by Joan Smith
“I’ll send Mrs. Bates home in my carriage. A pleasure to have made your acquaintance, Lord Belami. I wish we might have met under happier circumstances, but you’ll soon be a part of our happy little family, eh? I look forward to calling on you in London,” Nevil said.
Belami shook his hand and replied with little enthusiasm and no sincerity, “I look forward to it, Sir Nevil.”
Even with a death in the family, some meals were called for, and as soon as Nevil left, the duchess went off to arrange a snack with her servants. When they were alone, Belami went to sit beside Deirdre on the sofa.
“What did you think of Nevil?” Deirdre asked him.
“If he’s guilty, he certainly didn’t tip his hand. I kept my ears stretched, but every word was right. He didn’t say anything to reveal that he knew arsenic was used. He didn’t know Mrs. Haskell had left, and, according to what he said, the will hadn’t recently been changed in his favor.”
“I thought his having bought an expensive Bath chair pretty well cleared him. He wouldn’t have bought it and brought it all the way here if he knew Uncle was already dead. He could have got something smaller and easier to carry, with the same result of showing us he thought Uncle was still alive.”
“Your aunt found it surprising that Nevil came here before going to the Grange.”
“He always does call on us while he’s visiting Uncle, but not usually on the first day. He has to pass the Grange to get here, you see, and since it’s the Grange he’s visiting, he stops there first. It’s only common sense to stop and have his luggage unloaded, and so on.”
“Especially when the luggage includes a Bath chair,” Belami said, rubbing his chin. “But what does he gain by coming here first? He might have thought there would be police there and wanted to learn first what was known and suspected. If that was his aim, he certainly succeeded. He now knows as much as we do.”
“Oh, I hope this is all a dreadful mistake, that there was no poison in anything, and we can just bury Uncle Dudley and have done with it. It’s so horrid, living like this, suspecting everyone. I suppose you’re having a marvelous time,” she said to Belami.
“No, I won’t have a marvelous time till we’re out of here and on our way to Italy,” Belami replied, grasping her fingers. “We must begin planting the notion in Charney’s head that a few weeks are long enough to wait for the wedding. It must be a quiet do now, for propriety’s sake. Would it be too utterly uncivilized to discuss the wedding with the minister while we’re making the funeral arrangements? Yes, I can see that it would.”
Deirdre shook her head at such an outrageous idea, but she wasn’t totally displeased by his eagerness. “I’d prefer not to have the remains of the funeral feast served at my wedding breakfast.”
“Speaking of food, do you suppose Charney plans to feed us at all? I haven’t had a bite all day.”
They were soon called to the table, where Dick was delighted to see that the food was of a sort that didn’t require sauce. It was impossible to destroy cold mutton and cheese, and the apple tart was more than edible. He felt much better after eating. It was three-thirty when they sat down to lunch, and four on the dot when they arose. At five after four, there was another knock on the front door, and Constable Straus was admitted.
Even if they hadn’t recognized the man’s loud voice and country accent, the trepidation of the floor might have identified the caller. Straus had the ponderous step of an elephant. He looked decidedly out of place in the duchess’s genteel saloon. His waistcoat appeared even more gaudy against the fading elegance of threadbare carpets and listless draperies. He managed to get a step ahead of the butler and announced himself. It wasn’t lack of knowing better that caused this, but a desire to see the duchess’s face before she had been warned of his arrival.
His coming had all the effect he had hoped for. She looked stricken when he made his dramatic pause in the doorway and said in dolorous accents, “I have a spot of bad news for you, folks. The old gent was done in. Murder in the first degree.”
Chapter 5
It would be hard to say which of Mr. Straus’s auditors was the most upset to hear his verdict, but his attention was trained on the duchess, and certainly her expression alone was enough to convict her. He was half afraid she was going to drop dead of fright and have to be interred alongside of her brother. Deirdre went to her aunt’s side and put an arm around her shoulder. She had never done such a thing in her life before, but the eyes that turned to her, gleaming out of that white, strained face, held a mute appeal. They called up some emotion she hadn’t known she felt for her aunt. It might have been loyalty or even love. Whatever it was, it took a fierce hold on her. The duchess’s reaction to the motion was also strange. She put out her hand and held Deirdre’s fingers in a crippling grip. Nothing was said. They didn’t even look at each other again, but an understanding was born that whatever befell, they were in it together.
Belami was the first to find his voice. “What exactly did you discover, Mr. Straus?” he asked.
Straus strode across the floor and took up a seat. He looked all around the room before speaking. “Arsenic, as we both suggested, milord. The old gentleman’s insides held enough of it to kill an army."
“What contained it, the brandy or—or the food?” Belami asked, darting a glance at the duchess. She was beginning to recover, but she still looked dreadful. He hoped to convey that she shouldn’t deny having taken the stew to Dudley.
“It wasn’t in the brandy,” Straus replied.
“I should think it would be hard, if not impossible, to be certain about that. What method of testing did you use?” Belami asked.
“Oh, I don’t do that sort of thing myself. The coroner did it. The stomach was full of arsenic, but there was none at all in the brandy bottle on the sideboard. As you know, the glass he used had fallen and was empty, but the dregs didn’t show any traces.”
Belami hastily considered this. He dreaded to give voice to his next question. Before it should be necessary, Straus continued. “So that leaves us with the stew he ate. It was taken to the Grange by you, I believe?” he asked, turning a sapient eye to the duchess.
She looked at Belami, then at Deirdre. For a second, she did war with herself. It wasn’t a matter of conscience. She would have denied it in a flash if she’d thought she could get away with it, but there were too many witnesses.
“Yes, I took it over myself last night,” she replied. “It was certainly not laced with arsenic when I left the house. We had the same thing for dinner. As you will see, sir, we are all still alive and well.”
“You don’t look all that well to me, madam,” Straus said boldly. “And what did you do with the stuff when you arrived?”
“I gave it to the servant, Anna Wilkey. She had instructions to heat it up and give it to Lord Dudley for dinner. I cannot believe Miss Wilkey intentionally murdered her employer.”
Straus narrowed his eyes at her, glanced at Belami, and resumed his speech. “No more can I. There’s not a drop of arsenic in that kitchen, nor in the stable, nor anywhere else on the premises so far as I can make out. Furthermore, she’d have no reason in the world for killing him. It’s done her out of her position. Well, now, we’re faced with a bit of a puzzle. Somewhere between your kitchen and Lord Dudley’s table a dose of arsenic landed in his stew. An odd thing, surely. Most unlikely,” he added meaningfully. “Would you have any arsenic around the place at all, your grace?”
“No, I would not,” her grace answered. Her spirit was willing, but it was also weak. She couldn’t quite summon the energy to rip into Straus as she felt she should.
“Would you mind if I just had a look about?” Straus persisted.
“Do you have a search warrant, Mr. Straus?” Belami inquired.
“No, sir, I didn’t bother to pick one up. I figured there was more than enough time for the poison to have been got rid of. Still, I find it interesting that you folks don’t care to let me have a look around.”
‘‘No one has denied you permission to look around,’’ Belami pointed out. “I merely asked whether you have a search warrant. It seems to me you’re attempting to make bricks without straw here, Straus. Who’s to say the poison was in the stew? There was bread and butter on the table as well. There were saltcellars and pepper, and who knows what else he ate before coming to the table?”
Mr. Straus began massaging his chin with his sausage-like fingers. As he hadn’t shaved that day, a soft, grating sound ensued. “All those items you mentioned have been tested. The reason I suspect the stew in particular is that the bowl that contained it was removed between my first visit and my second. I left instructions that nothing was to be touched. Nothing else was, but that bowl of stew was stolen away. A little white-and-green bowl it was. It’s not at the Grange. I had a close look around for it. The girls there couldn’t tell me a thing about it.”
“No more can we,” Deirdre said, trying for an air of nonchalance.
“Ah, well, it’s no matter really. I managed to get hold of the bowl. It was in your kitchen, your grace: I’d be willing to swear an affeydavey ‘tis the same one. The little chip on the rim, and the fine, hair crack are convincing evidence, I’d say."
Belami felt a reeling in his head, that the duchess should have acted so unwisely and in such a guilty manner, but he knew his duty and said, “I’m afraid you’re exceeding your authority, Mr. Straus. To be conducting a search without proper . . ."
Mr. Straus smiled benignly. “I didn’t come down in the last rain, milord. There was no search conducted. I went to the kitchen and mentioned to your cook that I hadn’t found time for lunch. She was baking up a batch of cakes and was kind enough to offer me a slice. I just slid a bowl under it to hold the crumbs while I ate, and it was the same, identical piece of crockery or my name ain’t Gerhard Straus. The question is, why would anyone go trotting over there in the cold to carry home a chipped bowl if it didn’t have some importance?”
“Our cook is very conscientious. She always counts the silver and crockery,” Deirdre said, lifting her chin and trying to sound a deal more self-assured than she felt.
“Aye, I’ve heard how things are run hereabouts,” Straus answered, his tone ironic, “but it’s a great pity you were in such an almighty hurry to have that chipped bowl carried home and washed out so thoroughly. It was the only chance you had of proving the poison wasn’t in your stew, you see." He could no longer control his face. A broad smile beamed forth at the conclusion of this telling speech.
The duchess was silent. She managed to cast a haughty glance at Mr. Straus, but speech was beyond her. It was for Belami to rush to her defense. His intimates would have known by the lift of his black brow that he was in a troublesome mood. “By the same token, she’s made it impossible for you to prove the poison was in the stew, n'est-ce pas?”
“I don’t talk the bongjaw myself, thank you. English is good enough for a simple man like me. What we have on our hands here, milord, is a case that calls for logic, you see."
“It will be a pleasant change to hear some well-reasoned arguing,” Belami answered, smiling politely. But he knew as well as he knew anything that there was no fault in Straus’s reasoning thus far. It looked very much as though the duchess had slipped that white arsenic from her vase to the stew. Every new fact that came out confirmed it. It was only instinct that caused him to reject the notion. And really the instinct was just a reflection cast by the duchess’s niece.
“I’d have to agree with you there," Straus answered with equal politesse. “I’ve heard demmed little logic since coming through that door.” He pointed a stubby finger at the doorway as he spoke, then returned his attention to his audience. "However, the situation’s far from desperate. Thanks to his lordship here, we can still have the tests done on the stew and find out whether it held arsenic or no."
“How is that possible?” the duchess asked—too quickly, too sharply, with much too much guilt and worry. Belami glared at her and found her glaring back.
“Did he not tell you, your grace?” Straus asked, feigning surprise. “Why, this lad, so bright—his reputation preceded him all the way to Banting—he had the foresight to take up a sample of your stew. I’d like to have it, milord. I’ve no doubt at all that an experienced man like you knows that withholding evidence is against the law. No search warrant is necessary.”
“I don’t have it,” Belami answered at once.
“I thought you might not. Well, it’s no matter. I’ll just have the post watched, and when you get your answer back from Mr. James Marsh at the Woolwich Arsenal, I’ll have that confiscated instead, then we’ll all know. It shouldn’t be too long. I took the liberty of having your Frenchie followed when he left here. When I wrote to Mr. Marsh myself mentioning that he was to consider that material as evidence in a criminal case, I asked him to hurry it up. Not that I’m suggesting you meant to send your Frenchie flying off to Woolwich and bring the results back on the sly. I’m sure you wouldn’t be the sort of a lad to try a foolish stunt like that. No, indeed, from what I’ve heard of Lord Belami, he’s up to all the rigs.”
Belami was accustomed to thinking of himself as rather clever at solving criminal puzzles, but as he looked at Mr. Straus, he realized he still had a few tricks to learn. Not only clever but swift as well. He hadn’t wasted much time getting down to the post office. Had the circumstances been less desperate, he would have been happy to learn from Straus. For a long moment he literally couldn’t think of a word to say. Neither could anyone, apparently, for a silence grew and stretched to uncomfortable proportions. It was Deirdre who broke it.
“Was there anything else, Mr. Straus? If not, I believe my aunt would like to rest now. I’m sure you can appreciate it’s been an exhausting day for her.”
“It has, and it’ll get worse before it gets better, as the saying goes. Always does. I’m off, then. I have to take a run back to the Grange and have another word with the servants.” He arose and made a bow to the duchess. “G’day to you, your grace,” he said, and began walking toward the door. The ornaments on tables and mantelpiece rattled as he moved. Deirdre and Belami accompanied him. “I hear in town that Sir Nevil Ryder’s landed in. Would I be likely to catch him at the Grange?”
“He said he was going there,” Deirdre answered.
“He stopped by here then, did he?”
“Yes, at about three this afternoon.”
“Has he been to town, or how did you know he was in the neighborhood?” Belami asked. Both the Grange and Fernvale were west of Banting. Sir Nevil had come from the west.
“Oh, he made a stop at the inn around two. On his way from London, I expect. I’ll say oh reevoir, not good-bye. I do tackle the odd word of bongjaw when I find myself in high company that appreciates it, you see.” He laughed merrily, rammed his curled beaver on his head, and picked up his greatcoat.
Belami held the door for him and closed it behind him without saying good-bye. He leaned against the door and drew a deep breath. He felt as if he’d just managed to get out of a tiger’s cage by the skin of his teeth. He could hardly believe the man had left without arresting her grace, but his relief wasn’t long-lasting. Straus had left such a plethora of trouble behind that he hardly knew where to begin.
“Dick,” Deirdre said, frowning, “Nevil didn’t come from London. He came from Bath. If he was at the inn in Banting at two, he went right by our house and the Grange and didn’t stop. He didn’t get here till about three, just before we had lunch. Now what do you suppose he’s up to?”
“I have no idea, but at the moment, Nevil’s doings are the least of our problems. What ever possessed Charney to pilfer that bowl from Dudley’s table?”
Deirdre was besieged by as many doubts and fears as Dick. She was tired, and she was frightened—all her emotions at the moment were negative ones. When she answered, her voice was sharp. “Who says she did? I don’t understand why everyone’s so ready to jump on Auntie as the culprit.”<
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“We’re not left with a whole lot of alternatives, Deirdre. Of course she had the bowl taken, and why would she do that if the stew hadn’t been laced with arsenic? You could tell to look at her tonight that she was scared to death. I’m really beginning to think she did her brother in. It’s incredible, but what else can a sane person think?” Belami demanded.
The duchess banged her foot on the floor, which was an endearing habit she was using lately to summon her niece.
Deirdre made a tsking sound of annoyance, whether for the summons or his remark, Belami was uncertain. When she went to the saloon, he accompanied her. The duchess felt stronger once that horrible, vulgar constable was gone. In fact, she felt stout enough to turn her ire on her protector, Lord Belami.
“What’s this story Straus was giving us, Master Jackanapes?” she inquired. “Am I to understand that you’ve violated the hospitality of my home by collecting evidence against me? You’ve sent off a sample of my food to be analyzed by a total stranger without my permission?”
Belami could scarcely believe his ears. He had made himself appear an idiot for the old lady’s sake, and she had the temerity to speak to him as though he were an unruly boy. Deirdre looked at Belami, fully expecting to see his eyebrow rise in preparation of a setdown. What she saw instead was a face of blank astonishment. The lifting of the brow was an affectation, pure and simple. When he was really angry, he didn’t think to do it. She watched with a sinking heart as a black scowl collected on his brow, and Dick opened his lips to speak.
“No, madam, I didn’t send the sample to a total stranger, but to a friend and colleague. Neither was my aim to incriminate you, but to prove your innocence. Your question leads me inevitably to the conclusion that you are not innocent.”
“Are you calling me a murderess, sir?”
“By God, I’m not a hairsbreadth from it!” he retorted. “Why else did you scamper across the meadow in the dead of night with that bowl of awful stuff? Why did you take the precaution of removing the bowl? Why is the arsenic missing from the house? If you’re not guilty, you’re putting on a performance that convinces me you are, and you’ve convinced Straus as well.”
