‘Well, that would help explain something that I thought rather odd that happened on Friday night.’
‘What was that?’ Deacon was intrigued.
‘It was after the footman had spilt the soup all over Sneddon. There was much ado about it, as you can imagine. The baron demanded that the footman get Lord Sneddon’s valet to see to him straight away. But Sneddon asked for the baron’s valet instead because he said his man wouldn’t be any good at dealing with it. It just seemed to me strange at the time, that’s all.’
‘Interesting,’ agreed the inspector. He thought for a moment as if trying to decide about something and then said; ‘Let me show you something, Rose. A couple of the constables discovered this at the back of Sneddon’s wardrobe while they were making a search of his room.’ He produced an ornate, paisley-patterned man’s handkerchief from his breast pocket and proceeded to unfold it and empty its contents onto the desk revealing various pieces of expensive looking jewellery.
‘Why, it’s my mother’s pearl necklace!’ exclaimed Rose, holding up a string of pearls. ‘I wore them to dinner on the Friday night but I couldn’t find them last night when I was dressing for dinner. I was sure that I had left them on the dressing table and just assumed that the maid had packed them away in my case. I was in a bit of a rush so I didn’t have time to look, and then later I forgot all about it. Oh!’ Her face clouded as an awful thought struck her. ‘Are you saying that Lord Sneddon was rummaging about in my things and stole them? Surely not!’
‘I think it’s much more likely to have been his valet, but he’d certainly have had to have been in on the act. They were found in his wardrobe after all. Do you recognise anything else?’
‘This looks a bit like the gold necklace that Josephine wore at dinner last night, although I wouldn’t swear to it being the same one,’ said Rose, peering closely at the trinkets.
It was on the tip of her tongue to suggest that he ask Josephine to take a look, and then she remembered just in time that Josephine had inexplicably disappeared. Her conscience pricked her. Now that they were sharing information, and the inspector had even gone so far as to call her by her Christian name, it seemed as good a time as any to disclose to him that Josephine knew about her sister being blackmailed; worse, that she had said she would tackle Sneddon on the matter herself. However, Rose told herself, surely if she had done Sneddon would have informed her that he had returned the letters to Isabella’s safekeeping. There would have been no need for her to kill him, although the very thought that she might have done such a thing was preposterous. But it worried her that Sneddon had been found with his back to the door slumped over the desk. It was just possible that Josephine had not bothered to ask him for the letters, had assumed that he would refuse to give them up. If it had not been for the distress of the news of the maid’s death leading him to re-evaluate his life, then Sneddon would surely have laughed in her face and refused to hand the letters over.
How awful, thought Rose, if Josephine had killed Sneddon needlessly. She looked up. Had Deacon met her gaze at that moment, she might have been tempted to tell him her fears. As it was he appeared deeply absorbed in looking at the jewellery, turning each piece over looking for the hallmark.
Further consideration of or discussion on the matter was not possible as they both became aware of a kerfuffle in the hall followed by various sets of men’s footsteps. There appeared to be a scuffle going on, this impression further heightened by the utterance of an oath and a man shouting.
‘That’ll be Lane now with the infamous Mr Ricketts who appears to be kicking up a bit of a fuss. No doubt we’ll speak again, Miss Simpson.’
It seemed to Rose as she left the room, looking with interest as she passed through the hall at the disreputable and restrained figure of Ricketts, that Deacon had given her sufficient food for thought. But something in particular was niggling at the back of her mind. It was only when she was approaching the garden room that she realised what it was. Something told her that there had been another reason for Isabella throwing the letters onto the fire than the one she had given, but she couldn’t for the life of her think what it could be.
Chapter Twenty-five
‘Well, well, Mr Ricketts, do come in. I’ve been rather curious to meet you, I must admit.’ Deacon held open the study door and Lane deposited the man, still struggling, onto the nearest chair.
‘He tried to make a run for it, sir,’ explained the sergeant. ‘He might’ve got away with it too if greed hadn’t got the better of him. He stopped off on the way to go into Lord Sneddon’s room and rummage through his things.’
‘Ah, indeed Ricketts, no doubt you were looking for this.’ Deacon held up the jewellery. The man cursed and spat onto the floor.
‘Really, Sergeant, what is the world coming to?’ enquired the inspector. ‘They certainly don’t make valets like they used to. I’d have expected better manners from one, wouldn’t you?’
‘Particularly one who was valet to the British aristocracy,’ replied Lane, grinning.
‘And what’s that whiff? When did you last have a wash, Ricketts? And that’s a very interesting way to button a waistcoat. It’s new to me, no doubt it must be the latest fashion.’
‘You’ve got nothing on me,’ protested the valet. ‘That stuff weren’t found in my room, were it?’
‘It wasn’t,’ agreed Deacon. ‘But you knew it was in your master’s room because you put it there.’
‘How do you know I did?’ said Ricketts, sullenly. ‘How do you know as he didn’t put it there himself?’
‘Even I don’t think that Sneddon would stoop so low as to actually pilfer himself. No, he’d leave that for you to do. You know the saying, no use having a dog if you’ve got to bark yourself, well, no use having a tealeaf if you’ve got to steal yourself.’
‘Who are you calling a tealeaf? I’m no thief,’ wailed Ricketts.
‘I beg to differ,’ said Deacon, holding up his hand as the man made a move to protest further. ‘Look Ricketts, I’m not interested in your stealing, well, not so far as it has nothing to do with Lord Sneddon’s death that is. Of course, you will be thoroughly searched before you leave these premises. So if you’ve a mind to take anything with you that doesn’t belong to you, think again.’
‘It ain’t got nothing to do with his murder,’ Ricketts replied, scowling at the carpet.
‘I’m glad to hear it, although forgive me if I don’t just take your word for it. Now, listen to me.’ Deacon became serious. ‘We know Sneddon was short of money, what with his gambling and suchlike, and I understand his father’s estate is heavily mortgaged to the bank. So let’s just suppose he decides that the answer to his immediate problems is to marry a rich woman. However, unfortunately for him, despite his good looks and the charming manner he can effect when the mood takes him, his reputation goes before him and there is a severe shortage of suitable women prepared to tie the knot with him. He, on the other hand, is particularly desperate to hurry things along. That’s where you came in, I think. I think the two of you entered into a sort of partnership. You stole to order, jewellery and other such items that could be easily hidden by Sneddon in his room and also material which could be used by him for the purposes of blackmail. Am I right?’
‘Might be,’ the inspector thought he heard the man mumble under his breath. He chose to interpret it as confirmation.
‘Right, now I want you to tell me all about last night. I assume that you had some sort of arrangement whereby you would show Sneddon what items you had taken during the day and he would then hide them in his room?’ There was silence. ‘Come on, man, cooperate, otherwise you might just find this murder pinned on you,’ said the inspector, losing patience and raising his voice. ‘I think we could put a good case together for you two having had a disagreement which got out of hand over how to split your spoils, don’t you, Sergeant?’
‘I do, sir,’ agreed Lane. ‘It would certainly make life easier for us. An open and shut case. W
e could go back to London right now. We might even be home in time for tea.’
‘Alright, alright,’ said Ricketts, admitting defeat. ‘I’d arranged to meet him in the library at one o’clock this morning. We usually met around that time ‘cause all the household are normally in bed by then, even that damned butler who keeps insisting on doing the rounds before he retires for the night.’
‘How did you get out?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘The doors to the servants’ quarters were kept locked at night. Crabtree told us so himself.’
Ricketts made a face. ‘It didn’t take much effort to pick the lock, I can tell you. It was child’s play, that’s what it was. The silly old fool thought he was being so clever.’
‘So what happened last night when you met up with Sneddon?’
‘Well, I found her there, didn’t I? You know, the woman he was all set to marry. Gave me quite a turn it did, seeing her there, because of course I wasn’t expecting to.’
‘And then what happened?’ prompted the inspector.
‘He asked me bold as brass to return her letters to her. You could have knocked me down with a feather.’
‘And?’ said Deacon, impatiently.
‘Well, I went out and got them, of course, and gave them back to her.’
‘That can’t have made you very happy. You must have been annoyed, furious in fact, I would have thought. I take it you had arranged to take a cut of the blackmail proceeds?’
‘As it happens, Lord Sneddon had already paid me for that particular service when I first gave him the letters. But I was a bit miffed, yes, I admit it. I went to a great deal of effort to get those letters. I didn’t know what he was playing at giving them back to her. I weren’t afraid that he’d turned over a new leaf, if that’s what you’re getting at. He needed the money too much for that. Nah, I just thought that he might have been going a bit soft as far as she was concerned. But then it occurred to me that he might have his eyes set on bigger pickings, you know, a richer wife.’
‘You must have been curious, though. Weren’t you tempted to return to the library once Isabella Atherton had left in order to have it out with him?’
‘No, it were late by that time and he told me we would be leaving first thing in the morning, or should I say today. So I thought I’d just wait and speak to him then. It were obvious he had a plan of some sort. He wouldn’t have just upped and left, now would he?’
‘He might have done if he’d had a change of heart about the whole blackmail and stealing business. Now, just one more question. And think carefully, Ricketts, before you answer this one. Was Lord Sneddon blackmailing anyone else in this house besides Miss Atherton? And I would recommend that you tell me the truth. If he was blackmailing someone else then that person would have had a very good motive for wishing him dead.’
Ricketts gave him a sly look and grinned, revealing one or two rotten teeth. Deacon sighed. He could tell at once that the man was not going to play ball. He supposed that it had been a bit of a long shot that Ricketts would tell them the truth. For a man like him, lying was a way of life. The man’s next words confirmed his fears.
‘No, he weren’t blackmailing anyone else.’
‘I suppose you do realise that you yourself may well be in danger? It would be far better for you if you told us who it was and handed over whatever you had on them.
‘I told you already, he weren’t blackmailing anyone else,’ Ricketts said stubbornly.
The inspector threw up his hands in frustration and glanced at his sergeant. They both knew Ricketts was lying, but that they would get no more out of him no matter how long they persisted. The man was playing with fire and Deacon hoped he knew that. But there was very little they could do about it.
With a sigh Deacon let the valet go with a strict warning not to try and leave Dareswick unless he wanted to see the inside of a prison cell, of which the inspector was sure he was already well acquainted.
‘Do you think that wise, sir?’ asked Lane, as soon as the door had closed after the retreating Rickets. ‘He’s just the sort of slippery individual who’d get away and who we’d never find again. I bet he’s got loads of bolt holes where he can lie low until all the fuss has died down.’
‘You’re probably right, Lane,’ agreed Deacon, ‘but that’s what I’m after in a way. I want him to try and make a run for it, as long as we’re there to catch him of course.’
‘Can I ask why, sir?’ asked the sergeant looking confused.
‘We need to find out who else Sneddon was blackmailing. We’ll never get the information out of Ricketts just by asking him. But he’s sure to take any incriminating material with him when he makes a run for it. There are rich pickings to be made now that the stakes have become so much higher. We’re not talking about indiscretions now, we’re talking about murder. I’m sure this blackmail business is tied up with Sneddon’s death somehow. Did you see how that fellow Ricketts smirked when I asked him about it? He won’t be able to resist trying to do a bit of blackmail himself.’
‘Then the man’s a fool and that’s for sure. Doesn’t he realise the danger he’s in? If he’s not careful he’ll end up with a dagger in his back himself.’
‘That sort are driven by greed and to hell with the risks. I take it the constables have searched his room and found nothing?’ Lane nodded and Deacon continued. ‘He’s not clever, that one, but he is sneaky. He’d have realised that, if there was a search, his would be one of the first rooms turned over. He’s probably buried the stuff in the garden or behind a fireplace or in the larder, or somewhere. Somewhere we’d never find it anyway, not without a great deal of effort and resources. Far better for him to take us to it, and he’ll only do that when he scarpers. We’ll have to be discreet though, he’ll do nothing if he thinks he’s being watched. He’s probably got eyes in the back of his head, that one.’
‘So what are you proposing to do?’
‘I doubt he’ll risk making a run for it before it’s dark and he thinks we’re away from here. I’m going to post a couple of men at the entrance to Dareswick, a couple on the road leading out of the village and a couple at the back of the house, down by the lake, where there’s a path off to the woods. He’s bound to try and leave by one of those ways. We’ll catch him then.’
‘You don’t think he could have done in Sneddon himself, do you, sir? It seems to me that he could easily have got into an argument with him over the splitting of the proceeds like you suggested, especially if Sneddon told him that he wasn’t going to be involved in that sort of thing anymore as a consequence of his change of heart. They probably had quite a lucrative thing going on. I can’t see Ricketts being happy about just giving it up.’
‘That’s as may be, and he’d be annoyed, I grant you, but I’ve come across fellows like him before. They’re sneaky and conniving but basically they’re cowardly and tend to run from any sign of violence. I think he’d have just upped and left, probably taking the stolen jewellery with him. So no, I don’t reckon Ricketts has got it in him to kill a man in cold blood, but I could be wrong.’
‘He could just decide to stay put until we’ve finished our investigation.’
‘He could do, but I don’t think he will. He won’t want to have the police breathing down his neck. Now, tell me, Lane, what do you think about the others? Is there a murderer amongst them? Who shall we start with? What about the baron, let’s start with him.’
Chapter Twenty-six
‘There you are Rose,’ Cedric said as soon as she re-entered the garden room, ‘I wanted to wait until you’d got back before I went. The baron wants me to go up and help him. Hallam’s with him now. Apparently he is having some difficulty getting hold of the duke. He’s very ill, at death’s door himself, according to his secretary, a chap called Harding. He’s at a clinic in Switzerland and they’re having difficulty getting through to him. And this fellow Harding, he’s not being much help. He’s reluctant to have anyone break the new
s to the duke about his son. He thinks it will finish him off. Says there’s a chance that he won’t see out the day as it is, so why distress him unnecessarily? He has a point but it’s dashed difficult for the baron, of course, puts him in a jolly awkward spot, what. He doesn’t know what to do for the best. That’s why he wants to talk it over with Hallam and me.’
He cast a glance at Isabella who was the only other occupant of the room besides themselves and lowered his voice. ‘You know, Rose, you don’t have to stay here, in this room I mean. One of the constables has just told me that we’re free to move around the house now as long as we don’t leave the premises. I suppose it’s because they’ve now interviewed everyone and searched all our rooms. I wonder if they found anything incriminating. I fancy a bit of a stroll in the garden later. I feel as if I’ve been cooped up in here all day and it isn’t even lunchtime.’
Rose wondered whether to mention the jewellery that had been discovered in Lord Sneddon’s room but, on balance, decided against it. It was not that Inspector Deacon had asked her specifically to keep the information to herself but on the other hand she did not feel that he would want the matter widely broadcast. But then Cedric wasn’t just anyone, was he? But right now he was needed elsewhere and if she were to tell him about it, then she would want them to have time to discuss the implications. Instead, feeling somewhat dejected, she watched him go to attend to the concerns of their host.
But how she longed that he would stay with her, that they could wander in the grounds alone, oblivious to the cares around them. Oh, why did Lord Sneddon have to go and get himself murdered, how very inconsiderate of him! If only she and Cedric could be allowed to enjoy their brief time together, this short respite before Madame Renard’s shop claimed her and the affairs of Sedgwick Court required his attentions. She realised now, perhaps too late, that she had been pinning so very much on this weekend. She wondered what would happen now. Would their fledgling romance just fizzle out or was it strong enough to hold the course, despite the murders that seemed to surround them? She knew what she wanted. The question was, did Cedric feel the same?
02 - Murder at Dareswick Hall Page 19
