He struck the match, waved it in the air to extinguish it, and threw it on the ground. ‘Possibly. Possibly. Shall we move on inside? It’s getting quite dark.’
IV
Miss Lavender found Simon and Edie in the billiards room next morning. She was struck as she entered, and seeing them in bright sunshine, how very attractive they were. Almost twins in looks. She knew little of their mother, Prudence. Certainly there had been several cocktail parties, and a couple of suppers. But it was Mildred who had initially been Miss Lavender’s friend. They had been at school together.
The brother and sister seemed vulnerable, she thought. They were at a time in life when they should be looking to move on. Leaving home. With bright prospects. Not bound up in any more death, let alone murder. They had a step sister, a mother who had died when they were only about twelve years old. It was good they had their aunt Fenella to lend a guiding hand.
‘I have to say, your aunt knows a thing or two about gardening. I wish she’d come and give me some advice with mine.’
‘Do you have a garden, then, Miss Lavender?’ Edie looked up from her copy of Vogue.
‘Of sorts. Nothing as big as this, of course. A cottage is what I have.’
‘So, no room for nasty things to happen at the bottom of the garden then?’ Simon continued to play, the loud clicking of the cue on the balls echoing the tick of the clock.
‘Tell me about it,’ said Miss Lavender. Simon’s brusqueness could be matched by her own.
He looked up quickly, his look a mixture of surprise and admiration. So, the old dote had some fibre in her.
‘Not much to tell actually,’ he said with a shrug.
‘Mother drank, didn’t you know?’ Edie, set the magazine aside, swung her legs over the window seat and sat up, leaning on her hands. ‘Putting up with the likes of Caro would make anyone hit the bottle.’
‘It must have been very hard for you. You can’t have been that old. So you think it was an accident?’
Edie shrugged. ‘Who the hell knows.’
‘It was extremely cold that night. She only had her nightie and dressing gown on. She slipped on the ice. Hit her head. Voila! Dead and gone.’
‘That’s what the police said.’
‘Case closed.’
‘And you. Were you at school?’
‘No. We were on hols. After Christmas.’
‘Tragic.’
‘Perhaps you should have come round then. To investigate,’ said Simon. ‘That is what you are doing now, isn’t it.’
‘Well, I wouldn’t put it quite like that.’
‘Anyway, we just had to get over it and move on, didn’t we,’ said Edie.
‘Was your sister Caroline here too? And your aunt?’
‘We could all have done it, if that’s what you mean.’
‘All in it together,’ said Edie with a sudden grin.
The clocks began chiming throughout the house. One after the other.
‘It is fortunate your aunt was living here. To look after you.’
‘I suppose so. She’s such a little dictator. Comes up with all sorts of ideas. You know she went crackers, I suppose?’
‘Simon, Miss Lavender doesn’t want to hear about that. Anyway, if it wasn’t for her you wouldn’t be getting that training in the vineyard.’
‘Oh, my goodness, now that does sound enterprising.’
‘Well, at least it would get me out of this hole. Six months at a chateau. They make their own wine. There might be an opening beyond that to go on the management side.’
For the first time a note of enthusiasm penetrated his assumed languor.
‘Now that does sound like something. It’s not many get that sort of opportunity. These French vineyards are family run, and pretty close knit, so I’ve heard.’
‘Yes, well. Aunt Fenella has connections in Europe. Was part of a pretty upmarket social set when she was at Heatherleys. Got a place suggested for Edie at her Swiss finishing school. That was after Father refused to let Edie go to RADA.’
‘RADA! You want to become an actress?’
Edie shrugged her shoulders again, and tossed the magazine down on a nearby table. ‘Wanted to. Pops wouldn’t allow me. Aided and abetted by Aunt Fenella of course.’
‘They didn’t think she was up to it,’ put in Simon.
‘What a shame, Edie,’ said Miss Lavender. ‘But the Finishing School - did you enjoy that?’
‘Actually, I did. Love to ski, of course. But being the artistic type myself, I enjoyed the painting and then there was the cookery and social things - so helpful when I marry a Lord!’
It was her turn to sound affected.
‘Social things?’
‘Conversation at table. How to write a letter. How to address people in the right way. That sort of thing.’
‘Mostly useless!’
‘Simon!’
‘Anyway. I am probably going off to flower arranging next. Constance Spry. Aunt Fenella’s organising it for me.’
‘Well, that should be fun.’
‘I say. You don’t have any idea how long this murder investigation is going to take, do you?’
‘Well that depends on how many leads the police have. How soon they can track down the murderer. You don’t have any ideas yourselves?’
Simon shrugged. ‘We were in the conservatory all the time, weren’t we Edie.’
‘Yes, that’s right. All the time. We had tea. It was that time in the afternoon. Caro was here. And Pops.’
‘And I understand that Mr Shapley did not come through to join you for tea.’
‘I think he had his in the library. Had to get on with his work. I don’t even know if he had tea,’ said Edie.
‘But you found him, didn’t you, dear. It must have been a shock.’
‘I was just passing on the way upstairs, and thought I’d look in. I wish I hadn’t now.’
‘Yes, yes. Very nasty indeed, Edie.’
‘Almost as bad as when you found Mummy, out in the garden, wasn’t it?’ said Simon, giving her a meaningful look.
Chapter Three
Mrs Hoskins was preparing a lamb casserole for lunch. She glanced up apprehensively when Miss Lavender entered the kitchen, but motioned to a seat.
‘Mmmm, that does smell inviting, Mrs Hoskins.’
‘I’ve been expecting you all morning. Like I said to the police, if I was going to poison anyone it wouldn’t be with Deadly Nightshade.’
‘Was that the verdict?’
‘Said they thought it would have been put in his tea. Took all the tea away from the kitchen. I had to go out and buy a fresh lot there and then. What an expense.’
‘And what would you choose?’
‘Arsenic. In small doses. In a paste sandwich. Something like that.’
‘Sounds like you’ve thought about it.’
‘Only since it happened. I’ve more important things to do than bump folks off. Specially those I don’t know from Adam. Coming down all that way from Lindin, just to cop it. Bloomin’ marvellous, aint it.’
‘So the police do indeed think Mr Shapley was given the poison in the library?’
‘That’s right. Like I said, in his cuppa. Would you like one, by the way?’
‘What? Oh, yes. Yes. Coffee, if I may.’
Mrs Hoskins turned to the sink to fill the kettle.
‘That means, of course, it would have been extremely fast working.’
The cook turned back to the gas cooker. ‘Eh? What’s that you said?’
‘Fast working. The poison must have worked very fast. If it was in his tea.’
‘No doubt. Fast or slow, it did for him, didn’t it.’
Miss Lavender stirred her coffee slowly, looking out the large kitchen window to the garden. Even from where she sat she could see the conservatory, and also just make out the glass house through a gap in the bushes.
‘Was it a sunny day? The day he died?’
‘Um. I think so. Yes, yes, it was. The
re weren’t any showers that day. Would you like some shortbread? It’s a great recipe, includes ground almonds.’
‘Oh! Could I? I have a partiality to shortbread.’
She took a piece gratefully and bit into it slowly. ‘So was it you who made the tea. Or Seddon?’
Mrs Hoskins, paused. ‘Tell you what. I’m just going to finish off the rhubarb crumble and pop it in the oven. Then I can give you my undivided attention.’
Miss Lavender sat in the sunny window, glad to have a moment to reflect. The family seemed to be accounted for. Sir Tempest, Simon and Edie were in the conservatory awaiting tea. Caroline was with them. Only Fenella was not present. She had remained in her glass house at the far end of the garden. Certainly an outsider could have approached unnoticed, and come to the library by the side door. But that door would have to have been unlocked. By someone who either had the key, or knew of its whereabouts. The gardener, Travers, perhaps.
Mrs Hoskins was as good as her word. She made some tea for herself, and sat down opposite Miss Lavender. She was a hearty looking woman, nearer sixty than fifty, with clear, grey eyes. An honest look.
‘Did you make the tea for everyone that day?’
‘Strange to say, I did. I normally have the afternoon off and come back about six o’clock to sort out dinner. But my Bert was off to a cricket club away match, over in Abbot’s Ann. So we agreed, I’d stay here, catch up on some knitting - I’m trying to make jumpers for all my grandkids for Christmas this year, and a work of love it is too, I can tell you. Then Bert was to pick me up in Tom’s car when they made their way home, in the evening. Albert is a dab hand at sandwiches, and I’d already made scones and a ginger cake.’
‘And the tea is served where, usually?’
‘That depends. Sometimes, the library, sometimes the drawing room even, if Sir T. has visitors.’
‘And the conservatory?’
‘If it’s sunny, yes. Especially if it’s just the family.’
‘You can see the conservatory from here, can’t you.’
‘That’s right. But I’m normally that busy.’ She reached down to her bag, and drew out needles and a piece of lime green knitting.
‘It is a nice window to sit at,’ Miss Lavender remarked. It was set low and there were pots of herbs ranged round the deep window sill. A hanging basket hung above their heads, in which a geranium flourished. ‘Very relaxing. But do go on. Tea is made at three?’
‘The kitchen clock isn’t working at present, or we would normally go by it. So Seddon waits to hear the clock in the hall. It’s the large grandfather, you can’t miss it. Then we lay out the things. About twenty past I boiled the kettle. Seddon went up with the trays at half past.’
‘Trays?’
‘Well with Mr Shapley being in the library, and only wanting tea - no food, as he said he’d had such a good luncheon, we set up a small tray for him.’
‘And you used the same tea for both?’
‘That is correct. Best Assam. But as I said, the police took it.’
‘The same milk? Lemon? Sugar?’
Mrs Hoskins nodded, surveying her stitches for a moment before turning the row. ‘And he ate all the same food as everyone else at lunch. Cleaned his plate, too.’
‘Well, I’m not surprised, judging by the smell of that casserole, not to mention the rhubarb tart. I must bring my knitting the next time I visit you in the kitchen, if I may, Mrs Hoskins.’
The cook visibly relaxed. ‘Well, it would be my absolute pleasure.’
‘I am doing a little knitted lace at present.’
‘Well, Miss Lavender, I would dearly like to see it. That fine fancy work is not for me. But that doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate seeing it in others!’
Miss Lavender twisted round in her seat to gain a better view of the garden. ‘And I suppose you did see the family from here. In the conservatory, I mean?’
‘Why - yes - yes. Of course. Yes, the family were all in the conservatory. Yes, indeed.’
She closely examined the next row of stitches.
‘All except Miss Harrington.’
‘Ah, but she never takes tea. Not as a rule. Too busy in her potting shed.’
II
Miss Lavender caught up with Albert Seddon in the hall. He was busy winding the clocks.
‘Been doing this for nigh on thirty-five years,’ he said as he saw her approaching. ‘It takes a deal to know them. Sensitive beasts, timepieces. And Sir Tempest likes them set particular.’
‘Oh, is that so? In what way, in particular?’
‘Well,’ said Seddon standing back, the winding key in his hand. ‘This one here, from Amsterdam originally, is set on the hour, Greenwich Mean Time, as near as I can make it. It’s the only one that strikes the half hour. Then we go to the billiard room, the dining room, the drawing room, in that order. Then the big one on the landing. In an ideal world they should follow on exactly from the preceding one, if you see what I mean. Though that takes some doing, I can tell you.’
‘So at twelve o’clock, the family must hear about five minutes of clock chimes.’
‘Almost five and a half. We have the chime before the actual striking, remember. But it is certainly useful for keeping track. Come round with me if you like. They all need winding today.’
Miss Lavender was only too glad there wasn’t a cuckoo clock.
‘And the kitchen clock. It is broken, isn’t it.’
‘We have to have that one mended. Travers, the gardener does these sorts of odd jobs round the house.’
‘Ah, yes. I have yet to meet him.’
They paused in the landing when the final clock was wound. There was a conveniently sunny alcove, and they would not be overheard there.
‘Tell me, Albert, you and Mrs Hoskins made the tea, that afternoon Shapley died?’
‘That’s right. Not that the gentleman wanted anything to eat, having had a very good luncheon. He just had the tea.’
‘Tell me what happened.’
‘The sandwiches that day were cucumber. I get the loaf specially from Bateman the bakery and keep it chilled so as to cut it fine. Crustless. Sir T. likes it all done proper. The cucumbers were small but cut up beautiful, no seeds. Let me see, there were scones, jam, strawberry, and then Mrs Hoskins’ ginger cake. Specially good, you should try some.’
‘Well, I think I will, while I am here. I did so enjoy her shortbread. But do go on. Who made the tea?’
‘Mrs Hoskins. Assam. The usual for afternoon tea. Then, when I heard the half hour strike I nipped up to the hall with the family trays, then came down and fetched the book gentleman’s tray.’
‘I see. And where did you leave the trays?’
‘Well, if you’ll look over the bannister you’ll just make out the hall table. I set the trays there’
‘And did you serve Mr Shapley first?’
‘Well, no. I brought the larger trays to the family in the conservatory first. It was easier to put in Mr Shapley’s tray to him after.’
‘And was he in the library?’
‘He was busy, bending over his books at the far end. He didn’t like the interruption, I could tell.’
‘So, he didn’t turn round?’
‘No.’
‘Then where did you go?’
‘Back to the kitchen.’
‘And all the family were in the conservatory.’
‘Ah, let’s see now. Yes - I think - yes. You could say so. Yes.’
‘Except Miss Harrington.’
‘True.’
‘Would she normally take afternoon tea?’
‘Sometimes. She tends to get involved with her plants.’
Miss Lavender had known Albert Seddon for years. His brother lived in the same village as she, and attended the same church, St Michael and All Saints. And she knew he was keeping something from her. She wondered why. He was obviously shielding a member of the family. But who?
‘I do recall when Prudence Harrington died. It was terrible fo
r Sir Tempest. I had not realised that both Simon and Edie were home when it happened.’
‘Well,’ said Seddon, with a sigh, ‘there was as much gossip about at the time, you began to wonder what you could believe. It took a couple of years to die down too. She was a poor thing, and no mistake. Begging your pardon for saying so.’
‘Ballerina.’
‘That’s right. Pipe cleaner thin, and brittle nerves. Her dancing days were over when she met Sir T. He wanted more children. I am not so sure she did. I think she did it for him, and then regretted it. Not the maternal type.’
‘I heard there was drink?’
‘That’s right. And more. Couldn’t kick the habit.’
‘How very sad.’
‘Sir T. was very fond of her, of course. Covered up everything. But it took a toll on him. And it was bound to come out one way or another in the end. Wasn’t it.’
‘An accident, in the garden? Icy steps?’
‘If you want to believe that.’
‘You mean . . .?’
‘She wasn’t liked. Put it that way.’
‘You’ve never let on about this before, Albert.’
He laughed dryly. ‘I wanted to keep my job. But I could retire now, if I wanted to. I have a good enough pension.’
‘So . . .?’
‘Oh, I couldn’t tell you. But Miss Lavender, think on this. In her night clothes, on the coldest day of the year. At the bottom of the garden in the pitch dark.’
‘She could have slipped. Banged her head.’
‘Yes, she could have.’
‘And it was Edie who found her.’
‘That’s right. She knew where to look. We had had a search party out scouring the village and thereabouts for two days. Frozen stiff the body was. No. Edie found her.’
‘Edie does appear to have a knack at coming across corpses.’
‘True. Very true.’
‘But she was - what - ten at the time?’
‘Eleven years and two months. I remember her birthday. It’s in November.’
‘And what happened to the trays?’
‘Trays?’
‘The afternoon tea. Shapley’s tray?’
‘Well, I brought it back down to the kitchen of course.’
Snuffed It in the Library Page 3