Death Around the Bend (A Lady Hardcastle Mystery Book 3)

by T E Kinsey

  ‘Yes?’ he said, somewhat more enthusiastically than usual. ‘What’s that?’

  ‘You can direct me to the tennis courts.’

  ‘Ah, Flo, there you are. Be a love and pass me that towel. I’m all of a pother, as they say round our way.’

  ‘You look . . .’ I lowered my voice so as not to be overheard. ‘To be honest, you look a horrific, sweaty mess, my lady. Are you sure you’re all right?’

  Lady Hardcastle laughed. ‘It turns out that while one never forgets how to strike a good solid forehand smash, the heart and lungs do tend to grow more reluctant to keep the old body moving about at a sufficient pace to make proper use of it.’

  ‘You poor old thing,’ I said, handing her the towel. ‘Imagine how bad it will get when you actually are old.’

  ‘Well, quite,’ she said, sitting on one of the benches beside the court, fanning herself with the towel.

  I looked across the grass to where Mrs Beddows was talking animatedly to Miss Titmus. ‘Is Mrs Beddows winning, then?’ I asked.

  ‘Is she, heck! I’m demolishing her!’

  ‘Well done, you,’ I said. ‘Actually, that would explain her thunderous demeanour. I don’t fancy Betty’s chances when she turns up. It’s odds-on where the wrath will be directed.’

  ‘We shall have to keep her attention elsewhere, then. We’ll be saving her from herself – it just doesn’t do to bully the servants. In public, at least.’

  ‘If they only knew, my lady.’

  ‘Indeed. Is there any cordial left in that jug?’

  I poured her a glass.

  The gentlemen were playing doubles on the adjacent court, interrupted intermittently by Lord Riddlethorpe’s exuberant Dalmatians. It seems they had been pressed into service as ball girls, but were having trouble understanding the limits of their duties. As well as retrieving balls that had gone out of play, they were also attempting to catch some of the slower-moving shots on the court itself.

  Lady Lavinia was looking on with an indulgent fondness that wasn’t always directed towards the dogs.

  ‘I thought the ladies would be playing doubles, too,’ I said. ‘Why isn’t Lady Lavinia playing?’

  ‘It would have been much more fun, wouldn’t it?’ Lady Hardcastle said as she drank. ‘We were ready to start – I was partnered with Helen – but when Harry pitched up in his flannels, Jake went weak at the knees and drifted off to watch the chaps. Helen didn’t really want to play anyway, so it was left to me and Roz. Luckily, she couldn’t hit an elephant’s backside with a banjo, so my honour has been saved.’

  ‘Not an entirely wasted morning, then.’

  ‘Not in the least. What about your morning? What news from your agent?’ she asked. ‘Did he prove worthy of your faith in him?’

  ‘I think I’ve already said that I had no faith in him whatsoever. As it transpires, though, I was wrong. He turned up trumps. Or it appears he did. He might have made it all up, of course.’

  I handed her the crumpled copy of the letter, and recounted the brief conversation I’d had with Evan in the kitchen yard.

  ‘Other than a couple of spelling mistakes, it certainly seems like a formal business letter,’ she said. ‘Do you think Evan is capable of composing such a thing on his own?’

  ‘He might be surly and resentful, but he’s also bright and self-confident,’ I said. ‘He’s quick-thinking and cunning. He’d make a decent petty criminal – or spy, for that matter. But I think he lacks the education and experience to be able to come up with something like that on his own. He might have had help, of course, but I’m beggared if I know where from.’

  ‘Well, then, let’s take this letter at face value. It’s nothing incriminating on its own, mind you, just an invitation to begin negotiations. What about Evan’s report of the conversation?’

  ‘He might have coloured it, but why would he bother? Even if he’s embellished it a little, I think the general gist – Herr Kovacs wants to buy the team, Mr Waterford doesn’t want to sell, and Kovacs expected the crash to help him – is probably dead-on. Again, unless someone else’s hand is guiding him, I can’t see what he has to gain from making it up.’

  ‘Aside from the money you gave him,’ she said.

  ‘He’d have got that whatever he told me,’ I said. ‘He could have made up any old story, but the story he tells fits our own ponderings precisely.’

  ‘True, true. And he had no idea what our ponderings were. I’d say this puts Herr Kovacs squarely in the frame.’

  ‘It certainly does seem that way,’ I said. ‘I’ll make sure Evan keeps an eye on him.’

  ‘Thank you. Right, well, we’ve had our little breather. One more set for the match, then I can pass out in a flowerbed somewhere.’

  ‘I thought there was croquet next.’

  ‘Blasted croquet. Don’t remind me.’ She stood. ‘Ready, Roz?’ she called. ‘One more set should do it, don’t you think?’

  Mrs Beddows thrust her spare racket into Miss Titmus’s hands and stomped on to the court.

  I felt a tap on my shoulder.

  ‘What have I missed?’ asked Betty.

  ‘I’ve only just got here myself,’ I said. ‘I gather Mrs Beddows is being roundly thrashed, so there might have been some interesting tennis. On the other hand, Lady Hardcastle claims she’s struggling a bit herself, so it might not have been so thrilling after all. Oh, I say!’

  Lady Hardcastle’s forehand passing shot had left Mrs Beddows looking helpless and bewildered in the middle of the court. Bewilderment rapidly gave way to her customary look of displeasure. She caught Betty’s eye, and indicated with a flick of her head that Betty should be on the other side of the court with Miss Titmus. I walked with her.

  ‘I’m for it now,’ said Betty as we rounded the baseline. ‘Somehow, that will definitely have been my fault.’

  Miss Titmus was sitting on the bench, nursing the spare tennis racket in its press. Her own racket was leaning against the bench.

  ‘Hello, you two,’ she said as we approached. ‘Come to watch the mighty gladiators at battle?’

  ‘Something like that, madam,’ I said. ‘Though we seem to have missed the best of it.’

  ‘It was the best of games, it was the worst of games,’ she said distractedly as Lady Hardcastle sent a perfectly judged lob sailing over Mrs Beddows’s head. ‘Poor Mrs Beddows hasn’t stood a chance.’

  Mrs Beddows stalked back to the baseline to serve.

  ‘Bad luck, Roz,’ called Miss Titmus. ‘Lovely shot, Emily.’

  The game was a short one, with Mrs Beddows’s service well and truly broken. She had managed to score no points at all, but there was no love in her eyes as she stalked back to her bench.

  ‘It must be this racket,’ she said. ‘Give me the other one.’

  Miss Titmus meekly handed her the racket. Mrs Beddows snorted frustratedly as she loosened the screws holding the press. I got the feeling she had expected her friend to do it for her.

  ‘What are you doing here, Buffrey?’ she said. ‘I thought you were mending my dress.’

  ‘All done, madam,’ said Betty. ‘I thought I’d come and cheer you on.’

  Mrs Beddows snorted again. With a peremptory flick of her fingers, she indicated that she wanted the glass of cordial. Smiling, Miss Titmus passed it to her.

  ‘I’d better get back,’ said Mrs Beddows. ‘Keep an eye on that Hardcastle woman. I’m sure she must be cheating somehow.’ She glared at me.

  ‘Oh, Roz, don’t be so silly. She’s a very good player, that’s all,’ said Miss Titmus.

  Mrs Beddows stalked down to the other end of the court.

  ‘She didn’t mean it,’ said Miss Titmus. ‘That your mistress is cheating, I mean. One shouldn’t speak ill of one’s friends, but Mrs Beddows has never been a gracious loser.’

  ‘Thank you, madam,’ I said. ‘But please don’t worry. I’m surprised and delighted that Lady Hardcastle is doing so well. I’m certain she isn’t cheating. Though I’m
equally certain that if she were, we’d not be able to spot it. She’s quite the dab at underhandedness and skulduggery when she puts her mind to it.’

  Miss Titmus laughed. ‘Surely not,’ she said.

  ‘You’d be surprised, madam,’ I said. ‘There’s a Prussian colonel who lost his fortune, his mistress, and his political influence all on the same night thanks to Lady Hardcastle’s skills with a pack of cards. All for king and country, of course.’

  ‘King and country?’ said Miss Titmus.

  ‘A diplomatic incident was averted.’

  ‘Gracious. What happened to his mistress?’

  ‘He had to take back the diamond necklace he’d just given her. A gentleman must settle his debts. She didn’t stay long after that. Who would have thought bridge could be such a dangerous game?’

  She laughed again. ‘I never know whether you and Lady Hardcastle are teasing me,’ she said. ‘Oh, I say, good shot, Emily!’

  The set didn’t last long. Mrs Beddows stomped over to us and all but threw her racket at Betty.

  ‘I need to change for croquet. Hurry up, Buffrey.’

  She marched away in the direction of the house. Betty gathered up the two tennis rackets and hurried after her.

  Lady Hardcastle came over to join us.

  ‘That poor girl,’ said Miss Titmus. ‘Roz runs her ragged. I’m sure she doesn’t mean to. She seems to have a lot on her mind at the moment. She’s been very distracted lately, you see. I think’ – she looked around to make sure no one could overhear her – ‘that her husband’s affairs are becoming a bit more . . . blatant. I’ve tried to talk to her, you know, get her on her own, but I never seem to be able to.’

  ‘Beard her in her lair one evening,’ said Lady Hardcastle.

  ‘I’ve tried that, but she never seems to be in her room. Do you remember the party? Oh, it seems so long ago now, after what’s happened since. She was so distracted. I tried to speak to her after that, but I couldn’t find her.’

  ‘Not in her room?’ asked Lady Hardcastle. ‘When was this?’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know. It must have been about three o’clock. She was probably out walking the grounds, poor thing. But I do wish she wouldn’t take it out on Buffrey. I don’t know how she puts up with it.’

  ‘Betty?’ said Lady Hardcastle. ‘I’d intended to divert some of the fire, but I seem to be too late. Ah well. I say, perhaps you should offer her a job, Helen. Lure her into a more unruffled life. Surely you could make use of a lady’s maid?’

  ‘Perhaps I should,’ said Miss Titmus. ‘It might be fun to have an ally against my housekeeper.’

  Lady Hardcastle put her arm around Miss Titmus’s shoulder, and we all started walking. ‘You’re a perfect match, you two,’ she said. ‘Where are they off to, anyway? I thought the croquet lawn was this way.’

  ‘It is. Roz has gone to change.’

  Lady Hardcastle laughed loudly enough to draw curious glances from the gentlemen. They were also packing up, ready for the main attraction: the great croquet match.

  ‘I suggest double-doubles,’ said Lord Riddlethorpe, as the houseguests assembled on the croquet lawn.

  ‘Really, Fishy,’ said Lady Lavinia. ‘You do talk such utter rot. What on earth is double-doubles?’

  ‘We play doubles, but each partner is actually two people. Four a-side, d’you see? Each pair owns a ball. Sort it out between you who takes the shot. Any ball moved by the dogs has to be played from where they leave it, mind you. They’re an additional hazard.’

  ‘Girls against boys? Or draw lots for partners?’ suggested Mr Waterford.

  ‘You can draw lots if you like, dear,’ said Lady Lavinia. ‘But I’m playing with Harry.’

  There followed a good deal of discussion, negotiation, and general horse-trading before the sides were finally agreed. I followed none of it, and instead sat with Betty on a stone bench beside the lawn.

  Croquet, it has always seemed to me, is a thoroughly pointless activity. I’ve never seen anyone who was able to play with any degree of skill. I’ve never seen a game where anyone actually cared about the result. Mostly it seems to be an opportunity to lark about outdoors while chattering inanely. Nothing wrong with tomfoolery and inane chatter, of course; it’s just that a croquet lawn always seems such a bland, featureless place to do it. What about a game of hide-and-seek in the woods? Or blind man’s buff by the lake? There were one or two in the party I’d have happily seen get a dunking.

  Lady Hardcastle wasn’t keen on the game, either, but she seemed to have been partnered with Miss Titmus, so at least she would have amiable company.

  Betty and I watched the proceedings with one eye each, in case we were called upon later to comment or commiserate. The play was as pedestrian and unskilled as predicted, although the Dalmatians did add a pleasing element of danger and unpredictability. I wondered if the Croquet Association might be persuaded to add ‘mischievous large dogs’ to its list of approved equipment. Most of our attention, though, was focused on earwigging their conversations as they passed us.

  ‘. . . but, of course, without his spectacles he had no idea which platform he was on, so he ended up at Norwich, still clutching the package of tripe.’

  ‘Oh, Emily, you are silly,’ said Miss Titmus.

  ‘To this day, no one knows what happened to the Polish attaché’s new boots.’

  I gave Lady Hardcastle a little salute as they passed by.

  Next to come past our bench were Herr Kovacs and Mrs Beddows. They said nothing. Indeed, it didn’t appear that they’d said anything at all to each other since they started playing. Their faces were impassive masks, either of intense concentration or complete distraction. I watched for a moment, and the poor quality of their play confirmed that it was the latter. They were both elsewhere.

  Lady Lavinia and Harry were altogether more talkative, but no more interested in the game.

  ‘Since we were at school, I think,’ said Lady Lavinia. ‘She was always the ringleader. I think it irks her that we’re not still all in her thrall.’

  ‘What about her husband?’ asked Harry. ‘She never talks about him.’

  ‘No, she never does. Theirs is not a relationship filled with love and romance.’

  ‘Which is why she didn’t bring him?’

  ‘Quite. She seldom allows him to accompany her. We always joke that she leaves him chained in the cellars when she’s away. Sometimes I wonder how much of a joke it really is.’

  Harry laughed.

  Mr and Mrs Beddows did not seem to fit anyone’s idea of a happy couple, I thought. If Miss Titmus’s assessment was correct, they were only one small indiscretion away from a scandal. Unless she had misinterpreted things, and Mrs Beddows was just worried that she’d not left him enough food in the cellar.

  I chuckled to myself. Betty looked questioningly at me, but I was unable to explain before Lord Riddlethorpe and Mr Waterford passed our way. They were similarly uninvolved in the game, but also deep in conversation.

  ‘. . . well, I’m not bally well selling it to him,’ said Lord Riddlethorpe. ‘We’ve only just launched the company and he’s already circling. I’m sure he means well. At least, I hope he does. But, I mean, really . . .’

  ‘Just bear it in mind, Fishy, that’s all,’ said Mr Waterford. ‘The newspapers don’t seem to have made much of it so far, but if any of them decides to cause a stir, we’re sunk. I’m not sure a new team could weather a scandal like that.’

  ‘Like what, exactly?’

  ‘Dilettante aristocrat playing at running a motor racing team; young driver killed in a racing game after a party. They could have a field day, if they chose to. And it’s only a matter of time before someone in Fleet Street chooses to.’

  ‘Is that how you see me, Monty? Just a dilettante aristocrat playing games?’

  ‘No, Fishy, of course not.’

  ‘Then stand beside me. We’ll have no more truck with Kovacs and his cynical dealings. We’ll just have to show him
who’s the best on the circuit. Shut him up for good.’

  Chapter Eleven

  The croquet match was abandoned when it finally descended into complete chaos. It hadn’t been far from disarray since it began, but when Lord Riddlethorpe and Lady Lavinia began some serious sibling sniping over the legality of an attempted stun shot, Lady Hardcastle calmly suggested that they call it a day. Mrs Beddows and Herr Kovacs declared themselves the winners, and no one else had the will to argue.

  The guests ate lunch on the terrace and the mood had lifted once competition was removed from the equation. Betty and I stayed to help serve once the household servants had brought everything out.

  ‘The problem with you, Jake,’ said Lord Riddlethorpe, ‘is that you’re too competitive.’

  ‘It’s your problem, too, brother dear,’ said Lady Lavinia. ‘You’ve never been able to cope with the fact that I’m so competitive. You never could stand being beaten by your little sister.’

  The guests laughed.

  ‘Not today, though, dear heart,’ he said. ‘Roz and Viktor won today.’

  ‘Nonsense,’ she said. ‘We let Roz say she’d won because she’s even more insufferable than you when she loses.’

  Most of the guests laughed. Mrs Beddows glowered.

  ‘We won fair and square,’ said Mrs Beddows. ‘Didn’t we, Viktor?’

  ‘Square und fair, ja,’ said Herr Kovacs, eliciting more laughter.

  ‘You can’t say fairer than that,’ said Lord Riddlethorpe.

  ‘Or squarer,’ said Mr Waterford.

  The laughter continued. Things, as far as I could see, were back to normal.

  ‘You three must have been a force to be reckoned with in your schooldays,’ said Mr Waterford.

  ‘Four, surely,’ said Herr Kovacs.

  ‘Four?’

  ‘Was there not a fourth girl that was mentioned the other evening? The girl next to Lavinia in the photograph?’

  ‘A story for another time, I think we said,’ said Lady Lavinia quickly.

  Lord Riddlethorpe steered the conversation in a fresh direction. ‘While we’re all here,’ he said, ‘I wonder if I might impose on you a little. It’s to do with the, ah . . .’