The Affair of the Christmas Card Killer (Lord Kit Aston Book 1)

by Jack Murray

  Mary continued, ‘Jane and Henry were closer in age. They were thick as thieves for a while and then, as Essie says, everything changed. I went away, Esther, too. Jane was left alone. Probably this was a source of resentment. Who knows?’

  ‘I don’t think she goes to school anymore,’ added Esther.

  ‘Why would she?’ responded Mary, ‘She would be too advanced for the other children in the village.’

  ‘True,’ said Esther, ‘She loved the library – she would spend her time there when she couldn’t be with the horses.’

  Kit listened intently for the next few minutes as the sisters, virtually ignoring him, discussed Jane. Finally, he asked, ‘You say she’s distant with you now?’

  ‘Yes, not exactly friendly but not unfriendly either,’ replied Esther, ‘You’re not suggesting she had something to do with Grandpapa’s death?’

  ‘No,’ said Kit, ‘just a loose end, but I think I understand the tracks in the snow now and why the staff remained quiet on the subject.’

  Mary clapped her hands excitedly, ‘I think I know. Books. Jane was coming to get books from the library.’

  ‘Of course,’ exclaimed Esther, ‘Very good Mary, you should be a detective.’

  Kit smiled at Mary, ‘I think you’re right for the most part.’

  This caused Mary to frown at Kit, ‘Most part?’

  ‘For another time Mary. Anyway, I’m not as quick to jump to conclusions as the sleuths of Cavendish Hall. I prefer something the legal profession has designated as being fundamental in criminal cases.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ asked Esther.

  ‘He’s mocking us Essie, ignore him. Evidence is overrated, Lord Aston,’ observed Mary.

  ‘I shall remind you of that.’

  ‘Very well Lord Aston,’ said Mary, ‘If it’s evidence you are searching for, have you uncovered any yet pointing to a motive from a potential killer or, at the very least, person who likes writing threatening Christmas cards?’

  Kit sat down on one of the seats and shook his head ruefully. ‘Harry and I have spoken to everyone. Some questions remain unanswered but for the most part I can see no obvious motive for either the threatening cards or anything else, so far.’

  ‘You haven’t questioned everyone,’ pointed out Mary.

  Kit looked at Mary and Esther questioningly, ‘Who have I missed?’

  ‘Your man, Mr Miller,’ answered Mary. Before Kit could speak, she handed him the photograph of the battalion. ‘Tell me what you see in this picture.’

  Kit looked at it for a moment and said, ‘Your uncle in the centre, Strangerson sitting at the end.’

  ‘Look at the soldier with the cocked hat,’ said Mary looking at Kit.

  The reaction of Kit was immediate. ‘Good Lord, it’s Harry.’ Then he looked at the date of the photograph. It read, August 1914. Looking up at Mary and Esther he said, ‘Seems a bit funny, Harry didn’t join until at least a year later.’ He looked again at the soldier with the cocked hat. There could be no question, it looked like Harry. Even the pose seemed to be very much in the cocky spirit of Harry. Why would he mislead Kit on his joining up date? The confusion on Kit’s face was evident and finally Mary put him at ease.

  ‘It’s not your Mr Miller. Look again.’

  She was right. It looked like Harry, but it was a different man. Kit took a moment to reflect on Mary’s words. Harry had never mentioned family and Kit had avoided bringing the topic up. There were many reasons why Harry might be wary of revealing too much about his family background. From the very start of their working relationship, even friendship thought Kit, Harry had been open about a past which existed on the edge of the law. It was possible his family had also been involved in criminal activity.

  Looking up at Mary he said finally, ‘Strange, Harry never mentioned a brother to me. In fact, we never really talked about his family. I always sensed he was a little reluctant to do so. Looking at the face, it seems very like him but, yes, I can see it isn’t. How did you uncover this?’

  Mary explained, ‘You put it in my head, when you asked if we’d moved the picture, so I thought to check it in more detail. This man was the first person I saw, the one with the cocked hat. I’m certain grandpapa saw it too.’

  ‘I’m sure he did, Mary, Harry even remarked on how strangely Lord Cavendish had looked at him. However, it seems odd to me. How could your grandfather possibly have any recollection of an individual soldier? Contact with someone of his rank would have been infrequent to say the least.’

  ‘I know, that’s why we checked into this with a friend at the War Office,’ said Mary. Kit looked up with surprise at her as she said this. Noting his reaction gave Mary a warm glow of pride. She wanted him to appreciate her intelligence but at the same time she hated the fact that his approval made her happy. For another time she thought, then continued with her explanation, ‘We rang Charlie Chadderton this morning, he’s an old family friend.’

  ‘Chubby Chadderton!’ exclaimed Kit, ‘My word, I can’t believe you know old Chubby. Actually, I shouldn’t really be surprised. Typical Chubby. He seems to know everyone. Particularly if they’re young and pretty.’

  Mary smiled, ‘Thank you for the compliment your Lordship. Is he really nicknamed Chubby? He’s not fat.’

  ‘Exactly.’ replied Kit

  Mary shook her head, ‘Men! I can’t believe you’re all allowed the vote and most of us aren’t’

  Esther laughed also and then tears welled up in her eyes. She took Mary’s hand and the sisters were silent for a few moments. Then Mary continued, ‘We asked Charlie about our uncle’s battalion and gave him Mr Miller’s name. He confirmed Harry had joined in fifteen, but he also mentioned a brother who joined in fourteen.’

  ‘This is all very well but how do you construe a motive from this?’

  There was a slight hesitation from Mary. Esther glanced up at Mary and said, ‘His brother was executed by firing squad. By our troops.’

  ‘Good Lord. No wonder he never said anything. Did Chubby say why?’

  Mary chipped in, ‘No this part has been redacted. We don’t know why he was executed but this isn’t material to any motive relating to grandpapa. However, we know uncle Robert was in charge of the firing squad. As well as this, Charlie also found out that when his request for a reprieve was denied, it was grandpapa who headed the review tribunal. My grandfather effectively condemned Harry’s brother to death,’ Mary looked sadly at Kit then added, ‘I think he has a very strong motive indeed.’

  -

  At this same moment, Miller arrived back in the kitchen. All of the staff were there including a rather portly, red-faced moustachioed man who was happily tucking into one of Elsie’s pies. Beside him was a younger man in Police uniform. Miller had too much experience with the Police not to recognize a Detective Inspector when he saw one. He calmly walked in and breezily introduced himself, ‘Afternoon sir. The name’s Harry Miller. I’m Lord Aston’s man.’

  Stott had not arrived at his present state of corpulence by allowing possible criminals to interrupt his repast. He spent fully another two minutes polishing every last crumb of the delicious pie before he deigned to look up at Miller. He nodded and then motioned for Miller to take a seat.

  The ever-mischievous Miller smiled and said, ‘Good to meet you too.’ He winked at Elsie who smiled, as did the young Policeman, noted Miller. No doubt, the overweight Officer of the law was as sympathetic to his subordinates as he was to suspects. Whatever had taken place with Lord Cavendish, Miller had complete confidence the man before him would not be the one to pull back the curtain of doubt to allow the light of truth to shine.

  Thankfully Stott decided not to have dessert. Standing up he finally addressed the staff. ‘Good afternoon. My name is Inspector Stott,’ he paused for dramatic effect then continued, ‘and this is Constable Coltrane.’ It was difficult not to detect the disdain in Stott’s voice for his colleague.

  ‘We will be making some preliminary investiga
tions. However, it must be repeated, there’s nothing to suggest that anyone has done anything wrong. I would like you to cooperate fully with Constable Coltrane who will be taking statements from each of you.’

  The speech finished, Stott turned to Miller, ‘Now, you there, show me where Lord Aston can be found. Perhaps he’s with the two ladies.’ Looking at Agnes, he said, ‘And can you get Lady Emily? I will see all in the drawing room.’

  Miller led Stott out of the kitchen and back up the stairs to the drawing room. Bright was reading a newspaper brought from the village by, the recently returned, Strangerson. He, too, was sitting in the drawing room. Strangerson stood up and proffered his hand, ‘Hello old boy, the name’s Strangerson.’

  It was immediately clear to Stott that Strangerson was a gentleman. In Stott’s experience, one could intimidate the lower orders with impunity. However, attempting a similar approach with one’s betters was fraught with danger. His preferred approach was to fall within a spectrum beginning with deference and going as far as unctuous toadying when the occasion demanded. He shook Strangerson’s hand enthusiastically.

  ‘Stott. Inspector Stott. I’m here to look into the matter of the Lord Cavendish’s passing.’

  ‘Capital!’ said Strangerson, ‘I’m sure you’re just the man to get to the bottom of this.’

  ‘I’ve had some modest success,’ admitted Stott but could not elaborate further as Lady Emily stalked into the room accompanied by Henry. Forty years of detection, if not at the highest levels, were more than enough for Stott to recognize the manifest superiority of Lady Emily’s status. Stott recalibrated his levels of his sycophancy to their highest level. He bowed to the new entrant.

  ‘Who might you be?’ asked Lady Emily with a hauteur she always reserved for public officials.

  ‘Inspector Stott at your service, your ladyship. And this,’ indicating Coltrane, ‘is Constable Coltrane.’

  Lady Emily nodded and then said, ‘You asked for myself and Henry to come down.’ Stott noted how she did not condescend to add a friendly “is there any way we can help”? In fact, Stott found Lady Emily an altogether splendid example of the English upper class, a system of social organization he not only believed in but had spent his life upholding.

  ‘I did request your ladyship to join us. I won’t detain you long.’ This declaration was finished off with another bow, the effect of which amused Bright immensely, appalled Henry deeply and, happily, won over Lady Emily to the portly detective.

  -

  Esther looked sympathetically at Kit, ‘I’m so sorry Kit. We’re really not accusing Mr Miller of anything.’

  ‘Yet,’ added Mary looking at Kit directly. After a few moments silence, they agreed it would be best to rejoin others and wait for the Police to arrive.

  ‘How do we get out of here?’ asked Kit.

  ‘Do you find the idea of being trapped in a secret room with two defenseless, young sisters so very frightful?’ smiled Mary.

  ‘Mary!’ exclaimed Esther chuckling, ‘I really don’t know where you get these ideas.’

  ‘I agree,’ said Kit, ‘The idea of you both being defenseless, is a complete calumny. I wouldn’t stand for it Esther.’

  ‘You’re both as bad as one another,’ pronounced Esther laughing as they left the secret room and returned to the library. Kit put the picture back on the wall and stood back from it. He heard Esther saying, ‘I can hear voices in the drawing room. It sounds like the Police have arrived.’ However, Kit was not paying attention. Instead he walked closer to the picture again and looked more closely.

  ‘Kit, are you coming?’ asked Mary at the door.

  It took a few moments for Kit to answer and then he said, ‘Yes. Forgive me.’

  ‘What is it Kit? What have you seen?’

  ‘I’d like to get hold of Chubby. I have a few questions for him,’ replied Kit, avoiding answering Mary’s question directly, which caused her to frown. She brushed past Kit and went to the picture herself to look at it again. Seeing the others had left the room, she put the picture down, with some frustration, and followed them.

  Chapter 24

  The arrival of Kit and the two sisters into the drawing room interrupted the growing admiration between Lady Emily and Stott. It was rare for her to encounter such a commendable combination of gallantry and veneration. She was particularly pleased by the fact that his admiration stemmed not from a knowledge or appreciation of her qualities so much as her position in society. She had felt for many years such deference was being lost in the uninterrupted march of progress.

  Stott excused himself from Lady Emily and took on an increased solemnity of manner as he was presented to the sisters and Kit. His presence was a stark reminder to them of what had happened, and both were visibly upset. To the credit of Stott, his manner with the two sisters was gentle and less servile than hitherto. He confined his meeting with them to expressing condolence for their loss and requesting, with a surprising degree of delicacy, their permission to transfer the late Lord to a hospital. It was unnecessary to add this would be for a post mortem, but he felt relieved by Lady Mary’s acknowledgement that the surprising nature of the death would require early confirmation of cause.

  Following this dialogue, the sisters retired to their grandfather’s room to wait the moment when he would be moved. Stott then turned to Kit and bowed slightly, ‘I’m sorry to meet you in such tragic circumstances. May I have a few moments with you in private?’

  ‘By all means, let’s go to the dining room.’

  Stott had heard of Lord Kit Aston and meeting the man in person, he was every bit as impressive in real life. Aston confirmed everything Stott believed about the superiority of the Englishman and, specifically, the English nobility. The height, his noble bearing, the steady blue eyes, his manifest intelligence and unquestionable courage bespoke generations if not centuries of breeding.

  This was the kind of man he could look up to, literally and, well literally. It was immensely gratifying to Stott how much Lord Aston looked the part. The exploits of Aston during the War were well documented. If the rumours were true, just as many of his exploits were not. In other circumstances Stott would love to have heard more about what the newspapers called, ‘The French Diplomat Affair’. Perhaps if the demise of Lord Cavendish was not brought about by another’s hand, he might broach the subject at a later date.

  ‘I hope I’ve not upset the ladies with my request,’ opened Stott, with sincerity.

  ‘On the contrary Inspector Stott, I must commend your tact. It’s clear that an inquest is necessary, the key to which will be a post mortem. I’m guessing you’re familiar with the threatening notes Lord Cavendish received over the last few years.’

  ‘I am, sir. Horrible business. I did the original investigation into the matter but, alas, we were unable to uncover anything.’

  ‘But your presence may have dissuaded this madman from undertaking any violence towards Lord Cavendish, so in this respect you did well.’

  ‘I am aware from the newspapers and also internal correspondence that you, sir, have experience in investigative matters. I gather also, from the staff and guests, you’ve made some preliminary inquiries. Would you be able to acquaint me with all you’ve learned? I’m keen not to take statements from the guests quite yet until we have understood more from the coroner.’

  ‘I quite understand, Inspector.’

  For the next half hour, Kit related most of what he’d discovered over the last few days including the missing cards threatening Lord Cavendish. This news dismayed Stott, but he managed to keep control of his reaction. If the cards had not been mislaid, then it meant someone had deliberately taken them to avoid them being seen by the Police.

  The only things Kit held back in his report related to the battalion photograph and the tracks to and from the Edmunds cottage. The former point might throw an unfavourable light on Miller. This would be a distraction as there was no question in Kit’s mind that Miller was unconnected to the n
otes. A similar consideration informed his reluctance to discuss the tracks in the snow. Kit was fairly certain the tracks were not material anyway, but he needed to confirm this separately.

  The questions Stott asked confirmed Kit’s impression that the detective was not interested in pursuing an investigation. Furthermore, he did not appear to mind Kit starting an investigation on his own initiative. This was welcome news for Kit. The pliability of the Inspector meant he could pursue matters on his own. Kit trusted his instincts: he felt sure there was a case here, but its nature was frustratingly just out of his reach.

  Having finished his report to Stott, and before returning to the others, Kit asked the Inspector about the original investigation when the notes had first appeared. Stott related how the Metropolitan Police had also become involved because the notes had come from London. The investigation soon petered out when it became apparent no attempt was being made on Cavendish’s life.

  The two men returned to the drawing room. Coltrane was diligently capturing details from Strangerson and Bright on their movements over the two days. He brightened up considerably when Kit nodded to him and said, ‘Well done Constable.’ Stott looked unimpressed. This lack of enthusiasm turned to outright displeasure with Coltrane’s next comment.

  ‘Sir, do you think it would be an idea to conduct a search of the rooms?’

  ‘What are we looking for?’ asked Stott.

  ‘Evidence sir?’

  ‘Such as?’

  ‘Poison?’ offered Coltrane hesitantly.

  ‘Capital idea,’ said Strangerson, clapping the young Constable on the back.

  ‘Indeed, very good Coltrane, you finally got there. We’ll make a detective of you yet,’ said Stott trying to make the best of an increasingly bad situation.

  ‘Good idea Constable,’ said Kit nodding. ‘May I suggest, sir you start with the guest rooms before going downstairs. It would be counter-productive to the peace of the household if the staff felt they were under suspicion.’