Murder at the Car Rally

by Sonia Parin

  Evie could feel Tom becoming impatient as the constable asked her the same questions he had asked Tom.

  “Lady Woodridge has suffered a shock. I think we have provided enough information, constable. We would like to continue on our journey.”

  Evie glanced at him. Surely, he didn’t think they would go on as if nothing had happened. “Is there a pub in the village?”

  The constable nodded. “There is, my lady. The Pecking Goose.”

  “That’s where we are meeting the rest of our party. Constable, if you have any further questions that is where you will find us.”

  They left the police to further investigate the accident site. Evie had several more sips of her cider before saying, “I simply cannot believe that just happened. What do you make of it all?”

  Tom didn’t answer straightaway. He drove at a sedate pace and appeared to be lost in his thoughts.

  Eventually, he suggested, “I think there might have been something wrong with the driver.”

  “I agree. I could see Isabel trying to commandeer the vehicle. Do you think that’s what made it swerve out of control?”

  He tapped his finger on the steering wheel. “This might be too much information for you but you saw what I saw. I had to wedge his foot out.” He glanced at Evie. “I think Lorenzo died before the car crashed.”

  “Did you tell the police that?”

  “No. It’s all coming to me now. His foot appeared to be wedged between the accelerator and the brake pedal. We’ll know more when Isabel recovers from the shock.”

  Evie spent the rest of the drive shaking her head in disbelief. To think Unique had wanted to become involved in a mystery. She’d be quite annoyed to hear what she’d missed.

  Had Lorenzo had some sort of attack? He and Isabel must have set off early from London. How long had he been driving? What if he’d fallen asleep and Isabel hadn’t been able to wake him up?

  When the car had finally crashed, his body had been thrown forward and they’d found him slumped over the steering wheel.

  It would be difficult to tell if he had already been dead before the crash. As Tom had said, they would have to wait for Isabel to recover from the experience.

  Until then…

  They could only guess.

  Leaning back in her seat, Evie closed her eyes and tried to clear her mind.

  Several minutes later, Tom said, “We’re here.”

  Evie waited until the car came to a full stop before opening her eyes.

  Glancing up and down the street, she saw several groups of people gathered at various points along the village street, all talking and gazing down the road.

  News about the accident had evidently reached them.

  “You should do all the talking,” Evie said as they made their way toward the Pecking Goose. “They might smell cider on me and think we are on some sort of drinking binge.”

  “Glad to see you have recovered your sense of humor.”

  “It’s only now coming back to me. I’m afraid I might be using it as a coping mechanism. Although, I should adopt a more somber attitude. I wouldn’t want anyone to think I’m insensitive.”

  As they entered the pub, she looked over her shoulder. “I wonder how long it will take the others to arrive. I’m feeling rather guilty for running off as I did. What if this is all my fault. If I’d stayed on at the house, Isabel would not have given chase and Lorenzo would still be alive.” Evie gasped and realized she was once again sounding like Isabel and talking a mile a minute. “I’m not sure I can deal with this guilt. Am I being selfish thinking about myself?”

  Tom tugged her inside. “If you’re going to talk through it, you should sit down first and have a proper drink.”

  “I don’t hear you trying to dissuade me from feeling as I do.”

  “Would it work?”

  Evie heard herself yelp, “We won’t know until you try.”

  Chapter Seven

  An impromptu house party

  Two hours later, the Pecking Goose

  Charlie, Lord Braithwaite, strode in, his hands in his pockets, his eyes dancing around as if searching for something to capture his attention.

  Unique and Lord Alexander Saunders followed, their arms entwined, their lips stretched into bright smiles.

  The others followed with Batty bringing up the rear.

  Evie and Tom watched them with interest. They had sat down to lunch and had spent half an hour pushing their food around their plates. In the end, they had given up saying they had lost their appetites.

  “They are either oblivious to what’s happened or they are taking it all in their stride. Do you think the police have already cleared the wreckage from the roadside?”

  “They must have,” Tom said. “I don’t see anyone looking particularly concerned.”

  Spotting Phillipa, Evie waved. “I think she might be able to tell us something,” Evie murmured. “She’s the only one in the group with a solemn expression.”

  Phillipa drew out a chair and removed the goggles she had hanging around her neck.

  Evie exchanged a look with Tom. “You must have driven at great speeds to get here so quickly.”

  “Breakneck,” Phillipa agreed. “It can be exhausting. We took turns to lead the group. We do that to stay alert.”

  “Did you see anything along the way?”

  Phillipa nodded. “Near here.” She looked up and gave a weary smile. “I’d kill for a cup of tea but I’ll settle for a glass of ale.”

  “What did you see?”

  “Oh, we didn’t exactly see much of anything. There were a couple of police cars blocking the view and, despite slowing down, we were waved on. Do you know what happened?”

  Oh, dear…

  “Brace yourself.” Evie took hold of Phillipa’s hands. “I’m afraid I have some bad news.” Before Evie could break the news, Unique screeched. Evie looked around and saw the young woman standing at the bar.

  “W-what?” Unique screeched again.

  The group huddled around Unique and talked at a rate of knots.

  “I think they have just been informed.”

  “Of what?” Phillipa asked.

  “Isabel Fitzpatrick and her husband, Lorenzo Bianchi, were involved in a car accident.” Evie went on to explain how she’d bumped into her old friend in town and had then received a telegram informing her of their plans to drive down to Halton House.

  Phillipa leaned forward, her eyes sparkling with interest. “Heavens. They arrived at Halton House soon after you left. When told of your departure, they decided to give chase. Are they all right?”

  Before Evie could answer, the pub erupted in a wave of exclamations filled with disbelief. A couple of men staggered back and collapsed onto chairs. Questions were fired in every direction but no one had answers.

  “What’s going on?” Phillipa asked and half rose out of her chair.

  “I’m afraid they are not quite all right… Lorenzo Bianchi died in the crash.”

  “But how?” Phillipa asked.

  Tom gave an account of everything they had seen. “The police are investigating.”

  As if on cue, the constable strode into the pub. Looking around, he settled his gaze on Evie and Tom and made his way toward their table.

  “I’ve been sent to ask if you could please remain in the vicinity. A detective will soon be arriving from London and he would like to speak with you.”

  “How long are we expected to remain here?” Evie asked, her tone carrying the weight of her title, something she rarely exploited. While she wished to be helpful, she also needed to return home. “It’s already the middle of the afternoon.” They couldn’t travel at night and the sooner they got on their way, the sooner they could get back to Halton House.

  “As long as it takes,” the constable said.

  “Are you saying we must simply bide our time here until the detective shows up?”

  The constable nodded. Turning to Phillipa, he asked for her name. “And wha
t is your association with Lady Woodridge?”

  Evie spoke up, “She is my house guest.”

  “Were Isabel and Lorenzo Bianchi your house guests too?”

  Evie turned to Tom and then shook her head. “No, but… they had stopped at Halton House to see me.”

  “Lady Woodridge, earlier you said you were meeting a group of people.” The constable looked around the pub. “Are they with you too?”

  When Evie nodded, he continued, “And were they guests at your house?”

  “Well… Yes, but only for a night.”

  The constable wrote something down and said, “I expect the detective will want to speak with everyone.”

  Tom objected. “And what do you propose we do in the meantime?”

  “This pub should be able to accommodate you.”

  Indeed, the pub couldn’t accommodate them. The roof had suffered some damage the previous winter and the repairs were taking longer than anticipated.

  “What does this mean?” Phillipa asked. “Why are the police investigating?”

  Evie leaned forward and whispered, “Tom thinks Lorenzo might have died before the car crashed.” Evie watched Phillipa as she processed the information. “If he’s suspicious, then I imagine the police have entertained their own ideas. They would obviously have more experience with this type of accident.” Turning to Tom, she asked, “Did you notice anything odd about Lorenzo?”

  “Such as?” Tom asked.

  “Something that might suggest he’d died beforehand.” Evie gave a small shrug. “We’ve read enough books on the subject to know some poisons leave traces such as the scent of almonds.”

  “I only checked for a pulse.” Tom straightened.

  “What?”

  “I need to stretch my legs.”

  “I’ll join you. I think I could do with some fresh air.” Patting Phillipa’s hand, Evie said, “You look pale.”

  “I’m fine but I need more time for all this to sink in.”

  Evie caught the attention of a waiter and ordered some food and drink for Phillipa. Two others joined her table.

  Evie looked at the man but drew a blank.

  “It’s Edward Spencer,” Phillipa said. “And this is Marjorie.”

  Oh, yes…

  Plain Marjorie who had something in common with Tom.

  When a couple of others from the group joined them, including Lark Wainscot, Evie excused herself and went outside in search of Tom.

  She found him by the village green sitting on a bench, his cap tipped back, his gaze fixed on a puffy cloud hovering above the village. He wore a different coat to the one he’d worn earlier and Evie assumed he had retrieved it from his luggage…

  “Have you managed to clear your thoughts?” Evie asked.

  Drawing in a deep breath, he leaned forward. “His lips were blue.”

  Evie sat down next to him. Biting the edge of her lip, she said, “If he’d died on impact his lips would still have looked normal. So, he must have died before. Is that what you’re saying?”

  He nodded.

  Evie wondered how long it would take for lips to turn blue.

  “I saw a man choke on a peanut once,” Tom said. “He struggled to draw a breath and his lips turned blue quite quickly. He eventually recovered. Lorenzo might have had some sort of attack while driving.”

  “And you think that’s when Isabel tried to take control of the vehicle.”

  “I assume that’s what happened. He might have chocked or… he might have had a heart attack.”

  When Evie had met Lorenzo Bianchi, he’d looked perfectly healthy. Tall with a strong physique, his eyes had been bright, his cheeks showing good health…

  “How’s Phillipa?” Tom asked. “Is she still in shock over the news?”

  “Yes. I left her with…” she clicked her fingers, “the fellow with ginger hair, Edward Spencer and a couple of others. Let me think, Anthony Wright. Peter Berkley. Marjorie and… the woman with a bird name.”

  “Lark Wainscot.”

  “I take it you spoke with her too.”

  “I had a brief chat with her last night. She wants to become a stage actress.”

  “Not a film star?”

  “No, she explained she is a purist, whatever that means.”

  They sat in silence for a while. Evie wished they could all go home and put this behind them. Then she thought about Isabel. She would need somewhere to stay while arrangements were made for the funeral.

  So much for trying to avoid her…

  When a couple of people emerged from the pub, Tom mused, “Charlie and Batty are both Lords. What does that mean… What sort of title is it?”

  “It’s difficult to say. It depends on their fathers and on whether they’re first born or second born sons,” Evie explained. “Sara would be able to tell you more about their parents but their fathers are most likely peers.”

  “And they stand to inherit.”

  “Yes. If they’re first born sons.”

  “If they stand to inherit the title and everything that goes with it, shouldn’t they be applying themselves to learning the ropes?”

  “They’re probably sowing their wild oats,” Evie said.

  “Or rebelling?”

  Evie shrugged. “I doubt it. They’re groomed from an early age to accept their responsibilities. Where are you going with this?”

  “I’m trying to distract myself,” Tom said.

  Evie followed the direction of his gaze. Charlie and Batty stood outside the pub talking. “I suppose they needed to step out for a breath of air. Are you curious enough to want to know what they’re talking about?”

  “I imagine they are making plans for the night.”

  “That would be too practical for them. Perhaps they sabotaged Lorenzo Bianchi’s car and are now getting their story straight.”

  Tom glanced at her. “Are you just making conversation or are you being serious?”

  “Like you, I am trying to distract myself. In any case, here’s something else to take your mind off. Since the pub can’t accommodate us, we need to find somewhere else to spend the night.” With the greatest reluctance, Evie drew out the list Sara had provided. “Sir Warwick is on it.”

  “I’m not surprised,” Tom said. “After all, he claims to know Lady Sara.”

  Glancing at the list, Evie said, “Sara knows a great number of people. I suppose I do too. But no one in the immediate vicinity.” Huffing out a breath, she added, “The constable should not have asked us to remain here. We can’t be expected to impose on the local gentry at a moment’s notice.”

  She looked across the street at Charlie and Batty. “They look relaxed.” As if they were conversing about nothing more mundane than the weather, she thought.

  “Batty rubbed his neck a couple of times. That’s a sign of concern about something.” Tom straightened. “What does his lordship who stands to inherit a title worry about?”

  “In my experience? He is likely to be concerned about what he’ll wear to this year’s Derby.” She looked away and turned slightly to gaze down the road. “The police wish to speak with us and with our car rally companions. What does that mean? We’ve already provided them with all the information we have.”

  “If I had to guess,” Tom said, “the police are interested in what happened before and after Isabel and Lorenzo left Halton House.”

  Evie brushed her fingers across her eyes. “I suppose we should ask for directions to Sir Warwick’s house.”

  “No need. There he is,” Tom said and drew her attention back to the pub.

  “Where did he come from?”

  Tom leaned slightly to gaze down the side street. “I think that’s his motor car. He must have been in the village all along.”

  And now Charlie and Batty had engaged him in conversation.

  “He’s looking this way.”

  “Should I wave?” Evie asked. “I get the feeling Charlie and Batty mentioned me and that’s why he looked at us.”
/>   Sir Warwick tipped his hat.

  “That’s your cue and invitation to seek refuge with him,” Tom said. “As the highest-ranking member of our group, you alone stand a chance of securing us a roof over our heads for the night.”

  “Us? It might be time to cut everyone loose and look after my own interests.”

  Tom grinned. “And how will you get home?”

  “Oh, that’s right. Fine, I suppose I can get you in and… and Phillipa too.”

  “You’re in luck. He is coming to you.”

  Sir Warwick tipped his hat. “We meet again, Lady Woodridge. And I see there is no happy conclusion to your tale. I should like to extend an invitation to you and your fellow travelers.”

  Tom nudged Evie.

  “Sir Warwick. It is very kind of you to offer. You have spared me the embarrassment of having to ask. The police have put us in an impossible situation.”

  “Yes, those young fellows have just been telling me. Well, you are in luck. Warwick Hall is at your disposal.”

  He proceeded to give them directions saying he would hurry back to make the arrangements.

  “And you didn’t even have to ask,” Tom mused.

  “Are you trying to make a point?”

  “Only that a regular person would have to sleep on a park bench while you have access to a manor house.”

  “I refuse to apologize for my privileged status. For your information, I am not even embarrassed by all the advantages I enjoy.” Glancing at him, she saw his lips lifted into a smile. “You’re teasing me.”

  “And you are so easy to tease.”

  Chapter Eight

  Every man is guilty of all the good he did not do – Voltaire

  As they made their way to Sir Richard Warwick’s home, Evie tried to sit back in silent introspection but there were too many thoughts colliding in her mind. So, she prattled on, “Queen Elizabeth used to travel around a great deal, staying in the great houses at no cost to herself. If I put my mind to it, I could spend the better part of the year as a guest.”

  “Are you still trying to distract yourself?” Tom asked.

  “Partly.” No matter what she thought about, the feeling of guilt kept surging inside her.