Murder at the Masquerade Ball

by Margaret Addison

  ‘Yes, but he was the only one staying here at Kingsley House. It would have been frightfully easy for him to have slipped out and done the deed. Really, Rose, I can’t for the life of me understand why you and Ceddie let him stay. Thank goodness he is keeping to his room.’

  ‘Mr Franklin had nowhere else to go,’ said Rose, ‘certainly not in London.’

  ‘Well, I don’t think I shall tell Iris he is staying with us. She’ll be awfully put out.’ Lavinia sighed. ‘It’s a pity, because I really meant to call on Priscilla this morning. She left her scarf behind when she visited yesterday and I’m sure she’d be absolutely intrigued to hear this latest piece of news.’

  ‘I’ll return the scarf to Miss Belling, if you like,’ Rose said.

  If she spoke with undue eagerness, her friend did not appear to notice; certainly she did not comment upon the fact.

  ‘I’ll do it now, if you like.’

  ‘What, in your condition?’ Lavinia asked raising an eyebrow and looking rather pointedly at her friend’s swollen stomach. ‘Hadn’t you better stay at home.’

  ‘The baby is not due for another two weeks and to be perfectly frank I could do with an excuse to leave this house for an hour. I feel as if I have been cooped up here for simply ages.’

  ‘Very well,’ said Lavinia, boring of the subject and tucking into another slice of toast. ‘Eliza has the scarf. I’ll ask her to give it to you.’

  It was with some trepidation that Rose set out on her self-assigned task. From her position in the back seat, she watched the Belvederes’ chauffeur steer the Bentley expertly along the roads and streets amid the London traffic. All the while she clutched Priscilla’s scarf tightly in her hand. It occurred to her to wonder if Daniel Belling would be at the house and, if so, how she should set about conducting her interview.

  Once she had arrived at her destination, the door of the house was opened to her by the daily maid, a woman who developed something of an unctuous manner on learning the identity of her visitor. Indeed, almost before she could gather breath, Rose found herself ushered hastily and with an ingratiating smile, over the threshold, across the hall and into Priscilla’s high-ceilinged sitting room.

  Immediately the door had closed behind her, Rose was struck by a tension in the room which was almost tangible. Indeed, she had the distinct, and rather unsettling, impression that she had interrupted a quarrel of sorts, and that her arrival on the scene was hardly appreciated. Certainly the expressions on the faces of the room’s two occupants suggested this to be the case. Taken rather unawares, Daniel Belling was positively scowling and his sister, who was standing beside the hearth, with her head half turned towards the door, looked pale and wan, despite her olive complexion.

  It was with considerable effort that the brother and sister rallied. Rose witnessed the internal struggle of each as they composed their features to suggest that her unexpected visit was nothing less than delightful. Behind their rather forced smiles, however, their eyes looked at her warily.

  ‘Lady Belvedere, this is a pleasure,’ said Priscilla coming forward. ‘You’ve met my brother, Mr Belling, of course?’

  ‘How do you do, Lady Belvedere?’ Daniel said politely.

  ‘I’m here to return your scarf, Miss Belling,’ Rose answered, holding the article out in front of her.

  ‘I say,’ said Daniel, ‘that’s jolly decent of you to come in person. Most people would have sent a servant.’

  ‘Please do sit down,’ said Priscilla. ‘Won’t you join us? We were just about to take our elevenses?’

  ‘Please don’t go to any trouble on my account,’ said Rose. ‘In fact I should like to speak with you first. You see, I had another reason for wishing to call upon you. The scarf, I’m afraid, was merely an excuse.’

  Conscious that she had their full attention now, Rose opted for a straight-backed chair and sat down. Daniel Belling resumed his seat and Priscilla went to sit beside him on the sofa.

  ‘Lady Lavinia may have told you that I have something of a reputation for being an amateur sleuth?’

  ‘She did mention something of the sort,’ said Priscilla cautiously,

  ‘I do hope your activities don’t include the recovery of debt,’ said Daniel genially. ‘I’ve had rather a bad time of it at the gambling tables of late.’

  ‘Oh, do be quiet, Daniel,’ Priscilla said, a trifle irritably. ‘You must forgive my brother, Lady Belvedere. I’m afraid he has rather an odd sense of humour.’

  ‘Not at all,’ said Rose smiling. ‘In my experience people quite often say the strangest things when they are nervous or have something to hide.’ She saw the colour disappear from Daniel’s face. ‘And as it happens, Mr Belling, you are quite right in supposing that I am here in something of a professional capacity.’ She paused a moment before continuing, allowing her words to sink in. ‘I have in fact come here to recover some documents. Some stolen papers, to be exact.’

  ‘What stolen papers?’ demanded Daniel.

  ‘Documents of a highly confidential nature that were stolen from Kingsley House during the evening of the masquerade ball.’

  ‘I’m very sorry to hear that. But, really, that has nothing to do with us,’ said Daniel tersely, his fingers fiddling with the buttons on his jacket.

  Rose remained silent and waited. She felt tolerably certain that Daniel Belling was not the type of man given to quiet reflection. As if to confirm her words, he spoke abruptly, much of the pleasantness gone from his voice.

  ‘Really I haven’t the faintest idea what you are talking about. If this is some sort of a joke, I think it a pretty rotten one.’ He glared at Rose. ‘Tell me, your ladyship, are you accusing me of being a thief?’

  ‘Certainly not, Mr Belling. My statement was actually directed to Miss Belling.’ She looked up and caught Priscilla’s eye. Unless she was greatly mistaken, the girl was trembling. ‘I should like you to tell me, Miss Belling, what you have done with the papers. If, as I hope, they are still in your possession, I ask that you return them to me at once.’

  For a moment Daniel stared at Rose completely dumbfounded. Next he turned to face his sister, no doubt expecting her to be as equally bewildered and put out by such an outrageous accusation. In this, however, he was to be disappointed. During the course of Rose’s conversation, Priscilla had hardly moved a muscle, her face fixed in an artificial smile. Only now, as the strain of the situation became too much, were cracks beginning to appear in her carefully constructed façade. A film of moisture was visible on her brow and she passed a tongue over dry lips. This was not, however, what held the others’ attention. Rather, it was the rigid way in which she held herself as if she feared that, if she did not do so, she would collapse.

  ‘What makes you believe me to be the thief?’ she said, her voice coming out in the way of a little gasp.

  ‘The culprit is thought to have been a man wearing a gold cravat and scarlet waistcoat,’ Rose said quietly. ‘I am, myself, firmly of the view that the thief was in fact a woman impersonating a man.’

  ‘What utter nonsense!’ exclaimed Daniel. ‘Really, your ladyship, surely you don’t actually believe what you are suggesting? Priscilla, tell her it’s not true,’ he cried, appealing to his sister.

  Priscilla, however, did not answer, but remained strangely silent, her eyes never for one moment leaving Rose’s face. If Daniel was surprised that his sibling made no attempt to refute the allegations levelled against her, he tried hard not to show it. Instead, he seemed impelled, by his own righteous indignation at the suggestion, to refute the accusation.

  ‘My sister was dressed in a regency gown, Lady Belvedere,’ he said coldly. ‘You must remember seeing her dressed in it yourself?’ Rose nodded. ‘It was an awfully elaborate affair which rather put my own outfit to shame,’ continued Daniel. ‘It is quite preposterous to suppose that Priscilla was dressed in any other disguise. Why, I don’t believe there was a single moment when she was out of my sight. And you needn’t take merely my word
for it. For I’m quite certain your other guests will remember having seen her dressed in her costume because, as I’ve said, it was awfully distinctive.’

  ‘I am quite certain they will,’ replied Rose, rather unexpectedly, ‘but not for the reason you suppose, Mr Belling.’

  She saw a look of bewilderment pass across the young man’s face and took pity on him. Before he could protest any further, or ask her what she meant, she put up her hand as if she were signalling a truce of sorts.

  ‘I suggest you let me set out my reasons for supposing your sister to be the thief.’ She paused to glance briefly at Priscilla. The girl had lowered her gaze and gave no outward sign that she was following their conversation, yet Rose felt quite certain that she was listening avidly to every word. ‘Miss Belling,’ she said slowly, ‘will no doubt correct me if I am wrong.’

  ‘Very well,’ said Daniel, curiosity getting the better of him. ‘I will admit I’m rather intrigued to hear your theory, though it is quite ludicrous to suggest my sister is your thief. Still, I’d like to hear your reasoning for such a hypothesis, wouldn’t you, Priscilla?’

  His sister again did not answer. Pale beneath her tanned complexion, she held herself so still that she might have been a statue.

  ‘From the very beginning,’ Rose said, ‘I thought it rather odd that the thief had chosen to wear such a distinctive costume. It was almost as if he wished everyone’s eye to be drawn to him, which made no sense at all unless he wished it to be remembered that the outfit had been worn by a man. The outfit was so utterly different from Miss Belling’s own regency gown that it was unlikely a connection would be made between the thief and herself. But there I’m afraid your sister made a mistake.’ Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Priscilla give a little start. ‘For it was the very costume itself which was suggestive to me that the thief might actually be a woman impersonating a man,’ continued Rose. ‘In fact, the idea that we might be looking for a woman rather than a man occurred to me very early on in my investigation.’

  ‘Oh?’ said Daniel, intrigued in spite of himself.

  ‘The thief’s mask, for one, was very indicative,’ said Rose, getting into her stride. ‘A man could quite easily have disguised his features without having to wear a mask that covered his entire face. A Baulta mask, for example, has a protruding jawline which projects well over the wearer’s mouth. But a woman pretending to be a man would be obliged to conceal her whole face if she had any hope of carrying off the deception. The same can also be said for her hands and feet, which is why the thief chose to wear leather gloves and a pair of long boots. A man could quite easily have disguised himself by wearing another pair of shoes and a thin pair of evening gloves. Of course, the boots also had the added advantage of possessing a substantial heel, which provided the wearer with additional height, adding to the deception.’

  ‘Is that all you are basing your theory upon?’ enquired Daniel looking rather sceptical.

  ‘There is also the thief’s voluminous, long black cloak to consider,’ said Rose. ‘It almost reached the floor and rather engulfed its wearer, thereby disguising the fact that the thief’s figure was that of a woman and not of a man. But,’ she said, pausing a moment before continuing, ‘it was something else that convinced me I was on the right track in supposing the thief to have been a woman.’

  ‘What was that?’

  ‘When the thief happened to encounter Lady Lavinia on the terrace, he refused to speak to her. It would have been jolly difficult for a woman to carry on a conversation in anything that resembled a man’s voice. In this particular instance, of course, the thief would have been particularly cautious.’

  ‘Because Lady Lavinia would undoubtedly have recognised my sister’s voice, do you mean?’

  ‘Yes, even if Miss Belling had taken great pains to disguise it.’

  ‘I see,’ said Daniel. ‘Well, if you don’t mind my saying, your ladyship, it all sounds rather hypothetical. And even if one supposes your theory to be correct, that the thief was a woman, I mean, your basis for supposing her to be my sister is very weak.’

  ‘My theory in that regard is not based merely on the fact that the thief refused to speak to my sister-in-law,’ Rose said quietly. ‘There are a number of other facts on which I’ve based my assumptions.’

  ‘What facts?’ demanded Daniel, a trifle rudely. He looked sideways at his sister, who still seemed to be cocooned with her own private thoughts. Only the manner in which her fingers worried the fabric of her dress suggested that she was listening to their conversation.

  ‘They are connected with a joke concocted between Lavinia and your sister.’

  ‘Lavinia told you about our joke?’ said Priscilla looking up, a startled expression on her face. The hand that held the fabric of her outfit visibly shook. ‘She made me promise not to breathe a word about it to anyone. I thought … I thought that meant she wouldn’t …’ She faltered, as if the effort required to complete her sentence was too great.

  ‘Lavinia did not breathe a word about your trick,’ said Rose, ‘but odd words of her telephone conversation were overheard and conveyed to me. As soon as I heard mention of a joke, the last pieces of the puzzle fell into place with regard to the identity of the thief. You are looking a little perplexed, Mr Belling, which I suppose is hardly surprising.’

  ‘What was this joke to which you both keep referring?’ Daniel asked tetchily.

  ‘Really, it was very simple,’ said Rose. ‘Lavinia and your sister conspired between them to wear costumes which were identical in all particulars in order that each might quite easily pass for the other.’

  ‘We wished to confuse the chaperones, that’s all,’ said Priscilla, sounding a little breathless. ‘You married women have no idea how prying and watchful they can be. Why, I think they take a delight in ruining a girl’s fun and character with their spiteful gossip. We thought we’d play a trick on them, that’s all.’

  ‘Not quite all,’ replied Rose firmly. ‘For it provided you with an ideal opportunity to adopt another costume without your presence being missed. Unfortunately for you, you made one mistake.’

  ‘Oh?’ said Priscilla, phrasing the word as a question before she could stop herself.

  ‘I don’t doubt you spent all evening attempting to ascertain the location of the papers. At some point it must have occurred to you the meeting, during which the papers were to be exchanged, was likely to take place in The Retreat. After all, you of only a very few people knew of the hidden room’s existence. You went behind the folding screen and were greeted by a very disgruntled Hallam who, mistaking you for Lavinia, thought you had come to annoy him for a second time. I, myself, saw you emerge from behind the screen and was struck by your agitated manner. I should perhaps make clear that I did not see you as such, but rather your reflection in the mirror. I did not realise the significance of that point until later. You see, Lavinia had put her black satin beauty patch on her right cheek. When I saw you in the mirror, your beauty patch was on the same cheek. It was only later that it dawned on me that it should have been on the other cheek because I had been looking at a reflection. You had put your beauty patch on your left cheek instead of your right.’

  ‘Well, what of it?’ said Priscilla. ‘It does not prove I stole your precious papers.’

  ‘No, but it proves you knew where the papers were, particularly as the door to The Retreat opened while you were behind the screen. As an aside, Mr Belling, you also played a salient role in confirming my suspicion, that your sister and Lady Lavinia were wearing matching outfits, was correct.’

  ‘I?’ Daniel said, looking surprised.

  ‘You will perhaps not recall the incident,’ said Rose. ‘Lady Lavinia and I happened to pass you on the stairs. As we drew level with you, I heard you mutter: ‘Very fair pickings indeed.’ I looked about me to see to whom you were addressing your comment and was somewhat confused to discover that no one was paying you the least bit of attention. It is only now that I realise you
r words were directed to Lavinia, whom you mistook to be your sister.’

  A brief silence followed. Before it could be broken by any further denials or protestations, and aware that her evidence was far from conclusive with regard to Priscilla’s guilt, Rose said hurriedly:

  ‘It is only a matter of time before the police and Commander Wrenfield arrive at the same conclusion. I therefore ask you again, Miss Belling, to tell me what you have done with the papers. I hope sincerely that they are still in your possession?’

  ‘Yes,’ murmured Priscilla.

  The girl uttered the single word so quietly that Rose was not certain she had heard her speak. Only her posture suggested that she had done so for, all of a sudden, she seemed to wilt like a dead flower, the tremendous effort that had kept her poised and upright now utterly deflated.

  ‘Priscilla!’

  Daniel stared at her, shock and disbelief evident in his voice. He did not exactly recoil from her, but he certainly fidgeted in his seat.

  ‘Has anyone else seen the papers besides yourself?’ Rose said. She spoke quickly, the growing urgency very apparent in her voice.

  ‘No. I didn’t even look at them myself. Well, only a couple of the sheets. I was curious, that’s all, But, when I realised they detailed some sort of an invention, I … I stopped, because it occurred to me suddenly that what I had taken might be frightfully important.’ Now that she had spoken, the words came tumbling out of the girl’s mouth with undue haste so that they toppled into each other clumsily, with scarce a pause for breath. ‘I was dreadfully afraid,’ she said. ‘There had been a death and I wondered whether somehow the two things were connected. The house was suddenly full of policemen. I didn’t know what to do. I was terribly frightened.’

  ‘Has anyone made a copy of the papers?’ Rose asked, herself a little breathless. ‘I ought to tell you that much depends on your answer.’

  ‘No, of course not. They … they wanted the original papers, not copies. But, as I’ve told you, I was afraid. I hid the papers at the bottom of my wardrobe. I even thought about burning them.’