Entertaining Death

by Lesley Cookman

‘But,’ said Amy, hastily stepping into the breach, ‘just because Sir Harold’s bed was tidy, it doesn’t mean he was – murdered?’

  ‘It looks, Lady Washington, as if someone had tidied the bedclothes. And why should they do that?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ Amy looked bewildered.

  ‘And then, of course, ladies, I began to think some more.’ Now the eyes were positively twinkling. ‘Now, do you recall there being a cup on the table by Sir Harold’s bed, Lady Washington?’

  Amy wrinkled her brow. ‘No – I – oh! Yes, now you’ve mentioned it, yes, I do. I’d forgotten.’

  ‘Do you remember that I took it up?’

  Amy shook her head. ‘No, I don’t, I’m sorry. My – Mariah took me away very quickly.’

  ‘Yes, of course she did.’ Doctor Hargreaves looked pensively at his hands clasped on top of his cane. ‘Well, I did take it up. And smelled it.’

  ‘Poison?’ gasped Dorinda, horrified.

  ‘No, no, my dear. Although I was wondering at the time what could have caused so sudden a death, but there were no classic signs of poisoning. And there would have been, you know. Forgive me if I do not describe them.’

  ‘Certainly,’ said Dorinda, feeling rather sick. ‘So why did you – er – smell the cup?’

  ‘I have just explained,’ said the doctor, reverting to his testy manner, ‘I was wondering if there was anything – but there wasn’t. I thought no more about it. It was hardly likely that Sir Harold would have developed a sudden aversion to hot milk, overnight, when none had been seen before, was it?’

  ‘But …’ Amy turned a puzzled face to Dorinda. ‘Harry already had an aversion to hot milk. He wouldn’t have it at any price.’

  Chapter Fifteen

  ‘So I have now discovered,’ said Doctor Hargreaves with some satisfaction. ‘I was quite mortified, my dear Lady Washington, to think I should have missed something so obvious last year. But,’ he shook his head, ‘I fear I myself became ill very shortly after Sir Harold’s death, and thought no more about it. I did not even write up my case notes, which I discovered when I went to look for them for the police inspector.’

  ‘But, I beg your pardon for interrupting, Doctor, but what did you miss that was so obvious?’ asked Dorinda. ‘Sir Harold’s dislike of hot milk would not have caused his death, surely?’

  ‘I think I know,’ said Amy. ‘It was it being there in the first place. Harry would never have asked for hot milk. Do you know it was hot, sir?’

  ‘It had been. A skin had formed on the top.’ The doctor nodded. ‘But it was barely cold.’

  ‘So the milk must have been placed there only a little time before he – he was …’ Dorinda glanced quickly at Amy, but she was simply looking interested, and a little scared.

  ‘And Sir Harold had been dead for some time by then.’ The doctor concluded triumphantly.

  Dorinda frowned. ‘So someone took in hot milk – after he died?’

  ‘Why?’ said Amy bluntly.

  ‘To make it look as if he was alive later than he was?’ suggested Dorinda.

  ‘There is another factor,’ said the doctor, obviously now enjoying himself. ‘How much do you know about the milk deliveries in your household, Lady Washington?’

  ‘Nothing.’ Amy was looking bewildered again.

  ‘The Inspector and I have discovered that there would have been no milk in the house until after the delivery had been made early that morning.’

  ‘But it was early in the morning that he was found,’ objected Amy.

  ‘But the milk was made to look as if it had been there since the previous night!’ Light was dawning on Dorinda at last.

  ‘Quite.’ The doctor almost beamed.

  ‘But,’ said Dorinda slowly, ‘you didn’t notice this when Sir Harold died. Surely you would be unable to prove it over a year later.’

  The doctor’s face fell. ‘There would be a degree of – er – difficulty.’

  ‘More than a degree, I should think,’ said Dorinda decisively, and stood up. ‘Why do you think the Inspector suggested you speak to me, sir?’

  Now the doctor was looking bewildered. ‘I really don’t know. I assumed because you – ah – were a friend …’

  ‘Because you’re clever, Dolly.’ Amy slid off the desk. ‘Thank you for coming to see us, Doctor. You’ve given me a lot to think about.’

  The little doctor allowed himself to be seen off the premises, protesting, and Amy turned to Dorinda.

  ‘He was murdered, Dolly. The sisters were right.’ Her face suddenly looked drawn and older. ‘They will always say I did it, and there will be nobody to say I didn’t.’

  ‘Unless the real murderer is found,’ said Dorinda. ‘And I believe the Inspector is looking for that person. Otherwise he wouldn’t have sent the doctor to see us.’

  ‘I still don’t understand why he did that.’ Amy frowned. ‘He could have told you all that when he spoke to you.’

  ‘He could. But I think perhaps …’

  ‘Perhaps what?’

  ‘He might have wanted us to work it out for ourselves.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I’m not sure.’ Dorinda had her own opinion, which she was not prepared to share with Amy until Amy herself had time to think it through. ‘Amy, when did the sisters start their whispering campaign against you?’

  ‘Their what?’

  ‘When did they start spreading the rumour? Was it soon after Sir Harold died?’

  ‘No – not really.’ Amy frowned. ‘Not until a few months ago, I think. That was when Jeremy started coming round again.’

  ‘So someone could have suggested it to them, do you think?’

  ‘But who? I didn’t think anyone ’ated me more than they did. Who would ’ate me enough to do this?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Dorinda. ‘What about the household staff? If someone did kill Sir Harold, it had to be someone who was able to get into the house at night.’

  ‘We didn’t ‘ave a big ‘ousehold staff.’ Amy shook her head. ‘Just cook, Harry’s valet, George, the butler – well, he’s cook’s ‘usband – and a couple of maids. We didn’t need more. If we entertained, and we didn’t really, with society not approving of me, we hired in a couple of footmen. Cook had some ‘elp in the kitchen.’

  ‘Were they all with Sir Harold before you married?’

  ‘Yes – and more besides. Couple of the maids and a footman left when he brought me home. He was furious.’

  ‘Could they have been angry enough to have come back and killed him?’

  ‘Them? Gawd love yer, no! It was over two years ago, now.’ Amy turned to go backstage. ‘I’m going to see what Mariah says. She knew the staff better than I did.’

  Dorinda returned to the office and took off her hat.

  So the sisters had been right, Sir Harold had been murdered. But not by Amy, who had every reason to keep him alive. And as she had said, the sisters themselves would have been more likely to murder Amy than their father. So who else had a motive for killing the old man? As she rested her chin on her hands and gazed into space, her concentration was broken by a knock on the door.

  ‘Could I have a word, miss?’ Mariah’s face, looking unusually pale and worried, peered round the door.

  ‘Yes, come in, Mariah.’ Dorinda sat up straight and gestured to the other chair. ‘Did Amy tell you what happened?’

  ‘She did, miss.’ Mariah gnawed at her bottom lip. ‘And I don’t know what to make of it.’

  This was a different Mariah from the usually aggressive and militant dragon the Alexandrians had got used to.

  ‘Did any of the staff in the London house take a dislike to Amy?’

  ‘No.’ Mariah looked at the floor. ‘They was more like to take a dislike to me.’

  Dorinda raised her eyebrows but said nothing. ‘She’s a nice person,’ Mariah went on, ‘and I know I’m not. But people take advantage of her.’

  Dorinda was surprised. ‘Really? Who?’


  Mariah’s face was turning pink. ‘Oh, all sorts of people. She was always giving the other girls money – in the theatre, that was. Lending, she said, but she never got it back. After Sir Harold, this was. When they all knew he was sweet on her. And she was delicate.’

  In Dorinda’s opinion, Amy was about as delicate as a bull mastiff, but still, she said nothing.

  ‘But what worries me,’ Mariah continued, ‘is what happens when we leave here. We can’t go back to that house.’

  ‘Two things,’ said Dorinda. ‘You don’t have to leave here at least until the end of the season, which is in October, and I don’t see why you shouldn’t go back to the house. The staff have been kept on, surely?’

  ‘Yes – but the talk.’ Mariah was looking distinctly uncomfortable. ‘The staff talk. And it sounds like that Inspector’s been back to the house.’

  ‘Ah, I see. Stirring it all up again.’ Dorinda nodded. ‘But as I said to Amy, I believe the Inspector is actively pursuing the real culprit. I think he will unmask this person, then everyone can go back to being comfortable again. Except perhaps Lady Violet and Lady Willis.’

  ‘What about that Jeremy?’ Mariah seemed determined to bring up obstacles.

  ‘What about him? Amy has told me, as I’m sure she’s told you, she is not going to marry him.’

  ‘Not yet.’ Mariah thinned her lips. ‘He’ll keep asking.’

  ‘And would that be a bad thing?’

  ‘She ain’t – isn’t – cut out for marriage.’ Mariah’s polished tones were slipping now.

  ‘No? I thought every woman was supposed to wish to be married.’

  ‘Do you?’ shot back Mariah.

  Dorinda smiled. ‘No, I must admit I prefer my independence. But Amy isn’t like me.’

  ‘No, she needs looking after.’ Mariah glared at Dorinda. ‘I’ve told you that before.’

  ‘Well, she’s in very good hands here, isn’t she?’ Dorinda stood up. ‘With you at the hotel, and all of us here at The Alexandria. And look what happened last night – she was well-protected then, wasn’t she?’

  ‘I suppose so,’ admitted Mariah grudgingly, also standing. She looked up at Dorinda. ‘We will take care of her, won’t we?’

  Dorinda felt a lump in her throat. ‘We will,’ she managed, and watched Mariah go slowly across the foyer and into the auditorium.

  ‘What was that all about?’ Maude appeared, eyebrows raised. Dorinda shook her head.

  ‘I’ll tell you later,’ she said, and went back into her office.

  Dorinda was unsurprised to see Inspector Colyer in the audience for the evening performance, and her stomach sank. Now she knew what was coming.

  ‘The Inspector’s here,’ Aramantha informed them all during the interval.

  ‘So’s the Honourable Jeremy,’ said Maude coming in from the auditorium.

  Amy paused in the act of going into the dressing room, while Mariah stood holding back the curtain.

  ‘What do they want?’ she asked, looking frightened.

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Dorinda.

  ‘Are you sure?’ Mariah snapped out the words.

  ‘I’m sure,’ sighed Dorinda. ‘The Inspector doesn’t tell me everything, you know. And I don’t know the Honourable Jeremy at all.’

  She went to sit on one of the hampers that stood against the wall and pretended to go through the folder of music she had brought with her. Maude came to sit beside her.

  ‘You do know, don’t you,’ she said in a low voice.

  ‘No, I don’t know,’ said Dorinda.

  ‘You suspect something. I know you.’ Maude gave a decisive nod.

  ‘Maybe. Let’s just get on with the second half.’ Dorinda’s eyes were fixed on the curtain, through which all the girls had now passed. She didn’t move until she’d seen them all come out again, when she sent Maude back to shepherd the audience back to their seats.

  ‘Come along, then, ladies and gentlemen.’ She stood up, smiled, and went back to her seat at the piano. As she had done before, she refused to look into the audience and make eye contact with either Jack Colyer or the Honourable Jeremy, but as her company took their applause at the end, she could not avoid noticing that neither of them were in their seats. Her heart gave a sudden thump, and she stood irresolute, not knowing whether to go backstage or out to her office. The decision was made for her when a prolonged hiss sounded from behind the backstage entrance.

  ‘Dolly! Quick! Come here.’

  She turned and almost stumbled over the piano stool in her haste to get backstage, where all the girls except Amy were gathered around the curtain.

  ‘What is it?’

  Patsy turned frightened eyes to her.

  ‘It’s Mariah! I think she’s gorn off ’er ’ead.’

  There were murmurs of agreement. Dorinda took a deep breath and pulled aside the curtain.

  Mariah knelt in front of Amy, who sat on a chair in front of the dressing table. She caught sight of Dorinda and turned.

  ‘I won’t let her go, you know,’ she said pleasantly. ‘She belongs to me.’

  Amy’s pleading eyes met Dorinda’s over Mariah’s head.

  Dorinda crouched down until she was on a level with Mariah.

  ‘I know, Mariah. I realised that. But you like her being admired on stage, don’t you? You’d let her stay with us for that?’

  Mariah squeezed her eyes shut. ‘I can’t. You bin kind, miss, but we got to go now.’ She stood up so suddenly that Dorinda lost her balance. ‘Now, Amy, get your things. We’re going.’

  Dorinda was aware of a movement behind her company, but didn’t turn to look.

  ‘What about your things, Mariah?’ Dorinda stood up and brushed herself down. Immediately, Mariah stepped forward, tutting.

  ‘See, now, I’ll have to get that out, won’t I? Maude will have to get me that chalk …’ she broke off, remembering.

  ‘I’ll get it, Mariah.’ Maude’s shaky voice came from behind the other girls, and Mariah looked up. It was only then that she, and Dorinda, noticed Ted, Algy and Will moving round behind her. Suddenly, there was a knife in her hand, and all movement stopped.

  ‘Oh, don’t be silly, Mariah.’ Amy’s voice, a little higher than usual, cut through the tension. ‘Come along and help me get ready. I can’t go out like this, can I? Come on, do.’

  Dorinda held her breath as a change came over Mariah. She dropped the knife and turned round to Amy, just as Inspector Colyer appeared and took her by the arm.

  The next few minutes were confused and upsetting. Mariah screamed and struggled, Amy collapsed and the company scattered in disarray. Surprisingly, it was the Honourable Jeremy who restored order, by sweeping in, gathering Amy in his arms and bearing her out of the backstage area like a trophy.

  ‘I’d get changed, everyone,’ said Dorinda in a shaky voice. ‘I expect the police will want to talk to us.’

  ‘I never liked that woman,’ stated Aramantha, predictably. ‘I knew there was something …’

  ‘Did she kill Amy’s old man?’ asked Betty.

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Dorinda. ‘Perhaps. Just get changed, please, girls.’

  Jack Colyer was waiting in her office.

  ‘You’d worked it out, hadn’t you?’ he said, as she came in, pulling off her hat.

  ‘I thought I had.’ She sank down on to her chair. ‘Where is she?’

  ‘Constable Fowler has her in charge.’

  ‘She did kill Sir Harold, then?’

  ‘I’m afraid so.’

  ‘Where is Amy?’

  Jack Colyer’s lips twitched. ‘I gave permission to Jeremy Coutts and his father to convey her back to the Mansion House.’

  ‘His father?’

  ‘The Earl of Hawksley, yes.’

  ‘He …?’ Dorinda shook her head.

  ‘I gather that the Honourable Jeremy has a good line in melodrama. His father was most affected by the whole story.’

  ‘Well, I suppose that’s good. What
has Mariah said – anything?’

  ‘She is very distressed.’ Colyer drew his eyebrows together.

  ‘Was it jealousy?’

  ‘I think so. She and Lady Washington had once been very close, and she assumed, I think, that things would go back to the way things were once Sir Harold was dead.’

  ‘Very – close?’

  ‘I’m sure you know about these things, Dorinda.’ Colyer sat down opposite her, reached out and took her hands. ‘It isn’t only men and women who love one another.’

  ‘No.’ Dorinda felt her colour mounting and tried to pull her hands away. ‘Can you tell me anything else?’

  Colyer smiled and let her go. ‘Tomorrow. I expect your company will want to know, so I’ll call before I return to London.’ He stood up. ‘Sleep well, Dorinda.’

  Chapter Sixteen

  Dorinda gazed out of her office window at the rain lashing down on the grey pavements and turning the slope from Victoria Place into a river. In the auditorium, her company sat waiting, as she was herself, for Inspector Colyer to bring news. Eventually, she was surprised to see Constable Fowler splashing down the slope. Maude let him in and Dorinda met him in the foyer.

  ‘Good morning, miss.’ He removed his helmet and mopped his forehead with a large handkerchief. ‘The Inspector would be pleased if you could accompany me to the hotel. He would like to talk to you.’

  ‘I thought he was coming here?’ Dorinda said.

  ‘I don’t know about that.’ Constable Fowler was stoic and unmoving. ‘If you please, miss?’

  Dorinda looked at Maude, gave a small shrug and went back into her office. Maude followed her in.

  ‘What will I tell the others?’ she asked.

  ‘I’ll be back as soon as I can,’ said Dorinda. ‘Do we have an umbrella anywhere, Maudie?’

  Even with the protection of a very large rusty umbrella, it was a very damp Dorinda who was met by Jack Colyer in the grand entrance hall of the hotel.

  ‘Forgive me,’ he said, taking her arm. ‘I shouldn’t have asked you to come out in this weather.’

  ‘Why did you?’

  ‘I wanted to talk to you away from your bodyguards.’

  ‘Bodyguards? They are my friends,’ snapped Dorinda, pulling away from him. ‘Where are we going?’