'A runt!'
Mr Fry laughed.'You should've seen the others! But it wasn't that. It was because I was bright and they didn't like it. My brother died in the war. Well, he made a big target. Daft bugger would go, though he could've got out of it, and then Dad died in an accident so I got the farm. Not this one; I've got a manager in that. Pigs.'
'What were you doing on the day of the wedding?'
'Skiving, mostly — I hated it. The only good thing about that place was the girls. Really pretty, some of them. I reckon they picked 'em for it.' He indicated with a jerk of his head, the outbuildings. 'Well, I married one. I had to work at it though — pigs smell!' He laughed again at his own humour. Almost everything made Mr Fry laugh. 'They had me helping in the ballroom, collecting glasses, but when the bride-bothering started I bunked off upstairs to watch. You know about the bothering I suppose?' 'Only too well. What did you see?'
'Not much. They went past a couple of times, all in a bunch, and Lady Genny once. But later I heard her.'
'Did you now! What was she doing, the first time?'
'Running. Holding her skirts up, like so.' He delicately dangled thumbs and forefingers. 'I love that — ladylike. I wanted to see the wedding but I couldn't, so I thought I'd watch the bothering instead. I remember being disappointed because she had her veil down. Usually she'd smile at me. The others just looked through you, but she always used to smile. She was a smashing girl. Who would want to kill her?'
'We don't yet know if it's murder, Mr Fry. Did you feel that anything was troubling her, when you saw her?'
'Not really. But as I say, I could hardly see her face.'
'You may not be able to answer this, but as you noticed her hands, can you remember if she was wearing her jewellery at that point, and particularly her rings?'
Mr Fry considered this. 'Definitely her rings. I don't remember any jewellery, and I think I would have if there'd been any.'
'Mr Fry, that's excellent. And can you give us some sort of time for that? As far as we can tell, it was during the bothering that she disappeared, so any times we can collect are useful.'
Mr Fry looked doubtful. 'I remember what she looked like because I was interested, but I don't know so much about times. Maybe around ten o'clock? It's a long time ago, you know. Also, I was sloshed.'
'At fourteen! How did you manage that?'
'Dregs in the glasses. I was a horrible child, I'm afraid.'
'I see. So what did you do then? When did you hear Lady Genny?'
'That was later. First I wandered about for a bit. It's all rather hazy, to be honest. Then I got in a fight, with another boy.'
'Inevitably. No need to ask who won, presumably?'
Mr Fry laughed again. 'I wasn't so big in those days, but I could use my fists. He was two years older than me and thought he could boss me around. He told me to go downstairs and wouldn't let me pass, so I shoved him and he shoved me and the upshot was he got a bloody nose and ran off crying. I was a bit knocked about myself, come to that. They used to come down hard on fighting, so I suppose I knew then I was done-for. I didn't care about that, they could sack me if they liked, but I was scared of getting a belting, so I looked for somewhere to hide. I tried a few doors and found a broom-cupboard. At least, I think it was a broom-cupboard. I had a pee in it anyway.'
Making little snorting noises, Rattigan involuntarily blew his nose.
'Mrs Fry is right; you're a wicked man,' said Felix, handing his sergeant a handkerchief. 'What happened next?'
'Well then I heard Lady Genny, so I buttoned up quick, in case she'd seen me and made me come out.'
'What did she say?'
'She was calling for her maid, but quietly-like, almost whispering. She said, "Are you there, Ginny?" That was her name, Ginny Brown. Best of the lot, she was — lovely girl. I don't think she was calling to me. I mean, she didn't think Ginny was in the cupboard. She sounded as though she was a few feet away. I waited for a while, wondering if she was still there, and after a bit I heard Lord George and Major Mortimer coming along. They were talking to each other and to another man whose voice I didn't know.'
'What sort of voice did the other fellow have? A servant, a guest?'
'An above-stairs sort of voice — cultured. It was a bit heated. Not an argument, more like excited.'
'I don't suppose you know what time this was?'
'Not really. When did the bothering start?'
'We're told nine-thirty.'
'Well I must have been up there an hour, so ten-thirty or thereabouts? Only a guess, mind.'
'Can you remember what was said?'
Mr Fry shook his head. 'No, I don't think I can. If I thought about it I might.'
'Perhaps you could try. What floor was this on?'
'Probably the third. Yes, it was the third, because I remember being marched downstairs by Legg. He had me by the ear and it hurt! Later, of course, they found Lady Genny had disappeared, and with all the upset I thought they'd forgotten about me, They hadn't though, because the next day, Dad came and took me away.'
'And gave you a good lamming.'
'Didn't he just! But I didn't go back. They'd have had to carry me.'
'Well-deserved by the sound it. Did you tell the police all this?'
'No, they never asked.'
Felix was silent for a moment. 'Mr Fry, it's a bit of an imposition, but would you be prepared to come back to the house and look for this broom cupboard? You're the last person we know about who heard Lady Genny speak, which makes where and when it happened very important. Also it might help you to recall Lord George and the others' conversation.'
'In case they don't?' enquired Mr Fry, chuckling.
'I'm not trying to catch anyone out. Obviously I'll get them to confirm it.'
Mr Fry glanced out of the window. 'All right. It would be interesting the see the old place again. I think I'd best bring my own car, though, don't you?'
'Makes me feel quite dainty,' said Rattigan as they motored back. 'I shouldn't want to upset him, would you?'
'Pretty hard to do, I should think. Rather an engaging character — big in every way. I wonder who the other fellow was?'
'The Marquis, do you suppose?'
'Well, he was up there – according to Miss Shaddock anyway – though I really can't see him as a murderer. But coming back to Lady Genny. There she is, still being pursued, for aught she knows, by at least some of the botherers, but she nevertheless stops to call out to her maid, whom she clearly believes to be still in the building. Where would she have expected to find her?'
'In her rooms? Lady Genny's rooms, that is. Looks in and calls out, "Are you there, Ginny?"'
Felix nodded. 'That's what I thought. They've agreed between them that Miss Brown should wait for her there but she's not to be found, so she decides to look for her in her own room. How's that? Not only gets her to the attic, but no assignation required.'
'Which also suggests she's pretty eager to see her.'
'Yes, it does. But once there, she encounters her murderer instead.'
'Or he follows her up there.'
'Yes, I suppose that's more likely. Thereby explaining the floorboard creak and the possible look of fear. Well, something along those lines. It's one of those sequences of events one feels must be right but probably isn't. Elements of it might be though.'
'I'd call it a good working hypothesis myself,' said Rattigan. 'That's assuming Mr Fry's broom cupboard turns out to be nearby. She called her maid Ginny, I noticed. A bit informal for those days, I'd have thought, unless she was sure there was no-one else around. It does make you wonder, doesn't it? They went riding together, learned French together, dressed like sisters, used first names and appear to have been generally inseparable. You can see why the likes of Miss Yates might think there was something between them. Can we be sure there wasn't?'
'And had a falling out over the marriage, perhaps? After which Miss Brown, further upset by the Duchess, pushed off without saying goodbye
? Well, it's possible, I suppose. I wish to God we could find the confounded woman.'
'They've let it go a bit,' said Henry Fry. He was standing at the door of the state drawing-room peering in. 'I expected it to look smaller – things do, don't they? – but not that.'
They had given him his head, following him up from the ballroom in the hope that he might be able to retrace his steps. It seemed, however, that he'd wandered fairly aimlessly about, following the sound of the botherers.
'I didn't go in,' he said, half lost in thought. 'There were some people in here, I do remember that, so I thought I'd best not. I came this way because by then it was getting dark indoors, and I guessed they wouldn't go into the disused part as it wasn't lit.'
He led them south along the linoleum-floored corridor. Here there were relatively few doors, each helpfully labelled with the room's function.
'Billiard room,' said Rattigan, peering inside.
'Card-room, sewing room, library,' said Mr Fry, pointing. 'It's all coming back.'
'It's taller and wider than the third floor corridors,' said Felix. 'Can you remember if that was the case where you saw Lady Genny?'
'No, it wasn't. Because I stood against the wall to let her go by, and you wouldn't need to do that here. I came this way, though, I'm sure of it, so I probably went up the south stairs.'
They turned many corners and ascended an apparently little-used staircase to emerge on the third floor. Almost immediately, he paused. 'This is where I saw them first — the botherers. They turned down that side passage, a crowd of them.'
'How do you know?'
'Because of the picture.' He indicated an indifferent copy of Constable's The Hay Wain. 'It used to remind me of home. Moments later they came rushing back and ran off in the direction we've just come from. I think one of them asked if I'd seen her. Yes, they did. I remember now.'
'But you hadn't?'
'No, but just then she came from where they'd been and ran past me going that way,' he pointed along the main corridor, 'in the opposite direction.'
'Did they follow?'
'No. They'd gone downstairs by then. I could hear them squealing and giggling and someone was making ghost noises — woo woo!'
'Then what did you do?'
'Well, somewhere along here I had the fight with Jim Trickett. I can't be quite sure where. You have to remember it was pretty dark by then. It all looks different in the dark, with just the odd oil-lamp dotted about. I see they've got the electric now.'
They walked on, Mr Fry, grinning broadly, clearly enjoying himself.
'This is becoming interesting,' said Felix. 'Terra cognita.'
'I'd say it was about here — the fight' said Mr Fry suddenly. 'Yes, I'm sure it was. Then I looked for somewhere to hide.'
'So now we need a broom cupboard.'
'This?' suggested Rattigan, and threw open a well-used door somewhat narrower than the others. 'Hmm, brooms, pails, mops. Quite large too.'
'It could be the one,' agreed Mr Fry, 'although it was to dark to see properly.'
'And almost next to Lady Genny's rooms,' said Felix with satisfaction. 'Our hypothesis holds.'
'Why of course!' cried Mr Fry suddenly. 'I remember now — I saw him! Of course I did. I saw Lord George. He shouted something or other and scooted away.' He pointed. 'It must have been in that direction.'
'Well done, Mr Fry! Possibly heading for the service door, then? Did he turn off there?'
Mr Fry shook his head. 'I don't know; I only had a peek. That was when old Leggy got me.'
'What about the other two?'
'I'm not sure. I don't think I saw them.'
'Could the third man have been Legg?'
'No, I knew his voice all right!'
'Can you remember now whom they were talking about? Was it about Lady Genny, do you think?'
But Mr Fry wasn't listening. He had become transfixed by a small, bent figure, burdened, as usual, with the tools of her trade. Turning, he walked diffidently towards her. 'Gladys?' he frowned. 'Gladys Fripp? It is you, isn't it?'
Miss Fripp stopped and gazed blankly up at him. 'Why, it's Henry!' she exclaimed. 'Henry Fry, as I live and breath! I expect you want to carry my bucket.'
But Henry had fallen on his knees before her, his hands on her shoulders and concern in his eyes. 'Oh my pretty Gladys! What have they done to you?'
'You didn't tell them, did you?' said Mrs Fry, heaping beef stew onto his plate. 'I should be cross if you did. I was cross that you went with them. You never said.'
Mr Fry gestured around him. 'After all this! What do you take me for? I wouldn't tell on my deathbed.'
'But won't they be able to work it out? They're Scotland Yard.'
'They might and they might not. I didn't tell them any of that, and I never made any promises about the rest. The poor girl was murdered, Ethel. They wouldn't say so, but she must have been. I want the bastard caught. By the way, how would you like someone to help you in the dairy? You're always complaining about it.'
'Oh, and who might that be?'
Chapter 12
Finding no-one in the estate office, Felix was about to retrace his steps when he heard her. She was alone in a stall, talking gently to the grey stallion as one might a child. Puffs of dust and loose hair flew off him as she industriously brushed his coat. She was wearing trousers, a man's check shirt and a flat cap, and her face was streaked with dirt. Thinking she might be embarrassed, he made to move away but she called him back.
'Did you want me, Inspector? I'm not a very edifying sight, I'm afraid, but if you don't mind that — '
'Your beauty shines through, My Lady,' chuckled Felix. 'I was hoping to find His Lordship.'
Lady George gave him a reproving smile. 'Mr Felix, you're worse than an Irishman. George is out riding with Augustus. He shouldn't be more than an hour or so.' She turned at the arrival of the boy. 'What is it, Harry?'
'Telephone m'lady.'
'Who is it calling?'
'Dunno m'lady.'
Lady George sighed. 'Harry, you must always ask who is calling and then tell me. Is that so difficult? Excuse me please, Inspector.'
Left alone with the stallion, Felix companionably rubbed its withers. 'Goodness me, old chap, you'll be quite the dandy when she's done with you. Still, if you don't like it, you can always have a nice roll in the mud. Would you care for a peppermint at all? You would? Well we must ask your mistress first, but if you back me up she'll probably agree to it.'
'As long as it's just the one, said Lady George. She had come up close behind him and he felt something akin to an electrical shock from her nearness. He wondered if she'd felt it too, but she simply stooped and picked up her brush. 'Do you mind if I get on while we talk? I have to go out shortly.'
'What's this gentleman's name?' he asked.
'Páraic. Not very imaginative, I'm afraid.'
'Here you are then, Páraic,' said Felix, solemnly feeding him the mint. 'I'll leave the bag, and if you're very good, you may get another tomorrow.' He moved out of her way and leant against the stable door, watching her at work. You are perfection, he thought wistfully. Everything a man could want. This man, anyway. 'What sort of life did you live in Ireland?' he asked.
Lady George shrugged. 'Not much different really. My people breed Irish Draughts. When I saw the stables here I thought maybe we could do something with them. We bought in some stock and it's going quite well. I can't do much about the house at the moment, for obvious reasons.'
There's steel there, thought Felix. She'll have the Duchess out before you can say dowager. 'What would you do with it, if you had it?'
Bent over a hock, she didn't reply. 'Was Miss Shaddock any use at all?' she asked. 'She's a bit odd, isn't she? I felt rather sorry for her.'
'Very useful, yes. Though I'm afraid you've upset Rattigan; he doesn't care for cats.'
Unexpectedly she gave a girlish giggle. 'Oh dear, really? I'm afraid I couldn't resist it. I wanted you to walk in and be amazed. Did
they all stare at you? And the smell! I suppose we can trust her story?'
'I'd say she's incapable of deception. As for her recall, one can't be sure about anyone's after so long, but we'll probably be able to corroborate some of it.'
'Andrew, do you mean?'
'Yes. We met him when he arrived but we haven't interviewed him yet.'
'He's a little unwell. I'm sure he'll be available later.'
'Does he come home often?'
'Not often. He prefers the bright lights, I think. There's not much for him here.'
'What about you? Do you like the bright lights?'
Still crouching, she stopped what she was doing and frowned up at him. 'Mr Felix, are you married?'
He smiled and shook his head. 'No.'
'Then you should be, or no woman is safe.'
'Why do you say that?'
'You know perfectly well why. Now behave yourself, or Páraic will bite you!'
Returning from lunch, Felix had Rattigan park at the front again. 'Somehow, Teddy, I don't think Pearson is going to complain.'
'Rattigan chuckled. 'Old Dot and Carry One? No, I doubt he will. Hello, here they are again.'
Two mounted men, last seen at a distance, proved to be Augustus Partridge and Lord George.
'Hello, Inspector,' said His Lordship, gazing with interest at the tiny car. 'Are you ready to interview me yet?'
'Any time you're free, sir. I was looking for you earlier.'
'Well I'm going home now if you want to come along. Give me a few minutes.'
Felix paused on the portico steps to watch them trot towards the stables. 'They say you can tell a lot about a man,' he mused, 'by the way he rides a horse.'
'Is that so, sir? What can you tell about His Lordship?'
But before he could reply, there came a heavy thump inside the front door, a high-pitched scream and a good deal of juvenile shouting. Letting themselves into the hall, they discovered Sam attempting to extricate a weeping child of four or five from her capsized bicycle.
Death of a Lady (The Inspector Felix Mysteries Book 1) Page 14
