by Clara Benson
Cedric stared at her, aghast.
‘I can’t believe it,’ he said feebly at length.
‘It may be that I am wrong,’ said Mrs. Dragusha. ‘But whether I am or not, you may be assured that I shall say nothing of all this. My business depends on my discretion, and I have already made one mistake for which I will never forgive myself. But now the police are here it is right that you should know.’
She made to leave, but Cedric said:
‘Just a minute. You say your brother knows about pearls?’
She nodded.
‘Can he keep his mouth shut? Would he be prepared to come down here immediately and have a look at the Belsingham pearls?’
‘I do not know,’ she said doubtfully. ‘Philip is always very busy. But there is no harm in telegraphing him to ask. It may be that he will not be at home, for he has many important clients, but if he is, and if I can impress upon him the urgency of the matter, then perhaps we can bring him here. You may be certain that whatever the case, he will say nothing to anyone.’
‘Very well, then,’ said the Duke. ‘Please telegraph him and tell him to come at once if he is able.’
‘Of course,’ she said. ‘I will do everything in my power to persuade him, and if we are very fortunate he will tell you that his sister is a very stupid woman and that the pearls are real.’
‘Don’t say a word to anyone,’ said Cedric to Freddy, as Mrs. Dragusha went off to send the telegram. ‘Not even Ro. It may be that this is all a mare’s nest, and we don’t want to stir things up unnecessarily.’
‘I won’t say a thing,’ promised Freddy.
Cedric sighed in exasperation.
‘I think I shall take a turn in the garden,’ he said. ‘If anybody wants me I shall be drowning myself in the fountain.’
‘Do it in the bath instead,’ said Freddy. ‘The water will be warmer.’
Cedric made a huffing sound that might have denoted sardonic amusement, and went off.
There was still an hour to go until luncheon, and the weather was fine, so Freddy decided to follow Cedric’s example and go outside again. He went into the morning-room, intending to go out through the French windows, and found Bea standing by them, looking out into the garden. Freddy followed her gaze and saw the Duke hastening after Mrs. Fitzsimmons. Kitty turned and smiled as Cedric joined her, and they proceeded along the gravel walk together. Bea glanced round and saw Freddy.
‘She’s very pretty,’ she said with a sigh.
‘No substance, though.’
‘That’s never stopped anyone before,’ said Bea with some bitterness.
‘I’m sorry, old girl,’ he said sympathetically.
‘Men are such beasts at times,’ she said.
‘I know we are. I’m afraid we can’t help it. But he’ll get over it, you’ll see. Go and flirt with Dr. Bachmann. He’s out there in the garden with Mr. Wray, and he’s been casting longing glances at you ever since he got here.’
‘Will that work, do you think?’
‘Probably not, if Cedric’s got it badly. But I don’t see why he ought to have all the fun.’
She gave a wan smile.
‘You’re very kind, but there are so many things to do. The police have been here all morning and I suppose we ought to offer them some sandwiches, at least.’
‘Have they taken Coddington away yet?’
‘Yes. They’re just making sure they’ve collected all the evidence they need, then they say we can have the library back.’
‘That’s good news.’
‘Yes, it is, although they’ve started making noises about not letting anybody leave, which will be awkward.’
‘I dare say it’ll just be until they’ve questioned everyone,’ said Freddy. ‘They’ll want to take names and addresses, just so they don’t accidentally let the murderer escape.’
She shuddered.
‘Don’t! It’s almost too much to believe that somebody did it deliberately. I’m half-hoping the police surgeon will say the professor somehow did it himself, or that it was an accident. A death in the house is bad enough, but anything’s better than deliberate murder.’
‘I suppose it is,’ said Freddy. He wanted to say something reassuring, but could think of nothing, and after a moment Bea said she must go and see to the sandwiches, and left.
Outside, Iris and Ralph were walking on the lawn with Goose and Daphne. Freddy decided to join them, but they were some distance away, and by the time he arrived at the place where he had seen them last they had vanished. He wandered about for a few minutes until he found himself by the kitchen-yard, which was bustling with servants running to and fro. He did not wish to be in the way, and so retreated a short distance to where a grassy area sloped down gently to a lake surrounded by trees. The view from here was very fine, and he sat down on a bench and lit a cigarette, with the intention of idling away a few minutes pleasantly.
‘Got another of those?’ said a voice, and Valentina Sangiacomo plumped herself down on the bench next to him without invitation or ceremony. He obliged, and she settled back to smoke and enjoy the view, with every appearance of having all the time in the world.
‘Oughtn’t you to be darning a stocking or folding some unmentionables?’ he said.
‘Not I,’ she replied. ‘I’m all done for now. She’ll be wanting me soon, though. So what’s all this, then? You lot been chasing each other around in the dark? Evening-parties wearing a bit thin these days? I must say, I can think of better ways to entertain myself than by whacking some aggravating old codger over the head with a five iron.’
‘Professor Coddington was a very well respected academic,’ said Freddy severely. ‘And it was a sash weight, not a five iron.’
She flashed him a grin.
‘Go on with you,’ she said. ‘Well respected, indeed! Do you think we know nothing? We see what goes on—probably more than you do. He got on all your nerves, didn’t he?’
‘He was something of a wart,’ admitted Freddy.
‘I’ll say! He put all the servants’ backs up, too, ordering them around like he was so high and mighty.’
‘Well, that is what you’re there for,’ said Freddy reasonably.
‘P’raps. But there are ways of talking to people that won’t earn you a gob of spit in your soup.’
‘Good God!’ exclaimed Freddy in disgust. ‘I shall never have soup again.’
‘Oh, you’re all right,’ she said cheerfully. ‘Nobody has a bad word to say about you that I can tell.’
‘I’m glad to hear it,’ said Freddy. ‘So you’ve all been talking about this affair, then, have you?’
‘’Course we have.’
‘And what conclusions have you reached? Have you identified the culprit to your satisfaction?’
‘Not exactly. It’s all just rumour at the moment, and you know how things get twisted. But I did hear you and his lordship were the ones to trip over the corpse.’
‘Yes, we were.’
‘Go on, then, tell me what happened. The Duchess’s maid is looking down her nose at us all because she thinks she knows the whole story, but I’m sure she must have got things wrong. Tell me something she doesn’t know so I can go back in and get one up on her.’
‘I applaud your brutal honesty where others would claim purely altruistic motives for their curiosity,’ said Freddy.
She made a face at him, and he told her as much as he thought the police would allow.
‘You think he half-inched the pearls just because he wanted to have a look at them?’ she said in some disbelief.
‘I realize it’s a difficult idea for you to grasp, but yes,’ said Freddy. ‘That does seem to be what happened. He was very interested in their history, you see, and it’s only natural that he should want to examine them more closely in that case.’
H
e said nothing about the suspicion that the pearls were fake.
‘Nosy old devil, was he?’
‘That’s about the size of it,’ agreed Freddy.
‘I gathered as much. So half the house was wandering around in the West Wing corridor when he was killed. What about the other half?’
‘As a matter of fact, there are only two people left once those have been eliminated—the Duchess and my mother.’
‘That’s a good thing—not that her Grace and your mother are under suspicion for murder,’ she added hurriedly. ‘I meant the fact that most people can prove they didn’t do it.’
‘True, but that leaves us without any idea of who killed him. What about the servants? Anything doing there?’
‘You think one of them did it?’ said Valentina.
‘I don’t know. Do you?’
‘I doubt it,’ she said. ‘They’d have had the sense to take the pearls off him, wouldn’t they?’
‘One would think so, yes.’
‘The police have got there before you, anyway. They’ve been in the servants’ hall all morning, asking questions. They wanted to know whether anyone was up at that time.’
‘And were they?’
‘Hardly. Most of ’em are worn out by bedtime. You’d long for your bed too if you had an early start and an eighteen-hour day to look forward to.’
‘I dare say,’ said Freddy. He stroked his chin, thinking.
‘No, I can’t see any reason for it,’ muttered Valentina, as though to herself.
‘Any reason for what?’
She glanced at him.
‘Killing him. Without touching the pearls, I mean,’ she added.
‘I wonder why they did it, then.’
‘I expect he irritated someone past all bearing,’ she said. ‘Want me to find out who it was?’
‘Do you think you could?’
She shrugged.
‘No harm in trying, is there? I can speak to the other servants. And I’m good at finding things.’
‘That could be useful,’ said Freddy. ‘I’d like to know what happened to the missing sash weight. It’s a pity we can’t go and search all the bedrooms.’
‘Won’t the police do that?’
‘They ought to, but I fear they may be slightly blinded by the fact that we’re all the guests of a duke. Cedric’s as unaffected as they come, but there’s no denying the weight of a title, and if they happen to catch him in a bad mood when they propose searching the rooms and he makes an objection, then it might put them off.’
‘You think they won’t want to arrest one of the nobs?’ said Valentina.
‘I think they’d be relieved if it turned out to be a servant, certainly,’ he replied.
‘Or one of the foreigners. I don’t think much of that dressmaker’s chances, then. Or Dr. Bachmann’s.’
She looked at him as though to see what he thought of that.
‘Mrs. Dragusha was out of bed at the same time as the rest of us, so I doubt she’s in any danger,’ said Freddy. ‘But Dr. Bachmann, now—that’s a different matter.’
‘Oh? What’s he done?’
‘I don’t know, but he was milling around in the West Wing corridor with the rest of them after Ro screamed.’
‘So?’
His bedroom is in the East Wing, and he couldn’t possibly have heard the scream from there. So the question is: what was he doing out of bed at that time?’
‘I’d have thought that was obvious enough,’ she said. ‘Why do any of you lot go creeping around in the middle of the night? I’ve heard you’re not above that sort of thing yourself. You caused all sorts of an uproar last time you were here, they tell me.’
‘It was all an unfortunate misunderstanding,’ said Freddy delicately.
‘Not from what I’ve heard. You and Lady Someone-Or-Other were where you oughtn’t to have been when you oughtn’t to have been, and I don’t suppose it was accidental. Mrs. Bates still gives you a wide berth to this day after the shock you gave her.’
‘Hmph,’ said Freddy. ‘Then perhaps that will teach her to mind her own business in future.’
‘Anyway, Dr. Bachmann is one thing, but I notice you didn’t mention the Duke was up too last night.’
Freddy was surprised for a moment, but then remembered whom she worked for.
‘Yes, his Grace was up, as you so impertinently point out, and I’ll thank you to forget it,’ he said. ‘You seem to know all about that, and I won’t inquire further. But Dr. Bachmann has no good reason that I know of to have been out of bed at that time.’
‘Do you think he did it, then?’
‘It doesn’t make a lot of sense, but it’s just remotely possible that he ran downstairs after everybody had gone back into their rooms, found the professor coming out of the secret passage in the library and killed him. Why, I don’t know.’
‘If he did it then perhaps there’s some evidence of it in his room,’ said Valentina.
‘Perhaps, although the only thing I can think of is the sash weight—and why would he be stupid enough to take it back to his room with him?’
‘There you have me. But if you want, I can have a look for you.’
‘You? But won’t you get into terrible trouble if you’re caught?’
‘Oh, I won’t do it myself,’ said Valentina. ‘I’ll get a friend of mine to do it.’
‘A friend?’
‘He’s a footman here, but he’s valeting Dr. Bachmann this weekend because he doesn’t have his own man.’
‘But will he be discreet?’
‘He’ll do anything I tell him,’ she said complacently.
‘I see,’ said Freddy, amused. ‘It’s like that, is it?’
‘There’s no need to look so superior,’ she said. ‘Servants have lives too, you know.’
‘I still can’t quite see you as a servant,’ said Freddy. ‘You’re not the type.’
‘No,’ she conceded. ‘I’m not. I like to do what I like. But sometimes there’s no harm in earning an honest living—for a little while, at any rate.’
‘Then while you’re doing that will you talk to the other servants and find out if they know anything?’
‘If you like. It’ll be mainly gossip, though.’
‘You never know. There might be something useful in among the chaff.’
‘Well, we’ll see.’ She put out her cigarette and stood up. ‘I’d better go or I’ll miss lunch. I’ll see you later.’
Freddy watched her go, and suddenly realized she had not asked him for any money, which was unlike her. Presumably she was too swept up with the excitement of the night’s events and had forgotten. Still, perhaps she would find out something useful, for everything was still a mystery so far.
As it turned out, Mrs. Dragusha’s brother was only too happy to drop everything and come down to Dorset to see his Grace. He took the first express from Waterloo and was with them by tea-time. The police had gone away, but were expected to return that evening or the next day, and Cedric took advantage of their absence to usher the jewel-dealer into his study for a conference which he hoped would remain private. Thinking that a witness might be useful, he invited Freddy to join them, since he already knew the story and there was no sense in spreading it further if it turned out to be a false alarm.
Mr. Laurentius was a solemn little man who looked as though he were constructed mainly from starch, such was his air of respectability. He refused all offers of refreshment and sat almost comically upright, in the most uncomfortable chair in the room (his own selection), listening to the Duke’s story. Since Cedric was still confused and upset by what Mrs. Dragusha had told him, he did not tell a good tale, and Freddy was forced to take the reins. Mr. Laurentius listened carefully, his head on one side, then pursed his lips.
‘You have done well to c
all me,’ he said. ‘Bettina told me she suspects the pearls are fake. It is true that she is not an expert, but I have taught her many things over the years, and it is possible that she may be right—although let us hope she is not. But if she is, it will not be the first time such a thing has happened. I have encountered many similar instances over the years. You would be surprised, your Grace, at how many noble families have been forced to sell their valuables in order to make ends meet and—how do you call it—keep up appearances.’
‘That is not the case here, however,’ said the Duke stiffly. ‘We’re not quite at the soup-kitchen yet, and there is no reason for anybody to have sold the pearls.’
‘No indeed,’ said Mr. Laurentius hurriedly. ‘I meant to suggest no such thing. I was talking of other families, naturally. If the Belsingham pearls do unfortunately prove to be false, then there may be any number of explanations for it that do not reflect badly upon anybody in your household.’
‘Yes, well, there’s no use in talking about it until you’ve given us your opinion,’ said Cedric, slightly mollified.
‘Then the pearls, please,’ said Mr. Laurentius. He sat up even straighter, if that were possible, and watched expectantly as Cedric brought out the enamelled box to which the pearls had been returned that morning. ‘Hm,’ he said, as the necklace was lifted out of the box and handed to him. He took it and began to examine it with great interest. ‘Hm,’ he said again, non-committally, then gave a little click of the tongue. ‘I see the clasp has been mended. Is it recent work?’
‘Last November,’ said Cedric.
‘It might have been done better,’ said Mr. Laurentius, ‘but no matter.’
He peered at the pearls, held them up to the light, then brought out an eye-glass and applied it to his eye. Freddy and Cedric watched him intently, but his face gave nothing away. At last, he handed back the pearls with great ceremony and said:
‘That is very interesting.’
‘Are they real?’ said Freddy, who could bear it no longer.
