A Lady's Guide to Mischief and Murder

by Dianne Freeman

  “Not exactly. He responded, but he talked all around the questions without ever answering them.” George scowled and gave a shake of his head. “I did learn he arrived in the country on the same day as you and your party.”

  “I wonder if he was on our train.”

  “It would depend on where he was traveling from, and I wasn’t able to weasel that information from him either.” George tossed his napkin on the table. “The man’s as evasive a devil as I’ve ever met. Forgive me, my dear.”

  I waved the apology aside. “He sounds quite mysterious.”

  “It’s been my experience that mysterious gentlemen are usually up to something.”

  “Actually, it reminds me of trying to gain information from you. You can be quite evasive yourself.”

  “Exactly my point, as I am usually up to something.”

  “Hmm, I can’t argue with that. What will you do?”

  “Keep an eye on him certainly. Fiona mentioned paying a call on Lady Esther. That might be a good idea.”

  “Perhaps later in the day. This morning she’ll be taking the other ladies and Rose on a ride to see the ruins of some ancient castle.”

  “You are not going?”

  I feigned regret. “No, I’ll forgo that pleasure in order to be on hand when the police call.”

  “I’ll be eager to hear what you learn.” He came to his feet. “And I should be off to see what I can learn from Gibbs. I hope to be back before the gentlemen return from the field. We can compare notes then.”

  Fiona, looking fresh and chipper in a blue wool morning gown, entered the room and stopped in her tracks upon seeing George. “Good morning, brother dear. What a surprise to find you still at home. Why are you not out shooting?”

  “Sadly, I have an errand to take care of this morning, and I should be off. I leave you in Lady Harleigh’s care.”

  I caught his hand before I left. “Please take care, Mr. Hazelton.”

  He brought my hand to his lips before releasing it. “Always. Promise me you’ll exercise all due caution yourself.”

  “Of course.”

  Once he’d left the room, Fiona blew out a breath, making a rude noise as she poured herself a cup of tea. “I think that means you both plan to behave in a shamefully reckless manner. And what is all this Mr. Hazelton and Lady Harleigh nonsense? I should think the two of you could be less formal around me.” She took a deep sip from her cup, closing her eyes as she savored the brew.

  I gave a toss of my head. “True, but one never knows who’s listening. I’m not quite ready to explain my future plans to my mother just yet.”

  “Then perhaps you’ll explain what escapades the two of you are up to this morning?”

  “No escapades. We’re just looking into the so-called accidents that have been happening around here lately.”

  Fiona set down her cup. “You mean your cousin Charles’s mishap with the arrow yesterday?”

  “Not exclusively, but since you brought it up, did you see anything?”

  “I didn’t see anyone shoot an arrow at him, if that’s what you mean. I was chatting with Eliza Durant at the time and never looked up until Mr. Evingdon let out a shriek. I assume that’s when he was struck.”

  “At least that means I can take Eliza Durant off the list.”

  “Of suspects?” Fiona raised a brow. “You thought she might have shot the arrow?”

  “Someone did. What makes Eliza less likely than anyone else?”

  “Perhaps because she wasn’t part of the competition? She never had a bow in her hand.”

  I glanced at her over the rim of my cup. “Well, there is that. But her husband is the one who started the rumor that Anne shot the arrow, which makes me wonder if he is covering for someone else.”

  “I hadn’t heard that. You don’t believe him?”

  “He didn’t actually say he saw her do it, only that it must be her. I don’t find such an argument very convincing. Besides, Anne denies it.”

  “It amazes me that so many of us were about, yet none of us saw what happened.”

  I dabbed my lips with the napkin and dropped it on the table. “We’ll come to the incident with Charles eventually. First, your brother is going to speak to the steward, and we expect someone from the constabulary to call and speak to the servants about Michael O’Brien. George asked me to take part in those interviews.”

  “Then you’d best make haste. Mrs. Ansel has just escorted a Sergeant Fisk to the servants’ hall.”

  Heavens, I was already making a mess of my investigation. If not for Fiona, I might have missed the police altogether.

  I tracked Mrs. Ansel down in the kitchen, consulting with Mrs. Humphries, the cook. Neither of the women hid their surprise at my sudden appearance in their domain. The housekeeper, in particular, looked quite panicked. She rushed to my side and asked that I speak with her in the hall.

  “I beg your pardon, my lady,” she said, closing the swinging door to the kitchen. “Mrs. Humphries doesn’t yet know the police are here, and I fear she’ll succumb to hysterics again once she hears of it.” She raised her brows. “I assume that’s why you’re here?”

  I’d forgotten the cook had been blamed, at least initially, for O’Brien’s poisoning. “I’m afraid she’ll find out soon enough, Mrs. Ansel.”

  “Yes, but I was hoping to shield her from that news until after luncheon is prepared. Did you wish to speak to the police sergeant?”

  “Yes, do you know where I’ll find him?”

  “He’s in with Mr. Crocker. I can take you to his sitting room.” She took a step toward a hallway, then stopped and turned back to me. “Do you know why they’re here, my lady? I assume it’s about Michael, but I thought the doctor decided he died accidentally.”

  Mrs. Ansel waited with a stoic expression and a straight-backed military bearing that reminded me of my Mrs. Thompson. Housekeepers would probably make excellent military officers if only they had the chance.

  “Do you recall he took the jug of ginger beer we found in Michael O’Brien’s room to test it for arsenic?”

  She nodded.

  “He did not find any.”

  The housekeeper folded her hands at her waist. “But he was convinced the boy died from arsenic poisoning.”

  “And his opinion has not changed. He still believes O’Brien managed to ingest arsenic. He just doesn’t know how, so he notified the police.”

  “Heaven help us if they decide Mrs. Humphries had something to do with it. I don’t know who we’d get to cook for everyone.” Her face reddened when she caught my eye. “What I mean to say is she’s a God-fearing soul. She’d never harm anyone.”

  “I understand your distress, Mrs. Ansel, but there’s no reason to think she poisoned the boy. You all ate the same meal, and no one else even became ill. I’m certain they will question her, but Mrs. Humphries should not be uneasy.”

  She nodded, releasing a long breath.

  “I would like to know if you’ve noticed anything missing that might contain arsenic, rat poison, for instance, or perhaps some cleaning powders that might include it as well.”

  Mrs. Ansel brought her hand to her mouth and widened her eyes.

  “You’ve thought of something?”

  She lowered her hands and clutched them together. “I’m not certain. I’ve recently noticed the rat poison isn’t in the laundry, where we usually keep it, but I just thought someone misplaced it.”

  “A logical conclusion, Mrs. Ansel. And that may be the case. Regardless, I’d like you to start a search for it. Choose someone trustworthy, and if they find it, make sure they tell you precisely where it was. And the police, of course. You should tell them as well.”

  “Yes, my lady.”

  “In the meantime, can you show me to Mr. Crocker’s sitting room?”

  I followed her a few steps down the hallway where she turned and rapped sharply on a door then opened it to reveal a small sitting room. Mr. Crocker and another man sat at either end o
f a small, rectangular table. Both came to their feet as I stepped inside. Mrs. Ansel closed the door softly as she left.

  “Lady Harleigh,” Crocker said. “How can I be of assistance?”

  “I understand a police sergeant is here about Michael O’Brien.” I glanced at the other man; youngish for a sergeant, perhaps thirty. He wore an older, but crisply pressed brown suit. He wore his light brown hair oiled and parted in the center, a bad decision for such a long face. But his mouth is what truly struck me, or rather the smirk he wore. I gave him a nod. “Would that be you, sir?”

  “Indeed, my lady. Sergeant Fisk. There seems to be some question about this O’Brien chap’s death. I’m here to interview the staff and see if we can answer those questions. Mr. C here was just giving me the lie of the land as it were.”

  Mr. C? Crocker wouldn’t like that, and my guess is Fisk knew it. “And what have you determined so far?”

  “Seems like the lad was an employee in good standing. Been here above a year and to hear Mr. C tell it, everyone loved him.”

  I raised a brow at the sarcasm and turned to Crocker whose face was turning just a bit red.

  He nodded. “To the best of my knowledge, O’Brien conducted himself properly and got on with all the staff. I never heard of any trouble.”

  “That’s about as far as we got,” Fisk said.

  “Excellent. Then I haven’t missed much.”

  “You plan to stay?”

  “I most certainly do. Have you another chair, Crocker?”

  Crocker removed the officer’s homburg from the third chair and pulled it out for me, a slight smile tilting his lips as Fisk stared and sputtered, clearly struggling with the change in authority.

  “My lady, Mr. C is here to protect the rights of the staff. I don’t believe you’re needed and you must have more important things to do.”

  “This is definitely the most important thing I have to do, Sergeant Fisk. Please continue with your questions.”

  Fisk snapped open a small notebook and returned his attention to Crocker. “When was the lad’s most recent day off? Do you know where he spent his free time?”

  Crocker returned to his chair. “He had a half day on Sunday. His last full day was the previous Thursday. As to his activities away from Risings, on the first day of their employment, all the staff are told what is expected, and what will not be tolerated, as to their behavior. Unless I hear they are breaking any rules, I don’t pry into their personal lives.”

  Gad, the man was stuffy. If I liked Fisk more, I might have felt sorry for him. “Do you recall what his duties were on the day he died?” The question popped out before I could remind myself this was not my investigation.

  “His duties, my lady?”

  “I’m trying to determine if he’d done anything that might have brought him into contact with arsenic. Did he perform any tasks that varied from his usual routine? Tackling a rodent problem for instance?”

  Crocker nodded his understanding. “I shall have to check my schedule to be certain, but I believe he was performing his regular duties. Ben is the footman who usually worked with him. If Sergeant F is through with me, I’ll bring him in at once.”

  At Fisk’s nod, Crocker left to find the footman, very deliberately leaving the door open. I smiled. Perhaps Crocker and I had become allies of a sort.

  “Stuffy bloke for a servant.” Fisk shook his head as he scribbled notes in his book.

  “Crocker is a highly skilled butler who runs this household. Service is not all bowing and scraping, Mr. Fisk. And if you find him stuffy, I’d advise you not to get on the wrong side of me.”

  The return of Crocker with a young, strapping man in footman’s livery precluded an answer from the sergeant who merely flashed a curious glance my way.

  Crocker introduced the young man as Ben, first footman. About eighteen to twenty, he had an open, earnest expression. While the butler remained standing, Ben took his seat at the table. His hands rested in his lap, his fingers clasped so tightly, the tips had turned white.

  Fisk crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in the chair. “I understand you worked closely with the deceased. Can you tell us what the two of you did on the day he died?”

  The young man squirmed a bit, but I couldn’t tell if it was Crocker or the sergeant who caused the nervous energy. “We were together most of the day. As there are guests, we both laid the table for breakfast and assured the chafing dishes and the coffee and teapots were full. After all the guests had eaten, we cleared away and brushed the room. Two of the gentlemen visitors didn’t bring valets. I attended to Mr. Durant and Michael took care of Mr. Kendrick. They didn’t need much, but from time to time, one of us would leave to answer one of their bells. We both cleared the earl’s office after the gentlemen went in to dine and we both served at dinner.”

  While Fisk jotted down Ben’s words, I probed further. “It sounds as though you were together all day unless you were attending one of the gentlemen. Is that right?”

  He frowned. “Mostly, my lady. Mr. Kendrick rang once more an hour or so after dinner. I was in the common room and heard it. I knocked on Michael’s door to tell him he had a bell. That’s when he told me he felt unwell, so I went up to tend to Mr. Kendrick myself.”

  “You spoke to Michael through the door?”

  “No, I opened the door a bit and looked inside. He was in bed and didn’t look very well at all.”

  Fisk’s head jerked up from his notes. “Did you not think to send for a doctor?”

  “I asked him, sir, but he told me he’d just have some ginger beer and go to sleep.”

  “So you say,” Fisk muttered.

  “So we both say,” Crocker added. “Ben informed me immediately that Michael was ill, and I checked on him myself. He was clearly unwell, so I relieved him of his duties and sent the under-butler to clear the dining room with Ben.”

  Fisk blew out a breath and focused on Ben. “Did you get on with Michael?”

  He tipped his head to the side. “As well as anyone, I suppose.”

  “What about the rest of the staff? Did he rub along well with them?”

  Ben’s gaze moved to the side. Toward Mr. Crocker. Was he concerned about speaking freely before his superior? Or something else? The pause lasted long enough for the butler to clear his throat.

  “All the staff got on. I’ve never heard any complaints or grievances about Michael.” Crocker turned a determined eye on the footman. “Wouldn’t you agree, Ben?”

  Ben took his cue. “Yes, sir. No complaints at all.”

  Really? There wasn’t much to say after that. I heartily wished Delaney were here instead of Fisk. For all his superiority, I saw no evidence he knew what he was doing.

  It didn’t sound as though Michael had done anything throughout the day to bring him in contact with arsenic, and with the rat poison missing, it surely seemed someone might have disliked him enough to slip a bit into his food. After all, the man had become ill just after dinner.

  “Do either of you recall if Michael left the table once your meal had begun?”

  Crocker frowned at the suggestion any of his staff would be rude enough to do such a thing. “He remained with us throughout, my lady.”

  “Mrs. Ansel says the rat poison stored in the laundry is missing. Have you any idea where that may be?” I hated to give Fisk more reason to suspect the servants, but I could hardly keep this to myself.

  All three men turned to me in surprise. Ben shook his head. “No idea at all, ma’am.”

  Fisk gave him a nod. “If you think of anything further, I’ll expect you to send word to the constabulary.”

  The butler turned to the young man as they both came to their feet. “Be certain to let me know as well.”

  Ben left to find, and send in, the next servant. The interview had left me disappointed. Though Fisk appeared to accept Ben’s answers, it seemed to me that under Crocker’s watchful eye, the young man would not speak freely. The following intervi
ews were conducted in the same manner. Fisk asked everyone essentially the same questions. Almost all of them showed the same hesitation before answering, as Ben had done. But each one indicated they were one big, happy group. I couldn’t say what Fisk learned from his morning’s work, but I felt as though I knew no more than when we began.

  When he finally gathered his belongings shortly before noon, I asked how he would proceed, and once again received his smug smile. “I’ll be making some inquiries in the village, my lady, and reviewing my notes. Nothing for you to concern yourself with, though I would like to know if the rat poison turns up.”

  I left Crocker to show the man out through the kitchen and went in the opposite direction through the baize door that led to the gallery behind the great hall.

  “Lady Harleigh.”

  I whipped about at the sharp whisper to see Ben, lurking suspiciously under the stairs to the bachelors’ quarters. “Ben. You gave me quite a fright. Is something wrong?”

  “Yes, my lady. Mr. Crocker would dismiss me on the spot if he knew I was talking to you, but I didn’t tell the truth when that police bloke questioned me.”

  I’d hate to see the young man dismissed, but I needed to hear what he’d withheld. “Can you tell me quickly? Are we likely to be overheard here?” I joined him in checking over my shoulder for any intruders.

  I followed him as he drew back under the stairs. “The thing is, ma’am, none of the staff thought much of Michael. Maybe the grooms and the gardeners, and some of the young girls were taken in by him, but the household, in general, didn’t trust him. He’s trifled with the female servants, he drank, and things went missing when he’d been around.”

  I gaped at the young man who continued to glance around the gallery, while he spoke as quickly and quietly as possible. This was a far cry from what he’d told Fisk. “Why did you not mention this earlier?”

  “Mr. Crocker, ma’am. He doesn’t tolerate any nonsense from the staff. And he doesn’t give warnings. He’d have turned the maids out as well as Michael, so they didn’t bring him their complaints. As far as he knows, Michael always behaved just as he should. As for the stealing, like I said, things went missing when he was around, but I never had any proof he took them.”