‘Would he have tried to kill Clara Fischer too? And Kate Mulloney?’
‘It seems too ridiculous.’
‘Unless it’s not one person doing all this.’
‘What? Two people in tandem? By coincidence or together?’
Guy gave a shrug. ‘It’s worth considering.’ He looked down at Louisa and smiled. ‘Two people in tandem is not always a bad thing, you know.’
‘Go on,’ said Louisa but she was smiling too. ‘Be off with you.’
CHAPTER FIFTY
There weren’t many facts at her disposal but this Louisa knew so far: Luke had brought the chocolates to Paris; she had eaten one and been sick all night; Shaun had eaten, at the least, ‘most’ of them and died the following morning. If the chocolates didn’t contain sesame – and it would be strange if they did – then they were poisoned. Also, the chocolates were not intended for Shaun Mulloney, Luke having said they were a present for Diana; a fatal mistake had been made. Luke presumably did not see Shaun eat the chocolates, it must have happened while he was down in the kitchen talking to her. Was he not watching them at all? If he meant Diana to eat them, why did he not press them on her more assiduously? He may have been too drunk.
Was Diana the intended target? Luke didn’t like Diana, she knew that. It was one of the things that had bonded them together: the uncomfortable awareness that they both needed her yet found her cold and selfish. But however much Louisa felt unsympathetic to her mistress, she had never had the slightest desire to kill her. Was Luke really made of such horrible stuff? It didn’t square with the man she had got to know and like so much – but then, she had always been wary around him, too. She had told herself it was because she wasn’t sure if he was talking to her because he enjoyed her company or because he thought he would get gossip he could use for his column. Unless she had sensed something more sinister at hand.
These thoughts went round and round in Louisa’s mind as she got on with her day’s work, which continued to be as uneventful and easy as usual. Diana was a little more demanding than when Louisa had first joined the household, having a greater sense of herself as she grew in maturity as a mother and wife. But she was distracted these days. Books were picked up and put down again minutes later, a page hardly having been turned. Even when she played with her boys when they were brought down for an hour at teatime – usually her favourite time of day – her thoughts seemed to wander. And she was snappier than usual with Bryan, who was rarely able to put a foot right in spite of what appeared always to be the very best of intentions.
A few days after the interview with Diana and Bryan, and now that the immediate aftermath of Lytton Strachey’s funeral was over, the family went down to Biddesden. Bryan was always happier there and Diana was generally content to return, though not this time. She chafed at leaving London and the parties and opening nights she would be missing, whining that she could easily stay behind on her own, but Bryan pointed out that Dora Carrington was coming to stay and in light of what had happened they could hardly cancel. ‘Yes,’ agreed Diana reluctantly. ‘She so kindly wrote and said she would give me one of Lytton’s waistcoats, to remember him by. I could get it altered and wear it.’
Having arrived back and settled Diana in, Louisa went to her room, a pleasant space that was not in the attic but one floor below, a little closer to Diana’s bedroom. It had been decorated very simply but it was all her own – no children or other servants to share with – containing little more than a single bed, a chest of drawers, a long mirror and a framed Constable print. The best feature was a large sash window that overlooked the gardens, and Louisa threw it open now to breathe in the clean air that she believed she could taste as well as any seasoned dish. The trees were still bare but there had been an unseasonable few days of warmth which had tricked some of the blackthorn into coming out early. It looked as if snow had settled on their branches. On the outskirts of the land, Louisa saw three horses out with riders. Bryan had bought them from a riding school, so that guests might take them out and enjoy the grounds at a pleasant trot. It was quite likely that Dora Carrington had arrived just before them, with her husband Ralph; Pam had probably taken them out. As a young girl she had been the keenest rider of all the Mitford sisters. Louisa thought she could make out who was who on each horse: the man certainly; then Pamela, who was not stout exactly but not as narrow-waisted as Diana; while the smallest, slightest figure, like an ant, had to be Dora. To Louisa’s horror, as she watched, the horse with Dora on it suddenly reared up and bolted towards the road. The tiny figure seemed to be holding on but was violently bumped up and down, and as the horse turned the corner on to the road, the rider was thrown off completely.
Louisa ran downstairs and sounded the alarm, and quickly Bryan went out in his car to the road, perhaps hoping to stop the horse before it ran off or caused any damage. Thankfully, it wasn’t long before Dora was brought back to the house and propped on the library sofa with a rug over her legs. Diana had asked Louisa to fetch Dora some hot chocolate, a bowl of cold water and a flannel. ‘I’m perfectly all right,’ Louisa heard Dora say. ‘It was a shock, that’s all.’
‘You must be careful,’ said Diana, who was bent beside the artist, dipping the flannel into the water, wringing it out and laying it on her friend’s forehead. ‘I couldn’t bear it if something happened to you after Lytton.’
Perhaps Dora hadn’t realized Louisa was still there because she said to Diana quietly: ‘I only wish it had killed me. I long to meet him again and nothing else.’
As softly as she could, Louisa left the room. She did not know if love like that was something one could wish for but she knew that she was starting to find her life very lonely without it.
The following morning, however, all of these things were put to one side when Louisa received a summons that changed everything. Called in by the butler, a jovial man called Ellis, who was nice to all the servants so long as they covered up the fact that he drank rather more of Mr Guinness’s wine collection than a mere ‘tasting’ would normally allow, Louisa took the telephone in his office. Louisa almost never got rung up and when she did, it was rarely good news, so it was with some trepidation that she spoke into the mouthpiece. ‘Hello, it’s Louisa Cannon here.’
‘Louisa! Thank God you’re there.’ It was Luke, sounding out of breath.
‘Luke? Where are you?’
‘I’m at the station, in Andover. I know I should telephone Diana but I don’t want to see her. Just you. Do you think you could hide me in your room for a bit?’
‘What? No, Luke, I can’t. Why on earth do you need me to do that?’
‘Please, I’ll explain but I can’t do it here, in a public phone box. Can you send Turner to come and pick me up?’
‘Not without telling Mr and Mrs Guinness, no.’
There was a grunt of frustration from Luke. ‘Please, Louisa, I wouldn’t ask if there was anything else I could do.’
‘Take a taxi. I’ve got some money, I’ll pay it when you get here. Ask them to come by the farm entrance. Miss Pamela might see you but Mrs Guinness won’t. I’ll meet you there in half an hour.’
Luke Meyer was running away from something and she had just agreed to be his accomplice. She only hoped she wouldn’t regret it.
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
Louisa was standing by the blue farm gates, shivering in her cloth coat, though the sun was shining. Fortunately, it wasn’t long before she saw a taxi coming along the road. He’d been lucky then – there was only one taxi that served the station in the mornings and you took your chances if it was out on another job. There was no sign of Pamela but it was not yet eleven o’clock, when she usually came in for elevenses (Pam not needing much excuse for a cup of tea and a ginger biscuit). She was likely out in the barns checking they had been properly cleaned after the milking of the cows.
The taxi drew up beside her, Luke got out and Louisa paid the driver. She had to hope Mr Suggs wouldn’t say anything to anyone in the village about the lady’s m
aid up at the big house having a fancy man coming to see her on the sly. For that was how the gossip would go. Luke looked as if he hadn’t slept all night – his hat was crumpled, his suit had a stain on one side, the top three buttons of his shirt were undone and there was no tie to be seen. He wasn’t even wearing a coat.
‘I need a drink,’ he said.
‘Thank you, Louisa, for the taxi, you mean?’
‘God, yes. Sorry. Thank you for the taxi.’ He paused. ‘I need a drink.’
‘I don’t know that that’s a good idea. A bath and a change of clothes is what you need. But you haven’t got anything with you.’
‘No. Let’s get inside and I’ll explain.’
‘Will you see Diana yet?’
‘Looking like this? Not a chance.’ The circles under Luke’s eyes were dark enough to black a grate.
Louisa felt her best chance was to put Luke in Pamela’s kitchen. She might not be best pleased when she returned, but she and Louisa were friends and it would be easier to explain Luke there than in the house. Knocking first, to check Pam wasn’t in, they pushed the door open and went inside. Luke sank into a tatty but comfortable armchair by the kitchen fire – Pam liked to sit there with a dog at her feet, while she read a book in the evening – while Louisa made him a cup of tea and some toast. He ate it like a man denied food for forty days and nights.
‘Now will you tell me what’s happened?’
Wiping the crumbs away and before he’d quite finished his last mouthful, Luke started to explain. ‘I was arrested last night, well, in the early hours of this morning, actually.’
‘Arrested? What for?’ Louisa felt a ball of panic in her chest. Had someone else been on his trail, all the while she and Guy had been trying to work out what had happened?
No.
He sighed and spoke without looking at her. ‘I was in the public lavatory at Covent Garden.’
Louisa looked at him blankly.
‘At one o’clock in the morning. Rather the worse for wear.’ He turned towards her now and raised his eyebrows. She could see she was supposed to read his meaning as he didn’t want to have to say it out loud.
‘Were you arrested for being drunk?’
‘No, Lou! Come on, think. I wasn’t alone … ’
The light switched on. ‘Oh, yes, I see.’ Louisa poured them both a second cup of tea. ‘What happened? Not in the lavatory. With the police.’
‘It was hideous, Louisa. I was in the bogs alone and a man came in and he propositioned me. We … you know. I’m not going to spell it out.’
‘He propositioned you?’
‘Yes! It’s happened before. But this time, afterwards, he arrested me. I didn’t understand what was going on at first, I was laughing, thinking it was part of some game. But then I realized he was a policeman. The bastard meant it and took me down to the station.’
‘Why didn’t you threaten to say what he had done?’
‘Because the balance of power does not exactly lie with me in that situation, does it? And he said if I said anything, he’d make sure I went down for three months with hard labour. In the end, he kept me in a cell for a few hours. I was finally allowed out this morning on bail.’
‘Who paid for it?’
‘I didn’t have to pay, I had to sign something to say I wouldn’t abscond. But I’ve got to go to court in two weeks’ time.’
Louisa looked at him sympathetically. ‘I know it must seem horrible, Luke. But it’s not as if everyone doesn’t know this about you. It’s not going to be a shock to anyone.’
‘It would be to my aunt. She’ll cut me off if she finds out, and she’s all I’ve got.’ He burst into tears then, awful racking sobs, just as Pamela pushed open the back door. It creaked louder than a haunted castle and at least gave them fair warning.
Louisa stood up and rushed over to Pam, dressed in riding breeches as she invariably was. ‘I’m sorry, Miss Pamela,’ she said. ‘Luke Meyer is here. He’s a friend and he needed somewhere to recover from a rather difficult time he’s just had. I couldn’t take him into the house.’
‘I see,’ said Pamela. She walked over to Luke, who had stood up, if rather shakily, wiping the tears away with the backs of his hands. He’d never pass a parade inspection. ‘Have I met you before? You look familiar.’
‘I was at your sister’s wedding,’ said Luke. ‘But we might have met at a party in London? I seem to be at most of them.’ He grimaced; it was probably meant to be a smile.
‘I doubt it, I prefer not to be at most of them,’ said Pamela. She walked briskly to the stove and, having checked there was enough water in it, put the kettle on. ‘Are you going to tell me what happened?’
Louisa and Luke looked at each other and though his face pleaded ‘no’, Louisa answered with a mouthed ‘yes’. Pamela was nothing if not cool in her ability to face facts plainly.
‘It’s a delicate matter,’ she began. ‘Mr Meyer was arrested last night on a public order offence. He’s been released on bail but faces trial.’ Luke, who had sat back down in the chair, was studiously avoiding Pamela’s gaze as Louisa recounted the details. ‘He can’t quite face returning home just yet, because he lives with his aunt, Lady Boyd, and she may—’
‘Die from the shock?’ interrupted Pamela.
Luke’s head snapped round. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘How do you know?’
‘I know what a public order offence means and I know your aunt,’ said Pamela. ‘She designs spectacularly clever menus. She did a dinner for the Harlesdens in Mayfair last June that I went to. The hors d’oeuvres were quails’ eggs with celery salt, the first course was a clear broth with caramelized onion rings floating on the top, the second course was duck à l’orange, the third course was mint sorbet, the fourth course was a chocolate bombe with white chocolate ice cream in the middle.’
Luke was agape. ‘Yes, probably,’ he said at last.
Louisa, almost as an aside, said, ‘Miss Pamela’s recall of menus has legendary status in the family.’ Which made Pam smile.
‘The point is,’ she picked up. ‘You are quite right. She will not understand this débâcle. The question is: does she have to know about it?’
‘I don’t see how she can’t find out,’ he said in small voice. ‘She can be difficult but she’s all I’ve got really. Mother and I don’t speak much, and my father and I don’t speak at all. I’ve no brothers or sisters, nor even cousins I know well. She took me in and has looked after me for years. This is going to go on my record and I can’t promise that it won’t make it into the papers, let alone the grisly prospect of prison. Oh God! I wonder if I shouldn’t admit the whole thing before she finds out elsewhere.’
‘You are in a pickle, aren’t you?’ The kettle was whistling and Pamela took it off and replenished the teapot. Louisa admired Pam’s calm, she had always been the bulwark of the family but even more so now she ran her own show and could indulge in the things she enjoyed; all things that the others teased her were the occupations of a common housewife: cooking, gardening and even cleaning her own house. But she was bright and she understood people, understood perhaps better than all of the sisters the need for a private, inner life that was not necessarily explained to anyone else. She would comprehend Luke’s need to protect himself. ‘When is the trial?’
‘In a fortnight.’
‘Then I suggest you stay down here for a bit until you decide what to do. There is a spare room above the stables, where the groom used to sleep. We don’t have one there any more as the gardener’s boy likes horses, so he’s been taking care of them and he lives in the gardener’s cottage.’
‘What about Mr and Mrs Guinness?’ said Louisa. ‘What will they think if they see Luke here?’
‘Neither of them ever go down to the stables but I think if we cobble together a groom’s outfit – an old pair of trousers and a cap, that sort of thing – they won’t see you. It’s extraordinary how people so often don’t see what is right in front of their own eyes.’
Pamela sipped her tea and regarded him coolly. ‘I shouldn’t worry about that too much. I’m bound to think of something.’
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
Dear Guy,
What I have to write is shocking, please know that I write it down only because I must stick as closely to the facts as I possibly can. LM is down here at Biddesden. He was arrested in the early hours of this morning, on the charge of committing a public order offence in a public lavatory in Covent Garden. He is on bail and there will be a trial in a fortnight. If found guilty, I suppose he will be imprisoned for three months or more.
The poor man. I know what we have suspected of him but I can feel only terrible pity. LM cannot bear the idea of his aunt discovering the charge as she may throw him out. LM lives with her and she is the only family he can depend upon. He telephoned me from the station down here and I had no option but to bring him to the house, though he has seen no one else but Miss Pamela, who kindly suggested he stay in the former groom’s empty room above the stables, more or less in disguise so that Mr and Mrs Guinness do not see him. Just for a few days. He cannot face any company; of course, his friends are aware of his preferences but he is afraid the arrest is shaming. So long as he is here and I can keep a (very) close eye on him, I am sure he is unable to cause any danger.
That said, I am unsure about our theory now. If you could only see him, you would realize he has been destroyed by what happened to him. He doesn’t have the manner of a cold-blooded killer.
Tell me if there’s anything I should do while he is here.
What I’m saying is: write to me.
Yours,
Louisa
Before she had time to regret her last line, Louisa licked the envelope and sealed it, then left the letter in the house’s post box, addressed to Guy at the Knightsbridge police station. She would do as she had promised, and keep a watch on Luke. Having failed to get anything out of him before, except for a defensive reaction, she was hopeful that now he was in a more vulnerable state he would be truthful.
[Mitford Murders 03] - The Mitford Scandal Page 23