by Jack Murray
‘It’s a bit parky, sir,’ offered Coltrane.
This was met by a glare from Stott. Ignoring Curtis and Coltrane, he set to work. The former offered to look for the good doctor in order to assist the Inspector with his preliminary investigation.
By the time they had reached the room, Stott had already slipped into his well-practiced modus operandi. His initial impressions suggested Cavendish’s death may not have been by foul means. Stott’s goal was to confirm, prior to any post-mortem anyway, such a hypothesis. Sadly, on first inspection, it seemed improbable this case involved suicide. Had the worthy Lincolnshire police force captured performance statistics on their personnel it would have revealed an unusually high incidence of suicides and correspondingly low murder rate in the cases investigated by Stott. However, he retained strong hopes that death by natural causes may provide the answer to the unexplained early demise of Lord Cavendish.
When Curtis left the room to find Doctor Bright, Stott made some cursory efforts to inspect the room. First, he checked the doors and then the windows for signs of forced entry. After completing this, he was somewhat at a loss as to what to do next.
Coltrane looked at Stott. He found the Inspector disagreeable and was already having doubts about his chosen profession. Stott presented a figure who seemed an alarming portent for what could happen to him. The man he was looking at was short, rotund and had as red a face as he’d ever seen. The ruddiness of the visage was obscured by a large moustache which would have looked dated ten years ago and now looked positively mid-Victorian. Stott, however, was immensely proud of his moustaches and stroked them often, particularly when asked a question requiring him to buy time before answering it.
Coltrane caught his eye in the hope that he would be asked to do some, detecting. Realizing he had better delegate Coltrane something useful to do, he sent him to round up the domestic staff for an initial interview.
This left Stott alone in the room with the deceased. He spent a few moments looking at Cavendish before casting his eyes around the room without the foggiest idea of what to look for. The room was sparsely furnished. If Stott had not already known, he would have guessed this was a military man or a widower. There was a lack of ornamentation and personal touches. It spoke of a man who had spent much of his life on the move. The window showed no signs of forced entry, but the view was very pleasant.
There was a leather armchair by the window and Stott tried it for size. It was a pity it was so cold as he might have enjoyed sitting there longer. Pondering what to do next he looked out the window. He could see a young man in the grounds walking alone. The young man seemed familiar, but he could not place him and gave it no more thought.
The return of Curtis with Doctor Bright was a relief to Stott. He had run out of things to do and was now a little bored. After formal introductions, Stott dismissed Curtis. Taking in the doctor for a few moments, he asked Bright for his professional opinion on what had led to the demise of Lord Cavendish.
Bright related the events of the previous two days. HIs description tallied with what Curtis had told him earlier. This gave hope to Stott. A locked room with no signs of forced entry, aside from the previous morning, was always good news. Whilst it may speak to the highest form of fiction, in Stott’s experience, locked-room murders were rare bordering on non-existent. He listened intently as Bright continued to speak about Cavendish.
‘I haven’t been able to do a full examination, clearly, but I can detect no signs of violence on his person.’
‘Meaning?’ asked Stott.
‘No wounds or bruising. In the absence of a post-mortem to check for the presence of any toxic agent, it would appear, on the face of it, to be a death by natural causes.’
‘I see. Any other thoughts? Please feel free to offer an opinion here, after all, no one else is around. We’ll keep it to ourselves,’ said Stott conspiratorially.
‘Cavendish was not a young man. Even though he appeared to be in good form on his last night, for all we know he may have had a heart condition or some other illness that he was hiding from his family.’
This seemed a good moment as any for Stott to stroke his moustache. He turned away from Bright and walked over to the door. Having already ascertained it had been forced from the outside by the family, this served no purpose other than to buy time for his next thought. Thankfully it came to him soon. Looking again at Bright he asked, ‘Based on what you’ve seen of Lord Cavendish, your recommendation would be to progress to a post-mortem?’ Bright confirmed this with a nod of his head.
‘Very well. I’m not sure there’s anything more to be gained by staying in this room unless you’ve a desire to contract hypothermia.’ As they left the room and walked into the, distinctly warmer, corridor, Coltrane reappeared. Glancing at Bright he reported to Stott that all the staff had assembled in the kitchen.
‘Excellent, we can kill two birds with one stone. I don’t suppose you noticed if the cook was preparing lunch. I must confess I’m feeling a little bit peckish.’ Coltrane gazed at the large stomach of the venerable Inspector.
‘I believe she was, sir,’ responded Coltrane.
‘Excellent, let us interrogate the staff. Lead on Coltrane.’
The three men walked down the stairs into the main hallway. Stott looked at the grand Christmas tree and wondered how long it would remain given the tragic circumstances of the last few days. Bright turned to Stott as they descended the back stairs to the kitchen.
‘May I ask you a question Inspector?’
‘Of course, Doctor Bright.’
‘Why has an Inspector from Lincoln come all the way over here for what may have been death by natural causes?’
‘Good question,’ replied Stott, more passionately than he had intended.
In fact, Stott heartily agreed with the sentiment. How he wished he was in a nice warm station, at this moment, rather than moving from one cold room to an equally cold and drafty corridor. He might soon need a doctor himself. However, he felt Bright was owed an explanation for his presence and it might be an opportunity to check his reactions to the news. Sadly, he could not entirely ignore duty because, no matter how remote the possibility might seem, there was a chance he was talking to a murderer.
‘Lord Cavendish was in receipt, a few years ago, of threatening messages. They were delivered by post at Christmas. He reported them to the police. We even went as far as to send some officers out to patrol the grounds in case an attempt was made on his life. Evidently, nothing untoward took place. In the end, Lord Cavendish thanked us for our preparedness but decided no further action was necessary.’
‘Good Lord,’ exclaimed Bright, ‘I think I understand now why Kit wanted to question everyone.’
‘Kit?’
‘Kit Aston,’ said Bright before adding, ‘Lord Aston.’
‘Lord Aston is here? I must have missed this from er…’
‘Curtis.’
‘Indeed, Curtis. Well, this is very interesting; I’ve heard a lot about his Lord Aston. I look forward to meeting him. Where is he exactly?’
Chapter 23
The answer to this question would have surprised the estimable Inspector. Kit Aston was staring down at a gun Mary Cavendish was pointing at his chest. After the initial shock, a smile spread slowly over Kit’s face and he said after a few moments, ‘Am I supposed to put my hands up?’ The casualness in his tone of voice suggested that he did not view his life to be in imminent danger.
Dismayed, Mary pulled a face and turned the gun towards Esther who was holding a cigarette. Pulling the trigger on the gun caused a tiny flame to emerge, sufficient to light the proffered cigarette.
‘You’re no fun,’ pouted Mary.
‘I assure you; I can be tremendous fun in the right circumstances,’ replied Kit. Mary shot Kit a look but made no reply. Kit continued in a more serious tone, ‘How are you feeling?’
Esther still looked tearful, but Mary was more in control and replied, ‘It’ll be a while befor
e it sinks in. I try not to think of what life will be like without him. I want to know what happened. Have you had any more thoughts Kit?
‘I still don’t want to speculate too much. I walked into the village earlier to see Tom Simmons. No one had told him. He was quite upset. Clearly, he had a high regard for your grandfather.’
Esther grimaced slightly and said to Mary, ‘We should’ve called him.’
‘How could we Essie?’ said Mary gently, ‘There was no line.’
Kit continued, ‘When I was coming back, I saw Mrs Edmunds and her daughter. Harry saw them yesterday. I gather the daughter seems to be somewhat headstrong.’
Mary smiled and raised her eyebrows, ‘She’s getting to that age, I suppose. I’m sure Essie and I would’ve been no different. Well maybe not, you Essie.’
A thought struck her, and she added, ‘Why did Mr Miller go to see them? Do you think someone from the Edmunds family would’ve reason to kill grandpapa?’
‘It makes sense to see everyone and check their movements. Only then can we discount their involvement. The particular reason for seeing them is that we found fresh tracks in the snow from their cottage to the Hall. They could only have been made on Christmas morning or late last night. I wanted to check who had made them.’
Esther and Mary nodded but said nothing. Was there a hint of a smile? Kit couldn’t tell, it was momentary.
‘What’s Jane like? I gather she looks after your horses.’
Esther answered, ‘She loves the horses; spends all her time with them. Always has. But you’re right, she is a bit less friendly now. Not unfriendly, just more distant with us now.’ There was a wistfulness on her voice.
‘You mean she was friendly in the past?’ asked Kit.
‘Oh yes,’ said Mary. ‘She used to spend all her time with us; she was like a little sister for us and Henry. We probably treated her dreadfully, but she was a good sport and we always had a good laugh. She even joined us in our lessons with the governess. She’s actually very bright.’
‘Henry? I thought he didn’t spend much time here?’
Esther chipped in, ‘Henry used to spend the summer here when Uncle Robert was still alive. And Christmas, of course. It wasn’t until we lost papa and Uncle Robert that things changed. He and Aunt Emily became more withdrawn. We did, too, I suspect.’
Mary continued, ‘Jane and Henry were closer in age. They were thick as thieves for a while and then, as Essie says, everything changed. I went away, Esther, too. Jane was left alone. Probably this was a source of resentment. Who knows?’
‘I don’t think she goes to school anymore,’ added Esther.
‘Why would she?’ responded Mary, ‘She would be too advanced for the other children in the village, although I believe Mrs Grout used to visit her. I think she had her eye on Jane as a teacher.’
‘Mrs Grout?’ laughed Esther, ‘Of all the people. I think you’re right Mary, Jane would have been a fish out of water at the school. She loves books. Had a free rein in the library – she would spend her time there when she couldn’t be with the horses.’
Kit listened intently for the next few minutes as the sisters, virtually ignoring him, discussed Jane. Finally, he asked, ‘You say she’s distant with you now?’
‘Yes, not exactly friendly but not unfriendly either,’ replied Esther, ‘You’re not suggesting she had something to do with Grandpapa’s death?’
‘No,’ said Kit, ‘just a loose end, but I think I understand the tracks in the snow better now and why the staff remained quiet on the subject.’
Mary clapped her hands excitedly, ‘I think I know. Books. Jane was coming to get books from the library.’
‘Of course,’ exclaimed Esther, ‘Very good Mary, you should be a detective.’
Kit smiled at Mary, ‘I think you’re right, for the most part.’
This caused Mary to frown at Kit, ‘Most part?’
‘For another time, Mary. Anyway, I’m not as quick to jump to conclusions as the sleuths of Cavendish Hall. I prefer something the legal profession has designated as being fundamental in criminal cases.’
‘What do you mean?’ asked Esther.
‘He’s mocking us Essie, ignore him. Evidence is overrated, Lord Aston,’ observed Mary.
‘I shall remind you of that.’
‘Very well Lord Aston,’ said Mary, ‘If it’s evidence you are searching for, have you uncovered anything yet pointing to a motive from a potential killer or, at the very least, person who likes writing threatening Christmas cards?’
Kit sat down on one of the seats and shook his head ruefully. ‘Harry and I have spoken to everyone. Some questions remain unanswered but for the most part I can see no obvious motive for either the threatening cards or anything else, so far.’
‘You haven’t questioned everyone,’ pointed out Mary.
Kit looked at Mary and Esther questioningly, ‘Who have I missed?’
‘Your man, Mr Miller,’ answered Mary. Before Kit could speak, she handed him the photograph of the battalion. ‘Tell me what you see in this picture.’
Kit looked at it for a moment and said, ‘Your uncle is in the centre and Strangerson is sitting at the end.’
‘Look at the soldier with the cocked hat,’ said Mary looking at Kit.
The reaction of Kit was immediate. ‘Good Lord, it’s Harry.’ Then he looked at the date of the photograph. It read, August 1914.
‘Seems a bit funny. Harry said he hadn’t joined until at least a year later.’ He looked again at the soldier with the cocked hat. There could be no question, it looked like Harry. Even the pose seemed to be very much in the cocky spirit of Harry. Why would he mislead Kit on his joining up date? The confusion on Kit’s face was evident and finally Mary put him at ease.
‘It’s not your Mr Miller. Look again.’
She was right. It looked like Harry, but it was a different man. Kit took a moment to reflect on Mary’s words. Harry had never mentioned family and Kit had avoided bringing the topic up. There were many reasons why Harry might be wary of revealing too much about his family background. From the very start of their working relationship, even friendship thought Kit, Harry had been open about a past which existed on the edge of the law. It was possible his family had also been involved in criminal activity.
Looking up at Mary he said finally, ‘Strange, Harry never mentioned a brother to me. In fact, we never really talked much about his family. I always sensed he was a little reluctant to do so. Looking at the face, it seems very like him but, yes, I can see it isn’t. How did you uncover this?’
Mary explained, ‘You put it in my head when you asked if we’d moved the picture. So, I thought to check it in more detail. This man was the first person I saw, the one with the cocked hat. I’m certain grandpapa saw it too.’
‘I’m sure he did, Mary. Harry even remarked on how strangely Lord Cavendish had looked at him. However, it seems odd to me. How could your grandfather possibly have any recollection of an individual soldier? Contact with someone of his rank would have been infrequent to say the least.’
‘I know, that’s why we checked into this with a friend at the War Office,’ said Mary. Kit looked up with surprise at her as she said this. Noting his reaction gave Mary a warm glow of pride. She wanted him to appreciate her intelligence but at the same time she hated the fact that his approval made her happy. For another time she thought. Continuing with her explanation she said, ‘We rang Charlie Chadderton this morning, he’s an old family friend.’
‘Chubby Chadderton!’ exclaimed Kit, ‘My word, I can’t believe you know old Chubby. Actually, I shouldn’t really be surprised. Typical Chubby. He seems to know everyone. Particularly if they’re young and pretty.’
Mary smiled and curtsied, ‘Thank you for the compliment your lordship. Is he really nicknamed Chubby? He’s not fat.’
‘Exactly.’ replied Kit
Mary shook her head, ‘Men! I can’t believe you’re all allowed the vote and we aren’t’
‘This is all very well but how do you construe a motive from this?’
There was a slight hesitation from Mary. Esther glanced up at Mary and said, ‘His brother was executed by firing squad. By our troops.’
‘Good Lord. No wonder he never said anything. Did Chubby say why?’
Mary chipped in, ‘No this part has been redacted. We don’t know why he was executed but this isn’t material to any motive relating to grandpapa. However, we know Uncle Robert was in charge of the firing squad. As well as this, Charlie also found out that when his request for a reprieve was denied, it was grandpapa who headed the review tribunal. My grandfather effectively condemned Harry’s brother to death,’ Mary looked sadly at Kit then added, ‘I think he has a very strong motive indeed.’
-
At this same moment, Miller arrived back in the kitchen. All of the staff were there including a rather portly, red-faced moustachioed man who was happily tucking into one of Elsie’s pies. Beside him was a younger man in police uniform. Miller had too much experience with the police not to recognize a Detective Inspector when he saw one. He calmly walked in and breezily introduced himself, ‘Afternoon sir. The name’s Harry Miller. I’m Lord Aston’s man.’
Stott had not arrived at his present state of corpulence by allowing possible criminals to interrupt his repast. He spent fully another minute polishing every last crumb of the delicious pie before he deigned to look up at Miller. He nodded and then motioned for Miller to take a seat.
