[Lord and Lady Calaway 03] - A Murderous Inheritance

by Issy Brooke

  Lady Katharine was staring at Adelia now. “A dark path? What do you mean?”

  Adelia thought she could already see understanding dawning in Lady Katharine’s eyes. The woman was not stupid, after all. Adelia said, “None of this is your fault. As mothers, we think we can control our offspring but there comes a time when other things take over. Their own inclinations, their experience at school, who knows.” She took hold of Lady Katharine’s hands. “We believe that Oscar had a hand in the death of Hartley Knight and that he also ... he also killed John Parker.”

  Lady Katharine moaned.

  Adelia thought she might as well tell her everything now. “And that he has been poisoning Lady Buckshaw for a long time, and that he was about to kill the Dowager Countess too.”

  Lady Katharine squeezed her eyes shut. After a few moments, she said, weakly, “Why don’t I feel anything? Why don’t I feel surprised, or upset? Why am I not crying?”

  “I think it is because you know it is true.”

  “I didn’t know...”

  “I know. But now many things must be making sense to you. And you lied about where Oscar was when Knight was killed. You said he was with you, but he wasn’t. You must have suspected something, even then. I am not saying you’ve covered anything up, but a part of you has always known he’s not quite right.”

  “Why? Why would he do such things?” she whispered.

  “As to that, we are still unsure. However, The Countess has had a hand in all of this. She is as culpable as anyone.”

  “How so?”

  Adelia sighed. “She arranged your marriage to Jacob Brodie, did she not? She knew, even then, he was unsuitable. It seems that she did it as some kind of self-imposed penance for the evil deeds her family had perpetrated upon the Brodie family in the past. The lapis lazuli is all fake and always has been, but some fraud must have been resting upon it – it’s hard to tell, with the records being lost. The trade collapsed, anyway, and no one wanted lapis, real or fake. The family’s fortunes were in tatters in the 1820s.”

  “She was only a girl then.”

  “She was, but she’s quick and clever now and must have been quick and clever then, too. I don’t think she had any hand in what happened next but she witnessed it. The family somehow swindled the Brodies out of vast amount of wealth. Business deals and loans, the paperwork of which is all lost. Bad things happened that led the young woman as she was to think about curses and repayments and how one cannot escape one’s sin.”

  “But the family’s fortunes were restored.”

  “Yes, at the cost of the Brodie family. The Brodies’ ruin was the Seeley-Woods’ gain. And then things must have gone ill for this family too. There were unsuitable matches, the lingering bad air, the swamps and the corruption in the land, the castle appearing to be so fine yet it’s not, is it? This idea of a curse seized The Countess and she decided she could only shake it if she made things up to the Brodies.”

  “This is madness.”

  “Yes, it is. Madness comes in many forms, I am finding. It’s not always the one who is screaming who is the one who is mad. And don’t we tell ourselves stories of our past over and over? And our memories shift over time, you know. That’s what she has done to herself. She married you to Jacob Brodie to make amends for herself in heaven.”

  “The ...”

  “Yes, quite. She was selfish in her actions and you have paid the price for that selfishness. But now we come to Oscar. He knew there was some secret and he felt sure that all The Countess’s silly talk of the curse was linked to the ice house where the lapis lazuli was stored. He grew quite obsessed with it, as far as we can tell. Hartley Knight knew what was in there, and kept an eye on it, as he had been in the family’s service for many years and his loyalty was to The Countess.”

  “Did he know?”

  “Know? I suspect he knew everything. Such servants often do. I also suspect – and this is conjecture until Oscar confirms it – that Knight refused to tell Oscar anything. Who knows what stories Oscar made up in his head? Who knows what he thought Knight was withholding from him? I don’t think it was as mundane as the actual truth. The truth was not worth killing over, but it was a secret, and Oscar had plenty of time on his hands to wonder about it. In the end, Oscar has built it up in his head to something quite serious. And when Knight would not tell him – well, I believe they came to blows, and Knight died.”

  “Could it have been an accident?”

  “We are not sure. Perhaps, but Oscar did push him, and there was poison involved. Oscar can tell us when he wakes up.”

  “Dear Lord. And then – the valet?”

  “It is still a puzzle,” Adelia said. “For we do suspect that Lord Buckshaw was the intended victim.”

  “My own brother! Why would Oscar kill his uncle?” And then Lady Katherine went still, and her eyes flickered as she gazed out of the window. “Oh...”

  “You have an idea?”

  “Yes.” Lady Katharine’s voice was low. She bent her head again, and whispered, “He adored Percy, he really did. But when you and your husband arrived, he paid all his attention instead to him. Every night at dinner, he spoke of nothing but ‘Lord Calaway this’ and ‘Lord Calaway’ that. And when Percy returned, he snubbed Oscar.”

  “I saw that Oscar crowded around with everyone else and Percy did not see him. But there were so many people here. He wasn’t snubbed.”

  “He felt as if he had been. Oscar has always been very fixed in his ideas of who he likes and who he does not like. And Percy’s increasing time away from home has been upsetting Oscar. He felt abandoned, and supplanted by his new wife in Percy’s heart. Once Percy finally fell from favour, he could never regain his position in Oscar’s heart. Percy disappointed him, and that would be it. Oscar would cut him out of his affections. He has always been like this.” Lady Katharine’s voice wobbled. “I liked to see it as a good thing, his determination, you know?”

  “Hmm,” was all Adelia could say to that. “Does that also explain why he has taken against Lady Buckshaw?”

  “Your Felicia? Oh, heavens, I am so sorry, but yes. It is the same reason. He adored Percy so much that when he was married...” A tear dropped from her face.

  Adelia nodded. “I see. Felicia supplanted Oscar in Percy’s affections, as you say. And he wanted her to suffer for it.”

  “Why would he suddenly go after his own grandmother though?” Lady Katharine asked. “She has done nothing different.”

  “Because I suspect that he overheard some discussion between the men as they worked out what was going on, and has realised that her actions, many years ago, lay at the root of many problems but even then I don’t think he worked out the whole reason. Perhaps he hoped to get it out of her, somehow. He may not have meant her harm, but he certainly intended to force the truth from her.”

  “How repellent,” Lady Katharine said in a hiss.

  Adelia wanted to soothe her, reassure her and offer her some explanation or comfort. But she could not. Lady Katharine was realising the depths of her son’s depravity, and that was a journey no one could accompany her on.

  Adelia crossed to the window, letting Lady Katharine absorb the revelations. She spotted three carriages rolling up the driveway. They were dark and official-looking. There was a tap at their own door and Lady Agnes slipped in. She looked carefully at Lady Katharine before raising her eyebrows at Adelia.

  Lady Katharine caught the look, and the meaning. “Yes. Lady Calaway has told me everything.”

  “And do you believe her?”

  Lady Katharine paused for only a split second. “Yes, I do. What is happening now?”

  “The police are here. They will ... do what they need to do.”

  Adelia nodded, grateful for Lady Agnes’s reticence. “How is your mother?” she asked.

  Lady Agnes’s lip curled in distaste. “We’ve put her to bed to rest. A maid is with her. I cannot bear to look at her. Apparently she has suffered sprains and bruise
s to her bones but no fractures. Imagine, at her age! That woman is not cursed and never has been. She is blessed but cannot see it.”

  Lady Katharine said, “I cannot believe she married me to that man for her own conscience’s sake.” Her voice rose, growing firmer and more angry. “I cannot believe I hid away in the gatehouse, scared of society, scared of the world, ashamed of my own weakness, ashamed of my history and my son and my marriage and my widowhood, when all the while it was her! She told me it was all my fault my husband became as he did, and that I had failed and was no longer welcome here. But it was her doing, her fault, her ridiculous secrets. And I know why she kept them, too.”

  “Why?” said Adelia and Lady Agnes at the same time.

  “The same reason I have kept myself to myself,” she replied. “When you are so utterly powerless in the world, all one has left is the control over one’s own voice. One speaks or does not speak at one’s own choice. Secrets are power. We don’t have any other in this world, do we? I have had no power in my life. No say at all over a single solitary aspect of my own being.”

  Adelia nodded, impressed and saddened.

  Lady Katharine surged to her feet. She was like a woman reborn. Rather than cowed and distraught at her son’s fate, she rose like a phoenix, burning with furious passion and righteous anger. “But I will have no more of my life stolen from me!” she declared. “I am going to do something about this.”

  “What?” Adelia said, jumping up.

  “I am taking my own life back,” Lady Katharine said, and she strode out of the room.

  Twenty-nine

  Theodore felt a strange twist of glee in his belly as he watched Inspector Wilbred scurry along beside Commissioner Rhodes. Uniformed policemen were swarming out of the carriages and rippling towards them like a sea of very dark blue. Alongside the mountainous bulk of Rhodes, Inspector Wilbred looked like a pale ginger rat in his manner and his movements. Theodore had to stop himself from smiling smugly in greeting.

  Then Theodore found himself elbowed to one side.

  He coughed in surprise as Percy finally assumed the mantle of Lord Buckshaw and stepped in front of Theodore and the others to formally welcome Commissioner Rhodes onto his property. Theodore wanted to be affronted but he realised he was relieved. Percy and Rhodes swept into the great hall where Doctor Netherfield was still kneeling at the prone form of Oscar Brodie. Theodore noticed Lady Agnes taking The Countess away, supported by Captain Everard. Rhodes waved at a policeman who sprang over to help them – and, no doubt, to question them.

  Brodie groaned and began to twitch.

  They all crowded round him in spite of Doctor Netherfield’s pleas to give the lad some space and air. Within moments, the efficiency of the police force had swung into action and soon Brodie had been hauled onto a stretcher and tied down, and carried out to one of the larger coaches. Doctor Netherfield insisted on accompanying them all, and Theodore was grateful for it. Brodie was slid onto the floor of the coach and Theodore sat on the bench seat along one side next to the doctor. Rhodes, to his surprise, sat opposite, with Wilbred at his side.

  “To Plymouth, and let’s see justice done!” Rhodes declared with delight as if he were on a seaside excursion. The coach lurched and took a moment to get rolling as the horses strained in the traces.

  Brodie stopped groaning for a moment. His eyes opened and blinked rapidly. He coughed hoarsely and whispered, “Water.”

  Wilbred nudged him with his boot. “Shut up.”

  Rhodes kicked Wilbred’s foot out of the way and said, firmly, “Doctor Netherfield. Do whatever you need to do to keep this man alive and in a state to tell us everything.”

  “Water first,” Brodie said.

  He was unstrapped from the upper part of the stretcher and awkwardly propped up so he could sip at some water and before long, he was telling them everything, as if he had been long awaiting the chance, at last, for confession.

  Or at least, his version of a confession.

  “He was stealing, you know,” he started.

  “Who? The valet?”

  Brodie shook his head. “No, that man was only – in the way. No, I mean Knight was stealing, I am sure of it. I did the family a favour. He had stolen all the precious stones, all of your inheritance, and was keeping them in the ice house. He knew everything about it and he wouldn’t tell me a thing. He wouldn’t tell me about the curse. He said there was nothing to tell. But I looked into the family history, you know. There are gaps. Because of him.”

  Theodore rubbed his eyes. Brodie was clever enough to look at the ledgers but too young to work out the truth. Theodore said, “The lapis was fake and everyone knew they were in the ice house although not everyone knew they were fake.”

  “They are not fake,” Brodie said in alarm.

  “They are. I’ve tested them.”

  Brodie frowned. “That was the secret? But why?”

  “That was part of the secret. Knight didn’t know much else. He was right when he said there wasn’t much to tell. It was more smoke and no real fire. You killed him for nothing.”

  “No, no – he knew everything and it wasn’t right that he knew when I didn’t. I am a member of the family.” He gnawed his lip. “Aren’t I?”

  “Yes, you are. That’s not the secret. I’m telling you, there is very little real secret, but you’ve built it up in your head to become something more. You had doubts about your lineage, didn’t you – is that why you were taking The Countess off into the tower?”

  He snarled. “Yes. I was going to make her tell me everything. I’d tell her I’d throw her off the tower if she wouldn’t talk to me. It’s not fair that I don’t know. Everyone else knows!”

  Theodore shuddered. It could have been a mere threat, or he could have truly meant it.

  Brodie went on. “Knight wouldn’t tell me anything and then he couldn’t. As he was dead. She knew something about my past that she wasn’t going to reveal. I heard you all talking, you know, but I didn’t hear everything. I knew it was to do with my father. I don’t understand why I wasn’t allowed to know. So I assumed... well, I don’t know. I didn’t want to jump to conclusions,” he added.

  Theodore snorted. “Everything you’ve done has been based on a spurious conclusion to which you’ve jumped.”

  “I don’t see how.” He sounded petulant though his throat must have been sore, his voice rasping.

  “You wouldn’t see how, no.” That was Doctor Netherfield, his eyes shining with professional curiosity. He had a notebook in his hands and was scribbling frantically. “You are affected by a very inward-looking mania that passes the outside real world through a kind of sieve so that you only see the things that match your very secret internal desires, you see.”

  “Er, what?” Rhodes said.

  Wilbred sniggered, probably at the word “desires.”

  Netherfield turned to Rhodes. “You think the lady in your care is mad. She is not. Witness here a truly unhinged mind indeed.”

  “Oh. So we can’t hang him?”

  The doctor pursed his lips in distaste. “The law can do as the law pleases,” he said stiffly. “I am here to keep the man alive but what happens to him later is up to you, justice and the Good Lord Himself.”

  “What about Felicia?” Theodore said, interrupting them both, and speaking to Brodie. Even though he knew that Brodie’s logic was flawed and twisted, he felt he had to know why his daughter had been targeted so constantly and so cruelly. “We know what you did to her.”

  “Do we?” said Rhodes, looking at Wilbred, who shrugged.

  Brodie pinched up his face. “I’ve done nothing.”

  “You’ve been slowly poisoning her. Why?”

  Brodie shook his head, slowly and almost rhythmically like he was a snake dancing to a tune, his shoulders and upper body swaying with the movement. “She didn’t fit the place. She shouldn’t have been here at all. She was bad for my Lord. Made him weak. Then he left, to get away from her. I thought I shoul
d get rid of her and he’d come back. She was always complaining, always seeing things.”

  “Seeing things? Seeing you, you mean, seeing you creep around,” Theodore said.

  “She wasn’t right for the castle.”

  “Don’t speak of her in the past tense.”

  “She isn’t dead?”

  Theodore wanted to strike the cad. “By Heavens, no! She is recovering.”

  Brodie’s expression now was of pure hatred. Theodore stopped asking him about his feelings towards Felicia. They were written on his face, and such strong emotion could have no rational explanation. It consumed Brodie and would have become an evil thing over the months and years. Any explanation he gave now, in hindsight, would be a poor attempt to justify the unjustifiable. There was nothing to be gained from letting him speak further on the matter. But one thing was puzzling him. He said, “You wrote to Percy before the first murder, didn’t you?”

  Oscar shook his head.

  “You did. I have seen the letter; he showed it to me on his return. It was in a dark-coloured envelope, the same as you used after the murder. You wrote anonymously to warn him of Felicia’s illness, didn’t you?”

  Oscar sighed. But Theodore knew he was correct, and decided to drop the matter.

  Rhodes jumped into the silence that Theodore left. “So why did you kill Buckshaw’s valet, what?”

  Brodie stopped swaying and hung his head. He did not reply.

  “He is ashamed of it,” Doctor Netherfield said, still making notes. “He had no hesitation in speaking of what he did to Knight nor confessing, in his own way, to the poisoning of Lady Buckshaw. But this must have been an accident. You did not mean to kill the valet, did you? As we thought all along – the main target was indeed Lord Buckshaw himself.”

  “But why?” Theodore said.

  “He’s mad, that’s why,” Rhodes announced.

  “It is a little more complex in nature,” Netherfield said. “But essentially that’s it.”