He wore a mournful look as he gazed around his audience. “I must have run through a thousand solutions in my head, but it was Christopher who finally showed me what I was missing. I was obsessed by the idea that Maitland had caught sight of the killer on his way from the terrace to the ballroom, but if that was the case, why hadn’t he told the police? Neither my son, nor my faithful retainer knew the identity of their assailant and yet they were both targeted. In Maitland’s case, he was merely a stooge; his murder was a smokescreen to distract from more significant evidence. But it was what Fellowes didn’t see that made him a target.
“When Belinda died and my world felt like it had disintegrated beneath my feet, I imagined a scenario so completely void of sense that I put it out of my mind until this afternoon. There was a solution to the crime that felt logical to me but would have involved such planning and vitriol that I didn’t want to believe it possible.”
His voice faltered. “I can see now that we haven’t been investigating a murder, so much as eliminating every last possibility to confirm that the one which seemed impossible really was correct. There is a person sitting at this table who has spent years plotting to destroy me and take Cranley Hall for herself.”
I noticed my father seize hold of his fork then and grip it in his fist, like a condemned man before his last meal. Cora let out a pained cry and, as if by prior arrangement, the room fell quiet for Lord Edgington to reveal the truth.
“Clementine, as I’ve already mentioned, I’ve always enjoyed your performances, your little songs, your eccentricities. When exactly did you take on this role?”
Great-Aunt Clementine’s face bloomed into life, as if she was happy to be asked such a question. Instead of responding, she started in on another verse of her song.
“We used to have two tiny dogs,
Such pretty little dears.
But Daddy sold ‘em ‘cause they used
To bite each other’s ears.”
“You can play the fool all you like, woman,” my grandfather continued in a wrathful tone. “It’s been standing you in good stead for years, but I know that you’re guilty. You’ve never forgiven me for taking your husband’s inheritance. The opportunity to wipe out my family in one go was too good to resist. When that failed, you killed Maitland in order to frame Walter, who you’d spotted in the petit salon just before you put the cyanide in the champagne. You knew that no one would suspect a mad old lady. You’re so much like a ghost these days that we barely notice you floating about the place and that was the perfect cover.”
If Clementine had heard his accusation, she didn’t let on.
“I cried all day: at eight each night,
Papa sent me to bed.
When Ma came home and wiped my eyes,
I cried again and said…”
Grandfather was not distracted and continued laying out the evidence against his sister-in-law. “Of course, you were doing all this for Cora, not yourself. She’s the one who would inherit Cranley if you got caught or died. So you weren’t about to murder the man she loved now, were you?”
She wouldn’t give in, but continued her whimsical act, like a naughty child who won’t admit to a mistake. “Daddy wouldn’t buy me a bow-wow! Bow wow!”
His voice rose with his anger. “When we came to your house to speak to her, Cora mentioned that she keeps no secrets from you. You knew all about her relationship with Fellowes and no doubt encouraged her to tempt him outside on the night of the ball.” Cora let out her sharpest note of the evening then, which served to confirm Grandfather’s theory. “But there was a problem. When Fellowes returned to the house, you weren’t asleep in the petit salon where Christopher and Walter had previously noticed you. He saw no one, and you were afraid that the police would latch on to this fact, so another person had to suffer.”
“I’d rather have a bow-wow, wow, wow, wow, wow.” The confidence had gone from her voice and she finally looked up at her inquisitor.
“There were any number of substances which could have done the job. Though, from the floral adornment to your dress that night, I assume that you crushed delphinium seeds in the whisky you poured Fellowes when the inspector called us together in the smoking room. The house was swamped with the darned flowers after Christopher ordered so many to decorate the ball.”
Grandfather cast me a brief glance then turned his attention back to the killer. “With the amount of time you once spent tending to your gardens at Langford House, I dare say you learnt a fair bit about horticulture and even pharmacology. Enough to extract cyanide from greengage stones, at least. Everyone knows that apple pips contain amygdalin, but those innocent-looking plums in your garden are many times deadlier if prepared correctly.
“But poisoning Fellowes was a fruitless act; I’d already spoken to him before he got sick. If anything, it provided me with the evidence I needed to prove your guilt. Though I didn’t see the significance at the time, delphiniums cause irritation to the skin and you blackened your fingers when you extracted the seeds. Again it was Christopher who had spotted the grubby marks when we visited you the following day.”
All eyes jumped to Clementine’s hands and, in a moment of self-consciousness, she hid the now dark bruises beneath the table cloth.
“And I have to give it to you, shooting Maitland certainly threw me off your trail. I’m sure that the years you spent taking archery classes with your granddaughter made you a whiz with a crossbow and I should have considered you more carefully. Instead, I delved into Maitland’s life, his debts, dalliances and dilemmas, but it could have been anyone you shot out there. You didn’t care who you hurt, as long as we couldn’t trace the murders back to you. You killed Maitland and poisoned Fellowes just to cover your trail.”
He allowed the words to linger and we watched as Clementine searched the room for someone to defend her.
Her granddaughter would not be that person. “How could you, Grandmother? How could you be so evil?”
My mother was just as shocked. “How could you possess so much hatred for your own family?”
“I…” Clementine screeched, but the sound faded out again just as abruptly.
Grandfather hadn’t finished. “You went all those years without your mask slipping, but you made a mistake. By pushing Walter as the culprit when we spoke at your house, you were too alert, too aware of what had occurred on the night of Belinda’s death for the rest of your mumming to hold true.”
He stopped for a moment and looked almost impressed by her. “If you’d simply planted Walter’s cigar ash in the armoury and hidden the second crossbow beneath his bed before you murdered Maitland, I might have believed your ruse. But you pushed your advantage and gave yourself away. So, I’ll ask you again, for how long have you been playing the part of the helpless old lady?”
The cycle of emotions she’d been going through had reached an unexpected conclusion. She jutted out her chin, sat up in her chair and was suddenly a different person. “Oh, I’d say I’ve been at it for about a decade. I found that people were so quick to dismiss an old widow that I could get away with all sorts. In fact, it started not so very long before your dear wife Katherine died.” In the light of the chandelier, a malevolent glint sparkled in her eyes.
I gasped then as a realisation settled within me. There were no more surprises to come; Clementine was our killer and she was entirely unrepentant for what she’d done. I turned to my grandfather to see the look of horror on his face. He gripped the edge of the table as though he could no longer support his own weight. His utter dejection was mirrored in Cora’s, but neither said a word. The reality they were facing was too terrible to bear.
“But why?” George managed to ask on their behalf, before his jaw fell slack.
“Tell us!” I whispered, my voice shaking.
Clementine’s gaze hadn’t left my grandfather and the corners of her mouth turned up proudly. “You took m
y whole life from me and so I took your wife from you. I put a little aconitine in dear Kathryn’s tea one day, when she oh so generously came round for a visit. She was back at home with you when her symptoms began and almost dead by the time the doctor could diagnose a heart attack. I poisoned the woman you treasured and you, the great Superintendent Edgington, suspected nothing.”
Her words had silenced the room once more. I had never witnessed such contempt. The only comfort I could find was that, one way or another, the wretched creature would die in gaol.
“I thought that my retribution was complete when you retreated from the world, but alas you would not stay dead.” As she was speaking, she pulled her glass of wine close to her. I failed to realise her purpose but my grandfather saw it immediately.
“Fellowes, stop her!” He shouted and the butler shot forward to wrestle the glass away.
Her conceited attitude had dissipated and she let out a doleful cry. “No. Let me die!”
My mother gripped the old woman’s bony wrist so that a small paper sachet, of what I had to assume was cyanide, dropped from her grasp. She looked at her aunt in disgust and delivered her staccato response one condemnatory word at a time. “You deserve no such mercy.”
“I didn’t steal your life from you,” Grandfather took a step forward to direct his comment at Clementine. “My brother’s death was a tragedy and I’m sorry that my parents were so old-fashioned that they wouldn’t allow his widow and child to inherit this place. But you went from being obscenely wealthy to only filthy rich and that doesn’t excuse your contemptible actions.”
“I was humiliated!” A single tear appeared in the corner of Clementine’s right eye. “Thrown off the estate that should have passed to my child. Out of sight and out of mind, we were abandoned by your family to rot. You treat your darned dog better than that, so I did what I had to for the sake of my granddaughter.”
Cora stifled her sobs and delivered a stinging rebuke. “No, you didn’t! You murdered three people and poisoned the man I love for your own petty jealousies.” She brushed her short fringe from her face to fix her once beloved grandmother with a reproachful stare. “I hope that the pain you caused reflects back upon you for the rest of your days.”
With this bitter proclamation, the room came to life. Grandfather collapsed back into his seat, Inspector Blunt called to his constables and my mother and father embraced, the relief palpable as it flowed between them.
When the officers clapped my murderous great-aunt in handcuffs and escorted her from the room, there was no joy to be found in her fate. A great evil had befallen my family, which no punishment could make up for.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
I was quite honestly overwhelmed by everything that I’d seen. I sat right where I was as my companions cried and commiserated. Blunt did not thank us for what we had discovered, or apologise to my parents for arresting the wrong suspect. Instead, he made a begrudging nod of recognition in my Grandfather’s direction before following his subordinates from the room.
Horatio Adelaide was the next to leave. Looking as though he still had his doubts, he approached the old man and said, “Lord Edgington, I very much enjoyed the evening and have a feeling we’ll cross paths again before long.”
My grandfather could not find it in himself to reply but bowed his head solemnly and the enigmatic character made his way out, followed by my cousin George.
“Must run, Grandfather,” he said with a confident smile. “I’m eager to discuss a business arrangement with old Adelaide, but I’ve had a wonderful time.” He delivered the remark with all his usual flippant charm, then frowned for a moment before sidling off.
Fellowes thanked the old man several times for all he had done. Cora, her makeup a runny mess, embraced her great-uncle and apologised keenly for her grandmother’s actions. And then it was my parents’ turn.
“I don’t know what to say, Daddy,” Mother began.
“I do.” My father had regained his usual quiet authority and his clothes even looked a little smarter somehow. “You saved me. Ten hours in a police cell was enough to last a lifetime. Thank you so much for getting me out.”
“We’ll be here until tomorrow morning if there’s anything you need.” Mother’s voice wavered and she hastily bustled her husband from the room before her tears could break loose.
I enjoyed a moment of silence but then my father rushed back inside and I thought he might actually hug me. I needn’t have worried.
“Chrissy,” he said and I could tell how difficult it had been for him to get this much out. “I should thank you too. I know you didn’t catch the killer but you gave it a heck of a good try and…” Such enthusiasm did not come naturally to him. He cleared his throat and concluded his appraisal with an outstretched hand and a few final words. “And, well… I’m really rather proud of you.”
I was practically speechless by this point and couldn’t do much more than accept the offer and shake his hand. He patted me on the shoulder and ran off after Mother with some of his energy restored.
My grandfather and I were finally alone and the atmosphere in the room changed once more. He hadn’t said anything since he concluded his testimony and now sat staring at the sparkling crystal droplets which hung from the chandelier.
I wanted to say something to make him feel better, but I knew there were no words that could repair the damage that had been done. I watched as he pursed his lips together and breathed in deeply, his prodigious moustache moving a fraction as the air whistled past it.
I realised something then that had taken me far too long. My grandfather had been so focussed on the investigation that he hadn’t let his emotion for the loss of his children cloud his judgement. Now that it was over, every imaginable feeling came rushing at him. Anguish and misery, pain and relief bombarded him and, sitting just a few chairs away, I felt it too.
He folded his arms on the table in front of him and rested his head there. I thought about putting my arm around him or thanking him for all he had taught me, but I knew this was something for which he needed no assistant. Softly pulling back from the table, I made my way from the room and went to tell the staff not to disturb him.
I’d already missed a day of school after the bank holiday and decided one more wouldn’t hurt. I slept in the next morning and, once I’d said farewell to my parents, spent the afternoon in the sunny gardens, throwing a ball to Delilah and looking out for woodpeckers. I didn’t dare visit my grandfather, though there were a million things I wanted to ask him as I wiled away the time, dreaming of the summer holidays and coming up with a list of adventures we could have.
I had my supper in the kitchen. Cook and Alice seemed most impressed that I’d helped to catch the killer, and everyone speculated over what Fellowes might do now that his illicit love affair was common knowledge. Todd offered to drive me back to school the following morning and it was with a mix of sadness and excitement that I accepted.
Alone in my room that night, I had trouble sleeping. My head was filled with all the evidence I’d overlooked and I wrote up my case notes so that, were I ever to be in such a situation again, I might learn from my mistakes. Point number one was…
Never underestimate the elderly!
It wasn’t just my embarrassing failure that stayed with me, I was still recovering from the vicarious thrill of assisting my grandfather’s investigation. My head, like my notebook, was crammed full of so many disparate thoughts and ideas, it’s a wonder that I ever fell asleep.
The morning eventually arrived, however, and, after passing up the offer of one final breakfast from Cook and packing my few transportable possessions into my Gladstone bag, I headed off to find Todd.
“Good morning, Christopher. Do you mind if I walk with you?” Grandfather was in the garden waiting for me as I stepped outside. I didn’t really think anything of it at the time but he had his silk top hat and
his amethyst cane with him which he’d carried at the ball.
As a good alumnus of Oakton Academy, I tried to keep my emotions in check and not show how much this meant to me, but… well, I failed rather miserably.
“Oh! Grandfather you came to see me off?” I positively launched myself at him and gave him the biggest hug I could manage. “I was worried I wouldn’t see you before I left.”
If this had been almost any other family member, I’ve no doubt they would have gone running for a doctor to find out what was wrong with me. But then, my grandfather wasn’t quite like anyone else.
“I couldn’t let my trusty assistant go without saying goodbye.” He patted me on the arm and I finally pulled back from him.
“Are you feeling…” I searched for the right word, but apparently it didn’t exist. “…better?”
He spun on the spot in the direction of Todd’s garage and I padded along beside him.
“I’m not sure that I’ll ever feel better about the murder of my wife and two children, but I’m feeling…” It was his turn to run dry. “…alive, at the very least.”
“That’s jolly good,” I said, sounding more like my stony father than I’d intended.
I’d been considering some of the finer points of the case since our killer had been revealed and there were so many things I wanted to ask him, but wasn’t quite sure where to begin.
“What a sumptuous day and what a beautiful world we live in!” He looked up at the sky as he spoke and even in this jubilant proclamation there was a mournful note.
“Grandfather, would you mind explaining something?” As the now experienced assistant to a famous detective, I decided this sounded a little weak so quickly made it right. “I mean, I understand most of what went on over the last few days but there are a few minor details I’d rather like refreshing in my mind.”
Murder at the Spring Ball: A 1920s Mystery Page 22