— — —
As the sun set on the hot and bloody day, Theo stood next to his wife and surveyed the damage to the garrison. Debris crunched underfoot and soldiers were attending the wounded or clearing the bodies of the fallen. Theo looked at Rosalyn proudly; her brave actions had helped to repel the rebels.
“I’m sorry, I should have sent you and the children home as soon as there was mention of a potential rebellion,” he apologised. “I have put you all at risk. It will not happen again.”
“Sssshhh,” Rosalyn soothed him, grabbing hold of his arm. “You did what you thought best. You did your duty and you saw off the rebels.”
“It was costly on both sides,” he replied, shaking his head. “They will be back again, though, with reinforcements. I am not sure the garrison can take another attack like that right now. I will stay to oversee the repairs and to protect the barracks, but you will go to safety as soon as I can make arrangements.”
“No, my love, my place is here with you,” she said. “In good times and in bad; that’s what I promised you before God when we took our wedding vows.”
— — —
A week after the initial attack, before dawn broke, a caravan consisting of three horse-drawn carriages left the garrison to the next British fortifications run by a larger army unit. In the caravan were William Fitzhugh and his family, Theo’s two children, two young British soldiers, and Sitara, Chindi, and Ram. William was to take the women and children to safety at the next British fortification and then come back with reinforcements. They left that day because, based on the scouts’ reports, the rebels were planning on attacking the garrison two days later. Theo told Teddy that if he did not make it back to England, then Teddy would be the next Lord of Fitzhugh Manor. Rosalyn gave Eliza her emerald necklace as a parting gift. Clara and William assured Theo and Rosalyn that if anything happened to them, they would take care of their children and bring them up as their own. Rosalyn cried on her husband’s shoulders as they saw the caravan disappear from their view into the thick jungle.
Two hours after the caravan left, as Theo was overseeing the repairs of the garrison walls, they heard a loud cry. He and the soldiers looked in the direction of Kamalpore and saw rebels streaming out of the city with weapons in hand and some rolling cannons.
“Impossible!” said one of the British soldiers in surprise. “The scouts told us that the rebels would not be attacking for two days.”
Theo did not answer but ran in the direction of the house. He found Rosalyn inside taking care of wounded soldiers in the hall, which had been made into a temporary hospital.
“Rosalyn, get into the bedroom. We’re being attacked again.” He looked at the wounded soldiers. “Men, come on, do your duty; this may be the last battle with the rebels. If we have to, we will all die like heroes defending Her Majesty’s empire. Do it for the glory of England.” The wounded soldiers, stirred by Theo’s patriotic speech, got up and grabbed their weapons. Theo proudly smiled at the soldiers. He then saw to it that Rosalyn climbed the staircase and he yelled at her to shoot at the rebels if she had to. In the worst case she was to save the last bullet for herself; he did not want her being violated by the rebels since she was the only woman in the garrison.
Theo then dashed out and ordered his men to line up in three ranks facing the wooden gates, just as they heard the gates being hit by a battering ram. After four or five hits, the locking beam burst, and the wooden gates were thrown back. Rebels started pouring into the compound like water gushing out from a failed dam. At the same time, the weakened walls were breached once more allowing more, rebels to enter.
“This is it men, fight for queen and country and die like heroes,” yelled Theo as he removed his sword from his sheath. The garrison’s soldiers moved forward and the sounds of gun shots and swords clashing, along with the screams of men, filled the air. Soon, bodies from both sides littered the garrison’s compound.
When Theo knew it was hopeless, he retreated to the house. Wounded and breathless, he staggered into the bedroom. He wanted to be with her as they met their fate. Rosalyn was praying; the pistol with which she had killed some of the rebels was lying next to her. He was glad that she had not yet shot herself. She looked up and gasped when she saw the large bloodied gash where a sword had glanced off his forehead. She ran into his arms and he kissed her. He comforted her, saying that at least their children were safe.
Suddenly, a bugle sounded and the fighting outside the house ceased. Theo and Rosalyn went over to the window. The remaining loyal soldiers had surrendered; the rebels were holding them as prisoners. Theo’s blood ran cold when he saw the rebel leader enter the compound – he now knew who had betrayed them and why the rebels had attacked without any warning. Theo knew that his end would not be long now; his only remaining fear was for the safety of his children.
— — —
The caravan moved at a steady pace until it came to a lake and William commanded the caravan to stop. Clara urged William to move on because she felt unsafe. However, William curtly said that the horses needed to be watered and that this was the only opportunity where they could collect water because there was no other water source for miles. He reminded her again that his scouts had assured him the rebels would only attack two days later.
Clara was upset but didn’t want to antagonise her husband. As they got out of the carriages to walk around, they heard the sound of galloping horses approaching. In a few minutes, three rebels rode up to them.
“It’s my husband,” said Sitara.
Manu Lal came forward, while the other two rebels pointed their guns at them. “We only want the two children of Theo Sahib. Give them to us and you will not be harmed.”
Teddy and Eliza were standing on either side of Sitara and holding on to her. They looked scared when they realised that Manu Lal wanted them, and they began crying and buried their faces in Sitara’s side.
Sitara pleaded with her husband to spare the children because they were innocent. He accused her of betraying her people by going with the firangi. Courageously, she reminded him that he had betrayed her by taking another wife because she was barren, but that the British had treated her kindly and she was like a second mother to their children.
“Then you will die along with your beloved firangi. Come with us,” roared Manu Lal. Seething with rage, he pointed the gun at Sitara and ordered her to bring the two children to him.
Sitara complied and was forced to sit behind Manu Lal on his horse. Teddy and Eliza sat on the other two horses. They rode away, leaving the others bewildered at what had just happened.
Clara looked at William. “We have to do something. Theo entrusted his children to our care.”
William knew she was right. He went to one of the carriages and picked up his sword and revolver. He commanded his two scouts to join him and they rode in pursuit of the rebels.
Chapter 3: The Bloody Murder Scene
Meadowford Village – 1927
Inspector Lester Enderby was a middle-aged man, almost six feet tall, with a thick reddish-brown moustache. He arrived at Fitzhugh Manor, along with two constables, and ordered all of the family members into the living room and the staff into the kitchen. When he saw the murder scene, Inspector Enderby knew that he was not dealing with an ordinary murder. He might have been in the police force for many years, but he had little experience when dealing with murders. So he told Constable Beckett to take pictures of the murder scene and went downstairs to find the telephone. Inspector Enderby asked the operator to connect him to the Metropolitan Police in London.
The telephone rang in the house of Mr. and Mrs. Edmund Carlyle. Edna Carlyle, a middle-aged woman, picked up the phone and then listened to the voice at the other end.
“Ye
s, he’s here,” she replied and then turned to look across the room. “Dermot, it’s your boss.”
Dermot Lucian Carlyle was almost twenty-four years old, six feet tall with sandy coloured hair, and a prominent aquiline nose. When he heard that the call was from his boss, his face fell. He reluctantly took the receiver and placed it to his ear.
“But, Detective Lloyd, I’m on holiday. I am off for two weeks. You promised that I could spend it with my family. I last saw them at Christmas.”
“I understand, Dermot, but this is very important,” his boss replied. “A gruesome murder has been committed and the police in Meadowford are not equipped to solve the case. I knew that you were holidaying nearby and, as you know, they only have a small police station and seven constables working there. Nothing much usually happens in Meadowford besides petty theft or a pub brawl.”
“What happened?” asked Dermot, suddenly intrigued.
“I believe you know the Fitzhugh family from Fitzhugh Manor? They own most of the land about the village.”
“Yes, they’ve been the land owners since Tudor times. My family were their tenants until a few decades ago.”
“Lady Doris Fitzhugh was found murdered in her bed by her maid when she went to wake her up this morning. Inspector Enderby needs help to solve the case. You’re the only one there who’s been trained to investigate a murder and I think that your experience under me will serve you well. Oh, and one more thing, don’t let Inspector Enderby’s brashness get to you. With your patience, I think that the two of you would complement one another.”
Dermot rolled his eyes. “All right, Detective Lloyd, I’ll do my best but this will be my first case without your expert guidance.”
“Thank you. I knew I could count on you. Now, remember to listen to everything, however insignificant and frivolous it may be, since it could be important. Interview the necessary witnesses and don’t give out too many details to anyone… Good luck!”
Dermot placed the phone in its cradle and then explained to his parents. In less than half an hour, he was out of the house and driving his 1923 Bentley. He was proud of his car; it was his prized possession.
Fifteen minutes later, Dermot was in front of the gates of Fitzhugh Manor. He stopped the car and looked at the building in front of him. The Tudor building was situated on top of a small hill, with well-manicured lawns and flowering plants in front of it. As he drove on up the gravel driveway, he noticed that on the right side of the manor house the hill tapered off and there was a smaller building that looked like a stable. Next to that was a path that led to the meadow away from the woods. As a child, he’d always wondered if he would ever get to see the inside of the manor house and, now, he was about to do so. He parked his car and walked up the steps. Inspector Enderby was waiting for him at the front door. Dermot greeted him and introduced himself.
“Thank you for coming. Detective Lloyd speaks very highly of you and he assures me that you are the best man to solve this case.”
“I’ll try my best,” Dermot replied with a smile. He walked inside with Inspector Enderby. Dermot was unsure of what to do; he still considered himself a novice where murders were concerned.
As the two men passed by the living room to climb the staircase, Dermot glanced at the people in there. They looked upset, but a young lady looked at him and smiled. He smiled back and then went up the stairs.
— — —
As they entered the bedroom, Dermot immediately got the smell of blood. He could see the broken teacup, along with the tray and toast where they had fallen. Except for the mess on the floor, the room was immaculate. He went closer to the bed and forced himself to swallow the vomit that came close to his oesophagus.
The murdered woman lay in her bed, bound and gagged. Her throat had been slit from ear to ear. Dermot was astonished to see the amount of blood that had come out of the frail body, bathing her skin and soaking the bed.
Dr. Fielding, the family doctor, was standing next to the bed. Slattery had telephoned him after the body was discovered. He had come immediately and was appalled at the scene. Just a few days earlier, he had examined Lady Fitzhugh and told her that she was healthy for her age and could live to be a hundred. Now, he was staring at her bloody corpse.
Inspector Enderby introduced the two men and Dermot nodded, still trying to stifle his attack of nausea.
“Nasty business, eh?” said Dr. Fielding, amused by Dermot’s sickened face.
“Time of death, Dr. Fielding?” asked Dermot as he tried to hide his embarrassment.
“The heat in this room could put me off by an hour or two, but judging by the rigor mortis I would say around two a.m.”
Dermot turned to Inspector Enderby. “Does anyone know who could’ve wanted her dead? She seemed like a harmless old lady. I remember her coming to the church fair every year and pulling out the winning Tombola ticket. I was the lucky winner one year.”
“The family thinks a maid whom she fired a few weeks ago may’ve wanted her dead. That’s all they can tell us,” said Inspector Enderby.
“We’ll have to talk to this maid. Does the manor have a housekeeper?”
“Yes, her name is Miss Esmey Carter. From what the family tells me, she was very devoted to her Ladyship.”
“She may know why the maid was fired. Housekeepers usually do the firing of the servants under them.” Dermot went to the open jewellery box on the table in front of the mirror and looked inside. “Is anything missing?”
“Yes, the emerald necklace that she wore for her party yesterday. It’s supposed to be a family heirloom.”
“I can see that being a motive for killing her, but to bind and gag her and then slit her throat in such a gruesome way seems too much for just a piece of jewellery. Besides, there are other jewels in here that look valuable, why not take them too?” said Dermot, still looking at the jewellery.
“Maybe she woke up during the robbery,” said Inspector Enderby.
“Possibly, but the savagery of the crime seems like there’s a lot more than meets the eye. Any sign of the murder weapon?”
Inspector Enderby shook his head. “No, but there is a curious impression of something on the carpet under the bed. Probably the handle of the knife that killed her.”
“You could be right,” Dermot said as they looked at the impression. “Was there a struggle?”
“There’s bruising around her mouth and cheek. It seems like the killer put their hand on her mouth to prevent her from shouting for help. Of course, there’s also bruising on the hands and legs because of the ropes,” said Dr. Fielding.
Dermot went to the window and looked outside. He could see a blood stain on the window sill.
“Looks like the killer came in or left through the window. But the question is how could they jump from this height to the ground below? Even if the killer had a rope, the rope would still be tied to something in the room to enable the killer to climb down the wall. Unless, the killer had an accomplice who is someone from the household. The accomplice could’ve taken the rope after the killer escaped. I think perhaps this blood was planted later, to make it look like the killer or killers left through the window.”
“How can you tell?” asked Inspector Enderby.
“The window sill does not show any sign of wear. If there had been a rope on any part of the sill, there would have been some wear as the killer climbed up or down.”
“Hmm, you’re right. So, there must be at least two of them,” said Inspector Enderby.
Dr. Fielding wiped the sweat from his brow with a handkerchief. “I’ll have Dr. Talbot examine the body at the hospital. The body shan’t last long in this heat and humidity.”
“Constable
Beckett has taken pictures of the crime scene, so the body can be shifted to the morgue in the hospital,” said Inspector Enderby.
Dr. Fielding nodded. As Inspector Enderby and Dermot walked out of the room, two men with a stretcher entered the bedroom behind them.
“How is the family doing?” asked Dermot.
“In shock, obviously. They just can’t believe that yesterday she celebrated her eightieth birthday and then, a few hours later, she was murdered in such a gruesome manner.”
They walked down the staircase and went into the living room. It was a beautifully decorated room with a giant chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Oil paintings of family members from past centuries hung on the walls. Everyone looked at the two men with curiosity, except for the young lady who once again smiled at Dermot.
Dermot stood in front of the family and introduced himself. He expressed his sympathies to them and said that he would need to interview all of them. He urged them to tell him everything related to the night before, however insignificant it may seem.
“Who put you in charge? You seem too wet behind the ears to handle my sister’s murder,” said one of the elderly women, clearly annoyed.
“Now, Lilian, I’m sure he knows what he’s doing. Inspector Enderby wouldn’t have him here if he didn’t think so,” said the other elderly woman who was sitting near the first.
Dermot opened his mouth to speak, but Inspector Enderby said sternly, “I know he’s young, but he comes highly recommended by his superior, Detective Lloyd, who’s an esteemed detective in his own right in London. Together, they have helped Scotland Yard solve some difficult cases. He grew up in Meadowford and has given up his holiday to help me with this case.”
Dermot smiled at Inspector Enderby, thanking him silently.
“Thank you for coming, Detective Carlyle. I am Arthur Endecott, Lady Fitzhugh’s nephew. Please forgive my mother; she’s in shock.”
A Bloody Hot Summer Page 3
