‘Well, it stands to reason, doesn’t it?’ The librarian looked astonished that Rose was not following her train of thought. ‘She meant to do mischief. Of course, one tries not to listen to gossip, but I’m afraid it’s inevitable that one hears things in a library. People can’t help talking when they are supposed to be quiet.’ She leaned forward slightly and lowered her voice to just above a whisper. ‘Apparently, Major Spittlehouse doesn’t much care for her young man and she’s dependent on her brother’s charity because she doesn’t have any money of her own.’
‘I’m afraid I don’t quite follow what you are saying,’ said Rose. ‘Are you suggesting that Miss Spittlehouse is trying to poison her brother on the basis that she has read a few books on the subject?’
‘Well, I admit it sounds a little far-fetched when you put it like that,’ said Miss Warren, rather apologetically. ‘But when you consider what happened. Oh, I’ve been ever so worried. I tried to warn the major that his life might be in danger but –’
‘When was this?’ Rose said rather sharply.
‘It was on the night of the bonfire. I took the books from the library. Ever so guilty I felt doing it, what with my position and all. But I didn’t think he’d believe me unless I showed him the books. Of course, I’ve put them all back now but –’
‘Wait a moment,’ said Rose, putting up a gloved hand. ‘Are you telling me that you tried to warn Major Spittlehouse before the murder? I can understand why you might have been a little concerned after you had heard of the death of his servant, but before …’ She stared intently at Miss Warren, who took a step back under such scrutiny. ‘Why were you so worried about the major’s safety? It can’t just be because of a couple of books Miss Spittlehouse was reading. Is there something else you’re not telling me?’
‘No, of course not,’ said Miss Warren, her cheeks glowing red.
Rose was quite positive that the woman was lying. She was equally certain, however, that to press her further would be to no avail. Resigned to the fact, she decided to change tack.
‘You said just now that you tried to warn Major Spittlehouse. Does that mean that you didn’t actually manage to speak with him?’
‘No. I thought I might have a word with him by the bonfire before the festivities began. I thought he’d be there early. I mean, I couldn’t very well call on him at Green Gables, could I? His sister would have been there. Oh, it would all have been very awkward.’ Miss Warren gave a wistful frown. ‘But fate was against me, I’m afraid. First the bus was late and then one of the wheels developed a puncture.’
Rose had only been half listening to what Miss Warren was saying. Now, however, she gave the woman her full attention.
‘Do you happen to remember seeing Miss Spittlehouse’s young man on the bus?’
‘Mr Mayhew? Oh, yes, I do. Such a delightful young man, and so very handsome.’
‘Yes, isn’t he?’ Rose paused a moment before she added: ‘I suppose you all waited on the bus while the wheel was changed?’
‘Well, yes we did. And a very long time it took too because –’
‘I suppose Mr Mayhew waited?’
‘Mr Mayhew? Oh, no, he didn’t stay. We were only a mile or so from Sedgwick, you see. He and some of the other young people decided to make the rest of the journey on foot.’
‘Where are we going, m’lady?’ asked Edna, rather breathlessly, for she was almost running in an attempt to keep up with her mistress, who was walking very fast indeed.
‘I need to speak with Archie Mayhew, Edna. I need to find out why he lied to the inspector,’ said Rose and then she stopped so sharply and abruptly, that her lady’s maid almost collided with her. ‘No … that is not strictly true. He didn’t actually lie, but neither did he tell the whole truth. He allowed Miss Spittlehouse to lie for him. He made no effort to contradict what she said, even though he knew it wasn’t true.’
‘But why would Miss Spittlehouse lie?’ asked Edna, visibly shocked at such a suggestion. ‘And to the police too. You’d think the likes of her would know better.’
‘I think she was trying to protect Mr Mayhew. Or perhaps she really believed she was telling the truth. Now, if we could only find the firm of solicitors where Mr Mayhew works … oh, look, here it is.’ They had come to a glass fronted building with the words ‘Gribble, Hebborn & Whittaker Solicitors’ emblazoned proudly in gold letters on the glass panel of the door. ‘I thought it would be located in the main street, and I was right. Oh, and I can see Mr Mayhew sitting behind the desk in the corner. Look, Edna.’
‘Cor, he’s awfully handsome, isn’t he, miss?’
‘Yes, he is rather good-looking.’
Rose took a deep breath and opened the door. She felt very much as if she were trespassing, though she reminded herself that her reception was likely to be a warm one now that she had risen in society.
On entering the establishment, she found herself in a large office occupied by a handful of gentlemen who were presumably solicitors or articled clerks. Presiding over them all was a rather formidable looking woman with iron grey hair, stationed behind the largest of the wooden desks. The woman loomed over an enormous typewriter, very much in the way she might have stood behind a lectern; certainly she appeared to be in charge and directing matters, for it was she, rather than any of the gentlemen, who came forward and greeted Rose as she hovered on the threshold.
‘Lady Belvedere. May I say what a very great pleasure …’
Miss Simmons’ words drifted over Rose’s head as if they had been uttered to someone else. For Rose was hardly listening to a word the woman said to her, her attention instead being directed towards Archie Mayhew. She was particularly interested to witness his reaction to her unexpected arrival at his place of work. Even as she looked on, the young man appeared to be recoiling from her, for his body was thrust against the back of his seat as far as it could go, reminding her of when he had sat before the inspector, looking for all the world as if he wished the back of the chair would open up and swallow him. She caught his eye and a look passed between them. He paled slightly but he came forward, as if she were dragging him to her via an invisible cord.
‘Lady Belvedere, how very good of you to come.’ Archie Mayhew gave her a very fleeting smile before turning to Mr Whittaker’s secretary. ‘Miss Simmons, her ladyship has come to see me on a matter of business on the recommendation of a mutual friend.’
‘Oh indeed, said Rose, playing along. ‘Daphne speaks of you in the most glowing of terms, Mr Mayhew.’
‘Perhaps we might make use of Mr Whittaker’s office, Miss Simmons? I happen to know he is out visiting a client.’ Archie did not wait for an answer; already he was ushering Rose to a door just beyond Miss Simmons’ desk. ‘This way if you please, Lady Belvedere.’
By this means, Miss Simmons was effectively brushed aside and Rose and Edna steered into Mr Whittaker’s office, the door shut firmly behind them.
‘How very well done, Mr Mayhew,’ said Rose, taking the chair Archie indicated. She noticed his hand was shaking.
The young man himself looked distinctly harried, his air of decisiveness having diminished now that they were no longer in the outer office. He began to pace the room in something of a restive manner, while Edna positioned herself at the door, as if she thought there might be the need for a hasty retreat.
‘Please do sit down, Mr Mayhew. You are making me feel quite giddy,’ began Rose. ‘Now, I should like to ask you one or two questions,’ she continued without preamble, ‘and I would be immensely grateful if you would answer them truthfully.’
‘Look here, Lady Belvedere,’ said Archie abruptly, turning to face her. ‘I don’t want to throw a scene, and I daresay you will think I am speaking out of turn, but I don’t see why I should answer any of your questions at all. Goodness knows I’ve already had a good grilling by the inspector. Really, I have nothing further to add to my statement.’
‘You realise then that I am here to ask you questions about the mu
rder?’
Archie glared and cursed himself silently. He passed a hand through his hair and sat down.
‘I daresay you were rather surprised at my being present when the police interviewed you yesterday?’
Archie grunted and said rather irritably: ‘Daphne says you are an amateur sleuth.’
‘I am,’ admitted Rose, a trifle self-consciously. ‘And the inspector has requested that I assist him with his investigation.’
‘I see.’
‘Do you? I hope so. You see, Mr Mayhew, it was quite obvious to me yesterday that you were lying. No,’ Rose held up a gloved hand as Archie made to protest, ‘that isn’t quite fair. I don’t think you actually lied, but you certainly didn’t tell the whole truth, and you permitted Daphne to lie on your behalf, without correcting what she was saying, which is perhaps a little worse.’
Archie swallowed hard. ‘Daphne didn’t know –’
‘The truth? No, I don’t believe she did.’
‘I really have nothing further to say, either to you or to the inspector.’ Archie got up from his chair and began to pace the room again.
‘I strongly recommend that you tell me the truth, Mr Mayhew,’ said Rose, watching him closely. ‘If you are innocent, you have nothing to fear.’
There was a moment of unbearable silence. Even Edna waited with bated breath, wondering what the young man was going to do.
‘Oh, all right,’ said Archie, after a few moments’ hesitation. ‘Lord knows I haven’t had a wink of sleep since it happened.’ He flung himself down on to the chair on the other side of the desk in something of a resigned fashion. ‘What would you like to know?’
‘I have a theory,’ said Rose. ‘Perhaps you could tell me if I am correct?’
‘All right,’ said Archie. The colour had left his cheeks and he was clutching the edge of the desk so hard that his knuckles showed white.
‘On the night of the murder you took a bus from Bichester to Sedgwick. During the course of the journey one of the wheels suffered a puncture. But, instead of waiting for the wheel to be changed, I have a witness who says she saw you set out on foot to walk the rest of the way to Sedgwick.’
‘Oh.’
‘You don’t deny it?’
‘No, why should I? I walked to Sedgwick all right and went to Tucker’s Wood too. And before you ask,’ Archie paused a moment to take a deep breath, ‘I didn’t kill anybody, and I didn’t see anyone being murdered.’
‘No,’ agreed Rose, ‘but you did discover the body. You stumbled on it in Tucker’s Wood, didn’t you?’
Chapter Twenty-nine
Archie nodded dully. It appeared he was unable to speak.
‘It must have been a frightful shock,’ Rose said gently.
‘I should say!’ exclaimed Archie, when he could talk. ‘I was pretty shaken up about it, I can tell you. You see, I was fairly certain it was Major Spittlehouse. Of course, I didn’t look at the face properly, but I recognised his jacket; it was a ghastly old tweed thing.’ Archie was speaking rapidly now. ‘I could see he was dead, and all I could think was …’ He faltered and bit his lip.
‘That Daphne had killed him?’
‘Yes. I couldn’t think about anything else except that I must move the body. It was very stupid of me, I know, but I was certain the police would discover that Daphne and I had arranged to meet in Tucker’s Wood.’ He laughed without mirth. ‘Why, I even told them so myself! Anyway, I was obsessed by the notion that they shouldn’t find the body there. I suppose I had worked myself up into a blue funk over the whole business.’
‘So you dragged the body, or half carried it, to the nearest place you could think of, which happened to be the bonfire site?’
‘Yes.’ He looked at her earnestly. ‘I swear I didn’t intend for it to be mistaken for one of the guys. I thought I could prop it up somehow. What with all the people who would be milling around to see the fireworks, I thought it might be lost in the crowd and not found until the next morning when they were clearing up all the debris from the festivities.’
‘But then you discovered that the corpse wasn’t Major Spittlehouse?’
‘Yes. Daphne telephoned me the next morning and told me that her servant had been murdered. I couldn’t take it in at first. I thought it must mean there were two bodies.’ He held his head in his hands. ‘It gave me a frightful shock I can tell you, when I realised the truth. I almost went to pieces.’
‘Because you knew Daphne couldn’t be the murderer?’
‘Yes. She wouldn’t have made such a stupid mistake. The murderer had to be someone else, who didn’t know the major very well, and I had aided him by moving the body.’ Archie lifted his head and stared up at Rose with a look of desperation in his eyes. ‘What could I do? If I came forward and told the police what I had done, they would have thought me at best an accessory after the fact, and at worst the murderer. There was really nothing I could do except keep quiet.’
‘Do you believe him, m’lady?’ asked Edna, as she and her mistress made their way back to the Daimler, where the chauffeur was waiting for them.
‘That he found the body as he described? Yes, I think so.’
Though it was still quite possible, thought Rose, that Archie Mayhew had killed the servant in mistake for the major, prior to moving the body. If that were the case, he was also the author of the anonymous letters, or at the very least an accomplice, for it was those that had lured Masters to Tucker’s Wood. Yet, if that were the case, would Archie have admitted coming across the body as he had? And he needn’t have mentioned Tucker’s Wood at all to the police. And what of Miss Warren’s behaviour? How very fanciful the woman seemed. Rose wondered whether her days were so deathly dull that she had to conjure up conspiracies and plots where there were none. Yet she had been right to be worried, she reminded herself, for there had been a murder.
All these thoughts were still circulating in Rose’s head as they drove back to Sedgwick. She had discovered bits and pieces of the jigsaw, but they had still to come together to form a picture. Frustrated, she allowed her thoughts to drift back to the previous night and Chalky White’s colourful stories that had had them all in stitches. The memory brought a smile to her face. What a pity Chalky … she uttered an exclamation. How very stupid she’d been. It was so very obvious when one thought about it. It had been staring her in the face all morning …
She leaned forward and tapped the chauffeur sharply on the shoulder. Her voice when she spoke had a note of urgency. ‘Adams, please stop the car. We need to go back. We need to go back to Bichester.’
Miss Warren was just locking up her establishment. It being a Saturday, the library, like most of the other shops and businesses in Bichester, closed at lunchtime. Indeed, if she had happened to glance further down the street, she would have seen Archie Mayhew setting off for his lodgings. She did not, however, look about her, for she was too concerned with her own worries to be aware of anything else.
Much as she tried, she could not rid herself of the thought that she should never have spoken to Lady Belvedere. It had been a dreadful mistake. She thought she was … well, never mind what she had thought she was doing. The countess had been suspicious of her as soon as she had opened her mouth. But she had also been very kind. She stifled a sob. Something made her look up. It might have been the sound of hurrying footsteps, or perhaps someone had even called out her name. Whatever it was, she found herself staring into the face of the amateur sleuth. She tried to remind herself that she needn’t be frightened. This was the woman who had commented favourably on her makeshift kitchen and not found it wanting. Nevertheless, the bunch of keys she had been holding slipped from her fingers and crashed on to the steps with a dull, metallic sound. Much to her chagrin, she found that tears were streaming down her face, and it occurred to her that, once started, they might never stop.
‘It’s you,’ said Rose stepping forward. ‘It was you, wasn’t it?’ She paused to retrieve the fallen keys. ‘You wrote those anon
ymous letters, didn’t you?’ You sent them to Major Spittlehouse because you wanted to find out what had happened. You wanted to find out what had happened to Bunny Warren.’
They set off again for Sedgwick. This time Miss Warren was with them, seated beside Rose in the back of the Daimler, her bag resting on her knees. She clutched it to her, in much the same manner as she had done on the bus. Edna sat in the front with the chauffeur, finding it hard to contain her excitement. An uneasy quietness prevailed in the car. Everyone was inclined to talk, but no one wanted to be responsible for breaking the silence. Instead, they all sat waiting impatiently for something to happen.
As they approached the outskirts of the village, Rose leaned forward and requested that the chauffeur drive to Green Gables. Edna turned in her seat and gave her mistress a look of surprise, but otherwise said nothing. When they arrived at their destination Rose said: ‘Edna, I should like you to drive back to Sedgwick Court with Adams. As soon as you arrive, please speak to Mr Manning and ask that he telephone to Inspector Newcombe and request that he come to Green Gables.’ She paused a moment to glance at Miss Warren, who was weeping quietly. ‘You had better tell him that he will be required to make an arrest.’
‘To do with them letters, m’lady?’ exclaimed Edna, staring at the librarian suspiciously.
‘No,’ said Rose firmly. ‘To do with the murder of Mr Masters and … and someone else.’
Biddy opened the door to Rose and Miss Warren. If she was surprised to see them, she did not show it. Instead she said: ‘Is Miss Spittlehouse expecting you, m’lady?’
‘No she isn’t,’ said Rose quickly. ‘And it isn’t her we have come to see, it’s the major. Where is he? Is he in his study?’
‘Yes, he is m’lady. But he won’t want to be disturbed, ever so cross he’ll be.’
‘Well, I’m afraid that can’t be helped. Don’t worry Biddy, we’ll make our own way. It is just across the hall, isn’t it? Oh, before you go, Biddy, there is just one thing …’ Rose leaned forward and whispered something in the maid’s ear, which Miss Warren didn’t quite catch.
Murder on Bonfire Night Page 28
