‘It would have made any father angry,’ said the hotel proprietor, quite oblivious to the unintentional pun, though it brought a smile to Rose’s lips. ‘We know you flew into a violent rage,’ continued Mr Kettering. He had conjured up a vivid picture in his mind and now he ran with it. In fact, so real was it in his imagination, he might have been an unobtrusive observer of the quarrel between father and daughter, watching the events unfold before him.
‘Yes’ said Father Adler, distractedly. ‘I suppose I must have raised my voice.’ He gave a wan smile. ‘And now I come to think of it, I remember trembling. I put my hand out and discovered it was shaking. Mabel was quite frightened of me and I think even I was a trifle scared. I don’t recall ever feeling such anger against a fellow as I did towards Dewhurst that night. I wasn’t myself. It was almost as if I was someone else.’
‘Miss Adler told us that you threatened to kill Mr Dewhurst,’ Rose said quietly.
‘Did I?’ For a fleeting moment, Father Adler looked surprised. ‘I suppose I must have done, if Mabel says I did. Really, I can’t recall exactly what I said. I was in something of a daze. I do remember finding myself on the path that runs past the tennis courts and wondering how I had got there.’
‘Oh?’ Rose said sharply. ‘Then you didn’t go to Mr Dewhurst’s rooms? If you went past the tennis courts, as you say, you must have been making for the cliff path.’ She leaned forward a little in her chair, trying to contain her growing excitement. ‘Was he there? Did you find Mr Dewhurst standing on the edge of the cliff?’
‘Oh, yes,’ said the vicar, ‘and I meant to give him a piece of my mind, I can tell you.’
‘And then,’ said Mr Kettering, not to be out done, ‘a few hours later he rolled up dead on the beach where I, myself, found him.’
‘Are you saying you didn’t give him a piece of your mind?’ said Rose, as if the hotel proprietor had not spoken. She fervently wished that Mr Kettering would hold his tongue, particularly as it appeared the vicar was on the verge of confessing to the murder of Alec Dewhurst.
‘I know I would have done if it had been my daughter he was carrying on with,’ continued Mr Kettering helpfully.
‘Oh, do you have a daughter?’ asked the vicar. ‘Is she on Skiathos? I can’t say I’ve ever met her.’
‘Father Adler,’ Rose said, trying to return the vicar’s thoughts to the matter in hand. ‘This is terribly important. Did you strike Mr Dewhurst?’
‘I felt pretty shaken up by it all, I don’t mind telling you,’ said the vicar hesitantly, ‘I recall being in a bit of a daze and then, suddenly, I wasn’t. Mr Dewhurst was standing before me in the distance looking out to sea. I remember I quickened my pace; it is quite possible that I even started running. But, as I neared him, he turned his head slightly to one side and started speaking. It was then I realised that Dewhurst was not alone. He was talking to someone else.’
‘Did you see who it was?’ asked Rose abruptly.
‘No. You see, the person must have been standing a little way down the coastal path. If Dewhurst had not shifted his position at that moment, I might quite well have thought he was talking to himself.’
‘What did you do?’
‘I turned around and retraced my steps,’ Father Adler said shrugging. ‘The things I meant to say to Dewhurst were intended for his ears alone. I had no intention of having an audience.’
‘You returned to your rooms?’
‘Yes, though no one saw me. My daughter was in her room, where I had left her. I went into the sitting room and poured myself a whisky. I sat down and contemplated what I was going to say to Dewhurst.’
‘Then you still intended to have it out with him that night?’
Rose regarded the vicar with renewed interest. Even Mr Kettering looked enthralled, his pen poised ready.
‘Yes. But as it happens, I didn’t,’ said Father Adler. ‘I am not used to strong liquor. I suppose I must have dozed in my chair, because I woke up with a start. I looked at the clock on the mantelpiece and to my horror discovered it was half past three.’
‘What did you do?’ demanded the hotel proprietor.
‘Well, it was obviously too late to speak with Dewhurst. I had no intention of rousing him from his bed and creating a scene. I resolved instead to demand an audience with him after breakfast. The thought occurred to me, of course, that he might have already fled the hotel.’ He passed a hand across his forehead, ‘I picked up my empty whisky glass, which had rolled on to the floor, and retired to my bedroom. I did not want my daughter to find me asleep in the chair.’
‘Did you look in on Miss Adler before you retired to your room?’ inquired Rose.
‘Yes,’ said Mr Kettering, before the vicar could answer. ‘If I’d been in your shoes, I would have done. I would have wanted to be absolutely certain that she was in her room and not on her way to the mainland with Dewhurst.’
Father Adler favoured the hotel proprietor with a scowl. ‘As it happens, I did look in on my daughter. She was there, all right, sleeping the sleep of the innocent.’
‘There’s nothing to say Miss Adler did not creep out of the hotel and kill Dewhurst while Father Adler was dozing in the sitting room,’ remarked Mr Kettering, as soon as the vicar had departed, the vicar’s steps slow and his manner subdued. ‘For that matter,’ the hotel proprietor added, ‘there is nothing to say she was actually in her room when her father returned to the hotel.’
‘True,’ said Rose, ‘but Mabel Adler could not have been the person Mr Dewhurst was addressing on the coastal path, if that is what you are suggesting. She might well have followed her father when he left the hotel, afraid what he might do to Alec Dewhurst when he found him, but she could not have got to the cliff edge before him without being observed.’
‘It seems to me,’ reflected her companion, ‘that neither Father Adler nor his daughter have a very satisfactory alibi. What is more, each had a motive for why they might have wished Alec Dewhurst dead.’ He advanced towards the bell-pull. ‘Who do you wish to speak to now, your ladyship? I think we ought to partake of some refreshment, don’t you? This interviewing business is thirsty work.’
‘Lady Lavinia, I think,’ said Rose. The hotel proprietor raised his eyebrows above his wire-rimmed spectacles, as was his habit when he was surprised. Rose, conscious of his inquiring look, added hastily. ‘It is just a formality, that’s all. In fact, you needn’t be present.’
Mr Kettering had returned to his chair and sat down. He did not strike her as minded to leave the room before all the interviews were completed. Most probably he would consider it a dereliction of his duties. Rose racked her brains rather desperately. She did not want him there while she interviewed Lavinia, not if she could possibly help it. But how to get rid of him without arousing his suspicions, that was the question.
‘As it happens, I have a task for you,’ she said finally, with a sense she was clutching at straws. ‘I should be awfully grateful if you would call on the duchess and ask her what initials she had engraved on Mr Dewhurst’s pocket watch.’
Mr Kettering looked surprised, but distinctly flattered.
‘Of course, your ladyship, I should be honoured. Should I also ask her grace about the font?’
‘Yes, do,’ said Rose hurriedly, ushering him towards the door. The servant materialised and was promptly sent in search of Lavinia. ‘Do tell her to come at once,’ Rose said. She turned her attention back to Mr Kettering. ‘You are far more tactful than I am. I’m afraid I may have been rather abrupt in my dealings with the duchess. I can’t tell you how very grateful I would be if you could ask her a few more questions concerning her initial meeting with Mr Dewhurst. Yes, do take your pocketbook with you; it is most important that you write down everything she tells you.’
With the hotel proprietor safely dispatched, Rose waited impatiently for her friend to arrive. She began to pace the room. Whatever was keeping Lavinia? Inwardly she cursed the girl, for she had visions of her sitting at her dressi
ng table applying her makeup. Really, she should have gone to find Lavinia herself. After all, there was no real reason why the interview should take place in this room. Indeed, it would be far more preferable if it didn’t and then there would be no fear of the hotel proprietor appearing at an inopportune moment. Why hadn’t she thought of that earlier?
‘Oh, so this is where you’ve been hiding yourself, is it?’ Lavinia said, appearing at the door. ‘Kettering’s lair.’ She passed a finger idly across the spines of the books on the bookcase and picked up a pewter tankard. She scrutinised the inscription engraved on its polished surface. ‘Fancy Kettering being something of an athlete. You’d never think it to look at him, would you? Speaking of the fellow,’ she continued, putting the object down on the desk with a thud, ‘where is he? Have you sent him to take statements from the servants?’
‘Where have you been?’ demanded Rose, dispensing with pleasantries. She had no intention of answering Lavinia’s fatuous questions. ‘I’ve been waiting ages,’ she continued, taking her sister-in-law by the arm and steering her towards the chair, recently vacated by Father Adler. ‘We haven’t much time.’
‘Haven’t we?’ Lavinia said languidly. ‘Speaking for myself, I’ve all the time in the world …’
‘Well, I haven’t. And neither have you, not if you know what’s good for you.’
Lavinia’s eyes widened in surprise. ‘I say, darling, you are being frightfully cryptic. Is that the new line you’ve decided to adopt when questioning suspects? I can’t say I care for it much.’ She gave her friend a reproachful look. ‘It sounds a trifle menacing, if you don’t mind my saying.’
‘Lavinia, do be quiet. Now, listen to me. You must tell me the truth. It’s frightfully important that you do.’
‘What do you mean?’
Was it Rose’s imagination, or had a note of fear crept into the girl’s voice? Certainly, she was aware that she had Lavinia’s full attention at last.
‘When did you last see Alec Dewhurst?’
‘Why, last night, of course. As a matter of fact, I danced with him after you and Ceddie had retired for the night. It was frightfully early. Why is it that people become frightfully boring and dull when they get married?’
‘It really won’t do, Lavinia’
‘I haven’t the faintest idea what you mean.’
‘Yes, you have. You’re trying to change the subject, and you mustn’t.’ Rose held up her hand as Lavinia made to protest. She resisted the temptation to take the girl by the shoulder and shake her. ‘Look here, I know you were on the cliff path last night. Suppose you tell me how it all happened.’
‘I don’t know how you can possibly know that.’
‘Well, you were spotted, for one thing. That’s to say, Father Adler spotted Alec Dewhurst speaking to someone on the cliff path. I think that person was you.’
Lavinia pouted. ‘Whatever makes you think it was me? It could have been someone else. Mabel Adler, for instance, was in the habit of walking to the cliff with Alec Dewhurst. Surely you are aware of that?’
‘I am. But I also happen to know that at that precise moment Mabel Adler was sitting miserable and chagrined in her room. It won’t do any good being stubborn, you know. I know for a fact that you were on the cliff path last night.’ Rose bent forward and took her friend’s hand. ‘Lavinia, you must tell me what happened. It is the only way I can help you. I’ve sent Mr Kettering on an errand but I expect him back any minute.’
‘How did you know I was there last night?’ Lavinia said sulkily. A thought struck her and she looked indignant. ‘I say, I hope you weren’t spying on me. It would have been frightfully rotten of you if you were.’
‘Of course, I wasn’t,’ Rose said, losing patience. She produced from her pocket a gold filigree earring which she passed to Lavinia.
‘Oh, you’ve found it! I’m frightfully glad. I was awfully afraid that I had lost it. Wherever did you find it?’
‘A little way down the cliff path. I remembered that you were wearing just such a pair of earrings last night at dinner.’ Lavinia stared at her but said nothing. ‘I was searching the area this morning with Cedric and Mr Kettering. I suppose one could say we were looking for clues. I spotted the earring. I recognised it immediately; I knew it belonged to you.’ She paused a moment for her companion had gone deathly pale. ‘Before I quite knew what I was doing,’ Rose continued hurriedly, ‘I picked it up and put it in my pocket.’
‘Did … did anyone else see what you did?’ Lavinia asked in a quiet voice.
‘No. Is that what is worrying you?’ Rose continued, not waiting for her sister-in-law’s reply. ‘Now, Lavinia, you must tell me exactly what happened.’
It was at this rather inopportune moment that Mr Kettering chose to make his reappearance. Returned from successfully completing his errand, his spirits were high. They were soon to be dashed, however, as he saw the expression on Lavinia’s face. Her reservations were shared by her companion, though Rose at least made an attempt to conceal her feelings. Nevertheless, there ensued an awkward silence with the hotel proprietor realising, rather belatedly, that his presence in the study was far from welcome. He found himself to be in something of a quandary, and stared perplexed at the two women.
‘I can’t,’ said Lavinia finally. ‘I can’t tell you.’ She looked beseechingly at her friend. ‘Rose, you mustn’t make me. It’s … it’s too awful.’ And, with that, she buried her face in her hands.
Chapter Twenty-seven
Another silence followed this statement. This time it was Mr Kettering’s turn to look appalled. He was not good at dealing with weeping women at the best of times. He averted his gaze, apparently fixated by the pattern on one of the rugs on the floor and wondered how the situation should best be handled. Inwardly, he observed that when Miss Adler had sobbed she had not cried with the wanton abandonment of Lady Lavinia. Rather, she had done it discreetly, dabbing at her eyes with the edge of a handkerchief.
Lavinia lifted her head and giggled. The hidden face and heaving shoulders had misled her observers. The hotel proprietor pursed his lips and cast her a most reproachful look. The deplorable girl seemed to be having a fit of the giggles! In contrast, Rose’s reaction was one of distinct relief. No need to fear the worst. Not now that Lavinia had laughed in that ridiculous fashion. She could quite easily hazard a guess as to what her friend might be about to reveal. There was no denying that Lavinia had acted somewhat foolishly. But she had not acted criminally. At worst, her character might be slightly tarnished in the eyes of Mr Kettering, but that was all.
‘Suppose you tell us what happened,’ Rose said, somewhat curtly, annoyed that she had been needlessly anxious about her friend. She also had no wish to prolong the interview, which was likely to prove highly embarrassing for a man of Mr Kettering’s sensibilities. Lavinia, she knew, would require little encouragement to play to her audience. Indeed, knowing her friend as she did, the girl would take a great delight in shocking the hotel proprietor with her escapades. If she was to be chided for behaving with little thought to her reputation it would be later and not in Mr Kettering’s presence.
‘As I told you,’ Lavinia said, rather resenting Rose’s tone, ‘I danced with Mr Dewhurst after you and Ceddie retired for the night.’ She leaned forward in her chair and smiled sweetly, her expression rather forced. ‘Did I mention that he was the most accomplished dancer?’
‘You did not,’ said Rose, in the same brusque tone, though she was finding it hard not to smile in spite of herself. Really, Lavinia was quite impossible. ‘I suppose it was Alec Dewhurst who suggested the two of you should go for a walk on the cliff?’ she said. ‘I daresay he commented on it being a very fine night for a stroll?’
‘Yes, he did say something of the sort,’ admitted Lavinia, a trifle crossly. ‘You make it sound so dreadfully sordid, and really it wasn’t a bit like that.’ She arched an eyebrow and said rather haughtily. ‘In fact, if you must know, he was frightfully sweet. He told me that
he had been absolutely dying to make my acquaintance but that he didn’t dare approach me in company. He didn’t think Ceddie would approve, you see. He was terribly upset that Ceddie had taken such an irrational dislike to him.’
‘Hardly irrational,’ replied Rose.
‘Ceddie?’ queried the hotel proprietor.
‘My brother, Mr Kettering. Lord Belvedere,’ said Lavinia helpfully.
‘Really, Lavinia,’ said Rose, ‘whatever were you thinking?’
‘Calling Cedric, Ceddie, do you mean?’ the girl replied, deliberately misunderstanding her question. She gave a heartfelt sigh. ‘I was bored. There’s very little to do here and no society to speak of, unless you count us, of course.’
‘Lavinia!’ Out of the corner of her eye, Rose was aware that the hotel proprietor had stopped writing. ‘There’s heaps to do here, if you would only apply yourself.’
‘We can’t all be like you, you know.’ There was a long pause, and then Lavinia said: ‘I’m sorry, but you did ask. As I’ve already said, I was frightfully bored and I didn’t want to go to bed. I thought it would be rather thrilling to go for a walk in the moonlight with a handsome young man. I daresay I should have given a thought for the duchess, or even Miss Adler, but I’m afraid I didn’t. You see, I didn’t think there would be any harm in it, and, besides, I’ve always been rather curious about Mr Dewhurst, haven’t you?’
Murder on Skiathos Page 26
