'I shouldn't want too many of those,' said Rattigan. 'She gives me the willies.'
'It never seems that bad with a fresh one,' agree Felix. 'You'd think it'd be the other way round. Did anyone notice anything missing?'
'From the corpse?' frowned Nash. 'What sort of thing?'
'Tell 'em, Teddy.'
'No wedding ring,' said Rattigan complacently.
'Drat! Nor we did,' said Yardley.
Felix chuckled. 'I think we'll keep that to ourselves for now.' He bent to look under the tarpaulin. 'Ah, thought so; it's stopping.' Careful not to dislodge the puddles, he eased himself gingerly out onto the leads. It was still very windy, but the clouds, he noted, had begun to break up and were clearing away to the east. Gazing over the low parapet, he discovered what appeared to be a service yard, from out of which ladders and scaffolding rose up to meet him. 'That looks like a builders' lorry.'
'It is, sir. They were sitting in it when we arrived.'
'Then we'd best have them up.' Putting his fingers to his lips, Felix gave a piercing whistle. At the second attempt there came an answering wave from below. 'Has anyone left undone those things he ought to have done?' he asked, coming back inside. 'It all looks pretty thoroughly dabbed.'
'Lord, no, sir!' protested Yardley. 'We've scarcely begun. There's the iodine to try yet and the silver nitrate. The trouble is, I can't do it here; I need electric light. There isn't any on this floor; I asked.'
'Is it safe to move it?'
'It's not ideal, but I don't see that we have a choice. If we could carry it by the handles and near the bottom, it would help. They seem sturdy enough.'
'All right, we'll sort something out.'
'I'll just try one or two more shots in here, now that it's a bit brighter,' said Nash, reaching for his camera. I've taken some of the entire room as well, in case things get moved about.'
'Good man. Is that where the chest was when you arrived? Pretty negligent sort of search on the face of it. It doesn't appear to have been dragged out from some corner, and who wouldn't look inside?'
'That's what we thought, sir,' said Yardley. 'But John thinks he knows how it might have happened.' He glanced at Nash, who picked his way to the room's entrance and stepped through it.
'See this big wardrobe, sir? If you look, you'll find it's been swung round. Here are the marks on the floor. Put it back and it would completely hide the doorway. Looking at it, I reckon some of this other junk was piled in front, because there are patches of it without any dust. If you didn't know, you mightn't suspect there was another room behind it, especially as it hasn't a window.'
'No, I noticed that. It's quite small too, compared with the others.'
There came the thump of boots on scaffold boards and a builder ducked into their midst. Aged perhaps fifty, flat-capped and wearing a filthy, cement-stained suit, he seemed almost as wide as he was tall, which was about five foot six. Close behind came a younger and less burly version of the same thing. They were, it transpired, Joseph Maidment and Son, Master Builders.
'They've a-took en, then?' said Joseph. 'Poor little maid.'
Felix nodded. 'We need to know how she died, so the doctor's taken her away to examine her. Was it one of you that opened the trunk?'
'Yers, it were Dick 'ere,' said Joseph. 'They were a-chattin', harmless-like, an' 'e a-lifted the lid. 'e should'n a-done it, an' I dwon't say 'e should, but if 'e 'ad'n, they should'n a-found en, so't be a good thing 'e did. That's what I d'reckon anyway.'
'That's very true,' said Felix solemnly. 'Who was the other one? You said "they."'
'Dick Maidment's homely features had noticeably coloured. 'Da-ad! There were no need!'
Joseph shook his head. 'They'd a-bin sure ter find out, son; they be the police. It d'be no reflection on Alice, she be a nice, respectable maid. It were you a-showin' off as a-meade the trouble.' he turned to Felix. 'They be promised ter each other, sir; Dick an' poor Fanny Strong's daughter. She a-come up from the kitchen for ter see en and while they were alone teagether 'e a-done it.'
'I didn't do it to show off,' protested Dick. 'I'd have looked anyway.'
'Not if I'd a-bin 'ere, you wouldn!'
'Dick, listen,' said Felix. 'I'm not cross that you opened the trunk. The really important thing we need to know is, was it locked when you found it?'
'No, sir,' said Dick instantly. 'There weren't no lock ter lock.'
'And what about the hasp — was that up or down?'
'Down. It's quite slack so it'd just fall down if the lid were down. There's an old mortice-lock, sir. But as you see, the keyhole's been stopped up.'
'Thank you. And can either of you tell me if that wardrobe over there was pulled across the doorway, when you arrived?'
'Yers it were!' said Joseph. 'We couldn a-work it out for a bit, knowin' as there had ter be a chimbley breast hereabouts. We thought we'd a-struck a dead end.' He looked embarrassed. 'As yer mid say, sir.'
Felix turned away as Nash took a picture, the acrid smoke rapidly dispersing in the wind. 'Mr Maidment, You'll find now that everything you say will have death and bodies in it. May I ask you a favour? Unless I tell you otherwise, I want you not to mention to anyone about the wardrobe. Does Miss Strong know?'
'No, sir,' said Dick. 'I never said nothing about that.'
'No more did I,' added his father.
'Then keep it under your hats. That's important. You'll be able to work out why, no doubt, but don't tell anyone else. Now I'm just going to ask Sergeant Yardley here to take your fingerprints, so we don't get you mixed up with anyone else, and then you can get on with your work. How long do you think it will take?'
'If the weather do 'old, sir, I d'reckon about dree days.'
'Good. I know it won't be easy, but try not to disturb all this more than you can help. And if you find anything you think we should know about, don't hesitate to tell us. When did you report finding her, by the way?'
'Straight off, sir, ter Mrs Pardey.'
With some difficulty they manoeuvred the unwieldy trunk safely onto the landing. It was brighter now, with patches of blue above the skylight, but their mood was grim.
'So it's murder, then,' said Rattigan. 'What sort of monster would kill a girl on her wedding night?'
'I'd say the wardrobe business clinches it,' agreed Nash. 'Whoever moved it in front of that doorway must have known exactly what they were doing.'
Felix nodded. 'I'm inclined to that view, certainly, but we ought not to jump to conclusions. Let's see what the good doctor comes up with first.'
Sam appeared at the turn of the stairs.
'Hello, sirs. Have the builders turned you out?'
'No, we've done all we can up here for the time being. I should have liked to make the attic out of bounds but we can hardly leave the roof half off, so we've let them get on with it. In the meantime, I want this door kept locked. The Maidments can come and go via their scaffolding.'
'That shouldn't be a problem, sir. I suggest you keep the key.' He looked nervously sidelong at the trunk. 'If you don't mind me asking, is that what I think it is?'
'Don't worry; it's empty. Your lads are helping the doctor put Her Ladyship in the back of his car. What we need now is an unused room with electric lighting so that we can examine it more closely. Any ideas? We don't want to carry it too far in case we mess up the evidence.'
At first Sam seemed disinclined to shoulder the responsibility, but eventually suggested a third-floor bedroom. 'Just on the left off the next landing, sir. The nearest is number twenty. You might as well have that.'
'We'll need the key.'
'Yes, I'll arrange it. It's open, or should be, so you can go in. I came to tell you the Duke will see you now, if you're free.'
'All right, we'll be along directly.'
'Me too, sir?' asked Rattigan, as the footman retreated below.
'Yes, I think so. Keep your notebook handy but be discreet. We'll leave you chaps to work your alchemy on the trunk.'
; 'I don't know about Yardley, sir,' said Nash, 'but I could do with a cuppa before we crack on with it. We've been here since nine.'
Felix paused to consider. 'All right, take yourselves down to the servants' hall, charm the maids and generally get your feet under the table. Keep it light; we don't want to frighten them or they may clam up. Oh, and while you're at it, see if you can get hold of a staff record book. They must have something of the sort. Come on, Teddy.'
Halfway down, Rattigan touched his sleeve. 'Sir, you couldn't just remind me how to address a Duke, could you? I don't want to get egg on my face.'
Felix smiled at the big man's anxious expression. 'I wondered what was bothering you. He's "Your Grace" the first time, and "sir" will do after that. You can always throw in another "Your Grace" if you want a bit of emphasis or to get his attention. His missus is also "Your Grace" and then "madam." The sons get a "My Lord" and then "sir". Lord George, being the eldest, uses one of his father's subsidiary titles — by courtesy, as they call it. He's Viscount Welmford, so is correctly referred to as Lord Welmford, but around the house he's probably just Lord George. His wife gets a "My Lady" or "Your Ladyship". Again, I expect they refer to her as "Lady George." I don't suppose anyone will care if you stick to "sir," and "madam," apart from the Duchess. If she's really a stickler, we'd best get it right.'
Rattigan rehearsed it to himself for a moment. 'Thank you, sir. I did look it up but it wouldn't take for some reason.'
Felix chuckled. 'Don't be frightened of them, Teddy — just imagine them in pyjamas. Well, perhaps not the Duchess. Ah, Sam. How do we find our way to the Duke?'
'I'd best take you, sir. It's a bit of a warren until you get used to it.'
Chapter 3
The apartments of Arthur Frederick Mortimer, thirteenth Duke of Godwinstowe were to be found at the northernmost end of the house. His study, a place of ancient hunting trophies and shabby brown volumes, spoke of a man no longer much interested in his surroundings, but a bright fire burned in the grate, and the furniture had that air of peculiarly masculine comfort one associates with softened springs and well-worn leather. After the chill formality of the public spaces it felt like coming indoors. The Chief Constable was standing at a sideboard, nursing a whisky and chatting to Lord George, who had changed into a tweed suit and looked even more like a yeoman farmer than previously.
'Ah, there you are,' boomed Sir Neville. 'Hello Sergeant, got your notebook out, I see.' He leant towards His Lordship. 'These fellahs are the devil for facts, George. Know all about the place and only just got here. I shouldn't be surprised if they can tell you what you had for breakfast. That right, Felix? What about Carrington, given him the job, have you?'
Felix shot a discomfitted glance at Lord George. 'Yes, sir, as it happens.'
'Jolly good, that'll please him. Nice to know us bumpkins have our uses, eh George?'
His Lordship smiled sympathetically. 'It's all right, Inspector; I know these things have to be done. Father, your visitors are here.'
Neither Felix nor Rattigan had noticed the Duke who, lost in the depths of a wingback chair, had been dozing before the fire. Now, with the aid of an elderly manservant, he struggled to his feet and looked about him with benign and slightly palsied bewilderment. 'Neville, old chap!' he cried. 'Nice to see you again. Who are these fellahs, bailiffs?'
It occurred to Felix that the Duke could not be much older than his own father, who was still practising medicine and sitting on the bench, but his affliction had robbed his face of dignity and left his darting eyes disturbingly vacant.
'These are my fellow officers, sir,' explained Sir Neville. 'The ones I was telling you about earlier. This is Detective Inspector Felix and this is Detective Sergeant Rattigan. They're going to help me find out what happened to Lady Genevieve.'
The Duke frowned and looked questioningly at his son. Our Genny? Ran away on her wedding night and never seen again. Broke her mother's heart. Have they found her?'
'Yes, Father. She didn't run away; she was in the attic all the time.'
'In the attic! What's she been doing there? Hiding, I suppose. Does Lovell know?'
'No, Father. She was found dead. We did tell you. She's been there since the wedding. They searched it before but they missed her.'
Hearing this unwelcome news, the Duke appeared distraught, and Felix's heart went out to him. Then, quite suddenly, he turned to Rattigan. 'You've come for the Stubbs, I suppose? Well that's all right — good riddance. Never thought much of it, to be honest. Didn't look like any horse I've ever seen, eh George? And I've seen a few, so they tell me!' For a moment he gazed brightly about him, but getting no response to his little joke he again lapsed into confusion.
Lord George glanced for support to the manservant, who bent and spoke in his master's ear. 'Your Grace, they're not here for the painting; that's all taken care of. These men are policemen. They'll be wanting to talk to you about Lady Genny and the wedding, when she disappeared.'
'Hearing the familiar, respectful voice, the old man nodded sudden understanding and appeared to become lost in thought, no doubt recalling that fateful night. A silence descended, broken only by the crackling of the fire, until with a wistful smile he turned to the Chief Constable. 'I say, Neville, have I ever told you about the little gel at the Gaiety? Pretty as a picture she was and went like a train. Now what did she call herself? Queer sort of name. Millicent! That was it.'
They stepped out into the echoing north gallery, its dark paintings and classical statuary stretching away into the distance.
'Well, you can see how it is,' said Lord George. 'He does have his better days, but if you need any help, I think you're going to have to make do with me.'
'In that case, sir,' said Felix, 'may I ask if you have any reservations about our taking over from the local force? Sir Neville thought the Duke might have.'
'So he tells me. Well as far as I'm concerned Inspector, you have carte blanche. The local lot were damn-all use anyway. I understand you've brought a fingerprint expert with you. Is that likely to be any help, after so long a time?'
'We don't know, sir; no-one has tried it on anything so old. It's remarkable what they can do now, and my chap's one of the best, but he may, of course, find nothing useful, or even nothing at all. It does mean, I'm afraid, that we'll need everyone's fingerprints, including those of the family — for elimination purposes.'
'Yes, I suppose you will. Well you can certainly have mine and Róisín's. My brother Andrew spends most of his time in Town, and I can't get hold of him. I can only suppose he hasn't heard the news yet. The servants will, of course, cooperate.'
'What about the Duchess, sir?'
His Lordship regarded them gravely for a moment, leaning slightly backwards and tucking in his chin. It was, they were to discover, a characteristic mannerism. 'I'm afraid I can't speak for my mother,' he said. 'You'll have to ask her.'
'Very well, sir. I was wondering if there's a room we could use. We might be here for a day or two, and I'll have interviews to conduct.'
His Lordship gave a wry grunt. 'I'd say at a guess you have about a hundred to choose from. However, you might prefer my office. I'm not in it much, as I do most of my paperwork at home or in the estate office. It's just off the entrance hall, which you might find convenient, and comes with a telephone and a switchboard. We tend to use the telephone a good deal here or we'd run the servants ragged.'
'You don't live in the house then, My Lord?' asked Rattigan boldly.
'Why yes,' frowned His Lordship. 'Oh I see what you mean. I call it going home because we're tucked away at the end of the south gallery. You might recall that there's a two storey building tacked on the end of each wing. I live with my family in the southerly one and the Duke and his little retinue live in the northerly one, which is where we've just come from. The Duchess has her accommodations on the third floor of the main house, which we all did at one time. Architecturally, the place is an absurdity, as you'll discover. The Tudors modified
and augmented the original building, the Jacobeans messed it all about and the Georgians built the facade and the wings, which mainly consist of the galleries and cost a fortune to heat. None of it has much architectural merit, although a few of the paintings are worth a bob or two.' He paused before one of them. 'Here's the Canaletto. Or if you prefer, our next tranche of inheritance tax. The canvass my father referred to was disposed of after the twelfth Duke, my grandfather, died.'
'It's very fine, sir.'
His Lordship regarded it doubtfully. 'Do you think so? I'm not much for boats.'
They returned to the entrance hall where he threw open a door next to the Butler's room. 'Will this do? It's a decent size, and, as you see, it overlooks the main entrance. You'll be able to spy on all the comings and goings. I'll get them to light a fire. Anything else I can do, before I go?'
'This is just the ticket, sir, thank you,' said Felix. 'I'll be wanting to talk to the family of course, but I'd like to begin with the servants, if that's all right.'
Lord George turned to leave. 'Just as you wish, Inspector. Go where you like, see whom you like. Do your best for me, won't you? Genny was my twin, you know. I was very fond of her.'
Closing the door behind the departing Viscount, Rattigan shook his head. 'I'll never understand these people. Twins! If he hadn't said that, you'd scarcely have known they were related.'
Felix nodded. 'It's certainly taking sang-froid to the limit, even for the aristocracy. I wonder if it has to do with his mater? There was something in his manner, I thought, when I mentioned her.'
'A certain froideur, as they say? Yes, I noticed that. And he also said, "Do your best for me." Why not for "us"?'
'Mysteries already. Let's explore.'
Following instructions from the footman, they made their way to the state dining room and peered in. Its towering drapes were closed, but enough daylight filtered between them to see by. It was very quiet, the sculptures gazing from their niches with shadowy indifference.
'Big,' said Rattigan, gazing upwards.
Death of a Lady (The Inspector Felix Mysteries Book 1) Page 3
