Death of a Lady (The Inspector Felix Mysteries Book 1)

by R. A. Bentley

  'The Major shook his head mournfully. 'I regret, no. Nor, in fact, did we see the botherers. We heard them dashing about and laughing but we didn't encounter them.'

  'Or anyone else?'

  'No. Yes. George, briefly. We met on the stairs as I came down.'

  'What was he doing?'

  'I've no idea. Going to his room, I expect.'

  'Alone?'

  'Yes.'

  'Where was your own room, at that time?'

  'Where it is now. Third floor, number thirty. We're all in a row, me and the boys and Genny's rooms.' The Major looked suddenly bleak. 'Dash it, Felix, this is a terrible business, you know. To see her like that — words can't describe it. You'll have to excuse us if we're a bit shell-shocked.'

  'I do realise that, Major, and you have my sympathy. So then you came down to the ballroom, where presumably you circulated among the guests?'

  'No I didn't. Well, only for moments. The Duchess wanted to know about my wife, so we went into the blue room for a bit of privacy.'

  'When would that have been? Can you remember?'

  'Yes, I can tell you that. There's a rather prominent clock in there, and it was nearly eleven o'clock. I remember remarking that Genny would be returning in triumph shortly, assuming she remained uncaptured by the botherers. We'd been there, I suppose, about twenty minutes when Miss Yates came back to say people were starting to worry about her, and should she check her rooms?'

  'Where is the blue room?'

  'It connects with the ballroom and the south gallery. It's a private sitting room. Doubt if it's used now. Place is in mothballs, just about. Depressing when you've known it as I have.'

  'So we've discovered, Major. Miss Yates wasn't with the Duchess then, in the blue room?'

  'Yes, she had been. Her Grace had sent her to fetch the Duke.'

  'So that you could tell him your news as well?'

  'Yes, quite so. I'm sorry to say that things got rather chaotic after that. Had I known what was to come I should naturally have attempted to impose some sort of order – military man and all that – but in the event our concern rose by degrees. People were dispatched in various directions, but the panic only began in earnest at about twelve or so. It was then that I volunteered to supervise a search of the ground floor and galleries.'

  'Why the ground floor?'

  'Why? Oh, well, I was starting to feel pretty shattered by that time. I didn't want the stairs. Someone had to do it.'

  'Major, I hope you don't mind my asking this, but are you not well?'

  Er, no, I'm not, as a matter of fact — dicky heart. I didn't properly realise at the time, being that much younger, but the war brought it out.'

  'Nevertheless you distinguished yourself.'

  The major shook his head disparagingly. 'Not so very much. All a bit arbitrary, these gongs, what? Glad enough to get out of it, I can tell you!'

  'I'm quite sure you earned yours, Major. May I just ask: can you confirm that you formally identified the remains to Dr Carrington?'

  'Yes, I did.'

  'How was that, Teddy?' asked Felix. 'Have I bought his love?'

  'A model of sycophancy, sir,' said Rattigan cynically.

  'You think I overdid it? I did wonder about mentioning his condition, but people usually appreciate that sort of thing — shows you care. Anyway, perhaps he'll persuade the Duchess that we're all right, if she's persuadable.'

  'I beg leave to doubt it. Touch evasive, I thought, when talking about his time upstairs.'

  'It's broadly what he told Cobb, but there's something there, isn't there? Might not be anything to do with the murder, of course.'

  Chapter 7

  They had lunched in Lord George's office before getting down to business. The air was thick with tobacco smoke, and the table a jumble of reports, jottings, plates and beer glasses. Propped in the middle, as if to concentrate the mind, was a borrowed photograph of the fated wedding group: bride, groom, their respective parents, the best man and the two bridesmaids.

  I've dabbed most of the servants,' Yardley, was saying, 'We made a bit of a game of it and no-one complained.'

  'I took one or two photos to soften 'em up,' added Nash. 'They do like a nice group. I'll make it right with you, of course.'

  Felix looked up from packing his pipe. 'Oh, I think the tax-payer can stand that, John.'

  'I also dabbed Mr Partridge, His Grace's agent,' said Yardley. 'Pleasant old chap. He said he wasn't up at the house on wedding day but he did report to the Duke occasionally until he got too poorly, so I thought I'd better get him. I didn't bother with the stable hands or gardeners as none were here then and they never come indoors. As for the family, Mr Merriman provided a wineglass with the Duke's on – I hope that's all right – and I've got Lord and Lady Welmford's. She's a smashing-looking woman, isn't she? Charming too, and very interested in what I was doing. There's a nanny who also acts as a governess – or maybe it's the other way round – but she was out somewhere with the little ones, so I haven't done her yet. She only arrived last year. They have their own staff who seldom use the servants' hall except to catch up on the gossip. They have a little room of their own at Lord George's end. Apart from the nanny, there's a cook, a maid and His Lordship's valet. I got them too; mainly so I could talk to them. None were here in nineteen-fourteen. It's a completely different atmosphere at that end, I thought. More modern, if you know what I mean. No Duchess, I'm afraid. I did ask the Major about her, but he told me I hadn't a hope and shouldn't even try. I thought I'd best get your views on that.'

  They waited while Felix completed lighting his pipe before tossing the match into the overflowing ashtray. 'He appears to speak for her, so you can probably take that as an official refusal. We'll leave her for now, I think. What about the Major himself?'

  'Yes, I've got his. He confirmed he'd been up to identify the body and he left some dabs there to prove it. There are one or two of Alice Strong's dotted about the room but not on the trunk, plus four each of the Major's and Lord George's on the trunk lid, all left-hand ones, and a few of what are almost certainly Dick Maidment's, although they're mostly a bit smudged or overlain by the others. There are also lots on the hasp, too mixed up and partial to tell whose, so several people probably used it to lift the lid initially, as you'd perhaps expect.

  'Their Lordships appear to have held the lid open by its side, once it was up, and theirs are generally quite good. They were pretty sweaty, I expect. The lid won't stay up on its own without the batten holding it as the cord is broken, and it won't push right back. The break is an old one, and one of the hinges looks to be broken as well. There are also some quite good dabs of the doctor's left hand, so I'm glad I remembered to do him or we'd have wondered whose they were. They're consistent with his supporting himself on the left-hand side of the trunk while checking her teeth and so on. There are also three of his on the bit of batten used to prop it open, so that seems to have been his idea. Both the Maidments' are on the wardrobe that was pulled across the doorway, and there are also some others there, rather poor and so far unidentified. They're perhaps the most interesting, but we'll need John's enlargements and I'm not very hopeful then.'

  'Any strange ones on the trunk?'

  No. It's disappointing. It's obviously capable of taking a good one. I did wonder if it had been wiped over – it seems surprisingly clean – but perhaps they simply don't last that long. It was always a long shot, you know. There was a lot of fluffy dust in places, which might absorb the oils eventually, or they might simply evaporate. None of the fancy tests helped.'

  'We also experimented with opening and closing the lid, sir,' said Nash. 'I'd say it's almost impossible to make it crash down hard enough to render someone unconscious, unless with help. The angle is all wrong for the dented head anyway. And although the lid fits fairly tightly there are one or two little splits and gaps that would let at least some air in, and she could probably have pushed the lid up a bit against the hasp if she'd been conscious. I'v
e taken some close-ups and made some drawings.'

  Felix took a couple of puffs at his pipe. 'Pity about the lack of old dabs, but sterling work anyway, you two. We're still agreed, I presume, that she was probably unlawfully killed?' He looked around him, receiving their assent. 'Good. However, it seems that for now we shall have to base that hypothesis solely on the positioning of the wardrobe and the unlikelihood of a simple accident. I must say, I'm rather disappointed with Carrington's report. He can't find what's not there, of course, and one can't fault it for detail – in fact, I've learned more about the lady's various organs and their state of preservation than I might have wished for – but there's precious little we can use.'

  'He did warn us,' said Rattigan.

  'Yes he did. I suspect he knew then it'd be pretty hopeless from our point of view. Interesting for him, no doubt. Probably penning his Lancet article as we speak: "Natural Mummification in a Twelve Year Old Cadaver."'

  'Perhaps we've been a bit spoiled by Benyson; he's always prepared to speculate off the record.'

  'So might Carrington, I suppose. Maybe I'll go and see him. To give him his due, he does say what he can't rule out, including third party smothering, which I'd wondered about. That's a possibility that the Duchess conveniently neglected to mention.'

  'Difficult enough to prove at the best of times.'

  'Yes it is. However, coming on to the witnesses, if one can call them that. We seem to have talked to all those still here who were at the wedding, but of course they only constitute a fraction of the hundreds present that night. The killer or killers might well be long gone, or dead, as might those who could have provided us with useful information. How many on the guest list, Paul?'

  'A hundred and eighty-six, sir, plus the forty or so servants.'

  Felix nodded grimly. 'Where on earth does one begin? However, we must do our best. I know I always stress opportunity over motive, but here I think we might usefully look at motive first and work from there. Why would anyone murder an inoffensive and seemingly somewhat sheltered young woman of twenty-four on her wedding night? I should remind you that she'd removed her jewellery for the bothering – or at any rate, it was found in her room – so robbery seems unlikely, unless for her rings, although there's probably an innocent explanation for those. Ideas please, gentlemen.' He looked around the table. 'John?'

  Leaning back in his chair, Sergeant Nash blew a neat smoke ring before replying. 'Rape,' he said. 'A certain type of man could get quite excited by this bride-bothering thing, chasing a young woman about the place.'

  'Took a chance on it while she was hiding, do you mean?' said Felix encouragingly. 'Or attempting to hide.'

  'Yes. Steals a kiss, she protests, and before he knows it, he's done her in. It was probably in a bedroom, so a well-placed pillow would do it, or gets her face down on the mattress. The knock on the bonce was during the struggle.'

  'The daughter of a Duke on her wedding night?' said Yardley incredulously. 'He'd need some brass for that!'

  'Why not? Look how some of these toffs behave in town, and they gets away with it. If not rape then jealousy — some old flame that's turned up at the wedding. "If I can't have you, my darlin', no-one else will." Happens all the time.'

  Felix smiled. Raised in London's violent and frequently lawless East End, Nash's view of human nature tended towards the elemental. Sadly, he was often right. 'All right, John — duly noted. Paul?'

  'But would there have been any men around at that time?' asked Yardley. 'You said it was only girls doing the bothering. I'd have thought a wandering male might have been a bit conspicuous, especially if he was a stranger. People would have noticed him.'

  Felix nodded. 'Yes, it was just the two bridesmaids and a half-dozen others. And from what Lady George has told me, it was all a bit half-hearted anyway. In earlier times, according to Pearson, it was a proper free-for-all, with the girls trying to keep the bride from the groom and the young men trying to stop them. By nineteen-fourteen, it seems to have become more or less a game of hide and seek for the girls, with the men just sitting around smoking, although she did say the best man had a bit of a go.'

  'What do we know about him?' asked Nash.

  'Nothing at the moment, except he's dead. He was away from the smoking room for a up to half an hour, and in full view of the botherers for only a minute or two. We may have to take a closer look at him eventually, but witnesses might be hard to come by. However, remember that he – or anyone else for that matter – would have had to cart her along an unknown number of corridors, up the backstairs to a dark attic, and then through the clutter to the far end of it; not to mention shift a heavy wardrobe. We were discussing this earlier with regard to Lord Hoddersham, who is rather small and slight, but it would be quite a feat for most men. He would also have had to know where the attic was. A stranger would hardly have had time to do a recce before moving her.'

  'Not impossible, though.'

  'No, not impossible.'

  'It certainly wouldn't have been easy,' agreed Rattigan. 'She was a decent-sized girl by the look of her, not some little bit of a thing.'

  There was a moment of silence as they gazed at the photograph of the tall and well-fleshed young bride. It was hard to connect her with the shrivelled horror in the cabin trunk.

  'Could she have been up there already?' suggested Yardley. 'She might have arranged to meet someone — John's old flame, for example. It was out of bounds for the bothering, so they were unlikely to be discovered. She could have let him in at the fire-escape door, so he wouldn't even have needed to come through the house.'

  'Thank you, Paul!' said Nash, unaccustomed to receiving support from that quarter. 'That's a very good idea. Isn't it, sir?'

  'Yes it is,' agreed Felix. 'We'd wondered about her taking someone up there – which might include the best man, I suppose – but I'd forgotten about the fire escape. However, if it was a lover it means rethinking what we've been told of her character. We did suggest the possibility to a couple of people, including the groom, but were met with general incredulity.'

  'But they wouldn't necessarily know, would they?' said Nash. 'And these quiet ones often surprise you.'

  'It would certainly solve the moving of the body problem,' admitted Rattigan. 'I did wonder, though, before we move on, if it could have been a botherer that did it.'

  'Someone who wanted the groom and was prepared to kill her rival, do you mean?' said Felix. 'I hadn't thought of that.'

  'Well that's another one. I was thinking more of an accident while trying to capture her. Rather than own up to killing her, they panic and hide the body. Two of them might just have managed it.'

  'Did they search together, do you know?' asked Yardley, 'As opposed to individually?'

  'According to Lady George it was mostly the former, said Felix. 'Hunting in a pack, as she described it. But remember, they saw her alive at about ten-thirty, just before she went back to the ballroom. It's the last half-hour that matters, and we've no witnesses to that.'

  'So at eleven they were supposed to stop the bothering?' asked Nash.

  'Yes. And by eleven-thirty they'd begun to search for her. I should imagine that by twelve o'clock everyone was at it.

  'Is there any reason why she shouldn't have been killed later?' said Yardley. 'She was never seen again, after all.'

  'Even as people were searching, do you mean? said Felix. No, I suppose not, although the risk of discovery would presumably have been much greater. And what was she doing beforehand?'

  'It could have been at any time until they started searching, though, and even a little after, especially if it happened in the attic. Do we know when they searched it?'

  'Not yet, no, except it was that night.'

  'But why hadn't she returned to the arms of her husband?' said Rattigan. 'It seems more likely to me that she was dead by then.'

  'Paul's right you know, Teddy,' said Felix. 'If she was detained in some way, it could have been after eleven. I suppose we'd be
tter say that death occurred between ten-thirty and about twelve, if probably not much later. Another possibility, by the way, is that she knew something she shouldn't have.'

  'Killed to shut her up?'

  'Yes. The last chance to silence her before she left home for good.'

  'There's a world of possibilities there.'

  'Well yes, there is. Shouldn't be ignored, though.'

  Rattigan, consulting his notebook. 'So we have incompetent robbery, accidental killing, fatal knowledge, jealousy, or rape. That ought to keep us out of mischief!'

  'I favour sex,' said Nash. 'It's always sex with young women. If it's a jealous boyfriend, you're looking for the sort of fellow she'd let up her skirts but wouldn't marry. Not enough class, perhaps, or the family wouldn't approve. And if it's rape, I'd look for some frustrated little toff of twenty or so. Thinks he's the bee's knees but women don't. Wanders about looking for some unfortunate maid to roger, bumps into the bride and decides to take a chance. Bit of a reputation, very likely, and might even be known to us. If the Hun didn't get him, he's probably unhappily married, deep in debt and sponging off his father-in-law. Pick all the thirty-two year olds out of the guest list and line 'em up. There's a good chance he'll be there.'

  'Well! What can you say?' asked Rattigan, to general amusement. 'The man's a marvel. What colour would his hair be, John?'

  'Tell me what's wrong with it, then,' said Nash, defensively.

  Left alone, the two men recharged their pipes and sat for a while in silent contemplation.

  'I'm warming to Paul's tryst in the attic,' said Felix. 'Although I suppose they share the honours for that one. We must get it right, or it'll be pistols at dawn.'

  Rattigan pulled a face. 'You've noticed, have you? Still, a bit of competition does no harm. But would she really have had a chance to acquire a jealous lover? She lived at home, and spent much of her time with Miss Brown.'

  'I agree it's unlikely. But as John rightly says, how would one know?'

  'Miss Brown might. In fact, she almost certainly would. You can't keep something like that from your maid.'