by Jack Murray
Chapter 29
28th December 1919: Lincoln County Police Station
Harry Miller lay on his bunk in the police cell. He was bored. It was now around ten. Breakfast had been two hours ago; he was hungry again. The cell was small, barely six feet wide and ten feet long. He knew this because he had measured it earlier. It was empty except for the bed, a slop bucket, and a wash hand basin. The window was too dirty to allow light in and too high up for Miller to look out.
Apart from a pre-bedtime walk, he had not been able to leave the cell since his arrival. In the absence of anything better to do, he fell to the floor and did some press-ups. This is how Inspector Stott found him.
‘Jolly good idea. I wish I’d the energy for this sort of thing,’ said Stott as he entered.
Miller leapt to his feet and nodded. Despite his pre-army career taking him onto the wrong side of the law, his experience with the police and detention had been minimal. It seemed to Miller that Stott was not a bad lot. In fact, he suspected that Stott doubted Miller’s involvement in any murder but was unable to admit as such.
‘Any news, sir?’ asked Miller politely.
‘No, still waiting for the coroner’s report, Miller,’ said Stott glumly before adding, ‘Nothing from Lord Aston either.’
Miller looked disconsolate. He had no doubt he would be cleared but was feeling frustrated by the incarceration. Stott could see he was vexed.
‘We need to conduct a formal interview now, Miller. If you’ll come with me.’
Stott led Miller out into the corridor, and they walked to an adjacent room, which was as densely furnished as the cell he had left. It consisted of one table and two chairs. Stott and an unnamed police officer joined him in the room. Miller sat down opposite Stott and the interview began.
The initial questions dealt with Miller’s whereabouts over the previous three days, who he had been with, when and what he had been doing. Miller answered the questions, truthfully, which included acknowledging he had possibly been the last person to see Cavendish alive on Christmas night. He also admitted to being in the library alone following the death of Cavendish.
Stott appreciated the little manservant’s honesty. He also noted how Lord Aston had not mentioned either of these things. It added to an overall impression that either the man before him had committed no crime or else he was playing a dangerously disingenuous game. However, the latest disclosure, if Cavendish had been murdered, would potentially tighten a noose around his neck. Unusually for Stott, he felt sad about this.
The thought of Lord Aston prompted a different tack in the questions and Miller recounted how they had first met in No Man’s Land and his subsequent employment. These questions confirmed to Stott the reason for Lord Aston’s intense loyalty to Miller as well as the possibility that Kit would not necessarily be a trustworthy witness. It disappointed Stott to think anything bad of the lord but he also took it as a very English sort of loyalty. On reflection, this recommended Lord Aston even more to him. They turned next to the subject of Lord Cavendish. Stott looked at Miller and asked, ‘When did you first meet Lord Cavendish?’
‘Never met him until we arrived Christmas Eve?’ responded Miller.
‘But you were aware of his connection with your brother’s execution?’ continued Stott.
‘I had no idea. The first I heard about my brother was a fortnight after he was dead.’
Stott seemed genuinely surprised by this. ‘Really, weren’t you told anything?’
‘No, I was at the front. Communications were patchy,’ Miller shrugged. ‘I sent a letter to the War Office last year to find out more about what had happened. They weren’t very forthcoming. I’m sure you can check all this Inspector Stott. Just to underline, though, I still don’t know why they executed Dan. There is absolutely no way I would’ve been able to obtain information on who conducted the tribunal, who ordered the execution and who did the shooting.’
‘Then how did the Cavendish sisters acquire this information if it’s not available?’
Miller gave Stott a look that suggested he was being naïve. ‘I don’t have the same set of friends, sir.’
Stott nodded but said nothing. It was certainly true it would have been difficult for Miller to obtain this information. He concluded that it was improbable Miller could have found out from loose talk or private inquiries about the circumstances of his brother’s death without Lord Aston. This presented the extraordinary prospect of Lord Aston being an accomplice. Stott was certainly not the man to waste time on such a line of inquiry.
‘So, you do not know why your brother was executed,’ confirmed Stott.
Miller pondered for a moment and then replied, ‘I know a few blokes who were executed for desertion. Poor devils. But Dan, I don’t know. Wasn’t the type to scare easily.’
He remained silent for a minute thinking through his answer and then added, ‘Dan was not what you’d call a natural order taker. He had problems with authority. I think the only reason he joined up was to avoid the nick. I can see him causing a bit of trouble for the brass. You’d meet a few blokes like Dan. Mouth off a bit about the War; refuse to obey orders. Things like that. Truth is I don’t know, but this has always seemed the most probable explanation.’
‘I see,’ said Stott scribbling on his notebook. ‘Why did the Christmas cards with the threatening messages end up in your pocket?’
Miller slumped a little. ‘Someone planted them.’
‘Who? Why?’ said Stott, getting to the point.
‘Well obviously the man who killed Lord Cavendish. He wanted to avert suspicion. It’s not like it wasn’t easy to plant ‘em. My coat was hung up in a cloakroom. Anyone could’ve done it. The thing is, why would I leave them in my pocket after Lord Cavendish was found dead? It doesn’t make sense. I mightn’t have a university degree but I’m not a total idiot either.’
In fact, Stott agreed with Miller on this. If Miller had murdered Cavendish or unless he was playing a double bluff, it was madness to keep the Christmas cards. However, if Miller was telling the truth then he was right to say anyone could have planted the cards. This was becoming more involved, thought Stott. By now he hoped the coroner’s report would show Cavendish had died of natural causes. Life would be easier for him. When all was said and done, this was all that mattered.
There was a knock on the door.
‘Yes, who is it?’ shouted Stott.
-
Doctor Noel Farrell turned seventy on Christmas Day. Sitting at his desk, he regarded the finished report with distaste. Looking up at the calendar on the wall his eyes fell on a date circled in red ink: the last day of December. This brightened him up, for a moment anyway. He returned to his usual mood of sour dislike of everything and everyone.
He hated Christmas, he hated his name, and he hated the fact that every day this combination would be a reminder of the astonishing lack of imagination on the part of his parents. Some of his colleagues would have described the worthy Doctor as crotchety. If being mean-spirited, cantankerous, and rude was what they meant, then they were underselling him considerably.
In all probability, this was going to be his last ever post-mortem. Retirement beckoned on the last day of the year for the coroner. The only people looking forward to his imminent retirement more than he was, were his colleagues in the hospital, the police, and many upright members of the legal profession, all of whose misfortune it was to have had dealings with him over the years.
One final check of the report on Lord Arthur Cavendish was made and then he placed his report in an envelope and scribbled a note on the front. With some effort, he stood up from his desk walked to the door. Outside was a police constable he had not seen before. He shoved the envelope into the outstretched hand of the young man, turned and slammed the door before the policeman could say thanks.
Three more days and then he would be free. No more dead bodies before then, he prayed. He turned around in his chair and lifted a book from the bookcase behind him.
Opening it he began to read.
-
Constable Coltrane exited Lincoln Hospital and walked over to his bicycle without any apparent urgency. Although wintry, the sun was shining. It was quite a pleasant day really, he thought. Then he remembered he had forgotten his gloves. It might only be a few minutes back to the police station, but he was worried about frostbite. He had read all about the Antarctic explorers and what they had faced. Best to be quick.
One final check of his satchel, everything was in order. The coroner’s report was still there. Unfortunately, it was inside a sealed envelope, so he could not get an advance viewing of the old scroat’s findings. Hopping on his bike, he made his way out of the hospital as quickly as he could.
The journey back to the station took less than five minutes. It was a very cold Coltrane who made his way through the station entrance, past assorted civilians, and some rough looking young men.
‘Where is Inspector Stott?’
‘Interview room,’ came the reply from a colleague. Coltrane turned and made his way towards the room. Along the way he lifted a colleague’s cup of tea from his desk and drained it.
‘Oi!’ shouted his colleague laughing at the impudence of the new recruit. Coltrane laughed and waved the report in the air. His colleague guessed its probable contents and raised his eyebrows questioningly.
Coltrane shrugged and whispered, ‘Sealed.’
‘Pity,’ came the reply.
Coltrane walked to the door of the interview room and knocked. He heard Stott asking who it was. Coltrane announced himself and did not wait for a reply. He entered brandishing the report.
‘The coroner’s report?’ asked Stott, looking at Coltrane with ill-disguised disdain.
‘Yes sir,’ replied Coltrane.
‘Well give it here,’ said Stott grabbing it from the young constable. He opened up and read the contents quickly in silence. Miller looked at him expectantly. His heart was thumping. He had not felt such anguish since that night two years ago. Resisting the urge to rip the report from the policeman’s hands he waited patiently for news. Stott did not keep him waiting long.
Chapter 30
28th December 1919: Cavendish Hall
Henry and Lady Emily came down the stairs together. Curtis immediately went towards them and bowed slightly saying, ‘May I help you with anything?’
Henry replied, ‘Can you round up the staff Curtis? In the kitchen. Don’t forget the Edmonds family. Can you also ask Lady Esther and Mary to join us in the drawing room?’ A moment later he added, ‘Please.’
‘Yes sir,’ responded Curtis and headed towards the kitchen. Something in the tone of voice from Henry perturbed him. Gone was the disdain. The lack of interest was also missing. In its place was a note of authority he had not heard before. This did not augur well, thought Curtis.
Arriving in the kitchen he said, ‘Quick, Lady Emily and Lord Henry are going to come down. They clearly want to make an announcement.’ Looking at Devlin, he said, ‘Can you get the Edmunds family here immediately?’
Devlin went to get his coat. Curtis turned to Elsie, ‘Tidy the kitchen a little, it sounds important. Polly, can you find Lady Esther and Lady Mary and ask them to join master Henry and Lady Emily in the drawing room? I’ll find some seats from the storeroom.’
‘What about us?’ asked Agnes, who was sitting with Godfrey.
‘I should stay if I were you,’ replied Curtis before disappearing into another room. He came back a few minutes with a couple of additional chairs.
‘I think we should all stand but the ladies can sit, what do you think Miss Buchan?’
‘Good idea, Mr Curtis. Should we have any food?
‘No, I think Lord Henry means business,’ said Curtis grimly.
‘Why, what did he say?’ asked Elsie.
‘It’s not what he said, it’s how he said it.’
This bemused Elsie and Miss Buchan, but both remained silent. They all stood waiting for someone to say something. No one did. The atmosphere was gloomy and remained so for the next few minutes while they waited.
The silence was broken by the arrival of the Edmunds family. All three trooped into the kitchen followed by Devlin.
‘What’s happening?’ asked Edmunds to Curtis. His tone was, as ever, brusque.
Curtis stiffened a little but replied, ‘We were requested to assemble by Lord Henry.’ He could not resist glancing at Jane Edmunds, but her face revealed nothing. Edmunds merely nodded in response.
Much to everyone’s surprise, the back door opened and into the kitchen walked two people they had not expected.
-
The walk back was made mostly in silence. Even Sam was unusually quiet as if sensing the anxiety in Kit and Mary. From time to time they would glance at each another. Neither could think of anything to say. Both were thinking of Harry. Until news came through on the coroner’s results any other discussion was impossible. Instead, both were in a limbo that left them feeling hollow.
It was still freezing, and Kit was glad to be back in the Hall. The break had helped rest his leg, but the walk back had made it sore again. When he returned to London, he resolved to find a better prosthetic limb.
Arriving at the back of Cavendish Hall they saw the Edmunds family along with Devlin trooping the sludge. They all entered via the back door leading to the kitchen. Kit turned to Mary to inquire what was happening, but she shrugged, clearly no wiser than he.
‘Shall we go and see?’ he asked.
She nodded, and they changed direction. A minute later they walked into the kitchen. Everyone turned around and looked at them.
‘Hello everyone, are we missing something?’ said Mary brightly.
Curtis was the first to react, ‘Lady Mary. We weren’t expecting you like this.’ Turning to Miss Buchan he said, ‘Perhaps you should go up to the dining room and tell Lady Emily.’
Miss Buchan rose from her seat and headed out of the kitchen as Curtis explained to the new arrivals, ‘We were asked to assemble by Lord Henry. He and Lady Emily are coming down to make an announcement, I believe.’
Mary nodded to Curtis and looked up at Kit, ‘News to me,’ she said taking a seat at the kitchen table.
‘Intriguing,’ said Kit.
A few minutes later Miss Buchan and Polly returned accompanied by Lady Emily, Esther, and Henry. Esther smiled when she saw Mary. It was difficult for her to tell Mary’s mood from her face, but she hoped all would be well with them.
Esther and Lady Emily joined Mary at the table. Henry was standing in the centre facing everyone. He looked at Kit and made a half smile and then faced his audience and began to speak in a tone that surprised everyone by its authority.
‘Thank you everyone for coming together like this, at such short notice.’ Turning to Mary he said, ‘My apologies Mary for not speaking to you before now, but you’d already gone out for a walk.’
Mary nodded and smiled to him, still mildly shocked by the young man before her whom she barely recognized. Then she realized she did. An image of the boy before the teenager came into her mind. She found herself relaxing a little.
‘My reason for calling you together was to address, briefly, the future. I’m sure this is something uppermost in many of your minds and probably a cause for some concern.’
It was clear from the reaction of the staff, as he looked at them, he was accurate in this assessment. Kit glanced around at the audience. He suspected they were as impressed as he was.
‘This may surprise you, but I’m as saddened by the passing of grandpapa as all of you. You’ll have probably guessed by now, this is not something I wanted. But I, like all of you, will now have to adjust to a future without him.’ He paused and there was a genuine emotion in his voice few would have believed him capable not one day previously, ‘I, we, will miss him greatly.’
Esther made little attempt to hide the tears in her eyes as she saw her cousin speak. Lady Emily also looked emotional but maintained her composure.
> ‘I wish to reassure each and every one of you, that you’re welcome here at Cavendish Hall, now and in the future. I do not wish to make any changes that will affect you. You’re as much a part of this house as we are. We value you and hope you will stay.’
Looking deliberately at Jane he continued, ‘I realize also, many of you knew a certain secret that regrettably I’d kept from my mother.’ Henry glanced at his mother who looked up at him admonishingly but not angrily. This was greeted with smiles from the staff, none broader than Elsie.
‘You respected our privacy in this matter. Jane and I will always be grateful for this. There’s nothing else I wish to say for the moment, other than to thank you for your service here on behalf of Esther, Mary, my mother and myself.’
He finished this announcement with a nod and then taking his mother’s hand, led her to the door. Kit, Mary, and Esther also took this as their cue to leave and followed them away from the kitchen.
Upstairs in the hallway Kit went over to Henry and took him to one side. ‘Henry, I may be presumptuous here, but I think your father and grandfather would have been very proud of you today.’
‘Thank you, Lord Aston.’ replied Henry.
‘Kit,’ came the reply and he shook Henry’s hand.
Esther and Mary went upstairs together soon followed by Henry. Lady Emily did not accompany them, and Kit noticed she went back downstairs to the staff quarters instead.
Kit saw Devlin at the foot of the stairs. He went over to him and exchanged a few brief words before heading into the library and making straight for the phone.
‘What news, Chubby?’ said Kit into the receiver. After a minute, listening he replied, ‘I see. Listen can you do one more thing for me? This is may seem strange and its certainly not very legal.’
-
Curtis sat in his room gazing at the picture on the wall. He felt relieved. His worst fears had not been realized. In fact, the Henry who had spoken to them today seemed unrecognizable from the morose and surly young man they had grown used to over the last few years. However, like Mary he remembered a spirited young boy. A sadness swept over him immediately as he thought of his wife. However, for the first time since Lord Cavendish’s passing, he felt optimistic about the future.
