‘Please sit here, if you will. I only need to ask you a few questions and then you can go back to your father and brother.’ Deacon had mistaken her hesitation for confusion arising from deep sorrow and shock; it did not occur to him for one moment that she might be evaluating his looks. He on the other hand was appraising her. He had known from the society pages that she would be a great beauty, but he had not been prepared for how very beautiful she was. The red rimmed eyes and red nose, outward signs that she had been crying, could not disguise the fact; if anything they added something, a certain fragility which was appealing and made her appear less cold and aloof. Even so, it was not lost on him that not once did she turn to acknowledge the presence of his sergeant; it was as if the man was invisible or perhaps not important enough to register.
‘Is what Cedric says correct? That it must be one of us because of Uncle William’s gun being the murder weapon?’
‘Yes,’ Deacon said, gently, ‘I’m afraid so, it –.’
‘Then it must be Rose.’
‘I beg your pardon, Lady Lavinia?’ The inspector was not often taken aback by things said by witnesses and suspects, but this was one such occasion. Even Sergeant Lane had looked up with an appalled expression on his face. It was not just the words themselves that had shocked them, but the way she had said it so dismissively and yet with such certainty that her manner demanded no contradiction.
‘What makes you say that exactly, Lady Lavinia? In our view she is the only person here who could not possibly be the murderer.’
‘Because she hated my mother, that’s why.’
‘Did she actually say that she hated your mother?’
‘No, of course not, Inspector. She’s not that stupid; she just told me that she didn’t think my mother liked her very much. And, of course, my mother didn’t because she saw right through her from the start. I’m afraid I’ve always been rather a trusting person, Inspector. It’s my greatest flaw. I assumed that Rose liked me for myself. I never imagined that she had only become my friend so as to secure herself a decent husband, a man of means and social standing that she would never have met had it not been for my decision to work in the same dress shop that she worked in.’
‘You got all this from your mother, Lady Lavinia?’
‘Yes, oh and from Hugh too, Marquis Sneddon, you know. Apparently she made a play for him once she knew that he was heir to a dukedom. Awfully embarrassing for him, of course, he didn’t know what to do.’
‘Lord Sneddon told you this?’
‘Yes. He didn’t want to, of course. Not with Rose being my friend, but he thought it was his duty to. Apparently he told mother as well, that’s what she asked to see him about when he went to see her yesterday afternoon. She got wind of it from one of the servants; the servants here are awfully protective of us, you know, Inspector.’
‘How do you know that’s what your mother wanted to see Lord Sneddon about?’
‘Hugh told me. He was awfully glum when he came back from seeing Mother, and I wouldn’t let him be until I’d found out exactly what she had said to him.’
‘I see. But why exactly do you think Miss Simpson would go so far as to shoot your mother? It seems a very drastic thing to do in the circumstances.’
‘Because she saw my mother as the only thing stopping her from marrying Cedric, of course. Although hopefully with everything that’s happened my brother will see sense. She must have known that my mother would never have stood by and watched Cedric waste his life. And so she got rid of her, just like that.’ Lavinia’s bottom lip trembled and Deacon was afraid that she was going to cry, but she managed to pull herself together at the last moment. ‘Oh, if only Uncle William hadn’t shown us his stupid pistols and Hugh hadn’t asked where he kept the ammunition, then this might never have happened. Of course, if my stupid brother hadn’t decided to come down then it wouldn’t have been an issue anyway. I can’t bear it.’ The tears that had been threatening to fall exploded, and Lavinia sobbed bitterly, and very beautifully, into a small lace handkerchief that she held clutched in her hand for the purpose.
The two policemen sat there awkwardly, wondering how long they should give her to weep before they tried to continue with their questioning, knowing all the time that each second that passed was precious to the investigation.
‘I don’t wish to trouble you, Lady Lavinia,’ Deacon began attentively, ‘ I can see how distressing this all is for you, but if you could bear with me just a little longer and answer a couple more questions, then you can go to your family and hopefully we won’t need to trouble you again.’
‘Very well, Inspector, I’ll do my best,’ Lavinia dabbed at her eyes very prettily with her handkerchief.
‘Apart from Miss Simpson, is there anyone else that you can think of who might wish your mother harm?’
‘No, no-one, Inspector. My mother was very well respected. She did a great deal of charitable work, you know. She could be a bit harsh at times if things didn’t go her own way, but she always had everyone’s best interests at heart.’
‘I see. Now, if you wouldn’t mind telling me where you were this morning between half past nine and half past ten. We’re asking everyone for their movements, you understand.’
‘Well, I was in bed, Inspector, with a very bad headache. I think it was all the worry about Rose’s conduct.’
‘Can anyone corroborate that, Lady Lavinia?’
‘Well, I suppose Martha can to an extent, she’s the parlour maid that’s acting as my lady’s maid while I’m here, Inspector. She brought me in a cup of tea. Oh, but wait, silly me, that was much earlier, about eight o’clock, I think. I sent her away then, told her I didn’t want her to run my bath or put out my clothes until eleven. So no, no I don’t think after all there is anyone that can vouch for me. Is that a problem, Inspector?’
‘No, not at all, Lady Lavinia. Now, just one final question. Did you know that your mother intended going on a walk with Miss Simpson this morning?’
‘Yes, of course, I heard her tell Rose last night.’
‘You didn’t consider trying to stop it from taking place?’
‘No, of course not, Inspector, I thought it served Rose jolly well right.’
‘Well, she’s a nasty piece of work, and no mistake, sir, notwithstanding that she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,’ said Lane, indignantly, as soon as the door had closed behind Lavinia. ‘Fancy her saying what she did about Miss Simpson, and her being her friend as well. Makes you wonder, doesn’t it, sir, why she ever invited Miss Simpson to spend the weekend with her aunt and uncle if she thought so little of her.’
‘I think Lady Lavinia’s used to being the centre of attention, Sergeant, and doesn’t take too kindly to the crown being taken from her,’ said Deacon, getting up and stretching his legs by pacing the room. ‘She’s remarkably beautiful and the only daughter of an earl to boot, so there can’t be that many occasions when she finds herself outshone by someone else and she must find it particularly galling to be outshone by a shop girl. I imagine she considered Miss Simpson her own special friend and resents the fact that her friend and her brother are so obviously besotted with each other. Notwithstanding all her privileges and accomplishments, I bet Lady Lavinia has got few of what you’d call true friends and that she considered Miss Simpson to be one.’
‘That’s all very well, sir,’ said Lane, not easily appeased, ‘but it was awful what she said just now, trying to implicate her friend in her mother’s murder.’
‘She’s probably afraid of the alternatives, Sergeant.’
‘What do you mean, sir?’
‘Well, assuming she didn’t do it, unless it was Miss Simpson or Mrs Torrington, Lady Belvedere’s murderer must either have been one of her own family or the man Lady Lavinia hopes to marry. Not very palatable alternatives for the girl to swallow, I think. What do you say to that Lane?’
‘Well, sir. I think as she might have done it,’ answered the Sergeant, smugly. ‘You’
ll agree that there is a possibility that the intended murder victim was Miss Simpson?’ The inspector nodded. ‘If Lady Lavinia thinks she’s been used and that Miss Simpson’s been making a pass at her beau and at the same time she doesn’t want her to marry her brother, well, it stands to reason that she might fancy taking a pot shot at Miss Simpson herself, either to warn her off, or to kill her. Well, Lady Lavinia’s own brother let slip as to what a good shot she is and she admitted herself that she knew Miss Simpson was going on a walk with her mother. And she’s no alibi to speak of. Let’s suppose that she had the young lady in her aim, and then Miss Simpson stumbles just as she pulls the trigger and she kills her mother instead. It would have been an awful shock for her, and like as not she would have blamed Miss Simpson, so stands to reason that she’ll want to implicate her somehow.’
‘I like your logic, Lane,’ admitted Deacon, stroking his chin, ‘you may have something there, although I’d like to keep an open mind for the time being.’
When Lavinia entered the dining room, she found it difficult not to feel guilty when she caught Rose’s eye and received a sympathetic smile from her friend. It really was too bad, all this. She didn’t want Rose to hang for her mother’s murder, certainly not, but what else could she do but throw suspicion onto her friend? The alternative was too awful to contemplate. As it was, the newspapers were already going to have a field day. How much worse would it be if a member of the aristocracy was accused of the murder? No, she really must protect him. She was sure it was what her mother would have wanted. She just had to keep her nerve; she was sure that everything would turn out alright in the end, it had to.
‘Good afternoon, Lady Withers, if you could take a seat just there. Ah, Sir William, have you something further to add?’
‘I hope you don’t mind if I sit in with my wife, Inspector,’ Sir William said, rather apologetically. ‘This has all been a dreadful shock for her and my wife is inclined to be a bit absent minded and vague at the best of times.’
‘Not at all, Sir William,’ replied Deacon, although he would have preferred to interview Lady Withers without her husband present. ‘I would ask you, however, if you would be so good as not to interrupt.’
‘Of course, of course, Inspector, I understand fully.’ Sir William seated himself beside his wife on the settee and patted her hand affectionately.
‘Well I must say, this is jolly exciting, Inspector, I’ve never been questioned about a murder before,’ said Lady Withers, sitting up straight and placing her hands primly together in her lap. ‘Obviously, it’s jolly sad and I would have much preferred to have been interviewed about someone else’s murder besides my sister’s, well, not yours, of course, darling,’ Lady Withers said, bestowing on her husband a very bright smile.
‘Do stop rambling, my dear,’ Sir William said, looking embarrassed. ‘The inspector will think that you didn’t care at all for your sister.’
‘Oh, but that’s not true at all. It’s only because I’m still in shock. I’m sure the inspector understands, he must be used to interviewing people like me, aren’t you, Inspector.’
‘Indeed, Lady Withers. I appreciate that this will be an ordeal for you, but if you wouldn’t mind answering a few questions. Let’s begin with your sister’s visit. Am I right in thinking that you weren’t expecting her this weekend that in fact she invited herself down?’
‘She didn’t exactly invite herself down, Inspector, she just got her butler to ring up Stafford to announce that she was on her way. Most inconsiderate, but that was always her way, I’m afraid. For all she knew, we were going to have a very large house party this weekend, and there wouldn’t have been room for everyone. She’d probably have sent us down to sleep in the stables and taken our rooms, don’t you think, William? It’s just the sort of thing she would have done. Why, when she was staying with Lady –.’
‘My dear, I really don’t think that the inspector is interested in all that. To answer your question, Inspector, neither my wife nor I were expecting my sister-in-law and her husband this weekend; it was quite a surprise.’
‘Where were you this morning, Lady Withers, between say half past nine and half past ten?’
‘I was breakfasting in bed, Inspector. My lady’s maid brought my breakfast in to me at about twenty past nine, just scrambled egg and marmalade on toast, you know, but not the same toast you understand for the egg and marmalade, different slices because really they don’t mix, do they? And then I had two and a half cups of tea as I always do. And then Crimms ran my bath. It always takes her a while to get the temperature just right and I must have splashed around for a little while and then got dressed, at which time I suppose it must have been a quarter past ten or so. How am I doing, darling?’
‘Very well, my dear, if anything a little too much detail but I doubt the inspector minds that too much; much better than too little, what, Inspector?’
‘Yes, indeed. Very comprehensive, thank you, Lady Withers. Now tell me, are you aware of your sister having any enemies?’
‘Oh I expect she had loads, Inspector. In fact, I think you’d have a job finding anyone who actually liked her. I know she was my sister and all that, but she could be very unpleasant and unkind, couldn’t she, William? I’ve often said that –.’
‘Yes, thank you, Lady Withers,’ interrupted Deacon, hurriedly, ‘but were you aware of any specific enemies?’
‘Not as such, no, Inspector, although I have to admit there was one occasion when we were children when I was very sorely tempted to push my sister out of the window myself. She’d just pulled the legs off my favourite doll and cut its hair, and all because I wouldn’t play a game of snakes and ladders with her. Well, as I was saying, the window was open and she was leaning rather unwisely out of it, and it was just so tempting. It was all I could do to resist the temptation to pull her hair and push her out. Quite a nasty drop it would have been too.’
‘I’ll take that as a no, shall I, Lady Withers? Sir William, I don’t think I asked you what you did after you had finished breakfast, did I, Lane?’ Deacon looked to his sergeant who thumbed through the pages of his notebook and shook his head.
‘That’s easy, Inspector. I went to the drawing room and read the paper,’ said Sir William, sitting back in his seat, ‘I was expecting that one or other of our guests would join me in due course, but no-one did. I stayed there reading until Stafford came to find me to tell me about the shooting.’
‘Thank you. Now Lady Withers, did you happen to hear Lady Belvedere tell Miss Simpson last night in the drawing room after dinner that she would like her to go for a walk with her this morning?’
‘Of course I did, Inspector, I expect everyone did, although perhaps not William as you can be a little deaf, can’t you, darling?’ Lady Withers said, raising her voice rather unnecessarily considering that her husband was sitting right next to her.
‘Nonsense, my dear.’
‘Well, how do you explain, darling, that you often don’t hear a word I say to you about things and so I’m forced to repeat myself until I’m quite blue in the face, not to say bored. Why, I was telling you only the other day all about the very juicy gossip that I had gleaned at Mrs Atherton’s about Lady Belington’s niece, when I went there to sort the things out for the village bazaar, and a more strange assortment of donations I couldn’t imagine, but anyway, if you remember, you didn’t hear a word I said, I had to repeat myself at least twice.’
‘I’m afraid, my dear, that my hearing is sometimes rather selective where you are concerned,’ admitted Sir William, rather apologetically. ‘You know I don’t like gossip, it sets a very bad example to the servants. But as it happens, I didn’t hear your sister mention going on a walk with Miss Simpson. If I had, I’d have put a stop to it, I can tell you, Inspector,’ he continued, looking at the policeman and sounding indignant. ‘I’m blowed if I’d allow any guest of mine to be bullied in my own house, I can tell you; not on at all, I’d certainly have put a stop to it if I’d known
about it.’
‘Yes, yes, I’m sure you would have,’ said Lady Withers, patting his knee in what she intended to be a soothing manner. ‘But I expect everyone else heard. I’m afraid that I think that was Marjorie’s intention, to humiliate the poor girl, which really wasn’t very fair. I mean you can’t blame the girl, can you? It’s not really her fault if she wants to better her position, I’m sure I’d have done the same in her place.’
‘You think Miss Simpson was after Lord Sedgwick?’
‘Well, of course she was, Inspector, any fool could have seen that. But the surprising thing is that she seemed to be having some success. I mean the poor girl is such a plain little thing, isn’t she, William, she definitely was last in line when looks were handed out. But Cedric obviously saw something in her, although what exactly I can’t quite think, I mean the boy’s surrounded by loads of beautiful young women, being as he is so eligible and everything, so why he would choose little Miss Simpson –‘
‘Really, my dear,’ protested Sir William. ‘I think you are being most unkind about Lavinia’s friend.’
‘So do I,’ mouthed Lane silently, from where he sat scribbling, totally unseen by Sir William and Lady Withers, but catching the inspector’s eye.
‘All I’m saying, William, is that you can’t really blame the poor girl for shooting my sister, can you? I mean to say she was provoked. Goodness knows Marjorie’s provoked me often enough with her unkind words. It’s just fortunate for me, isn’t it, that Miss Simpson got in there first. Otherwise it could’ve been –.’
‘Constance!’ Sir William sounded shocked. ‘Please, Inspector, ignore what my wife’s just said, she doesn’t mean it at all about Miss Simpson or herself. I’m afraid she’s just said it for effect. Really, my dear, if you’re not careful, the Inspector will take what you’ve said seriously.’
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