‘That’s my decision not his,’ said the chief inspector, rising to his full height. ‘Now give us your answer.’
The unfortunate doctor slumped against the window. ‘It’s possible,’ he said.
‘Threep,’ snapped the Earl.
‘I simply can’t tell,’ said the doctor, ‘without an autopsy.’
The chief inspector turned his attention to Bertram. ‘You, sir, also seem to believe it was murder. Do you have any suggestions as to who might have been your mother’s assailant or even why she might have attracted the attentions of a poisoner?’
‘I have no idea how the mind of a poisoner might work,’ snapped Bertram. ‘If you’re asking me did my mother have any enemies present in this house I am aware she and her cousin Renard Layfette have a long running feud since before my birth.’
‘This would be the same Layfette as you was offering to sign a document that Lady Stapleford was allergic to oysters, Your Grace?’ asked Brownly.
‘Rubbish!’ cried Bertram. ‘My mother is part French. She has eaten oysters all her life!’
Chief Inspector Brownly took a step towards the Earl’s desk. ‘It seems to me that this matter is not as clear-cut as was first assumed. I shall send a police ambulance to take Lady Stapleford’s body away and request the coroner to issue an order for an autopsy. Can I ask that no one leaves the Court, neither family nor staff, nor the guests. As it is quite late tonight I shall return tomorrow with my sergeant and we will began conducting interviews so this event can be cleared up as quickly as possible.’
‘I shall telephone the Chief Constable!’ declared the Earl.
‘Please do so, your Grace,’ said Brownly. ‘I shall be speaking to him myself.’ He put his hat back on his head, nodded to the assembled company and asked Robbins if he would be so kind as to show him the way to the exit. Robbins complied if for no other reason than to get away from the Earl whose face was turning puce with rage.
As soon as they had departed the Earl shouted at Merry, ‘Get back to your work, girl. I will be speaking to your master.’ Merry picked up her skirts and fled. ‘And as for you Threep, call yourself a doctor? You’re a quack. A tuppenny-ha’penny saw bones. I’ll see you never work in this area again. You idiot of a man. You scraggy good for nothing … These people are going to hanging around my house for days now and we’ve still got that damn blasted wedding.’
Bertram coughed loudly. ‘I am sorry my mother’s death has put you to so much inconvenience, Your Grace,’ he said in an icy voice. ‘Rest assured I want my mother away from the Court and safely home in our chapel as soon as possible. However, I will not stand by and let her murderer go free in order to allow your celebrations to go unhindered. With reflection I am sure you will appreciate my point of view!’ And so saying he turned his back to the Earl and offered me his arm. I was more than happy to make my escape by his side.
Chapter Twenty-two
For Whom the Bell Didn’t Toll
Bertram kept up a smart pace until we gained the terrace. Tactfully I steered him along the west walk. The clouds above us burned with a rosy glow from the dying light of the sun and the scent of lilacs was indeed heady in the air. The grassy terrace rolled away to our west and in the distance we could hear the sweet sound of the fountain. In other circumstances it would have been a most wonderful and possibly romantic evening, but beside me I could feel Bertram trembling with rage.
‘I am so sorry,’ I said.
Bertram stopped and turned to face me. ‘I owe you an apology, Euphemia. I should never have questioned your judgment.’
‘You were in shock. And quite naturally so.’
Bertram made his way to a seat under a weeping willow and handed me into a seat. I could hardly see the house and I realised he had done this deliberately. My heart, usually a reliable organ, began to run somewhat faster.
‘I did not wish to think anyone could so dislike Mama that they might actually do her harm,’ said Bertram.
‘No, of course not,’ I said gently.
‘Will you stop interrupting, Euphemia,’ said Bertram shortly, quite in his old style. This drew an involuntarily smile from me. Bertram broke into a grin. ‘You were far easier to handle as a housekeeper. Not that you were that easy then either,’ he said. ‘Now, you’re royalty …’
‘I’m still Euphemia St John.’
‘I don’t know,’ said Bertram. His eyes appraised me, not in the way Richard Stapleford might, but as one seeing an old friend in a new guise. ‘You play the part of the lady as if you were born to it. Who were your parents? You have never told me.’
‘My father was a country vicar,’ I said. ‘My mother had some,’ I paused trying to think of the right word, ‘connections. It was her aim to teach me to behave like a lady. Quite out of my station.’
‘She did a bloody good job,’ said Bertram frankly. ‘If I’d never met you before I wouldn’t question twice that you were this high-fluting friend of Richenda’s. Though I’m afraid that’s all going to come out now.’
‘I hope not,’ I said. ‘It would be disastrous for Richenda and her wedding as much as myself. I had hoped that I might be able to solve the crime before any awkward questions were asked.’
Bertram began to laugh. It started as a slow chuckle, but within a few minutes he had flung back his head and given way to mirth. I began to fear he had become hysterical and was summoning the courage to slap him, when he suddenly sat upright and wiped the tears from his eyes. ‘Has anyone ever told you, Euphemia, that you are one in a million. No, one in a trillion!’
‘I believe I am a little out of the norm,’ I said as graciously as I could.
Bertram put his hand on my arm. ‘Don’t! Don’t,’ he said. ‘You’ll set me off again. Now you must have a plan of action. What is it?’
‘Not so much a plan, as I’ve been going over things again and again in my mind and some pieces don’t add up.’
‘Explain,’ demanded Bertram, giving me his full attention.
‘Well, Merry is checking who delivered the bed time drinks and how they were delivered. It seems the maid who is often assigned to our corridor, Lucy, is very shy and has been known to leave drinks outside the door.’
‘Where anyone might tamper with them,’ said Bertram.
‘Exactly. We know that your mother, Richenda and I had all retired to bed before many of the men.’
‘Richard and Tipton had that awful row in the billiard room.’
‘When was that?’ I asked. ‘Because Tipton came by our rooms, very drunk and making some silly remarks about the wedding. He even invited Merry to spend one of his last nights of freedom with him.’
‘He must have been three sheets to the wind,’ said Bertram. ‘Was Richenda in the room?’
‘I said he was drunk, not an imbecile.’
Bertram acknowledged this with a wry twist of his lips. ‘I would guess then that he came down and got into the argument later. I wonder why he didn’t simply head off to bed?’
‘Something must have happened,’ I said. ‘Something must have made him feel that he had to search out Richard there and then.’
‘What on Earth could be that urgent,’ said Bertram.
‘Don’t men in their cups often think the most ridiculous things are urgent?’
‘Yes.’ Bertram sighed. ‘And while he isn’t exactly an imbecile, Tipton is not that smart.’
‘But all this conjecture, though worth considering, only comes together when Merry gets the information on the drinks delivery.’
‘When will that be?’
‘I’m hoping when she comes to my room tonight.’
Bertram nodded. ‘I shall do my best to get there discreetly.’
Several comments came to the tip of my tongue, but this was Bertram’s mother and I could hardly shut him out of my investigations. Besides we had worked well as a team before. ‘There is one thing that has been bothering me,’ I said. ‘Why didn’t your mother ring the bell when she felt herself bec
oming ill?’
‘Perhaps she was in too much pain,’ said Bertram, his eyes clouding.
‘It’s right beside the bed.’
‘You think no one answered?’ said Bertram shocked.
‘As I understand the servants are shut in, locked in, to a separate part of the building that is only connected by a single corridor.’
‘No,’ said Bertram, ‘the servants wouldn’t have retired to their section of the house while so many guests were around. What’s more, the bells run across to their quarters, and even if that didn’t work Robbins stays on this side. All the bells are routed past him at night, so he, at least, would have heard it.’
‘Is he a sound sleeper?’
‘You can be assured that the Earl makes sure his bells are loud,’ said Bertram.
‘Then the other reason she couldn’t have summoned help,’ I said.
‘Would be if the bell had been disconnected,’ finished Bertram.
We looked at each other. ‘Rory has the key to the bedroom,’ I said.
‘But how do we know that’s the only key?’ asked Bertram. ‘Most houses this large have spares or even master keys.’
‘We need to check that room now,’ I said, ‘before anyone gets a chance to undo their handy work.’
‘I agree. If the bell isn’t working then it’s more weight to our suspicion that my mother was murdered.’
I stood up. ‘Let’s go and find Rory,’ I said.
Chapter Twenty-three
Man and Master
‘No, I will go into the house and summon Robbins, who will send Rory out to meet us in the west walk,’ said Bertram.
‘But wouldn’t it be quicker …’ I began.
‘He’s a servant, Euphemia and you are a lady. There is no question of you chasing after a manservant, let alone going below stairs to find him.’
‘Won’t Robbins think it odd?’
‘Robbins is paid an excellent wage to serve, not think. This is how servants normally operate.’
I was left alone wondering how my future husband was going to take to being summoned to meet Bertram and I in the shrubbery. How I could ever face Robbins again I simply did not know. There are times when I am very grateful that we have not developed the ability to read one another’s minds. I allow it might be useful discovering truth but the endless mortification makes that a doubtful positive.
Bertram returned quickly. He was breathing heavily. I bade him sit down and recover himself, and crossed my fingers that Rory would not arrive before he had recovered his composure.
Luck was not on my side Rory appeared running across the terrace from the house. He was by my side in moments.
‘What’s wrong?’ he asked me. Then he noticed the panting Bertram, not at my feet, but on the seat beside me. ‘Euphemia?’ he queried, turning my name into a suspicious and angry enquiry.
‘Good, McLeod, you’re here,’ said Bertram. ‘We need your help.’
‘Indeed, sir,’ said Rory, rolling his Rs in an alarming manner.
‘Sorry,’ said Bertram, ‘you’ll need to give me a moment to catch my breath.’ He pressed his hand to his chest and inhaled deeply. I sat down beside him at once. ‘Are you quite well, Bertram?’ I asked. He gave me a small smile through his laboured breathing. ‘I think recent events have taken it out of me a bit. Got a bit of a dodgy ticker.’
‘Then perhaps you should be more careful in the activities you indulge in – sir,’ said Rory.
I stood heavily on his foot. ‘Mr Bertram and I have discussing his mother’s murder. We believe that the bell in the room may have been tampered with. Do you still have the key to the room?’
‘Aye, Mrs Merion wanted it back, but I only had to mention that the police would be wanting a word when she decided it would it be better for a man to have it, and especially a man from the Stapleford household.’
‘Very clever,’ said Bertram. His breathing was easing now. ‘Do you know if there are any other keys for the same room?’
‘I asked,’ said Rory, ‘Mrs Merion seemed unsure. The wing you are referring to is part of the oldest section of the building.’
‘So there have been keys knocking around for longer than she has been in post,’ I said. ‘I’m always surprised that these sorts of old houses are not burgled more often, they have such a lackaday attitude to security.’ Rory gave me a funny look.
‘Will you accompany us to the room, McLeod,’ said Bertram. ‘We need to check if the bell is working.’
‘Then you’d better take the key and I’ll head down the servants quarters to see if it rings. Give me ten minutes then ring. I’ll come up to the room and tell you what’s happened.’ Bertram grew a shade paler, but nodded.
We arrived outside the room and were immediately aware of a gentle snoring sound. ‘Can Richenda still be asleep?’ I asked. ‘Dr Threep gave her a sedative, but that was hours ago.’ Bertram’s hand was shaking as he fitted the key into the lock. ‘I damn well hope it’s her. I don’t fancy being haunted by my mother’s ghost. She had a devil of a temper.’
I checked up and down the corridor. It was empty. We stepped inside and closed the door behind us. I immediately noticed the smell of lavender: as well as removing the bedding, the whole room had been thoroughly cleaned. Lady Stapleford’s cases rested at the foot of her bed. I opened one of the wardrobe doors. It was empty. Even all her things has been packed up. ‘Someone has been here before us,’ I said a little unnecessarily. ‘I imagine they will also have fixed the bell.’
Bertram consulted his watch. He rang the bell. We waited. Neither of us felt comfortable enough to sit in this room. What seemed like a very long time later, there a brief knock on the door and Rory entered. ‘Nothing,’ he said. ‘Not a sound.’
‘So whoever had this room cleaned didn’t know the bell wasn’t working,’ said Bertram.
‘It was probably the Countess,’ I said. ‘I tried to persuade her to leave the bedding alone. She must have decided she couldn’t bear to leave the room uncleaned.’
‘It is high summer,’ said Rory. ‘Without wishing to be indelicate, the smell would have quickly reached the other rooms. I’m sorry, sir, but the room was very bad.’
‘I guessed,’ said Bertram. ‘They had tried to clean Mama up before I …’ he sagged suddenly. Rory caught him. ‘I think we’d better be getting you to your room, sir. Maybe you could find out if that doctor is still on the premises, Euphemia?’
‘There’s no need to fuss,’ said Bertram. He tried to pull away from Rory and stand unsupported. He collapsed on the bed. ‘Euphemia!’ said Rory.
‘I’m on my way,’ I said. I hurried to my room and rang the bell. To my surprise Robbins answered my call instead of Merry. ‘Can I be of assistance, your Highness,’ he said with the look of dread on his face that only a man who fears he is about to be confronted with the workings of women’s intimate apparel can conjure. I told him briefly that Bertram was being taken to his room and needed a doctor.
‘Not sickness, I hope your Highness,’ said Robbins.
‘His heart,’ I said shortly.
‘Thank goodness for that,’ said Robbins. ‘Begging your Highness’s pardon, but Cook would be in a right taking …’
‘Now, please Robbins,’ I said in my most authoritative voice. The butler bowed till his nose almost touched his knee and then scurried away as fast as it was possible for him to do without actually breaking into an undignified sprint.
I sat down on my bed overcome by fatigue. No one had drawn my curtains and I could see night sending the shadowy fingers of dusk across the sky. I hadn’t had the chance to ask how the bell mechanism might have been disabled, but Rory had locked the room again when he left with Bertram, so I would have to wait until tomorrow. I wanted Merry to help me out of my dress, but I did not wish to summon Robbins again. I had been too pre-occupied thinking of Bertram to ask why he had answered my summons. I hoped Merry hadn’t got herself into hot water asking questions.
I moved a
cross to the chair by the window. From here I could see the much of the grounds, which were undeniably lovely. I would rest my head against the batwings of the chair and wait. Merry would know I needed her and would come to me as soon as she could. I found I was crossing my fingers for Bertram. There had always been whispers that he wasn’t entirely fit, but Richard had often poo-poohed them as him simply being cosseted by his mother. I had fallen into the error of thinking this to be so too. I had never seen him become ill though on the very first occasion we met I remember him and Richard discussing his ill health. Was it because they shared a common failing that he had been so attracted to Miss Wilton? My eyes felt hot and prickly. Surely he would not share her fate?
I sat staring out of the window, seeing nothing and thinking of all the times Bertram and I had worked, argued and laughed together.
At some point fatigue must have over taken me, because the next thing I knew the room was full dark, except for the embers glowing in the remnants of the fire. The hair on the back of my neck was up and I was completely awake. Something had startled me from my slumbers, but what was it?
I had a creeping sensation I was not alone. Being accompanied in a darkened room has become all too frequent an occurrence in my life since I began working for the Staplefords, so I was not as panicked as one might expect for a virtuous young woman.
Firstly, I deliberately slowed my breathing, so any would be assailant, or more optimistically burglar, would think me still asleep. Secondly, I listened very, very carefully and thirdly, I did my best to bring to mind mentally the contents of the room and any ready weapons there might be to hand. The best I could conceive of at the present was the heavy hair brush on the dressing table to my left. To my right there was also a small table with a vase, but I was less confident of grabbing that with a first lunge in the dark.
A part of me hoped it was Merry, sneaking in late to attend to her maidly duties, but I could think of no reason why she would not have brought a candle to light her way.
A Death in the Wedding Party Page 12
