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

by R. A. Bentley

  'And silver buttons, I believe?'

  'Yes.'

  'On the coat and breeches?'

  'Yes.'

  'Did you enjoy wearing all that?'

  'I counted it a privilege, sir.'

  'So perhaps you don't care for the modern uniform?'

  'It also has it's merits.'

  'Mr Pearson, you are the soul of discretion. Now, the silver buttons. Would you be able to remember what they looked like?'

  'Yes, of course.'

  Felix took a button from his pocket. 'Is this one of them?'

  Hampered by the handcuffs, the butler turned it awkwardly in his hand. 'No, sir. This is the modern replacement.'

  'Can you tell me what the difference is?'

  'The face is identical, sir, being struck, I believe, from the same die. The back and shank, however, are of a different-coloured alloy, the previous ones being no longer obtainable. I still have my original uniform, should you wish to compare them.'

  Felix took back the button. 'Thank you. So this button, which was discovered by the builders at the far end of the attic, would not furnish proof that you had been there in nineteen-fourteen?'

  'It would not, sir. And I should like to reiterate that I have never in my life been inside it, then or since.'

  Felix nodded to Nash who produced a key. 'Thank you very much, Mr Pearson. And thank you also for so sportingly agreeing to be arrested for the afternoon. I hope you have not been too much incommoded. You may go if you wish, or you might like to stay. I'll leave it to you.'

  'The butler looked hesitantly towards his mistress. 'I believe I shall stay, sir, thank you.'

  'Well now,' said Felix, allowing into his voice a certain weariness. 'In the light of that little piece of evidence, will the murderer now show his metal and confess?'

  Still no-one spoke, and when a loud rap came at the door, several of them distinctly jumped.

  'Ah! I believe we have a latecomer,' said Felix, and felt his heart beat faster as Yates hastened to admit Sergeants Yardley and Rattigan. Brought into the light, the woman between them proved to be tall, slim and fair-haired. Her clothes were elegant and her bearing patrician, but her pale features were devoid of any readable expression.

  'Damn you, Felix!' snarled Lord Andrew and was immediately at her side. 'Mother, I believe you know my wife Virginia, Lady Andrew Mortimer.'

  The Duchess slowly rose. Her eyes were staring and her mouth agape. 'That cannot be!' she cried. 'It must not be! I forbid it! George? Gerald! Tell him! Tell him!'

  'All right, Inspector,' said the Major, who, barely noticed, was also on his feet. 'I confess. It was I who killed my niece.'

  A rising susurration now filled the room, exclamations of amazement, anger and disbelief.

  Felix waited until only the anguished weeping of the Duchess remained. 'Thank you, Major. Perhaps you will kindly go with these officers.'

  And Sergeants Yardley and Nash led the killer of Lady Genevieve Mortimer away.

  Leaning alone on the paddock gate, Augustus Partridge seemed not to have moved since Felix last saw him.

  'I see they got the roof back on,' he said, inclining his head towards the house. 'Just in time, probably.'

  'Rain by tonight,' agreed Felix, settling beside him.

  They watched the horses for a while in companionable silence. A trio of colts chased each other about, and in the adjoining field, a foal began suckling its dam. It was a pleasant sight, and they smiled and nodded to each other.

  'So which are yours?' asked Felix. 'The twins, or all three of them?'

  Partridge sighed resignedly and briefly rested his forehead on his arms. 'I knew you'd find out, soon as I saw you. Come on.'

  He led the way round the outside of the stable-yard to a row of tiny cottages, not unlike that of Elsie Strong. They shared their back walls with the buildings of the yard, and were, as intended, invisible from the house. It was immediately clear that he lived alone. The pleasantly sunlit kitchen was clean enough, but apart from some framed photographs it was devoid of a woman's touch. A heap of tack lay on the scrubbed table.

  'I were married once,' said Partridge, as if reading his thoughts. 'She died.'

  'We have that in common then,' said Felix.

  'That so? Life's a bugger, ain't it?'

  'Sometimes it is. You're not obliged to tell me anything, you know. I've no power to force you to. Nor would I.'

  Partridge gestured to him to sit down before reaching into a cupboard. 'Pale ale all right?'

  'I'd be glad of one.'

  'She used ter ride a good deal in them days,' he began, producing some glasses. 'Not a bad horsewoman, I suppose. Too much whip for my liking, but not bad. She generally had someone with her – the Duke or the Major, maybe a guest – but one day she turned up alone. "I want you to come with me," she said.

  'I were only a junior groom then, so I were a bit surprised, but I saddled up and we rode across to the wood you can see from the window, over beyond the east drive. It were left as covert mainly and a bit neglected, so we had ter dismount and lead the horses into it. Eventually she laid down, hoisted up her skirts and told me ter get on with it. She didn't have no drawers on, so I didn't need much encouragement. She hadn't been married more'n a year or so, so I figured she probably weren't gettin' it off the Duke for some reason. She were a good-lookin' woman then – still is, I suppose – so it were no hardship.

  'Anyhow, that's how it started. She never hardly spoke; we just done the business and come back. After two or three months she asked me if it usually took that long to get pregnant, so then I knew what her game was. I said it varied, but if that's what she wanted, she might as well enjoy it while she were at it, which she didn't seem to be doin', and made a few suggestions. That were a novel idea to her, I think, but she done as she were told and eventually got quite keen. Whether it were that done the trick I don't know, but she fell for the twins soon after.'

  'And that's when you were promoted to Agent?'

  Partridge smiled. 'Stud fees? Maybe. Not until the old one retired though. I'd worked up to Head Groom before that.'

  'What about Lord Andrew?'

  'Yes, he's mine. Two year later she come back, wantin' a spare, I suppose. Once she fell for him, though, that were that. I've always reckoned, you know, that the Duke knew all about it and approved. It might even have been his idea. He were always very nice to me, before he got poorly.'

  'Wasn't he capable, then?'

  'I reckon not. He were a great one for the ladies by all accounts, before he were married, and some say he caught something'

  'The clap, do you mean?'

  'No, both barrels!' Partridge gave a brittle chuckle, then fell silent. 'You got kids, Inspector?'

  'Call me Miles. No, I'd have liked them. You've been very loyal to Her Grace. Thirty-six years, is it? A long time.'

  'Sod the fuckin' Duchess!'cried Partridge. 'I've been loyal to me kids.' Suddenly his eyes filled with tears. 'I loved my Genny, Miles. She were everything to me.'

  'Augustus,' said Felix. 'I'm truly sorry for your loss.'

  Chapter 16

  They've caught your likeness very well, I thought,' said Sir Neville, 'and that sergeant of yours.'

  Felix studied the front page with disapproval. 'Rather too well for my liking, sir. We try to keep out of the public eye, you know.'

  Sir Neville nodded. 'That's what I surmised. But don't worry; it's only the weekly rag and I've put a word in where it matters, so it won't be syndicated. I couldn't do much about Partridge without drawing undue attention to him, but they can't know anything – probably just attracted to the beard – and from what you tell me, I don't suppose he'll split. If he does, of course, there's not much we can do about it. This is a damned ticklish business all round, thanks to you lot, and is going to need careful handling. They've been our leading family for several hundred years, and I'm not having the press making monkeys of them if I can help it. Here we are, your hostelry. Didn't have the best of
reputations at one time. Cheap, though, I daresay.'

  Much to the interest of the lunchtime loungers and passers-by, the Chief Constable's driver pulled the Daimler onto the tiny forecourt of the Bridge Inn, Welmford, and neatly parked there. One or two low types were seen to sidle quietly away.

  'Thanks for the lift, sir,' said Felix, his hand on the door-handle. 'Much appreciated. I'll get my report to you as soon as I can.'

  'I'm sure you will, dear boy,' said Sir Neville. 'I was wondering, actually, if I might come in and congratulate your chaps. That's if you don't think they'll be too embarrassed.'

  'Why of course, sir; I'm sure they'll be delighted,' said Felix, who knew an order when he heard one. 'Stay and have a drink with us.'

  'Yes, I will, thankee. I take it you've no secrets from them, Felix? Professionally, I mean. Nothing I shouldn't say?'

  'Goodness no, sir. Nor would they bruit a word without my permission. Some of them don't know everything about the case yet, but that's because I haven't had time to fill them in.'

  'Good. Then you can "fill me in as well,"' said Sir Neville, tapping him on the knee. 'No time like the present, what? I should like to get a sense of the case before anything goes down on paper.'

  'I see, sir.'

  'I'm sure you do, Felix; you're a clever chap. Now you mustn't feel inhibited, just behave as you normally would and pretend I'm not there.'

  Cosily ensconced in the snug-bar and already well-lubricated, Felix's team accepted the Chief Constable's presence with polite bonhomie. He, for his part, was as good as his word, sitting a little to one side and nursing his pint in uncharacteristic silence. Not, however, before speaking to the barman, who quietly locked the door.

  Striving, a little self-consciously, for the informality that normally characterised their briefing sessions, Felix allowed himself a pipe and a beer before getting down to business, choosing to begin with Augustus Partridge.

  'Old Partridge and the Duchess!' marvelled Yardley when he'd finished. 'Who would have thought?'

  'Probably happens all the time,' declared Nash, lighting a cigarette. 'They like a bit of rough handling, these society women.'

  'Well it certainly didn't occur to me,' said Felix amid the general mirth, 'until, that is, I noticed the similarity in their riding styles — Lord George and Partridge, that is. Partridge had taught him, of course, so it's hardly surprising, but I've also heard it remarked of my own family, where we mainly learn by falling off. It's all bunk as far as I'm concerned, but it got me thinking on those lines, and little observations that had been troubling me began to make sense. Partridge, for example, was unable to hide his pride in Genny, and I suddenly saw it for what it was. She was his favourite, and eventually he told her the truth. She, in turn, told the Major, and that, of course, was how it started. The Major was a lonely man whose invalid wife couldn't give him children or, latterly, physical love, and Genny was a comely young woman in rude health who shared his attachment to horses. He was fourteen years older than she, but he was still a good-looking fellow, and it was perhaps inevitable that they'd become close. Though shy in society, Genny had an appetite for risk that owed nothing to her maid. Once she knew that she and the Major were not blood relations, she was as eager as he was to consummate their love, and may even have made the running.

  'For a couple of years they were happy, but Genny came under increasing pressure from her mother to marry, and eventually gave in. She may have sworn to the Major that nothing would change between them, but during the preparations for the wedding she would have got properly to know her future husband, and might have found him more attractive than she'd at first imagined. Probably she thought she could compete successfully for his affections with his older mistress, and if not, she'd still have Hoddersham. By contrast, her clandestine affair with her uncle may have begun to seem hopeless, and perhaps rather sordid.

  'Wedding day was a difficult time for the Major. Having endured the sight of Genny marrying another man, he was obliged to spend an afternoon and evening keeping vigil at his sick wife's bedside. Had he lost his lover for good? He must find out or go mad. By the time he returned to Godwinstowe, she was at the bride-bothering, but, desperate now, he wandered the corridors looking for her, realising it might be his last chance to speak to her privately. He couldn't have been very pleased to be caught up in the hunt for the absconding child, but it gave him an excuse to remain there, and eventually he found her, heading for the backstairs. Between them, however, was Dorothy Shaddock. Lurking in the darkness, he waited until Miss Shaddock had satisfied her curiosity regarding the service door – noting the ascent to the attic floor of Stan Pearson – and retraced her shambling steps towards the main corridor, there to meet Lord Andrew coming towards her.

  Only when Miss Shaddock had departed with His Lordship, was the Major able to continue. Seeing a dim light above him, he must have guessed it was where Genny had gone. It was, of course, the light from beneath Miss Brown's door, only just off the attic landing. We were under the misapprehension, you will recall, that Miss Brown had left for Welmford that afternoon, but in fact she'd never left the house. However, I'll come to that shortly.

  'Had the Major arrived a minute or two earlier, he would have encountered Stan Pearson and Miss Brown coming downstairs, which perhaps would have discouraged him. Pearson – unrequitedly in love with Miss Brown – had heard that morning about her precipitate resignation, but this was the first opportunity he'd had to see if she was all right. He'd correctly guessed that she'd been keeping out of Miss Yates' way, intending quietly to join her mistress when she left next day on her honeymoon. Arriving at her room, however, he was embarrassed to discover, not only Miss Brown but Genny herself.

  'Shooing, Pearson out, Miss Brown instructed Genny to close the door and bar it with the chair, the standard method in the north attic when anyone wanted some privacy. Then, fearful that the young footman might be found in the maids' accommodations – a sacking offence – she firmly escorted him downstairs, promising she would talk to him before she left. Having sent him on his way, she swiftly returned, first taking the opportunity to use the servants' lavatory on the first floor. She was probably gone ten minutes at most, but it was ten minutes too long.

  'We can only guess at what happed next, but I think we came assume that finding his entry refused, the Major angrily put his shoulder to the door, forcing it open and smashing the chair — the same chair, very likely, that is there now. Genny was not, of course, without courage, and it seems likely she now told him in no uncertain terms that their affair was finished. She may even have informed him that she was pregnant, or suspected she was, and must pass off his longed-for child as Lord Rempstock's. As most of us have discovered, young women can be quite as callous in their rejection of a lover as any man, and Genny was perhaps too naive to realise what effect this might have on him. Whatever transpired, the Major now exploded in fury, and Miss Brown returned to find him gazing, horror-stricken, at the body of her beloved friend. He tried to speak to her, but fearing a similar fate, she ran from him, down the fire escape and out of the house, never to return.'

  'Told you so,' said Nash, with satisfaction. 'Didn't I say it all along? Sex!'

  'Yes, John, you were quite right,' smiled Felix. 'Take a gold star. And, as we now know, Lady Genny's was not the only illicit affair at nineteen-fourteen Godwinstowe, for Lord Andrew and her maid were also secret lovers.

  'Bored with masculine company and ostensibly in search of tobacco, Lord Andrew had come to his room, hoping to find Miss Brown – who possessed a key – waiting for him as arranged. She was not there, and instead he encountered Miss Shaddock. Unwilling to leave this strange young woman alone, he escorted her downstairs to her waiting friends and returned to the smoking room. There he spoke briefly to Lord Rempstock, now returned from his wanderings upstairs, but finding his presence not required he continued to the ballroom where he dutifully danced a little and conversed with some of the guests.

  'Grad
ually, concern began to grow at Genny's continued absence, not least on the part of her increasingly irritable husband, and efforts were made to find her. When one thought of Genny, one automatically thought of her inseparable companion, and it now occurred to Miss Yates that if Miss Brown was still in the house, which she suspected, she might know where to find her mistress. No doubt she thought it unlikely that Genny would be in Miss Brown's room, but Miss Brown might be, and it was probably with some relish that she suggested she go and look. Hearing this, Pearson insisted on accompanying her. One never knew, he pointed out, what she might find. On the way up the backstairs he made a point of being more noisy than was strictly necessary, hoping to alert Miss Brown to their approach.

  'It was, however, the Major, who heard them. Having completed his grim task of concealment he was already on his way down and had no choice but to brazen it out. He forbade them at peril of their continued employment to mention they had seen him there, and they, perhaps understandably, did as instructed, simply reporting that neither girl was to be found. As time passed, they would come to believe that the Major was complicit in the elopement of Genny and Ginny.

  'Meanwhile, Lord Andrew had been alerted to the unfolding crisis. Hearing Pearson and Yates' report, he again slipped quietly up to his room, assuming that by now Miss Brown would be there. Perhaps, he thought, Genny would be too. But no-one was, and, somewhat concerned, he passed through the service door and ascended to Miss Brown's own room. He found it, as expected, stripped of all personal possessions, and it was with some relief that he threw open the cupboard door to discover her neatly packed suitcase and valise. Wherever she was, he realised, she hadn't run away. But where on earth could she have gone without at least leaving a note? Much troubled, he removed her belongings to his own room and returned to the hall.

  'The Duke himself now took command of the search for his daughter, with Lord Andrew, at his own suggestion, being put in charge of the grounds. Giving his party the slip, His Lordship made for the boathouse by the lake. There, in their customary trysting place, he found Miss Brown, hysterical with grief and fear. She begged him to take her away from Godwinstowe, and the following day he secretly did so, depositing her in a respectable Oxford hotel.