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

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Death Will Find Me (A Tessa Kilpatrick Mystery, Book 1) Page 15

by Vanessa Robertson


  Tessa wondered whether Bill would return with any interesting nuggets of information gleaned from James’s friends. She knew that they would be suspicious of Bill’s presence in Edinburgh and doubted that they would have anything complimentary to say about her. Giles Gumley, in particular, had always been hostile and any attempts on her part to exchange more than perfunctory greetings had always been sneered at by him.

  A few hansom cabs passed, the horses’ shoes ringing on the granite cobbles, and a handful of cars roared down the road, their engines seeming especially loud in the quiet darkness. The fire still burned in the grate, though with little purpose, but it was cold by the window and, as the night drew on, tiny cobwebs of ice started to spread across the glass. The hall clock had chimed midnight a while back and Tessa was beginning to fall asleep when she saw Bill walking towards the house, in and out of the pools made by the streetlights on the railings.

  Instantly awake, she flew down the stairs and opened the front door, creak-free due to Kincaid’s assiduous attention. Holding her finger to her lips, she closed the door with the tiniest of clicks, eased the bolts across and beckoned Bill upstairs to her bedroom. Her parents’ room was a level below and towards the back of the house. Her mother was a heavy sleeper but just in case, Tessa turned the lamp down so that it would barely show beneath the door. She took Bill’s coat and indicated the armchair by the hearth. Throwing another log on the fire and watching it flare into life, she pulled up another chair, shivering as she did so.

  ‘Your mother will have kittens if she catches me in your bedroom.’ Bill loosened his bow tie and undid his collar stud.

  ‘Quite probably. Although I’m hardly dressed for entertaining a gentleman caller.’ Tessa waved a hand at her striped flannel pyjamas, thick socks and woollen dressing gown. ‘We’d best be quiet though, just in case she wakes.’

  ‘Come here, you’ll give yourself chilblains.’ Seeing Tessa shiver and put her feet up on the fender, he leaned over and swung her legs round so that she could sit with her feet on his knees and he could rub some feeling back into them.

  ‘Thanks. Now, tell me what happened this evening.’

  ‘I introduced myself as an old comrade who’d come up to offer my condolences. You’ll be flattered to know that a couple of them are ready and willing to comfort you themselves.’

  ‘And no doubt they’re exactly the sort of men I’d be interested in.’ Tessa laughed. ‘Did you learn anything useful?’

  ‘Not really. They all seemed to like James. You too, for that matter. Except for someone called Giles. He was quite unpleasant. The others asked me to join them to play cards but I got the impression he wouldn’t have liked that.’

  ‘Oh, him.’ Tessa shook her head. ‘Frankly, Giles Gumley is an idiot. He managed to avoid being called up because he supposedly has something wrong with one of his legs, although it isn’t gammy enough to stop him shooting and stalking in the Highlands every year. Mind you, he didn’t profit from the war. He took over the family firm in about 1913, made some bad investments in Germany and lost a packet. He bet on the wrong side.’

  ‘A traitor do you think?’

  ‘No, I don’t think so. Just stupid and greedy. I’ve always thought he was a nasty piece of work. He’s married to a girl I was at school with, she’s pretty poisonous too. They’re trying to maintain appearances but it’s all a little shaky I gather.’

  ‘I’m told that his wife was pretty keen on James. Not sure how far it went though.’

  ‘Well, I put her on my list for Rasmussen. James would flirt with anyone, mind, but I’m not sure it would have progressed beyond that. Giles would be furious though.’

  ‘But no real motive for murder?’

  ‘I wouldn’t think so. I don’t think he’d have the guts to do it himself and these days he’s no money for hiring assassins.’ Tessa smiled. ‘You never know though. It depends whether he thought James was a threat to his marriage. But then, that would mean the murder of McKenzie was unrelated and I’m not sure I believe in coincidences to that extent.’

  ‘I see. We’ll keep him on the possible but unlikely suspect list then. How was your evening at home?’

  ‘Papa was working in the library and so it was just Mama and me. She wanted to have a little chat about you.’

  ‘Really?’ Bill looked concerned.

  ‘Don’t worry. It was what I expected. She pointed out that it is improper in the extreme that I have a gentleman visitor so soon after my husband’s death. So I crossed my fingers behind my back and told her you were moving to an hotel tomorrow. I distracted her by talking about the new house. I still have no staff, save from the sainted Florence, and Mama was quite speechless when I said I could do my own washing and ironing.’ Tessa wriggled her toes, the feeling seeping back into them from Bill’s warm hands.

  ‘She will be furious when she finds out that I’m moving in. You know you won’t be able to keep that from her for long.’

  ‘Probably not.’ Tessa shrugged. ‘But I can’t be bothered. I shall live as I see fit and she alone will have to worry about my reputation.’

  ‘She doesn’t want to see you ostracised from society. That matters to her.’

  ‘I won’t be cast out though,’ Tessa said with a shrug. ‘It’s horribly arrogant to say it, but my husband was a viscount, my grandfather was a duke, my father is a baronet and I’m filthy rich. I’m always going to be acceptable in polite society because society is very shallow, even somewhere as stuffy as Edinburgh. The money and the breeding are why she thinks I should worry about society’s opinion, and yet they’re precisely the reasons why I don’t have to give two hoots as to what people think. Especially these days.’

  ‘James’s friends think you’re quite a catch. You’ll have plenty of offers.’ Bill’s eyes were narrowed and she noticed that despite his lazy manner, relaxing in the armchair, he was watching her closely.

  ‘Oh, I’m not planning to marry again.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘No. I think I shall do what Aunt Ishbel is planning to do now that she’s been widowed again. I shall just take a discreet lover.’ She laughed, but then their eyes met and they both fell silent. ‘It’s good to know that I have a choice of them,’ she said, hurriedly trying to fill the silence.

  ‘Absolutely. If you’re after a hard-drinking gambler, there’s a fine selection there.’ Bill smiled and Tessa noticed again how very handsome he was, especially now in the lamplight with his dinner jacket and open collar giving him a somewhat dissolute air, and those dark brown, almost black, eyes were warm with promise. She remembered the night, years ago, when she’d looked into those eyes and almost lost her senses. Tessa pulled herself together, not wanting to let her thoughts wander down those particular paths. But becoming romantically involved with Bill was very tempting.

  ‘I’d better head off to bed. We’ve a busy day tomorrow.’

  Bill broke the silence and rose; Tessa crossed the room to open the door. On the threshold he bent to kiss her cheek. Tessa caught her breath and raised her hand to his face, unable to meet his eyes.

  ‘Promise me, Tessa, that if you’re planning to take a lover, you’ll consider me first.’ His whisper was so quiet that for a moment Tessa thought she’d imagined his words. It was with a great force of will that she shut the door behind him and climbing into bed, she reflected that maybe she should have arranged for him to move to an hotel after all. He was altogether too disturbing to have so close.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Tessa slept badly, woken by nameless fears and worries that disappeared like mist in sunshine when she tried to recall them. She lay in bed, listening to the bells of Saint Stephen’s tolling, and got up when they struck seven. It was still dark, the house quiet, save for the sound of Florence making up fires downstairs and Kincaid organising the breakfast things. She took a quick bath, dressed, packed those few belongings that remained scattered around her room and went downstairs, eager to gulp down a black coffee and c
rack on with the day.

  After everyone had breakfasted, the family trooped out to the mews, where Harrison had strapped Bill’s cases to the back of Tessa’s car. Farewells were said, thanks given for hospitality and then Tessa and Bill set off, ostensibly for a small but highly respectable hotel in Inverleith near the Botanic Gardens.

  Instead, she drove the half-mile to Royal Circus, turned into the lane and swung in through the sliding doors of the mews at the back of her house. A pantechnicon was already drawn up at the front of the house and a team of overalled men were ferrying her belongings into the house from their dusty storage in some distant warehouse. Florence had already arrived and was hard at work, polishing the furniture and telling removers where to place it according to Tessa’s hastily scribbled plan. Lady Elspeth was intending to spend the morning in the department stores of the city, where assistants would leap to her command as she sought to equip Tessa with yet more supposed necessities. Tessa had resigned herself to the inevitable arrival of the fish kettle.

  ‘Here we are.’ Tessa showed Bill into the bedroom at the front of the basement, looking out into the yard with its cellars under the pavement and steps up to street level. She went to the window and lowered the blind, cutting off his view, such as it was, and preventing the eyes of passers-by from looking in. It was impossible to resist glancing down as one walked past; Tessa herself was fascinated by the glimpses of other people’s lives seen through uncurtained or unshuttered windows. The room was rather bare at present with a slightly worn Persian rug from her grandmother’s house, a wardrobe, a chest of drawers, and a comfortable leather armchair by the small fireplace.

  ‘There is a bed, I promise. A huge mahogany boat of a thing that belonged to Grandmama. But don’t worry, there’s a new mattress so it won’t reek of her Guerlain.’

  ‘How thoughtful. It’s a nice room. I’ll be fine here.’ Bill sounded a little unsure despite his words, as though he were having second thoughts about Tessa’s plan for his accommodation.

  Rather than discuss this, Tessa left him to unpack and went upstairs. There was a door at the bottom of the stairs that could be locked to separate the two parts of the house. When her mother eventually discovered that Bill was staying there – as she undoubtedly would one day – Tessa wondered whether she would be less horrified if she promised to keep the interconnecting door locked.

  As she wandered through the house, Tessa smiled. Furniture made the empty house start to feel like a home but she needed paintings, she decided, and curtains; although, most of the main rooms at least had shutters which unfolded from the panelling to cover the windows at night. One of the men was fixing a huge Venetian mirror above the drawing room fireplace and shards of sunlight glittered off the bevelled edges: rainbows dancing across the white walls. Yes, she was sure she would be happy here. She told herself that the anonymous note was an aberration and the sort of people who sent such letters didn’t have the nerve to engage more directly.

  After a lunch of packets of sandwiches sent along by Mrs Forsyth, Bill went to the police station to discuss the previous day’s discovery with Inspector Rasmussen. Parcels began to arrive from Gray’s and Maule’s, borne by harried delivery boys, full of towels and bedlinen and kitchen equipment, the purposes of which baffled Tessa.

  She could cook a little, after a fashion. Before the war, she had been aware that the chances of someone always being available to cook for her when she took a break between ambulance driving shifts were small, so she’d asked Mrs Forsyth to teach her a few basic recipes before she left to join the FANY in Calais. She had been correct and glad of her foresight, the alternative being a diet of Abernethy biscuits and Typhoo tea. Not that there had always been much in the way of ingredients, but she could generally rustle up something hot and edible from whatever was lying around, even if it was only a couple of tired-looking potatoes, a rasher or two of bacon and a heel of cheese. She rather prided herself on that, especially considering some of her comrades’ lack of domestic skills. However, she was used to making do with a frying pan and a penknife and wasn’t at all sure what to do with something Florence told her was a mandolin. All she knew was that the blades looked lethal.

  Lady Elspeth herself appeared at three o’clock. Fortunately, Bill was still unpacking downstairs. The removal men had left and Tessa had donned an apron and was scrubbing their footprints from the hall floor. The front door was open to let the breeze in to dry the flagstones, and Tessa looked up to see her mother standing in the vestibule with a shocked look on her face.

  ‘Tessa, what on earth are you doing?’

  ‘Cleaning the floor. Florence is doing the bathroom and the removers left footprints everywhere. I thought it best to get them up before the dirt was walked all over the house.’ She sat back on her heels and grinned at her mother who closed the front door behind her.

  ‘What if someone sees you?’

  ‘If someone sees me, I imagine they will think that my removal men left footprints everywhere and that I’m cleaning them up before the dirt is walked all over the house, just like I said.’ Tessa leaned forward to rub a mark from the riser of one of the stairs. ‘I don’t think you need worry that they’ll think we’ve lost all our money and so I can’t afford a charwoman.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘But, nothing. The world is different now and even if we have plenty of staff none of us should feel we’re too good to clean a floor or wash a plate. And can you move over there please, I’ve just done that bit.’ She spoke sharply and immediately felt guilty. Her mother had grown up in a different age and as the daughter of a duke she was never expected to do anything useful. She might sew, but only decorative needlepoint, and certainly not her own mending. She might walk but only for recreation, never as a means of transport. Lady Elspeth McGillivray had married at twenty-one, moved to a house with a wealthy husband, a full complement of staff and her life had continued much as before. It was only when Harrison had been called up that the family had dispensed with the services of a footman. Discovering her daughter, for whom she must have imagined a very different life, on her knees cleaning a floor, must have shaken the very foundations of her world. Feeling conciliatory, Tessa got up and dropped her cloth into the bucket.

  ‘Come on. Let me show you around.’ She held out a hand and smiled. Her mother reciprocated, although more hesitantly. Seeing her glance flick towards her apron, Tessa undid the ties and whipped it off, leaving it draped over the balustrade.

  Lady Elspeth said all the right things as they walked around; although, Tessa knew that she thought the walls would look better with a patterned wallpaper and she was concerned about the lack of curtains. She approved of the William Morris furniture from Liberty but suggested gently that perhaps one of his wallpaper designs would look well with it. When Tessa pointed to the top floor and mentioned, without thinking, that Florence’s room was up there, she asked about the basement and for a moment Tessa thought the game was up.

  ‘The builders have a few things to finish down there, lights and what not. I thought it best she has a room up here for now. The staff can move down to the basement later.’

  ‘Has the domestic agency been in touch?’

  ‘They don’t have anyone suitable at the moment. I’m going to stay here tonight and Florence will unpack all of my clothes tomorrow, while Bill and I go to Melrose with Inspector Rasmussen.’

  ‘You’ll join us for dinner this evening? And tomorrow?’

  ‘Tomorrow evening I rather thought I might go to the Inveries’ drinks party.’ Tessa noted the pursing of her mother’s lips, and could tell she was biting back the suggestion that perhaps going to a party wasn’t an entirely suitable activity for a widow.

  ‘I see. Will Major Henderson be going to the party with you?’ Lady Elspeth’s tone was conversational, although she didn’t catch Tessa’s eye and started putting her gloves back on. Tessa was slightly taken aback. Was her mother giving a tacit approval to her being seen in public with Bill? She was
quick to press home her advantage.

  ‘If you think that would be all right. It would be nice, now he’s moved to the hotel. He’s been such a help.’

  ‘He has. He’s a good man, Tessa. I can see why you turned to him for help.’ Her mother looked at her, considering. ‘I met Mrs Curzon in the gardens today. She was walking that vile Border terrier. She had noticed Major Henderson was our guest and was enquiring about him.’

  ‘Oh yes?’ Tessa raised an eyebrow. Mrs Curzon was noted for her sanctimonious attitudes.

  ‘She seemed to think you and he were having some sort of liaison, given that he’s staying in our house. She said that she thinks that I’m very broad-minded but I should realise how people will talk. And then she started reminding me what a hero James was, and how she was sure that I wouldn’t want his memory to be sullied by you carrying on with another man.’

  ‘Crikey – the cheek of the woman.’ Tessa felt her fury start to rise but her mother smiled at her.

  ‘Quite. I didn’t like her attitude one bit. James deserves our respect for his war record, but it can’t be denied that he was a dreadful husband. And you served too and sacrificed a great deal. You are also entitled to our respect and gratitude. So I pointed that out, and said given what you’ve done, none of us should feel we have the right to criticise the way you live your life and if it means you refuse to spend months or years mourning the death of an unfaithful husband then that’s your prerogative.’

 

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