02 - Murder at Dareswick Hall

by Margaret Addison

  But before she could think about it all any further, the door opened, a constable appeared and Hallam was called for interview.

  Chapter Eighteen

  ‘Ah, Lane, back already? I thought it would take a while for you to get the son and bring him back with you.’ Deacon got up reluctantly from the sofa.

  ‘I decided to send one of the constables to get him, sir. I thought it would be better if I got myself positioned, so to speak. You know, seated in that chair behind the settee so he hardly knows I’m there taking notes of everything he says. I’ll just blend into the background, become part of the wallpaper. It does mean, though, that I didn’t get a look at the guests. Not that I would have recognised any of them as they’re bound to be toffs.’

  ‘Well, you’re here now, Sergeant, so better get seated and let’s put your theory into practice. Because, unless I am very much mistaken, I hear his footsteps approaching now, along with those of that constable you sent to fetch him.’

  Deacon’s first impression of the Honourable Hallam Atherton was how very young he looked. His second impression was that the boy was clearly scared. The inspector looked up and caught his sergeant’s eye; good, Lane was obviously of the same opinion, which was somewhat strengthened by Hallam’s refusal to sit down. Instead the young man began pacing the room, his manner restive. The inspector noticed that he clenched and unclenched his hands as if he did not know what to do with them, and every now and then he passed his fingers through his hair as if they were a comb. The boy was clearly agitated about something.

  ‘She had nothing to do with it, you know.’

  ‘Who didn’t?’ Deacon asked, at once interested.

  ‘Josephine, of course, my sister. She had absolutely nothing to do with Sneddon’s death.’

  ‘I’m not aware that I had suggested she had,’ Deacon replied, speaking slowly. The boy scowled at him, a red blush spreading across his face. He went to bite his nails and then thought better of it.

  ‘Yes, but you were about to. Cedric said you were bound to suspect her because she disappeared on the same night that Sneddon was murdered. But she couldn’t have done it, do you hear me? Josephine wouldn’t hurt a fly.’

  ‘I’m glad to hear it,’ the inspector said, gently. ‘And if what you say is true, then she has nothing to be afraid of.’

  At once the boy looked relieved. He stopped his pacing and flung himself down inelegantly on the sofa. ‘I thought you’d decide it must be her and not investigate properly.’

  ‘That’s not how we operate, sir,’ answered Lane from where he was sitting behind the sofa, clearly offended. Hallam jumped involuntarily as if unaware of Lane’s presence in the room.

  ‘I’m glad to hear it,’ the boy said, turning around to face Lane. ‘Of course, I appreciate it looks a bit odd, but I think Josephine’s just taken herself away for a few days.’

  ‘So you don’t think she’s eloped with Brimshaw?’ Deacon asked, trying hard to hide his surprise.

  ‘Of course not, the idea’s preposterous.’ Hallam turned his attention back to the inspector. ‘My sister would never consider eloping with a servant. I’m afraid you are barking up the wrong tree there, inspector.’

  ‘Indeed, and yet she is not here, is she, sir? You don’t find it a little strange that your sister should choose both this weekend and at such an unearthly hour to decide to up and leave. She must have felt something was very important not to wait until morning. So she left in the dead of night with no explanation and has not returned to explain herself. You have guests staying here this weekend, don’t you? Would she usually disappear in the middle of entertaining? Is it the way she normally behaves?’

  ‘Of course not.’ Hallam frowned and glared at the carpet. ‘She’s a jolly good hostess, everyone says so.’

  ‘And yet she has gone, and you don’t think she’s eloped with the chauffeur. Don’t you think that would be the logical explanation for her disappearance?’

  ‘No…yes…I don’t know, you’re confusing me.’ The boy looked close to tears. ‘I don’t think she would elope with Brimshaw, no,’ he said slowly, as if he was trying to work it out for himself as he said the words. ‘I know she would never have killed Sneddon. And, God forbid, if she had she would have stayed and faced the music, not run away. But if you are asking me where she is or why she felt the need to vanish as she has then I’m afraid I don’t know.’ He looked up at the inspector, clearly anxious. ‘You think she’s all right, don’t you? You don’t think anything’s happened to her?’

  ‘No, I’m sure she’s fine. We’ll find her, don’t you worry. Now, first things first, did you know Lord Sneddon was coming to stay here this weekend.’

  ‘No, I jolly well didn’t’.’ The boy now sounded indignant. ‘I’d jolly well have prevented it, if I’d known he was coming down, I can tell you. But Isabella was very cloak and dagger about it all. She wouldn’t let on who she was bringing down with her. Why, we didn’t even know if it was going to be a man or a woman. Josephine was in quite a state about it. She didn’t know which bedroom to ask Mrs Hodges to get ready.’

  ‘I see. So your sister Josephine didn’t know either?’

  ‘That’s what I’ve just said. She had no idea and it was all jolly inconvenient, I can tell you. Not made any easier by them arriving so late. At one point we thought we were going to have to start dinner without them. But that’s just like Isabella. She can be awfully inconsiderate at times.’

  ‘So, just so we are absolutely clear, neither you nor your sister, Josephine, had any idea that Lord Sneddon would be coming to stay at Dareswick this weekend?’

  No, only….’ Hallam hesitated and looked at his hands.

  ‘Only what?’ Deacon prompted him.

  ‘Oh, it’s probably nothing.’

  ‘I’ll be the judge of that if you don’t mind. Only what?’

  ‘Well, Josephine was awfully keen to know who Isabella was bringing down with her. I was curious too, of course, because she was being jolly secretive about it. But Josephine really wanted to know. She kept pestering me about it, wouldn’t leave off. It was driving me to distraction, I can tell you.’

  ‘Do you think she may have had an inkling it would be Lord Sneddon?’

  ‘No, I don’t think so, Inspector. I suppose you know already that there was a time when she and Sneddon were rather sweet on each other. Father was imagining wedding bells and all that. But it didn’t come to anything. No doubt the servants have filled you in on that awful business with the little maid. Anyway, I was very anxious when Sneddon appeared. I was afraid it would be an awful shock for Josephine, and of course it was. She went very pale and looked as if she was about to faint.’

  ‘I see.’ Deacon looked thoughtful.

  ‘The funny thing is, Inspector, that when my father went and gave that awful toast, you know, wishing the happy couple all the best and all that, well I could have sworn that Josephine looked relieved. Doesn’t make sense, does it, not if she was still fond of the blighter?’

  ‘It wouldn’t appear to, no,’ agreed Deacon.

  ‘Even so, it was awfully thoughtless of Isabella to spring it on us like that. If she hadn’t got Sneddon to speak to Father before dinner and ask his permission for Isabella’s hand in marriage, well then I think he’d have been out on his ear.’

  ‘I understand you didn’t take Lord Sneddon’s appearance on the scene that well,’ said Deacon, carefully.

  ‘You bet I didn’t,’ Hallam said, his voice rising. ‘I wanted to give him what for, I can tell you. How the man had the nerve to show his face here after what he’d done, I don’t know. And Father expected us just to sit there and pretend that nothing was wrong, that he would be a welcome addition to our family. While all the time I just wanted to ….’ He banged his fist on to the sofa cushion.

  ‘Yes? What did you want to do, Mr Atherton?’

  ‘Nothing,’ Hallam mumbled. He got up from the sofa, hovered for a moment uncertainly, and then lowered himself back
down again, defeated. ‘Sorry, I got a bit carried away.’

  ‘Did you kill Lord Sneddon, Mr Atherton?’

  ‘No, of course I didn’t. How can you suspect such a thing? I was jolly annoyed with the chap, of course, who wouldn’t be in my position? But I didn’t murder him.’

  Deacon found that he felt pity towards the young man. He watched as Hallam sat squirming in his seat, his eyes averted. He feels he’s made a bit of a fool of himself, thought the inspector, and of course he has. But more importantly for us, he has shown that he can work himself up and then who knows what he may be capable of? Yes, he’s highly strung, that lad. Aloud, as much to change the subject and encourage Hallam to talk as anything else, he said:

  ‘We are trying to determine Lord Sneddon’s movements on the night that he died, or it might have been in the early hours of this morning. And we need to know the movements of everyone else, of course; just routine, you understand. When did you last see Lord Sneddon?’

  ‘Well, it was last night, of course. Let me see, about half past ten I would imagine. Cedric and I decided to call it a night and go up to bed early. We left Sneddon deep in conversation with my father. To tell you the truth, it had been an awful evening and I couldn’t wait for it to be over. We’d had a jolly nice day wandering over to the village. Sneddon had disappeared off to London so we didn’t have to worry about him being there to spoil things. But then he came back. He cut it a bit sharp, almost missed dinner again. Anyway, it was awful. No one felt inclined to talk. Only Father put a brave face on everything. Everyone else was miserable, even Isabella. I was trying to be on my best behaviour, you know, not saying anything. Father had put the fear of God in me that morning, said if I did anything to try and stop Isabella from marrying the fellow he’d disinherit me and all that.’

  ‘I see. And that was the last time you saw Lord Sneddon?’

  ‘It was. I feel jolly rotten now, to tell the truth. If I’d realised at the time he only had a couple more hours on this earth I daresay I’d have been a bit nicer to him.’

  ‘Right, now who’s this Cedric chap? You’ve mentioned him a couple of times. Is he one of the guests staying here?’

  ‘Yes, Cedric, or Ceddie as his sister Lavinia will call him.’ Hallam laughed, unaware that both the inspector and sergeant had looked up sharply on hearing this. ‘I still want to keep calling him Lord Sedgwick, but he’s come into the earldom now. He’s the Earl of Belvedere.’ This time Hallam caught the exchange of glances between inspector and sergeant. ‘I say, do you know him, have you come across Cedric before?’

  ‘We have indeed, sir, a couple of months or so ago. Our paths crossed when we were investigating an incident at Ashgrove House.’

  ‘Oh, were you the police chappies who looked into all that?’ Hallam asked, excitedly. ‘Jolly good. Cedric spoke very highly of you, you know.’ With that Hallam bounded to the door looking relieved but also anxious to be gone.

  ‘Just a moment, Mr Atherton, before you go. Can you tell us please who else is staying here? Have you any other guests staying apart from the Lord Belvedere?’

  ‘Oh yes, Miss Simpson. Miss Rose Simpson. She’s…. oh, but of course you already know her, don’t you, because she was at Ashgrove as well, wasn’t she?’

  Chapter Nineteen

  ‘Well, well, well, Lane, what do you make of that?’ Deacon moved over to the fireplace and looked into the fire. It seemed to him that one could never tell what the weather would do this time of year, it was so changeable. Sometimes it was hot and sunny almost like a summer’s day as it had been yesterday, and at other times, like today, it had an almost wintry feel to it, even though it was only part way through autumn.

  ‘It will be jolly nice, sir, seeing Miss Simpson again. A nice young lady she is and very helpful she was too in helping us solve that case at Ashgrove. I expect she can tell us a thing or two about what’s been going on here.’

  ‘I don’t doubt it, Sergeant,’ agreed Deacon, a smile creeping across his face. ‘But actually I was referring to the Honourable Hallam Atherton. What did you make of him?’

  ‘A nervy type I would say, sir, you know, highly strung. I could well imagine him lashing out at Lord Sneddon after working himself up into a bit of a fit of temper and then being racked by remorse afterwards.’

  ‘I agree with you, Lane. He’s just the sort of chap who would act first and think later. He seems pretty close to his sisters; his oldest one, at least. As soon as he came into the room, he kept going on and on about how Josephine Atherton couldn’t have killed Sneddon, even before we’d had a chance to say anything to suggest that we were of the view that she might have done.’

  ‘Yes, strange that. I suppose he just wanted to get his pennyworth in first,’ Lane replied, putting away his notebook and pencil and taking the opportunity to stretch his legs. ‘He admitted himself that it looked rather suspicious her vanishing like that in the middle of the night without so much as a by your leave.’

  ‘I was wondering myself whether “the man doth protest too much” to misquote the great Bard.’

  ‘I’m sorry, sir, I don’t think I quite follow,’ A look of utter confusion had appeared on Lane’s face.

  ‘Shakespeare, Sergeant. The actual line is: “The lady doth protest too much, methinks”. It comes from the play, Hamlet. By vehemently trying to convince us that Josephine had nothing to do with Sneddon’s murder, I wonder if our Mr Hallam is in fact afraid that the opposite is true.’

  ‘You mean he thinks his sister did do it?’

  ‘I think the thought has crossed his mind and that he may be trying to convince himself as much as us that she can’t possibly have done it.’

  ‘Inspector Deacon, jolly good to see you again, although I would have preferred for it to have been under different circumstances,’ Cedric said, coming into the study and extending his hand to the inspector. Deacon on his part was slightly taken aback by the gesture, but nevertheless shook the new earl’s hand warmly. ‘Had rather hoped that murder was not going to cross my path again, I can tell you,’ Cedric continued, seating himself down on the sofa, ‘but jolly glad it’s you and Sergeant Lane here who’ll be undertaking the investigation. A nasty business this, what? No love lost between me and Sneddon as you well know, but I wouldn’t have wished this fate on him, poor blighter.’

  ‘Yes, it’s most unfortunate, my lord. As you will appreciate, we’re anxious to clear up this business as soon as possible. We have the advantage this time of having met the victim and knowing the sort of man he was.’

  ‘Yes, indeed, Inspector. A man who’d have made a number of enemies, I’d imagine. Can’t say I envy your task in trying to find out who murdered him.’

  ‘We’re pretty certain that Lord Sneddon was murdered by someone in this house.’

  ‘Good Lord, what makes you think that?’ Cedric almost leapt from his seat. ‘Surely it’s more likely that someone followed him down from London? No doubt Sneddon arranged some dubious assignation in the library and let the man in by the French windows.’

  ‘Highly unlikely, my lord. The butler informed us that the French windows in the library had seized up some time ago and won’t open now. And we didn’t just take his word for it, of course. My men have tried to open them and failed to do so.’

  ‘Well, perhaps the murderer came in by some other door or window. You’ve seen how many doors and windows this house has. The servants probably forgot to lock a couple.’

  ‘The butler has assured me that he is always very thorough in ensuring that the house is secured for the night and that last night was no exception,’ said the inspector firmly. ‘Baron Atherton is most particular about it, I understand. Has a bit of a bee in his bonnet about it so the butler told us. He is most insistent that all the doors and windows are locked by seven thirty sharp and Crabtree and one of the footman undertake the task together so that they can double check that it’s done properly.’

  ‘I see.’ Cedric had turned pale. ‘But why are you tell
ing me this, Inspector? Surely it would be better for you to keep such information to yourself, at least for the time being.’

  ‘Because the temptation for everyone in this house is to assume, or try and convince themselves, that the murderer was someone from outside. Lane and I will be made to hear no end of stories of how it must have been a burglary gone wrong or the work of a passing tramp. But the evidence speaks for itself. It must have been someone in this house. You know the Athertons and the servants in this house well, my lord. They’ll trust you and believe what you tell them. They need to be told the truth and made to face up to the facts. They need to be persuaded to help us with our enquiries, not hinder them. It doesn’t much help that Lord Sneddon was universally so disliked.’

  ‘I see.’ Cedric held his head in his hand for a moment and then looked up. ‘So you think one of the Athertons killed him?’

  ‘Either that or one of their servants, yes,’ confirmed Deacon.

  ‘What about me? I could have killed him, you know. I despised the fellow.’

  Deacon chose not to comment directly on this statement. It was obvious that the young earl was badly affected by what he had just been told. Far better to concentrate on facts.

  ‘Did you know that Isabella Atherton would be bringing Lord Sneddon down with her to Dareswick this weekend?’

  ‘No, of course not. Otherwise Rose and I would never have come. The Athertons are old friends of my family. My father and the baron went back a long way. Lavinia and I practically grew up with Josephine, Isabella and Hallam. I’ve always loved this place, that it’s so remote, in the middle of nowhere. We used to run almost wild here as children, it was our Utopia, our escape from everything. I thought it would be the perfect place to come for the weekend. God knows, after what I’ve been through the last couple of months, I needed some respite.’