A Death in the Wedding Party

by Caroline Dunford

  ‘Food poisoning,’ said Bertram.

  Rory shook his head, ‘No, I reckon they would have investigated every single pot and pan in the place. The murderer might be reckless, but it would be guy stupid to count on the police passing over three deaths.’

  ‘You’re right, McLeod,’ said Bertram. ‘We’re no further on.’

  ‘Oh dear God,’ I said under my breath. My face must have been a picture of horror, because despite his mood Rory laid a comforting hand on my shoulder. ‘ Don’t you see,’ I said, ‘that means the killer couldn’t be certain who would get the poisoned cup. He didn’t care which one of us died. He simply wanted either Richenda, Lady Stapleford or I to die.’

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  A Monster Among Us

  ‘But that’s monstrous,’ said Bertram.

  ‘Unless it was Richenda,’ said Merry. ‘If she knew one of the cups was poisoned, then leaving it to get cold and having me make another one was a masterstroke.’

  ‘By that token you could equally say it was me,’ I said.

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ said Bertram, ‘we know it wasn’t you.’ It was a calm, quiet statement of fact, but said with an expression of total trust in his eyes. I felt quite emotional.

  ‘Are we no overlooking the bell?’ said Rory. ‘Yon polis said it were working. And Robbins said it were tested before the guests arrived.’

  ‘So whoever murdered my mother went into her room and disconnected it after we arrived?’

  ‘Another guy risky manoeuvre,’ said Rory.

  ‘Unless,’ I said, ‘it was someone who would not be thought to be odd if they were found in her room.’

  ‘You mean like me,’ said Merry. ‘Cos I didn’t do it.’

  ‘We know that,’ I said, ‘but perhaps another servant or …’

  ‘Richenda,’ said Rory.

  ‘Or Richard,’ said Bertram.

  ‘Or you,’ said Merry, ‘but we know you didn’t do it.’

  Bertram patted Merry’s hand making her blush. ‘That’s sweet of you to say, Merry, but the truth is that although we all trust that each other didn’t do this terrible thing it seems as hard to prove that as it to find the real culprit.’

  ‘Could you try asking Richenda what that row was about, Merry?’ I asked.

  ‘I’ll try,’ said Merry, ‘but you never know with her what kind of mood she’ll be in. One minute it’s all have these lovely gloves they’ll be good for your day off the next she’s throwing a lamp at me.’

  ‘Sounds like she and Tipton are well-suited,’ I said.

  ‘What,’ said Bertram, ‘Baggy’s a nasty wee runt I’ll give you that, but I’ve never known him to raise his hand in anger.’

  Rory and I exchanged looks. ‘That has not been our experience, sir,’ he said carefully. ‘The maid at Stapleford Hall who didn’t fetch him hot enough shaving water certainly bore the brunt of his anger.’

  ‘Really?’ said Bertram more intrigued than annoyed at our revelation. ‘I always thought the little blighter had no backbone. Mind you, he did propose to Richenda. Not many men would do that.’

  Merry had been scowling fiercely. ‘If they didn’t mind which one of the ladies they killed, what was their reason?’

  ‘Killing any of us would have stopped the wedding,’ I said.

  ‘So who wanted that?’ asked Rory.

  We all looked helplessly at each other. ‘You said there was an argument between Tipton and Richard that night. What was that about?’

  ‘It was very late and they were both extremely drunk,’ said Bertram. ‘They were slurring their words so much I think only they would understand each other. I certainly couldn’t.’

  ‘But something must have happened to make Tipton go downstairs again,’ I said. ‘He looked in on the ladies to say goodnight and proposition Merry. He was in a jolly mood.’

  ‘They only thing I know that happened,’ said Merry, ‘is the catfight between Richenda and Lady S. I can ask around the servants’ hall and see if anyone knows anything else. The maids are all right little gossips.’

  ‘You’re all missing the point,’ said Rory suddenly, ‘the murderer hasn’t got what he or she wanted. The wedding is merely postponed.’

  ‘You mean they might try again?’ said Merry nervously.

  ‘They already did. With me,’ I said.

  ‘What?’ said Bertram.

  ‘Someone attacked me in my room,’ I said shortly, neither wanting to remember it nor upset Bertram.

  ‘Euphemia, what happened?’

  Rory ignored him. ‘If that was the same person,’ said Rory, ‘then it’s not Richenda because it was a man who attacked you. But if it is the same person who poisoned Lady Stapleford then we know it’s someone desperate.’

  ‘And as the wedding approaches they are only going to get more desperate,’ said Bertram.

  ‘Oh, my Gawd,’ said Merry. ‘That means none of us is safe and those bleeding policemen are being about as useful as a hot water bottle made from a sieve!’

  ‘I think we have to presume it is the same person or someone working with the poisoner. I’m sorry, Bertram, it could be both your half-brother and half-sister.’

  ‘No,’ said Bertram, ‘I’ve known them long enough to know that while they may when cornered back each other up, generally their plans don’t align.’

  ‘Could they be cornered right now?’ asked Rory.

  ‘Richenda is desperate to marry Tipton,’ I said. ‘I saw the way she accepted his proposal.’

  A smile curled Rory’s lips, ‘It was certainly forceful!’

  ‘Then we’re back almost where we started. We need to find out the substance of the arguments.’

  ‘Then that’s what we must do,’ I said. ‘We must also take great care.’ The other three nodded solemnly though I knew they were thinking like me how much more care could we take?

  Bertram sank back against his pillows, and with one accord we began to edge out of the room. ‘We’ll get no further here,’ said Rory. ‘But if we find out anything we’ll be back to tell you.’ Merry curtsied and muttered something. Bertram caught me by the arm, ‘Wait one moment, Euphemia.’ Merry hesitated by the door. ‘She’ll only be a minute,’ urged Bertram. When she had shut the door behind her he pulled me down gently to sit beside him. ‘I’ve always known you were someone special,’ he said, ‘but the last few days have shown me that regardless of who your parents might be, you are a lady and must be treated as such. There can be no question of you returning to either my estate or Stapleford Hall as a housekeeper.’

  I disentangled his fingers from my sleeve. ‘There is no question that I must earn my living to provide for my mother and little brother,’ I said firmly, but without anger.

  ‘Something must be done,’ said Bertram. ‘You belong above stairs. You belong with me.’ The effort of saying this sapped the last of his strength. He was quite breathless at the end of his little speech. ‘Come,’ I said softly, ‘rest. We can discuss this when you are well.’

  ‘Damn,’ said Bertram. ‘I hate being this ill. I hate you seeing me so weak.’

  ‘I have never thought of you as weak,’ I said, ‘and I don’t believe I ever will. Please sleep now before we damage my reputation beyond repair.’

  Bertram waved feebly at the door indicating he wouldn’t stop me leaving. ‘This discussion is not over,’ he murmured as I left, but by the time I closed the door he had sunk into a deep slumber.

  Outside I found Rory waiting for me. ‘This way,’ he said brusquely, and more or less shoved me into a side room. It was a dressing boudoir, but from the dust sheets spread around the room, clearly not currently in use. ‘I’ve spoken to Fitzroy,’ he said.

  ‘Oh good. Did you persuade him to help us? He wouldn’t listen to me.’

  ‘He was only interested in getting me to sign this official secrets document. He said domestic murder didn’t interest him.’ Rory spoke with an obvious sneer.

  I sat down on a covered chair
throwing up a little pile of dust. ‘Oh dear, I thought he might have listened to you.’

  ‘That man never listened to me,’ said Rory sharply, ‘but he doesnae know you’ve been attacked.’

  ‘I expect he would say it was my own fault for getting tangled up in other people’s affairs.’ I sighed. ‘He is a most annoying man. If he wasn’t as dangerous I’d give him a piece of my mind.’

  Rory knelt down in front of me and took my hands. ‘It costs me a lot to say this Euphemia, but if you go to him and tell him what has happened to you he will help. I know he will. I hate to admit it but we need him. You are in too much danger.’

  ‘Why would he help now?’ I asked bewildered.

  ‘Have you looked in the mirror?’ asked Rory. ‘You were always guy bonnie to me, but you’re a beautiful woman and a lady without question. There’s no man in this house who would not consider it an honour to protect you.’

  ‘Apart from the man that attacked me, you mean,’ I said scathingly. ‘Get up, Rory. This is silly.’

  Rory let go of my hands and stood. He had a mulish look in his face. ‘If you won’t do what must be done to protect you then I will. I’ll not put my pride before your safety,’ he said and stormed out leaving me quite speechless.

  I dusted myself down as best I could as a fair bit of the dust in the room appeared to now be clinging to me and decided what I needed more than anything was a breath of fresh air to clear my head. A turn in the garden, in full view of the house, would keep me safe and best of all, solitary. As well as trying to solve this mystery, my head was abuzz with the voices and actions of Bertram and Rory. Both of whom I thought were acting far out of character. I caught sight of myself in a mirror as I was about to leave. The woman who looked back at me was a stranger, finely dressed and with a reserved and concerned impression on her face. My hair was different as were my make-up and clothes, but my eyes, the windows of my soul, told a different story; that I was the same inside as I had ever been. I could not help but wonder if either Bertram or Rory knew me at all. My reflection blinked back tears. How could either of them believe that a few fancy clothes would change the real me?

  I walked briskly and with purpose down and out into the garden. I was doing my best to avoid the majority of the guests. I knew the longer I was in conversation with a stranger the more chance I had of people discovering who I really was.

  I also had a strong feeling there was something I was missing. Not something I had heard, but something I had seen. If I could only work out what this was then I would be several steps closer to understanding what was going on. I needed time and space to think.

  It was a fine day. A gardener had been at work somewhere and the scent of freshly mown grass was strong and sweet in the air. Birds called and a faint breeze stirred between the leaves on the trees. Ahead of me I could see a little wooden house, built , I imagined for some long grown up children. The green paint was peeling and spider had spun thick webs across the windows. Still, it was a sweet reminder of happier times. The sounds and smells were so familiar I shut my eyes and imagined myself back in the vicarage garden long before any of this had all begun. In my mind’s eye I could see my father, in a battered old straw hat that my mother hated, apologizing to the weeds as he pulled them from the flower beds.

  I was so lost in reminiscence that I never heard the footsteps behind me. I had no idea I was not alone until I was firmly taken by the arms and bundled into that sweet little summer house.

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  A Surprising Appeal for Help

  The interior of the summerhouse was dark. A weak light filtered through the cobwebs. This increased substantially when I put my hand through one cluster of webs trying to steady myself. A shaft of sunlight landed on my capturer’s face. Electric blue eyes bored into mine. The angry words on my tongue faded. Fear crept over my skin, turning me cold with dread.

  ‘Mr Tipton,’ I said in suitably confused tones, ‘what is this all about?’

  Tipton took a step towards me and I shrunk back against the dirty wooden wall. I could feel my splendid dress catching on splinters. Baggy Tipton held up both his hands. He backed away from me towards the door and shot a bolt home. I took a deep intake of breath and prepared to scream.

  ‘Don’t,’ said Tipton, ‘I don’t mean you any harm.’

  ‘It’s your normal practice to lock women in summerhouses for their entertainment, is it Mr Tipton? Because I’m not finding this very entertaining.’

  ‘I couldn’t think of a way to speak to you alone,’ said Tipton. ‘When I saw you walking in the garden it seemed too good a chance to miss.’

  ‘You could have simply asked me to meet you?’

  ‘Would you have come?’ asked Tipton. I didn’t respond. ‘I didn’t think so. Besides, Rich gets rather jealous, and I didn’t want to put her back up before the wedding.’

  ‘What is that you think I can help you with – precisely?’

  Tipton sat down on a pile of old stacks, but he kept himself between me and the door. ‘I don’t know. Can’t seem to think straight at the moment. Wedding nerves I expect. If there is going to be a wedding.’

  ‘Has it been called off?’

  ‘Not yet, but I get the distinct impression that Richard doesn’t want it to go ahead. Apparently he and Rich are completely at odds. Had a right old ding-dong. And I have no idea why.’

  ‘You argued with Richard on the night of the murder, didn’t you? What was that about?’

  Tipton frowned. ‘Did we? I was very drunk. Someone, a servant, fetched me when Richenda and her stepmother were at it. I got there too late and Richie refused to speak to me. I thought she was giving me the heave-ho, so I went downstairs and got very drunk. Very, very drunk. Everything after that’s a bit of a mist. Woke up in me own bed with a thumper of a headache and a mouth like the inside of …’ he broke off. ‘But that’s not the point.’

  I waited. Tipton hadn’t threatened me yet and he didn’t appear violent. I had no intention of provoking him.

  ‘Thing is,’ said Tipton rubbing his face in his hands, ‘thing is I want you to take back your words. What you told the policeman about Lady S being murdered.’

  ‘I don’t believe they think she was,’ I said carefully.

  ‘Know me brother, Tip-top? One of the best. Everyone likes him. No, I don’t suppose you do. I keep forgetting you’re only a servant in that get-up. Looks good on you. Almost a lady and all that.’ He rubbed his hands over his face and through his hair. ‘Thing is, Tip-top gave me a sort of brotherly warning that one of our guests might be linked to people high up. People who make a habit of knowing stuff. So I need you to tell the police you were wrong.’

  ‘Mr Tipton, I think you overestimate the weight my opinion carries with Chief Inspector Brownly. ‘

  ‘Damn it,’ spat Tipton leaping to his feet and a fist into his palm. ‘That’s not what I need to hear.’ He began to pace up and down the little summer house breathing heavily. Every few steps he slammed his fist into his other hand. Then he start talking very quickly under his breath. I kept very still, but cast my glance about looking for something, anything I could use as a weapon if he came for me. The cob webby windows were tiny. Even if I smashed one I’d never get through it in this dress and we were far enough away from the main house that no one was likely to hear it.

  ‘I’ll do whatever I can do help,’ I said. Tipton stopped pacing and threw me an enormous smile. ‘I knew you were good stuff,’ he said. ‘Stepping up to the mark in Richie’s hour of need and all that. Thing is, I don’t know what you can do. Don’t know what any of us can do.’

  ‘Why don’t you tell me what’s worrying you,’ I said. ‘And I’ll do what I can to help.’

  At this he launched himself at me, grabbed one of my hands and brought it to his lips. ‘Good girl,’ he said. ‘Good girl. I told Richie you were a good ‘un. Damn thing is she’s one of those who always takes against the pretty girl and you’re a stunner.’ He kissed my
hand again. I resolved to wash it as soon as I got out of here. If I got out of here. He let me go and began pacing again. ‘But it’s no good,’ he said. ‘No good. Can’t think of a way out of it. Richard and his bloody deals have drawn too much attention. He’s got enemies, you know.’ He turned his gaze to me and I saw his eyes were feverishly bright. ‘They’re out for him.’

  ‘Who?’ I asked.

  Tipton tapped the side of his nose. ‘Better you don’t know,’ he said, ‘but they’re there. Waiting in the shadows and they’re not going to let this drop. I know they’re not. Once we’re married it will be all righty-tighty. Related to an Earl and all that. She’ll be safe once she’s mine.’

  ‘Richenda?’ I asked. ‘You think someone wants to harm Richenda?’

  ‘No, damn and blast it! Don’t you understand? Richenda killed Lady S and I’ve got to protect her. I’ve got to be her knight in shining armour and take her away from all this.’

  ‘She told you this?’

  ‘No. No. She’s trying to protect me the darling, but I know. She had that fight with her. Stands to reason Lady S must have been trying to stop the wedding. Richie’s dead set on marrying me. Determined girl. Doesn’t let anything get in her way once she’s set her mind to it. Great girl. Fond of her. Have to help. We need to get the policemen out of the house. Maybe we could find a pasty.’

  I couldn’t see how a picnic was going to help matters. Then light dawned. ‘Do you mean patsy?’

  ‘That’s what I said,’ said Tipton. ‘You are taking this seriously, aren’t you? You are Richenda’s friend, my friend, aren’t you?’

  ‘Of course,’ I said wondering if I could edge past him to the door. Suddenly he launched himself at me and caught me by the throat. His hand cruelly gripping me. ‘Cos if you’re not our friend then I’ll have to do something about it. I have to protect Richenda. I have to. Nothing. No one will stop me.’

  I couldn’t speak, but I nodded my agreement as vehemently as I could. He let me go as suddenly as he had attacked. ‘Good girl,’ he said in a normal voice. ‘Good girl. Here, watch those cobwebs, you’ll spoil that lovely frock.’