'All right, I'll meet you in Lady FitzGreville's rooms. We'd best have a quick look in there, I suppose. Keep up the good work, Davies. If you think of anything else, make a note of it and let me know.'
Lady FitzGreville's long-abandoned apartment was unlocked. The curtains were drawn closed but it remained furnished, with even the ornaments and their doilies still in place.
'Stale,' said Rattigan, sniffing. 'Touch of damp, I fancy.'
'Dusted, though,' said Felix. 'Someone looks after it.'
'They want to air it then.' He peered into the bedroom. 'Hello, a wheelchair. Was she an invalid?'
'No idea. Might have had broken a leg or something. Clearly no-one roosting here now anyway.'
'See the daughter next, sir? As she's across the way?'
'I think we'll leave that for later. Let's look at these priest-holes.'
The backstairs from the maids' room led to a door helpfully labelled "Kitchen." This they ignored, descending another flight into the blackness of an extensive cellar. A dim electric light revealed the boiler room with a coal-heap to serve it, while a search uncovered ancient stone steps giving access to a narrow space between a wall and what appeared to be the back of some panelling. Others were to be found some yards away, leading in the opposite direction.
'Too tight for me,' said Rattigan.
Felix pushed a few feet along the nearest. 'It gets a bit wider here,' he reported. 'Ah yes, a spyhole. I can see some armchairs. That'll be the drawing room I expect, and the other no doubt the great hall. Shouldn't think he missed much.'
'Well you know what they say about eavesdroppers.'
Continuing onwards led them through a substantial wine-cellar and, via more stairs, to the entrance hall.
Chapter Nine
'Mr Austin. How do you do? Thank you so much for waiting. I'm hoping to see you all today, rather than have to drag you back tomorrow. Won't you sit down? Cigarette?
Bernard accepted one. 'Thank you, inspector. I've already taken two unscheduled days off and will not be popular if I take another. Nor, I think, will my rather conservative employers be happy to find me "mixed up in murder." I'll gladly answer your questions, but I fear I'm not likely to be much help to you. Shall I answer for my wife as well?'
'Were you apart very much last night?'
'Scarcely at all. Certainly not after we retired.'
'Then you might as well do, at least for now. Were you involved in the goings-on in the small hours?'
'I think I'm correct in saying we were the only people who were not; we slept through the lot of it. We're both heavy sleepers and our room is furthest from the stairs, which might explain it.'
'Would it not be theoretically possible for one of you to leave the room and return again without disturbing the other?'
'Yes, I suppose so, but neither of us did.'
'But you wouldn't know, would you?'
'Well no, I suppose not,' agreed Bernard equably.
'Did you hear a gunshot or something like one at any time last night?'
'Well no, we were asleep!'
'All right. So you got up and came down to breakfast as usual?'
'That's correct. It was only then that we heard about the fracas. I could give you a résumé of the night's events if you want but you'd do better to ask someone who was there.'
'Yes, I will. Coming to this treasure hunt. May I ask, did you ever suspect you were the butt of a practical joke?'
Bernard looked thoughtful. 'To my chagrin, no, I can't claim that I did. I knew him to be eccentric, so it seemed in character. I suppose everyone felt the same.'
'And wanted it to be true, no doubt?'
'There may have been an element of that.'
'Did you like him?'
'I only met him a time or two. I found him tiresome and boorish, so I suppose the answer is no.'
'And Mrs Austen? She's his niece, is she not? Did she also dislike him?
'No doubt she thinks the same as me. She hasn't had much to do with him, as an adult.'
'She's never expressed a view?'
'She said he was eccentric.'
'I must ask you this: did you know he was still alive, and that the funeral was a hoax?'
Bernard smiled. 'No, I didn't. But now that I do, I'm not especially surprised.'
'Did you kill him?'
'No.'
'Do you know who did?
'No.'
'Do you suspect anyone?'
'No, not at all.'
'Do you own a gun?'
'No.'
'Were you in the war?'
'Yes.'
'See much action?'
'Not as much as some, I daresay,' said Bernard.
Watching him leave, Felix turned abruptly to Rattigan. 'You know, I don't think I'll ask that again.'
'Probably time, sir.'
Roger FitzGreville sat back in his chair and observed his interrogator with interest. 'Lagging behind in the grey-hair stakes, Felix — it won't do.'
'It's the healthy life I lead,' said Felix. 'Cigarette?'
Roger accepted one. 'I suppose I'm a prime suspect: desperate character, hacks at his brother with a broadsword.'
'It doesn't endear you to the law. Will he press charges?'
'Heavens, no! It wasn't like that. I'm not prepared to tell you what it was about, I'm afraid.'
'All right, we'll leave it for the moment. Tell me about your movements on Saturday night. You know, of course, that I've spoken to Miss Beaufort-Smyth?'
'Roger inclined his head at the quietly writing Rattigan. 'Being a bit coy, aren't you? Doesn't your pal know?'
'Sergeant Rattigan wasn't present at the time. I understand that you turned in at about eleven o'clock. Then, at about one o'clock, you got up again.'
'Yes, to visit the bathroom. However I'd earlier received a note asking me to go to the great hall at, coincidentally, the same time. I thought I knew who had written it and had no intention of complying, but I'm afraid my curiosity got the better of me and I went onto the minstrels' gallery and looked down. Someone was down there all right and I decided to speak to them but it turned out to be my brother. We became involved in a fight. It was noisy and we woke most of the house up.'
Felix kept his expression studiedly neutral. 'Well, I'm about as good at reading between the lines as the next man. Can I take it that Mr Tony FitzGreville also received an anonymous note?'
'I understand that he did, yes.'
'Did you keep yours?'
'No, it went in the fire.'
'How did you acquire it?'
'It was pushed under the door of my room. I nearly missed it. Wish I had.'
'Very Thomas Hardy. And your brother's note?'
'I've no idea.'
'Any idea who might have written them?'
'Not who I thought it was, otherwise no. It was quite a clever forgery. I don't know about Tony's, of course.'
'So the handwriting resembled that of the person you initially thought it was?'
'Close enough, yes.'
'Wouldn't it have been wise to keep it?'
'I got rid of it as soon as I'd read it. Not very prescient of me was it?'
'I see. What happened after the fight?'
'We were roundly rebuked by the Colonel, who was first to arrive. Then people began appearing from all sides. It was all rather chaotic. Tony was bleeding a bit and Fudge decided off his own bat to fetch the local doctor. Just as the poor fellow pitched up, cousin Joan came down and shrilly accused my nine-year-old nephew of goosing her in her bathroom.'
Felix smiled in spite of himself. 'And had he?'
'Shouldn't be surprised. She has that effect on you, she's infuriating.'
'In what way?'
'You'll find out when you interview her.'
'All right. What happened then?'
'There was a bit of talk. The doctor left and we eventually went back to bed.'
'What time would that have been?'
'Somewhat afte
r two-thirty, I think.'
'Did you go anywhere else?'
'No, we were all in. I was anyway.'
'Did you shoot Sir Jasper?'
'Observe my pained and innocent expression — no!'
'What was your opinion of him?'
'He was a most unpleasant man, a wicked man. He had no redeeming features.'
'You think he deserved to die?'
'That's a hard thing to say about anyone. I don't think I'm qualified to judge.'
'Even after the way he treated you?'
'It was very cruel, but perhaps we might have laughed about it eventually. He might even have left a sensible will. Now, who knows?'
'Did you owe Sir Jasper money when he died?'
Roger leaned back and gazed at him for a moment. 'That's a very perceptive question.'
'Pretty obvious, I'd have thought. Did you?'
'I owed him a thousand pounds. Not enough to kill a man for.'
'Some might think so. Could you have paid him back?'
'At this moment? It would have left me a bit short, but I wasn't expecting to. It's been invested, and he approved the investment.'
'Can you prove that?'
'There's nothing in writing, no. We operated on trust.'
'You trusted him?'
'Not as far as I could throw him. It was he who trusted me. He's done all right out of me, over the years.'
'You've never fallen out over money?'
'No, nor anything else. I must also point out that I didn't know, or even suspect, he was alive, so the temptation to kill him never arose. I was as shocked as anyone to see him in the library. My first thought was that he'd been disinterred. Hideous!'
'I believe one of the maids found him. Is that right?'
'Yes, young Nettie. A few of us were upstairs and came running when she screamed. I don't blame her, frankly. It made my blood run cold.'
'But you weren't entirely surprised, perhaps? On thinking about it.'
'No, I suppose not. I don't think any of us were, given his character. But it's easy to be wise with hindsight. I was certainly surprised at the time.'
'This treasure hunt. Did you hope to win it?'
'I very much wanted to, yes. I felt, and still feel, that I have a right to the place.'
'What about Joan FitzGreville?'
'I don't think she should have it, no. She's not capable of managing it and she's already well provided for.'
'How do you know that?'
'Well, from the . . .' He stopped and chuckled. 'From the false will, I suppose. It's amazing, isn't it, how one's mind runs on rails?'
Felix smiled. 'What made you realise it was a hoax? Was it finding out about Killigrew?'
Roger shook his head. 'Before that. Are you aware of how the contest was operated?'
'Only what Vanda told me. Tell me again.'
'We had to solve a number of mostly cryptic clues. The answers, when aggregated, were supposed to lead us to a hidden token in the shape of the FitzGreville coat of arms.'
'And did anyone find it?
'We almost all found it! He'd scattered copies of the confounded thing all over the house. If he hadn't been dead by then, we'd probably have torn him limb from limb.'
Felix nodded. 'When did you discover this deception?'
'This morning, just before you walked in. Tony challenged the finder of the token to admit it and we all produced one.'
'Do you own a gun?'
'I still have my service revolver. It's at my flat.'
'Licensed?'
'Yes it is.'
'And finally, and this is important, did you between about twelve and two o'clock hear a gunshot?'
Again, Roger considered. 'No, I don't think so, but it's a big house.'
Felix rose. 'Yes, it is. All right, we'll leave it at that for now. I must ask you to hang on for a couple of hours until I've interviewed everyone. Have you patched it up with your brother?'
'I like to think so,' said Roger. 'What about Vanda? She's got a rehearsal.'
'I'll do my best to get her to it.'
'Thanks, that's appreciated. I don't envy you this one, Felix.'
'Why do you say that?'
'Because for much of last night we were, inevitably, in our bedrooms. I should imagine that most of us won't be able prove it, but neither can you prove we weren't. I wish you luck!'
Felix grinned at Rattigan. 'He hasn't changed much.'
'Glib,' growled Rattigan. 'That sort can lie through their teeth and never turn a hair.'
'Yes, they can. And conversely, everything they say can sound like a fib, though it may not be.'
'Do you think he did it, or was he too busy with Miss Beaufort-Smyth?'
'I'm bound by the seal of the confessional, Teddy. Let's just say he's better supplied with an alibi than most. A thousand pounds is nothing to him anyway, and why admit to it if he didn't have to? It might have been personal, of course; to stop the old rogue blabbing about something or to settle a score of some kind.'
'He might have been boasting about the loan to someone so had to cover himself. What does he do?'
'He backs the more speculative sorts of business venture. Some lose money, some pay handsomely. His parents left him pretty well off, I think.'
'Suppose he's backed a wrong-un? A run of bad luck. He could be on his beam ends.'
'It's possible of course.'
'Businesses of doubtful legality?'
'That I don't know. We can check if we have to. Let's have the brother in.'
'Bit awkward, this,' said Tony, as they shook their left hands.
'Troubling you much?'
'Yes, it's making me bad-tempered. I'm sick of this sling and I doubt I'll be able to drive. My wife can, fortunately.'
'Well sit down. Cigarette?'
'Er, not sure . . .'
'Allow me,' said Felix, lighting it for him.
'Thanks, Inspector.'
'Want to tell me about it?'
Tony shook his head. 'The row? No, I don't. It had nothing to do with my uncle's death and I don't want it raked over. Best forgotten.'
'All right. Can you take me through Saturday evening and night? Your own part in it, that is.'
'We spent the evening doing that confounded competition. We still had some clues we couldn't solve. I turned in at about ten-thirty. I'm no good at night.'
'And Mrs FitzGreville?'
'She came on later. About twelve.'
'Not later than that?'
'No, she woke me up.'
'Where had she been?'
'She'd stayed in the library, puzzling.'
'What about this note you had?'
Tony sighed. 'It came under the door earlier. I very nearly . . . I didn't know what to do with it, so I stuck it in my pocket and later shoved it on the fire. I went to the great hall where I got into a row with Roger. I was pretty angry with him and just grabbed the sword. He didn't really fight back, just defended himself, but it was me that got hurt. Serves me right.'
'When did this happen?'
'Just after one o'clock.'
'No-one there initially?'
'No. I waited around for a bit and was just about to leave when Roger turned up.'
'Did your wife know about this? You were together by then, presumably?'
'Yes, I told you that. She was sound asleep when I left but the noise we made woke her and she came down.'
'Was she upset to find you hurt?'
'Yes she was.'
Felix fancied he sounded surprised. 'What happened then?'
'I was bleeding quite a bit. Nanny Matthews appeared and started patching me up, but I don't think she really knew what she was doing and young Charlotte took over. She'd more or less got it under control by the time the doctor arrived. He put in some stitches and dressed it.'
Felix consulted his notes. 'That's Charlotte Beaufort-Smyth?'
'Yes. She's a clever girl, very capable.'
'And then?'
'We all w
ent back to bed. Not that I slept much.'
'When would that have been?'
'Something after two, I think. I didn't notice.'
'Before going down to the Great Hall, did you go anywhere else?'
Tony smiled. 'No, Inspector. And nowhere afterwards either.'
'Well, I can accept afterwards. What's this about your son goosing Joan FitzGreville?'
Tony shrugged. 'So she claimed. Nanny said she'd looked in on him earlier and found him asleep but she might have been covering herself.'
'Against what?'
'Dereliction of duty — accusations of. She was supposed to be keeping an eye on him.'
'Oh, I see. Is he in the habit of wandering about at night?'
'Yes, he is. He doesn't seem to need much sleep. We've given up worrying about it. As long as he sticks to certain rules and doesn't get tired during the day we let him get on with it. We did warn her.'
'Was he aware of you fighting?'
'I'm not sure. They live in their own world at that age, don't they? I haven't mentioned it, to be honest. It wasn't the best of paternal examples.'
'Did he say anything else about last night?'
'No.'
'Did you like Sir Jasper?'
'What? No, I didn't. No-one did.'
'Did you actively hate him?'
'No, I don't hate people.'
'Did anyone hate him?'
'In this house, do you mean? I wouldn't presume to say.'
'I have to ask this: did you shoot him?'
'No.'
'Do you own a gun?'
'I've got a rifle. We have trouble with rabbits.'
'Licensed?'
'Certainly.'
'And did you, between about twelve and two hear a gunshot, or something that might have been one?'
Tony considered. 'Nothing I'd identify as one, no. It was a bit noisy latterly, of course.'
'All right, I'll let you go. If you'd just hang on for an hour or two I'd be grateful. Depending on what other people say to me, I may have more questions for you, or for Mrs FitzGreville.'
'If that one did it,' said Felix, 'I'll eat my hat.'
'Nice chap,' agreed Rattigan. 'What was the row about, do you reckon? Crim con as they used to say?'
'Given Roger's character, I think we can assume that. Sight of Mrs FitzGreville will probably tell us. Someone knew about it, or thought they did, slipped them a note each and hoped for fireworks.'
A Strange Manor of Death (The Inspector Felix Mysteries Book 3) Page 10
