Secrets at Wallisford Hall

by C. G Oster

Cedric ignored her as she placed his plate down, which wasn’t surprising as he never paid any heed to the staff. Did any of them actually care that Nora was dead and that one of them had stuck a knife in her back?

  Mr. Holmes was watching her like a hawk, as if suspecting that she was plotting something. There was a murderer in the house and she was the one treated with suspicion because she wanted to find out who was responsible.

  For a moment, she wondered if she should just leave, but it felt as though she was letting the murderer win. Ridley was homing in on the culprit and Dory felt sure it was only a matter of time now. It shouldn't prove impossible to discover who had driven the Allard.

  Chapter 28

  Ridley didn't appear again for a few days and Dory was starting to wonder what had happened. Surely he wasn't ending the investigation now that they were homing in on the culprit, but eventually, he did appear again, driving up to park right at the front entrance. That would likely bother a few people in the house, being the spot for honored guests when he was anything but.

  Mr. Holmes was left to deal with him and Dory gave him a quick wave from the landing above. He didn't give her more than a cursory glance and a tiny nod before being led into the parlor.

  "Must we be harassed by this infernal man forever?" Lady Wallisford asked as she walked past with Livinia. Dory turned her head away from them and busied herself with the wilting bouquet on a table.

  "He wishes to speak to us, Mama," Livinia said with her typical bored tone.

  "Yes, but there should be a limit to how much of our time he can command." They continued down the stairs and into the parlor; Dory only hearing mumbled voices prior to the door closing.

  They stayed for about ten minutes and then it was Vivian's turn. Dory returned to Lady Pettifer, finding her sitting at her table, writing a letter. "I understand Detective Ridley is here again."

  "Yes, he's in the parlor, currently questioning Vivian."

  Lady Pettifer sighed. There had been a distinct cooling in the relationships between Dory and Lady Pettifer since Dory had revealed the findings around the car. Dory was sorry for it, but there was nothing she could do to change it. It wasn't, after all, her fault, even though she sometimes felt as though people were assigning blame to her. The old adage of the messenger being at risk of being shot really was true, but what was she supposed to do—ignore everything and hope the culprit was never caught? If that was a requirement for working here, she was better off elsewhere.

  "Poor Vivian," Lady Pettifer said. "He's barely more than a boy."

  "He says he never left Cambridge all term, which Ridley should be able to establish."

  The answer didn't seem to comfort Lady Pettifer. "This constant suspicion and accusation will ruin the family."

  Dory tried to keep her expression cool. She had expected more from Lady Pettifer—that she would care about justice for Nora above how the family was perceived, but apparently not. Perhaps Dory was expecting too much.

  "It is all just awful," Lady Pettifer continued. She was quiet for a moment. "And Cedric?"

  Turning slightly, Dory shrugged. "I don't know. DI Ridley will establish his whereabouts, I suppose."

  Lady Pettifer worried her lip. "He's so young. Had his whole life in front of him. This all is giving me the most tremendous nerves." The lady had been very interested in this investigation—until it started pointing to a member of her family. Dory supposed she could understand. Someone was going to be caught for this and they would hang. It was hard to consider that happening to a family member, seeing such an outcome advance like an unstoppable train wreck.

  "I'm sorry," Dory said after a while.

  "It's not your fault," Lady Pettifer said with a labored smile. "There are no winners in a situation like this and the suffering is spread far and wide. It is an inordinately selfish act, murdering someone. Now go see what is happening downstairs."

  In a way, Dory didn't want to. She felt like she'd had enough of this investigation. It wasn't fun and exciting anymore. As they were coming closer to the truth, something very ugly was emerging, even if it wasn't entirely clear yet. But she nodded and left the room, returning to the landing about the main entrance, where she polished the rich, red wood of a mahogany table. If Mr. Holmes or Mrs. Parsons challenged her for being there, she would have to think of something to say. She was here on Lady Pettifer's orders after all, but it wouldn't do anything good for her standing downstairs.

  Cedric emerged from the parlor and it was Lord Wallisford's turn, who Dory could tell, even from up high, that he was thoroughly offended. He had a way of holding himself tall when he felt his due respect wasn't shown. DI Ridley's mandate couldn't take into account such position.

  A bang almost made Dory knock over the polish.

  "This is utterly stupid," a sharp voice said. Dory knew it was Vivian. He emerged from the salon on the other side. "I'm sick of being tugged around like a puppet in a show. Being subjected to one moron after another. When is charade going to end?" He marched up the stairs. "And you," he said when reaching the landing. "Always skulking around, looking for something titillating to entertain you. I hope you're getting a real show. How have they not managed to fire you yet?"

  His accusing voice boomed and echoed off the walls of the cavernous space. Mr. Holmes’ sharp and piercing eyes bored into her from downstairs. Dory opened her mouth as if unable to say anything. What could she say—that she was only here because Lady Pettifer asked her to be?

  He wasn’t finished. "You really think too much of yourself. You're just a stupid maid and a damned useless one at that." He threw her a disgusted look as if she was something nasty and smelly that had crawled out of the sea.

  Throughout his tirade, he hadn’t even slowed down, simply kept marching down a corridor until he turned the corner. Dory didn't know what to do. She had never been addressed like that before—her intelligence, purpose and usefulness entirely dismissed in one go. Perhaps not entirely true as it had happened roughly the same when she had spilled tea on the executive from London in her last job. She had spent days dissecting every word of the tirade, burning with shame and offense. At the time, she'd felt it had been an unnecessary cruelty.

  Seeking titillating entertainment was what he accused her of. The unjustness of it burned inside her chest. Firstly, he was giving himself too much credit for thinking she cared about his monstrous and stupid family. They were all awful—especially him, who had at some points even seemed to be friendly. Well, he had the potential to be friendly, although perhaps that was him trying to charm her into lowering her guard. If she actually had, she would be devastated now by a tirade like that. She had been utterly right not to trust him. When the pressure was on, he treated her like dirt under his shoe.

  The accusation still sat in Mr. Holmes eyes. She could feel him watching her. He would never address her in view of the family, or on the family floor, but there would be some point later downstairs when he would dress her down, reminding her what the proper code of conduct was—probably remind her again that if he had the means to fire her, he would. It didn't matter if Vivian Fellingworth was being mean and spiteful, accusing her of vile things that weren't true. The family was always right in their view.

  Vivian appeared again, still marching. This time he stared past her as if she wasn't there, carrying a leather bag with him as he made his way down the stairs and toward the front door, which he slammed loudly as he left. His car wailed to life and sped off in a roar.

  No doubt she would be accused of driving him from the house as well.

  "Was that Vivian?" Livinia asked, emerging from the salon. "What's put a bee in his bonnet? Always one for dramatics, isn't he?"

  Mr. Holmes didn't reply, but Dory was fairly certain he blamed her as if she was personally responsible for Vivian's mood swings and bad behavior. Anything to not blame the family and the people responsible for their own behavior. For some reason, it seemed appropriate to blame her.

  Lord Wallisford appea
red. "I need to make a phone call in my study, Holmes. Ensure I'm not disturbed." With a gruff grunt, he disappeared, and Dory felt it was a good time to do so herself, before Mr. Holmes decided it was time to have a little talk.

  Grabbing her bottle of polish and cloth, she decided to move along to a table out of view of the main entrance. The insults and accusations thrown her way still burned. And it wasn't just from Vivian—he was just the latest. Lady Wallisford had accused her. So had Mr. Holmes and Mrs. Parsons. It was as though if she went away, all the problems here would too—as if she personified the rot in this house. Didn't that just make her the ultimate scapegoat? Luckily, she hadn't been here at the time or they would all be trying to pin this murder on her.

  Chapter 29

  "My presence downstairs wasn't appreciated," Dory confessed when she returned to Lady Pettifer's room. "I am being accused of interfering."

  "By who?"

  "Everyone."

  "What happened? You look close to tears."

  She was close to tears. A painful lump burned in her throat. "Maybe it's time for me to leave."

  "Nonsense. You can't let people chase you away. Sit down, Dory," she ordered and Dory did as she was told, sitting down on the edge of the bed. She felt like a child about to be admonished—yet again. "You can't take it to heart that things are unpleasant. Something awful has happened and it takes something awful in return to sort it out."

  "It is as though everyone feels this should be swept under the carpet and are angry with me for not being complicit."

  "Not allowing something to be swept under the carpet is what makes you a stronger person, Dory. None of this is pleasant, but justice needs to be done. The person responsible should be the one bearing the brunt of it. Not you."

  "Even if it's someone from the family?" Dory challenged, even though she didn't want to.

  Lady Pettifer sighed. "I have been unfair to you, haven't I?"

  "Out of quite a few people here, you have been the kindest."

  "This is going to end unpleasantly and for the rest of us, that takes some preparation. I'm sorry if I was short with you. In no way are you responsible for this person's actions or the consequences coming back to roost."

  "Some have accused me of finding entertainment in all this."

  Lady Pettifer raised her eyebrow. "Vivian, I take it."

  Dory didn't want to confirm, but she wasn't about to lie and deny it either.

  "He does have a tendency to lash out, but we must be understanding of Vivian and the position he's in."

  Dory just about snorted when Lady Pettifer continued, the woman's gaze lost out the window. "I think he knows who's responsible, and I think he's known for some time. Growing up, he used to be so proud of his family and their position. He never questioned the rightness of any of it, but lately, particularly with this, all those perceptions have been challenged. It is a harsh thing to realize the people you respected and believed in are not what you thought there were."

  Although how anyone could live in this house and not see how awful these people were was beyond Dory, but she guessed she understood what Lady Pettifer was saying. "My brother always stands for pomp and ceremony, but at times focuses more on the spectacle than the underlying substance. Things are about to unravel, and we all know it. Just how it does so, we are yet to see."

  *

  Being seen with DI Ridley only added fuel to the fire, but Dory was beyond caring. There was nothing salvageable with her relationship with the family and the other staff. Mavis was still guardedly civil, but Clara was giving Dory the cold shoulder, ignoring her presence like most of the others. Clearly, she had put a foot wrong—or several, and was being censured. It was a censure she refused to accept.

  Gladys was caught in the middle and it obviously caused her some distress, and Dory was sorry for it, but there were bigger concerns here than the politics in the house. Crime and punishment had and was unfolding before their very eyes. Putting their heads in the sand and ignoring it wasn't going to achieve anything.

  Walking outside through the basement door, Dory found DI Ridley walking along the gravel and smoking a cigarette. He looked worried, or she assumed it was worry. It was still inordinately difficult to read him.

  As he noticed her, he smiled briefly and Dory returned the gesture. "How goes the questioning?"

  A lopsided smile tugged the corner of his mouth and he dropped the cigarette, grinding it into the gravel with his foot. "They are circling the wagons, as they say. They're all stonewalling me. I think they got together and all decided on a strategy. I'm getting nothing out of them. No one can remember anything."

  "Maybe you'll have better luck with the staff, although I doubt any of them would be happy to talk to you."

  "Are they giving you a hard time for helping me?"

  Dory’s lack of an answer was answer enough. "I think my time here is done."

  "We are so close," Ridley said, distracted by his thoughts. "There are just one or two pieces left and it all comes together. The question is who was driving the car. George Henry does not know, but all family members know how to drive."

  "And some staff. We know it's not Vivian, Livinia, Cedric or Lady Pettifer. The only people who were around during both incidents were Lady and Lord Wallisford," Dory said. "Vivian was away all term and never returned—"

  "But he was here when the Nora Sands was killed."

  Dory watched him intently, trying to understand what he was saying and what it meant. "You mean the same person wasn't responsible for Nora and Tilda."

  "We cannot say that with certainty."

  That changed things. "Then we know that Cedric, Livinia and Lady Pettifer were not here when Nora was murdered. Lady Pettifer wasn't here before, either."

  "She is the only person who can have no involvement."

  "So, we really are no further along than we were."

  Ridley was silent, his fingers stroking along his brow. "I have made some inquiries at Cambridge and we'll see what returns. If someone drove there and back, there might be some record of it. Then we will know who was driving. Unfortunately, no one in Quainton has any memory of seeing anyone from the village drive past around that time, or don't remember now."

  There was still a chance this would be unsolved. "Lady Pettifer seems to think Vivian knows who's responsible."

  "I don't doubt it. Look, Dory, I think you need to stay out of sight as much as possible. There is a murderer in this house and they must be feeling pressure now—the kind of pressure that makes people irrational and dangerous. You are the one in the house and many here see you as complicit in this investigation. Now is not the time to put yourself in front of everyone for attention. Ideally, you should leave."

  "I'm not leaving Lady Pettifer in the lurch." That was only partially true. Dory wanted to see this through to the end. It would prey on her mind for the rest of her life if she left now, even if she eventually found out how things resolved. She didn't want to be sent away like a naughty child. It would also feel like handing victory to the people who were all too willing to sweep Nora's death under the carpet for whatever misplaced sense of propriety and service. Truthfully, Dory couldn't understand it, but she did get Ridley's point. Who knew what level this person would go to in their desperation to conceal themselves?

  "I will stay clear and only deal with Lady Pettifer," she promised. With their interaction that morning, Dory felt as though they had cleared some of the tension between them. Dory did understand the pressure and discomfort this was causing. This person's actions had and would bring suffering to everyone. Even the staff would suffer in the long run. Who would want a servant who came from such a notorious position? The same was true for her. A letter of recommendation from the house of Lady or Lord Wallisford wouldn't serve her terribly well either, Dory thought with a chuckle. Good thing domestic service was not for her.

  "If anything strange occurs, anything out of the norm, I want you to run. Get out and take to the forest if need be. J
ust be out of reach."

  Surely, it wasn't as serious as all that, but then he was the policeman. He knew much more about what could happen than she did.

  "It would bother me immensely if you got hurt as a result of all this," he said, again in that absent way in which he sometimes spoke, as if thinking aloud.

  The statement surprised Dory and she felt uncomfortable at the consideration. No one had ever shown such concern for her before and it was all the more confrontational because it was him. It wasn't as if he'd particularly shown any great concern, but apparently, it was more than she had assumed. "Anything untowards and I will run like the devil."

  He smiled, watching her for a moment and Dory felt the pit of her stomach drop. She absolutely should not be taking a fancy to this man, who would only be in her life for another few days. Either this case would be solved or he would be recalled to London.

  Maybe that wasn't the end of the world. Who was to say she couldn't go to London after this, find a new opportunity and a new career? It made sense to turn her attention to London. They might very well see each other again. A deepening blush crept up her cheeks.

  Chapter 30

  DI Ridley returned the next day, questioning some of the staff, but his activities were disturbed by the arrival of several cars, one of them including the Commissioner of Police. Dory watched it with Lady Pettifer from the window. She had no idea who the man was, but Lady Pettifer did.

  "Do you think DI Ridley has involved the Commissioner of Police?" Dory asked. "Is this typical?" It seemed extraordinary.

  "I'd say not," Lady Pettifer said. "I suspect this is my brother's doing." She wore a grave expression on her face as she let the lace curtains drop back into place.

  "Your brother has called the Commissioner of Police," Dory said disbelievingly. "Ridley said they were stonewalling him. Why would they purposefully call in the top policeman of all?"