Secrets at Wallisford Hall

by C. G Oster

  "Mr. Turman?" Ridley said as he stepped out of the car.

  "That be me," the man said.

  Ridley introduced himself and quickly acknowledged Dory. The man nodded her way, but his eyes barely left DI Ridley's. "We were hoping we could have a look at Tilda's bicycle."

  "Why'd you be wanting to look at Tilda's bicycle?" the man asked, a hint of suspicion in his eyes.

  "To look at the damage. Do you still have it?"

  "It's out the back," he said, indicating toward a building storing a tractor. The man walked away. He wasn't coming with them. Perhaps he didn't want to see it and be reminded of what had happened.

  Ridley looked over at her and then started walking toward the edge of the building. Dory followed.

  The grass was overgrown and there were all sorts of rusting equipment leaned up against the back of the building. On first sight, Dory saw no bicycle, but Ridley started moving to a lump covered with a brown tarp. Underneath was a bicycle, and clearly, it was brown in color.

  "Not blue," Dory said.

  "No, not blue," Ridley repeated absently.

  The bicycle was an absurd shape, the front wheel bent and so was the handle bar. Detached spokes stuck out in impossible directions. As Dory watched, Ridley pulled out a magnifying glass and leaned closer. Then he stood up sharply and continued to take the tarp off it. "We need to take it with us," he said, lifting it up. Neither of the wheels rolled, the back section of the bicycle bent slightly. "Will you open the door of the car?"

  "Of course," Dory said and ran ahead. She opened the back door and Ridley lifted it in.

  "I'll just have a chat with Mr. Turman," he said and followed in the direction the man had gone. Dory took her seat in the front, turning slightly to look at the damaged bicycle. Whatever he'd seen with his magnifying glass had made him decide to take the bicycle with him.

  It took an age for Ridley to come back, but he finally did.

  "What did you see?" she asked when he stepped into the car and started the engine. "Did you see some blue paint?"

  "It could have been. Hard to tell. We'll know more after it is properly examined."

  Thoughts were racing through Dory's mind again. He wouldn't have taken it if he didn't suspect there was, or had seen what looked like blue paint. If confirmed, this meant a clear link between Tilda's bicycle and one of the Wallisford cars. Even just the paint on the stone wall suggested there was, but on the bicycle itself, it would be absolutely irrefutable.

  This was the motive. This was the reason Nora had been murdered. She had seen the link between the scratches on the car and the death of this girl. Perhaps she had even found the paint on the stone wall like they had, had been out on this road to get that confirmation. Obviously, she had confronted someone with what she knew and been murdered for it. If only she hadn't been so secretive. She could be alive now, but she had kept it to herself and now she was dead.

  "I'll take you home," Ridley said.

  "But my bicycle."

  "The constable will drop it off later. We've had enough bicycles on roads just lately," he said vaguely. In truth, she would be thinking of being run off the road the entire way back if she were to cycle. The previous incident of Vivian almost doing so returned to her mind. It had been so close, she had almost been knocked over by the sheer wind.

  So this meant it could very well be Vivian responsible. He had a habit of driving fast and carelessly. The thought sat uncomfortably in her stomach.

  Chapter 26

  Ridley drove Dory straight to Wallisford Hall. They didn't speak much on the way back. To Dory's dismay, Ridley wasn't immediately going to question people at the Hall.

  "It would be better if I knew for certain that there is paint on the wall and the paint on the bicycle, and if they are the same color as the car. Now, you go inside," he said. It wasn't so much a suggestion as an order and Dory couldn't do anything other than comply. He was a man used to giving orders by the ease in which he uttered them, expecting to be heeded.

  As she watched, he walked toward the garage. Why couldn't she come with him?

  Then he turned. "And Dory," he said. "It's best you let me handle things now. You've been instrumental, but we might be coming down to the nitty gritty now and things need to be done the proper way. Don't discuss what we've learned today with anyone. Promise me," he said.

  Dory bit her lips together. In a way, she did understand that he wanted to get on with what he needed to do without interference, but it would be hard for her just to sit back and do nothing. This knowledge burned in her mind. "Fine, I won't discuss it with anyone," she said grudgingly, feeling as though she was being excluded from the most exciting part, left to go to her room like a chided child.

  Ridley disappeared into the garage and Dory sighed. It had been an eventful day, a day that had had a significant development. They had established motive. Nora had been killed because she knew who had killed Tilda Turman. There was something very cruel and callous about that.

  Dory entered an empty kitchen. Somehow, she'd expected Gladys to be there, but she wasn't. In her haste that morning, she hadn't actually asked Gladys what her plans were for the day. Lady Pettifer was out visiting again. In fact, the whole house seemed empty. Surely not everyone had left?

  Grabbing a shortbread biscuit, Dory stood in the silent kitchen and ate. She really wanted a cup of tea, but couldn't be bothered boiling a pot just for herself. Perhaps she would wait for some of the others to return, but it would be hard to sit there and not tell people that she knew why Nora Sands had been murdered.

  Someone in this house was responsible and goosebumps rose across her skin thinking about it. It had been someone who knew how to drive, so automatically that excluded Gladys, not that Gladys would ever murder someone. In fact, Gladys wouldn't be able to live with a guilty conscience for anything, let alone causing the death of some cyclist on the road.

  One of the unanswered questions returned to Dory's mind. Where had this person come from? As far as she knew, most people here came and went from either Aylesbury or London. Milton Keynes was up that way, but Dory didn't exactly know what else. Geography had never been her strong suit. Almost everything north of London was up there. What she really wanted was a map. It shouldn't prove impossible to find a map.

  Dory stepped out of the kitchen and was met by nothing other than silence, so she walked up the stairs to the main family floor, and again, no one was around. Quietly, she walked across the main hallway and made her way to the library. She'd had to dust here every so often. Books created a surprising amount of dust.

  The room was empty and quiet, dark cabinetry holding countless books. Some of them even looked medieval with worn and faded leather spines and gold writing. It took some time to find an Atlas, but she found a large, green book and brought it over to the table in the center of the room.

  The initial map showed all of Britain, but didn't have enough detail. It took going through half the book before she found one that even showed Aylesbury. Quainton was a tiny dot, and Pitchcott wasn't even mentioned. With what she knew of the roads, she could identify the Willows, the A41, and the Common Road—in larger context, Pitchcott Road—she had learned that day, was to the north. A tiny line showed the road on the map. Moving her eyes, she saw Milton Keynes and Luton, but saw no reason why anyone would go there, unless it was one of the serving staff who had family there and thought nothing of stealing the family car for an outing to see their family. The idea seemed unlikely.

  Moving her gaze along, her eyes settled on Cambridge. Milton Keynes sat between Quainton and Cambridge and there were certainly people in this family that had reason to go there.

  With a slump, she sat down in a chair. It felt as though another thing had clicked into place. A creak alerted her that someone was around and she quickly closed the Atlas just as the door was opened.

  "I thought I heard someone walking around," Vivian said in his bored and lazy tones. "What are you doing in here?"

  "I
was just looking for a book," she said, "on… birds."

  "Birds?" Vivian said with surprise.

  "I saw a strange one. Red chest and yellow beak." Her voice sounded thin, even to her own ears. She had never been an accomplished liar.

  "You're asking the wrong person. Unless I can shoot it, I pay little attention to birds. Never took you for a budding ornithologist."

  Dory didn't exactly know what the word meant, but got the gist of it. In fact, she knew nothing about birds, shooting worthy or not, but it was the excuse that popped into her head.

  "You should go before Mother sees you in here. She's not really the liberal kind if you hadn't noticed."

  Dory had noticed, alright. Lady Wallisford liked clear distinction between family and servant. Vivian seemed less fussed, or perhaps that only applied to certain maids. Dory refused the blush that threatened to color her cheeks. She would not blush for a man like Vivian. "I understand there is a department that studies such things at Cambridge. They have taxidermized animals of all sorts, I have heard."

  "Not really my area, but I'm sure they do. Natural science or something of that ilk. Why do you ask?" There was a curious suspicion in his eyes, as though this conversation was completely unexpected. She probably was making a complete hash job of this.

  "No reason," she said, standing up. "You must get homesick when you are there."

  He snorted. "Truthfully, I spend as little time here as I have to. I'm certainly not going to run home in the middle of term for the comforts of home fires burning." Sarcasm laced his voice.

  "So you didn't come home this last term at all?"

  "I only come home when they kick me out at the end of the year. And Christmas, of course. Not even I can avoid Christmas, although I have tried on occasion. Mother won't have it and she can be a pain in the arse when she wants something."

  "Oh," Dory said with a frown. Was it true that he had not come home at all since Christmas?

  "What are you up to, Miss Sparks?"

  "Nothing," Dory said. "Just making conversation."

  He didn't look appeased.

  "As you say, I should make myself scarce before your mother sees me."

  "Good idea," he said, his eyes following her as she quickly placed the Atlas back. "Although you won't find many birds in there."

  "I gave up. Turned my attention to what I will do for my holidays."

  "And what have you decided?"

  "I haven't yet."

  "Some seaside holiday park?" he said with derision.

  "You know us working-class people. We love our seaside holidays," she said tartly. Never had she been on one, but the derision in his voice made her hackles rise and she couldn't help being a little acerbic back.

  Dory left the room without another word. If it were true that Vivian hadn't left Cambridge during the term, he could not be responsible—unless he knocked a girl off the road and then decided to not carry on with his intended journey. But the car had been taken and returned to the garage, so it categorically couldn't be him. It had to be someone else. It could even be George, who had full and unencumbered access to the cars. He could have lied about not knowing where the scratches came from.

  Vivian, the most likely suspect in her mind was ruled out. She really should let Ridley know about this. He would likely tell her off for doing exactly what he'd asked her not to do, but she had been quite clever about it, not revealing a thing of what they'd learnt. Still, he wouldn't be happy, but this information was more important than DI Ridley's displeasure. Once he spotted the connection with Cambridge, he would assume Vivian was responsible, too.

  Dory just had to establish if what Vivian said was true, and that shouldn't be difficult. Even Gladys would know if Vivian had returned from university at any point during the term. Somehow Dory expected that he had told her the truth.

  Chapter 27

  "How are you, dear?" Lady Pettifer asked when Dory arrived in her room. "I hope you had an interesting day."

  "I did," Dory said, busying herself by folding some of Lady Pettifer's clothes. "How was Lady Hallstaff?"

  "Suffers from her ailments. Ever since she was a young woman, she has suffered from ailments. They're all in her head, of course. She's healthy as a horse, but refuses to acknowledge it."

  Dory nodded absently.

  "Did you see that handsome detective in the village, by any chance?" she asked, her eyes piercing Dory from where she sat by the window with a book in her lap. Against her own will, Dory blushed. "Still milling around, it seems."

  "Yes," Dory said, clearing her throat.

  "He must still believe there are some means of solving this murder," Lady Pettifer continued. Dory still felt the woman's attention on her and Dory turned away. The truth was that the investigation was increasingly pointing in the direction of the family, and that was something Lady Pettifer would not like hearing. "Did he mention any developments to his investigation?"

  Dory continued to burn red, keeping her face away from Lady Pettifer.

  "Come on now, Dory, spit it out. I can tell you know something."

  With a sigh, Dory turned around. What was the point in lying? DI Ridley wasn't going to hide the fact that DI Ridley's attention had turned to the lordship's Allard. Sitting down heavily, she looked at Lady Pettifer, not wanting to be the one to bring this news to her. "It seems, or DI Ridley suspects, that one of Lord Wallisford's cars was involved in an incident on the road a few months back where a girl was killed."

  The frown on Lady Pettifer's face was so deep that her eyebrows looked as one. "And what's led him to believe this?"

  "Well, this road was where Nora Sands was seen cycling."

  "The Common Road," Lady Pettifer cut in.

  "It is believed that Nora was looking into this, hence the interest she had shown in Michael Jones' work repairing cars."

  Lady Pettifer rose from her position and paced, her fingers pressed to her mouth.

  "There appears to be paint on a stone wall near the site where the girl was run off the road and on the bicycle the girl was on at the time, that could potentially to have come from the lordship's Allard. And I am also breaking his confidence by telling you this." It didn’t feel good, but her loyalty felt divided between Ridley and Lady Pettifer. She and Lady Pettifer had been partners in their interest in what had happened to Nora Sands.

  With this news, Lady Pettifer gasped. "It can't be true," she stated. "Any blue car could be responsible for what happened to that girl." The weakness in her voice showed that she wasn't anywhere near certain about what she was saying.

  "I am sure DI Ridley is making inquiries about all blue cars that have been repaired in the district recently."

  "It doesn't have to be in the district. Anyone could be traveling through."

  "Yes, but who would be driving down Pitchcott Road if they weren't going to Quinton?"

  The deep frown remained on Lady Pettifer's brow and Dory felt awful having to bring this news. DI Ridley was homing in on the family and there was no question about it. Again, it could be that someone else had driven the car, but really, would any of the servants simply borrow a car? Larry and some of the gardeners drove, but they would never dream of taking the Allard.

  "Leave me," Lady Pettifer urged. "I don't think I will be going down to supper tonight. I feel a headache coming on."

  Still feeling awful, Dory did as she was asked, silently closing the door as she left Lady Pettifer's room.

  "What's wrong with you?" Mavis asked as Dory walked further down the hall. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

  Dory tried to smile. "It's just been a long day. Are you ready to go downstairs and help with supper?"

  "Is Lady Pettifer not coming down?"

  "No, she is going to stay in her room."

  "We better tell Gladys to prepare a tray for her."

  Dory nodded and followed Mavis down the servants' staircase to the basement. It felt like the house had a heavy atmosphere. People knew that DI Ridley had been s
pending time in the garage, and even if they couldn't guess the reason, they knew he had found something—something that was leading back to the house.

  *

  With Clara taken down by a cold, Dory offered her service to help with the family supper. After the visit with the party of politicians and other notables, her service wasn't quite as offensive as it used to be. It was an improvement in relations between her and the rest of the staff. Still, it wasn't entirely comfortable and Dory spent much more time in her room than she used to.

  The family was quiet during supper that night. It was as if none of them wanted to speak to each other. Livinia was the only one trying to make conversation, but no one responded with more than a word or two, and eventually she gave up too with a great sigh.

  Vivian was downcast, barely looking up from the table where he studiously eyed his wine glass. He wasn't holding back with the wine and Mr. Holmes had to refill his glass repeatedly.

  As he often did, he completely ignored Dory when she brought his plate over from the serving table.

  "I hear the Mawstaffs are in residence at the moment," Lady Wallisford stated, breaking the heavy silence.

  "Oh," Lord Wallisford responded, as if pleased there was something to discuss. The scowl on Livinia's face only deepened when it became apparent that her topics were of no interest, but the pointless movements of the Mawstaffs were. "He's coming back for the hunting season. Never was much of hunter. Aim's shot. Can't hit a thing further than thirty yards, and he's struggling even at that."

  Dory listened while she worked. Someone around this table had murdered Nora Sands—Dory was sure of it. And chances were that they were driving to Cambridge.

  If Vivian's assertion that he hadn't left all term was true, then it wasn't him. Livinia hadn't been around while Tilda was murdered, which left three—Lord Wallisford, Lady Wallisford and Cedric.