by Rhys Bowen
I started to walk back toward our motorcar. “You’re right,” Darcy agreed. “We’ll go straight to the Eggertons’ and then back to Idina’s.” He glanced at Freddie. “Someone is going to have to break the news to Lady Cheriton and his children.”
“I think that should be a job for the police, don’t you?”
“Unless someone at Idina’s has decided to break the news without permission,” Darcy said.
“I don’t think anyone here is a great friend of Angel. She keeps herself apart from most of the socializing here, you know. I think she hates it, if you want my opinion. Can’t wait to go back to Europe,” Freddie said.
Darcy’s eyes met mine for a fleeting second. A really good motive for having her husband killed. And she had the money to hire somebody to do it.
“Tell Eggerton that I am remaining on guard beside the body,” Dr. Singh said. “And I need some of his estate workers to help me keep guard until the police get here.”
“Of course. We’ll have Eggerton bring them to you,” Freddie said. “Take care, won’t you. If necessary retreat to your motorcar. You’ll be safe enough there.”
“You don’t think big cats will come after the body in the daylight, do you?” Singh sounded alarmed now.
“I doubt a big cat had anything to do with this,” Freddie said. “A hungry lion would not have left this much of the carcass. And if he was killed by a stab wound it would have been hyenas that were drawn by the scent. They don’t normally come back in the daylight but they can be very bold at times.”
“We’ll send help right away,” I said. “Let’s go, Darcy.”
We had to do a bit of maneuvering because the doctor’s little car was behind us on the narrow road, but finally we piled into Diddy’s splendid motor. I let out a little sigh of relief as we left that awful scene behind us. After less than a mile we came to a track leading off to our left, up toward the mountains. A simple sign beside it read, Lancers. Eggerton Estate.
“Lancers?” I asked.
“Major Eggerton was once with the Bengal Lancers,” Freddie said. “Very proud of the fact.”
“And yet he chose to settle in Africa, not India,” Darcy pointed out.
“I don’t think anyone chooses to stay in India with that climate,” Freddie replied.
The motorcar bumped and jerked over ruts as we drove up the narrow track. I was expecting a simple farmhouse or bungalow at the end of it but we came out of the trees and there was a palace. It was a white building with a dome in the center and columns along a graceful veranda. In front of it were manicured lawns, a pond covered in water lilies and lovely flowering trees.
“Wow.” Darcy sounded as startled as I felt. “I wasn’t expecting this. So the Eggertons live well, do they? Not exactly on his army pension.”
“He has family money and his farm does well too,” Freddie said. “You can see why Babe married him. No expense spared.”
As we approached the house a giant wolfhound rushed out, barking ferociously. We hesitated to get out of the car until a house servant emerged, running up to the dog and grabbing it by the collar. It still lunged at us, snarling.
“Sorry, bwanas. Sorry, memsabu,” he said. “He is a good watchdog.”
“He certainly is,” Freddie said. He got out, moving cautiously around the animal. “We have come to see your master.”
“I do not think that he is awake yet,” the man replied. “They go to a party last night and get home very late. I am sure the memsahib will stay asleep until midday. She is not an early riser. So may I suggest that you return later?”
“I’m afraid not,” Freddie said. “It is an important matter. There has been a murder. The police must be called.”
“A murder? A Kikuyu has been killed?”
“No, a white person,” Freddie said. “Can you please escort me to the telephone and go to wake your master?”
“Certainly, bwana. I will lock up the dog first. Please follow me.”
He led us up onto the broad veranda, furnished with comfortable rattan sofas and chairs. Then we stepped into an impressive central room—the one containing the dome. Colored light spilled in from above, throwing mosaic patterns onto a polished wood floor. There were the required animal heads on the walls and an enormous tiger skin in front of the fireplace. And all around were signs of a life in India: brass trays, statues of Hindu gods. The one thing I noticed was that everything in this room reflected Tusker Eggerton. His bride’s personality was quite absent. No wonder she was flattered when Lord Cheriton pursued her, I thought. And the possibility of maybe snagging herself a title must have been delicious. Poor Babe. She’d be devastated to learn that he was no more.
We were told to wait. Freddie was taken through to a telephone in the master’s study and soon returned. “I have spoken to the police in Nairobi and an inspector is on his way. I have been instructed to keep all the participants at Idina’s until he has a chance to get statements from all of them.”
“They won’t be pleased about that,” Darcy said.
“I know. Another reason to hate me. Only the fact that my uncle was a respected man in the colony prevents someone from sticking a knife into my back one night, I fear.”
“What an awful thing to say, Freddie,” I said. “You can’t mean that.”
“You have no idea how antigovernment the settlers are. Those of them who have been here a long time think that this is their land, carved from virgin forest, and it’s up to them to do what they like with it. And I have to admit that some of the government regulations are a little strict. You have to get permission to remove water from a stream that flows through your property . . . things like that can put backs up.”
“I can see that,” Darcy agreed. “I’m not too thrilled about rules and regulations myself.”
“Of course you aren’t. You’re another maverick. You’d do well in Kenya.”
“Absolutely. Then Georgie and I could go to one of those parties every week, eh, Georgie?” He grinned as he said it.
“Don’t tempt me. I might take you up on that,” I replied. “When I become bored with you.”
Chapter 23
AUGUST 12
AT TUSKER EGGERTON’S HOUSE, CALLED LANCERS
It’s clearer to me now why a young woman like Babe married a chubby older man like Tusker Eggerton. He obviously has buckets of money! And of course they were the only couple who had the means to kill Bwana. They had left the party shortly before he did. I wonder if I’ll be able to ask questions?
We were laughing so we didn’t hear the footsteps at first. Then Tusker Eggerton came storming into the room, tying the cord on his robe round him as he walked. He was a big florid man and the robe only just covered enough to show that he was naked beneath it.
“What the devil is this all about?” he demanded. “I might have known it was you, Blanchford. Exceeding your authority again, I don’t doubt. Bloody government prig.”
“Not at all, sir,” Freddie said. “I was sent here by the government medical examiner, Dr. Singh. He needs to borrow some of your workers immediately. There has been a murder and the body needs to be protected until the police can examine it.”
“Some bloody native has been topped in one of their fights?” Eggerton blustered. “I don’t see what that has to do with me or mine.”
“Not a native, sir,” Freddie said. “One of your neighbors. Lord Cheriton.”
“Bwana? Bwana has been murdered? But that’s not possible. He was at Idina’s party all last night. Are you sure?”
“Perfectly sure. Not far from here, as it happens.” Freddie was keeping his voice calm and even. I was quite proud of him. “Where the road goes through the boulders. So if you could supply some of your workers to help stand guard. Various animals have already had a go at the body.”
The big man looked shaken. “Well yes. Of course.
By all means. Good God. What a shock. I’d never have thought . . . in a million years . . . poor old Bwana. Not my favorite man but what a thing to happen.”
“I’ll run the boys straight up to Dr. Singh, then,” Freddie said, “and come back for Mr. and Mrs. O’Mara.”
“Right.” Tusker Eggerton nodded. “Go and see about it, Sammy,” he said to the tall house servant who had welcomed us. “How many do you want?”
“I think three or four should do it. I can’t fit more into the motorcar.”
“Three or four, Sammy. Make sure they are not squeamish about standing near a dead body. Better be Somalis, then, from the house. The Kukes have funny ideas about bodies and evil spirits.”
“That is because they do not worship Allah, bwana,” Sammy said gravely. “I will select some of my own. We do not fear death.”
He strode from the room with great dignity. Tusker Eggerton stood staring out the door. “Bwana Hartley. Who would have thought it,” he muttered, then he seemed to realize we were still there.
“Not a great introduction to Kenya, what?” he said. “We’re normally such a peaceful bunch too. Get along smoothly. Let’s hope the police can find the blighter who did it. Some rogue native, I expect. Kicked out of his job and determined to get revenge.” He paused, tying the cord more firmly around his ample waist. “But what are you doing out and about this early? You were at the party. Everyone usually sleeps until midday.”
“We left at first light,” Darcy said. “My wife was eager to go back to Diddy’s. She wasn’t comfortable. Not really her sort of thing, you know.”
“I suppose not, although her cousins in the royal family have certainly thrown themselves into our ways with enthusiasm in the past. Surprised to find the Prince of Wales wasn’t there. He would have leaped at the chance before.” He chuckled at his use of words.
“His lady friend keeps a tight rein on him,” Darcy said.
“She was the one who flew out with us? The skinny dark-haired woman who clearly thinks a lot of herself?”
“That’s the one.” Darcy stifled a grin.
“Poor chap. I wouldn’t want to be saddled with someone like that. But then he won’t be, in the end, will he? He’ll marry some dreary princess and do his duty.”
He turned to look at me. “One hopes so,” I said. “His parents certainly hope he’ll do the right thing when the time comes.”
“You know him well, do you?” Tusker asked.
“Yes, quite well. I’ve known him since I was a small child. He’s very kind and I’m fond of him. But Mrs. Simpson seems to have a strange hold over him.”
“God knows why. She certainly isn’t beautiful, or young.” He seemed to realize something. “I don’t suppose you’ve had breakfast, have you? You must be positively starving, and in a bit of shock too, I expect. Come on. Let’s chivvy my boys up and get something on the table.” He strode across the room and tugged on a bell rope. Almost instantly there was the sound of slippers flapping on the marble floor and a young houseboy appeared, looking agitated. “Off to the kitchen with you. Tell them we have guests so we want breakfast now and they’d better make an effort. Get cracking. Go.”
“Yes, bwana. I will tell them,” the boy replied and ran out of the room again.
Major Eggerton was still pacing like a caged animal. “What about a drink, then?” he said, going over to a tray of bottles on the sideboard. “I think we all need one, don’t you? Brandy? Good for the nerves, although personally I always think that a good stiff G and T can cure most ills.”
“Not for me, thank you,” I said. “Much too early in the day.”
“Nonsense,” Tusker Eggerton boomed. “Hair of the dog, don’t you know. Come on. Just a small one, then. A sip of brandy, for God’s sake.”
“Well, just a sip, then,” I conceded, not because I wanted the brandy but because I thought it would cause more of a hoo-ha if I said no. Tusker took the top off a crystal decanter and poured a good two inches of brandy into a glass, handed it to me then turned to Darcy. “What about you, old chap?”
“A G and T, then, Tusker,” Darcy said and got a nod of approval.
“Take a seat. Breakfast should be ready any moment. I’ve got the best damned set of kitchen boys in the valley. I pay them well. They know which side their bread is buttered. Although between you and me the new memsahib hasn’t a clue how to deal with them. Not brought up with servants, you know. She thinks I’m too hard on them. I tell the silly cow that’s all they know. They expect a master to work them hard, make them toe the line. Their own chiefs and medicine men certainly aren’t kind and gentle with them.” He chuckled. “Come on, drink up. There is more where that came from.”
I realized that this was a perfect opportunity to get information out of Tusker Eggerton, especially now that he was knocking back the snifters. I tried to think of ways to phrase things carefully. The chance came when he asked, “So what time does the doctor think this murder took place?”
“He hadn’t done a thorough examination when we came here,” Darcy said, “but we know Lord Cheriton left the party just after midnight.”
“Just after midnight? Are you sure? Whatever for?”
“He got a telephone call from his wife, one gathers,” I said, not wanting to be left out of this conversation. “She didn’t come because she was feeling ill and then she told him she was feeling worse and wanted him home.”
“So he obeyed like a good little boy? That doesn’t sound like Bwana.” Tusker gave a derisive snort.
“His children are visiting him from England,” I said. “Maybe he wanted to give a good impression to them.”
“Maybe. So you think he was attacked on his way home then?” He turned back to Darcy.
“It’s hard to say,” Darcy said. “The body felt quite stiff to me and it didn’t seem that the wounds were still bleeding. So he’d have been dead for a while. Of course, some animal had taken great chunks out of him and the vultures were doing their share.”
I glanced at Darcy and the matter-of-fact way he could discuss this.
“So what makes you think he was murdered, then?” Tusker demanded. “Isn’t it rather obvious that he was killed by an animal?”
“There were signs that a person had done the initial deed,” Darcy said cautiously. “I gather you and your wife drove home before Bwana. You didn’t see anything suspicious on the road, did you?”
“Suspicious? What do you mean by that? A person lurking in the bushes?” He gave a sneer. “When I’m driving in the dark all I’m looking out for is a large animal in my path. I don’t have time to check the shrubbery. Besides, it is absolutely pitch-dark. Anyone hiding two feet from the road wouldn’t be noticed.”
“Why did you leave so early?” I asked. “Was your wife also not feeling well?”
He looked at me, frowning, but my face was one of innocent sweetness—at least I hoped that was how I looked.
“My wife was having a minor temper tantrum, if you want to know,” he said. “I thought she’d embarrass herself and me if we stayed around so I whisked her home. She had had rather a lot to drink and she hasn’t learned to hold it well yet.”
“Why was she upset?” I knew I was pushing my luck.
“Upset? She was bloody furious. She thought, for some reason, that Bwana Hartley fancied her. I’m sure you’ve heard all about it. Gossip spreads like wildfire in this community. She didn’t realize that his roving eye keeps on roving and doesn’t settle in one spot for long. They had a little fling and he tired of her. I knew he would; that’s why I didn’t make a fuss about it. She’d be dumped and then she’d return to being the dutiful wife. And if she wasn’t the dutiful wife, I’d ship her back home to her mother in Birmingham.” He laughed loudly as if this was a great joke he’d obviously made many times before.
“What’s so funny?” said a woman’s voice and there w
as Babe Eggerton, standing in the doorway in a pink silk robe with feathers around the edges, looking pale and rather lovely. Without her normal gash of red lipstick and powdered cheeks she had a sweet face with good bone structure and looked absurdly young. “I heard laughter. It woke me up,” she said, going across to the drinks tray and pouring herself a large brandy. “I didn’t realize visitors ever came this early in the morning.”
Her accent was still a little rough around the edges.
“I’m sorry but this wasn’t a social call,” Darcy said. “Yours was the closest house to telephone the police.”
“The police?” She looked alarmed. “Burglary?”
“A murder,” Darcy said.
“It was your pal Bwana,” Tusker said and I sensed he enjoyed saying it. “They found him lying beside the road.”
Babe just stared at him with her mouth open. “You’re making it up to taunt me,” she said. “You’re being horrid. Of course it wasn’t Ross. We left him at the party, in Idina’s bed.”
“I’m afraid it was Lord Cheriton,” I said. “His wife telephoned him to come home soon after you had left.”
“And he went?” She sounded surprised. “He is not normally good at doing what women tell him.” Then it seemed to hit her. “Oh my God. It really was him? He’s really dead?”
“I’m afraid so,” Darcy said.
She put her hand up to her face and stood there for a moment like a statue, although her hands were shaking a little. “I can’t believe it. And I said some horrid things about him last night. I was angry and drunk too.” She looked up, glaring. “Well, you know who must have done it, don’t you?”
“No, who?” her husband asked.
“That Tomlinson fellow. Why else were they at the party? They’ve never come to one of our things before.”
“Why would Tomlinson want to kill Bwana?” Darcy asked.
