For one, Mrs. Crosby had mentioned Alphonse Ash rarely spent time in the main house, which meant he’d be out of place there and people would’ve definitely noticed his presence.
Secondly, even if he had ventured into the house that day, him being able to get up to the third floor unseen—given the stairs were off the very busy kitchen area—was doubtful at best. And he didn’t seem particularly close with any of the other staff, certainly not enough for them to help him cover up the murder of one of their own.
Unfortunately, her conversation with Davis only served to leave her with more questions than answers, but at least she could now rule out Lord Wakefield as a suspect. He’d been with his mistress, not at Farnsworth. She’d let Detective Gibson know about Davis and have him check out both the driver’s alibi and Lord Wakefield’s location that night, but it seemed that was one thing she could tick off her list.
“Will you be staying for lunch, madam?” Duffy asked, breaking Hazel out of her musings.
“Oh.” She gazed at their menu tacked to the wall near the door and saw they had a special watercress salad that day. She did so love a good watercress salad. Her stomach rumbled, and Hazel smiled. “Actually, I think I will. Return for me in an hour, please.”
“Yes, madam.” Duffy tipped his hat and disappeared back around the corner while Hazel headed inside.
The interior was small, with exposed wood and a clean, shiny pine floor. A large stone fireplace crackled in one corner, and against the opposite wall was a carved wooden bar with an assortment of spirits and wines lining shelves on the wall behind it.
The place had been one of her Charles’s favorite haunts, and she spotted several of the other local bobbies in one corner near the front of the restaurant. Thankfully, though, no Inspector Gibson. She had enough to deal with today without him too. Her eyes adjusted to the dimmer light, and she spotted Lady Wakefield and Eugenia at a small table across the room.
“Good day, madam,” the waitress said. “One today?”
“Yes, please.” She followed the woman to a corner table, straining to hear the conversation as she passed close by the Wakefields’ table.
“…borrow that lovely black sable stole you just bought,” Eugenia said to her mother.
“I’m sorry, my dear, but that’s quite impossible,” Lady Wakefield said. “I’m afraid it was damaged in storage.”
“What?” Eugenia frowned, still pale but looking a tad livelier than she had the previous morning. “But I thought you had Mrs. Crosby take all the furs out of storage days ago. That stole was brand new. I hope you’re going to…”
“Here we are, madam.” The waitress held Hazel’s chair for her then handed her a menu. “I’ll be back to take your order.”
As she perused the selections, Hazel couldn’t help connecting the snippets of the exchange she’d overheard between the Wakefield ladies with what she already knew. Doris had reportedly been planning a trip up north. Now those two were discussing fur coats. Had Doris been going north with Eugenia and not her lover?
If Eugenia wanted to borrow her mother’s stole, perhaps she was still planning on heading north, despite Doris’s demise. Mrs. Crosby had mentioned seeing Thomas at the train station as well that day. Could her brother be planning to leave with her? The twins were exceptionally close, after all. And it would get him out of the sticky situation with the Tewkesbury girl too. Hazel had originally assumed the trip would have been cancelled after Doris’s death, but perhaps not.
She glanced at them over the top of her menu, only to see them watching her and waving. Soon, Lady Wakefield and Eugenia were at Hazel’s side.
“Ah, Mrs. Martin. We meet again,” Lady Wakefield said. “Such a lovely day outside.”
“Yes, it is.” Hazel smiled. “What are you both doing today? Are you planning a trip?”
“Oh, no,” Eugenia said, her response a bit too quick. “Nothing like that.”
“Something much more mundane, I fear,” Lady Wakefield said. “With winter coming, it’s time to get the rest of my furs out of storage. I had Mrs. Crosby get some of them about a week ago, so I decided to get the rest of them myself today. A trip does sound nice, though. Maybe once we put all this dreadful business with Doris behind us we can plan an excursion.” She stroked her daughter’s hair and frowned. “That might help my Eugenia to return to good health. She’s so delicate these days, and I’m hoping to make a good match for her with the Earl of Whitborough, if he takes an interest in her. Which won’t happen if she’s not feeling her best.”
Eugenia gave her mother an irritated look that Hazel didn’t miss.
It seemed she wasn’t interested in this earl in the least.
So both twins were unhappy with their arranged matches.
Lady Wakefield continued, apparently unaware of her daughter’s glare. “As I said, I’m just worried about the scandal surrounding the death and its investigation, both on the family name and on my children’s marriage prospects. I sincerely hope it will all blow over before my daughter’s reputation is ruined.”
“Well, I’m sure things will work out in the end. They always do.” Hazel smiled at the waitress who’d re-appeared at her side then ordered her salad and a pot of tea.
“We’ll let you get back to your lunch then, Mrs. Martin,” Eugenia said, tugging her mother’s arm. “Have a lovely afternoon.”
“Yes.” Lady Wakefield pulled free from her daughter’s hold. “We still need to discuss that acknowledgement in your next book. Shall we set up an appointment to do that now?”
Much as Hazel wanted to visit Farnsworth again, she didn’t want to do so under Lady Wakefield’s watchful eye. “Unfortunately, I’m so busy with deadlines for my publisher over the next few days, I’ll need to check my calendar before I commit to anything. May I ring you once I get home?”
“Certainly.” Lady Wakefield smiled, apparently satisfied for now. “I look forward to it.”
“Me too.” The ladies said their goodbyes and headed back to their table, leaving Hazel alone at last. She waited until they’d left the restaurant before she sat back and released her pent-up breath.
As she stirred sugar into her tea, Hazel couldn’t help dwelling on Eugenia’s reaction to her mother’s news about the earl. Most women would be excited at the prospect of marrying into old money. And the earl, while bookish, wasn’t awful looking either. He would’ve made a good match for a girl like Eugenia.
Then she remembered the girl’s nervous answer when Hazel had inquired about a trip. Between the news that Alphonse had run off right before Doris’s death and now Eugenia acting secretly about the supposed trip up north with her brother, it certainly made Thomas look guiltier of pushing poor Doris, that was for sure.
Chapter Thirteen
Later that afternoon, Hazel was back in the kitchen at Hastings Manor, helping Alice and Maggie bake strawberry jam tarts. Lots and lots of tarts.
“Why so many?” Hazel asked as she slid yet another baking sheet full of them into the oven. “There’s enough here to feed the entire Royal Air Force.”
Alice shrugged and set the timer. “Well, madam, I’m just being prepared, in case you need an excuse to visit Inspector Gibson again soon. What with your snooping and all.”
Hazel shook her head, both at the comment and the fact her once feline-wary cook had now set out a bowl of cream for Dickens just inside the kitchen doorway. The cat was hunched over it, lapping away. Hazel bit back a smile, nodded toward the dish, and raised a brow. “Looks like you two have become quite close.”
“Nonsense.” Alice huffed. “I just know that bowl of cream keeps him occupied and out of my way in the kitchen. It’s common sense, that’s all. As my mother always said, you catch more flies with honey.”
“Right.” Hazel took a seat at the table to wait for the tarts to finish baking, and her thoughts once more turned to her investigation. “My ‘snooping,’ as you called it, turned out to be quite productive today. I had an interesting conversation w
ith the Wakefields’ interim chauffeur before lunch behind the restaurant.”
Alice tsked as she wiped down the counters. “You, hanging out behind restaurants, putting yourself in danger. What would Mr. Charles have said about that?”
“Well, considering he enjoyed me helping him on cases, I’d think he’d be proud of me,” Hazel replied, stretching out her legs. She’d worn a new pair of burgundy satin flat shoes to match the maroon flowers on her white cotton day dress, but the wretched things weren’t exactly comfy, and now her feet were sore. “Besides, Duffy was by my side the whole time, as promised. I was completely and perfectly safe.”
“Really, madam?” Maggie sat beside her at the table, wiping her flour-covered hands on the front of her apron. “Did this new driver say what happened to Alphonse?”
“Seems he left the day Doris died. No one knows why or where he went.”
“Sounds fishy to me,” Alice said, hands on hips. “Like he wanted to run away from something.”
“Or someone.” Hazel toyed with a saltshaker sitting on the table. “I saw Eugenia and Lady Wakefield when I went inside for lunch too. Eugenia seemed unusually nervous when I asked her about them going on a trip.”
“Do you think that argument between Thomas and Alphonse had anything to do with his leaving?” Alice asked. “Maybe Thomas threatened him.”
“I wondered the same thing.” Hazel squinted at the crystal shaker while the cook bustled about, removing a batch of cooled tarts from their tray and putting them into a nice basket. Maggie stood to help. “I also considered the possibility that the twins were still planning to take the trip north anyway, even without Doris. Lady Wakefield seems dead set on getting them married off as soon as possible whether they like their potential spouses or not.”
“Hmm.” Alice harrumphed. “Begging your pardon, madam, but you higher classes are a strange lot. Never works well when you marry for money and not love. I know that’s the way it’s always been done, but that don’t make it right.” She double-checked the timer then took a seat on the other side of Hazel. “Wouldn’t blame those two if they did run away. Still doesn’t explain poor Doris, though.”
“Are you still thinking this surrounding her death all has to do with the baby then, madam?” Maggie asked. “Though we still don’t know who was the father.”
“I think it had something to do with the pregnancy, yes. A crime of passion seems most likely at this point,” Hazel said. “My money is currently on the chauffeur. Thomas was seen in a tête-à-tête with Doris, and he argued with Alphonse. Maybe she was having Thomas’s baby, so Doris broke things off with the chauffeur. I mean who wouldn’t choose the son of a lord over a member of staff?”
“True,” Alice said, crossing her arms. “But I wouldn’t write off Lord Wakefield just yet either. He could’ve pushed that poor maid just as easily as some jilted lover. Or it could’ve been someone else we haven’t even identified yet.”
“Alphonse couldn’t have killed Doris, unless his leaving was some elaborate ruse and he came back to push her over. But even then, his appearance in the house would’ve caused a stir, since he was in there so infrequently. Though in an odd way, I suppose that makes perfect sense, because it gives Alphonse an alibi. But I’m not sure jealousy is a strong enough motive to kill Doris. And I learned today that it couldn’t have been Lord Wakefield either. The temporary chauffeur told me he was across town at Mrs. Pommel’s house on Grove Street at the time of the murder. Drove the lord there himself. So, really, that just leaves Thomas.”
Alice tsked. “He was such a nice young boy too.”
“That explains why Lady Wakefield lied about being in her sewing room and able to see Lord Wakefield in his study. She likely didn’t want the scandal about him and Mrs. Pommel getting out,” Hazel said. She grabbed a notebook and pencil from a nearby drawer and sketched out a rough layout of Farnsworth Abbey. “Here’s my sticking point with that theory, though.” She pointed to locations on her crude map as she spoke. “Mrs. Crosby was here in the dining room when she heard Doris’s scream. Betsy stated she was in the library at the time of the fall. Mrs. Crosby’s statement corroborates Betsy’s alibi because she said she saw Betsy run past the dining room doorway from the direction of the library and she then followed the maid upstairs to the third floor. There’s no other way to get to that turret room except through the back stairs that lead up from the kitchen. Mrs. Crosby also stated she passed Lady Wakefield coming down the stairs as she was going up. Lady Wakefield said she’d already been to the turret room and was descending the stairs as she and Betsy ran toward the third floor. Everyone else was already in the turret room when they got upstairs or were down on the ground below where poor Doris landed. Mrs. Crosby said Thomas arrived on the third floor right behind her.”
“Huh.” Alice frowned, staring at Hazel’s map. “Well, if that’s true, then it couldn’t really be Thomas either, could it? I mean there’s no way he’d have been able to push Doris, get downstairs, then get back up to the turret room that fast, and he’d have passed some of the staff on the way, right?”
“Was there another escape route from the turret room that no one’s found yet?” Maggie asked.
“No, there isn’t another way down. I checked the last time I was at the estate.” Hazel scowled, going over all the known facts in her head again. “And the killer couldn’t have taken the same stairs from the kitchen without being seen. It had to be someone who wasn’t in the turret room or on the ground floor afterward who pushed Doris, because there’s only one place on the third floor to hide. Whoever killed Doris must have concealed themselves in the attic.”
“Well, then.” Alice crossed her arms. “If that’s the case, then it very well could’ve been Alphonse Ash. Perhaps he only pretended to leave the morning before then hid out in that attic, waiting for his chance. He wouldn’t have been seen in the room or on the ground floor since he’d already left. And no one would notice him missing because no one would’ve expected him there to begin with.”
“Or it could have been someone we’ve not yet suspected.” Hazel straightened as realization dawned. “Thomas and Lady Wakefield were both seen on the stairs. Eugenia was in the house, but I was told she stayed in her room the whole time. But maybe she didn’t. Maybe she pushed Doris. It would’ve taken some elaborate planning on her part and perfect timing, but it could have been done. She would’ve had to go through the kitchen when it was empty and sneak into the attic to wait until everyone had left the turret room afterward and still somehow manage to be downstairs in her own room again before she was discovered. It could be done, I suppose.”
The more she thought about it, though, the less it made sense, especially given Eugenia’s current health conditions. The poor girl didn’t look strong enough to lift a fork, let alone push another person off a roof. She pursed her lips. “But she’s been very ill lately, which would’ve slowed her reflexes, and given the fact the family’s quarters are on the other side of that massive house and Eugenia’s frail physical state, it doesn’t seem likely.”
The ladies stared at Hazel’s drawing in silence for a moment, pondering.
“Wait a minute,” Alice said, snapping her fingers and smiling. “You said Lord Wakefield was at Grove Street according to that interim chauffeur, but what if the lord doubled back after he was dropped off and used Grove Street as his alibi?”
“Then why would he lie to the police and about being at his club?” Hazel countered.
“He might’ve had to say that if the Old Bill asked him his whereabouts in front of Lady Wakefield, but he wouldn’t use the club as an alibi because it’s full of people he knew. Someone would notice if he left. That house on Grove Street only contains one person—Mrs. Pommel. It’s a lot easier to get one person to lie for you versus a whole room of them.”
“True.” Hazel sighed. “But we still need to establish a better motive for the killer. Was Doris murdered to keep her quiet or because of a lovers’ quarrel?”
> “The maid Betsy said she heard an argument between Doris and another person in Lord Wakefield’s study, right, madam?” Maggie said. “Maybe that’s our clue.”
“Possibly. It happened a week before the murder, so Alphonse would’ve still been employed at Farnsworth and present at the estate. But I can’t imagine it would’ve been him and Doris fighting in Lord Wakefield’s study. How would two servants alone get into that wing, especially one who rarely visited the house to begin with, without Betsy, or anyone else, noticing? And it couldn’t have been the lord and Doris arguing either, since the chauffeur today also told me that Lord Wakefield has a standing appointment at his club every other Thursday and he’d taken him that night too instead of Alphonse, so Lord Wakefield wasn’t there at the time of the fight.”
“Could it have been Doris and Thomas then, in the study?” Maggie asked.
“That would make sense, madam,” Alice added. “Especially since you mentioned Doris using the words ‘not paid off.’” The cook frowned. “Except why would Thomas want to buy Doris off if he was planning to run away with her and his child?”
“Good question.” Hazel pushed to her feet. “I wonder if that argument had anything to do with Alphonse’s abrupt disappearance.”
“Could be, madam.” Alice turned and grabbed the basket of tarts then shoved it into Hazel’s hands. “Sounds like that missing chauffeur might just be the key. And since he’s gone and we don’t have the proper resources here at Hastings Manor to find and question him, seems you need to make another visit to Inspector Gibson’s flat. See? I told you all these tarts would come in handy.”
Chapter Fourteen
An hour later, on her way to the front door, Shrewsbury stopped Hazel.
“Pardon me, madam,” he said, blocking her path. He stood a good foot taller than her, but she’d never found his height imposing, though she supposed it could be under the right circumstances. He held her coat for her once more while she slipped her arms into the sleeves. “But I couldn’t help overhearing part of your conversation with Alice.”
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