Death Will Find Me (A Tessa Kilpatrick Mystery, Book 1)

by Vanessa Robertson

  Tessa felt more nervous at the prospect of seeing Bill than she ever had before; this restless fidgeting was unlike her. But today felt somehow significant, as though acknowledging that Bill was more than just a useful friend with ready access to War Office documents. Then she realised, this nervous excitement was exactly how she used to feel when she was meeting James, back in the day when all was romance and roses between them. It seemed that however much Tessa tried to deny any feelings that she might have for Bill, her subconscious was having none of it.

  Unable to settle at home, she’d called at Jenner’s department store with her mother’s list of household necessities and placed an order. Her mother’s view of how she needed to equip her home was exhaustive and even before she left the house she’d crossed off a number of items that she doubted were needed. She had no idea what to do with a fish kettle or a bain marie and decided that she could do without either for the time being. How she could possibly require so much was beyond her.

  Despite her lengthy sojourn in Jenner’s discussing the merits of kitchen china and types of saucepan, Tessa still arrived at the station well before the train was due. Perhaps today would see a little more time shaved off the length of the journey and an early arrival.

  At last, dead on time, the train pulled up, all smoke and steam and frantic activity. Tessa stood on tiptoe to peer at the disembarking passengers. After a minute or so, she spotted Bill and set off towards him, half-running as she threaded between trunks and luggage trolleys and people, calling his name as she drew close. He spun round and grinned, holding his arms out to hug her. He felt warm and safe, and Tessa rested her head on his cashmere over-coated shoulder for a moment before pulling away as she remembered that it was not acceptable for newly widowed women to embrace men at the railway station. Personally, she didn’t care but it seemed her mother knew everyone and there was bound to be someone around who would witness her behaviour and report back next time they paid a call. Life at the moment seemed to be a fine balance between respecting and humouring her mother’s sensibilities and going her own way.

  ‘Tessa! You look—’ Bill broke off and she could see him trying to come up with an appropriate adjective.

  ‘I look very well considering everything. That seems to be the most common observation. I think people expect me to either pine away with grief or to be pale and wracked with guilt. That I am neither is apparently cause for comment.’ Tessa shrugged.

  Bill carried a sturdy attaché case, and not bothering to wait for one of the porters, they walked down the length of the train to the guard’s van to collect the rest of his luggage. Once in a hansom cab, she filled him in on the situation at home.

  ‘Mama is trying to act as though everything is completely normal, and is simply ignoring the fact that her son-in-law has been murdered and that no real suspect has emerged save for yours truly. If she can, she avoids using the word “murder”. I think she feels that she doesn’t have to confront the awkward aspects of the situation if she doesn’t acknowledge it. McKenzie’s death is unsettling her and I’m curious too about that. James’s card was tucked into McKenzie’s papers but James had never mentioned seeing him since he was demobbed.’

  ‘So the two murders might not be related?’

  ‘Maybe not. Rasmussen thinks they are and as far as Mama is concerned, this second murder gets me off the hook so she’s very pleased about that. But if they are connected, it suggests that James was involved in something secretive, possibly unsavoury, and she doesn’t like the idea of that. Your visit is less of a concern than I expected and of course, as I’ve told her that I’m going to move to the house in Royal Circus in a few days, that’s doing a wonderful job of distracting her. Murder is one thing, my having a gentleman friend as a house guest is another, but my taking up residence without a full complement of staff and a fish kettle is much more serious. I mean, what will people think?’

  Tessa had expected her mother to be aghast at the prospect of Bill’s arrival and was shocked by the way she took it in her stride. Returning from the scene of Callum McKenzie’s murder, Tessa had felt energetic and purposeful. In the space of an hour she had made a telephone call to Bill to organise his visit and to tell him what military papers he would need to bring with him. She had also telephoned the removers to ensure that they had received her letter and would be delivering her furniture on the appointed day. She asked Florence to make sure all her clothes were clean and ready to be packed. Less optimistically, she wrote to a domestic agency in the hope of finding a cook-housekeeper, although given the number of people she heard bemoaning the difficulty of finding servants, she thought she might have to be more inventive. When Lady Elspeth came to find her in the library to ask if Tessa was planning to join her for tea, she had seemed rather taken aback by this whirlwind of activity.

  ‘Are you completely sure about this idea of moving to Royal Circus? You only have furniture and some rugs. You need kitchen things and bedlinen and so on. And how will you manage without staff?’

  ‘There’s no earthly point in letting the house stand empty, Mama, especially when so much money has been spent on it. As Papa said, I’m a grown woman and I can’t live with my parents for ever. As for staff, I only really need a cook-housekeeper and a daily woman, and I hope that Mrs Forsyth might help me find the former. If it comes to it, in the short term I can look after myself perfectly adequately. My cooking isn’t terribly accomplished but I’ve managed to feed myself in the past armed with a camp stove, a frying pan and a Bowie knife. And I can come here for dinner, can’t I? So that I don’t starve?’

  ‘I suppose so. It’s no substitute for having your own staff though.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Tessa smiled sweetly.

  ‘And what of Bill? If he’s to be here for a week or more where will he go when you move to Royal Circus?’

  ‘Don’t worry about Bill, Mama. I know a very respectable small hotel in Inverleith, where he can stay.’ Tessa kept smiling even as she lied through her teeth.

  Overall, dinner that evening was a success. Aunt Ishbel joined them and kept the conversation interesting and, more importantly, diverted Tessa’s mother when necessary. Tactfully, Tessa wore a black, beaded dress, loose and low-waisted, and although it was sleeveless and not particularly widow-ish, she had conceded to her mother’s pre-war values by adding elbow-length satin gloves. Bill and Sir David looked utterly impeccable in their evening clothes and Ishbel wore an embroidered velvet dress in shades of red, setting off her dark hair, still unflecked with grey. Tessa noticed her mother smiling at the party. She had always been a social creature and enjoyed playing the gracious hostess. Tessa hoped that this evening would go well.

  ‘I was surprised that you were able to take time off from your work at the War Office at such short notice, Major Henderson. Your superiors must be very understanding.’ Lady Elspeth was plainly curious as to just how Bill had been able to abandon what she presumed was an important job at the War Office.

  ‘They certainly are. The General in particular is a huge admirer of Tessa’s, and when I told him that she had asked for my help he told me to come immediately and to take as long as I needed.’

  ‘Really? I didn’t think Tessa had done anything that a general would know about.’

  ‘He’s a lovely man and he wrote the most charming letter when I was injured, Mama. It’s so sweet that he remembers me and wants to help.’ Tessa spoke blandly, hoping that her mother wouldn’t ask what she’d done to deserve such gratitude: Lady Elspeth wouldn’t take kindly to being told that Tessa wasn’t allowed to tell her.

  ‘How did you two meet?’ Ishbel asked. She knew little of Tessa’s friendship with Bill.

  ‘Tessa saved my life. She rescued me from a ruined farmhouse when a recce I led went wrong. The other chaps got away but I was shot in the leg. I hid in the farmhouse and had more or less given up hope of rescue when a car roared up and Tessa hauled me into the passenger seat. It was freezing and she was so wrapped up in a hat
and scarf that I didn’t realise she was a girl at first. Then I saw how she dealt with a German soldier and realised that she was no ordinary ambulance driver.’ Bill smiled, enjoying himself. Tessa tried to kick him under the table but couldn’t reach.

  ‘Goodness, what happened?’

  ‘Chap stepped out and raised his gun. Despite the car, and Tessa being able to speak German, he wasn’t convinced by us and luckily she was faster on the draw than he was. Amazing reactions.’

  ‘Tessa, what did you do?’ Her mother sounded alarmed and Tessa glared at Bill.

  ‘I shot him between the eyes, Mama. Don’t worry, he didn’t suffer.’ Tessa caught Kincaid’s eye and he refilled her glass. ‘Did I tell you that I found some very nice copper pans in Jenner’s? When I finally find a cook, I’m sure she’ll be thrilled with them.’

  ‘Cooks do like to be well-equipped.’ Aunt Ishbel agreed.

  ‘Not that Tessa actually has any staff at present.’ Lady Elspeth would far rather discuss household matters than her daughter’s more unconventional past, and was delighted to be able to move on briskly even if it was to re-tread familiar ground. ‘There simply aren’t servants to be had any more.’

  ‘Don’t worry. I’ll find someone soon. Mrs Forsyth is my secret weapon. Mind you, I don’t blame girls for not wanting to go into service. During the war they got to do all sorts of other things and were paid properly. Why would they want to work longer hours for less money and be treated with less respect?’

  ‘We treat our staff very well.’ Lady Elspeth was irked at the suggestion. ‘Kincaid, are we not good employers?’ The butler, circling the table and refilling glasses, looked up.

  ‘Very good employers, milady. But if I might be so bold, this family is rather the exception. I hear of many other families who are not so considerate.’

  ‘Really?’ Tessa’s eyes lit up. ‘Who might that be? And do you think their cooks could be enticed away?’

  ‘Milady, I really don’t think I should say.’ Kincaid was as discreet as ever, but Tessa knew that she, or Mrs Forsyth if not, would be able to wheedle that little gem of information out of him in no time.

  Dinner continued, although the servant problem was dispensed with as a topic of conversation, before Lady Elspeth could once again rehearse her arguments about the unsuitability of Tessa living at Royal Circus alone and without staff. Sir David began a not particularly amusing anecdote about a friend’s golfing misadventure in which Bill attempted to look interested, and Ishbel and Tessa doggedly maintained a conversation about skirt lengths, a local art exhibition and the recent engagement of a neighbour’s daughter.

  Chapter Seventeen

  By ten o’clock the following morning, the mahogany dining table was covered with paper as Tessa and Bill organised the reams of notes and official records that he’d brought up with him: some typed but most covered with tiny handwriting, often crabbed and smudged. These small, mundane entries which held the details of James’s wartime activities and those of Callum McKenzie as well as countless other men, so understated the magnitude of their bravery and sacrifice. Somewhere here might be the link that connected them and some indication of the motive behind their murders. Or possibly not. These might not be the right records, some essential pages might be missing or the link between the two men might not have been written down anywhere, lost with so many other memories. But for now, this mass of paper was all they had.

  When Rasmussen arrived, ostensibly to see if Tessa and Bill had found any information that might be of use to him, his polite smile became more forced as he took in the magnitude of their task. Tessa knew her enthusiastic claims that the link between the men could be found here, and would then lead to a swift apprehension of the culprit, might have been overstating things somewhat. Seeing Rasmussen’s face, she realised that although he had been willing to go along with her optimism, he was evidently now also sharing her growing feeling that finding the needle in this particular haystack might be a slow, if not, futile process.

  ‘Thank you for bringing all this from London, Major Henderson. I’m sure it will be a great help.’ He didn’t sound convinced.

  ‘I hope so.’ Tessa tried to sound resolute. ‘To be honest, I don’t see how else we can find a link. I’ve been through James’s letters and diaries and found no mention of McKenzie. But if they were killed by the same person there must be a common denominator somewhere.’

  ‘As far as we can tell, the two men were killed by a bullet from the same type of gun. If we can find the bullet casing from the boathouse we can compare marks and possibly say that it was the same gun. Juries don’t always trust that though. However, with the water in the boathouse, I suspect that casing is lost forever.’

  ‘The settings for the murders were very different.’ Tessa was thinking aloud. ‘McKenzie’s murder wasn’t staged to look like suicide. In fact, he couldn’t have killed himself. Luring James to the boathouse is a very different tactic. For starters, unless the murderer was a guest at the house party or one of the servants, he would have had to travel to Fife and hang around the estate hoping for an opportunity and no-one spotted him. But he obviously knew where McKenzie lived and it would have been easy to watch him and know when he was alone.’

  ‘Difficult to catch a murderer when there’s no pattern.’

  ‘Quite.’ Rasmussen didn’t appreciate Bill reminding him of this. ‘So we need to find one. There may be other potential victims.’

  ‘Absolutely. I thought we could build up a timeline. You know, where James and McKenzie were at various points and see where the lines intersect and what happened on those dates.’ Tessa wanted to sound positive.

  ‘That might be useful. If I have any information for you I’ll send a constable. We are conducting enquiries in the Arden Street area in the hope that someone may have seen or heard something but to no avail so far.’ Rasmussen sounded irked. ‘People keep themselves to themselves it seems. If they took a little more interest in what was going on it would make my job much easier.’

  ‘We’ll work as fast as we can.’ Bill had a manner that always seemed to inspire confidence in others. ‘I’m so glad that you realise Tessa couldn’t have had anything to do with James’s death.’

  ‘My superiors would prefer me to come up with actual proof of her innocence, and they are less than pleased that I allowed Lady Kilpatrick to inspect Mr McKenzie’s body and his home while she was, strictly speaking, still a suspect in her husband’s murder.’ Rasmussen was unsmiling. ‘Fortunately for Lady Kilpatrick, my superior’s superior is convinced of her innocence although he seems to be basing this solely on his belonging to the same club as Sir David, so…’ He shrugged.

  ‘We’d better find an answer then.’ Tessa’s heart sank a little to hear that the chief constable’s favourable impression of her father might be all that was saving her from a prison cell.

  ‘Indeed.’ Having established that they had no useful news for him, Rasmussen didn’t waste time on farewells but departed rather abruptly, leaving Tessa and Bill to survey the piles of paper and contemplate with renewed urgency the need to find a suspect – any suspect.

  After a couple of hours, Bill and Tessa had started to create timelines for both men, pinning sheets of paper with dates together and noting down where each man was at a particular moment in time. As they ploughed through four years of records, both were reminded how slow progress had been at the Front and how many lives had been lost for every yard of territory gained. The casualty lists of the injured and the dead were long: so many sons, brothers, sweethearts, husbands. By lunchtime, both were sobered and their enthusiasm for their task had been dampened.

  ‘This is slow going.’ Tessa stretched. ‘Come on, let’s finish our sandwiches and go out for a walk. I’ve something to show you.’

  Before they went out, Tessa changed from her tweed skirt and baggy Fair Isle jersey into a more respectable black blouse and skirt. She wore a dark grey cardigan, long and with a belt loosely knotted at the bac
k, and black low-heeled shoes with a strap buttoned across the instep. Looking in the glass, Tessa saw that she looked deathly pale so added a little rouge and some jewellery: discreet diamond earrings and a couple of ruby and diamond bangles. Further assessment in the mirror showed the very model of a respectable widow, albeit one dressed in cashmere and Cartier.

  In the hall she met her mother, returning from a foray to Maule’s, almost certainly to ensure that Tessa would not be moving to Royal Circus without an adequate supply of sheets.

  ‘You look lovely.’ Lady Elspeth was pleased that for once her daughter was listening to her advice about wearing the proper clothes. ‘Are you going somewhere?’

  ‘Yes, Mama. I’m going to show Bill a couple of options for lodgings while he’s in the city.’ Bill appeared from the morning room, also smartened up, and presumably waiting for Tessa to reappear.

  ‘It has been very kind of you to welcome me here, Lady Elspeth, but I think I’m going to be staying in Edinburgh for a while, and it would be better for me to stay elsewhere rather than to impose on your hospitality any further.’ Bill twinkled his most charming smile.

  ‘I see.’ Lady Elspeth smiled, obviously pleased by this. ‘As I explained to Tessa, you are very welcome to remain here but I can understand that you might wish to stay elsewhere. As the household is still in mourning for poor James, house guests might find us rather dull company.’ Her tone of regret was almost convincing.

  ‘So,’ Bill began, once they were outside in the crisp February sunshine, ‘where are we off to?’