Death by the Book

by Deering, Julianna

  “Thank you.”

  When he saw that she was not going to speak or even look at him again, he made a slight bow and turned to go.

  “Before I forget, ma’am, I have a message for you.”

  She lifted her eyes. “A message?”

  “From the, uh, young woman in question. She very much wants you to know that your husband had no feelings for her whatsoever. It’s quite important to her that you understand that.”

  Mrs. Montford gave him a triumphant little smile and said no more.

  Eleven

  Madge, sir. Madge Wheaton.”

  Drew smiled at the sturdy little woman, glad to know she had an actual name. Something besides Cook. She could have been anywhere from fifty to seventy, judging by her round, shiny red face and the single strand of iron-gray hair that had escaped her cap and the severe knot at the back of her head. Her beefy arms and gnarled hands told of years of toil, but her jet-black eyes were merry for all that.

  “And you’ve been here with the Montfords how long?”

  “More than fifteen years, sir. Mr. Daniel hadn’t even begun school, as I remember, and now look at the lamb. Oh, will you sit down, sir, beg pardon for not asking sooner? And will you have some tea?”

  “Thank you. That would be very nice.”

  She began bustling about with the kettle and cups while he sat down at a table dominated by a huge bowl of well-scrubbed carrots and another of peeled potatoes ready for the pot. Like everything else in the kitchen, they were immaculate and appetizing, and he couldn’t help just a touch of covetousness for whatever she would be serving at supper that night. The simmering smells were already making him salivate.

  “Lemon or cream, sir?”

  “Honey, if you have it.”

  That made her grin, a great showing of near-toothless gums. “Oh, lumme, sir, that’s how my own father always took it. And Mum claimed it made him the sweetest man in all Christendom.”

  He gave her a smile in return. “I’ll have to tell that to my young lady. Perhaps it will convince her there’s hope for me after all.”

  “Oh, do, sir.” She brought him a porcelain cup painted with violets and filled with strong tea. “She might well do worse in this bad world.”

  He nodded. “You don’t know how many times I’ve told her just that.”

  She brought some shortbread on a plate that was of a set with the cup. “I made this for Mr. Daniel, but I don’t reckon he’ll mind if you have a bit. Fresh today.”

  “Oh, lovely. I suppose he must be a great favorite of yours, Mr. Daniel.”

  She grinned again. “I’ve cooked for a few houses in my time, and I can tell you plain, sir, I can’t say as all of them was pleasant places, but this was never anything but. And, God love him, Mr. Daniel was always a joy to have round, laughing and playing in the kitchen garden and then coming in begging sweets and all.”

  Drew took a bite of the shortbread. “Very good.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “So, does he still? Beg sweets?”

  “No, not so much these days. I suppose he feels as he must be a grown-up gentleman now and put the childish things back of himself. Of course, I send something up to his room now and again. He likes that, I know.”

  “But he doesn’t usually come down?”

  “Not often. Not anymore. Just now and again.” She picked up a bowl that contained some sort of batter and started stirring. “You don’t mind if I carry on, sir? I do have the supper to prepare.”

  “By all means.”

  He pulled out a chair for her, and she dropped down into it with a grateful sigh. “My feet do sometimes give me trouble. It’s the standing that does it, day in and day out.”

  “I can see how it would. So Mr. Daniel doesn’t come to the kitchen much? Do you remember when the last time was that he did?”

  She leaned her spoon against the edge of the bowl, and the twinkle left her eyes. “I do. It was the day Mr. Montford was killed. I was making currant buns for tea, sitting just here and stirring, like I am now, and Mr. Daniel came in behind me.”

  “And you had your back to the door, as you do now.”

  “I did. He near scared me to death.”

  “Which door did he come in by?”

  “The same one you did, I reckon, but I didn’t see him come in.”

  “So he might have come in from the garden, and you wouldn’t have known the difference.”

  “No, sir, I suppose I wouldn’t have. Though I don’t see how that signifies.” She looked into her bowl, considering. “He could have been in the garden. I have to say he doesn’t much go out there anymore, either. Not since he was a little fellow and kept rabbits.”

  “What did he want that day?”

  “Bless him, he’d been up in his room doing his studies and wanted something to tide him over until tea. I told him tea wasn’t that far off, but he wheedled some cake from me before time. You were a boy once, sir, and not too very long ago, I’d wager. You know how hard it is keeping the young ones filled up. Then Mr. Meadows came in to fetch him about his father.”

  “What did Meadows say to him? Did he tell him his father was dead?”

  “Oh, no, sir. Just said the missus wanted him to come up to her sitting room. That was all he said, and that’s what Mr. Daniel did. Us belowstairs didn’t hear what had happened to Mr. Montford until after.”

  “I see. And where can I find Meadows now? Mrs. Montford is a bit upset at the moment, but she said you’d know where to find him.”

  “I’ll just go and fetch him for you, sir.” She set the bowl on the table and began to struggle to her feet, but Drew stopped her and stood up himself.

  “Don’t trouble yourself. If you’ll just direct me to where he is, I’ll see to things from there.”

  “I believe he’s up in the master’s bedroom with Mr. Carstairs, he was the master’s valet. They’re packing up his clothes. The missus, she didn’t want him to at first, but now she’s resigned to it, poor lady.” She took up the bowl and then set it down again. “There’s not something wrong, is there, sir?”

  “Nothing to worry over. Just sorting a few things out.”

  “You did say you weren’t with the police?”

  “That’s right. I’m just making some inquiries. You must have heard that Mr. Montford was not the only one killed as he was. We’ll all sleep better for finding out who’s been doing these murders and why, don’t you think?”

  She gave him a nod and a weak smile.

  “Now, if you’ll just direct me to Mr. Montford’s bedroom . . .”

  “Madam said you wished to speak to me, sir.”

  Drew smiled at the portly man standing in the doorway.

  “Ah, you must be Mr. Meadows.”

  “Yes, sir. May I help in any way?”

  Drew sat down again and gestured toward the chair on the opposite side of the table. After a brief hesitation, the butler also sat.

  “Mrs. Wheaton and I were just talking about when Mr. Montford was killed. Do you remember much about that day?”

  “Certainly, sir. It’s not a day that we in this house are likely to forget.”

  “Tell me what happened when Mrs. Montford found out about her husband.”

  “Two gentlemen from the police came to tell her and then left. She rang for me from Mr. Daniel’s room all in a state. I called for Lily, her maid, and got her to go lie down for a bit until I could find him.”

  “And did you find him?”

  “He was down here, sir, eating cake and talking to Cook. I sent him straight up to his mother.”

  “Do you know where he’d been before that?”

  “No, sir. His own man, Pole, looks after Mr. Daniel as a rule, so I don’t generally know what his schedule is unless it affects the household. Mrs. Montford had given me to understand that he was in his room studying that day.”

  “I see. And did you happen to see him or speak to him at all? Before you came to fetch him, I mean.”
/>   “No, sir. As I said, I didn’t generally—”

  “I thought I told you to stay out of things.”

  Drew turned to see Daniel Montford in the doorway that led out to the garden, eyes blazing and hands balled into fists. It wasn’t a pleasant way to begin a conversation.

  Drew stood up once again. “Your mother was gracious enough to allow me to speak to the staff for a moment. I hope it hasn’t caused you any inconvenience.”

  “Inconvenience?” Daniel cursed at him. “I told you if you didn’t leave us alone, I’d kill you.”

  Mrs. Wheaton leaped to her feet, quivering and wadding her apron in her hands. “Mr. Daniel, Mr. Daniel . . .”

  “No cause for alarm. I’ve finished.” Drew winked at her and picked up his hat. “If you’ll excuse me, Mr. Montford, I’ll see myself out.”

  Daniel stepped back, ostensibly to let him pass through to the garden, but just as Drew stepped onto the narrow brick path, the young man stopped him. Drew turned, glanced at the hand on his arm, and gave Montford a cool smile. “This is such a pleasant garden. We wouldn’t want to have it mussed up, now, would we?”

  “For the last time, Farthering, leave us alone and keep your nose out of our business.”

  Still smiling, Drew shrugged free of his grasp and put on his hat. “Please say farewell for me to your mother.”

  Montford raised his fist and then found the motion of his arm abruptly halted.

  “That would be ill-advised, young man.”

  “Ah, Chief Inspector Birdsong, and you’ve brought along a London officer.” Drew’s smile broadened. “Who says the police are never available when needed?”

  “We came to have a chat with young Mr. Montford here.”

  Montford jerked his wrist out of Birdsong’s hand with another curse, and the chief inspector shook his head in reproof.

  “Temper, temper.”

  “This man is trespassing.” Montford’s voice was petulant, and Drew wouldn’t have been surprised to see him stamp his foot. “I want him removed immediately.”

  “Oh, dear. Is that right, Mr. Farthering? Have you entered private property without invitation?”

  “Merely a misunderstanding, Chief Inspector.” Drew removed his hat once again. “I’m sure Mr. Montford here was unaware that I was asked in by the charming lady of the house.”

  Montford’s face grew red. “He’s been annoying my mother ever since my father was killed, and I want you lot to do something about it. I’ll file a complaint if need be.”

  “Daniel!” Mrs. Montford squeezed through past a distraught Mrs. Wheaton and took her son’s arm. “Daniel, this has got to stop this instant.”

  “Good afternoon, madam.” Birdsong removed his rumpled hat, then nudged the plainclothesman with him who then removed his own.

  Mrs. Montford managed a gracious nod. “I’m so sorry, Inspector. As you can imagine, things have been quite difficult since my husband passed away.”

  “Yes, madam, I can understand that.”

  Daniel Montford drew himself up stiffly. “Mother, I want you to go into the house. I’ll see to this.”

  “No, Daniel, I want you to go into the house.”

  “Mother, I—”

  “I’m afraid I can’t allow that just at the moment, madam.” Birdsong cleared his throat. “Mr. Montford, I’ll have to ask you to come along with us now.”

  Daniel made a squawk of protest, and his mother clung more tightly to his arm.

  “Why?” she demanded. “Are you arresting him?”

  “Don’t upset yourself, madam. We only want to ask him a few questions. Making sure we have all our facts in proper order.”

  “Couldn’t you do that here?”

  “This way is best. We’ll be able to sort everything out without any distractions.”

  Mrs. Montford lifted her chin. “Do you have some new development about my husband’s murder?”

  “Your son was seen in Winchester that day. He was seen at lunchtime at a restaurant round the corner from the Empire Hotel, just before Mr. Montford was killed. And a cabman remembers later picking him up at the corner of Jewry and St. George’s, driving him about and then taking him back to the train station.”

  Birdsong drew the young man away from his mother.

  Daniel could only shake his head, his eyes wide and frantic. “It’s not what you think. Mother, you can’t let them do this. I haven’t done anything wrong.”

  “You told me you were in your room. You said you were there all day.” Mrs. Montford started trembling, and Drew caught her elbow to steady her.

  “Please, come inside, ma’am,” Drew murmured. “The chief inspector will see to things.”

  She drew herself up straighter and patted her face with the lace handkerchief from her sleeve. “No, I’m all right. Daniel, you go with them and tell them everything. Whatever it is, you tell them.” She caught his hand, pulled him close and kissed his cheek, then stepped back. “Go along now.”

  “If you have a family solicitor, madam, you may wish to send him round to the station.”

  She gave the chief inspector an almost imperceptible nod. “Thank you, I will.”

  By then the sergeant had the boy halfway down the walk, and with one more pleading look at his mother, Daniel disappeared around the side of the house.

  Birdsong cleared his throat. “Very sorry to have upset you, madam. We hope to have an explanation for everything and your son back to you as quickly as is possible.”

  Staring into the empty air where her son had been, she again nodded.

  Birdsong put his hat back on and then touched the brim of it. “Good afternoon, madam. Mr. Farthering.”

  “Come inside, madam,” Mrs. Wheaton blubbered once the chief inspector had gone. “Come inside and sit down.”

  “That’s a fine idea,” Drew said, taking the lady’s elbow again and guiding her toward the kitchen door. But before they reached it, she stopped and looked up at him, her brown eyes welling with tears.

  “Mrs. Montford, if there’s anything I can—”

  Her palm cracked across his mouth, surprising in its force, and then she wilted against him.

  “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

  The words tumbled out of her unchecked, barely audible. Then she pushed away from him and groped blindly toward the door and Mrs. Wheaton.

  “Oh, madam . . .”

  Supporting each other, the two women went inside.

  “Will there be anything else, sir?” Meadows asked Drew, maintaining a professional air.

  Drew smiled faintly as he wiped the back of his hand across his stinging lips. “Just tell Mrs. Montford that I’m going to go see Mr. Russ and, hopefully, take him to the chief inspector’s office. I doubt they’ll let me in on the questioning, but I’ll do what I can to find out what’s happening with Daniel. As soon as I know something, I’ll ring up or come by.”

  Meadows bowed. “Thank you, sir. I’m sure Mrs. Montford would want to know.”

  Drew put on his hat. “I surely hope so.”

  Twelve

  Charles Russ stopped at the door to the interrogation room and turned to Drew. “Would you like to come in with me? When Mrs. Montford rang me up to ask me to represent her son, she said you were acting on her behalf and were to have whatever cooperation I could give.”

  “I don’t suppose she mentioned that Daniel and I haven’t exactly hit it off.”

  “She did, as a matter of fact.” Russ smiled, and his thin, mustached face lost a bit of its hawkishness. “Never you mind that. I was in partnership with his father long enough to know young Daniel can be a bit of a hothead, but I can handle him. His father spoke highly of you, you know, and I wouldn’t mind having an extra set of eyes and ears in on our side.”

  “I was thinking I’d just wait for you and see what you found out, but I’d much rather hear it firsthand. But you’re the solicitor. I’ll just do my best not to antagonize anyone.”

  “Very good. Now w
e’ll see what’s what.”

  At Russ’s knock, a man in a dark suit opened the door and showed them inside. Birdsong and Daniel Montford were seated at a large table, which was the only furniture in the small, grim room.

  “Ah, Detective Farthering, come in.” Birdsong indicated the man in the dark suit. “This is Sergeant McRae. I presume this is the solicitor we’ve been hearing so much about.”

  Russ shook Birdsong’s hand. “I’m Charles Russ of Whyland, Montford, Clifton and Russ. I’ll be representing Mr. Montford.”

  Daniel’s eyes flashed. “I told them I didn’t have to say anything unless you were present. And what’s he doing here?”

  Despite his glare, Drew merely nodded and sat down.

  Russ sat down, as well. “Your mother wants him here, Daniel, and so do I. Do try and behave yourself. Now, Inspector, what are the exact charges against my client?”

  “It’s a bit premature for charges, Mr. Russ. As I told Mrs. Montford earlier this afternoon, we merely want to sort things out. No need for any unpleasantness, provided of course our questions are answered to our satisfaction.”

  “I see. And just what questions do you have in hand?”

  Birdsong consulted his notes. “When we spoke to her after her husband was murdered, Mrs. Montford said her son hadn’t left home the day of his father’s death, and Daniel here confirmed that. Now we have evidence that he was just round the corner from the scene of the murder, and that’s before and after the established time of death, and we’d like to know why he didn’t mention that to us in the first place.”

  Daniel shook his head. “I told you—”

  But Russ quickly lifted his hand to silence him. “How reliable is your evidence, Inspector? Perhaps your witness saw someone who only looked like Mr. Montford here.”

  “He was identified by a waiter at Le Jardin d’Idylle Restaurant at half past twelve that day, and by a cab driver at the corner of Jewry and St. George’s Street at a little after two. The driver claims he seemed agitated at the time. It’s rather unlikely that both would be mistaken. So, Mr. Montford, I would like to ask you again. Where were you on the afternoon of your father’s murder?”