by Jack Murray
‘I haven’t finished with you yet,’ snarled Kit with evident dislike.
‘All lies, you can’t prove any of this,’ said Strangerson.
‘Can’t I? What if I told you there were two witnesses to the murder of Robert Cavendish? Would this convince you?’
This stopped Strangerson in his tracks. He was clearly astonished by this revelation.
‘I saw the shot which killed him. I’ve seen it virtually every night since then,’ confessed Kit. ‘I’ve seen enough men die to know that the direction of the bullet could only have from behind. It couldn’t have been a German.’
‘Preposterous, you’re making it up.’
‘Really? Then how do you explain a letter the War Office received earlier this year? A German commander wrote claiming to have witnessed a British army sniper murder a British officer. The date and the time tallies exactly with the death of Robert and, crucially, he described you perfectly. Not only that, according to this officer, your partner Teddy Masters saw what happened. It was the night he was killed by a sniper. He probably took a bullet meant for you.’
Strangerson looked dismissive, ‘Are you really going to take the word of a dirty Boche ahead of a British officer? Fritz was after me for half the War. I killed so many of their men. They couldn’t kill me so now they want to smear me, and you’re falling for it.’
‘You’re forgetting one thing Strangerson. The Christmas cards,’ pointed out Kit.
‘Back to those, are we? So?’
‘You didn’t just send them to Lord Cavendish. You sent one to Robert too.’
Lady Emily who had been watching with growing astonishment gasped, ‘Robert said nothing to me.’
‘It was found among his belongings. The ministry kept it back for fear of distressing you further, Emily’ explained Kit. ‘The truth was the army didn’t believe the message in the card. They thought it a German trick, perhaps to unsettle Robert.’,
Kit looked back at Strangerson and said, ‘You’ll know, obviously, the note inside the card was typed. The Police are in your Bayswater flat as I speak, Strangerson. What do you think the chances are they’ll find a typewriter? I’d say they were very strong, wouldn’t you? Oh yes, there’s a bottle of a foul-smelling liquid underneath the mattress in your bedroom. My guess is that it contains a poison, probably a curare or some such thing you picked up on your travels. I think you intended to use this on Lord Cavendish, possibly in small doses, enough to make him ill slowly and give you time to exit before the cumulative impact of the poison wrought its deadly impact. As I recall you offered to pour him a drink on a number of occasions. Sadly, for you he declined. If fate hadn’t given you such a helping hand, I suspect you would’ve become quite desperate.’
Strangerson looked defeated. His shoulders slumped, his body seemed to go limp. Then, without warning he sprang to life and threw off Bright and Miller. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a gun. Pointing the weapon at Kit, Strangerson’s composure returned.
‘Well I suppose congratulations are in order, Aston. You’ve assembled a fairly effective case which could put a noose around my neck. However, I’m not quite sure I want that to happen just yet.’
He looked down at the sisters. It was clear to Kit he intended taking a hostage. Strangerson continued talking, ‘Yes, it was a useful drive I had with Devlin. Familiarised myself with the car and the area too, just in case things got a bit sticky. I think it’s time to say “toodle pip’, though. Unfortunately, I’ll have to take one of the lovely ladies with me as security. Don’t worry, I shan’t harm them, my dealings with the Cavendish family were strictly for the male members. Now, who shall I choose?’
‘Take me,’ said Mary.
‘No!’ shouted Esther but Mary was already on her feet and moving towards Strangerson.
‘Let the lady through gentlemen,’ said Strangerson gesturing to Miller, Bright and Simmons to stand aside. Slowly he walked backwards towards the door holding the gun at Mary. Kit stood looking on, numb with fear, for Mary and thinking furiously about how to rescue the situation. He was angry for not anticipating Strangerson might have a gun. If anything happened, he knew he’d would never forgive himself.
‘Thank you, gentlemen,’ said Strangerson, without looking at Curtis he ordered, ‘Open the door.’
Curtis did as he was told. Strangerson waited for Mary to arrive beside him. As the door opened there was a bark. Sam came running in. Caught by surprise Strangerson looked down. This was his mistake.
Curtis, seeing an opportunity, smacked the gun downwards, causing it to fire into the floor. Sam leapt up at Strangerson and bit his hand forcing him to let go of the gun. Seconds later a single punch dispatched Strangerson into a state of unconsciousness.
Reverend Simmons stood over him, holding his hand and said, ‘I’ll never know how bareknuckle fighters did it.’
Kit was by Mary in seconds, she seemed much more in control than he. Bending down he retrieved the gun and patted the little dog, ‘Good boy. Extra biscuits for you tonight.’
Mary bent down and picked up Sam who started to lick her face, ‘My hero.’ she said laughing in relief.
Simmons looked at Kit but tilted his head towards Strangerson, ‘I think he could be out for a while.’
‘I wouldn’t be surprised. You certainly caught him. I’m not sure Sam Langford would’ve survived a punch like that. I can’t begin to thank you,’ said Kit, putting his arm around Mary. She looked at him doing this but did not seem to object.
‘I’m sure I’ll think of something,’ replied Simmons looking at Mary.
The prone Strangerson was being dragged by Coltrane and Miller onto a seat, attended by Bright and Stott. It looked as if his nose was broken and both his eyes were starting to swell. Coltrane checked his pockets for any other weapons. There was only a wallet and a cigarette case. Glancing at Stott about what to do with these items, he received a shake of the head, so he returned both items into Strangerson’s pocket.
Stott came over and shook the uninjured hand of Simmons, ‘If you ever decide to have a change of career, Reverend, I’ll happily have you in my team. And you too, Mr Curtis.’
Kit smiled and looked at the butler affectionately, ‘I think that the Cavendish family owes you a great debt. It was remarkably quick thinking.’
A glowing Curtis bowed slightly but decided to let his actions speak for themselves. The glow turned a very bright red seconds later when Mary kissed him gently on the forehead and smiled. Moments later Esther embraced him also saying, ‘Thank you Curtis. Thank you so much.’
Strangerson slowly began to regain consciousness. Through his half-closed eyes he saw Lady Emily looking at him. He looked up at her but was too groggy to think of anything to say. She turned away to look at Reverend Simmons and nodded to him before moving out the door of the library.
-
The library cleared as Stott, Coltrane and Bright took Strangerson to the drawing room to give him time to recover. Coltrane put handcuffs on his wrists which allowed Bright the opportunity to examine him before he was taken away.
‘Looks like a broken nose, Inspector,’ noted Bright.
‘No more than he deserved,’ replied Stott.
‘Indeed,’ agreed Bright. ‘After you leave I’ll call the County Hospital and maybe they can have someone meet you at the Police station to fix it. I’m afraid I can’t do much here.’
-
Under the calm direction of Curtis who, in the eyes of his colleagues, had gained in stature over the last half hour, the staff returned to their duties and normal routine.
For Curtis, the sooner life returned to its traditional rhythm at Cavendish Hall, the better he felt it would be for all. He was a man wedded to tradition, deviation from which was unwelcome. Although he recognized life would have to change following the passing of Lord Cavendish, he saw his role as ensuring that the running of the house would continue in the same ordered way it had for generations.
Never the most self-a
ware of individuals, Curtis for the first time, perhaps, became conscious of how his colleagues were looking at him. To his surprise, it dawned on him how much their respect meant something. As he looked at the hum of activity in the kitchen he felt a sense of pride. Spying Elsie attempting to lift a box of supplies he walked over, ‘Let me help you with this.’
-
Half an hour later, Strangerson had recovered his senses but was still in pain from the force of the blow delivered by Simmons. Cold packs had been applied to his eyes to control the swelling and Doctor Bright finally declared the “blighter” was ready to be moved to Lincoln and a Police prison cell.
Bright and Coltrane helped Strangerson to his feet. As he was still unsteady, they assisted him from the drawing room into the hallway.
‘Bring the car around Coltrane,’ ordered Stott, who took over holding the prisoner.
-
Only Kit and Mary remained in the library. They stood by the window and looked at one another. Then they both spoke at the same time.
‘Kit.’
‘Mary.’
‘Or should I say Nurse Tanner,’ said Kit with a smile.
Mary shot him a look and narrowed her eyes, ‘You may. And how would you like to be addressed? Mr Chekov or should I say Herr Adler or Mr Page?’
Kit laughed guiltily.
‘I’d my reasons as I’m sure you did. From now on and for the rest of our lives I think it should simply be Kit or,’ he thought for a moment, ‘my love.’
‘I think that’s acceptable.’
‘I’m sorry it had to be this way,’ said Kit thinking about Lord Cavendish. ‘I’d like to have known him better.’
Mary turned away to look out of the window but mainly to hide the tears stinging her eyes. She nodded but did not say anything.
Kit took hold of Mary’s hand, ‘Mary, there’s something I must say.’
She looked up at him. Kit opened his mouth to speak when there was a knock at the door.
‘Kit, Mary, we’re taking Strangerson away now.’ It was Bright.
Mary smiled and put her hand on Kit’s arm, ‘I’ve waited two years for this, I think I can manage a few more minutes.’
Not releasing her hand, both of them walked to the door and saw Bright with Stott holding up the dazed Strangerson. Bright noticed Kit and Mary were holding hands. Looking pointedly at their hands, he smiled at them both,
‘I look forward to hearing all about this,’ he said with a grin.
‘I may need a little bit longer,’ replied Kit glancing at Mary.
Strangerson looked in a bad way. His eyes were puffy and beginning to turn a purple hue. Tottering a little, he clearly looked like he needed the support of the two men.
Several other people had arrived to see Strangerson being led away. Miller stood beside Reverend Simmons and Henry made his way down the stairs. Lady Emily remained in her room. They all followed the three men to the door.
At the bottom of the steps, Strangerson turned to Stott and mumbled if he could have a cigarette. He nodded down his handcuffs.
‘My case, it’s in my pocket on your side Inspector.’
Stott reached inside his coat pocket to pull out the cigarette case. Opening it, he held it up for Strangerson to take a cigarette.
‘Thank you, Inspector,’ said Strangerson putting the cigarette in his mouth. He turned around slowly and faced Kit who was at the top of the steps. For a moment the two men looked at one another. Kit could see the purity of the hatred in Strangerson’s eyes. Oddly, at that moment he felt no hatred towards Strangerson. His life was about to change in the happiest of ways and he just wanted this affair to be over with.
It happened out of the blue.
One moment Kit and Strangerson were looking at one another, the next he heard Mary scream.
‘Kit! Look out!’
He felt himself pushed out of the way and he had to hold onto the pillar to avoid falling. As he did so, he saw out of the corner of his eye Mary collapse as if struck by a blow and Bright swipe something out of the mouth of Strangerson.
When it hit the ground, Kit saw it was a small blow pipe. He turned to Mary who had fallen into Miller and was now on the ground, a speck of blood on her neck.
‘She’s been poisoned.’ said Kit. He knelt down immediately trying to suck the poison from the wound and spit it out.
‘Don’t move, my love.’ He held her hand and looked up at Miller. ‘Harry, you and Coltrane search Strangerson’s belongings for an antidote.’
Miller immediately left for Strangerson’s room followed by Coltrane. Kit turned to Henry, ‘Henry, the book you took from the library, is there anything on how to counteract curare poisoning?’
‘I don’t need a book, I know what to do,’ replied Henry. Looking at Bright he said, ‘I need your medical bag. They both ran into the hallway to retrieve Bright’s bag.
Meanwhile Strangerson had been bundled roughly into the back of the Police car and Stott had added a couple more bruises to his rapidly swelling face.
Kit looked down at Mary, anxiety etched on his face. She seemed calm and looked at him in the eye. Panic gripped him. He held her hand tightly.
‘Don’t worry my love,’ Kit could barely control his tears and he stared into Mary’s eyes willing her to hold on, ‘I’m not going to let you get away again.’
Mary gripped Kit’s hand ever tighter but did not stop looking up at him. She could feel her breathing becoming more labored. Trying not to alarm Kit she attempted to smile but it was difficult to disguise for long how hard she was finding it to inhale. She heard some shouts. Was that Bright? Henry? Maybe it was Kit. Her head was swimming and she felt disoriented. A tingling sensation overcame her. The voices around her began to echo. And then the blackness came.
THE END
A Note from the Author
I hope you enjoyed the first Kit Aston book. The follow up book is entitled, ‘The Chess Board Murders’ and will be available in late 2018. It will follow on from the events of this book.
Please consider leaving a review so that others may find it and, hopefully, enjoy also.
I have made every effort to ensure historical authenticity within the context of a piece of fiction. Similarly, every effort has been made to ensure that the book has been edited and carefully proof read. Given that the US Constitution contained around 65 punctuation errors until 1847, I hope you will forgive any errors of grammar, spelling and continuity.
About the Author
Jack Murray lives just outside London with his family. Born in Ireland he has spent most of his adult life in the England. ‘The Affair of the Christmas Card Killer’ is his first novel.
Acknowledgements
It is not possible to write a book on your own. There is a contribution from so many people either directly or indirectly over many years. Listing them all would be an impossible task.
Special mention therefore should be made to my wife and family who have been patient and put up with my occasional grumpiness when working on this project.
My brother also helped in proof reading and made supportive comments that helped me tremendously.
My late father and mother both loved books. They encouraged a love of reading in me also. In particular, they liked detective books, so I must tip my hat to the two greatest writers of this genre, Sir Arthur and Dame Agatha.
Finally, my thanks to the teachers who taught and nurtured a love of writing.