The Convenient Murder

by Clare Jayne

“The library where Lord Strand was killed?” Ishbel asked.

  “Yes,” he said. “He told me Lord Strand was not there when he went downstairs and that he did not see him after the dinner party ended. If he was lying then he would certainly have had the chance to commit the murder, as would Mr Gell or even Lady Tabor.”

  “What about Lady Strand and her son?”

  “Lady Strand’s maid said that she retired to bed directly after the dinner party and seemed to be in low spirits. Her son was still awake and dressed when his valet left at around one in the morning. Neither of them was seen outside their bed chamber but they could have waited until the servants finished work to go downstairs.”

  There was little else to report, since they had made no progress so far on the theft. They returned home to find Jed Cassell waiting for them, which was unexpected, since she had not expected that he would be able to discover anything so quickly. He was helping with both the murder and the theft at Lady Strand’s house so she was curious as to which of these he had made progress with.

  They ordered some refreshments be brought to them and took him into the drawing room, where a bright fire added warmth and colour to the room. Ewan had insisted after their marriage that she should do anything she wished to make herself feel at home in the house and, after seeking Harriette’s advice, she bought a few items for her bed chamber and to liven up this room as well as contributing fifty or more books to the library. The oriental rug in here was one she and Ewan had chosen together, as was the chaise longue and the changes had indeed made her more comfortable in the house, as Ewan had wanted. She felt a moment of satisfaction as she looked around before she sat down and concentrated on their guest.

  Ewan asked Jed, “Have you found out anything useful?”

  “Aye, sir. I hope so. It turns out that Mr McIntoll lost a family heirloom – a valuable antique – to Lord Strand about a month before the murder in a card game and his lordship refused to sell it back to him.”

  Ishbel thought about this. “If Mr McIntoll was willing to risk the item in a game of chance, it seems unlikely that he cared enough about it to kill to get it back.”

  “It says something about his relationship with Lord Strand, though, that despite their years of friendship, Lord Strand would take something that mattered to McIntoll.”

  “That is true.” She remembered their meeting with the gentleman. “But Mr McIntoll told us himself that Lord Strand was a difficult person to get on with and that his own concern was largely for the welfare of the family.”

  “Mr McIntoll has visited them a good many times lately,” Jed told them, “although neither son nor mother seem in particular need of cheering up. The new Lord Strand, in particular, has been wasting some of his inheritance on betting and the lower kind of theatrical performances. They havena been showing any sign of grief.”

  “The new Lord Strand seems to be the most likely killer to me, but there is no shortage of people who could be responsible,” Ishbel said and then told Jed, “We visited Mr Williamson, who is looking into the murder for the king, and he found out that Lady Tabor, Mr Gell and Mr McIntoll all went downstairs during the night, while Lady Strand and her son could easily have left their rooms later in the night to commit the deed.”

  “They all had a chance to murder Lord Strand,” Ewan said, “but I agree with you that his son seems the only one with a strong reason to do so. The new Lord Strand was treated badly by his father and has now inherited great wealth.”

  “Do you want me to see what I can find out about him?” Jed watched the tea being poured out as he spoke and gladly accepted a china plate with a scone on it from a footman.

  “Yes,” Ishbel said, “but do not stop looking into the lives of Lady Tabor, Mr McIntoll and Mr Gell. It might turn out that one of them did have a good reason to commit the crime and we have simply not yet discovered it.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  MISS CHIVERTON was happy to see that Mr Gell was not in attendance at the dinner party she and her family were attending that evening. She hoped his interest might be waning. She was not pleased, however, to find Mr McDonald approaching her. He bowed and she made a quick curtsy.

  “You must be glad to have your brother home again.”

  “Extremely, and you certainly did not waste time in asking him to chastise me over my friendship with Mr Gell.” She had been simmering at the idea of this since Eddie had mentioned it.

  “You cannot wish to spend time with that gentleman,” Mr McDonald said.

  She glared at him. “I am capable of choosing for myself where I bestow my company.”

  “You are too young to recognise a fortune hunter...”

  She interrupted yet another lecture on how her age made her unable to make any kind of sensible decision and how she should, apparently, be glad to be enlightened by him. “...Then you think he could have no real liking for me? That I have no appeal save for my family’s money?”

  “Of course I did not mean such a thing!” The strength of feeling in this reaction might have been flattering in another situation but she was too angry to do more than note it. “I would never...”

  “... Excuse me, sir,” she said curtly, “but my family requires my presence and I am sure you can find acquaintances whose company you do not find tedious. Since you find my character deficient in every way, there is no need for you to spend any part of the evening with me.”

  She caught sight of his expression as she stalked off and was startled by how troubled he looked. She gave it no thought at the time, since she was accosted by several female friends. The evening included no dancing which, for once, she was glad of, since it meant she could enjoy exchanging news with people she got along with instead of worrying about the wrong person asking her to dance and what more they might want from her.

  Eddie arrived a little while later, resplendent in blue silk and velvet. Her family could not publicly show their distaste for him so Fiona was able to spend some time with him and hear more of what he had seen and done while travelling. Her mother, too, seemed to take pleasure in this opportunity, although Papa too soon called them back to his side.

  Before she left, Eddie said quietly to her, “McDonald might seem like a placid sort of fellow, but he is fond of you. Try not to make him too unhappy.”

  She shot her brother a surprised look and glanced across the room to where Mr McDonald did indeed seem in particularly low spirits. It was a shock to realise that any words by her could affect him in this way and she felt a pang of guilt, her earlier annoyance having lessened. She was not usually so quick to lose her temper and wondered why it was that she never seemed able to remain calm when speaking to Mr McDonald.

  As she rejoined the rest of her family and the guests walked to the dining room to begin the meal, it occurred to her that a lot of the comments from Mr McDonald that she had taken for unwanted reprimands might have been somewhat clumsy attempts to help her navigate her way through society’s rules. She remembered the way he had saved her from the potentially severe repercussions of her tactless interview with Lady Tabor – where he had stopped Lady Tabor complaining to Fiona’s father – and wished she had not been so rude to him earlier. She also thought about Eddie suggesting Mr McDonald as a husband and wondered if this could possibly be something Mr McDonald wished for. Surely not. He had never behaved in any manner that hinted at affection or courtship, or not that she had noticed, but then he had known her for years through his friendship with Eddie, so he might not have felt such behaviour was appropriate. For a moment it occurred to her to wonder what manner of husband he might make for her, but then she dismissed the idea as too peculiar.

  She was not at all sure he even had such feelings for her and, if he did, it was unfortunate since she could never view him in such a way.

  She glanced at where he was taking his seat at the dining table, across from her but some distance away. He was making no effort to converse with the women on either side of his chair, which was unusual when
he was normally so courteous, and he did indeed look miserable.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  JED CASSELL had finished his work for the day and was heading through the High Street towards his home and the pleasant promise of dinner. He had got nowhere asking round about anyone trying to fence Lady Strand’s goods and so he had hired a young lad to keep an eye on several shops that he suspected a thief might approach with stolen items.

  He heard his name called and looked round, smiling at young man walking towards him. Billy had been accepted as a caddie five months after him, so Jed had taught him a bit about the job and they had become friends. Billy was a friendly fellow, more outgoing than Jed, and sometimes working for free for those who needed help but could not afford to pay for it. “I’m glad I saw you,” Billy said, falling into step beside him. “I heard from the others that you’re looking into a gent by the name of Gell.”

  “Aye. You’ve heard something?”

  “This is about that murder that involved poison?”

  “That’s right.”

  “I saw him just now visiting the home of a physician. Not the office, as a patient would normally do, but the house. I was lighting the way for a guest to the city but, when I was free, I checked that it was definitely the physician Gell was visiting – since it’s a boarding house where several gents live – and not only found out that it was but also that Gell is a regular visitor. If you’re searching for the poison used, it struck me that this could lead to it.”

  “Aye, it could.” Jed slapped the man’s back. “That was a clever thought.”

  “Is there anything else you need looked into for this? I’ve been a bit short of money lately.” Billy was married with his first child on the way.

  Jed thought about it. With this new theft business, he had not had much time to find out about the people Mr and Mrs MacPherson suspected of the murder. “Would you be able to keep an eye on Lady Tabor?” Jed told the man where she and her husband lived. “I’d be interested in knowing what she does and who she visits, during the evenings as well as the days. I’ll check on the others.”

  “No problem.” Jed held out a coin to him but Billy refused to take it. “I havena done anything yet.”

  “Mr MacPherson has paid me well and ruling out someone they suspect is nearly as valuable to them as finding the guilty party. It’s your time that’s being paid for, not the result – just give it two or three days and tell me what you see.”

  Billy took the coin and stored it carefully in the pocket of his jacket, beneath his work apron. “I will. Thanks.”

  * * *

  “Of all our suspects, it seems as if only Lord Strand’s family gained anything from his death,” Ishbel said to Ewan over luncheon the next day. “Mr Gell had wanted Lord Strand to invest money with him, so the murder could not have been less desirable. Mr McIntoll lost a valuable item to Lord Strand at cards but that hardly seems a strong enough reason to kill him, not when he had known Lord Strand for decades and presumably endured such unkind behaviour before. We still know little of Lady Tabor’s relationship with Lord Strand... I wish we were able to interview her.”

  Ewan took a sip of wine before answering. “After the way she reacted to Miss Chiverton’s questions on the matter, it seems unlikely that Lady Tabor would tell us anything of a personal nature. She did not even tell Mr Williamson anything.” The King’s Messenger had confirmed that he had spoken to her about Lord Strand and that she had just repeated her previous claim of having only a slight acquaintanceship with him. “It is a shame we could not have been present when Lord Strand’s body was found. We might have learnt a lot more.”

  “Yes. Miss Chiverton and Mr McDonald told us everything they could but they had no authority to prevent the guests leaving the next day, which has given everyone plenty of time to assume an air of innocence.”

  “And, I imagine, to get rid of the vial of poison,” Ishbel said, using a napkin to dab at her mouth while a footman took the empty plates away. “Still, we know that the killer planned the murder in advance in order to have the poison available, so this was not a crime borne of sudden anger, and we know that Lord Strand treated his wife and son badly and that they have been showing no grief over his death.”

  “One of them could have done it,” Ewan agreed, “but we have no proof.”

  “But if we assume that it is one of them, we should be able to find a way to prove it. Perhaps we could trick their family physician into admitting that he provided one of them with poison; I can think of no other way for them to obtain it, without employing someone else to buy it for them, which would be too risky.”

  Ewan was considering how to approach the physician when Mr McDonald was announced and followed the butler into the room. He had a distracted air as he greeted them both and Ishbel raised an eyebrow at Ewan before leaving them alone to talk.

  Ewan asked for a glass of wine to be brought to his guest and he resumed his seat in front of the dining table, McDonald sitting a couple of seats away.

  “I must seek your help,” McDonald said at once, “and that means telling you something that I imagine will be a considerable surprise to you.” He took in a fortifying breath. “I am in love with Miss Chiverton.”

  Ewan tried to assume surprise. “Is that so? How unexpected.”

  McDonald stared at him. “You knew?”

  “Yes,” Ewan admitted, letting his features fall back into their normal positions. “She is really the only lady you have shown any marked interest in, despite the arguments between the two of you.”

  McDonald slumped back in his chair. “I think I have ruined any possible chance I might have had with her. I was jealous of her encouragement of Mr Gell’s attention and alarmed by it since I do not trust the man, and I handled the matter badly. Every time I talk to her I seem to make her angry, I do not know why.”

  “I think that Miss Chiverton has felt too strongly ruled by her family and wishes to have some measure of independence. Perhaps she has misconstrued your well-meaning attempts to help her as unwanted interference.”

  “Yes.” The fresh glasses of wine were put in front of the men and McDonald drowned most of his in one swallow. “I believe you are correct. She sees me as someone who is always finding fault with her behaviour and that is the last thing I ever intended. I think she is perfect – I have no desire to see her change; I simply wanted to spare her from the difficulties of offending the wrong people. And I could never abide to see her smiling at another gentleman, but I suppose I will have to. She will doubtless agree to marry some handsome young twit and that will be that.” He finished off his wine and Ewan discreetly gestured for the footman to bring more, since it was clearly required.

  “McDonald, I do not know if Miss Chiverton could ever return your affection but I would like to pass on the excellent advice you gave me last year. You should let her know how you feel: pay her compliments; send her flowers. If she is the lady who can make you happy then you should do everything in your power to win her affection because you can take it from me that there is nothing better in the world than being married to the woman you love.”

  McDonald downed his second glass of wine and his expression became resolute. “You are right. I will do what you say.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  “MISS CHIVERTON, I would be honoured beyond words if you would do me the great honour of agreeing to be my wife.”

  Fiona carefully removed her hand from the gentleman’s grip as he stood in front of her in the small room she and her mother used for sewing. “It is good of you to make me this offer...”

  “... Not at all. I am of the right age to marry and my family name is a good one. We will have an enjoyable life together.”

  He tried to put his arms round her and Fiona backed away, nearly tripping over a coffee table. “Mr Gell, you misunderstand me. I am grateful for the offer but I cannot marry you.”

  “Of course you will. That was the entire purpose of my courtship of you.”

&
nbsp; “We spoke only a handful of times.”

  “But you encouraged my attentions,” he said with bewilderment and she realised that both her brother and Mr McDonald had tried to warn her of the result of what she had done. She had not expected a few friendly words to have such a disastrous effect. “You enjoyed my company. You must have an affection for me.”

  “We shared the distressing experience of Lord Strand’s death and I could not forget about it. That was why I wanted to speak to you.”

  “But we spoke of many other subjects and shared dances. If this is a maidenly shyness on your part and you need more time, I can wait.”

  “It is not.” She hoped this would be an end to the meeting but, when he spoke again, she realised he could not be dismissed so easily and she grew more ill at ease.

  “If someone has spoken to you against me, they can have only told you lies. I might not be the wealthiest of men but your family has enough money of its own – more than enough – and I am a thoroughly respectable choice for you.”

  “I am sure that is all true...”

  “... Then you must reconsider.” He tried to take her hand again and she pulled it out of his grip.

  “I will not. I think you should leave, Mr Gell.”

  The shocked expression on his handsome face darkened into something else. Something ugly. “I think you have behaved in a shameless manner. I see now that you were never worthy of my attentions, so I will bid you good day.”

  He gave her a stiff bow and turned and stalked out.

  She collapsed into a chair and put a hand over her stomach, where her stays made it difficult for her to breath.

  A minute later Anne hurried into the room. She was the last person Fiona wanted to deal with right now. “There you are. You should have called for me if you had a male visitor. I cannot think what Henry will say when he hears that you were all alone with a man.”

  Fiona had intended to have her maid act as chaperone but Mr Gell had asked to have a private interview and, guessing what he intended, Fiona had hoped that granting him a private audience would mean her family did not have to learn of the proposal. She should have known better. No one was allowed secrets here. In fact, she realised with horror, convention would have demanded that he already speak to her father about his proposal, so she had deceived no one.