by L. A. Nisula
“That hardly sounds enthusiastic.”
“It wasn’t, but then it wasn’t that sort of a marriage.”
“And why have you stayed on, now that the subject of your case is no longer with us?”
“I felt guilty. I know I failed miserably. And when Miss Prynne suggested that you thought there was something odd about her death, well, I felt that, if there was, it was my duty to see that the killer was caught. I hope you won’t be offended, but I did send a telegram to someone I know at Scotland Yard, Inspector Hamilton in the homicide division, and he said he would be inclined to take you seriously if you felt something was wrong.”
If only Inspector Sanders had been so sensible. “So Milly’s been telling you about my suspicions, and you’ve been looking into them?”
“Not so much looking into them as trying to facilitate their investigation. I did arrange the trip to Leighwick.”
He had, and it had been helpful.
“And I assumed you considered me a suspect, so I tried to stay out of your way when you were doing the actual investigating, although I did pump Miss Prynne for information after, I’ll admit. I also tried speaking to Inspector Sanders on more than one occasion, but he wouldn’t listen to me either.”
Mr. Douglas did sound like he was trying to be helpful. “At least I’m not the only one he ignores.”
“And I did put the evidence before her father. I’m afraid I was forced to leave you out of it, but he is even less inclined to listen to—to be honest, to a young woman, than Inspector Sanders.”
“At least he’s someone Inspector Sanders can’t ignore.”
“That’s why I summoned him down, or, more accurately, sent a strongly worded telegram suggesting he come down. He was in the middle of some sort of investment negotiations, and it took a bit of convincing.”
“I would think his daughter’s murder would take precedence.”
“Confidentially, so would I, but...” He shrugged. “What about Mr. Rivers? I know you spoke to him. Does he have an alibi?”
“He says he was in London, trying to find out where Miss Caldwell went. He thought she wanted to call off the engagement, and he says he was willing to break it if that was what she wanted.”
“And he has someone to corroborate the story?”
“He spoke to the Caldwells’ servants. One of them, Elizabeth Jeffries, had seen a book on Bath sitting on Miss Caldwell’s night stand.”
“That would be suspicious. May I ask if you are planning to continue investigating?”
“I wasn’t, but Milly practically promised Miss Jeffries that I would help Mr. Rivers, so I’m not sure I have much choice.”
“Miss Jeffries is here? You’ve mentioned her a few times, but I don’t think I’ve met her yet.”
If I was going to trust Mr. Douglas, I might as well trust him with all the facts. “I just met her in the lobby. I think she just arrived. I’m assuming it’s the same person as the maid Mr. Rivers mentioned.”
“Blonde, rather pretty? It sounds like a maid at the Caldwells’ I know as Betsy, then. And she’s his alibi as well? That won’t look good for him, then.”
“It does rather make it look like she’s the love interest.”
Mr. Douglas nodded. “Well, if you need any assistance, I’d be happy to provide it.”
I thanked him and started back inside. If he wanted to be helpful, why hadn’t he told me from the beginning that he was a detective in her father’s employ? Perhaps that was it. Perhaps Mr. Caldwell had forbidden it. Was he the sort of man to do that? The only people I knew who’d seen him besides Mr. Douglas were the Bates sisters. It seemed it was a good time to chat with them.
~ * ~ * ~
When I got inside, I realized people were already going into the dining room for dinner. I was considering if it was really necessary to change into something more formal than my blue dress when Milly found me. “Cassie, would you mind terribly if I didn’t have dinner with you. It’s just that Miss Grangeway and I thought we’d dine with Miss Morrison since the outing didn’t go as planned, and as Miss Grangeway’s mother will also be there, and there are only four chairs at most of the tables and...”
Under almost any circumstances I would have been pleased to let Milly wander off wherever she liked, but as the Bates sisters were just coming down the stairs, I was more than willing to say, “I think that’s very kind of the two of you. I’ll see you back in the room this evening.”
“I knew you’d understand.” Milly hurried off.
As soon as she was out of sight, I went to wait by the stairs.
Miss Emmaline smiled as she spotted me. “Miss Pengear, are you waiting for your cousin? We didn’t see her on the way down.”
“No, she and Miss Grangeway are dining with Miss Morrison.”
“That’s surprisingly thoughtful of them,” Miss Bates said. “Would you like to join us?”
I was relieved that I wouldn’t have to hint around for an invitation. “If you don’t mind.”
“Of course not,” Miss Emmaline said. “And it saves you the trouble of asking.”
Miss Bates turned away trying to hide a smile.
When we were settled in our places in the dining room, Miss Bates glanced at the menu then turned to me. “Did you have a productive afternoon?”
I briefly outlined what I’d done since I’d seen them last. They did not seem surprised to learn Mr. Douglas was a detective, but then they had been suspicious of his story all along.
“Ah,” Miss Bates said, nodding her head. “So you haven’t seen Mr. Caldwell yet.”
“That’s why you wanted to dine with us. We’re the only ones who have, besides staff, of course. And they are the worst sort for gossip. Everything between themselves, but nothing for well-meaning guests.”
“Of course, given the circumstances, I wonder if he would—well, well, it seems he would come down to dinner after all.” Miss Bates inclined her head in the direction of the door.
I tried to look without being too obvious, but my back was to the door so I had no choice but to turn all the way around. The older of the two men who were entering the dining room looked quite ordinary except for the obviously expensive fabric of his out-of-style suit and the large mustache which I’m sure he would have described as “impressive,” although “walrus-like” was the first thing that sprang to my mind. Passing him on the street, one would be hard-pressed to identify him as the owner of one of the most successful mining companies in the country, or as the father of a recently deceased daughter. The second man was younger, closer to my age, with a well-cared-for if cheaper suit and the look of a rather harried rabbit. I assumed that look was brought on by proximity to his employer.
The secretary darted forward and spoke to the maître d’, making arrangements for the table, no doubt. The maître d’ bowed to Mr. Caldwell then led the way to the last empty table for two in the corner. Mr. Caldwell followed at once. The secretary followed half-a-step behind as if that were the usual course of things. I rather suspected it was.
“His name is Mr. Tompkins,” Miss Bates said as I watched the pair cross the room. “I really don’t know why he stays with that man, unless the pay is unusually good.”
Miss Emmaline nodded. “Poor man seems to do nothing but run around organizing things. He could probably run the company on his own. But it isn’t good to stare too much, not considering the circumstances.”
I took that as directed at me and untwisted myself so I was again facing the sisters. “I hope he had better luck with Inspector Sanders than I did.”
“I would think so,” Miss Bates said. “Inspector Sanders seems the sort to listen to the Mr. Caldwells of the world, wouldn’t you say? Now, what else have you been doing while you were here?”
I spent the rest of the meal giving them an edited version of what we had been doing, leaving out most of the details we had learned about the case, which made it seem rather dull, but then a long description of the location of a post office
in a city halfway across England didn’t seem particularly exciting either. I was relieved when we finished our dessert and Miss Bates said, “Let’s go into the lounge and see how the others are amusing themselves,” as it meant I wouldn’t have to think of anything else to try and make sound interesting.
As I followed the Bates sisters out of the dining room, we spotted Mr. Tompkins hurrying out on some errand.
“Would you like an introduction?” Miss Bates whispered as he passed. Without waiting for my answer, she said, “Mr. Tompkins, I hope your afternoon was successful?”
Mr. Tompkins turned in her direction but seemed to be at a loss for how to respond.
Miss Emmaline filled the gap. “I’m afraid we did not find Inspector Sanders to be particularly responsive when we spoke to him, and Miss Pengear here has had no end of trouble getting him to listen to reason. Have the two of you been properly introduced?”
The last bit seemed to be something he knew how to answer. “I’m afraid not.”
“Then allow us to do the honors.” Miss Bates turned to me. “Miss Pengear, allow me to present Mr. Charles Tompkins, secretary to Mr. Caldwell. Mr. Tompkins, Miss Cassandra Pengear, lately of London.”
I extended my hand, “Pleased to meet you.”
“How do you do.” Mr. Tompkins shook my hand, looking a little confused by the quick changes of subject.
Miss Bates didn’t give him a chance to recover. “So did you make any progress with the police?”
Mr. Tompkins glanced towards the lobby as if he were hoping for escape but couldn’t find a polite way of avoiding the question. “I’m afraid not. The inspector was quite certain it was nothing more than an accident, despite reports to the contrary. In the end, he arrested someone who I am quite certain is innocent, as it was the only way to get rid of us. Apparently there were witnesses who saw her being drowned.”
“That was Miss Pengear and her cousin,” Miss Emmaline said quickly.
“She’s been trying to get Inspector Sanders to listen from the start,” Miss Bates added, “with disappointingly little success.”
Mr. Tompkins nodded. “I see. Well, Mr. Caldwell has insisted on a full investigation, even though the inspector is insisting he has the killer in custody now. Of course, he spent most of the day insisting it was an accident, so really it’s hard to believe him. Although why anyone would want to kill Miss Caldwell...”
That seemed the best opening I could expect. “That’s exactly what I’ve been trying to figure out. Was there anyone who would have gained by her death?”
“You mean an inheritance? She had nothing to leave. When she married, she was to receive a marriage portion that was quite generous, and when Mr. Caldwell passes on, there would have been money and his stake in the company, but she had nothing but a few odds and ends to leave on her own. I doubt anyone would commit murder for drawing pencils or even Worth gowns. You seem disappointed.”
“Money is always such a good motive.” As he hadn’t seemed terribly shocked by the question, I went on. “What about enemies?”
“Miss Caldwell? I’m sure there were some at school who didn’t like her, boarding schools can be more clannish and back-stabbing than any boardroom, but to kill her? I can’t imagine that.”
“What about her father? Could any of his enemies have done something like this?”
“Heavens, no. We’ve had some fights in the boardroom, but I can’t see them coming to fisticuffs, let alone murder.”
Since talk of enemies had seemed to shock him more than money, I went back to safer territory. “Who stands to inherit now?”
“Mr. Caldwell’s sister will get the money, I presume, or his nieces and nephews. The shares of the company will go to his partner, Mr. Rollins. Now, if you ladies will excuse me, Mr. Caldwell did want me to check if any telegrams came for him. There was a business deal he was trying to close when he left Manchester, and he wants to know how it’s progressing.”
“We are sorry to have kept you,” Miss Emmaline said.
Mr. Tompkins nodded again and hurried towards the lobby.
“Well, what do you make of that?” Miss Bates asked as she led the way to the lounge.
“Quite an important business if he needs to keep conducting it during the investigation of his only daughter’s death,” Miss Emmaline answered.
“Quite,” Miss Bates replied. “And did you find anything, Miss Pengear?”
“There doesn’t seem to be much of a motive. But perhaps I didn’t ask the right questions.”
“Now that you’ve been properly introduced, you can certainly ask more. Did you wish to come sit with us, or wait for your cousin to arrive?”
“I should probably wait for Milly.” And that would give me the opportunity to observe when Mr. Tompkins and Mr. Caldwell arrived.
“There’s a good view of the door from the chair by the piano, if you should need it,” Miss Bates said.
“And if you should need us, we’ll be by the window,” Miss Emmaline added.
“Thank you.” I watched the pair go to their seat by the garden window then picked up a random book from the table and went to the chair by the piano they had suggested, and watched the door.
Chapter 17
I DIDN’T HAVE VERY LONG to wait. I hadn’t even had time to figure out how I would approach Mr. Tompkins when I spotted him and Mr. Caldwell as they entered the lounge. I waited until Mr. Caldwell was distracted by the newspapers then went up to Mr. Tompkins. Miss Emmaline’s greeting from our first evening was the best I could think of on such short notice. “I do think it’s so difficult at these hotels on the first night when one doesn’t know anyone, don’t you?”
“I suppose.” Mr. Tompkins looked like he wanted to disappear into a corner. I could sympathize, but that wouldn’t get me any answers.
“Of course, once introductions are made, it’s so much easier, having names to go with the faces and all. Now, let me see. You know the Bates sisters. Over by the piano is my cousin Miss Prynne. And that’s Mr. Douglas.”
“Yes, I met him earlier.”
And that meant if they’d known each other before, I would have no way of knowing. I scanned the room. “Now there is Mr. Langley, he works for the hotel. And the gentleman by the fireplace is Mr. Gibson.” I looked, but there was no sign of recognition. “And the gentleman by the window is Mr. Mulgrove.” I paused. When there was no reaction, I went on. “And by the card table is Mr. Armstrong.”
“Miss Pengear, I’m sorry. Did you say the man by the window was a Mr. Mulgrove?”
“That’s right.”
“The large window that looks out onto the gardens?”
“Yes, Mr. Mulgrove, from Swinton, I believe.”
Mr. Tompkins furrowed his brow and stared at Mr. Mulgrove. It was certainly an interesting reaction. I touched his elbow and nudged him towards one of the more sheltered windows.
“Something about that strikes you as wrong.” When he didn’t move, I added, “There has been a murder, after all.”
“Quite. Quite.” He let me guide him to the window. When we were seated, he glanced back towards Mr. Mulgrove. “You’re absolutely certain he introduced himself to you as ‘Mr. Mulgrove’? You couldn’t have misunderstood or confused him with someone else or something?”
“I’m quite certain. You know him; how?”
“He’s related to one of our board members, Mr. Horace Rollins. I used to be his secretary, you see. The gentleman in question is named Mr. Joseph Mulligan. They’re cousins, I believe, or step-brothers, I don’t think I ever really knew. He was away most of the time when I worked for Mr. Rollins, a bit of black sheep I believe.”
“Is that the same Mr. Rollins who stands to inherit a large number of shares in Mr. Caldwell’s company?”
“Yes, but that’s...”
“That’s the connection,” I whispered, or at least I thought I thought it, but Mr. Tompkins gave me an odd look, so I must have said it aloud.
“I’m afraid I don’t
understand. Connection to what?”
“To Miss Caldwell.”
Mr. Tompkins looked ready to protest, then froze. “You mean you think he’s involved in her death?”
I nodded, unsure how much information to share with him.
“Because you think he wanted to prevent her and Mr. Rivers from getting Mr. Caldwell’s shares? But that’s terrible.”
“I’m afraid it’s always unpleasant finding that someone you know is capable...”
“That’s not what I meant. Mr. Caldwell will be attending a house party at the Rollins estate next month. When Miss Caldwell... When the unfortunate incident occurred, I tried to tell him everyone would understand if he chose to stay home, but there are some important men from America coming; one of the big mining companies there wants to discuss a merger that would make him bigger than Rockefeller if he plays his cards right, at least according to him. He didn’t want to miss that.”
“And Mr. Mulgrove will be there?”
“I think so. I don’t know. Mr. Rollins didn’t have him around very often, even when they were both in town.”
“But often enough that Mr. Caldwell will recognize him here?”
“I would think so, but I’m sure he has some story or other lined up to explain it.”
I considered these new facts, trying to fit them into place. “It makes sense, though. That’s why he had to lure her here, to do away with her before the house party. Otherwise, she would have inherited when her father died. And if she went into mourning, there would be no way to get to her before she married Mr. Rivers, and then the shares would be his.”
“Lured her here? Miss Pengear, this is quite...outside of my usual employment.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to drag you into it. We didn’t know the connection between her and anyone here, if there even was one, and the detective in charge didn’t want to listen to us no matter how much evidence we brought, so we were quite limited in what we could do. He could just as easily have really been her paramour and invited her here for a rendezvous.”
