by Sara Rosett
Gwen looked over Jasper’s shoulder. “There’s Peter.” She shoved the paper and pencil in her pocket and went to meet him, but she paused after only a few steps. “Peter, what happened?”
Peter was walking with his hands held out from his sides in an awkward manner. His tweed jacket was torn at the shoulder seam, and a thin line of blood trailed down his cheek from a scrape on his forehead over his bruised eye.
Gwen hurried over and handed him her handkerchief. “Did you fall?”
Peter took the scrap of fabric gingerly. The palms of his hands were scraped and scratched. “I was pushed.”
Chapter Eighteen
Peter dabbed at the gash over his eyebrow with Gwen’s handkerchief.
She looked from Peter to the tea things still spread on the blanket. “We don’t have any water to clean these cuts. We brought the tea in thermoses.”
“It’s only a few scratches,” Peter said.
“But the one on your forehead is bleeding quite a lot.”
“That always happens with head wounds,” Peter said. “I promise you, it’s nothing.”
With a glance at Aunt Caroline, who was still sketching with her back to us and hadn’t noticed the commotion going on behind her, Gwen lowered her voice. “Are you sure someone pushed you?”
While they were speaking, I swiveled around, scanning the open area. Miss Miller was no longer sleeping in the sun. She must have woken and gone for a walk, and no one else had returned from their rambles except Deena.
Peter refolded the handkerchief to a clean spot and pressed it to the cut. “Absolutely sure. I may have had a little trouble with my memory the other day, but when someone gives you a solid knock on your back, there’s no question about what happened, especially when it sends you tumbling over the edge of the path.”
Gwen put a hand to her chest. “Into the ravine?”
“Yes. But there were a few sturdy bushes in the undergrowth near the trail. I was able to grab one and pull myself back onto the path.
“Oh, Peter,” Gwen said. “How ghastly. Oh, and your other hand is worse,” she said and caught his free hand, turning it up so she could examine the scrapes on his palm.
“Did you see who it was?” Jasper asked as he offered Peter a clean handkerchief.
Peter pulled his hand away from Gwen, clearly impatient with her fussing. “No. I was too occupied with not plunging several hundred feet.”
“Understandable. Did you hear anything?” Jasper asked. “Perhaps in the moment or two before you were pushed?”
“I thought I heard someone on the path behind me. I assumed it was someone from your picnic party who’d come down to say hello and walk with me the rest of the way as I came up here. I was turning to see who it was, but I wasn’t quick enough.”
Gigi ambled up the path and called out a greeting. She was alone.
“Where’s Captain Inglebrook? Did you outpace him?” I asked as she joined us.
“He wanted to see some sort of rock formation, but it was simply too far away. I told him to go on. I’m sure he’ll be along in a moment.”
“How long ago was it that you and Captain Inglebrook separated?”
Gigi’s forehead crinkled into a frown. “I have no idea. I took my time coming back.” Peter turned his head, and she saw the gash on his head. “Goodness,” she said. “What happened to you?”
Peter said, “A slip of the foot.”
“On the trail coming up from the ravine? You’re a lucky man.”
“So it would appear,” Peter said. Gigi didn’t seem to notice the irony in his tone.
About a quarter of an hour later, Jasper and I were in the Morris on our way back to Parkview. Gwen had insisted that she and Peter go down Cormont Hill immediately and have Ross take them back to Parkview so Peter’s scratches could be cleaned properly. Aunt Caroline, after tutting over Peter’s cuts and scrapes, had stayed behind. Once Ross dropped Gwen and Peter at Parkview, he’d return to pick up Aunt Caroline, Sonia, and Miss Miller. Peter wanted to keep the incident quiet. He didn’t want to worry Aunt Caroline or Uncle Leo—or increase their already worried state. He convinced Deena not to share the news that he’d been pushed, but I hoped that after Gwen patched him up, she could convince Peter to find Inspector Longly and report what had happened.
A horn blast sounded behind us as the red Alfa Romeo swept by. Deena waved from the driver’s seat as she bumped along on the grassy verge of the road. Captain Inglebrook and Gigi were squished together in the front seat beside her. Deena whipped the motor back into the lane and accelerated away. Seconds later, the little red motor swept off the road again to avoid a pothole, then jerked back into the lane.
Jasper said, “I’m glad I accepted your offer of a lift. I don’t think my nerves could stand an afternoon drive with Deena.”
“She may not be the best driver, but she certainly has the best motor. And that’s what’s important to Deena.” I navigated around the pothole at a more sedate speed, then eased off the gas. I didn’t want to arrive at Parkview too quickly. We had things to discuss. “It seems anyone could have pushed Peter, except for you, me, and Gwen.”
“I agree. We were the only ones who didn’t leave the ruin,” Jasper said. “The question is, why would someone do that?”
I gripped the steering wheel tighter. “If something were to happen to Peter before he remembered what happened in the conservatory . . .”
“Yes, it could mean the murderer might never be discovered.” Jasper settled his hat more firmly on his head as the breeze kicked up. “I believe I’ll have to stick with Peter from now on.”
“That sounds like an excellent idea.”
We spent the rest of the drive talking through everyone’s movements on Cormont Hill, but we didn’t work out any new solution to who might have pushed Peter. As soon as we arrived back at Parkview and the picnic baskets were unloaded from the Morris, I handed off my hat, gloves, and coat and went directly to the library. Jasper followed me. “I thought you were going to stay with Peter,” I said.
“I’m sure Gwen won’t let him out of her sight for a while. I assume you’re going to peruse the photo albums?”
“Of course. If they interested Mr. Payne, we should look at them.”
“I agree.” Jasper paused at the library door to allow me to precede him into the room.
Father, who was seated at the long table surrounded by stacks of books, lifted his pen and glanced up. “Hello, Olive. Jasper. How was the picnic? Is Sonia back as well?”
“She should be here shortly. Don’t mind us. We’re just after one thing.”
Father went back to his writing as we went to the bookcases. “Aunt Caroline said the albums were on the lower shelf by the staircase. Here they are.” Several albums tilted against each other, and I pulled them all out.
I stacked them in Jasper’s arms, and he carried them to a small table on the far side of the library from Father so we wouldn’t disturb him. We each picked an album. A quick glance was enough to show whether or not the pictures had been taken during the war. The photos in the album I’d opened were too early to contain anything from the time during the war, but I couldn’t help looking at a few of the snapshots. Gwen had received the Brownie camera as a Christmas present, and she’d been keen on photography for several years.
“Look, here’s one of you and Peter when you were both about ten. You look like you were up to quite a bit of mischief.” The picture showed Jasper with his rumpled fair hair glowing in the sun and dark-haired Peter standing in the garden. “And here’s one of all of us playing doubles.”
“I seem to remember you girls beat us soundly that afternoon.”
I closed the album reluctantly. “Let’s not get distracted. We can come back and browse through these later. If we don’t stay focused, we could be here all afternoon.”
“Yes, you’re right.”
I picked up the next album. I could tell from the shirtwaists and long narrow skirts Aunt Caroline wore in
the photos that we were close to the right time period. “Look, there’s one of Deena helping to sort bedding as we prepared Parkview.” There were a few photos of Gwen and me rolling bandages, but then the photos reverted to a few years prior, when Gwen and I were several years younger. “These are out of order,” I said as I flipped quickly through several pages. “Here we are. This is the mahogany room being readied for patients. And this one of the portrait gallery is exactly as Payne described it.” Tables ranged around the room with games, books, magazines, and crossword puzzles.
I turned to the next page, expecting to see images of patients, doctors, and nurses, but it was blank with empty spaces where pictures had been. The next one was blank too. And the next. “Why, they’re gone,” I said as I flipped faster through a few more pages. All the little black photo mounting corners that had held the pictures in place were empty. Dark squares stood out against the faded pages, showing where the photographs had once been. “Someone’s taken them all.”
Jasper frowned. “What? All of them?”
“Yes, after the pictures of the preparations to turn Parkview into a hospital, there’s nothing. Not a single photograph.”
A quick look through the rest of the albums showed they didn’t contain any photos from during the war.
We were hunched over the table, our heads bent. Jasper looked sideways at me, his hands braced on the table. “There could only be one reason someone would remove all of them—someone was worried about what was in the photos.”
I straightened and closed the heavy album with a thump. “But was it Mr. Payne who removed them, or someone else? And where are they now?”
“Burnt, I imagine.” Jasper straightened and glanced at the fireplace, where the flames were flickering.
“That’s horrible. What a loss! Those might have been the last photos taken of some of the men who didn’t survive the war. To destroy that record—it’s—well, it’s like destroying an archive.”
“Terrible,” Jasper agreed, “but a small thing compared to murder.”
Chapter Nineteen
Unlike the incident at the ruin when Peter was pushed, we weren’t able to keep the missing photographs quiet. I rang up the police station in Nether Woodsmoor, and Inspector Longly arrived with several constables. They were currently searching every fireplace in Parkview, something that couldn’t be kept hush-hush. The search was the main topic of conversation during afternoon tea. The ladies, who were better represented than the men, had gathered around the tea table, but Uncle Leo sat away from the group, nestled in an armchair behind his raised newspaper. Jasper went off to try to convince Peter to report being pushed off the trail. Captain Inglebrook stood at the window, his gaze focused on the gardens.
Sonia came in carrying her needlepoint and took a seat. Aunt Caroline paused in pouring the tea. “Cecil’s not coming?”
Sonia slipped a thimble on and arranged her thread. “No, he’s at a particularly tricky part and wants to finish. I arranged for his tea to be sent to him there.”
Aunt Caroline resumed pouring. “He’s always at a tricky point.” Aunt Caroline handed the saucer to Gwen, who was passing the cups around.
Gwen handed the cup to Miss Miller. “He’s just the same as you when you are involved in a painting.”
Aunt Caroline’s expression telegraphed her disapproval at the comparison, but she didn’t pursue the topic. She turned to Miss Miller. “What were you saying earlier, Marion?”
Miss Miller blinked. “What?
“About the missing photographs,” Aunt Caroline added.
Miss Miller replaced her cup in the saucer. “Oh, yes. I don’t see why the police are making such a fuss about the photographs.”
“It means Mr. Payne’s death must have something to do with his time here at Parkview during the war,” Gwen said promptly.
She was eager to get out the news that there was another possible explanation for Payne’s death besides Peter having an episode.
“You mean the time he mentioned when we toured the house? When he was here as a patient?”
“Exactly,” Gwen said. She passed a plate of biscuits. “You were here then, Miss Miller. Do you remember him?”
Miss Miller fumbled with the biscuit, dropping crumbs into her lap. “No, I didn’t recognize him at all.”
“I didn’t realize you worked here at Parkview during that time, Miss Miller. Did you have nursing experience?” I took a biscuit and passed the plate to Gigi, who was reclining on the settee with one leg curled up under her.
“Heavens, no,” Miss Miller said. “I only helped out, reading to the patients and doing jigsaw puzzles occasionally. Early on during the war, I dropped in a few times a week, but the men preferred the prettier, younger girls to me. I wasn’t as much in demand as they were. And then poor Winston broke his hip, and I had to attend to him. That was in nineteen fifteen, I believe. Such a trying time. Winston was cranky and the news was so terrible all the time.” She put down her biscuit without taking a bite. “It was so bleak then. I was never able to return to Parkview. Poor Winston required all my attention.” Miss Miller nodded at Sonia. “The only person here with any nursing experience is our clever Sonia, I believe. I don’t see how you did it,” Miss Miller said to Sonia. “Winston was grumpy—extremely grumpy—not at all his usual demeanor.”
Sonia had accepted a cup of tea but had placed it on the table beside her instead of drinking it. She’d continued to work on her needlepoint, but the light glinting on the needle showed the trembling of her hands. However, her voice was smooth as she said, “Patients are often not at their best. The pain makes them testy. It’s best to just pretend they’re not rude or whiney.”
“Still, it must have been so difficult,” Miss Miller said. “At least your surroundings were lovely.” Miss Miller gestured with her teacup to the room.
Sonia stabbed the needle into the fabric at an angle to stow it away, then tucked the fabric down between the edge of the chair and her leg. “Oh, I didn’t work here as a nurse, only in a hospital in London.” She turned slightly to me. “That’s how I came to be your father’s nurse.” She tilted her head toward Aunt Caroline. “When he fell ill, Lady Caroline recommended me.”
“Oh, I hadn’t realized.”
Captain Inglebrook swiveled away from the window. “Well, if Lucas needed another reason to exclude me from his inquiries—and he doesn’t, of course,” he said with a little laugh, “then that’s it. If it’s down to something that happened here during the war, that leaves me out of it.”
Gigi swung her foot back and forth and looked at him from underneath her lashes. “That makes two of us.”
Only Gigi could make a statement like that and have it come off sounding rather suggestive.
Captain Inglebrook raised his eyebrows a fraction, clearly interested in playing along with Gigi’s provocative tone. “Indeed?”
“This is my first visit to Parkview as well,” Gigi said. “I’ve never run across Mr. Payne socially, thank goodness.”
Aunt Caroline drew a breath to change the topic, but the door opened and Inspector Longly entered. Everyone fell silent.
Aunt Caroline pursed her lips. Clearly, she was in the same camp as Gwen and wasn’t happy with the inspector, but her good breeding came through as she spoke into the awkward pause. “Inspector, do join us for a cup of tea.”
“Thank you, but I cannot at the moment.” He paused halfway across the carpet, then spotted Uncle Leo, who’d lowered his paper. “We’ve finished our search, Sir Leo. Thank you for cooperating.”
“Of course. Can’t stand in the way of an investigation. Wouldn’t be cricket. Find anything?”
“In the fireplaces, no. But the remnants of some photographs were discovered in the incinerator.”
“In the incinerator,” Gigi said with a laugh. “How can that be? Wouldn’t anything in there be—well, incinerated?”
“Not always, Lady Gina,” Longly said. “It depends on where items are inside the centra
l chamber. If they’re off to the side, away from the main area where the burning occurs, they can remain intact or fragments of the items can be left behind, which is what we have. The edges of several photographs.”
“How can you be sure it was a photograph?” Aunt Caroline asked.
“The gloss on the paper is quite clear. There’s no question what the fragments were, and it shows that someone here at Parkview went out of their way to destroy evidence.”
Gwen put her saucer down with a snap. “And it’s further proof Peter had nothing to do with Mr. Payne’s death. Peter was hardly ever here during the war. He was at school, and then fighting,” Gwen said in a challenging tone to the room at large, but I knew her comments were directed to Longly.
Longly stared at Gwen a moment, his expression completely shut down. “That may be the case, but it requires further investigation. Sir Leo, it’s necessary that I speak to your guests again. The library is occupied. May I have use of your study?”
“Certainly. It’s at your disposal.” Leo folded his paper. “Shall I go with you now?”
“Yes, that would be helpful,” Longly said. “And after that, Miss Belgrave, then Miss Stone, please.”
“It’s just so frustrating,” Gwen said as she plopped down on the sofa beside me in the drawing room after her interview with Longly. I’d already had my turn. I’d told him everything I could about the photo albums, which didn’t amount to much more than I’d looked through them and found the photos missing. Gwen kept her voice soft so as not to disturb the other occupants of the drawing room, who were still arranged around the tea tray at the other side of the room, but her voice vibrated with irritation. “Clearly the missing photos are crucial, but Inspector Longly seemed to think they were of no importance.”
“I don’t think that’s true. He did have the house searched for them and he’s speaking to each of us about them.”
Gwen didn’t seem to hear me and continued speaking. “Inspector Longly is the most infuriating man in all of England, no—in all the world.”
