‘Not just at this very moment, no. But it shouldn’t be too long before he does.’
‘If you don’t mind my saying so, Sergeant, he does seem to be interviewing us in rather a strange order.’
‘I’m afraid I couldn’t comment on that, miss,’ said Sergeant Lane, with a small grin. He looked around a moment to ensure that no one was about. He then proceeded to lean forward and speak more quietly so as not to be overheard. ‘I’ll say this though, miss. Inspector Deacon would have gone about things differently, so he would.’
I’m sure you’re right, Sergeant.’
‘And another thing, miss, although by rights I shouldn’t be telling you this,’ said Sergeant Lane speaking in a voice which was hardly above a whisper. ‘I’d stay away from that count fellow. Lady Lavinia would do well to do likewise. And you might want to tell his lordship to lock up all his jewels while that young man is here.’
‘Did you see that he went straight upstairs, Sergeant?’ asked Inspector Bramwell when the policeman returned to the study.
‘I did, sir,’ replied Sergeant Lane. ‘Our count fellow didn’t speak to anyone. He passed Miss Simpson on the landing, but ignored her rather pointedly. My guess would be, sir, that he’ll lie low in his room, so he will. Now that he knows that we’re on to him. If you don’t mind my asking, sir, how did you find out about him?’
‘I had my suspicions as soon as Lord Belvedere expressed his reservations about the man and described his theatrical appearance. So I made some enquiries when you were down with the servants.’
‘Oh?’
‘It seems there are various young men of attractive appearance, like our count, staying in expensive hotels on the Continent, and trying to pass themselves off as someone they’re not. More often than not they pander to the vanity of rich, middle-aged women with more money than sense. Our Count Fernand must have thought his luck was in when he met our Lady Lavinia and Miss Montacute.’
‘I suppose the usual etiquette and niceties regarding social introductions go by the wayside when you’re holidaying abroad, don’t you think, sir?’ The sergeant noted the puzzled frown on his superior’s face and hastened to explain. ‘What I mean to say, sir, is that I can’t imagine that it is a regular occurrence Lady Lavinia inviting people to stay at Sedgwick whom she knows so little about. Why, they’re almost strangers, aren’t they?’
‘Who knows what the aristocracy get up to,’ grunted the inspector. ‘And as to what people get up to on holiday abroad, I wouldn’t know. Mrs Bramwell and I, we always take our holidays in Eastbourne. A lovely little seaside town that, if you don’t know it, Sergeant.’
‘I can’t say I do, sir, although I’ve heard it has quite an impressive pier. But what about the diamonds, sir? Is that what the constable came in to tell you about?’
‘It was, Sergeant. The men made a search of the rooms when we first gathered everyone into the drawing room, and they couldn’t find Miss Montacute’s diamonds, that we’d heard so much about. Despite being local fellows, they had enough gumption about them to check with Lord Belvedere that the diamonds had not been placed in his personal safe for safekeeping like.’
‘And they hadn’t? So that’s when you wondered whether Count Fernand had stolen them, given the interest he’d shown in the diamonds?’
‘Yes. It was something of a wild shot, of course, to ask him outright like that.’
‘Well, I think it certainly hit home, sir. Did you see the look on his face when you asked if he was a jewel thief? He looked as if he’d seen a ghost.’
‘Yes, but there’s more to it than that, Sergeant. I already knew about the missing jewels. What the constable came hurrying in to tell me was that they’d found a jewel box hidden away on the landing.’
‘Was it Miss Montacute’s? Were the diamonds still inside it, sir?’ Sergeant Lane held his breath.
‘Yes, they were. That surprised you, didn’t it, Sergeant?’ said the inspector chuckling. ‘You thought I was going to say they were missing.’
‘Well, yes I did, sir.’
‘The lock had been forced, though.’
‘Oh, had it? And yet the diamonds were still there? That’s a bit of a rum do, isn’t it, sir? But perhaps the count panicked. He could have been afraid that we’d discover what he was up to. Decided to hide the diamonds at the first opportunity. Or at least remove them from his person or out of his room. Though the landing doesn’t seem much of a hiding place to me. He’d have done better to bury them in the grounds somewhere.’ The sergeant tapped the side of his head with his pencil. ‘I say, sir, I take it no fingerprints were found on the box? No, what am I thinking? Of course there wouldn’t have been. The count would never have been as stupid as all that.’
‘Now, that’s where you’re wrong,’ said the inspector with the air of a man who had left the best bit of his story to last. ‘As it happens we did find fingerprints on the box … but they weren’t the count’s.’
‘Weren’t they? Then who’s were they, sir?’
In reply the inspector did not say a name out loud but wrote it instead on a piece of paper and passed it to the policeman. He awaited with interest his subordinate’s reaction to the identity of the thief. He wasn’t disappointed and chuckled to himself.
‘Well, I never!’ exclaimed Sergeant Lane. ‘I say, sir, now that’s a surprise, isn’t it? Shall I go and ask the constable to get – ’
‘All in good time, Sergeant. There’s no rush. The thief doesn’t know that we’re on to them. And I’d like to establish first, if I can, whether the theft of the jewels has anything to do with the murder of Miss Montacute. That’s our primary concern, Sergeant. The issue of theft is secondary.’
‘But it must be connected, mustn’t it, sir? It’s too much of a coincidence for it not to be. What are the odds of both a murder and a theft having occurred here within a few hours of each other? And the jewels belonged to the victim, didn’t they? We oughtn’t to forget that.’
‘Even so, Sergeant,’ Inspector Bramwell said firmly. ‘I’d like our thief to be left wondering for a little while longer as to whether or not we’ve found the diamonds.’
‘Who would you like to interview next, sir?’ enquired the sergeant, trying to hide his disappointment.
‘I think it’s high time we interviewed your Miss Simpson, don’t you? Let’s see what she has to say for herself. And by the way, Sergeant … you never did tell me what she was doing upstairs. I thought I’d left instructions that no one was to leave the drawing room until they’d been interviewed.’
‘It appears, sir, Lady Lavinia had a bit of a turn. I suppose it all caught up with her, finding the body and all. She went up to her room for a lie down and Miss Simpson went with her to see she didn’t come to any harm on her way up the stairs.’ The sergeant saw that the inspector was regarding him cynically. ‘The constable assured me Miss Simpson came straight down again.’
‘Did he indeed? I very much doubt that she did.’ The inspector gave a snort. ‘That’s the trouble with these amateur sleuth types. Always trying to find ways to poke their noses in and interview people behind our backs. Well, let’s have her in, Sergeant.’
Chapter Twenty
‘Rose. Oh, there you are, darling. It’s seems simply ages since I last spoke to you. Are you all right? Where’s Lavinia?’
Cedric was by her side as soon as she entered the drawing room, closing out the world behind her. He grabbed her hand and pulled her towards him, and together they walked hand in hand over to the far end of the room.
‘Cedric. Oh thank goodness you’re here. I was afraid that it was just going to be the others. I’ve hardly seen anything of you all day. And when I have, you’ve been with Theo.’
‘I know. I’m worried about him, Rose. He’s hardly said a word since all this happened. I jolly well wish the inspector would hurry up and interview him. Although I have to say I’m rather afraid what Theo might say. Hello … they’ve opened the windows. Let’s go outside, shall we
?’
As soon as they stepped outside the cold hit them. It did not occur to either of them to go back for a hat and coat. Instead Rose snuggled up closely to Cedric, and he put an arm around her, drawing her to him protectively. She breathed in the fresh winter air. The murder seemed very far away as they stood in the feeble sunlight with eyes only for each other.
‘That’s better,’ said Cedric. ‘I suppose it wouldn’t do if I were to kiss you, would it? Not the thing at all at a time like this. But I do want to so badly, Rose.’ He sighed. ‘If only this damned murder business was all over and done with. It could be just you and me here and to hell with the rest of the world.’
‘Oh, Cedric ...’
Rose leaned back against him and felt his arm supporting her reassuringly. I don’t want this to end, she thought. I certainly don’t want to go back into that room. I want to stay in the gardens and forget about the murder and the fearful Inspector Bramwell. Aloud she said: ‘They’ll find us here, won’t they? When they want to come out and interview us, they’ll find us?’
‘Yes, they’re certain to. I expect they’re spying on us now from the windows.’ He paused. ‘Oh, dash it all, the others are coming out. Can’t they leave us alone for one minute?’
‘It’s only Jemima,’ said Rose, turning to see who had followed them out. ‘And she’s walking in the other direction. I think she wants to be alone as much as we do. Oh … that’s good, Theo and Vera appear to be staying inside.’
‘I’m not sure that it’s a good idea leaving them alone together,’ sighed Cedric. ‘But I’m tired of playing nanny, and they’ll have to work things out themselves one way or the other. Hello … what’s he doing out here?’
Cedric’s last remark was occasioned by the figure of Felix coming out of the French windows of the library and striding purposefully over towards Jemima.
‘Jemima, I must talk with you.’
The girl had turned with alarm at the sound of the approaching footsteps on the gravel.
‘You shouldn’t be here, Felix. The police haven’t interviewed me yet, and they are certain to see you from the window.’
‘Damn the police!’ said Felix, with feeling. ‘I had to speak to you.’
‘I wish you’d go away.’
She turned away from him, and he thought how very dejected she looked.
‘I wish everyone would go away and leave me alone.’
‘Even me?’
Felix held his breath, waiting for her answer.
Jemima heard the urgency and hurt in his voice.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said, more gently. ‘I just want to be by myself. I need to think. I need to think about what to do.’
‘That’s why I had to see you.’
He gently held the girl by her shoulders and turned her to face him. Jemima did not resist, although her natural inclination was to turn away.
‘I wanted to tell you it’s all right. Everything’s all right.’
‘What on earth do you mean by that?’ demanded Jemima. ‘How can everything possibly be all right? She’s dead. My friend is dead!’
Her voice had risen hysterically. Jemima looked across at the others, and caught Rose’s eye. The girl was looking at her quizzically, although Jemima felt certain that her words would not have carried given the distance between them. Even so she must try and compose herself and speak more quietly, she must …
‘Shh!’ Felix too was looking around anxiously. ‘Listen to me, Jemima. It’s awful, I know. A frightful tragedy and all that, but you have to be strong. What I meant before, when I said everything was all right, is that the police don’t suspect you. They don’t think you killed her.’
‘Think I killed her?’ Jemima’s eyes had gone very wide. ‘What do you mean? Why ever should they think that I killed Emmeline?’
‘Because you had a motive. But I didn’t tell them about it, Jemima, I promise I didn’t.’
‘What motive, Felix? What possible motive could I have had for wishing Emmeline dead?’
‘Shh! I said keep your voice down. Do you want everyone to hear? As to motive, well, money of course, my dear. You said so yourself when we were in the garden yesterday. Don’t you remember? It seems so long ago after everything that’s happened, but we were saying how awful it was going to be for us having to be apart until I made enough money to keep us.’ He held her by the shoulders. ‘Don’t you remember? You asked me what if you were able to get hold of some money.’
‘I don’t understand what you’re saying, Felix. Are you saying I killed Emmeline for her money?’ Jemima looked horrified.
‘How else would you get hold of any money, Jemima? We both know you’re as poor as a church mouse. I didn’t understand what you meant at the time, but I do now. Jemima will have left a will, won’t she? I’m sure she’s left you something in it, hasn’t she?’
‘Yes, as it happens, Felix, she’s left me a great deal of money.’ Her voice sounded devoid of all emotion.
‘There you are. I don’t say I blame you. Emmeline treated you awfully.’
‘Did she? I can’t say that I noticed. She was my best friend.’ Her voice fell to little more than a whisper. ‘My only friend.’
She had withdrawn from him now, determined to put some distance between them.
‘Nonsense. What am I to you, then?’ retorted Felix, pulling her to him. ‘I love you Jemima, you know I do. I would have waited for you, you know I would have done. But what’s happened has happened. It’s no use crying over spilt milk.’
‘How can you be so heartless?’ cried Jemima, fighting back her tears. ‘Losing Emmeline is bad enough, but to have you talking as if it doesn’t matter, as if we will profit by her death, it’s too frightful. I can’t bear it, I tell you. I can’t bear it.’
‘Shh! Do you want everyone to hear? What is wrong with you, Jemima? I mind terribly that Emmeline’s dead, of course I do. But there is nothing we can do about it now. I wanted to see you to say that I will stand by you. I won’t say anything to the police, I promise I won’t. But you’ve got to pull yourself together.’
‘I don’t understand. If you love me half as much as you say you do, how can you be so willing to believe I killed Emmeline?’ Jemima said, trying very hard not to cry.
‘Because it’s the only thing that makes any sense. I don’t want to believe it of you. It goes without saying I don’t want to.’
There was a pause as Felix passed a hand through his hair looking miserable and confused.
‘I say, Jemima,’ he said suddenly, holding her away from him and searching her face for some sign or other. ‘Are you really telling me that you didn’t do it? Please tell me the truth, not just what you think I want to hear.’
‘Of course I didn’t do it.’ Jemima had all but pushed him away from her. A moment later she was clutching at his arm so hard that her nails dug into his flesh and he almost winced with the pain.
‘It’s funny isn’t it? You see, Felix, all this time I’ve been wondering whether you did it. I’ve been wondering whether it wasn’t you who killed Emmeline.’
‘Theo. Theo. Didn’t you hear me?’
As soon as Jemima had left the drawing room on the heels of Cedric and Rose, Vera had run over to Theo, a look of consternation on her plain face. It was her first opportunity to be alone with him since the search party had returned with its woeful tidings. Up to now the others had thwarted any attempt made by her to speak to him. Although she acknowledged that their efforts had been well-meaning, done with the best of intentions, it was a relief to know that she could now accomplish what she had been longing to do all day. She could approach the doctor and talk to him without fear of being intercepted or disturbed.
But now that she found herself standing right in front of the man she might as well have been invisible for all the notice that he gave her. He was staring beyond her into the fire, the light from the flames flickering on his face so that his features alternated from being spectacularly lit up to being half hidden
and obscured by shadow. The effect was rather grotesque when coupled with the first signs of dusk, which was fast approaching, and which accentuated in stark contrast the artificial brightness of the room.
Involuntarily Vera shuddered and turned to look out of the window. Her eye was drawn to the other couples, particularly to Cedric and Rose, and she wished that they were Theo and herself, strolling as they often had through the grounds of Sedgwick Court in a companionable silence. Although, in their case, she noticed that Cedric and Rose appeared to be talking nineteen to the dozen, stopping every now and then to touch or discreetly embrace. It occurred to her that she and Theo had never behaved like that, even in the early days of their courtship. And then all at once, unbidden, she saw again the image that had so haunted her during the night. Theo and Emmeline laughing and embracing in the gardens. What had hurt her most, she realised now, was that she had never seen Theo look so happy or appear so young.
Vera bit her lip and stifled a sob. She mustn’t let herself dwell on that awful image or what awful act it had compelled her to do. It didn’t do any good to look back on the past and consider how one might have behaved differently. One could not undo what had been done. But it was easier said than accomplished. Now though, she must look to the future and try her utmost to restore things to the way they had been before Emmeline had come in their midst and caused such destruction. She must be strong for both of them, Theo and herself. But it was almost too much to bear, to stand in front of the man she loved so desperately, while all the time having him ignore her. Even worse than that, she thought he was not even conscious of her presence.
The next time his features were lit up by the flames she scrutinised his face closely, and noticed lines around his eyes that had not been there before. His skin, despite the yellow glow cast by the fire, looked grey and taut. She felt his deep unhappiness as if it were her own. Indeed it mirrored the misery she felt at the collapse and ruin of their relationship. Despite their shared feelings of desolation, she was aware of the gulf between them and wondered whether it could ever be bridged.
03 - Murder at Sedgwick Court Page 19