Lord James Harrington and the Christmas Mystery

by Lynn Florkiewicz

  John let go of Anne’s hand. ‘Don’t you see? A coward who’s deceived his friends and neighbours, it would be disastrous. His name would be dragged through the mud. If she had lived, my mother would have been ostracised by the villagers. They’d have had to move. If this comes out Dad will have no choice but to move.’

  ‘B-but this person who has t-targeted your father – how would th-they know? They may have their f-facts wrong.’

  James was loath to pour water on Stephen’s small ounce of hope but he had to be realistic. ‘John’s right. Cynthia Carlton was clearly, from the small amount of time we spent with her, an astute woman. She knew something was awry with her husband. And this person who’s sent the letters – they’ve done their homework. They’ve been stalking William Carlton – they’ve overheard a conversation – they knew he was visiting Harrington’s.’ He addressed John. ‘Did your mother speak of any new friends she made?’

  The young man stared blankly and shrugged.

  Beth sighed. ‘You know what that means, don’t you?’

  James met her gaze. ‘It means that whoever poisoned our guests and murdered John’s mother, was a guest at Harrington’s.’

  Anne shifted in her chair. ‘I still don’t understand why Olivia Dupree was targeted.’

  He asked John to confirm that he didn’t know Olivia. John reiterated that the only time he’d met her was to ask for an autograph.

  ‘Well, that link will remain a mystery for the time being. But whoever is responsible for these attacks was, I’m sure, at both dinners.’

  ‘A-and had the t-time to visit the village and e-eavesdrop on the Carltons.’

  Beth checked her watch. ‘I’m so sorry to break this up, but we have guests for dinner tonight, James. We really must make a move.’

  James and Beth said their goodbyes and left John to have a moment with Stephen and Anne. They were the ideal couple to bring comfort and solace to a lost soul and, when they emerged from the lounge, they had already made arrangements to meet for afternoon tea the following day.

  ‘I-I will telephone you tonight. I-is the telephone still connected here?’

  ‘Yes.’

  James swung round. ‘Will you permit me a short call to DCI Lane?’

  ‘Of course. The telephone is on the desk in the study. You will have seen it earlier.’

  James dashed into the study and, after a couple of minutes, was connected through to George. After enquiring after his health, he confirmed that they were returning home and that he’d plenty to impart.

  ‘I have a concern, George.’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘These anonymous letters; I’m concerned about John’s safety. Someone targeted him before; his mother is already dead. Does this person intend to murder John? He’s on his own here.’

  ‘It’ll be a brave man to attempt another murder when such an investigation is going on but, yes, I’ll get in touch with the local constabulary. I’ll see if they can place someone in the vicinity to keep a look out.’

  Feeling more settled about leaving John in such an enormous house in the middle of the country, he tucked the vicious letters away in pocket and they made their way home. He was keen to know what George would make of them and whether Bert had discovered any news from his ‘Tommies’?

  CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

  Beth was relieved to be home in time to prepare the meal but, to both her and James’ surprise, Juliet and Harry had already dealt with the cooking.

  ‘My dear,’ said Juliet, ‘if you are being Watson to James’ Holmes, you won’t have time to prepare dinner too. The haddock is in the oven, I’ve just put the potatoes on and I’ve opened a tin of peas. That should suit your Inspector nicely.’

  Beth hugged her. ‘I think I’m more like Mrs Hudson than Watson, Juliet.’

  ‘Can I be Watson?’ said Harry with a grin.

  Twenty minutes later they were digging into a plain but tasty dinner. Juliet had poached the fish in milk and sprinkled it with pepper and drizzled it with a small knob of butter. James and Beth recounted their visit to Major Carlton’s house and the contents of the letters, along with John’s shock over the discovery of his father’s past. George held a finger up.

  ‘Was that shock genuine? Do you think he suspected anything?’

  ‘Absolutely not,’ replied James. ‘He suspected something was wrong because of his mother’s behaviour but he’d no idea about what it could be. I think this was the last thing he expected. He looked completely bamboozled.’

  Bert scooped up a forkful of mash. ‘What about Olivia Dupree? I don’t get why she was poisoned.’

  George sipped his water and looked at it in disgust. ‘Yes, that’s stumped me. I can’t get a connection.’

  ‘My dear,’ Juliet put in, ‘have you considered that Olivia could have been a trial run?’

  George sat back and stared at her.

  ‘I say,’ said James, ‘that’s a thought. Perhaps it was to confuse things.’

  ‘Blimey, if that’s what’appened, this bloke’s sparing no one’s feelings.’

  George used his fork to flake the fish from its skin. ‘I had another word with Olivia Dupree.’ He took a mouthful before continuing. ‘But you know what she’s like; claims someone tried to kill her but nothing’s happened since and nothing’s happened before. Either she’s linked in some way to the Carltons or, as you say Juliet, the killer was testing out the dose.’

  ‘Oh, that sounds too horrid,’ said Beth.

  Harry topped his wine glass up. ‘That sounds feasible. Poison is only poison if the dose isn’t right. I mean, we’ve already said that athletes have used strychnine to improve their performance but then our man Appleton uses it to kill moles.’

  Juliet dabbed her lips with her napkin. ‘You should leave Olivia Dupree out. There are no leads for you there, Inspector. You do have clues for your other victims and they may give up a connection to Olivia later in your investigation.’

  James was impressed at his guest’s forthright observation. ‘She’s right, George. Unless another attempt is made against Olivia, I think you need to focus on the Carltons. The entire family’s been hit; John is given a similar dose to Olivia, Cynthia was given an overdose and the Major’s up and run.’

  Beth waved her knife at George. ‘Ran in fear, I shouldn’t wonder.’

  ‘And where’s ’e scarpered to?’ asked Bert. ‘I reckon he’s latched ’imself onto a mate somewhere.’

  James confirmed that was his suspicion too, explaining the entries in the address book. ‘I tried to call this Major Niven Short but he wasn’t answering.’ He sipped his wine. ‘What about your chat with the Tommies, Bert? Harry said you might have some news.’

  Bert scraped his plate clean before pushing it away. ‘Yeah, interesting blokes. I popped into the British Legion in Brighton – I thought that’d be the best place to ask.’

  The British Legion helped servicemen and raised money for functions and Remembrance Day. Many clubs held dinner and dances for ex-service personnel and James, Bert and George all supported their branch of the Legion in Lewes.

  ‘There’s a lo’ of talk about shooting cowards and it turned a bit nasty for a while,’ said Bert. ‘Nothing vicious or anything but tempers went up depending on what you thought.’

  James asked him to elaborate.

  ‘Well, there’s two sides. There’s those that were cowards and those that weren’t. Those that weren’t are the ones who weren’t capable of fighting. You know, the shell-shock. There’s blokes that went off their nut and just wandered away. They didn’t know where they were or what they was doing. Then there’s the proper cowards, the ones who slipped away. Nothing wrong with ’em physically, just didn’t wanna fight.’

  A murmur of understanding went around the table.

  ‘There’s a couple of Tommies who saw one of their own slide off. He didn’t wanna die; he’d just got married and ’ad a kid on the way. He wanted to go ’ome.’

  ‘How old
was he?’ asked Beth.

  ‘Twenty.’

  ‘Oh, how sad.’

  ‘It’s right though. The army’s built on trusting the man you’re fighting with. You trust the bloke next to you with yer life. We all ’ad loved ones at ’ome. We all had families waiting for us. You can’t go wandering off.’

  James agreed. ‘That’s why they were shot. If you simply fined them or put them in prison, more people would have deserted. They had to set an example.’

  George pushed his plate away. ‘What about the officers? Did the Tommies hear about any officers being cowards?’

  ‘Yeah, they did. They don’t ’ave names but they ’eard rumour of an officer in the Sussex Regiment who was dodgy. Didn’t lead the men into battle - let the men down.’

  ‘But how?’ said Harry. ‘How could they get away with that? Surely someone would say something.’

  ‘Ah, but remember those diary entries,’ said James. ‘If the Major is the coward - and we think he is - he’s shot whoever witnessed this and terrified another into keeping quiet.’

  ‘Beastly,’ Juliet said. ‘He sounds like a coward. Running off when his wife’s been killed and his son attacked. And now the son has to arrange the funeral with the worry of where his father is hiding his pathetic carcass.’

  James raised his eyebrows and she held a hand up.

  ‘I’m sorry, James, but he came across as a pompous ass at that dinner last week whereas, in reality, he’s a timid mouse frightened of his own shadow.’

  Beth agreed and pushed Bert for any more information.

  ‘Not much more except that one bloke said you should get down to the Sussex Regiment museum. They’ve got quite a few bits and pieces down there about the battalions and who’s been commended and what battles they fought in. You might find something there.’

  James nodded. ‘I’d be interested to see the museum, especially if our Pals are featured.’

  Beth announced that she’d dish dessert up in the kitchen. Harry accompanied her. George meanwhile expressed his thoughts about specific names in respect of who committed the crime.

  He went on to announce that his questioning of all the guests had proved useful, if only to eliminate them from his enquiries. Many had been able to verify one another’s stories; a good number were regular visitors and, on cross-checking their statements, George confirmed their alibis were sound.

  ‘The table next to you, James, and the one that the Merryweathers were sitting at. Again, they’re regulars who attend every year. Their alibis check out with the girls waiting on the tables. The Pals that were with the Merryweathers are disabled and they gave no hint of knowing the Carltons. I’m confident they wouldn’t have been able to carry out a crime like this.’

  ‘So we’re left with the table where the Pals, and Enid and Mandy were sitting,’ James summed up.

  ‘You’re forgetting your staff, James.’

  James announced that he felt he had good reason to discount them. He noted George’s expression, one that questioned his sanity. He held a finger up.

  ‘One: Didier. He is rather demonstrative in his opinion of cowards. He’s capable of killing and has it in him to do so. Although he had nothing to do with the Sussex Regiment he ran the lines where they were fighting. He could have witnessed something that, as a result, affected him and the résistance. However, his handwriting does not match the diaries. His ego and reputation would not allow him to commit such a crime at Harrington’s. Any cowardice shown between an officer and his men is nothing to do with Didier or his family.’

  He held up a second finger. ‘Two: Adam. His family history in respect of the regiment is known to myself and George. However, there are no diaries, only letters, and again, the handwriting doesn’t match. Those letters also speak of getting impatient and wanting to fight. His words didn’t strike me as those of a coward.’

  He raised a third finger. ‘Three: Ernest Appleton. His brother wrote diaries but, again, the handwriting doesn’t match. I can’t see any motive or what Ernest would gain from such an act.’ He met Juliet’s eyes. ‘And four: Paul. Juliet, I believe you spoke with him earlier and got the same story as me.’

  ‘Yes, a pleasant man. His father served in the trenches. He did what he was told, never caused trouble, didn’t win any bravery awards but never shied from his duty. Claims he knows nothing about cowards. His father came out unscathed and lives with his brother in Eastbourne.’

  Bert knocked the table. ‘So a couple may ’ave a motive but it’s not likely.’

  ‘I do not believe them to be guilty.’

  George let out an impatient sigh and James held his hands up.

  ‘I know you think I’m wrong to dismiss them so easily but I have good reason. These men have been in my employ for years. They have given me no reason to challenge them on anything, inside or outside of work. Carlton lives just a few miles from here and I cannot imagine any one of these men wishing to sour the good name of Harrington’s and, indeed, mine or Beth’s name by committing an offence at such an event. They’ve all had every opportunity to target Carlton away from their workplace. Why carry out such an act and make yourself a suspect?’

  Bert said that this was fair enough and that George’s instinct must agree with that.

  ‘I must admit I do,’ said George, ‘but I’ve still got to check these people out to tidy things up.’

  ‘But,’ said Juliet with a twinkle in her eye, ‘these people are not at the top of your list. Excuse me for asking, Inspector, but have you checked Enid and Mandy for any links?’

  ‘I have, Miss Brooks-Hunter, and I’m struggling to find anything. Enid’s family are in Devon but her grand-dad was in the regular Sussex regiment. He was fighting near where our Pals were. Collins is trying to find out a little more. Mandy isn’t sure. She knows her grand-dad was in the Sussex regiment but that’s about it. She doesn’t recollect any diaries and hinted that both her dad and grand-dad were very childlike with their writing skills. Her grand-dad died when she was young and she doesn’t remember anything. He was her father’s father and she said the dad left them when she was young.’

  ‘Yes, I remember her talking about that. The mum’s just died. She’s been clearing the house out. I say, you know that Charlie is rather smitten with her, don’t you?’

  Bert snorted. ‘What, Mandy Billings?’

  ‘I think he was rather taken by her voice and looks. He’s walking around like a love-struck puppy.’

  Harry and Beth came in with bowls of treacle sponge pudding and custard. Harry gave George a small portion of custard, explaining that treacle sponge wouldn’t help his ulcer.

  ‘Oh, James,’ said Beth, ‘you’re talking about Charlie and Mandy. We met them in Elsie’s yesterday. He is quite enamoured with her although we didn’t think she was terribly maternal.’

  James added that he felt she could be a bit moody. ‘She struck me as blowing hot and cold during our conversation at Elsie’s.’ He turned to George. ‘What about the Pals?’

  George rubbed his chin. ‘Alfie Stone definitely wasn’t here for the first attack and I can’t trace any motive. Scotty Bull and Walter Anderson have no motive and seem genuine enough. The night that John was taken ill, Didier said they were chatting with him. They were on the dance floor when we think the water jug was taken up to Cynthia. And both Scotty and Walter are big men with chunky fingers. It would have been quite a feat to do this without being noticed, especially preparing the bottle of drops. Billy and Eddie Simmonds, again, are playing down any involvement but Eddie seems a little nervous. I’ve made enquiries but I can’t find anything dodgy about him.’

  Beth sat down. ‘So, do we have any plans?’

  ‘Yes. If George will allow me, I’ll pop down to the museum. It sounds pretty interesting and I can ask to look at any paperwork they have about the heroic Major.’

  ‘Pah,’ Juliet responded. ‘Heroic, my foot.’

  Harry piped up. ‘I’ve promised to help Mum and Mrs Merryweather w
ith the rehearsal for the carol service. The Reverend Merryweather is over at Loxfield and finding it difficult to fit everything in.’

  Beth gave James a playful shrug. ‘Sorry, you’re on your own.’

  ‘This is police business,’ George put in. ‘Inspector Collins will have to go down.’

  ‘Piffle,’ said Juliet. ‘He sounds intolerant of constructive help. I’ll accompany you, James, and we’ll report back to you, George. You can pass it on to that odious little man.’

  George glowered.

  ‘You’ve no need to be boorish, Inspector. I’m far more qualified than either of you to trace documents and dissect useful information. And anyway, the museum is open to the public so you cannot stop us having a morning out.’

  James grinned. Juliet, of course, had been an agent for the government many years previously and assisted in ways he could never imagine. George heaved a sigh of resignation.

  CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

  The following day, James and Juliet rose early and enjoyed tea and toast together. She had dressed in a gold tweed skirt and a rust-coloured wool coat with a matching felt hat. Although elderly, she cut an elegant figure and took pride in her appearance. James had opted for navy wool trousers, an Aran sweater and his trusty sheepskin jacket. After calling ahead to ensure the museum was open, Juliet put her hands together and beamed at him. ‘Can we take the Austin?’

  Like her sister before her, Juliet was a spritely lady who loved adventure and living life to the full. In ten minutes, they were speeding through the Sussex countryside.

  The regiment’s museum was a large, white structure with a colonnaded frontage. It stood at the end of the main road on the outskirts of Hove and was an imposing building among the surrounding smaller offices and shops. When they entered the building, a woman approached them. She was a buxom lady in her mid-seventies and dressed in a tweed two-piece costume. Even indoors, she wore a navy blue felt hat. Strands of grey hair curled under the rim. She strode toward them, blustering in a mannish way.

  ‘Ah, Lord Harrington, I presume. Is this your mother?’