'And you don't know why?'
'It would only be hearsay, sir.'
'And what did you hear them say?'
'I'd rather not comment, sir.'
'Fair enough. Did she attend the wedding?'
'I think not, sir.'
'What happened after Lady Genny descended from the car? Chief Inspector Cobb's account is that she fainted.'
'Lady Genevieve became unwell, sir. We had assembled in the church porch, preparatory to going in, and it was then that she complained of feeling faint. I'm not sure that she became unconscious. The Duke and I helped her to a seat. Miss Yates gave her smelling salts. Presently she announced that she was recovered and would continue. I was dispatched to warn the Bishop, who was officiating, that the organist might begin the march. I then took my place in the congregation.'
'To what do you ascribe this fainting fit, Mr Pearson?'
'I can only suppose it was wedding nerves, sir. I set little store by it, and told Chief Inspector Cobb as much.'
Felix glanced at his copy of the report, long since memorised. 'Ah yes, so you did. How long was she indisposed, would you say?'
'I doubt ten minutes.'
'Was anyone else in the church porch at the time?'
'Not in addition to those I have mentioned, sir.'
'Is it possible to see out of it?'
'On three sides, yes. The church doors were closed at that time.'
'You travelled with the bride. Was anything said or done that might explain it?'
'I don't believe so. Lady Genevieve professed herself nervous and was reassured by the Duke. There was nothing I would describe as unusual or surprising about their conversation, although I should say that I didn't make a point of listening to it.'
'No, of course. Was there anyone to be seen when you arrived at the church?'
'Yes, sir. There was a considerably crowd of onlookers, and one or two stragglers were going in. We waited until they'd done so before alighting.'
'Can you remember who it was going in?'
'No, sir.'
'Man, woman?'
'I really can't recall, sir. Most of the village was there, and many from outside.'
'How did Her Ladyship seem during the service?'
'Poised and confident, sir. She spoke up clearly, and from where I was sitting appeared perfectly happy. She was smiling as they left the church.'
'Back home without incident?'
'Yes, sir.'
'How did she appear, when coming home?'
'Again, very happy, sir. She was smiling and waving to everyone. There were photographs in the churchyard and they returned in the open landau so that the village might see them.'
'Sounds to have been quite an occasion.'
'It was, sir, and a beautiful day for it. I treasure the memory.'
'I'm sure. How many at the reception?'
'Nearly two hundred, sir.'
'Did you have help with the catering, from outside?'
'No, sir. We were over forty staff then. It proved to be adequate.'
'Did any guests bring their own servants?'
'Yes, a few. I should have said that some of them helped as well.'
'Would some of those have been men?'
'Yes, sir. Though I'm afraid I can't recall how many.'
'Any suspicious characters?'
'Naturally I've wondered about that, sir, but no-one has come to mind. I wasn't acquainted with them for the most part, but I cannot recall anyone behaving suspiciously.'
'What did you do for the rest of the day?'
'I performed the duties of a footman; greeting the guests, conveying them to the dining room, or to their rooms – those who were staying overnight – and then waiting at table.'
'All day?'
'Yes, into the evening.'
'Tiring?'
Again the thin smile. 'I was young then, sir; I didn't get tired.'
'I know what you mean. Was there dancing?'
'Yes indeed. It was a very joyous occasion. I can remember nothing that might have suggested what was about to happen.'
'Did the bride and groom dance?'
'Yes, they led the dancing.'
'Did the bride dance with other gentlemen?'
'Why yes, sir, of course.'
'Can you recall who those gentlemen were?'
'A few of them, sir.'
'Could you provide a list?'
'Only a partial one, sir. I'm not sure it would be much use to you.'
'Would they all have been known to you, the gentlemen she danced with?'
'No, sir. Some, I am sure, would not have been. And, of course, I had my duties to attend to; I wasn't watching the dancing.'
'Perhaps that's more of a question for the Duchess?'
'And the Marquis, sir.'
'Yes, of course. I suppose Her Ladyship would have left the room from time to time. Would she have been accompanied, do you suppose?'
'I don't believe she was chaperoned, sir, if that's what you mean. But she would scarcely have been alone. Ladies were passing in and out continually.'
'Yes, I suppose that's true.' Felix looked thoughtfully at his report. 'And so we come to this extraordinary "bride bothering." I have an account of it here, of course, but would you kindly explain it to me in you own words?'
'If you wish, sir. It's a very old tradition – centuries old, so they say – although it's changed a good deal over the years. I believe that originally the bridesmaids and other young women would attempt to prevent, by whatever means, the bride from joining the groom in their bedchamber. The groom's gentleman-friends, for their part, would attempt to impede the bridesmaids and rescue the bride. It's said it could be very boisterous, not to say unseemly. By nineteen-fourteen it had become a game of hide and seek between the bride and her friends, with the bride, if not discovered, returning to her husband by an agreed time, usually eleven o'clock. If her friends succeeded in finding and detaining her, they would demand a ransom for her release – a small sum of money or a little gift – which the groom had to pay.'
'So it was necessary that the happy couple should stay here overnight?'
'Yes, sir. They would take leave of the non-overnight guests at eleven-thirty or so, the remainder seeing them off in the morning.'
'Thank you, Mr Pearson, that was beautifully described. Did you approve of such shenanigans?'
'I had no opinion of it, sir; it was simply what we did.'
'Would you say that Lady Genny entered willingly into this game?'
'She seemed to do so, certainly. She scampered off cheerfully enough, and after the count of a hundred, in which everyone traditionally joined, the others ran to look for her.'
'And at what time was that?'
'I believe nine-thirty, sir.'
'One and a half hours, then. And what was the normal modus operandi of the bride? Did she find some place of concealment and stay there?'
'She might, sir, but it was considered rather bad form not to show oneself occasionally.'
'Which she did?'
'So I understand, sir.'
'And when eleven o'clock arrived?'
'She didn't return. At first no-one was greatly concerned, but at about eleven-thirty Lord George came to me quietly, explained that they were worried about her, and told me to join the search party.'
'Had any searching already been done?'
'Yes, they had been to her rooms – her old rooms – and various other places, but without result.'
'Who was involved in this search?'
'At first just the family and senior servants, but eventually by anyone who knew his way about the house.'
'That would exclude most of the guests, presumably?'
'Yes, sir. We thought it best not to ask them, although I can't say for certain that none were involved. Many had gone home, of course, but most of those remaining stayed up — the gentlemen, anyway. Later, Lord Andrew suggested a search of the grounds and some of the visiting gentlemen volunteere
d for that. I was asked to provide lanterns and go with them, which I did.'
'When would that have been?'
'I believe about twelve-thirty, sir. Naturally we found nothing.'
'What were you doing before that?'
'I helped to search the house.'
'And when was the attic where Her Ladyship was found first searched?'
'That I don't know, sir. Certainly it was searched that night. Lord George may be able to tell you more precisely when. They also returned in daylight and searched again. And then, of course, the whole house was searched by the police, including, once again, the attic. I should say, sir, that it would not have been thought likely at the time that she would be found there. For the purposes of the bride-bothering, everything off the backstairs would have been considered out of bounds. Lady Genevieve would not, under ordinary circumstances have gone there to hide.'
'And on that subject, can you tell me if the servants' rooms on the attic floor were occupied then?
'I believe they were, sir, yes. They were later abandoned as not required.'
'Can you tell me who had them?'
Pearson paused to consider. 'I don't think I can, sir. As a footman, I would not have been familiar with the maidservants' accommodations.'
'No, I suppose not. Why do you suppose Lady Genny was not discovered?'
'I cannot imagine, sir. It seems to me extraordinary. I can only suppose she was very well hidden. May I ask a question, sir? Do you know if Her Ladyship was still alive when she went into the trunk, by whatever means? The servants have all read the newspaper report and some of them find the details upsetting.'
Felix glanced at Rattigan. 'That is one of the things we're trying to discover, Mr Pearson. I must stress that none of what you read in the newspapers has been provided by the police and is quite likely to be incorrect. Have you been into the attic yourself, then or since?'
'Neither, sir. I've never been inside it in all the years I've been here. It was already disused when I commenced my employment, so I had no cause to do so, nor to ascend to that floor. I'm glad I didn't have to see her, as I'd prefer to remember her as she was. We were the same age, sir. I and some others were sometimes permitted to play with Her Ladyship and His Lordship, as children, and of course I saw her frequently during my duties. She was always kind to me and took an interest. For Her Ladyship to have been found in such a case is very distressing. I'm distressed for the family, sir. We all are.'
'I'm sure you are. What did you think at the time — that she'd run away?'
'Yes, sir. Everyone did. There seemed no other explanation.'
'And finally, Mr Pearson. Can you recall anyone among the family and staff expressing dislike or antipathy towards Lady Genny? Even, perhaps, mild annoyance?'
The butler shook his head emphatically. 'No, sir. At any rate, not among the servants. Everyone loved her. She was as respectful of us as we were of her and often would do one of us a kindness. As to the family, I would not have been party to that sort of remark, even had someone uttered it.'
'Sir,' interposed Rattigan, 'the attic door.'
'Oh, yes. Thank you, Sergeant. Was it kept locked, Mr Pearson, at the time?'
'I'm not sure, sir. I rather think not; although the key might have sat in the lock.'
'All right, Mr Pearson, thank you. We may, of course, have more questions for you later. Do you think it would be possible for us to see Miss Fripp now?'
'Not entirely disinterested?' suggested Rattigan.
Felix nodded his agreement. 'Under that professional punctilio I'd say he's a worried man. Not sure if that points to more personal involvement or just concern for the family. And I'll tell you another thing —'
'He carried a torch for Miss Brown.' said Rattigan, anticipating him. 'Something between them anyway.'
'I thought you'd spot that. Clearly not enough to keep her here though.'
'Unrequited love, on his part?'
'And he not married, although he's a good-looking chap. Well that's a bit fanciful, perhaps. You know, I'd very much like a word with Virginia Brown. Quite apart from anything else, she should be able to tell us something of her mistress's state of mind, and any gentleman friends she might have had.'
'It might not be so easy to find her without an address. She's quite likely to be married herself, for one thing.'
'I'll quiz Detective Superintendent Cobb about it,' said Felix. 'I've decided to go and see him; later today if I can. It'll be interesting to hear what he's got to say about the case. Damned nuisance not having my car here. We'll need to see the Marquis eventually, and who knows who else? Did the lads manage to find one? I suppose they must have done.'
'Yes, they did. John was talking about driving into Welmford; he's running out of flash powder.'
'Good. We'll go back together, then pinch it.' He turned at a knock on the door. 'That'll be Miss Fripp. Come in!'
A glance at his notes reminded Felix that Miss Fripp was thirty-two, though she appeared much older, prematurely grey and somehow shrunk into herself, her shoulders rounded and hunched.
'Your name is Gladys Fripp,' he said. 'You've worked here since nineteen-ten and you're a chambermaid. Is that correct?'
'Yes, sir.'
Jolly good. Now, Miss Fripp, I'd like you to cast your mind back to the day of Lady Genny's wedding. Perhaps you will describe your own activities to me, insofar as you can remember them.'
Miss Fripp looked dubious. 'From the morning, sir? Well I got up, of course, and had breakfast in the hall. That was earlier than usual, as the kitchen needed to get on. Then we fetched the water for Lady Genevieve's ablutions. But when we got there we found she'd gone out riding so we had to go back later.'
Felix raised an eyebrow. 'That was rather surprising, wasn't it, that she should go riding on her wedding morning?'
'Yes, sir. I was surprised myself. We all were.'
'What did her personal maid think of that? Miss Brown, was it not?'
'Yes, sir. She was surprised too. Her Ladyship had dressed herself and gone out before Miss Brown arrived, sir.'
'Was that a cause for concern?'
'Some people were concerned, yes, in case she should be late. In the event she was ready in time.'
'I understand that Miss Brown gave notice that morning. Was it anything to do with that, or something else?'
Miss Fripp looked uncomfortable. 'I don't know, sir.'
'But you think it might have been, perhaps?'
'I . . . there was a bit of argy-bargy about it. But it hadn't anything to do with me; I was just there, with the bathwater.'
'You had to carry the bathwater?' frowned Felix. 'Didn't you have any plumbing here at that time?'
Miss Fripp smiled cynically. 'They didn't need plumbing, sir; they had us. We have electric heating now, I'm glad to say.'
'Remarkable. So who was involved, in this "argy-bargy" — the Duchess?'
'Oh no, sir. Not then, anyway.'
'Who, then? Other servants? Mr Pearson?
'Lord, no! It was nothing to do with him. If you don't mind, sir, I'd rather not say who it was. Do I have to?'
Felix shook his head. 'You don't have to tell me anything that you don't want to, Miss Fripp, and what you do tell me is, of course, in complete confidence. Sergeant Rattigan is writing down what you say, and when we've finished he'll type it up with two fat fingers and present it to you to read and sign. If you're not happy with anything, he'll strike it out. Is it because you don't want to get someone into trouble?'
'I wouldn't say that exactly, sir, but—'
'But you have to live here. Is that it? It might make things difficult for you.'
Miss Fripp looked relieved. 'Yes, sir, it might. It's not that I don't want to help you, because I do.'
'Would it help if we don't name names?' asked Felix kindly. 'Would you say that Miss Brown was sacked, justly or unjustly, for allowing Lady Genny to go riding on her wedding morning?'
'I truly don't know, sir. We we
re told she'd given notice, and she left so quick, no-one got her side of it. Not that I know of anyway.'
'All right, lets move on from that. What did you do next?
'I saw to the other rooms I was responsible for, fetching their water and drawing the curtains and so on, and when the people had cleared out I went back and tidied, and changed the sheets.'
'And which people were they?'
'Wedding guests, sir – five or six couples, I think, and some gentlemen – but I can't say I ever knew their names. Or if I did, I've forgotten.
'And then what did you do?'
'I went to get changed for church.'
'You attended the ceremony?'
'Yes, sir, we'd drawn lots for it and I was one of those that won.'
'Lucky for you. Was it a nice service?'
'It was very nice, sir, yes. Not that we could see much, from where we was sitting.'
'That's a shame. But from where you were, did you see anything that might be interesting to a policeman? There are not many people left who were in the church, so anything you can tell me might be useful.'
'What sort of things, sir?'
'Well, you know, late arrivals, someone rushing off early, an argument or altercation, a peculiar remark, a stranger?'
'There were quite a few of those, sir. There was one man, by himself. He came and tacked onto our pew. Not on the nave but the vestry side, next to me. When they took their vows he stood up; the better to see, I suppose. And when I next looked, he'd gone. So, yes, he did go off early.'
'Before the bride and groom?'
'Yes.'
'What did he look like?'
'I didn't particularly notice, sir, except he was tall.'
'Dark, fair?'
'Dark. He looked a bit foreign, as I remember.'
'Dark-skinned, do you mean?'
'No, sir, just not English. I expect it was his clothes.'
'That's excellent, Miss Fripp. Thank you. It's surprising what comes to mind when you cudgel the old brain a bit. Anything else?'
'Not really surprising, sir. I doubt I should have remembered, but I was hoping my young man would be able to squeeze in, and instead I got this chap. I was really cross. He was killed in the war, sir, my Albert.'
Felix sat back, chastened. 'Miss Fripp, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have wished to bring that back to you.'
Death of a Lady (The Inspector Felix Mysteries Book 1) Page 5
