by Rhys Bowen
“I must say, I am a teeny bit peckish, even though in the circumstances it is not quite seemly,” Princess Charlotte said, getting to her feet with difficulty from the low armchair. Her sister took her arm while Irene clung to her mother. The three Starlings waited until the family had disappeared.
“We really think that we should pack our little bags and fly,” Adrian said. “We clearly are not wanted here—in fact, the old harpy will do a dance for joy when she sees the backs of us.”
“And we shouldn’t intrude on a family in mourning, should we, Jules?” Simon said. “It simply isn’t done.” And he mimicked the dowager duchess’s voice to a T.
“I’m afraid we’re all stuck here, whether we like it or not,” I said. “At least until they determine that we couldn’t have killed Cedric.”
“One of us, kill poor Ceddy?” Adrian demanded. “Duckie, there is no way I could have plunged the whopping-great knife into anyone’s back. I faint at the sight of blood.”
“I don’t see how anyone is going to be able to determine who killed Ceddy,” Simon said. “I mean, a house this size . . . It would be so easy to slip in and out without being seen. Especially early in the morning, and on a day like this. When it’s pouring rain, one doesn’t even want to look out of the window.”
“But there’s only one main entrance, isn’t there?” Belinda asked. She had been sitting at the back of the group by the window, remarkably silent for a while, and still had that petulant look on her face of someone thwarted. “Unless one braves the servants’ quarters.”
“There are French doors all the way down one side of the ballroom,” I said. “And I believe I saw French doors in other rooms too.”
Belinda sighed. “This is too, too tiresome. Let’s hope they arrest the wretched Australian and have done with it, so I can escape back to London.”
“Belinda—a few minutes ago, you were all set to marry him!” I exclaimed.
“That was before I knew that he had a violent temper and threw knives at people.”
“Well, I don’t think that he did it,” I said. “I mean, if you were going to kill someone, would you leave your knife sticking out of his back for everyone to identify? Would you leave the body across a footpath, where it would be easily found? Jack’s pretty strong. He could have dragged the body off into the shrubbery somewhere and we wouldn’t have found it for days, by which time he could have worked out a perfect alibi.”
“I’m going to have to keep an eye on you,” Darcy said, raising an eyebrow. “You’re becoming remarkably devious.”
“Well, I’m hungry,” Belinda said. “I believe luncheon was mentioned. Can someone please show me the way to the dining room?”
“And we’d better make the most of the last good meals we’ll get in a while,” Adrian said. “It will soon be back to baked beans on toast, won’t it, boys?”
“I suppose it’s too much to hope that Ceddy might have left us something in his will?” Julian said.
“I might have hoped until yesterday,” Adrian said. “But now that nasty little minx Marcel has turned out to be his favorite all along, I think it’s highly unlikely. Besides, you heard what they’ve said. All the money is tied up in the estate and it all goes to young Jack.”
“Maybe we should start being nicer to him,” Simon said with a grin. “He’ll need friends in his hour of trial.”
“He will,” Julian agreed. “We should go and find him and let him know that we are behind him all the way.”
For some reason, I heard Darcy chuckle.
“You three should not be called the Starlings, but the Vultures,” I said and they laughed too.
“Starving artists and performers like us have to do what it takes to survive, duckie,” Adrian said. “We thought we’d fallen on our feet here with Ceddy. I mean, a real patron of the arts who was going to build his own theater and let us write plays, act, design sets . . . it was a dream come true. Too bad of him to get himself killed.” He brushed a speck from his black trousers. “Come along, boys. Let’s go and find poor Jack and take him some food. He’ll need to keep his strength up.”
They left the room together. Belinda got up, stretched like a cat and followed them
I looked at Darcy. “Shall we?” He offered me his arm.
“Do you think we could slip away for a bit?” I asked.
He looked amused. “What have you in mind?”
“Nothing like that. I’d really like you to take a look at the crime scene for yourself,” I said. “There was something seriously wrong that the inspector didn’t seem to notice.”
“But you don’t know what it was?”
“It might come to me if I could have time to visit the place again with you.”
“Chief Inspector Fairbotham did say that we were free to go about our business, didn’t he? And that should include taking a stroll in the grounds. Although I’m not sure I like the way you’re so eager to be involved in yet another crime investigation.”
“Darcy, you spent several weeks on a ship with Jack. Do you think he’s capable of such a murder?”
“Capable? Absolutely. But as to whether he actually did it—I agree with you. He’s not at all stupid. He’d never leave his knife sticking out of someone’s back. Come on, then. Let’s slip outside while nobody is looking.”
I glanced around the room, and started in surprise when I saw that Sissy was still sitting on the far side of the fireplace. I hurried over to her. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t notice you were still there. Everyone has neglected you.”
“It’s all right. I’m used to it by now,” she said, attempting a brave, little smile. “Once one is a cripple, one becomes invisible. People talk over my head as if I’m not there.”
“Can I push your chair into the dining room for you?” Darcy asked.
“That would be lovely.” She gave him a sweet smile. “I rarely have the chance to eat with the rest of the family because it’s too much trouble to have me carried downstairs.”
“Now that your cousin is here, I’m sure he’ll oblige,” I said, and watched her blush.
Then she reached out and touched my sleeve. “Georgie, he can’t have done it, can he? Jack simply couldn’t have killed Uncle Cedric.”
“I hope not,” I said, “but I’ve been involved in murders before, and it’s not always easy to spot a murderer. Even the nicest people kill if they are pushed far enough, and we do know that Jack has a quick temper.”
“But he was up in my room by eight thirty at the latest, and he didn’t seem at all worried. Surely someone who has just committed murder minutes before couldn’t sit and chat normally without giving something away.”
“You wouldn’t think so, would you?” I said.
Darcy had maneuvered the chair away from its niche and started to push it down the room toward the foyer.
“So you really didn’t see Jack outside this morning, or were you lying to try to spare him?” I asked as I fell into step beside her.
“I really didn’t.” She looked up at me earnestly, shaking her head.
“I suppose it was too early for you to be sitting at your window.”
“Maybe. And I might also have missed him. Nanny came in to help me dress about seven thirty as usual, and then there was a short time while I was sitting alone until my breakfast was brought up to me by Elsie at eight. I know it was eight because I’ve a little clock on my mantel, and it has a pretty chime. Papa bought it for me when we lived in Paris.” A wistful look came over her face.
“And you didn’t see your uncle Cedric at all, either before your breakfast arrived or when you were eating?”
“I didn’t. If he went out about eight, as they said, then I was probably concentrating on eating my breakfast while it was still hot.”
“Did you see anybody else at all?” Darcy asked
She looked up
at him warily, the rather dashing and dangerous-looking stranger she didn’t know. “The only person I saw was that man who came up to the house the other day and shouted at the butler—remember, Georgie?”
Darcy stopped pushing. I spun to face her.
“You saw the young man who had previously come up to the house ranting and raving, and you didn’t mention it to the inspector?”
She chewed on her lip, her eyes darting from Darcy’s face to mine. “I meant to. There never seemed a right moment, what with everyone talking and shouting. And I didn’t think he’d believe me, after what I’d told him about Jack, and anyway it probably wasn’t important because it was too early. I’d just finished dressing when he came running up the hill probably about twenty to eight. He looked as if he was out of breath and had been running hard. When he got close to the house he stopped, looked up at it, stood staring for a while, then he turned around and walked away again. Extraordinary, wasn’t it? But at that time Uncle Cedric wouldn’t even have left the house.”
“And did he go back down the hill by way of the glen?” Darcy asked.
“No, he set off down the driveway, toward the main gate.”
“You must report this to the policeman right away,” I said.
“Oh, golly, do I have to?” She chewed on her lip again. “He’ll cross-question me and make me flustered. And surely it isn’t even relevant—because I told you, it was too early.”
“Don’t you see he could have set off for the main gate then changed his mind and cut across the grounds lower down, out of sight of the house, then doubled back to wait for Cedric in the glen?”
“Why would he do that?”
“Because he was William, the footman whom Cedric had sacked only recently for moving the papers on his desk.”
“That’s awful,” she said. “Unfair.”
“I wonder if there wasn’t more behind that,” Darcy said. “Either he wanted an excuse to get rid of this man, or there was something among those papers that Cedric didn’t want anybody to see.”
“Oh,” I said. “I never thought of that. So maybe there is a motive for his murder that might be quite unconnected to the people in this house. He might have been involved in something underhanded—blackmail or something.”
Darcy nodded.
“There’s something else,” I said. “William was angry because his parents live in one of the cottages that Cedric was planning to tear down to make room for his theater project. That would give him an awfully good double motive, wouldn’t it?” I looked at them, quite excited now. “What if he came to confront Cedric, and as he approached the front door he heard Cedric saying he was going down to post a letter? So this man decides to cut around and confront Cedric in the glen instead—out of sight of the house.”
“But how did he get Jack’s knife? How would he even have known about it?” Sissy asked.
“Ah,” I said. “Perhaps he’d been in the tack room before.” I put my hand on her shoulder. “Look, Sissy, this evidence might just clear Jack—and that’s what you want, isn’t it?”
She nodded.
“Then let’s go straight to Cedric’s study and tell the chief inspector.”
Chapter 26
Chief Inspector Fairbotham listened carefully to Sissy and then to me.
“You don’t say,” he said, then sucked through his teeth. “I suppose this is all true, not made up to shift our focus from the young Australian gentleman?”
“It’s true,” Sissy said. “I did see him, but unfortunately it was too early to have encountered the duke if he really left the house around eight.”
“Unless this man then cut across the estate lower down and waited for the duke to come through the glen,” I pointed out.
The inspector nodded. “And he does have a compelling motive as you say—first the duke sacks him and then wants to throw his folks out of their cottage. Any idea of his name?”
“William, I believe,” I said. “The servants here will know. Also where he might be found. At least you can go to his parents’ house. They’ll know.”
“I’m going to wait until we’ve found out whose prints are on that knife,” he said. “And do what the young chap says and take a good look at footprints in the glen. Thank you. You’ve been most helpful. And if you see anything else interesting from your window, young lady . . .”
“I’ll tell you straight away,” Sissy said. Her cheeks were very pink, but she looked more excited than embarrassed.
We wheeled her in to luncheon. Edwina and the others were already at the table. Jack was nowhere to be seen.
“Ah, there you are,” Edwina said. “We wondered where you had got to. And Elisabeth, dear. How nice to see you for a change. Do join us. Frederick, move away one of the chairs to make room for Miss Elisabeth.”
We pushed Sissy into place, and took seats lower down the table.
“I must apologize for the schoolroom nature of the meal,” Edwina said. “Poor Cook was quite flustered about not having enough time, so I reassured her that we’d make do.”
“Making do” apparently consisted of a large meat pie, cauliflower, cheese and mashed potatoes. Compared with my usual fare it was a feast, and I helped myself generously.
“You didn’t encounter John—I mean, Jack—in your travels, did you?” Edwina asked. “I’m concerned about him. I hope he won’t do anything foolish like try to run away. He wasn’t brought up to duty and honor as we were.”
“I’m afraid we haven’t seen him,” I said.
Edwina summoned Frederick to her side. “Go and ask Mr. Huxstep to look for His Grace and cordially invite him to join us at luncheon,” she said.
We ate in near silence then Huxstep himself came into the dining room. “Your Grace, I’m afraid the young duke is nowhere to be found. And his overcoat is missing.”
“Oh, no.” Edwina put her hand to her throat. “What shall we do?”
“Georgiana and I will go in search of him, if you wish,” Darcy said. “I have a motor. If he’s trying to catch a train, we may be in time to intercept him.”
“I’d be most grateful, Mr. O’Mara. He may listen to you.”
Darcy nodded to me, and we got up from the table. Darcy’s sports car was housed in one of the stables. As soon as we drove it out, I saw why Belinda had complained. Spatters of rain came in through the leaky rag top.
“Not the most pleasant ride, I’m afraid,” Darcy said. “God, I hope we catch him before Fairbotham realizes he’s missing. Doesn’t Jack realize how bad this will look for him?”
“We have to consider that he may have done it, however much we want him to be innocent,” I said.
We drove down the driveway, peering to left and right through the rain-spattered windscreen. When we reached the road, Darcy turned away from the village. “Railway station first,” he said, and followed the railway line until we came to a station. Both platforms were deserted, and we were told that there hadn’t been a train for a half hour.
“He probably couldn’t have got to the station in time for that train,” I said. “I wonder if buses go from the village.”
“Knowing Jack, he might have thumbed for a lift,” Darcy said. He turned the motorcar around and drove into the village. The streets also had a deserted air to them, and we realized it was early closing day with the shops all shut for the afternoon. We drove for a mile or so out toward Farningham and then up toward Crockenhill, but passed nobody along the way. Reluctantly, we retraced our steps for Kingsdowne.
As we pulled up in the forecourt and got out of the car, we saw a figure coming up from the lake toward us, and recognized Jack himself.
“Where have you been?” Darcy called. “We’ve been looking for you. The dowager duchess was worried you’d done a bunk.”
Jack grinned. “I couldn’t take it any longer. I nipped down to the pub in the village f
or a couple of schooners.”
“Schooners?” I asked.
“Australian glass of beer,” Darcy said. “They don’t call them pints.”
“Too right,” Jack said. “I needed to be somewhere normal, y’know. Nice little pub they’ve got down there. The barman asked me if I was the new hired hand at Drake’s farm. Funny, eh? I didn’t like to say I was a ruddy duke.”
“It’s not funny, Jack,” I said. “You would have been in big trouble if the inspector had discovered you’d gone. He’d think that was proving your guilt.”
Jack nodded. “Oh, struth. I suppose you’re right. Didn’t think about that. Just knew I had to get away or go ’round the bend. It’s all too much for me to handle.”
Darcy put a friendly hand on his shoulder. “Come on, my lad. Let’s get you inside before anyone notices. And don’t worry. This is England—finest police force in the world. It will soon be sorted out, I promise.”
As Jack went up the steps to the house ahead of us, Darcy looked at me and made a face. His expression said clearly “I wish I could believe that.”
We were about to go inside when I took Darcy’s hand. “Come on, this is a good time for me to show you the crime scene,” I said. “I don’t see any policemen around.”
“I don’t know what you expect to show me,” Darcy said, but he allowed himself to be towed along like a liner being pulled by a tugboat. “They will have taken the body away, and their boots will have messed up any evidence.”
As we came close to the lake, a patch of blue sky appeared overhead. A few minutes later, the sun came out and the lake turned from iron gray to blue, with white swans reflected in its now-calm surface. Then whole scene turned from dreary to sparkling. Darcy’s hand was warm and reassuring in mine, and it suddenly felt as if all would be right with the world after all. It’s amazing how little I actually needed to make me happy.
We left the lake and followed the muddy footpath down the hill. Numerous footprints of big boots indicated that policemen had been and gone again. At last we came into the glen, which looked quite charming in the new sunlight. The stream had receded again, and flowed merrily over its rocks. It was hardly possible to make out where the body had lain.