Proper English

by KJ Charles

  PAT WASN’T EXPECTING anywhere in Rodington Court to be a happy environment, but even so, the icy atmosphere in the drawing room was startling. Preston and Victoria were nowhere to be seen. Bill was in the corner hiding behind a three-day-old newspaper; Jimmy stood by the fireplace, and if he’d had a tail it would have been lashing. Lady Anna was seated on the settee with Jack. Pat could not think that remotely appropriate, and her face probably gave away her disapproval because Lady Anna gave her a frozen glare and said, “You do realise I don’t have blacks?”

  “Sorry?”

  “I didn’t bring funereal garments.” She spat the words out. “Since I didn’t expect my husband to die. And I am hardly going to squeeze into my mother’s old clothes.”

  “I really didn’t expect you to,” Pat said, moving to the tea tray.

  “For heaven’s sake, nobody cares,” Jimmy added. “If I was going to criticise your behaviour—”

  Lady Anna’s knuckles whitened. “You had better not.”

  “No, don’t,” Bill said, putting the newspaper down. “We’ve enough to deal with as it is.”

  “Caused by her blasted rotten husband.” Jimmy’s voice was shaking. “I don’t know if you have any idea how ghastly this is going to be for everyone, Anna.”

  “You can hardly blame me because someone stabbed Maurice. Blame him, blame me, it’s never your fault, is it? You’re always the golden boy—”

  “If you mean I didn’t ruin the family with my damn fool goings-on—”

  “Jim!”

  The Yoxall siblings glowered at each other. Fen jumped in. “You may blame Lady Anna for her choice of husband, Jimmy, though I don’t think you’ve much of a leg to stand on when it comes to personal affairs.” Bill’s eyes widened sharply. “But you can’t blame her for what happened to Mr. Haworth, since Lady Anna is one of the few of us to have an alibi.”

  Lady Anna’s nostrils flared. “I beg your pardon. I am not aware you know my movements.”

  “We all do,” Fen said. “You were with Mr. Bouvier-Lynes in your bedroom yesterday morning, before lunch. Isn’t that right?”

  Lady Anna looked as though she’d been slapped, down to the reddening of her cheeks. “You impertinent, ill-bred child. How dare you?”

  Fen had gone rather pink herself, but held her ground. “It’s what he said. Is that not the case? I’ll apologise if I’m misinformed.”

  “You are not misinformed,” Jack said through his teeth. He held up both hands as Lady Anna swung round to him. “My first concern was to establish your innocence.”

  “Who ever doubted it?” Lady Anna demanded, pitch rising.

  “Jack was good enough to say that only someone who knew the house well would have thought to use an ornamental dagger for murder,” Jimmy said. “Like you, Anna, or me.”

  “Or Victoria,” Lady Anna flashed.

  “I was not making accusations!” Jack almost shouted as the siblings’ voices rose again. “The police won’t respect your privacy, Anna. They’ll look at your marriage and ask all sorts of offensive prying questions, examine your behaviour and probe for guilt. Think about that.”

  Lady Anna’s facial muscles were drawn tight with revulsion. Pat almost felt sorry for her. It was one thing to misbehave in fast society among peers who would understand, quite another to be held up to conventional morality and found wanting.

  Jack went on, urgently. “But the fact is, if you and I were together between half past eleven and luncheon, as we were, you cannot be suspected. Maurice was last seen at half past eleven. I left his side just at that time and came upstairs to you. From luncheon onwards everyone was in company. The fact that I can swear to your whereabouts for the entire period before lunch makes your private business irrelevant to the investigation, do you see? And if the police understand that from the start, they will be far less likely to waste their time on impertinent enquiries. We have to be frank, darling.”

  “And will everyone else be subjected to the same intrusion into their affairs?” Lady Anna demanded, voice cracking.

  “I should think so,” Fen said. “It will be ghastly for all of us. What time exactly did Mr. Bouvier-Lynes join you?”

  “I see no reason to respond to these enquiries from anyone except the police,” Lady Anna said. “And I shall not stay to be insulted.”

  She stalked out. Jack followed her. Jimmy moved forward with the obvious intention of stopping him, but Bill took his arm, and after a second, he stepped back.

  “Well, that was a delightful interlude,” Bill remarked. “Are you ladies determined to render this visit even more hideous than it already was?”

  “I’m afraid so, Mr. Merton,” Fen said. “Do you mind if I lock the door?” She moved towards it without waiting for agreement. “I think we need a private conversation.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  The four of them looked at once another once Fen had locked the door. Nobody wanted to begin.

  Bill folded his arms. “I suppose we all know what this is about.”

  “That depends,” Pat said. “Haworth was killed between half past eleven and one o’clock. Fen and I were together. So, according to themselves, were Lady Anna and Jack, and Preston and Victoria. That leaves the Earl and Countess, and you two, and you lied—really very obviously—about your whereabouts this morning. No, don’t say anything,” she went on as Bill opened his mouth. “I don’t want you to lie to me again. And by the way, the day after we arrived, I overheard Haworth committing blackmail.”

  “What?” Bill barked.

  “He was in the process of extorting money to keep a secret. I didn’t hear his victim’s voice clearly, just Haworth’s half of the conversation, but it was a man. And if someone in this house was being blackmailed—”

  “Now hold on a blasted minute,” Bill said furiously. “Nobody is blackmailing me, and you cannot possibly think I had anything to do with Haworth’s death!”

  “You lied about Jimmy’s whereabouts. He said you weren’t together and you stopped him and gave him an alibi. Jimmy had as good reason as anyone in the world to hate Haworth, and you were both in the East Wing when he was killed. And—and I don’t care about that ghastly man, he had it coming, but I want to know exactly what the devil you’re playing at because he’s dead and you two lied!”

  Jimmy was a horrible shade of grey. Bill looked as if he might be sick. “You’re wrong. Neither of us laid a hand on Haworth. We were together all that time—” Pat made a strangled noise. “We were,” Bill insisted. “For God’s sake, Pat, I didn’t lie. Jimmy did.”

  “Jimmy? Jimmy made up a lie so as to not have an alibi?” Her voice was rising to the kind of pitch Fen could achieve. “How stupid do you think I am? You lie in murder investigations to look less guilty, not more!”

  “Oh Christ.” Jimmy turned away, shoulders hunched, a picture of wretched shame.

  Bill shot a glance at the locked door and lowered his voice to a subdued snarl. “He was trying to make us look less guilty, curse it. There are other offences as well as murder, and some of them prey on the mind!”

  “What other—”

  “Pat,” Fen said, voice warning. “Deep breath, and think.”

  Pat thought. Then she sat down, heavily, and put her face in her hands. After a moment of silence there was a rustle, and Fen’s fingers closed on her shoulder.

  “Pat.” Bill sounded anguished. “You aren’t crying, are you? I dare say you’re upset, but—”

  “I’m not crying and I’m not upset, you fool,” Pat said, smacking away a tear. “I’m relieved. Do you have any idea what that looked like, telling Jimmy where he was and what to say, with him having so much reason to loathe the ghastly man?”

  “I’m sorry, old thing. You must see, I had to shut him up before he talked himself onto the gallows. ‘Oh no, I was definitely on my own all that time.’ Idiot.”

  “I’m sorry,” Jimmy said, muffled. “I didn’t think.”

  “You never do,” Bill said. “You
never bloody do.”

  Fen’s hand flexed on Pat’s shoulder, the small palm giving her an unmistakable shove. She rose, marched over, and grabbed her brother in an awkward hug. They weren’t a family for casual embraces, but it was surely what Fen had meant, and it needed doing.

  Bill was rigid for a second, and then his arms came round her. Pat didn’t think they’d held each other since the memorial service for Frank and Donald, and the memory made her grip tighter. She couldn’t lose another brother. She couldn’t lose quiet, solid, wonderful Bill.

  “Oh Lord,” Bill said into her hair after a moment. His voice was just a little uneven. “It’s a bit ripe, my own sister thinking I’m covering up a murder.”

  “Serves you right.”

  “Did you imply you weren’t going to hand us over to the police even if we had done it?”

  “Shut up.”

  Bill’s arms tightened. It felt...comforting, in fact. Perhaps there was something to physical affection, freely given, that loosened the muscles. “Are we all square, old girl?” he asked, voice muffled. “I’m fond of you, you know.”

  “Same.” And that was enough sentiment. Pat stepped back, wiping her irritating eyes, saw Jimmy’s rigid back, and said, “You’re a bigger idiot than Bill, Jimmy Yoxall. Do try to use what brains you have.”

  Jimmy made a noise in his throat. Fen went up to him, putting a hand on his arm. “Don’t worry. It really is all right.”

  “It isn’t,” Jimmy said violently. “If Pat of all people suspected I could have done this thing, what will the police think? What will everyone think? God knows my family has every reason to want him dead, and if nobody else could have done it, and I’ve made us look guilty with my idiotic efforts—and if the police find out—”

  “Steady.” Bill went over, taking him by the shoulders. “Come on. It’s not that bad.”

  “Yes, it is,” Jimmy said. “It’s exactly that bad.”

  “Was Mr. Haworth blackmailing you?” Fen asked. “I don’t want to pry, of course,” she added as both men turned to look at her with identical expressions, “but you see, it makes quite a lot of difference. If he knew, he might have something written down, say, which we’d need to get rid of before the police arrive because there’s no point confusing them with irrelevant facts, is there? And more to the point, if he wasn’t blackmailing you, he was blackmailing someone else.”

  Jimmy gave an exasperated sigh, but Bill’s expression sharpened. “That’s the nub of it, isn’t it? You’re sure of what you heard, Pat?”

  “Absolutely.

  “And Haworth didn’t speak to you about this, Jim?”

  “I would have told you.”

  “You’ve omitted several salient facts in recent months,” Bill said pointedly. “However. This is a bit odd, you know. Given the Earl was already paying through the nose, a male blackmail victim surely has to be Preston or Jack, each of whom has a lady swearing to his whereabouts. Unless it was one of the servants.”

  “Fen’s maid thinks all their movements are accounted for,” Pat said.

  “But everyone’s moves are accounted for.”

  “Not the Earl and Countess yet. Sorry, Jimmy.”

  Bill frowned. “The Earl and Countess, or at least one couple is lying. This really is what the police are for, you know, to pin down the fine detail and find the inconsistencies.”

  “Yes, but what if they can’t?” Pat said. “We were all squirrelled away in pairs, actively avoiding one another, and the staff were busy. If nobody saw the murderer moving around, it will remain a case of ‘our word against yours’. In which case they’ll start looking at motives.”

  “Which is to say, at me or Anna,” Jimmy said.

  “Or Bill, because Jack is unlikely to keep quiet about that blunder of yours,” Pat said.

  “I’m sure we can rely on him to mention it,” Jimmy snapped. “He was very ready to sacrifice my sister’s reputation to remove himself from suspicion.”

  “It would be a bit late for him to start pretending their relationship was innocent,” Bill said. “And he’s absolutely right that she would be suspected, so there’s no point getting on your high horse over it.”

  “Nevertheless,” Pat said, before this could develop into an argument. “We need to work this out for ourselves before it gets down to motives, and interrogations about exactly how people passed the time. The blackmail candidates are Preston and Jack. I asked Preston if he was being blackmailed—”

  “You what?”

  “—and he said no. I believe him.”

  “You really cannot go around asking people if they’re being blackmailed,” Bill said. “For goodness’ sake, Pat. And I doubt you can believe them when they say no. But assuming that’s the case, it leaves Jack, and I really don’t see how Haworth could blackmail him over an affair with his own wife.”

  “Well, no. It’s hardly a secret,” Fen said.

  “That, and Jack wouldn’t suffer any significant consequences from it becoming public knowledge. A blackmailer needs to hold consequences, immediate unavoidable ones, over his victim’s head. The game only works if he has a trump card.”

  “Lady Anna would have suffered. Might Jack be keen to protect her name rather than his?” Pat offered.

  Jimmy snorted. “Then he should have behaved differently for some time. But one couldn’t blackmail Jack anyway, because he hasn’t got anything. Fellow lives off the card table.”

  Bill frowned. “Whereas Preston is well off, and he went for Haworth’s throat as if he loathed him.”

  Pat rolled her eyes. “Honestly, Bill. He and Victoria are engaged.”

  “Oh, well, that explains it. I don’t really see Preston pulling off a cold-blooded murder in any case.” He frowned. “Whereas Miss Singh seems extremely level-headed. Theoretically speaking, would Preston lie to cover for her?”

  Jimmy shook his head. “Preston’s a good man but he’s no actor, and more to the point, it simply can’t have been Victoria. I’ve known her all my life and she is one of the most decent, principled people I’ve ever met. I’d—oh Lord—I’d put Anna before her in the list, if I had to.”

  “Yes,” Fen said. “Because Lady Anna does have the strongest motive by miles, Jimmy, except for your parents.”

  “My parents aren’t murderers,” Jimmy said, then recoiled slightly as the implication of his own words dawned on him. “That is— Look, Anna’s had an awful time with Maurice and she hasn’t behaved well herself, but...” He visibly searched for something to add to but, and didn’t find anything. The word hung, empty, in the air.

  “She sent her maid away at twenty past,” Fen said. “Disregarding Jack’s testimony for a moment, we heard footsteps coming past, from the East Wing towards the family’s bedrooms, at about twenty to or quarter to. I didn’t hear a door open and shut, and I think we would have done if it had been Victoria’s room, which was just two doors up, but Lady Anna’s is round the corner. And I am very sorry to say it, but it did strike me, when Jack gave their alibi, that he was telling Lady Anna what to say. You were with me from half past eleven.”

  Jimmy put his face in his hands. Bill said, “Jim...” Pain throbbed in his voice.

  “She would have had to come down here after eleven-thirty to get hold of the knife,” Pat said. “Unless she took it early, but her maid was with her all morning, and Haworth and Jack were in here until almost half past. Then she would have gone back up the west stairs and round the back—”

  “No, because we went up there at half past to your room,” Fen said. “She couldn’t have walked along the back corridor towards the East Wing without us hearing, I don’t think. She’d have had to come downstairs after half past eleven, collect the knife, and go through the main hall to the East Wing unseen.”

  “Either way, Jack is lying,” Bill said. “He says he went straight up to her when Haworth left him. He’s covering for her.”

  Jimmy made a noise in his throat. Bill shot a flicker of a glance at Pat, th
en moved over and put a hand on his shoulder.

  “I’ve a question,” Fen said. “How did she know where Haworth was? This is a huge house and it’s an absolute nuisance to find anyone, but nobody has reported anyone knocking on doors and looking for people. Even if Jack told her that Haworth went to the East Wing, it has all sorts of rooms.”

  “The appointment Jack mentioned?” Bill said. “Assuming it exists.”

  “But that doesn’t makes sense,” Fen said. “He wouldn’t make an appointment to meet his own wife. Unless he made it with Jack, who told Lady Anna. But Haworth was already with Jack—or so he says—so they’d surely have talked in the drawing room or gone to the East Wing together.”

  “You’re right. It doesn’t make sense,” Bill said. “What’s abundantly clear is that Jack has been less than honest, and I think we need another conversation with him. It seems to me he’s holding all the cards here. He so often does.”

  It felt like having her ears boxed. The impact was sudden, stunning, filling her head with light and sound that blotted out every other consideration. Pat stared at nothing as the others kept talking. Bill said something she didn’t hear, but it made Jimmy uncurl from his hunched misery. Fen replied, equally animated. Pat needed them all to be quiet.

  “Because he went directly there!” Fen was saying as Pat surfaced. “It’s the only thing that makes sense.”

  “You’re right,” Jimmy said. “You’re exactly right. The only reason—”

  “Everyone be quiet. Stop. Good God, shut up!” Pat yelped, throwing manners to the wind. “Bill! Do you have that key?”

  “To the room? Yes. I thought I’d hang on to it.”

  “We need to go. Come on, come on, there’s no time to sit around!”

  “What on earth is it?” Fen demanded.

  “Just a minute. Bill, come on.”

  Pat grabbed Bill’s arm, dragging him to the door, which was locked. She fumbled with the key.

  “Pat!” Fen almost shrieked. “What is it?”

  “I think I know what’s happened, but I have to check.”