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A Death in the Wedding Party

Page 11

by Caroline Dunford


  ‘You mean you would let justice fail because you don’t want people to know you are not Lord Milford?’

  ‘Who says I am not? This may be my real name.’

  ‘Is it?’

  ‘Some time ago you and Mr MacLeod were kind enough to sign some papers to keep ensure you kept matter that occurred in the Highlands secret.’9

  ‘This is why you wanted to see me?’

  ‘Euphemia, rid yourself of the idea that I have an interest in Lady Stapleford’s death.’ He put up a hand to stop me from retorting. ‘Even if she was murdered, I simply do not care to draw attention to myself, nor do I have any interest in catching a domestic murderer should there actually be one!’

  ‘But Richard Stapleford is involved! You said you wanted to hear of unusual that occurred with the family.’

  ‘I believe that was Mr Edward rather than myself. Now, here I have a copy of what is to be known as the official secrets act. I’d be grateful if you could sign it now.’

  ‘And if I don’t.’

  Fitzroy raised an eyebrow. ‘Do not imagine for one moment that you can blackmail me into helping you solve this mystery.’

  I jumped on this. ‘So you agree there is a mystery!’

  Fitzroy held out a pen to me. ‘Sign.’ I hesitated. ‘You know how efficient I can be. I need all the loose ends of the Highland incident tided.’ He paused. ‘One way or another.’

  In spite of the heat from the sunlight pouring through the glass I found myself shivering.

  ‘Exactly. Now be a good girl.’

  I very much wished I could slap him, but regardless of what title or name he used I knew Fitzroy was no gentleman and would have no qualms about slapping me back or worse. I put my chin up. ‘For King and country,’ I said and signed.

  ‘Well played,’ said the hateful Fitzroy. ‘Knowing when to yield the field is a most important skill. If not the most important skill.’

  ‘If you think I am going to give up trying to find the murderer of Lady Stapleford you are quite mistaken.’

  ‘The police have been called, Euphemia.’

  ‘And we both know how much influence the regular police have in high society, don’t we?’

  ‘Touche. But are you not concerned about your grandfather discovering who you are?’

  ‘Unless you tell him I doubt there will be a problem.’

  Unexpectedly Fitzroy grinned. For a moment his face lit up and he looked almost handsome. ‘Bravo!’ he said. ‘I can tell you this she was poisoned with arsenic.’

  ‘How do you?’

  He crossed the room in three quick strides and put his finger to my lips. ‘No questions. And remember to stay well away from my business.’

  I swallowed and nodded. Fitzroy turned his back to me and went to gather up the papers. ‘I suggest you wait a few moments before exiting the room to ensure no one sees us closeted together. Her Highness’s reputation is damaged enough without daylight trysts under such serious circumstances.’

  ‘I’m surprised you care.’

  ‘Oh, I like her Highness very much,’ said Fitzroy his hand on the door. ‘Take care, Euphemia.’

  A shudder ran through me. If Fitzroy was telling me to take care then things must be serious. I gave myself a mental shake. Everyone was making far too much of a state about this. It was quite simple: we had a murderer in the house, and I had to find him or her. My knees wobbled and I sat down hastily on a chair. And I had done everything to declare I would find him. The enormity of what I had done hit me. I had made myself a target, and this time neither Rory nor Bertram were in a position to help me.

  ______________

  9 See A Death in the Highlands

  Chapter Twenty

  A Policeman’s Lot

  Dinner was a muted affair. Neither Richenda nor Bertram made an appearance. Everyone dutifully made conversation, but the topics of death and weddings were avoided. I learnt a lot about current London fashion and began to feel something of an interest despite myself. By the time the ladies rose to take tea spirits seem to be rising. We were all complicit in denying anything was amiss. I discovered it was a skill at which the upper classes excelled. ‘Life goes on’ was the unspoken motto.

  Surrounded by the ancient wall of The Court I could in some ways understand this. Those present were all part of old families. Families who could trace their lineage back through various wars around the globe where various illustrious family members had lost limbs and lives. But despite whatever disasters befell them the families endured. Everyone took having an heir and spare extremely seriously.

  ‘You’re looking very serious, my dear,’ said the Countess coming to sit by me. ‘And I was so trying to lighten the mood. Rather difficult when one has a body in the pantry.’

  This comment won no answering smile from me. I felt the Countess’s flippancy was wearing thin. She patted my hand. ‘I’m sure Ratty will have it all sorted out by this evening. He’s with the police person now. Then we can all get back to enjoying the wedding. After a quick funeral, of course. Lady Stapleford was French, wasn’t she? Was she Catholic? Would she want bells and smells?’

  ‘I’m sorry, did you say the police were here?’

  ‘Don’t worry, my dear. As I said Ratty is taking care of it all. You won’t have to see them.’

  ‘Excuse me,’ I said rising hastily. ‘I think I need a breath of fresh air.’

  ‘Of course,’ said the Countess. ‘It is quite close in here. If you go along the west walk you should find the lilacs are in flower. They should smell divine tonight.’

  I intercepted Robbins on his way to deliver further port to the dining room. ‘Where is the Earl?’

  ‘He is currently closeted with the police people, ma’am.’

  ‘I know that, but where?’

  Robbins’s white eyebrows rose and there was a little pause. This was doubtless the closest he got to questioning a guest. ‘I believe he is in his study.’

  Two could play the waiting game, so I stood my ground.

  ‘It is the third door on the left in the old east wing corridor,’ Robbins finally gave up. ‘I believe he does not wish to be disturbed at present. Do the ladies require more tea? I would be more than happy to send one of the maids to attend to it.’

  ‘What an excellent idea,’ I said. Then I made my way quickly to the Earl’s study before Robbins could get away to warn his master of my upcoming intrusion.

  Whether one knocks, or not, before entering a room you know to be occupied, or not is a question that often confounds new staff and guests who aren’t used to staying in great houses.

  The answer is you never knock. If you intend to do something indiscreet or private in a room then there are ways of telegraphing this to your staff and a good butler should always anticipate such circumstances. If you have to knock, then you shouldn’t be entering the room, is the basic answer. Therefore I acted like royalty, who of course have a right to go anywhere they please, and walked straight into the Earl’s little conference.

  Ratty sat behind a vast desk. Threep stood behind him and opposite on a small padded wooden chair sat a man in a long, plain, brown coat that the Earl wouldn’t have given to his dog to lie on. He was a tall man and had folded uncomfortably into the chair. He clutched his hat between two shovel like hands. When I entered he was leaning forward, while the Earl sat back in his seat very much at his ease.

  I walked straight into the room. The Earl hesitated for a moment and then rose as he should to acknowledge my presence. ‘Good Evening,’ I said addressing the room. ‘I have just been informed the police have arrived and I thought as one of the few who has witnessed the original scene my testimony might be helpful.’10

  ‘And you are?’ said the policeman unfolding himself from his chair to the extent his head almost touched the low ceiling of this old room.

  I looked at the Earl. He coughed uncomfortably, but introduced me. The policeman bowed slightly. ‘My wife will be amazed,’ he said with a slow smile. I co
uld see the Earl give a little grimace of distaste, but as I looked into the policeman’s large brown eyes I had the fancy I saw shrewd intelligence there. ‘Might I offer you my seat, ma’am?’ he said.

  ‘Thank you, no,’ I said. ‘It looks most uncomfortable.’

  ‘A lady of great insight,’ replied the Policeman.

  ‘We are almost finished,’ said Ratty, attempting to head me off at the pass. ‘We do not need to remind you of the sorry affairs this morning nor soil your ears with the details.’

  ‘My ears are made of strong stuff, as is the rest of me,’ I said. ‘Perhaps, Threep, you could move the other chair from the corner for me to sit on?’

  Threep glanced at the Earl, who remained standing and was doing his best craggy expression, and myself tall and cool. As a doctor he doubtless understood that in nature the female is more deadly than the male, or maybe it was simply my supposed superior standing, but I got my chair and everyone was seated once more.

  ‘Now Inspector is it? What point had you reached?’

  ‘Chief Inspector Brownly, Ma’am. The Earl here informing me that the deceased, Lady Stapleford, was of a delicate constitution and found the consuming of oysters difficult to digest, but was sadly too polite to say so.’

  ‘Then how does he know?’ I challenged.

  The inspector threw me a surprised, but grateful look.

  ‘Her distant cousin, Renard Layfette, was able to give me the details,’ said the Earl. His face and neck were absolutely rigid and his speech the most clipped I had ever heard. Here was a man unused to being challenged.

  ‘But Renard was at the dining table. Surely, he would have noticed and said something? He was seated next to me and we had a clear view of Lady Stapleford.’

  ‘Apparently,’ said the Earl, ‘he was too beguiled by his dinner companion to notice.’ He turned to the chief inspector. ‘Of course he regrets this bitterly, but is happy to give a written statement to you, Chief Inspector.’

  ‘Renard Layfette has been out of the country for many years,’ I said. ‘This is his first return to England.’

  ‘I believe,’ said the Earl with a look so angry I was surprised his eyebrows didn’t burst into flames, that it is an indisposition that stems from childhood.’

  I gave a light laugh. ‘I know Lady Stapleford was part French, but nevertheless it seems unlikely that any decent nursery nurse would give their young charges oysters.’

  ‘Nevertheless,’ began the Earl.

  ‘Beside, surely the person to check this allergy with is her son, Bertram.’

  ‘He is too upset,’ said the Earl through gritted teeth.

  ‘To speak to the police about the murder of his mother?’ I asked.

  ‘Murder?’ said Brownly. ‘No one has suggested anything of the sort, Ma’am. I assure you.’

  ‘But it is what I am suggesting, Chief Inspector. When Rory McLeod, the butler from Stapleford Hall, opened the door to Lady Stapleford’s bedchamber in the presence of Mrs Merion, the housekeeper and myself, Lady Stapleford’s body was contorted in pain and the room was in considerable disarray.’

  ‘All pointing to death by reaction to food, eh doctor?’ said the Earl.

  ‘Um,’ said Threep.

  ‘Then explain the empty cup on the floor? The saucer was broken, but the cup in which was presented the bedtime drink was drunk dry. A woman already in the throes of distress from a food allergy would not be likely to drain such a drink, would she, doctor?’

  ‘It depends,’ said Threep, edging back towards the window with a hunted expression on his face.

  ‘Could it not also be that her demeanour and the amount of vomit present in the room could also be indicative of arsenic poisoning?’ I turned to the inspector. ‘I once had a cat that ate some poison which had been left out for the rats.’

  ‘Lady Stapleford was not a cat!’ said the Earl. ‘This is nonsense.’

  ‘No, she was a human being and thus a mammal. One might expect similar symptoms.’

  ‘If there is any doubt,’ said Brownly, ‘I will have to ask for an autopsy.’

  ‘We do not cut up our dead,’ said the Earl springing to his feet. ‘Let me make that quite clear.’

  ‘She isn’t actually a member of your family,’ I said. ‘As far as I am aware she is only related to you in the sense that most of the noble households of England and France are distantly related. Very distantly.’

  ‘I think I should speak to her son after all, your grace,’ said Brownly. The Earl opened his mouth to speak. The police inspector also rose. ‘I am afraid I must insist.’

  The Earl sank back down into his chair. ‘Ring the bell, Threep, and summon Robbins. It seems we have to disturb the grieving son.’

  Robbins came in with an apologetic look on his rather akin to an ancient Labrador that been digging up the prize flowerbeds. ‘I believe Mr Bertram Stapleford is in the pantry,’ he said grimly. ‘Sitting with his mother.’

  ‘Coldest place in the house,’ said Threep to Brownly.

  ‘It can’t be helped,’ said the Earl. ‘The chief inspector wishes to speak to him. I think the word he used was ‘insisted’.’

  ‘Certainly, Your Grace.’

  An uneasy silence settled in the room. Brownly turned his hat over and over in hands. The Earl harrumphed into his moustache and Threep tried unsuccessfully to perch on the windowsill. It was small and hard and he had to, as it were, keep turning the other cheek.

  The door flew open and Bertram stormed in. His hair was wildly out of place, his eyes red and his face a sick greyish pallor. It looked as if he had slept in his suit and perhaps he had.

  ‘You are the police?’ he said addressing Brownly.

  ‘Chief Inspector Brow–’

  Bertram cut him off. ‘Then I want to know what the devil you think you’re about!’

  The Earl stood. ‘My dear chap, I am so sorry. Threep, get Mr Stapleford a seat.’

  The doctor looked around the small room helplessly.

  ‘I don’t need a seat,’ snapped Bertram. ‘I want to know what’s going on.’

  The Earl put out his hands in a placating manner. ‘Just a small misunderstanding,’ he said. ‘The chief inspector and I were about to agree this was an unfortunate reaction to the oysters when her Highness here came in and claimed it was murder.’

  ‘What?’ said Bertram, his head whipping round to face me, an intense expression in his brown eyes.

  ‘I know, dear fellow. I know,’ said the Earl. He lowered his voice, so he could pretend I wouldn’t hear though we both knew I would, ‘Young women can be prone to these fantasies.’

  Bertram’s eyes met my squarely. ‘Fantasies,’ he cried. ‘Of course my mother was bloody murdered! Euphemia was right!’

  ‘And who is this Euphemia?’ asked Brownly.

  ‘I have no idea,’ said the Earl. Slowly, everyone’s gaze turned towards me.

  ______________

  10 The observant Reader will notice I did not introduce myself. A lady never introduces herself and it would never occur to a member of royalty that someone did not know who they were. I may appear unspeakably rude, but I am only playing my part.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Of Cats, Rats and Dowagers

  ‘A maid,’ I said. ‘A maid from Stapleford Hall.’

  ‘Ring the bell, Threep, and we’ll get Robbins to get this well-informed maid in here.’

  Bertram rolled his eyes at me helplessly.

  ‘You’ll have to get him to ask for Merry,’ I said, thinking on my feet, ‘She’s called that for short.’

  ‘I should think so,’ said the Earl. ‘No decent household would hire a maid called Euphemia. Most unsuitable.’

  All too quickly Merry was brought into the room. As usual she seemed to shrink when surrounded by the people from upstairs. She bobbed a curtsey to the Earl, but edged subtly my way. I guessed she wanted moral support I wanted to be able to whisper to her.

  ‘I understand you found Lady Staplefo
rd,’ said the Earl not even bothering with her name.

  ‘Yes, your Grace,’ said Merry in restrained voice.

  ‘And you were the one who first cried murder? That is correct, isn’t it Euphemia?’

  Merry whirled to face me. Her eyes were wide as saucers. ‘Don’t be concerned, Euphemia,’ I said. ‘The Earl only wants to know the truth.’

  ‘The truth!’ said Merry looking for all the world as if someone had smacked her in the head with a kipper.

  ‘Why you thought her Ladyship had been murdered,’ said Bertram.

  Merry’s eyes went even wider until I was sure they were in danger of popping out. Then she took a deep breath, shot me a look of pure malice and turned back to face the Earl. ‘That would be the rats, sir.’

  ‘Rats?’ said Brownly.

  Merry, who had managed not to notice the overly large policeman crouched in the chair, rocked backwards. He gave her a friendly smile. The edges of Merry’s mouth lifted slightly. ‘Yes rats. I were brought up on my uncle’s farm, seeing as there were too many of us for Ma to keep in London, and he were always putting it down for the rats. Arsenic. Affects creatures very cruelly I think.’ Her voice became a little stronger at the end. Merry was at her most forthright when expressing her opinions.

  ‘Rats! Cats!’ spluttered the Earl. ‘Surely young woman you are not comparing Lady Stapleford to a rat?’

  I could almost see the hackles on Merry’s back rising, so I interrupted before she could utter some of her more liberal views. ‘Isn’t this for the doctor to judge?’

  ‘Well, Dr Threep, could the symptoms both these young ladies have been describing be caused by arsenic poisoning?’ asked Chief Inspector Brownly.

  The doctor stuck a finger under his collar and pulled. His glasses made another bid to escape and he only just caught them in time.

  ‘Well, Doctor,’ said the Earl.

  ‘Yes, Doctor, what is your opinion?’ asked Bertram.

  ‘Er,’ said Threep, ‘I couldn’t be sure unless I did an autopsy and Lord Stapleford has assured me that will not be happening.’

 

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