Death at the Wedding Feast jr-14

by Deryn Lake

  Tobias Miller cleared his throat.

  ‘Ladies and gentlemen, good evening to you all and I thank you for coming to hear the resolution of the mystery. First let me say that the two killers, one Herman Cushen and his assistant — an unknown thug alas — have escaped custody and are still free. Reward posters have been printed and circulated but so far with little response. But the minds behind the hiring of the assassins have been identified.’

  ‘Well who, jolly well, was it?’ demanded Sir Clovelly, nibbling a savoury with much relish.

  ‘It was a heinous crime because it was the Earl of St Austell’s elder grandson and heir, Viscount Falmouth.’

  John interrupted. ‘I think I must say in the poor creature’s defence that he was probably put up to the idea by a scheming woman.’

  ‘That’s as may be, but it is still a terrible thing to commit patricide,’ answered Felicity, while affable Mr Perkins said, ‘Hear, hear.’

  ‘Whatever your views, with which I heartily concur, I would like to ask Mr Rawlings to tell us how he got on to it. How he solved the crime.’

  John stood up, wishing he had something less ephemeral to say to them.

  ‘It was a combination of things really. First of all Felicity told me the strange story of the couple she had seen from the cliff top. They were walking on the beach, a man and a woman, and the woman’s scarf was blowing up in the wind. Some time later I went down to the beach and found a piece of black veiling snagged on a rock. It had obviously been torn from the garment that the woman had worn. I felt fairly certain that it belonged to Miranda. It set me thinking,’ John continued. ‘In the first instance I felt she was marrying the elderly Earl for the money and position. But quite honestly it never occurred to me that she wanted it all. That she wanted a young and attractive lover into the bargain.’

  ‘I suppose,’ said Miss Meakin reflectively, ‘that she and the Viscount must have met and fallen in love and the plot must have grown out of their relationship. But why kill my poor brother? What had he done wrong?’

  Tobias Miller spoke up. ‘I have thought and thought about the murder of him and Mrs James, and do you know I think that their deaths were accidental.’

  There was a stunned silence. ‘What do you mean?’ somebody asked.

  ‘That to cover up the fact that they had one target and one target alone, the assassins shot a few people at random.’

  ‘I concur with that,’ said Sir Clovelly from the depths of his chair. ‘I heard one of the killers mutter to the other not to shoot me. I suppose they must have known me from somewhere.’

  ‘I agree they were firing at random,’ put in John. ‘They aimed at me all right, but I played dead and the bullet whistled past my ear.’

  The volatile Miss Meakin burst into tears and Geoffrey James lent her his handkerchief.

  ‘I too lost someone dear. My wife. She was a gossip and a fiercesome flirt, but she could be good company when she chose.’

  John looked at him, relieved beyond measure that he had cured the poor man of his terrible problem and that his flatulence was now under control.

  ‘But what about the attempt to poison me?’ asked Felicity. ‘Why did they do that?’

  The Apothecary replied. ‘Did you tell your mother about the couple you saw on the beach?’

  ‘Yes, I did.’

  ‘Then I can only presume that Miranda overheard you and decided she must silence you. How she got hold of the Water Hemlock I do not know. She presumably went out one evening before her midnight tryst and gathered some. It is the easiest poison in the world to use. It grows everywhere and it is just a question of recognizing it. When you pull it up its root is almost identical to a parsnip. Which is where I found four of them, mixed with the vegetables in the kitchens of Sidmouth House.’

  ‘But Mama could have eaten some! Or the servants!’

  ‘I can only think by that time Miranda had become a little crazed.’

  ‘If she was not crazed from the start,’ said Elizabeth. ‘I thought she was just a gushing little fool but I did not realize that that act hid a scheming and devious personality.’

  ‘But she was my cousin,’ poor Felicity cried out miserably.

  Nobody answered, but Mr Perkins put his arm round her and comforted her in such a cheerful way that everybody felt much better for seeing them.

  ‘May I refill anyone’s glass?’ asked Tobias Miller.

  There was a general chorus of affirmative replies, during which Sir Clovelly beckoned John to his side.

  ‘There’s one thing I can’t understand, and that is the attitude of Maurice. I always thought of him as a regular chap, a goodhearted soul. Can you throw any light on it? Do you think it was him who watched you in the darkness of your garden?’

  John shook his head. ‘More probably George. He seemed to be the one to do the dirty work. As for Maurice, he always struck me as something of a cipher, a nonentity. I think that deep-down he would have been quite happy studying his books but then that state of mind came upon him which compelled him — like all mankind — to go to any lengths to achieve his objective. In other words, he fell in love.’

  ‘Ah ha, cherchez la femme, eh?’

  ‘Precisely, cherchez la femme.’

  ‘Even to the extent of killing his own grandfather?’

  ‘Yes. But what an evil creature the Earl was. Corrupt, dissolute, depraved. Miranda probably incited Maurice by describing St Austell’s sexual proclivities.’

  ‘Perish the thought. And what about that handkerchief you found in Wildtor Grange?’

  John shook his head. ‘I don’t know. It seemed to me that it bore theatrical make-up of some kind.’

  But there was no time for further conversation because Toby was clearing his throat importantly.

  ‘There is one additional mystery of which I am about to tell you. If anyone can throw light on it I would appreciate it if you spoke up. It’s just that on the night of the cliff fall which killed the Earl and the Countess, Mr Rawlings said there was somebody following him. And that is not all. A shot was fired over his head and into the cliff face thus causing the fatal occurrence. Now, do any of you know who this might have been?’

  There was a stunned silence as — other than for Elizabeth — this was the first that anyone had heard of such a thing. Toby looked from face to face.

  ‘I see that it means nothing to any of you. And I take it you can all account for yourselves on that evening? To remind you, it was the night before the bodies were washed up. Mr James?’

  ‘I was with friends and we played cards till midnight. They can vouch for me.’

  ‘Miss Meakin?’

  ‘I was at home with poor Alan’s widow and babe. Besides, Clyst St Agnes is quite a good way away from Lady Sidmouth’s house. I would not risk prowling about at night on my own.’

  ‘I can speak for Felicity and myself. I sat beside her bed all night, occasionally dozing. But the slightest sound would have awakened me.’

  Mr Perkins flushed crimson and announced, ‘I’m afraid that I was alone so nobody can verify my story. But I can assure you that the last thing I would have contemplated would be wandering along the cliff top in the late evening. I could have tripped and fallen below, you see.’

  John spoke up. ‘I am sure, Toby, that it was nothing more than a common poacher. I think he fired at the cliffs to put me off the scent.’

  Tobias was silent for a long moment, then said, ‘What you are saying makes total sense, of course. But still there is a question in my mind.’

  John adopted his sincere look. ‘Well, that’s your line of business, Constable. To question everything.’

  ‘Yes, I suppose you are right.’ He turned to his assembled guests. ‘And that, ladies and gentlemen, concludes my business. May you all have a safe journey home. And to those of you that live in Exeter I hope to see you again soon. On a purely social occasion, let me hasten to assure you.’

  They all trooped out into the night and waited while
carriages and chairs were sent for. Tobias drew John to one side.

  ‘Lady Imogen is well.’

  ‘You have seen her?

  ‘Yes, I tracked them down. She is a happily married woman.’

  ‘Thank God for that,’ said John, and really meant every word he said.

  The first carriages arrived and the guests parted company, all as merry as if they had been at a wedding feast and thankful that the whole wretched affair could finally be put behind them.

  However, later that night, it being about nine of the clock, John slipped out of the house and took a carriage to Sidmouth House where, fortunately, he caught Milady just preparing to go upstairs to her bedroom.

  ‘Madam, I apologize for calling so late and so unexpectedly, but tomorrow I leave for London and I have something to give to you before I go.’

  Lady Sidmouth peered at him. ‘Oh, and what might that be?’

  ‘This.’

  And the Apothecary fished from his pocket a dried-out handkerchief which he handed to her. It was the one he had retrieved covered with tears and red dust and thrown into a basin of water, the one he had taken from Miranda. She looked at it.

  ‘I am afraid I don’t quite understand.’

  ‘Miranda gave it me. Well, not exactly gave. I lent her one of my own and she passed me this one in its place. I thought you might like to have it.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because she was your ward and your cousin.’

  ‘Miranda has thankfully gone to her grave and has slipped into my memory. I want nothing further to remind me of her.’

  ‘I understand,’ John answered.

  ‘Do you?’

  ‘Perfectly. Do you ever walk on the cliffs in the evening?’

  She caught his eye, hers heavy lidded and secretive, his bright blue, and they regarded one another silently for a moment or two. ‘Sometimes,’ she said eventually.

  ‘Then you will know how dangerous it is to stroll on the tiny beach below.’

  ‘I would never dream of going there,’ she said. ‘You see there could be a rockfall at any time.’

  ‘The slightest noise could trigger one off,’ said John, still staring at her.

  ‘Indeed it could.’ She sighed and stood up. ‘And now, Mr Rawlings, you will have to forgive me. I really am very tired and I was on my way to bed when you called.’

  She turned and threw the handkerchief on to the fire and John watched as the St Austell insignia went up in flames.

  ‘Goodbye,’ said Lady Sidmouth, but whether she was talking to him or to Miranda he was never afterwards sure.

  ‘Goodnight, Madam,’ he answered, and bowed his way out.

  The last piece of the puzzle had just slipped into place. The Apothecary closed his eyes and let the carriage take him home.

  Thirty

  He rose early the next morning and went to say farewell to his twin sons. Jasper and James smiled and made happy sounds as he walked into the nursery and it came home to him in all its bitterness how evil a crime it was for a grandson to strike down his own grandparent. For that which had given life to be struck down by the very life it had helped to create. At that moment the Apothecary felt that he was tasting a bitter gall and had to hold back tears, not only for himself but for all who had been so terribly affected by the deaths at the wedding feast.

  His trunk had been taken to the carriage as day broke and now there was nothing left for him to do but say goodbye to Elizabeth. But she slept deeply, as heavily as if she had been drugged, and did not stir when he kissed her and murmured his parting words. A madness came upon him then and he walked away from her, down the stairs and out of the front door with never a backward glance. And it wasn’t until he was on the flying coach fast bound for London that he realized he had treated her as badly as Maurice Beauvoir had his grandfather, the Earl of St Austell.

  A mood of terrible introspection came upon him then, and did not leave him until he was dropped at the Gloucester Coffee House and felt the cobbles of the capital beneath his feet once more. There some of his confidence returned and he decided that somehow he would be able to persuade Elizabeth to give up their boys for at least part of the year. For despite all his adventures and all his passion for investigating criminal misdeeds, John Rawlings was at heart a family man who liked nothing better than having his children around him in a comfortable dwelling.

  His house at Number Two, Nassau Street was quiet when he entered it and he called out, ‘Is anybody home?’

  In answer he heard a door upstairs open, and looking up he saw a young lady descending at a dignified pace to greet him. He could not believe his eyes. The school had certainly done all that was required of it. His daughter Rose had an elegance and grace he would not have believed possible. Then her eyes widened and she spoilt the illusion by jumping the last few stairs and straight into his arms.

  ‘Pappy, oh my dear Papa. You have come back at last.’

  ‘Back to my own best girl.’ He paused. ‘Why are you not at school?’

  ‘I am on holiday, Sir, and Grandfather and I thought we would come to town to pursue cultural events.’

  John’s spirits were rising by the minute.

  ‘And where is the redoubtable gentleman?’

  ‘Here, my son, here.’

  And with a snatch of powder and a whiff of scent that most famous of all the beaux in London came slowly into the hall from the library.

  ‘Damme, but it’s good to see you, John.’

  ‘And damn me, Sir, if it isn’t good to be back.’

  And with that the trio kissed one another and made their way into the garden.

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