by Rhys Bowen
“As if the servants would know anything useful,” Edwina said. “What does he think we do—hire a pack of ex-convicts to work in the house? Almost all of them have been with us for years, and their parents before them. Until recently, it was considered a great honor to serve the Dukes of Eynsford. Alas, the Great War turned the world all topsy-turvy, and too many young people now believe that domestic service is beneath them. Though why they should think a noisy office or a dirty factory is preferable, I don’t know.”
I watched her talking, noticing how she seemed to be the only one who wanted to chat. Was it to hide her nerves? I wondered. To stop herself from thinking about her dead son? To give the appearance that nothing was wrong and life would go on smoothly at Kingsdowne?
One by one, the inhabitants of the house went to the library and returned. I could read relief in each of their faces, especially in those of the three Starlings.
“He wasn’t brutal at all,” Justin said as he joined Adrian and Simon. “Quite pleasant, actually. Asked if anyone had a grudge against Cedric and I said all sorts of people.”
“Justin, you didn’t!” A yelp of horror from Adrian.
“Well, it was true, wasn’t it? I told him that Cedric wasn’t the easiest person to get along with and probably put everyone’s back up at the theater when they were rehearsing for that new play. Just because he was backing it, he thought it gave him carte blanche to change everything—and of course he knows nothing about the theater, really. I mean, knew. He knew nothing. I still can’t believe that he’s gone.”
“Do you think that someone from the theater would come all the way down here to kill Cedric then?” I asked.
“Don’t be silly. People in the theater learn to cope with difficult types all the time. Temperamental leading ladies, harsh critics, crabby wardrobe mistresses . . . but they don’t go around killing each other. They get out their frustrations on stage. If only Cedric . . .”
He broke off as heavy footsteps could be heard in the hall, and the chief inspector appeared. “Ah, there you are,” he said. “Everyone here? Good, because I’ve a couple of questions to put to all of you.”
He stood in front of the fire, facing us. “Now then. According to your statements, nobody saw anything unusual this morning. Nobody even saw the duke get up or go out. Nobody knows any reason why someone would want to murder the duke. In fact, you are all a big, happy family with not a care in the world.” He paused and looked from one face to the next. “Right, let’s take another approach, shall we?” He glanced across at the entrance to the Long Gallery, and beckoned. A police constable came toward us, carrying something wrapped in a cloth. The inspector took it carefully and unwrapped it.
“Now look carefully. Have any of you seen this object before?” he asked, and held it out to us. I heard a gasp from some people and Nicholas called out excitedly, “I’ve seen it before. It’s cousin Jack’s knife.”
Chapter 23
“Cousin Jack’s knife?” The chief inspector stared hard at Jack. “I take it he means you, young man?”
“It’s my knife, right enough,” Jack said. “The duchess—I mean, my grandmother—made me go and put it in the tack room. She said she didn’t want it in the house, and she was cross with me for showing the nippers how I could throw it.”
“He threw it into the tree above my head,” Kat said.
“It was brilliant,” Nick added. “Just like William Tell.”
“I see.” The inspector paused. “So when did you see this knife last, sir?”
“When my grandmother told me to put it in the tack room—several days ago now.”
“Did anyone else know the knife was going to be left in this tack room?” He pronounced the words as if they were both unfamiliar and amusing to him.
“I believe we were all out on the lawn when the incident occurred,” Edwina said. “So I suspect that everyone overheard my telling John where he was to put his knife for safekeeping.”
“And is this tack room left unlocked?”
“Of course,” Edwina said. “The grooms come in and out all the time to saddle up the horses. Really, Chief Inspector—we live on a big estate, cocooned from the rest of the world. We don’t need to keep things locked. We have servants looking after us and our property. The grooms actually sleep above the stables.”
“So in theory anyone could have crept into this tack room, removed the knife, followed the duke and killed him with it.”
“In theory,” Edwina replied. “Although I think you’ll find from our statements that nobody else was up and awake at that time.”
“Except us,” Nick said, and received a warning frown from his grandmother.
“Children should be seen and not heard, Nicholas. And we already know that you were safely in the nursery, where you belong.”
The log on the fire crackled and shifted, making everyone jump. The tension in the room was palpable. I found that I was holding my breath.
Chief Inspector Fairbotham paused before focusing on Jack again. “So remind me again, sir, what you were doing between seven and eight this morning?”
“I can answer that for him,” Sissy said quickly, before Jack could speak. “He was with me the whole time.”
“With you, little lady?” The inspector turned to look at the slight girl in her bath chair. She was sitting off to one side of the group, and had been ignored until now, a rug over her knees.
“That’s right.” Sissy tossed her head defiantly. “I’ve been helping Jack with his schoolwork. He hardly had any schooling, you know. And he didn’t want to look stupid, now that he’s the heir to a dukedom. So I was giving him extra reading practice.”
“Young lady, do you realize that perjury is a serious offense? You understand what perjury is, do you?”
Sissy shook her head.
“It is deliberately lying before a court of law, and it is punishable by a term in prison. Is that what you want? Or would you like to change your statement?”
Sissy’s face had turned very red but she said nothing.
“Listen, I was with Sissy early this morning but she didn’t know that I’d been out for a walk before that,” Jack said. He turned and gave his cousin a reassuring grin. “I already told you, Inspector, that I went out early, walked around a bit, went over to the stables and then came back inside because it was about to rain. Then I grabbed a quick breakfast and went up to see if Sissy was awake, as we’d agreed to do some more reading practice.”
“So you admit that you were at the stables, at the very place where the knife was stored in the unlocked tack room, early this morning?”
“Yes, but I didn’t go into the tack room. I went to see the horses. I feel comfortable around horses.”
“But you saw nobody and nobody saw you?”
“That’s right. It was early,” Jack said. “At least, early for a place like this. Back at home, we’d have had our tucker and been out with the sheep hours before that.”
He didn’t look nervous or uncomfortable, I noticed.
“So you never saw your uncle, the duke, at all?”
“I already told you that I hadn’t. I didn’t see a living soul. I let myself out of the front door. I walked around by the lake. I visited the horses, and it was about to rain so I came back inside. That’s the lot.”
“You came over here how long ago?”
“What is it—two weeks now?” Jack still seemed calm and unconcerned, as if he didn’t sense approaching danger.
“If I understand it correctly, you were brought over here as the heir to this estate,” Chief Inspector Fairbotham went on. “Rather a cushy job after being up at crack of dawn and riding around after sheep, wouldn’t you say?”
“Cushy, yes, but not one I would have chosen for myself,” Jack answered. “I’ve never wanted to be a bloody duke.”
There was an intake of bre
ath from Edwina. Princess Charlotte fanned herself. The twins tittered.
“Watch your language, boy,” the inspector said. “You’re not in the outback now. We don’t swear among ladies over here.”
“Sorry,” Jack muttered. “Look, I don’t know what you’re getting at.”
“What I’m getting at is that you suddenly appear out of the blue, from the wilds of Australia, and claim you’re the heir to this estate. Funnily enough, the family accepts you as the rightful heir with no fuss at all. And then, lo and behold, a few days later the duke dies with your knife in his back. Now, I may not be the brightest man in the world, but I’d say that looks pretty suspicious to me, wouldn’t you?”
“You can say what you like, Inspector,” Jack replied, staring at the detective defiantly. “But I’m telling you that I didn’t kill the duke.”
“And yet, according to what I’ve been told, you and the duke had a run-in only last night. He insulted your mother, didn’t he? And you jumped up and challenged him to a fight.”
“Yes, I did,” Jack agreed.
“But that fight never took place?”
“No.” Jack shook his head. “When I’d cooled down, I saw that he was a poor specimen and I’d knock the stuffing out of him. Besides, he wouldn’t agree to fight with me. He got into another argument with someone else and forgot about our little tiff.”
“And what was that argument about?” Chief Inspector Fairbotham asked.
Edwina looked around the group. Nobody spoke. “I don’t remember,” she said. “Something inconsequential, I’m sure. Cedric was a confrontational sort of person who enjoyed making inflammatory statements just to get a rise out of people.”
“I will tell you what it was about,” said a voice from the far doorway, and there stood Irene, looking terribly pale but fully dressed, with a shawl around her shoulders.
“Irene, what on earth are you doing out of your bed?” Edwina went over to her. “Go back immediately. You nearly died, you silly girl.”
“I’m not a girl, Mother,” Irene said calmly. “I’m a woman with children, and I’m quite all right. I’ve just heard what happened to Cedric, and I expect to do my part to find his killer.” She walked slightly unsteadily across the room. Darcy went to help her to a seat. Katherine and Nick looked up nervously at her pale appearance and Kat crawled over to sit at her feet.
“Those children should be back in the nursery,” Edwina said. “This conversation is highly unsuitable for young ears.”
“But the inspector might want to ask us questions,” Kat said, looking at her brother. “And we want to stay with Mummy.” She rested her head on her mother’s knee and Irene stroked her hair.
“Presumably you are Lady Irene?” Chief Inspector Fairbotham said.
“I am the Countess Streletzki, and wish to be addressed as such,” she said, her expression not wavering. “My mother refuses to acknowledge the fact that I am still married to the count, as no divorce has taken place.”
“Very well, Countess.” He gave something resembling a little bow. “I am Detective Chief Inspector Fairbotham of the Royal Kent Constabulary. Thank you for leaving your sickbed. Very brave of you.”
“Enough of the compliments, Chief Inspector. Let’s get on with it, shall we?”
The chief inspector cleared his throat. “Let’s start with what happened to you. I understand that there might have been two attempts at murder in this family. That somebody wanted to kill you as well as your brother. You somehow took—or were given—an overdose of sleeping powders last night and the doctor had to be called to pump your stomach. Correct?”
“That is correct.”
“Was this overdose an accident, in your opinion? Was it possible that you took more than one of these powders?”
She continued to eye him coldly. “Certainly not,” she said. “After the fracas at dinner last night, I was extremely upset. I realized that one of my migraines was coming on. Unfortunately, I have always suffered from terribly debilitating migraines as my mother can tell you. The only way to stop them is to knock myself out for long enough with a good, deep sleep. My doctor in Harley Street had prescribed a strong sleeping powder for this purpose. So I took one of the powders last night and told my maid not to wake me in the morning. The next thing I knew, I was awakened to the most unpleasant . . . there was a tube down my throat, Inspector. Most humiliating.”
“So as far as you know, you took the correct dose.”
“Absolutely.”
“But it’s possible that someone might have administered a second dose to you while you were so groggy that you didn’t remember?”
“I can’t speculate on what might have happened while I was in a sound sleep. As I said, the powders were designed to knock me out. I fell asleep after taking one dose. I awoke to find a stomach pump being administered. If I didn’t remember anything more, how can I tell you about it?”
I looked at her with admiration. She had nearly lost her life but her voice was strong and clear and she appeared to be ready for a good fight.
Chief Inspector Fairbotham cleared his throat. “Maybe when this joint interview is over you can take me to your boudoir and we can count the number of packets of sleeping medicine still remaining. And you might be able to tell me whether one is missing, and we can surmise that someone had attempted to administer an overdose.”
“Who on earth would have done that?” she snapped. “The only people in the house are the ones you see here. I am penniless and homeless, Inspector. I am heir to no fortune. I pose no threat to any of them.”
“Someone in your situation might well be feeling hopeless and depressed, Countess,” the inspector said cautiously.
“If you are suggesting that I attempted to take my own life, Inspector, then let me tell you that my children mean everything to me. I am a mother lioness. I would fight to the death to protect my children, and I would never abandon them. Also, I am from a very old and distinguished family. I was raised to do my duty. I hope I make myself clear.”
There was silence in the room, apart from the gentle patter of rain on the windows.
The chief inspector cleared his throat again. “This little tiff at the table last night—the one you wanted to tell me about, Countess. Perhaps you’d like to recount it to me.”
“It was just my brother being silly and vindictive,” she said. “He liked to put people’s backs up. He was always like that, even as a small boy. He’d do something naughty to be the center of attention. He’d give Mama a fright then he’d laugh.”
“And what naughty thing did he do last night?”
Irene was still staring straight at the inspector, her head held high and her back rigid. “He announced that he was not satisfied with the newly arrived heir from Australia and was taking matters into his own hands. He looked at my mother and said she’d always told him he had to produce an heir, and now he was going to. He planned to adopt his choice of heir. Then he went on to say that it was his French valet, Marcel. Naturally, this caused a complete uproar. My mother said that she would do anything in her power to stop him. I threatened to go up to the House of Lords and ask advice from Daddy’s old friends.”
“You also wanted to stop him then, Countess?”
“Of course I did. I have great family pride, Inspector. How could I stand by idly while my brother disgraced our whole family by adopting a French valet? It was unthinkable.”
“If your brother had succeeded in adopting this French valet, it would have presumably cut you and your children out of any inheritance too?”
Irene gave a dry, cold laugh. “Obviously you know little about inheritance laws, Chief Inspector. This estate is entailed. That means that the title and property goes from eldest son to eldest son. And failing that, to the oldest male relative of the line. The rest of us inherit nothing. And since my brother did not think it was his job to spe
nd any family money on me or my children, then I could hardly have been worse off with a new duke who was an ex-valet. In fact, he would probably have been a good deal more sympathetic to my current condition.”
The chief inspector suddenly swung around to face Jack. “So it seems, young man, that the only person with a strong motive for getting your uncle out of the way in a hurry would be you—the very person who admits to wandering in the grounds early this morning. The very person whose knife was found sticking out of your uncle’s back.”
“That’s a load of old cod’s wallop,” Jack said. “I told you, I never wanted to be a duke in the first place. I wasn’t the one who contacted the family. They came looking for me. I’d have been quite happy to stay working with sheep all my life. At least I knew who I was there. At least I knew who I could trust.”
“I’ll need to have my men take your fingerprints, sir,” the inspector said. “In fact, I’ll need fingerprints from everyone in this room.”
“Outrageous,” the dowager duchess said. “Do we look like the sort of people who go around sticking knives into people? My sisters and I are elderly ladies. Even if we were murderously inclined, I hardly think that we possess that kind of strength.”
“A matter of formality, Your Grace,” Fairbotham said. “This young man has told me that you took the knife from him and then made him put it in the tack room. So one might expect to find your fingerprints on the knife handle. And if this blade is as sharp as I think it is, then it would not take a great deal of strength to stab someone—especially if you were lucky enough to penetrate between the ribs.”
“Goodness me.” Princess Charlotte fanned herself again. “In my young days, one did not discuss this sort of thing, especially the mention of body parts in front of ladies.”
“I take it you’d like to find out who murdered your nephew, Princess,” the inspector said.
“Of course I would, but surely it can’t be anyone here.”
“I agree with my sister,” Edwina said. “You should be out asking questions of the estate workers and in the village, and if you’re looking for things like fingerprints, then are you being equally diligent about finding telltale footprints?”