much, does it?’
Brice tapped the bars of the cell and rattled the key on the ring. ‘Time’s up, Lady Swift.’
Eleanor glared at him before turning back to Lancelot. ‘Don’t worry, Goggles, you’ve given me some ideas to follow up and I’m going to do everything I can to get you out of this mess. I know you’re innocent.’
‘Well you’re probably the only one who does.’ Lancelot ran his fingers through his tousled hair.
‘Lady Swift, please,’ Brice called from the door.
Ignoring the urgency in his command, she stared at Lancelot. ‘What do you mean the only one?’
‘Look, Sherlock, thanks for the offer to help but I don’t want you to get into any more trouble because of me. Your Inspector Do-Goody-Two-Boots will frame me anyway, just to have you to himself, the wretch!’
She looked away remembering Clifford’s words. ‘Rubbish, the inspector isn’t interested in me.’
He held her chin gently, his voice was quiet. ‘Darling fruit, you’ll never see it, will you? You’re irresistibly… peculiar. You have a way of making us chaps go, well, a bit giddy, if I’m honest. I saw it in Seldon’s face when he ordered his officers to cuff me that night. He looked at you in that way. He’s not very subtle for a detective!’
‘But he’s a professional!’
Lancelot shrugged. ‘Maybe. But why the bally heck was he even at the house on the night of the ball, anyway?’
‘Look, I haven’t got time to explain, but it makes sense that he was there.’
Brice stepped into the cell and took Eleanor’s elbow.
‘Unhand her, you brute!’
Brice shot Lancelot a look but let go and gestured towards the door. Eleanor led the way and felt her heart sink at the sound of the lock turning.
Lancelot called from behind the bars. ‘Sherlock? Has the great detective found the jewels yet?’
She shook her head and turned to see him wink before flopping back onto the bed.
The dull thud of an apple thrown repeatedly against a wall followed her and Brice down the corridor.
Ten
‘Good morning, my lady. Her ladyship is expecting you.’
‘Morning, Sandford. How is everyone holding up?’ Eleanor gave him a warm smile.
Sandford hesitated. ‘I have to confess, my lady, the Manor has seen happier days. However, we are greatly indebted for your dedicated efforts.’
‘Fingers crossed.’ She followed him up the grand entrance steps and into the drawing room where Lady Langham was waiting.
‘Eleanor, my dear, come sit. Sandford, fortified tea, please.’ As the butler closed the door behind him, she sat beside Eleanor. ‘It is so kind of you to throw yourself into proving Lancelot’s innocence, my dear. Really, we’re eternally grateful.’
‘It’s the least I could do for all your kindness,’ Eleanor said. ‘I only hope I can.’
‘As we all do, my dear.’ Lady Langham patted the back of Eleanor’s hand.
‘How is Harold coping?’ Eleanor asked.
Her hostess gave a wan smile. ‘Even he is showing the signs of the terrible strain this situation is placing on us all. Yesterday I found him in Lancelot’s room, sitting on our son’s bed, fiddling with the arms of the teddy bear my brother sent over from America on Lance’s fourth birthday.’
‘Oh golly!’ Eleanor couldn’t move the lump from her throat and was grateful when Sandford knocked at the door before settling the tea things before them. With a lifetime in service, he sensed the emotional cloud in the room and left without offering to pour.
Lady Langham turned back to Eleanor. ‘You know, Sandford is such a gem. For some peculiar reason, he is very fond of my son. I remember one particularly wet day when Lancelot was six and his governess had scolded him repeatedly.’ She smiled wistfully. ‘I’m sure he deserved it, he usually did. I can’t tell you how many governesses we went through. Anyway, she banished him to the other side of the house. A little later I happened along the corridor to the butler’s pantry to check on something for dinner and you’ll never guess what I saw.’
Eleanor shuffled forward. ‘I’m intrigued, do tell.’
‘I saw Lancelot balancing on two flowerpots with string handles, walking along like a puppet, giggling his heart out. And behind him, Sandford on his own set of stilts.’
Eleanor roared at the image. ‘Sandford does seem a genuinely kind-hearted soul and a most valuable asset to the staff. Much like Clifford, really.’
‘We are both lucky in that respect. And they’re quite the chums, you know, on the quiet.’ Lady Langham stared into the distance. ‘But where was I?’
Eleanor set her cup down and turned to face Lady Langham. She was pouring a small glass of sherry that obviously constituted the fortified element of the requested tea. She offered Eleanor a glass.
‘No, thank you.’ Eleanor took a deep breath. ‘Perhaps I should begin with interviewing the staff. Not that there is any suspicion there,’ she hurried on, ‘simply that they are, as we know, the eyes and ears of the household.’
‘A splendid idea, my dear. I always think it takes a woman’s guile to get a man to confess.’
‘Or a woman.’
‘A woman? You surely don’t imagine it could be a woman? What callous creature could ignore her natural sensitivities and commit such an act?’
Eleanor frowned. ‘Well, we are now firmly in the nineteen hundreds, not the eighteen hundreds. If women are to have equal rights that should include the equal right to be suspected of murder. Although, I confess, that probably isn’t in the Suffragettes’ charter.’
‘I’m sure you’ll think me the most frightful dinosaur but I do not hold at all with this women’s equality nonsense. Standing for Parliament? Whatever do they think they are doing?’
Eleanor said gently, ‘I believe you’ll find a woman can do just as good a job as a man.’
‘That, my dear, is precisely the problem.’
‘Forgive me, Augusta, I don’t quite follow.’
‘It’s like this, my dear. Once you put someone in a position of political power, it swells the head, and the ego elbows out all sense of reason and moderation.’
Eleanor laughed. ‘I definitely agree on that point.’
‘For centuries,’ Lady Langham continued, ‘the only voice of reason has been the wife or mistress. Behind the scenes they have kept men from their own worst foolishness and everyone else from the catastrophic effects of that foolishness.’
‘And you believe that when such foolish acts were made, the lady was ignored?’
‘Exactly!’ Lady Langham’s voice betrayed an underlying bitterness. ‘When a politician declared war, or levied a tax that resulted in families having to sell off their cherished possessions, it was the act of a man without conscience. For a woman is a man’s only true restraining influence. S
o this equality talk is a fine sentiment, but what is to become of this country if all the women are slandering and fighting each other in public and whoring and gambling in private like the men?’
Eleanor thought for a moment. ‘Well, on the upside, we’d be able to pass a law banning these dratted corsets!’
Lady Langham stared at her, then burst into peals of laughter. She downed the remaining sherry in her glass and rose. ‘Now, to business. Come. Our Lancelot’s fate is in your hands!’
With those words still ringing in her ears, Eleanor followed Sandford to a small sitting room at the far corner of the ground floor. A well-worn settee sat lengthways against the oak panelling at one end, while a bright tapestry of a family playing croquet filled the opposite wall. A deep-pile pink wool rug added an extra warmth to the cosy atmosphere.
‘This is perfect,’ Eleanor said. ‘I want the staff to be relaxed when I interview them.’
‘I fear, my lady, that with the mark of recent events, that will be a difficult task to accomplish,’ Sandford said.
‘I’ll be gentle, I promise. Whom do you suggest I interview first?’
‘Perhaps myself, my lady? I can then loudly declare in the servants’ hall that you were most agreeable and sympathetic.’
‘And if you find my interrogation methods terrifying?’
‘I will keep the waver from my voice as I tell them a tall tale.’
She laughed. ‘Thank you, Sandford.’ Making herself comfortable on the sofa she continued, ‘Why don’t you tell me all that you remember of the evening?’
‘Certainly, my lady. As is customary at such an event I greeted the guests. The last to arrive were the financial gentlemen. They tend to spend the major part of their time in London. I was then dispatched by Lady Fenwick-Langham to wait on the front steps for one particularly late guest.’
She nodded. ‘I was fearfully late, wasn’t I?’
His eyes twinkled. ‘Fearfully so, my lady.’
‘And were you aware of Lancelot’s whereabouts all this time?’
He shook his head. ‘For much of it, my lady, but not all. At the commencement of the ball, young master Lancelot stood behind his lord and ladyship to greet guests as normal. Then he hung around the doorway leading to the west wing. It appeared he was looking for someone.’
Death at the Dance: An addictive historical cozy mystery (A Lady Eleanor Swift Mystery Book 2) Page 6