by Diane Janes
‘And have you?’ Miss Roche turned to ask, as she held open a teashop door and stood back, allowing Fran to precede her.
‘Have I?’ Fran was taken aback by the abrupt nature of the question. Every avenue leads to a teashop, she thought, wondering about the wisdom of a cream horn, as she glanced at the display under a glass dome on the counter.
‘Have you recovered the lost item, or managed to throw any additional light on the death of Mr Edgerton?’
‘In a manner of speaking,’ Fran said. ‘The item has certainly been recovered.’
‘May one ask – confidentially, of course – what this item is and where it was discovered?’
‘It was a diamond. And in a sense, it was never lost. It was recovered from a little grotto in the grounds of Sunnyside House.’
The other woman flopped so heavily into her chair that Fran thought for a moment it would give way. ‘A diamond, you say! And it was found in the grotto? When? By whom?’
‘Imogen found it.’
‘Imogen! That little monkey.’ Miss Roche shook her head angrily. ‘Of course, I’m not surprised it turned out to be Imogen who took it. She was always a wilful child and a terrible trial to her poor governess. Miss Billington always said the girl was inclined to tell fibs, and it appears that she was not above stealing things either.’
‘Oh no, you misunderstand me,’ said Fran. ‘Imogen didn’t steal the diamond from the house. She found it, when she was playing in the grotto. Someone else must have put the stone there in the first place.’
‘How do you know that?’
The question took Fran by surprise again. It had been asked quite sharply, Fran noted. Miss Roche was clearly in the same camp as Mellie, so far as any assessment of Imogen’s truthfulness or reliability went.
‘Well … I suppose I don’t know, for sure. Though I am inclined to believe that the circumstances of the find were as Imogen described them.’
‘So how did Imogen tell you that she came to find this diamond?’
‘She had gone off by herself on the afternoon that her grandfather died. In fact, she had run away from the beach in a temper and eluded her governess by going up into the woods. Once she got up there, she decided to play at treasure hunting, so she went to look in the grotto, which was, I believe, one of the usual places for putting clues and so forth when the family had a treasure hunt. According to Imogen, the little bag with the diamond in it was hidden up on a ledge, at the back of the grotto. She assumed it had been put there as part of one of the usual family games and so she took it back to the playroom with her. She had no idea of its worth. Later on, before the diamond was missed and the house searched, she actually returned it to its hiding place again and it had been there ever since.’
‘I see.’ Miss Roche nodded. Then added after a moment: ‘A likely story, I must say.’
Fran decided it was about time that she became the interrogator. ‘One of the things that I thought you might be able to help me with is the question of who knew about this diamond and would have known where to find it under normal circumstances. The family say that it was always kept in a small wall safe in Mr Edgerton’s room?’
‘That’s correct.’ Turning to the waitress who had appeared at her side, Miss Roche said, ‘We will have a pot of tea for two and a plate of buttered crumpets, please. And do be sure that the crumpets are piping hot. There’s nothing worse than indifferent crumpets,’ she added, returning her full attention to Fran. ‘Where were we? Ah, yes, the little wall safe. So far as I recall there were several small pieces of jewellery in there. Mr Edgerton used to get them out to show people occasionally. I think he liked to gloat over them. The diamond was probably the most valuable item in the safe. Not that I know very much about the relative worth of jewels. The key was kept in the drawer of a table in the same room. A ridiculous arrangement, if you ask me.’
‘So in your opinion, it would have been quite easy for anyone to have taken the diamond?’ asked Fran, putting the thought of cream horns firmly out of her mind.
The other woman considered this before answering. ‘I wouldn’t say that. It would have been almost impossible for a stranger. To begin with, how would they have known that the diamond was there at all? If anyone had come to the house at night, they would have been heard breaking in, and what’s more Mr Edgerton slept in that same room, so they would surely have been afraid of waking him. He spent most of his days in there too, and he wasn’t often left alone.’
‘Except perhaps on your afternoons off?’
‘Even then, a thief would have had to count on not being seen entering the house and on finding Mr Edgerton asleep.’
‘So when do you think the diamond could have been stolen?’
‘I should have thought it was obvious. The theft must have occurred in the days immediately after Mr Edgerton’s death. There was seldom anyone in the library then. The child, Imogen, could easily have slipped in, unlocked the safe and taken out the bag with the stone in it and no one would have been any the wiser. The house is generally deserted during the afternoons. The Edgertons are a very outdoorsy crowd. The younger ones are always at the beach or on the tennis courts and Lady Edgerton herself is generally gardening. That’s why no one saw old Mr Edgerton leave the house that afternoon.’
‘Did you believe he was capable of pushing himself all the way up that path?’
‘Well, he must have been, mustn’t he? He didn’t fly there.’
Why did brusque, capable women like this always make one feel such a prize idiot? Fran wondered. She decided to return to the question of the diamond. ‘Imogen thought her grandfather had put the diamond in the grotto, as part of a game, because he’d put things there in the past.’
‘I dare say he had at one time,’ Miss Roche agreed. ‘But not since he’d been confined to his wheelchair. As a matter of fact, I seem to recall that on at least one occasion when Miss Billington and myself had been roped in to help hide the clues on his behalf, we were asked to put something in the grotto. There’s a sort of shelf in the back, half hidden, close to the roof. Is that where Imogen says she found the stone?’
‘That’s right,’ Fran said. ‘I suppose there isn’t any question of him asking someone to hide the diamond there on his behalf, just before he died?’
‘Oh, I wouldn’t have thought so. He was a bit past organizing treasure hunts by then. And although he wasn’t always entirely sensible, one can’t imagine him suggesting to anyone that they should hide a diamond in the grounds of the house for him, and even if he did, who on earth would be fool enough to agree to such a thing?’
‘You say that old Mr Edgerton wasn’t always rational towards the end of his life?’
‘It’s a common problem with older patients,’ said Miss Roche. ‘They become a little bit forgetful, a little bit confused about things. Mr Edgerton wasn’t too bad, most of the time, but occasionally he would start to ramble and become a little bit muddled in his ideas.’
‘Someone told me that he took an irrational dislike to you at one point.’
‘I wouldn’t put it as strongly as that. He said once or twice that he thought I was looking at him strangely, but there, his eyesight had been failing for some time and I’m not convinced that he was focusing properly.’
‘And I was also told that he claimed Mrs Remington, the cook, was trying to poison him.’
‘That was only on one occasion. I’m not sure that he specifically blamed Mrs Remington. He said that his food tasted bitter and that it must be poisoned. I tasted it myself and there was nothing wrong with it at all, but I threw it away to humour him. I think he had got it into his head that someone might be trying to do away with him. There had been an accident with a log falling out of the fire and setting the hearthrug alight and that was what started him off on that track. It was all just his fancy.’
‘When was the accident with the rug?’
‘Let me see … it must have been in the late spring of 1928. It was quite late in the year t
o be having a fire, but it had been a chilly sort of evening so I had asked the maids to light a fire for him in the library.’
‘And what happened exactly?’
‘I had settled Mr Edgerton down and gone off-duty for the night. I fancied a breath of fresh air before going up to bed, so I got my coat, unlocked the front door and went out on to the terrace. It was lucky that I did, because I was only just outside the library window when I heard him shouting that the place was on fire. I rushed back, of course, but by the time I got to the front door people were already coming from all directions. There was quite a lot of smoke, but the fire was easily quenched and I made up a bed for Mr Edgerton in the morning room that night because the smell from the smoke was still quite bad in the library. I have to admit that I blame myself entirely for what happened. The maid must have built the fire up far too much, but I ought to have noticed that she had forgotten to put the fireguard in place. She was rather rushed, I suppose, what with there being the usual houseful of people. A novice’s mistake, I’m afraid, and one which could have had terrible consequences for my patient.’
‘Goodness,’ said Fran. ‘How terrible. So old Mr Edgerton had a narrow escape.’
‘I suppose so. Though as I mentioned, I was still downstairs myself when it happened and could well have noticed something amiss and given the alarm myself if Mr Edgerton had not done so when he did. The smell of smoke was quite strong and enough to alert anyone who was nearby.’
‘So there was a fire which he thought might not have been an accident and then he suspected he was being poisoned – that came afterwards, I suppose?’ She waited for Miss Roche’s nod before continuing. ‘And was there anything else?’
‘Anything else?’
‘That might have made Mr Edgerton think that someone was trying to harm him? Apart from your giving him funny looks, of course.’ Fran smiled, but her companion didn’t join her in the joke.
‘I cannot bring anything to mind. Ah, good, here comes the tea.’
Fran refused to be distracted by the arrival of tea and crumpets. ‘And you mentioned the way old people sometimes ramble on a bit. Did you have anything specific in mind?’
‘Not really. He sometimes talked about being a boy in London, seeing Queen Victoria ride by in a carriage, that kind of thing.’
‘What about his days in Africa and abroad, when he was a young man making his fortune?’
‘Nothing that I can bring to mind. Do you take sugar, Mrs Black?’
‘Mrs Headingham – you know perhaps that Mrs Headingham was a very old friend of Mr Edgerton – told me an interesting story. She said that according to Mr Edgerton, the diamond which went missing hadn’t actually belonged to him at all.’
‘Really?’ Miss Roche was concentrating on the transfer of a crumpet from one plate to another, a feat which was difficult to perform without butter dripping on to the tablecloth. ‘He never said anything like that to me.’
‘Did he ever mention an old friend, a Frenchman, called Georges Poussin?’
‘Poussin? No. Though I’m not sure I would have remembered if he had. During the course of any given day, a person may say a great many things, the vast majority of which are not worth remembering or repeating. Allow me to pass you the crumpets.’
‘Tell me, Miss Roche.’ Fran shifted a crumpet, still hot from the grill and oozing with butter on to her own plate as she spoke. ‘And please be assured that you can speak to me entirely in confidence: did you ever entertain the slightest suspicion that some member of the household might have been attempting to harm your patient?’
‘Of course not.’ The nurse spoke briskly. ‘If I’d had the slightest suspicion of anyone, it would naturally have been my duty to go to the police.’
‘But you must have thought it strange, when Mr Edgerton appeared to have pushed himself over the cliff.’
‘Life is often strange. I believed that it was an accident. A tragic accident. As did the coroner’s jury.’
‘It was you who first realized what had happened, wasn’t it? That must have been rather horrid.’
Miss Roche considered and for a moment she half smiled. ‘The idea of death is not something mysterious and fearful for those of us who have, for many years, nursed the sick and the dying. I was at a field hospital near Passchendaele, Mrs Black. Nothing will ever surpass the horror of that.’
‘I wonder,’ Fran ventured, ‘if you could tell me what you remember of the afternoon when you last saw Mr Edgerton alive and what happened when you returned from your afternoon off and discovered that he was missing.’
‘I am sure I can’t tell you anything which you don’t already know. When I left my charge, he was eating his lunch, which had been brought to him on a tray in the library as usual. I expect I wished him good afternoon and said that I would see him later, but I cannot honestly remember anything in particular about what was said. I often spent my free afternoons alone, but on this particular day I was collected by motor car and taken out for tea, by a friend. We went to the Palace Hotel in Torquay. I understand that the local police sought corroboration of our movements from the hotel staff.’ The nurse’s tone betrayed a hint of indignation and she paused momentarily before continuing: ‘When my friend dropped me back at Sunnyside House it was approaching six o’clock. I seldom remained away from the house into the evening, although I would have been perfectly entitled to do so, had I wished.
‘On my return I think I went straight to the library and when I saw that Mr Edgerton wasn’t there I went on to the terrace, naturally assuming that he must be outside with the rest of the family. From what I can remember, they were all lounging about out there, after a day on the beach, and when I asked after my patient it became clear that no one had seen the old gentleman for several hours.
‘Jamieson, the butler, was fetched, I remember, but none of the servants could throw any light on the matter, and as for the maids who should have taken in Mr Edgerton’s tea that afternoon, each thought the other had done it.’ Miss Roche sniffed contemptuously and took another small bite of crumpet, which she chewed and swallowed, before continuing. ‘Some of us checked the downstairs rooms and then Mr Roland Edgerton instructed everyone to split up and start searching the grounds. His grandfather could not manage the stairs, so once all the ground floor rooms had been checked, it was obvious the search had to be widened.’
‘Everyone must have been very concerned,’ suggested Fran. ‘I assume he had never gone missing before?’
‘Certainly not during my time there. There was some sort of discussion between the family about who would go in which direction. I decided not to waste any time and took the path which leads straight from the terrace towards the sea. It goes along the edge of the east wood, then follows the edge of the cliffs to a viewpoint, where there is a shelter.’
‘I know it,’ said Fran.
‘I thought it likely that Mr Edgerton had gone that way, because it was not as difficult for the wheelchair as most routes through the garden and I had often taken him that way at his request, because he enjoyed the view. I walked right along the path to a point beyond the shelter, where one can see for a considerable distance across the clifftop, but there was no sign of the old man, so I began to return by the same way and that was when I noticed the flattened grass, leading over the edge of the cliffs.’
‘Can you remember what it looked like?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, how much was the grass flattened? Could you see clear tracks, where the wheels had been? Did there appear to be any other signs of the grass being flattened?’
‘I don’t remember it in any kind of detail. I just noticed that the grass had been disturbed in some way and I’m afraid I immediately feared the worst. I got down on my hands and knees and crawled across to the edge and, when I put my head over, I could see that there was something on the rocks below.’
‘That was very brave of you,’ said Fran. ‘Going right to the edge like that.’
�
��Not really.’ Miss Roche shrugged. ‘I have a pretty good head for heights and I knew the ground was not likely to give way under me. Not if it had taken the weight of Mr Edgerton and his wheelchair.’
Again Fran felt as if she had been censured as a somewhat spineless female, who could not cope with heights, or death or possibly even the sight of a drop of blood on some bandages. A thought suddenly struck her. ‘On the night when Mr Edgerton’s rug caught fire, you mentioned that the maid was particularly busy because there was a houseful of people. Were there some overnight guests?’
‘There were. Mr Charles Edgerton and his wife were staying that weekend, along with some cousins of Mr Roland.’
‘Are these the same cousins who were staying when old Mr Edgerton died?’
‘No, I don’t believe so. They were grown-up cousins. They were the son and daughter-in-law of one of old Mr Edgerton’s daughters.’
So no common denominator there, thought Fran, apart from the coincidence of Charles and Dolly Edgerton’s being there, which might be significant. Aloud, she said, ‘It must have been rather trying, living in a house with so many visitors coming and going.’
‘It made no difference to me. In fact, it made my job easier, because it meant a change of faces and some different company for my patient. Some of my posts have involved quite lonely invalids, whereas Mr Edgerton remained surrounded by his family.’
‘You must have been in lots of interesting situations,’ Fran said. ‘Of course, Sunnyside House is in quite an isolated position. It must be a good deal more convivial to have a position down here in London. I hope you have found a nice situation?’
‘I have given up nursing professionally, in order to take care of my mother.’
‘Oh, I see … I’m so sorry …’
‘There is no need to be. I always intended Sunnyside House to be my final post. When I left, I spent three weeks in Stoke-on-Trent, taking care of an old friend who was convalescing after an operation and then I came home to live with Mother.’
