Murder on Bonfire Night

by Addison, Margaret

‘Well, I never!’ exclaimed the inspector. ‘I never knew that. And this practice of sweeping the bonfire is carried out every year, you say?’

  ‘Without fail, Inspector.’

  ‘So if a corpse happened to be lurking there in the pile it would be discovered before the bonfire was lit?’

  ‘It certainly would,’ enthused Cedric. ‘The sweep’s pretty thorough, I can tell you. If it can find a hedgehog, it would definitely uncover any body, no matter how carefully it was hidden.’

  ‘Now, as I understand it,’ continued the inspector, glancing at his sergeant to make sure that he had taken a note of the practice regarding the hedgehogs, ‘the village children brought their guys with them to the field and positioned them in a line in preparation for the judging?’ He turned his gaze on Rose. ‘And that was to be undertaken by yourself, Lady Belvedere?’

  ‘That’s right, though actually my husband and I did it between us as I hadn’t done it before.’

  ‘Just so. What we need to do now is have a word with these children.’ Inspector Newcombe paused and glanced at his watch. ‘I suppose they’ve all gone back to their homes by now, it being rather late and the firework display done with? Bell, I’d like you to take a constable with you first thing in the morning and have a word with them. Happen they might have seen something. It would be too much to hope of course that they might have seen our murderer positioning the body in the line.’

  ‘I do hope you don’t mind, Inspector,’ began Rose rather tentatively, ‘but I have actually spoken to the children about it already.’

  ‘Have you indeed?’ The inspector raised an eyebrow. ‘That was jolly quick of you, Lady Belvedere.’

  ‘I thought it best to speak to them tonight before they were aware of what had happened. And as they were all gathered together here, why it seemed the perfect opportunity.’

  ‘I see. Did you tell them about the murder?’

  ‘Of course not,’ replied Rose rather indignantly. ‘I thought it not my place to do so and besides, I didn’t want to frighten them.’

  ‘Well, and what were the results of your investigation, Lady Belvedere?’ It was hard to tell if the inspector was peeved or not.

  ‘The body was already there before any of them arrived. The children naturally assumed it was just another guy and arranged their guys around it.’

  ‘They didn’t take a look at its face?’

  ‘No, thank goodness. I don’t think it interested them particularly. I believe they were under the impression that a group of the village girls had made it, given that it was wearing rather fine clothes.’

  ‘It’s lucky they didn’t decide to strip the guy and take the jacket,’ said Cedric. ‘That’s the sort of things boys do, to spite the girls.’

  His mouth had curled up slightly at the corners, and Rose wondered whether he had done just such a thing in his youth. A vision sprung up before her eyes of a beautifully painted effigy dressed in a gown of crimson silk, that she could well imagine his sister might have made, and a group of boys, led by Cedric, ripping the dress to shreds, a hysterical Lavinia chasing them around the field and threatening to tell her mother.

  ‘Well, it’s fortunate for them they weren’t so inclined. They’d have been in for a nasty shock,’ said the inspector. ‘I suppose you’ll tell me, Lady Belvedere, that they didn’t see anybody lurking about so to speak?’

  ‘No, they didn’t, not a soul.’

  ‘Of course we’ll know more tomorrow once we’ve ascertained the time of death,’ said Inspector Newcombe. ‘But it looks like the body might have lain there for hours. The pile’s swept for hedgehogs just before it’s lit, didn’t you say? So there’d be no reason for anybody to be about before the children arrived with their guys, I suppose? What about your servants taking down the food and setting up the tables?’

  ‘They tend to leave that until the very last minute,’ said Cedric. ‘It’s a frightful job getting everything ready, I can tell you. Usually they have only just got everything set up in time for the lighting of the bonfire. I’ll check with my butler of course and the cook, but I don’t doubt the children were the first to arrive. Ah … now, wait a minute.’

  ‘What is it?’ The inspector looked up sharply. Rose felt herself on edge. Even Sergeant Bell had paused for a moment in his notetaking, his pencil suspended in the air, hovering above his notebook.

  ‘Major Spittlehouse was telling me only the other day that the Bonfire Committee had organised a night watch of the bonfire,’ Cedric said. ‘Apparently there has been some trouble with gangs of children from other villages trying to pilfer the wood from our pyre.’ He chuckled. ‘It happens every year and I won’t deny that I did a bit of it myself when I was a boy, but the major had got a bit of a bee in his bonnet about it this year. So much so that he’d organised this night watch. It’s just possible that they might have seen something, or someone, should I say?’

  ‘There’s no suggestion that the man was murdered last night,’ said the inspector sounding disappointed. ‘He’d have been missed for one thing and our medical man’s preliminary findings are that he had not been dead more than a few hours. As I’ve said, we’ll know more tomorrow, but there it is.’

  ‘I’m not suggesting that, Inspector. Knowing the major as I do,’ said Cedric, ‘I think it highly likely that he arranged a final watch to take place today. Late afternoon, I would imagine.’

  ‘Very well, we’ll have a word with him about it. Talking of which, let’s get the major and his sister in, shall we? I should like to know the last time this Masters chap was seen alive and happen as not they can tell us.’ He looked up and smiled as the door opened and one of the footmen entered. ‘Ah, here’s the coffee.’

  Chapter Sixteen

  ‘Linus!’

  Daphne Spittlehouse sprang up from the armchair in which she had been slouched, very nearly toppling the occasional table beside her in her haste. She ran forward impulsively, her hands outstretched and then stopped abruptly. Whether this was because of the look upon the major’s face or the swift recollection that she very seldom embraced her brother, was not clear. What was certain, however, was that she all of a sudden felt awkward and self-conscious. She stood there hesitant, twisting her hands together and biting her bottom lip between her teeth.

  ‘Oh, Linus …’ The words were said in such a very pathetic way and accompanied with such a heartfelt sigh that Major Spittlehouse wondered for a moment if Daphne were about to faint and crumple to the floor. He strode forward instinctively, but his sister seemed to collect herself and with a great determination of effort and will stood straight, her shoulders back and her chin thrust forward. For a moment brother and sister stood staring at each other, neither speaking.

  ‘It’s all right,’ Major Spittlehouse said at last. ‘You’ve had an awful shock, that’s all.’ He found that he had half extended an arm towards her. He stared at it stupidly and let it drop down to his side.

  ‘It is true, then? Masters is dead? Oh, a part of me hoped that Lady Belvedere had got it all wrong,’ cried Daphne.

  ‘It’s true enough. He’s dead all right,’ said Major Spittlehouse grimly.

  ‘And … murdered?’

  The second word was said with such revulsion by the speaker that she actually appeared to recoil. The major, watching her steadfastly, merely nodded, a slow and deliberate movement.

  ‘But who would want to kill Masters of all people?’ Daphne cried. Vaguely she was aware that she had said something very similar to Rose, and caught her breath. It seemed such a very long time ago that she had last spoken to the countess; it might almost have been a different day.

  ‘Don’t you know?’ said Major Spittlehouse quietly.

  ‘What?’ Had she heard her brother correctly? At once she was on her guard. ‘Well, of course not. Why … why should I know?’

  ‘I just thought you might, that’s all.’ The words were spoken softly enough and yet …

  ‘No.’ Daphne stared at her brother du
mbfounded, her bottom lip trembling uncontrollably. ‘Tell me what you mean by saying such a thing, Linus.’

  The major stared at her for a few moments before lowering his gaze. ‘Forgive me. I was not thinking straight.’ He passed a hand over his brow and bent his head. ‘I am not quite myself.’

  ‘You most certainly are not.’ She watched him keenly, a grim look upon her face. Vaguely conscious that she was staring at him with a mixture of hatred and disbelief, he looked up to meet her gaze. He flinched under her penetrating stare and turned away. Now neither could see each other’s eyes, which had seemed to bore through the other as if each had been a piece of wood.

  ‘It is frightful, isn’t it?’ Daphne said at last to break the silence, if nothing else. She pulled at her bottom lip and glanced at her brother. ‘I don’t want to think about it.’

  ‘Then don’t,’ said Major Spittlehouse brusquely. ‘There’s no reason why you should. Put it out of your mind.’

  ‘And how might I do that, Linus?’ She sounded weary. ‘You make it sound so very easy, but it isn’t. It isn’t at all.’

  ‘It can be if you want it to be. It needn’t be complicated. I’ll send for the doctor and ask him to give you a sedative to help you sleep.’

  ‘And what would be the use of that?’ Daphne stared miserably down at the carpet. ‘The policemen will want to speak to me. It was them I heard arriving in the hall just now, wasn’t it?’

  ‘The police be damned,’ replied her brother with feeling. ‘They’ll have to make do with me tonight.’

  ‘You are being quite ridiculous, Linus, but it is sweet of you.’ She turned and stared at him and put out her hand. For a very awkward and brief moment, they held hands. ‘I’m … I’m very frightened.’

  ‘You needn’t be. It’ll be all right.’

  ‘Will it? How can you say it will be?’ She turned away again and hid her face. ‘Oh, it’s all so horrible. Who could have done it, Linus? Who could have done such a thing?’ How many times that evening, she wondered, had she asked a variation of that question?

  ‘I don’t know,’ answered her brother dully. ‘If you don’t know who did it, then I don’t know.’

  With his words, the closeness that had been there momentarily evaporated as quickly as it had formed. There was now the usual distance between them.

  ‘They disguised him as a guy,’ Daphne was saying, more to herself than to him. ‘They left him there on the ground to be thrown on the fire like a piece of wood, they –’

  ‘Stop it, do you hear me?’ cried her brother. He was vaguely aware that his voice had risen. He eyed her coldly. ‘Is it not enough that he’s dead?’ His face was ashen. ‘We’d been together a long time, he and I. He may have been my servant but I thought of him as a friend.’

  ‘I know. I am sorry, Linus.’

  ‘Are you, are you really?’ There was an earnestness in his voice that was not lost on her.

  ‘Yes. It’s funny. Sometimes I forget you feel things as I do.’

  ‘It’s not so very odd,’ her brother replied rather gruffly.

  It is possible that their awkward and disjointed discourse might have continued for some time more, had they not been aware of the sound of footsteps on the landing outside. A mutual silence fell upon them and moments later Lord and Lady Belvedere entered with compassionate looks upon their faces. Their manner to their guests was sympathetic. Even so, Daphne gave them something of a startled look and clenched her hands into tight fists.

  ‘Do they want to see me, the police, I mean?’ she asked anxiously.

  ‘Not yet,’ reassured Cedric, taking in the woman’s agitated state. He spoke gently in much the same way as he might have spoken to a frightened child. ‘They’d like to speak to your brother first.’ He glanced at his wristwatch. ‘I daresay they’ll decide not to question you until tomorrow morning given the hour.’

  ‘That’s just what I was saying,’ said the major rallying. ‘Perhaps you would be so good as to arrange for someone to escort my sister back to Green Gables?’

  ‘Of course,’ Rose said. ‘I am happy to accompany Miss Spittlehouse myself.’

  ‘But, Mrs Masters,’ cried Daphne. ‘I shan’t know what to say to her. Oh, don’t look at me like that, Linus. I’m not good at that sort of thing, you know I’m not. I shall only make things worse. You know it is you she will want to see, not me.’

  ‘You needn’t worry,’ said Rose, a touch of coldness in her voice. ‘My mother telephoned to say that she and Mrs Dobson have taken Mrs Masters to stay with them at South Lodge. They thought it best that she not be left alone tonight or troubled with doing domestic tasks.’

  ‘Quite right,’ agreed Major Spittlehouse. ‘That was very thoughtful of your mother, Lady Belvedere. I appreciate Mrs Simpson’s kindness and would be grateful if you could pass on my thanks. I popped in to Green Gables myself on my way here to break the news to Mrs Masters of her husband’s death. I found the house quite shut up and not a soul about. It gave me quite a turn, I can tell you, till I spotted a note your mother had left on the mantelpiece in the hall.’

  ‘So you would have me wait there all alone until you came home?’ said Daphne shrilly. She gave her brother something of an outraged look and bit her lip.

  ‘I thought I might send for Biddy to sit with you,’ answered her brother, clearly embarrassed by her tone in company.

  Rose wondered if this was the usual way she spoke to her brother; assuredly there was an awkwardness between them. Had she not known better, she would have said there was a sense of hostility in the air, and something else also. It took her a while to determine what it was, this other emotion that filled the room and tainted the air. Suspicion. It was distrust that hung about the room; she had attended the aftermath of too many murders to be in any doubt.

  ‘I don’t want to go home; I want to stay here,’ said Daphne obstinately.

  Major Spittlehouse looked about to protest, but appeared to think better of it. Instead, he said: ‘Very well. I suppose there’s no harm in your staying here until I’ve been interviewed. After that I’ll see you home myself and I daresay we can do for ourselves tonight until Biddy comes in the morning to do the chores. That is, of course, if you have no objection to my sister staying here a little while longer, Lady Belvedere? I don’t want us to inconvenience you.’

  ‘Of course not, it would be a pleasure,’ Rose answered politely enough, though in truth she would have preferred that his sister not stay at Sedgwick Court for a moment longer than was absolutely necessary. Unfair though it might be, Rose could not rid herself of the notion that there was very little about Daphne Spittlehouse that was likable. The woman was aware of the awfulness of what had happened only insomuch as it affected her. She had not considered the poor man’s widow nor, it would appear, her own brother. This impression was not helped with Daphne adding as a mumbled aside, which only Rose, who happened to be standing next to her heard: ‘I shan’t ever want to go back to Green Gables, not ever. I want to stay here.’

  ‘Ah, Major Spittlehouse, good of you to join us,’ said Inspector Newcombe, indicating a chair that was positioned opposite his own. ‘And how is your sister?’

  ‘Dreadfully upset as you might imagine. Poor girl’s quite gone to pieces. Lady Belvedere is very kindly sitting with her now; I didn’t think it wise to leave her alone.’ The major hesitated a moment before taking the seat offered and gave the inspector an earnest look. ‘I say, I do hope you won’t think it necessary to question her tonight. What she needs is a good night’s sleep.’

  ‘Well, I don’t think we’ll need to speak to her tonight,’ said the inspector, glancing at his wristwatch, ‘particularly given the time. We’ll be making an early start tomorrow with the interviews. That’s not to say that my sergeant and I won’t be up to all hours, because we will. Reviewing the list of people who attended tonight’s celebrations for one thing, and seeing if the police surgeon and our fingerprint chaps have any more to give us.’ He looked up and add
ressed Cedric, who had followed the major into the room and gave a brief smile. ‘It was good of you to arrange for those lists to be made, my lord; it’s helped us no end.’ He returned his attention to Major Spittlehouse. ‘First light, and Bell and I will be up at the scene. I’d like to see it in the daylight and get a feel for the place. There’s only so much that you can see in the dark with lamps and flash bulbs and the like. That’s the trouble when something like this happens out of doors. I’m leaving a chap or two, of course, to make sure it’s left as it is.’ He leaned back in his chair and sighed. ‘Not that we’re expecting to find much when it’s light. The place will have been trampled by that many feet given that it was the scene of the village’s Guy Fawkes’ festivities.’

  Major Spittlehouse sat on the chair, with his back very straight and erect, aware that the inspector was trying to put him at his ease, but vaguely conscious that Sergeant Bell was seated a little behind him to his left. If he were to turn his head a little, he would see him. The overall impression, however, was that the man was not there. He swallowed hard. The sergeant was present, he must remember that. He would be taking down what he said in shorthand. The major gave an involuntary shudder. He must be careful. He must not be lulled in to believing that everything would be all right and lose his head. He glanced up and saw that the inspector was watching him closely, and when he tilted his head slightly, he caught sight of Lord Belvedere propped up against the mantelpiece, lounging in what the young man probably thought to be a nonchalant manner. To the major, it was anything but, for he saw the alert look in the earl’s eyes, half obscured though it was by a feigned look of indifference. He must be on his guard.

  ‘You have no objection to my being here, do you, old chap?’ enquired Cedric, having promised Rose that he would attend in her enforced absence.

  ‘Not at all, Lord Belvedere,’ said Major Spittlehouse. Only the frown that creased his forehead for a moment suggested otherwise.

  The inspector gathered his papers and proceeded with his preliminary questions. They appeared to the major harmless enough, focusing as they did on how long Masters had been in the major’s employ, and what he knew of the man’s character.