Snuffed It in the Library

by Kate Hamilton

  Mrs Hoskins looked surprised and pleased to see her.

  ‘Miss Lavender. Now this is nice. Take a seat. I do ‘ope you’ve brought your knitting.’

  ‘As a matter of fact, I seem to have put my knitting bag down somewhere. Now, let me see, where could I have left it. Oh dear, one does become so forgetful, these days.’

  ‘Never mind. Would you ‘ave a cuppa? I’m jest about to make afternoon tea for the family - would you want to wait?’

  ‘Oh, how very kind. A glass of water, perhaps? It is quite warm today in the garden.’

  She took a seat at the head of the table.

  ‘I wasn’t expecting you here this afternoon, Mrs Hoskins.’

  The cook was filling a glass of water at the sink. Miss Lavender was again reminded that she was a bit deaf, and had to repeat her comment when Mrs Hoskins turned back from the sink and handed her the glass.

  ‘Yes. Albert took the opportunity to go into Salisbury with Mrs Blessington-Smythe. I always stay on if he’s off on one of his jaunts in an afternoon. So as to do the teas. I wos jest saying to Richard here about Albert’s links with the RAF. He’s had quite a close connection with the airfield at Larkhill over the years.’

  ‘Ah, yes, yes, I know. He told me. And - er - what about you, Mr Travers, did you have a good war?’ She hated to ask as she was very noncommittal about her own activities during the war, but he sat with a closed expression and she felt direct questions were the only way to get him to open up.

  ‘I saw a fair amount of action, if that is what you mean.’

  ‘Abroad?’

  ‘Correct.’

  ‘It seems so far off now, doesn’t it, if you know what I mean,’ said Mrs Hoskins as she brought out the bread board and the bread knife. ‘Another world away.’

  ‘We had to adapt, certainly,’ agreed Miss Lavender. ‘And then come to terms with things after the war ended.’

  ‘But we won,’ said Mrs Hoskins. We saw Jerry off good ’n’ proper.’

  ‘And hopefully with no real damage done in the long run,’ added Miss Lavender.

  There was only what could be described as a wall of silence from Travers. He responded with a tight smile and took another drink from his mug. It took Mrs Hoskins to break the awkward pause. As she was the only one getting on busily with her work, setting out the things for tea, she didn’t seemed to notice the lapse in conversation.

  ‘Who is in for tea today, Mrs Hoskins?’

  ‘Well, Miss Lavender, there’s yourself - you are having it, I take it?’

  ‘I wouldn’t miss it!’

  ‘Then Sir Tempest. Miss Edie. Simon’s gone off to town with Miss Caroline. And Miss Fenella. Would you know if she wishes tea today, Richard? You’re normally in the know about her whereabouts, aren’t you.’

  He reddened slightly. ‘Well, I don’t consider - well, as it stands I do happen to know she’s gone to town too. Took the Rover.’

  ‘Not be back in time then?’ Mrs Hoskins opened a tin and brought out a delicious looking lemon drizzle cake.

  ‘She was going to the jewellers, she said. Getting a ring reset.’

  ‘A ring?’ Mrs Hoskins brightened. ‘That’s not like Miss Fenella! Is there something we need to know?’

  ‘My lips are sealed,’ he said as he stood up and pushed his chair in. ‘If you will excuse me. I had better check on Ben.’

  He strode out the kitchen.

  ‘Well there’s no knowing what that pair are up to.’

  ‘Pair, Mrs Hoskins?’

  ‘Like as not there’ll be an engagement announced before long. You mark my words.’

  ‘Ah, I see,’ said Miss Lavender. ‘They do seem to suit one another, don’t they. Yes.’

  ‘Not that she doesn’t deserve it, poor lamb. She’s one that’s suffered and no mistake. Problem with her mind.’

  ‘Yes, so I heard. Some years ago now though, wasn’t it.’

  Mrs Hoskins dropped the silver spoons on the saucers with a chink. ‘Well how time do fly. But it must be getting on now a fair bit, I should say.’

  ‘She came to help out when Prudence was expecting her first, didn’t she.’

  ‘That’s when she came down ‘ere permanent. But she’d been back and forth for years afore that. She was society really. Up in Lindin. ‘ad connections. Well it stands to reason being a Harrington, of course.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Miss Lavender after a moment. ‘One would have thought she could have had the choice of any partner, the envy of most young women.’

  The trays were filled. Scones and strawberry jam, and lemon drizzle cake. The sandwiches were egg mayonnaise. Mrs Hoskins went to boil the kettle and warm the pot.

  ‘So the gardeners certainly do a marvellous job, I must say. The garden is beautifully kept. I understand that Fenella is in charge of it. Does she choose the gardeners too, or is that down to Sir Tempest?’

  ‘Oh, Sir Tempest isn’t allowed anywhere near the garden - except to sit in it from time to time, of course. No, Miss Fenella has total say where the garden’s concerned. But I ‘ave to admit, when they were looking for an assistant, after Thomas left, my Albert was asked to put in a good word for Ben Brown by ‘is mother. He’d just left school and it suited everyone jest fine when he got the job. Settled in like a duck to water.’

  She got the silver teapot down from the shelf and poured boiling water into it.

  ‘And Travers?’

  ‘Well. I can’t say much about Richard.’

  The grandfather in the hall struck the half hour. Miss Lavender noticed that the kitchen clock had been mended. It too said half past three. It was time for tea.

  III

  She carried the lighter of the two trays, following Mrs Hoskins up the kitchen stairs.

  ‘Here, Rosamunde, let me help you,’ said Sir Tempest as he met them in the hall.

  ‘No, it’s not heavy, thank you.’ She noted the three tea cups and saucers on the tray she was carrying. They were matching. She recognised the Royal Crown Derby Imari pattern. It was one she particularly admired.

  ‘Ah, tea!’ exclaimed Sir Tempest with relish as they settled themselves in the conservatory. ‘And will you pour, Rosamunde?’

  She was aware of the possibility that Edie might arrive at any moment so she took the opportunity of letting her companion know of her discovery in the summer house.

  He frowned. ‘Well that’s dashed odd. That’s the only thing I can say.’ He added two lumps of sugar to his tea and stirred it slowly.

  ‘I suppose one ought to get back to the police.’

  ‘Police?’

  ‘Inspector MacIntosh. To let him know we have it here at The Court. You did ring to ask if they had taken it?’

  Sir Tempest had been gazing into the distance. ‘Ah, er, no. As a matter of fact I didn’t get round to phoning the Inspector.’

  ‘Well, of course, they should be informed.’

  ‘Anything in it?’

  ‘No, nothing except his name on the inside flap.’

  ‘Pity.’

  ‘Not that it would have necessarily told us anything. But I cannot see that Shapley came all the way down here with an empty briefcase. Can you?’

  ‘No. No indeed. Most odd.’ He continued to gaze into the distance. ‘I say, is that lemon drizzle cake. My. Mrs Hoskins does us proud, doesn’t she.’

  Perhaps her friend was becoming rather tired with all the worry of a possible attempt on his life, not to mention the actual murder last week. He seemed very detached this afternoon. Miss Lavender helped herself to an egg mayonnaise sandwich and sipped her tea.

  Edie had calmed down. The quiet chat with her father seemed to have done the trick. She even entered humming a tune and said cheerily to no one in particular. ‘Lemon drizzle. My absolute favourite. Mrs Hoskins is a gem. Yes. Tea please and lashings of it.’

  Miss Lavender did the honours.

  ‘Pops is paying for me to visit Wimbledon this year with a friend,’ she said happily. ‘I simply love
tennis.’

  ‘You do? I don’t suppose you get much playing.’

  ‘Of course we do. The tennis courts are out of sight. We have two good courts. But they are through the garden and across the lane, aren’t they Pops.’

  ‘Absolutely. Simon’s pretty good.’

  ‘But he’s not coming because he’ll be in France by then.’

  ‘Not if the inquiry is still on, I’m afraid,’ said Miss Lavender.

  Edie drained her cup and bit into a sandwich. ‘That blasted police inquiry. How long are we going to have this hanging over our heads, then.’

  ‘I imagine the police department will allow you to go with a friend to Wimbledon, Edie,’ said her father. ‘At any rate it is not for a number of weeks.’

  ‘They can’t keep us imprisoned in our home. Any further developments, Miss Lavender?’

  ‘Not as such. There is much to consider. You said there are tennis courts out-with the garden?’

  ‘That’s right. My property is extensive but there are a number of public pathways. One goes along the bottom by the stream. Just the other side of the wall there. By the garden gate. I think that I showed you. There are paddocks for the horses, the tennis courts. I grow poplars. The wood is for cricket bats, eventually. The path leads from the east end of the village, near the primary school, to the west end.’

  ‘The posh end,’ added Edie. ‘New houses.’

  ‘It’s a popular short cut.’

  ‘No wonder you keep the garden door locked.’

  The phone rang.

  ‘I’ll get it,’ said Edie jumping up. ‘Mrs Hoskins is as deaf as a post she’ll never hear it.’

  She returned after a moment or two. ‘That was Caro. Simon’s stopping with them tonight.’

  ‘Fine,’ said Sir Tempest. ‘Edie likes to get the phone. Keeps her occupied.’

  ‘I like to be a help,’ she said indignantly. ‘Anyway, when I have my own home I shall see to it that I answer the phone. No butlers for me. I like to be in the know.’

  ‘It’s a pity you were the one to find poor Mr Shapley,’ said Miss Lavender. ‘Sometimes being ‘in the know’ as you put it, can have unexpected results.’

  ‘Quite,’ Edie replied placidly. Either Simon’s absence had reassured her of her father’s undivided attention, or the promise of Wimbledon had had its effect. For the first time in an entire week she was in a good mood. ‘It was such a horrid thing. Seeing him sprawling there on the desk in the library. And he’d been larger than life just an hour or so before at luncheon.’

  ‘And it could have been Bidcombe, rather than poor old Shapley.’

  ‘Well, no, not really Pops,’ said Edie, her mouth full of lemon drizzle cake. ‘I mean it might have been if that fellow Bidcombe hadn’t fallen ill. But it was going to be Shapley alright.’

  ‘How so?’ Miss Lavender’s teacup was poised in mid air.

  ‘Well, I mean that was what they said. When they phoned from the shop. That it would be the owner who was arriving on Tuesday. The other guy had come down with appendicitis.’

  There was a pause. Edie went on munching cake, oblivious to the effect she was having on her companions.

  ‘You didn’t tell me,’ Sir Tempest said quietly.

  ‘That I took the call? It probably slipped my mind. Does it matter?’

  ‘When did they phone?’ asked Miss Lavender.

  ‘Monday afternoon. About four o’clock. We were just finishing tea. Me and Caroline and Aunt Fenella. I remember it particularly because Caro thought his name ever so funny. Wittering. We spent some time making up limericks. You know. There was an old man named Wittering . . . whose unfortunate habit was littering . . . that sort of thing.’

  ‘Yes, well,’ said her father. ‘I think we can lay that one to rest.’

  ‘Lay to rest!’ Edie burst out laughing.

  Miss Lavender tutted under her breath. ‘That was a very good afternoon tea. Thank you. Now,’ she began to look round. ‘Wherever did I leave my knitting bag.’

  ‘In the library,’ replied her friend. ‘Be a good girl and fetch it for Miss Lavender, Edie.’

  They waited until she had left the conservatory and was out of earshot. Sir Tempest looked more worried than ever. Miss Lavender felt for him. This certainly wasn’t easy. More and more the evidence was stacking up against his own daughter, Edie. And yet to have admitted to have received the phone call with the information that it was to be Wittering Shapley who would be coming to The Court, surely put her in the clear. There was, however, one other thing to ascertain from Edie.

  Miss Lavender pulled out the double pointed pins and began to cast on the requisite number of stitches to make the second, matching sock of the pair she was knitting. Edie, on her way from the library, had asked Mrs Hoskins for more tea. She and her father were finishing more cake too. Miss Lavender knitted a few rows and then asked Edie if she had managed to have time to bring the costumes from the summer house.

  ‘Mmmh, yes. But only one chest. Sorry about that, but when I reached the attic with the costumes I got so engrossed in an old photo album, I didn’t have time to clear the rest. I promise I’ll do that after tea.’

  Chapter Nine

  It was Tuesday. A whole week since the murder.

  True to form Edie raced to the phone ahead of the doddering Seddon and took the call. She found Miss Lavender sitting having morning coffee in the conservatory. The day was cloudy. It looked like it might rain later, and there was knitting to be done. She wanted to complete her sock and was very happy with her progress. She was almost at the heel. Knitting helped her to think.

  ‘Pops around?’

  ‘No. Not here anyway. You might find him in the library though. Can I help?’

  ‘Going to have an interesting visit.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘Just got the phone. It’s a relative of Mr Shapley. Sounded upset. Wants to come and see where he died.’

  ‘Really? When?’

  ‘Tomorrow.’

  ‘When you say upset, what do you mean?’

  ‘Oh, not angry. Not angry at all. Just - well, wobbly. Like he was about to burst into tears.’

  ‘Well, you’d better let Fenella and your father know, I suppose.’

  She sat for a while, her knitting on hold. Now this was a turn-up for the books, and most unexpected. She did hope he wouldn’t be turned away. It might be a little awkward, however if he asked too many questions. He could hardly be informed that his relative had been killed by mistake.

  Sir Tempest was of the same mind, but Fenella thought it a serious imposition.

  ‘I really think that they should do their grieving at home,’ she said. ‘What good will it do coming to The Court to gape at an empty library?’

  ‘We won’t really know anything until they turn up.’

  ‘Can’t you put them off?’ said Fenella. ‘Really Edie, it’s most impractical of you to take phone calls. That is Seddon’s job. And he would not give any firm reply until he had informed your father. Why on earth did you not consult him first instead of just putting the phone down?’

  Edie hung her head. ‘Got carried away. Anyway nothing happens round here. It’s deadly dull. It’s interesting to see people’s reaction if you say you’ve come across a body.’

  ‘Not when it is one of their relatives,’ said her father with a worried frown.

  ‘And anyway,’ continued Fenella, ‘who have you been talking to - about coming across bodies?’

  ‘No one. I just meant in my imagination.’

  ‘I hardly consider the present circumstances can be called dull, Edie.’

  ‘She said deadly dull,’ said Simon with a laugh.

  ‘Bags I be here when they come. How long are they staying,’ said Caroline.

  ‘She hasn’t even got those details, Caroline,’ said Fenella. ‘Really Edie, you must learn not to try to take control.’

  ‘It’s my home too,’ said Edie sulkily.

  ‘Well, whenever this Mr -
.’

  ‘Mr Constantine. Edward Constantine.’

  ‘Whenever this Mr Constantine turns up,’ said her father, ‘I do not want everyone hanging around, do you hear. If he is grieving then he will not want an entire family looking on.’

  ‘Well, he shouldn’t choose to come then.’

  ‘Fenella,’ said her brother, ‘I know you are upset about this terrible affair. We all are. But we need to understand there are others affected. If I were you, why don’t you just stay in the garden as usual. I will make sure he doesn’t come outside. There’s no need for him to see over the house, is there. Rosamunde and I will meet with him. The situation is a delicate one.’

  Caroline cast a look at Simon. She had driven over with him from Tidworth and meant to stay for the afternoon. As usual the family had gathered for lunch and the mood had lightened. Perhaps the visits to town had helped to break the tension. The only one to look worn out was Sir Tempest. He was spending long hours in the library now, alone, smoking his pipe. It was almost as if, thought Miss Lavender, he was willing the murderer to have another go. Perhaps he did believe her theory that he was intended victim after all, although he had brushed that suggestion off.

  II

  She had hoped to have a quiet word alone with Caroline, and she was not disappointed. Simon and Edie took themselves off to play a game of tennis down at the courts. Fenella vanished, presumably to her plants. And Sir Tempest went back to the library. Caroline sat opposite. She had bought a new shade of nail varnish in town and was giving herself a home manicure. Miss Lavender had now turned the heel and was racing to the toe.

  ‘I thought it was going to rain earlier. But it seems to be holding off. Pity if Edie and Simon have to stop their play.’

  ‘They have an entire billiard room to themselves. They’ll not stick.’ She opened the bottle of nail varnish remover, and reached for a cotton wool ball. ‘Does the smell bother you?’

  ‘Not in the slightest.’

  ‘I have a Spring Ball to attend tonight with Rupert. Got to look glamorous.’

  ‘How exciting.’

  ‘Not really. Just the same old crowd. Still, I like to dance. So does Rupert, although you wouldn’t think it to look at him. Enjoys his food, does my Rupert.’