A Case Most Peculiar

by Michael Moreau

  “I see there is some animosity between you and your family.”

  “To put it lightly Inspector. As you have no-doubt surmised from my letter to you and from the story that Mrs. Peterson related I may be born of an upper-crust family but I frequently choose not to socialize with similar sorts of people.”

  “Men, especially, it would seem.”

  She straightened a bit, I was toying with her but she seemed to be growing more accustomed to my quips. “There is something I find so pedantic about the young men of my own social strata. I am afraid that soft hands and cleanly-shaven cheeks do not appeal to me sir.”

  “I take it that your Colin was anything but. Tell me about him and how you came to be in love and remember that you have vowed to be honest and thorough with me.”

  She nodded and then began. “His name was Colin Wright. Mr. Peterson met him in town, searching for employment, and knew that we were in need of someone to tend the horses.”

  “Did he have experience doing such a job?”

  She seemed surprised by the question, “Well, yes, he said that he’d done it before.”

  “Did he say so before or after Mr. Peterson informed him of your need for a groom?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Mmm. Continue.”

  “He brought Colin to meet with Father and he hired him that very day. A room was given to him in the servants’ quarters and he began to stay on the estate full-time.”

  “Was he staying in Leeds before he came here or was he simply passing through?”

  “As I understand it he was passing through.”

  So much for speaking with friends in town to get another account of the young man’s character. “If not Leeds then where did the young man hail from originally?”

  “He told me that he grew up in Dorset and that he’d spent several years traveling about before coming to Leeds.”

  “Did he ever relate to you exactly why he left Dorset? Was he in trouble? Was he an orphan?”

  “Neither.”

  “So he still had family in Dorset?”

  “I would assume so, yes. He didn’t really speak of them.”

  “Did he speak of his life before his travels at all?”

  “Only if I questioned him on it and even then he was quite brief on the subject. Why is that important?”

  “Everything is important my dear. A man who does not wish to speak of his past does not wish to think about his past. Family troubles, a broken heart, regrets for something one did...”

  “He never appeared troubled to me, it simply seemed to be a part of his life he gave little thought to.”

  “I see. Tell me about him, what did he look like?”

  “He was about average height, short-cropped dark brown hair only slightly lighter than your own, muscular but not overly so.”

  “What was the color of his eyes? Also I assume he was not clean-shaven from your earlier remark.”

  “He had remarkable green eyes and wore a well-trimmed beard.”

  “You said remarkable when referring to the young man’s eyes. Please elaborate.”

  “They were just exceptionally green. The depth of the color was unique.”

  “Very well. Please explain to me how you came to be romantically involved with Colin.”

  She nodded. Most of her timidity seemed to have evaporated and she had become used to my customary rapid-exchange dialogue but I detected just a hint of hesitation before she continued. “He worked here on the estate for two months, I believe, before I had occasion to actually speak with him in any meaningful capacity.”

  “Details.” I demanded, relaxing back into my seat and puffing from my newly acquired pipe.

  “We had exchanged pleasantries several times. I often accompany my brother and his friends on their fox-hunts, merely as a curative for the terrible boredom I often suffer from, and I would see Colin when I would go to the stable to retrieve my horse, Melody. The first time I met him I admired his handsomeness and his gentle way of speaking as well as his attentiveness to the horses. Then one night in mid-August I got into a terrible argument with my father and stormed off into the night. I went to the stables to retrieve Melody, planning to ride away to Leeds with nothing more than the clothes on my back and the small amount of money in my purse and from there to take a train to anywhere I could afford. It was Colin who sat with me for what was likely two or more hours and convinced me to stay. He was so gentle and kind, not like the suitors that my father kept insisting I meet. Most were simply old and unappealing. Those who were young and handsome were always like my brother, crass and self-concerned. I have consistently refused and will continue to refuse to marry a man who is only concerned with his own thoughts and desires.”

  I motioned for her to continue.

  “Not one week after we spoke that night in the stable my father brought a particularly old, unattractive and tactless man home to meet me. I flew into a rage and slapped him squarely across the face after he whispered something quite inappropriate into my ear. For once my father and brothers took my side and demanded the man leave immediately but it did not prevent my anger from seething over. After telling them in no uncertain terms exactly how I felt about them I stormed out of the house and went to see if Colin was in the stable. As luck would have it he was and he accompanied me on a long walk about the property and was kind enough to listen to my ranting with not so much as a single complaint. We spent the night together, though nothing of the intimate nature occurred, in one of the abandoned cottages at the edge of the estate.”

  The one Mrs. Peterson had spoken of no doubt.

  “The next morning my youngest brother was out playing and caught sight of us walking back from the direction of the cottage and ran to tell Adrian who, of course, flew into a unmitigated frenzy over the entire affair. To protect Colin I told Adrian that I’d wandered off into the woods alone and that the stable-boy had seen me go. When I’d not returned by sunrise he’d set off to find me and bring me back to the house.”

  “Adrian seemed most suspicious but took my word and did not have my father dismiss Colin. That very same night I went to visit the young man at the stable again and managed to catch him before he returned to his room. Rather brazenly I kissed him and much to my relief he quickly returned the gesture. Over the next several weeks we courted as would any typical couple, save for the fact that we attempted to conceal the affair from my family. Within a month our nanny, Tripti, was helping me sneak into his room or he into mine several nights per week.”

  “She would do that, risk her position to help a young lady have a forbidden romance?”

  “Tripti left India to avoid marrying a man that her parents promised her to. She had been in love with another young man and it broke her heart to do so. She empathized with my situation I suppose.”

  “Now, I must ask this question Miss Dunning, so please do not take offense. Are you, at this moment, with child?”

  To my delight Elizabeth did not react to the question, she simply answered it. “As it has been only two weeks and some days since Mr. Wright’s passing I cannot be absolutely certain but as of today I am not aware of being so.”

  “Thank you. So you were never caught in your clandestine rendezvous?”

  “In our evenings together no, at least not that I am aware. Sometime around Christmas, however, my youngest brother Cyril caught sight of us holding hands and kissing in the garden. He reported it to my father and Adrian, both of whom had much to say on the matter. I did not hear the end of it for nearly a week. I told them that I was in love with Colin and that they would simply have to live with that fact or that I would choose to run away with him to start a life someplace else. Father threatened to terminate Colin’s employment but I told him that if he did so I would use every one of his secrets against him. He almost seemed pleased by my rather shocking use of tactics to get my way.”

  “Everyone seemed to have dropped the matter for a while until late January when once again my fath
er tried to marry me off. He must have searched high and low, for the man he presented me with was surprisingly handsome and quite mild-mannered but still I refused. I announced that I would marry only Colin and if he would not have me then I would die a spinster. My father, of course, asked if my young man had proposed and I answered him truthfully, that he had not. He tried to sway me, to convince me that Colin was only interested in taking the virtue of a well-bred lady and that he had no intention of marrying me. I countered with the fact that he likely never asked because he knew that it would not be blessed by my father. I also made comment that even if he were simply a selfish young man he’d be a fool not to marry the wealthy young lady who’s heart he’d captured. For that my father had no response. I thought the matter put to rest once again until the morning when Kwame found Colin lying dead in the stable.”

  “Had you seen your young man the night before?”

  “Yes.”

  “But you’d not spent the night together?”

  A slight look of embarrassment crossed her face, “He did come to visit me in my room if that is what you are alluding to but he did not remain the entire night.”

  “Why not? Your family knew of your involvement. Did they think it not consummated?”

  “Truth be told I did my best to conceal that fact from them. Most nights that he visited me he left shortly after mid-night.”

  “So that you would not be discovered together in the morning?”

  “Somewhat…he also said that he favored a walk about the grounds before settling down.”

  “You did not find that odd in any way?”

  “I suppose not. My father is known to take constitutionals at odd hours.”

  “I see. So you parted around mid-night and then did not see him again.”

  She paused, trying reign in her emotions. “Yes. That was the last time I saw him.”

  Interesting. “Last time you saw him alive you mean?”

  “No.” she blurted out, “The last time I ever saw him.”

  “So there was no funeral?”

  “No. My father would not allow it. He did not even allow me to see the body. The coroner from Bramsforth, an old friend to my father, came quickly to the estate to pronounce him dead and then they rushed him into a grave.”

  “A coroner? What is his name? I may wish to speak with him.”

  “Cotton Farragut. I believe that we have his telephone number should you wish to contact him.”

  “Indeed, I shall do so after we conclude our conversation. So where is Mr. Wright buried?”

  I had posed my question with such fervor that I had failed to notice the young lady breaking down into tears. I had little skill in comforting a woman, my own emotional frailties preventing me from even properly consoling myself in times of heartache, so I could only sit and wait for her to compose herself.

  “They would not even tell me Mr. Carson.” she sobbed. “A man I loved, as a wife loves her husband, and I cannot even visit his grave!”

  “I am terribly sorry Miss Elizabeth. Mr. Wright’s resting place is one of the facts I shall endeavor to uncover in my investigation. You may rest assured that I will notify you the moment that I have done so, so that you may pay your proper respects. Now if I may I just need to bother you for a few more details before I make my call to the coroner.”

  She nodded as she wiped away the last of her tears.

  “How, precisely did the young man die? By this I mean what were the physical circumstances that resulted in his death and thereby your suspicion that he was possibly murdered?”

  “Kwame was sent by Mrs. Kyle to see why Colin was not at breakfast. He found him resting on a pitchfork as if he had fallen backwards onto it.”

  “But you believe that it was no accident?”

  “I do not know Inspector. If your investigation reveals that it was then I will accept that truth and go on with my life. The haste with which he was buried, however, and the strangeness with which my father and brothers have been behaving leads me to believe that something very untoward may have taken place and I simply need to know.”

  “I can certainly understand. I will have many more questions for you, most of the minor sort, so I will speak with you likely several more times today but I believe that I have enough information to begin with. If you would be kind enough to retrieve the coroner’s number for me and show me to the telephone I will place my call and commence questioning the others.”

  “Thank you Mr. Carson.” she said very sincerely. “I cannot bear the thought of living in the presence of someone who has conspired to murder the man that I loved. If that is the case, be they family or not, I will see to it that they are brought to justice for committing such a terrible crime. Even if Colin had not been my lover I could not turn a blind eye to such a happening.”

  “Your conviction is admirable Miss Dunning. Many I have met only respect the law when it is in their or their family’s own interest.”

  “Is it not only decent Mr. Carson?” her eyes were alight with a passionate flame.

  “Indeed my dear, indeed.” I shook my head as I puffed on my pipe.

  The Master

  Despite her account being not quite as thorough as I would have preferred I had chosen to give a certain amount of consideration to a young woman in such a state as she. I found myself anxious to call the coroner on the telephone and thought it quite a blessing that the estate even had one installed. My joy, however, was to be short lived. The man on the other end of the line was apparently quite busy and seemed to be rather upset that I was taking up a part of his day. As I suspected he confirmed his ruling that the boy’s death had been an accident but I had hoped to at least glean some other useful information from him. I did not, he was most uncooperative and made it quite clear to me that since I was not an official police inspector that I should trust his word and leave the matter be. As I was concluding the unfruitful conversation I caught sight of Mrs. Kyle, the maid, walking past so I stopped her to ask where I might find the master of the house.

  “Excuse me Madame. Mrs. Kyle is it?”

  “Yes.” she stopped in her tracks and answered in a mildly annoyed tone of voice.

  “Might I inquire as to where I can find Mr. Dunning?”

  She shrugged, “Your guess is as good as mine. If I had to hazard a guess I’d say somewhere out near the garden or along the walking path east of the house.”

  “Thank you Madame. Sorry to have troubled you.”

  With that I set off in search of the estate’s owner. From my understanding of his character I reasoned that I would have a somewhat difficult time getting him to sit with me and speak. I was absolutely right. When I did happen to find him it was on a bench under a large oak tree along the east walking path just as Mrs. Kyle had predicted. Much to my chagrin, however, upon sitting down next to him the man rose and began to walk away without so much as a greeting.

  “Mr. Dunning!” I yelled as I went after him. “Mr. Dunning my name is Robert Carson I’m an inspector from London. I’ve come to investigate the death of Colin Wright.”

  “Who asked you to come here?” he responded as he turned to face me. What had eluded his friends and family for years did not escape my attention. The constriction of his pupils told me instantly that he had some form of opiate addiction as did the expression upon his face. I recognized it all too well. Whatever it was that he had taken it was only just beginning to take effect and he wished to avoid interacting with anyone for fear that they would detect the euphoria that was rapidly setting in. The acne, uncommon for a man his age, also did its part to reveal his secret.

  “Miss Elizabeth retained my services.”

  “Bah. I should have known she would not leave the matter be.” he put a hand on my shoulder and looked directly into my eyes, wishing to end the conversation. “Mr. Wright stumbled and fell upon a pitchfork, there is nothing more to tell than that Mr. Carson.”

  With that he turned and began to walk away once more. If he thought tha
t he was going to escape my questioning he was sorely mistaken. I quickly caught up to him and fell in step alongside him.

  “Then certainly you won’t mind answering just a few quick questions.”

  “Mr. Carson, please leave me be lest I ask you to vacate my property.”

  I was not in a mood conducive to tolerating his stubbornness. I reached down and grabbed his right hand, the one that held his walking stick.

  “See here now Inspector. Unhand me!”

  I waited until he turned and looked me squarely in the eyes. “Mr. Dunning I would prefer not to notify your family, friends and every business associate that I can find...and believe me I can find them, of your opiate addiction.”

  The older gentleman recoiled. Had I not been holding his hand he would have taken a step back. Shortly his surprise turned into an expression of frustration. “You would be right in assuming that I would not wish that information be public knowledge. Walk with me and ask your questions but then you will leave me to my constitutional. Understood sir?”

  I was keenly aware that I had approached the limit to which I could push the man, were I to persist he would evict me from the grounds and gladly suffer the consequences of his secret becoming uncovered. Likewise I knew not what affiliations he held in London and I did not wish to find myself returning to a city filled with his allies hell-bent on making my life difficult.

  “Thank you sir.” I said in an apologetic tone and released him from my grasp. “I will only take a moment of your time and I shall keep pace with you so as to not disturb with your walk.”

  He grunted his acceptance and I walked alongside him as he continued down the path. The day was cold but only the slightest breeze was to be felt so it was still pleasant. Clouds remained in the sky but the morning mist had faded away and there was no hint of eminent precipitation. Had I packed a little hop for myself I very well could have imagined myself partaking in some and enjoying the constitutional every bit as much as Mr. Dunning. There was something about the country that seemed as though it would be an infinitely more pleasant setting in which to find oneself wrapped into the warm embrace of an opium high.