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The Missing Diamond Murder

Page 11

by Diane Janes


  ‘So between those three and Jamieson we can take approximately two p.m. as the start of our window of opportunity.’

  ‘And by about four p.m. to four thirty people had started to return to the house for tea and, according to everyone I’ve spoken with, the terrace was always occupied by someone or other from then onwards.’

  ‘So the question is where was everyone during that two-hour period?’

  ‘Some people are quite easily accounted for. Mabel and Victoria Trenchard had come over here to play tennis and they appear to have been within sight of someone else the whole time. The same thing applies to the Baddeley children. They’d come to spend the day on the beach with Imogen and they seem to have been in full view of at least one other adult, except when they were walking to and from their home.’

  ‘Which is where, in relation to Sunnyside House?’

  ‘They live well to the west of here and their route doesn’t take them anywhere near the path to the east cliffs. I don’t believe they would have seen anything useful, or even been coming and going at the relevant times. I haven’t been able to question them, because they’re away at school but, under the circumstances, I don’t believe they can possibly have anything useful to add.’

  ‘How old are they?’

  ‘They were twelve and fourteen at the time.’

  ‘And the Trenchard girls?’

  ‘Around the twenty mark.’

  ‘And being outsiders, there’s no motive either.’

  ‘Quite so. It’s when we get to the family that things become more complicated. Lady Louisa was alone at the house all afternoon, but she has absolutely no motive, so far as I can see.’

  ‘Unless she was after the diamond.’

  ‘She doesn’t strike me as being in want of diamonds. Firstly she has some of her own already and secondly she appears to want for nothing at all.’

  ‘What about the others?’

  ‘Well, Roland Edgerton is the person who stands to gain the most, except that his position doesn’t seem to have changed all that much. He was living here already and had taken over most of the running of the estate and so forth, at his grandfather’s instigation. He wasn’t short of money before his grandfather passed on and he told me quite frankly that when he’d once got into financial difficulties, he made a clean breast of it and his grandfather paid off his debts.’

  ‘Hmmm, that’s his story. Opportunity?’ asked Tom.

  ‘None so far as I can tell. He was on the beach with everyone else and then walked up to join the tennis players, accompanied by his sister, Henrietta.’

  ‘So he vouches for Henrietta and she for him?’’

  ‘That’s right. Henrietta doesn’t seem to have been on her own at all either. I mean, obviously people slipped in and out of the beach hut to get changed and things like that, but it takes a good fifteen minutes to walk from the beach to the house. Then you’d have to wheel the old man up here, that’s another five or six minutes at the very least. Then you’ve got to get back down to the shore again, which even taking a short cut, would account for another five to ten minutes. Anyone starting from the beach would need to be absent for a minimum of half an hour, possibly more.’

  ‘What about the tennis players?’

  ‘Once they started to play during the afternoon, no one left the tennis court at all. According to Eddie, Roland and Henrietta, the game broke up and they all went back to the house together – including the Trenchard sisters, who stayed for tea.’

  ‘Who vouches for the younger brother – the one who isn’t here today?’

  ‘Eddie? He’s at a funeral. I think you’d like him, he’s rather fun. He was one of the original four who went up to play tennis and he was there when his brother and sister arrived. Again, he simply doesn’t have time. Or a motive, so far as I can tell.’

  ‘What about this uncle of theirs?’

  ‘Ah, now here we’ve got something more interesting. Uncle Charles decided to go off on his own for a walk, in spite of the fact that it was just about the hottest afternoon of the year. I’ve got a bad feeling about Uncle Charles. The thing is that no one has said anything about my being able to interview him, or even whether he would be agreeable to me talking with him.’

  ‘Well, if you do interview him, you’d better not go alone,’ Tom said. ‘If he is the murderer he might be dangerous. Remember what happened once before.’

  ‘Really, Tom! I’m not a complete fool. Oh dear, was that a spot of rain?’

  ‘There’s a very dodgy-looking black cloud coming our way. Perhaps we’d better hoof it back to the house.’

  ‘We won’t make it in time. Hold on, though,’ said Fran. ‘There’s a little thatched shelter just around this corner, meant for a viewpoint. Let’s go in there until the worst of it passes. It will be far easier to carry on talking than if we go back to the house, where there may be people around.’

  They reached the shelter just as the rain began to fall more rapidly. It was a small, rectangular construction, with solid walls to three sides, but completely open at the front, which faced out to sea. Unfortunately the view for which the structure had been created was all but obscured by low cloud.

  ‘Well, this is cosy,’ said Tom, settling himself on the bench which had been built against the back wall.

  Something in his tone abruptly reminded Fran of the danger that being alone with Tom presented to the success of her divorce petition. ‘You know,’ she said, standing just inside the shelter, but not sitting down, ‘you really oughtn’t to have come here like this. If I’m asked now, instead of saying that I haven’t seen you for months and then only in the company of other people, I will have to admit to having seen you here and also that we were alone together in the grounds of Sunnyside House.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Tom said. ‘I thought the business angle provided a perfect front. Edgerton and I have done a deal this morning to ship an initial fifty boxes of his Woolbrook Pippins up to the Midlands this season, which sounds like a genuine enough reason for my presence here to me. How was I to know that the Edgertons would send us off into the garden on our own?’

  ‘That might not have been so bad,’ Fran said, ‘if we had not ended up sheltering from the rain, in a little hut, out of sight of anyone else.’

  ‘But now, here we are alone, in romantic proximity, where the evil King’s Proctor might envisage the possibility that I have taken advantage of the rain shower to make violent love to you, amid the sound of the wind and the waves.’

  ‘Please don’t joke, Tom,’ she said, feeling close to tears.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said quickly. ‘I agree that it is all my fault, but if necessary I am prepared to stand up in court and take my oath that nothing improper at all has taken place. Now please come and sit beside me and continue to expound your discoveries. You had reached the suspicious activities of Uncle Charles before rain stopped play.’

  She knew that Tom was right. The situation could not be helped, and besides which she was getting cold, for the temperature had dropped a couple of degrees with the coming of the rain and it might be warmer if she sat on the bench at the back of the shelter, so she settled herself in the remaining space on the bench and took up the threads of their discussion.

  ‘Charles and his wife, Dolly – who is despised as a common gold-digger by the rest of the family, by the way – had lunch up at the house with Lady Louisa and then rejoined the group on the beach, but soon afterwards he took himself off for a walk and wasn’t seen again by anyone until teatime.’

  ‘That’s extremely suggestive,’ said Tom.

  ‘The only other people who seem to have disappeared for any length of time are Imogen, who is only a girl of fourteen. Though she’s a bit odd, she doesn’t seem a likely candidate for the person who pushed her grandfather off a cliff, and—’

  ‘How big is she?’ Tom interrupted.

  ‘She’s quite a lump of a girl. Why do you ask?’

  ‘You don’t suppose it’s possible
that she could have taken the old man up there in his wheelchair for some sort of game and either pushed him over by accident, or because she thought it would be funny – you know – not understanding the consequences of the act?’

  ‘I don’t think she’s stark staring bonkers, if that’s what you mean,’ said Fran. ‘And I think it would take quite an effort to get that wheelchair off the path and over the edge, so I don’t really fancy the accident theory, but at the same time there could be something in what you say. If it was a game of some kind that went wrong, the girl might be frightened to admit what had happened. I still need to talk to Imogen, though that process is fraught with doubt, given that Henrietta suggested she’s “imaginative”, while Mellie claims point blank that she’s a liar.’

  ‘How did she come to be on her own?’

  ‘She had a falling out with some of the other children on the beach and ran off. Her governess, whose name is Miss Billington, went after her, but she didn’t manage to find her.’

  ‘The girl might have seen or heard something. Especially if she spent a while ranging around on her own, keeping out of sight of the governess.’

  ‘And don’t forget the governess is another person who left the beach and was therefore alone for an appreciable time.’

  ‘Miss Billington …’ Tom mused. ‘No obvious motive, so far as you can tell?’

  ‘No … and her separation from the rest of the party was unplanned,’ Fran said. ‘She had no way of knowing that Imogen would run off, and if Imogen hadn’t made a bolt for it as she did, Miss Billington would have just stayed with the kids, on the beach, the whole time.’

  ‘So Uncle Charles remains the prime suspect. Who else is still left for you to talk with?’

  ‘Well, I’ve covered most of the household servants. Two until four in the afternoon is their quiet time. They’re mostly in the servants’ hall at the back of the house, though Mrs Remington, the cook, has a little sitting room of her own and Jamieson has a room which looks on to the turning area by the front door. There was a mix-up between two of the maids, who each thought the other had said she would take a cup of tea through to old Mr Edgerton. That all sounds genuine enough. After the lunch things had been cleared away no one answered any bells, or went into the family’s part of the house at all. And, actually, that sets up a little mystery, because Lady Louisa claims that she heard someone laugh in the upstairs hall when she was in her room, followed by someone else telling them to hush, but according to what everyone else says, there was no one else in that part of the house all afternoon.’

  ‘She probably dreamed it. Go on.’

  ‘Well, I’m going to try Mr Marshall and his team of gardeners, though I don’t hold out much hope there, because I’m sure they would have said something to someone at the time if they’d seen anything of interest. Then there is old Mr Edgerton’s nurse, Monica Roche.’

  ‘Roach – as in the fish?’

  ‘Pronounced roach, but actually spelled R-O-C-H-E according to the name and forwarding address provided by Lady Louisa. She was off the premises during the relevant time, but she’s the one who actually spotted that the wheelchair had gone over the cliff and I’d like to ask her about that. I hope she will agree to speak with me, but of course she’s not an Edgerton employee now so it is entirely her choice.’

  ‘You’re shivering,’ Tom said abruptly. ‘Come here, for goodness’ sake.’ He put his arm around her and drew her close, saying as Fran attempted to protest, ‘Damn the King’s Proctor. And anyway, there’s no one here to see.’

  Grateful for the warmth, Fran made no further objection. ‘There’s one other servant I haven’t spoken with – a maid called Connie – who was employed here when old Mr Edgerton died but has subsequently left. I don’t suppose she will have anything else to add, but I’d like to track her down if I can, for the sake of completeness. And, of course, the other outstanding clue is the Sidmouth affair.’

  ‘The Sidmouth affair? What on earth is that?’

  Huddled against Tom’s side, Fran glanced up and was amused by the expression on his face. ‘I don’t know – yet. But I intend to find out. It’s evidently quite well known within the household, for I’m sure that Miss Billington knows perfectly well what it’s all about, for all that she denied it.’

  ‘How do you intend to find out what it is?’

  ‘I’m going to ask Eddie Edgerton outright. You know, I’m pretty sure he was about to tell me what it’s all about when we were interrupted the other day, but I haven’t really had a chance to get him on his own since then.’

  Tom made no reply and they sat there in silence, watching the rain gusting across the gap against a backdrop of slate grey sea. After a while Tom rubbed his hand gently up and down the sleeve of her jacket. ‘Warmer now?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes, thank you.’

  He stopped rubbing and resumed his former position, still holding her protectively against his side. If only, Fran thought, if only … But it was no use thinking about anything at all. Better to just live in the moment, herself and Tom, shut in by the rain, with no one else in the world at all.

  SIXTEEN

  The rain eventually stopped long enough for them to hurry back to the house, but thanks to the dripping trees, Fran needed to go straight upstairs and exchange her damp jacket and woollen jumper for a fresh blouse and cardigan.

  ‘Did you get soaked?’ Mellie asked, as she officiated over the teapot when they were all seated in the drawing room again.

  ‘Fortunately we were able to take shelter in the little thatched view house on the cliff path.’

  ‘You know,’ said Henrietta, ‘we have really been most remiss in not inviting Tom to stay the night.’

  ‘Absolutely,’ agreed Roly. ‘We won’t hear of you going off to eat dinner alone and spending the night in a hotel, will we, Mellie?’

  ‘No, indeed. Do say you’ll be our guest, Tom.’

  Fran held her breath. Tom calling in on a legitimate business matter and happening to find her staying here could be made to sound perfectly innocent. A walk around the garden did not, perhaps, mean all that much, but an overnight stay in the home of mutual acquaintances was most definitely open to connotations of bedroom hopping.

  ‘That’s awfully generous of you, but I have already trespassed on your hospitality quite enough for one day. Besides which, going on to Exeter this evening will considerably shorten my journey north. It would be a fearful rush to make my appointment in Gloucestershire tomorrow if I were to stay here tonight.’

  ‘What a pity. Perhaps on another occasion?’

  ‘That would be delightful, thank you.’

  Fran had no further occasion to speak with Tom alone and she was careful to make nothing of his departure, merely wishing him a safe journey and not bothering to accompany him to the front door, as Roland and Mellie Edgerton did.

  ‘What a nice chap,’ remarked Hen, when they were left together in the drawing room.

  ‘Yes. He’s good fun, isn’t he?’ Fran replied, attempting to sound as if the idea had only just occurred to her.

  Later on, when she was alone in her room, Fran allowed herself to think – just a little – about Tom. It would probably be much better if she tried to forget him altogether. Once this case was behind them, she would have to make a clean and final break. Give up detection (after all, there was no reason to believe that another investigation would ever come her way), and resign from the Robert Barnaby Society, leaving no excuse whatsoever to maintain contact with Tom. Mo was right: there were plenty more fish in the sea and perhaps there was someone else out there whom she could learn to care for. Someone who was available. Someone to share her life with. The plain gold band on her third finger caught her eye. Taking it between her right thumb and forefinger, she slid it off and placed it on the dressing table. She noticed that the place it had occupied was paler than the surrounding skin, creating a ghostly suggestion of a marriage soon to be dissolved. Well, that would fade and the sooner the be
tter. From now on, she would not wear Michael’s ring.

  Eddie had returned in time for dinner and was keen to regale his brother with news of mutual acquaintances. ‘Bozzy Fosdyke was there. He’s on two sticks now, the poor old boy, he must be about a hundred years old. And, oh yes, do you remember Burns Minor?’

  ‘Wasn’t he that horrid little squirt who used to cheat at cards?’

  ‘That’s the fellow. Well, he’s done tremendously well for himself in the City and he turned up in a chauffeur-driven Rolls-Royce. Chap’s worth an absolute fortune, according to Gilkes-Watson.’

  ‘A cad is always a cad,’ said Roly.

  ‘Just so. I cut him dead at the church door.’

  ‘Does everyone have their costume sorted out for tomorrow night?’ asked Mellie, who was clearly bored by all this talk of people she did not know. ‘How about you, Eddie? You always do leave everything to the last minute.’

  ‘I’m putting on my cricket whites and a false beard and going as W.G. Grace.’

  ‘That shows a singular lack of effort,’ said Henrietta.

  ‘Thank you for your usual endorsement of my character. What are you going as, Fran?’ Eddie turned to her with a smile.

  ‘Your sister has persuaded me to go as Juliet, though I’m really not sure …’

  ‘You will be perfection in the role. You must allow me to drive you. Juliet needs a winged chariot and Roly’s vehicle is far too sedate.’

  ‘Don’t be silly, Eddie,’ Mellie objected. ‘We can all fit into Roly’s car and Fran will freeze if you persist in driving with the roof down. She won’t be able to wear a proper hat, as that little beaded Juliet cap is part of the costume.’

  ‘I shall have the roof up and the heater full on. I assure you that Fran’s health and costume will not be compromised in any way. Besides which, it would be a fearful crush in Roly’s car. Far better for us to split up.’

  ‘He is right,’ Henrietta conceded, turning to her sister-in-law. ‘Your skirt is very full and has a ton of petticoats under it.’

 

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