by VL McBeath
Connie drained the tea from her cup. “Well, we’re back to square one if he really does know nothing.” She gave an involuntary giggle. “You know, if Rosamund and Mr McRae had run away together, I’d say Mr Cranford could have asked Betty to take Rosamund’s place. I’m sure she could have taken over Rosamund’s life if it stopped her from becoming destitute. As long as they stayed away from church, I’m sure nobody would have noticed.”
Eliza clanked her cup back onto its saucer and stared at her friend. “Oh my goodness, Connie. That’s it! You’ve just hit the nail on the head. We need to find Sergeant Dixon immediately. I think I know who the killer is.”
Fifteen minutes later, Eliza was about to close the front door after Sergeant Dixon when Archie and Mr Cranford appeared on the garden path.
“You’re back!” Eliza hurried towards them and took hold of Archie’s hand.
“Of course we’re back, I said we would be.”
“I had my doubts, that’s all.” Eliza gave Mr Cranford a sideways glance, but he appeared not to notice. “I think I’ve worked out who the killer is. Sergeant Dixon’s just gone to check something for me.”
Archie’s eyebrows rose. “Who do you think it is?”
“Shh. I’m not telling you here. Come inside and all will be revealed.”
Chapter Thirteen
The maid was clearing away a buffet of cold meats and cheese when Sergeant Dixon finally returned.
“I’ve missed luncheon?” His face fell as he stared at nothing more than a pot of tea and some petits fours that had been left on the sideboard.
Eliza was about to reply when Mr Reed strode down the room towards them.
“Where on earth have you been, Sergeant? Mrs Thomson seems to think she’s in charge around here but Mrs Reed and I need to go to church. The hymn books won’t hand themselves out.”
“I’m sure there’ll be someone who can step in for you, sir. For now, we need you here. If you’d take your seat, I’d like to start.”
Mr Reed harrumphed and shuffled away as Sergeant Dixon scanned the room. “Good, we have everyone else. Let’s get this sorted out.”
“One moment, I’m sure you could do with this.” Eliza handed him a cup of tea. “Did you find what you were looking for?”
“Ah yes.” He handed her a slip of paper. “I think it confirms your suspicions.”
Eliza quickly scanned the document. “What a relief.” A smile crossed her face. “Shall we go and tell everyone?”
“Don’t we need to speak to Mr Cranford again?”
Eliza paused before shaking her head. “No, I think we’ll find out what he knew as we go through the evidence.”
“Very well.” Sergeant Dixon marched to the fire and cleared his throat. “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for your patience. If you’ll take your seats, I’d like to put an end to this mystery.”
“You know who took Rosamund from us?” Mrs Reed asked.
“We do indeed and if you’ll indulge us for a few moments, Mrs Thomson will explain how we came to our conclusions.”
Betty glared at her husband as she took a seat next to Mr and Mrs Reed on the left- hand side of the fireplace. Her husband appeared to ignore her as he sat opposite with Mr Cranford.
“Don’t mind us,” Archie said, as he and Mr Bell arranged several chairs opposite the hearth. “We’ll only be a second.”
Eliza nodded but waited until he’d helped Connie to a chair. “Right, thank you. I’ll try to make this short, but as you know, this investigation hasn’t been easy. It was only yesterday afternoon that Rosamund was stabbed to death in her own drawing room, but it was particularly puzzling because there didn’t appear to be any reason for it. She was such a popular person, why would one of her close friends want her dead?” Eliza paused and glanced around at the eight pairs of eyes that stared back at her.
“Many people immediately thought that Mrs Appleton was the murderer. I must admit she had the opportunity to wield the knife, but then so did everyone else in the room.”
“But not everyone else was found lying on top of poor Rosamund,” Betty said.
“It wasn’t me…” Connie squealed, but Eliza held up her hand.
“Of course it wasn’t you. You’d met Rosamund at the same time as me, no more than two hours previously. You had no possible motive. That’s why I knew we could discount you from the enquiries, even though others in the room insisted you were guilty … perhaps to keep the attention away from themselves.” Eliza stared to her right. “Isn’t that right, Mr Reed?”
“S-she was on top of the body … it must have been her.”
Eliza cocked her head to one side. “Why would you continue to insist someone was guilty when it’s clear they weren’t? Who were you trying to protect? Yourself? Or perhaps your wife.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Mr Reed was on his feet. “Rosamund was like a daughter to us, why would we hurt her?”
Eliza’s eyes narrowed as she studied him. “Why indeed? Was it anything to do with the argument you’d had with her?”
“Argument! There was no such thing.” Mr Reed turned first to his wife before glaring at the faces of those around him. “Who’s been talking?”
“Perhaps it’s time you did,” Sergeant Dixon said. “What was the argument about?”
“There was no argument.” Mr Reed stepped towards Eliza, but Sergeant Dixon grabbed him by the arm and indicated for him to sit back down.
“Another move like that, sir, and I’ll have you locked up. Now, answer the question.”
Mr Reed straightened his jacket. “All right, but it wasn’t an argument. I just didn’t like her doing so much work around the church. Ladies shouldn’t be so busy and so I asked her to leave it for me to do. Unfortunately, she wouldn’t listen and I needed to raise my voice to her.”
“And what did she say to that?” Eliza asked.
“He made her cry.” Betty fixed her eyes on Mr Reed as he stared at the floor. “He accused her of doing a poor job and told her to stay away from the hymn books.”
“You made her cry over some hymn books?” Eliza couldn’t keep the incredulity from her voice.
“You brute.” Mr Cranford jumped to his feet but Sergeant Dixon stepped in front of him.
“That’s enough, sir.”
“Do you think he killed her because of it?” Betty’s eyes were wide.
“Of course I didn’t kill her.” Mr Reed ran a finger around his collar. “It just wasn’t one of the things she was good at. She never put the books the right way up. Some were upside down or back to front. It just wouldn’t do.”
“It’s still a motive though.” Betty’s eyes narrowed as she glared at him.
“An unlikely one, I would say, but Mr Reed isn’t the only one who may have wanted Rosamund dead.” Eliza turned to Mr Cranford. “You had to be high on the suspect list.”
“Me?”
“Why not? As I mentioned earlier, I’m aware of many a husband who’s taken the life of his wife in order to claim the life insurance money. Why should you be any different?”
“Because I’d rather have Rosamund here than any amount of money.”
Eliza nodded. “I’m pleased to hear it. I must confess, I doubted you earlier, but you’ll be relieved to hear the bank have reported that no such policy was taken out. They’ve also confirmed the shop’s finances are secure.” Eliza patted the piece of paper she had placed in her skirt pocket. “That eliminates the most obvious motive you may have had for murdering Rosamund, but there is still another possibility. Did you take her life to stop her leaving you?”
“What?” Mr Cranford seemed genuinely perplexed.
“You didn’t know?” Eliza raised an eyebrow. “While you were out, we learned that Mr McRae had asked Rosamund to leave Richmond and travel with him to Scotland.”
“Is this true?” Amongst a chorus of disapproval, Mr Cranford turned to face a silent Mr McRae.
“What’s up, aren’t you going to answer Mr Cranf
ord?” Betty glowered at her husband. “If you’re too ashamed to tell him about your sordid little secret, perhaps I will.”
“Shut up, woman. There’s nothing to tell.”
“Oh, so you’re not so keen to talk about it now. It didn’t stop you the other night.”
Mr Cranford’s eyes pleaded with Betty. “What aren’t you telling me?”
Betty sighed. “I’m sorry to be the one to break it to you, but my husband asked your wife to elope to Scotland with him so they could one day be married. He said Ros had agreed to go, although I don’t believe him for a minute.”
“Rosamund was leaving me?” Incomprehension spread across Mr Cranford’s face.
“Did you know anything of this?” Eliza asked.
“No, not at all. Not that I’d have let her go…”
“No, I imagine it would have caused quite a scandal if she’d left you for another man. It must be so much easier being a widower…”
Mr Cranford didn’t move immediately but gradually he lifted his face to Eliza’s. “Are you suggesting I killed Rosamund to stop her leaving me?”
“There are men who’ve murdered their wives for less. It’s quite a motive.”
“I’ve told you, I had no idea about any of this and you can’t prove that I did.”
Eliza took a step back, surprised at the conviction in Mr Cranford’s voice.
“I may not have been the best husband in the world, but I would never hurt her.”
“All right, then,” Eliza said. “Let’s assume Mr McRae had asked Rosamund to marry him, but you knew nothing of it. It still leaves Betty with a strong motive.”
“No it doesn’t.” Betty’s shrill voice cut through the air.
“It’s more of a motive for killing someone than stacking a few hymn books wrongly, but you were happy enough to accuse Mr Reed. I would say you had more reason than most for wanting her dead.”
“No, I did not! I told you, Ros was my best friend; she wouldn’t have left me for him.” Betty stabbed her finger in the direction of Mr McRae.
“Don’t look at me,” Mr McRae said. “I wouldn’t have hurt her. I won’t deny I wanted to take her to Scotland but Betty’s fooling herself if she thinks she wouldn’t have joined me. It was all arranged. Betty just couldn’t accept it…” Mr McRae flinched as Mr Cranford lunged at him.
“That’s enough.” Sergeant Dixon prised the two men apart.
“All right, I think you’ve all said enough.” Eliza glared at the group until there was silence. “We’ve established that Mr Cranford or Mr and Mrs McRae all had possible reasons for wanting Rosamund dead. On the face of it, Betty has the strongest motive. If Mr McRae filed for a divorce, it would have caused a terrible scandal, not to mention financial hardship. She also knew how much Rosamund’s death would upset her husband.”
Mr McRae nodded.
“The problem is she idolised Rosamund. She was everything Betty wanted to be and because she knew she would never be as popular, Betty decided that the next best thing was to imitate Rosamund and spend as much time with her as possible. Even from what I saw today, she clearly cared for Rosamund a lot more than she did for her husband. I would say that if Betty wanted anyone dead, it was probably Mr McRae.”
Betty nodded as she glared at her husband. “Well, you’ve got something right.”
“The thing is, Mr McRae felt the same way. When he told Betty he was leaving her, she flew into a rage, something we all saw the tail end of yesterday. I imagine she told him she would never grant him a divorce, as well.”
Betty nodded again. “I did, not that I believed a word he said. I promised to tell Rosamund exactly what sort of man he is, in case she was in any doubt.”
“The woman’s deluded if she thinks she could stop me divorcing her…” Mr McRae spat his words out at Betty.
“Whether she is or not, if what you say is true, it was a risk you couldn’t take.” Eliza didn’t take her eyes off Mr McRae.
“I wouldn’t have killed Rosamund for that.”
“No, I don’t believe you would.” Eliza paused as she held Mr McRae’s gaze. “But you would have murdered Betty.”
“But I didn’t…” Mr McRae pointed at his wife.
“No, you didn’t, but earlier today I remembered that you’d been staring at Betty and Rosamund shortly before the lights went out. You knew exactly where they were standing, but the problem was, once it was dark it became impossible to tell them apart. They were about the same height, similar weight. Betty styled her hair in the same way as Rosamund, and as if you needed confusing any further, they were wearing the same perfume. You were comfortable enough approaching either of them, but because you thought you were standing next to Betty, you put your hand across her mouth to stop her screaming. That was your mistake. If you’d heard her talking, you’d have known you had the wrong woman.”
Mr McRae’s eyes were wide. “You can’t prove that.”
“Oh, but I can. You see, you used such force on Rosamund’s face that although there wasn’t much of a struggle, there were faint markings where your fingers had been. I checked with Dr Thomson, and under the circumstances, we don’t believe they could have been made by a woman. Given that we can discount Mr Reed and Mr Cranford, that only leaves you. I would suggest that the person you wanted dead was in fact your wife, but you accidentally killed Rosamund instead. That’s why you knew exactly where to look when the lights came back on, and why you were so distraught when you saw who was on the floor. Sergeant, this is your culprit.”
Eliza stepped back as Sergeant Dixon took hold of Mr McRae’s arm and snapped one of the handcuffs on his wrist.
“Get off me. How can you say I wanted Betty dead? She’s the mother of my children.” Mr McRae pushed himself away from Sergeant Dixon and made for the door.
“Stop him.” Archie jumped from his chair and raced to the door with Sergeant Dixon in pursuit. Seconds later, the sergeant grabbed Mr McRae, forcing him to the floor where he struggled to prevent his second hand being bound by the handcuffs.
“Leave me alone; haven’t I suffered enough?”
Eliza watched from a distance until she spotted something on the floor. “What’s that?” She hurried across the room and bent down to pick up a card that had fallen from Mr McRae’s pocket. “Well, well, if it isn’t the ace of spades. You’ve had this all along. Were you hoping it would divert attention to Mrs Appleton?”
Connie put a hand to her mouth. “How could you? What a horrible thing to do.”
“I don’t think he was singling you out, my dear.” Mr Bell walked towards the group. “I’ve just remembered he was standing next to Mrs Reed when she fainted. I imagine it was him who wiped the blood on her skirt.”
Mr Cranford pushed his way through the group. “Is that true? Come here, you blackguard.” He grabbed Mr McRae by the jacket, pulling him to his feet. Without a second’s hesitation, he swung back his right arm and aimed his fist squarely at Mr McRae’s jaw. Mr McRae fell backwards and skidded across the room before crashing into the base of the Christmas tree. Time moved in slow motion as baubles and candles swayed with the impact but seconds later the tree crashed to the ground, burying Mr McRae, leaving only his feet poking out from under the star.
Chapter Fourteen
The following day Eliza and Connie arrived downstairs for breakfast just as the maid brought in a fresh pot of tea. Mr Bell and Archie were waiting for them.
“Did you both sleep well?” Mr Bell asked.
“Oh, I did.” Connie helped herself to a slice of toast. “Dr Thomson must have given me so much sleeping draught the other night, I think it’s still in my system.”
Archie laughed. “I doubt that very much. You wouldn’t have been able to get out of bed yesterday morning if I’d given you that much.”
“I expect it’s more the relief that you’re no longer a suspect. You must have been worried.” Eliza leaned over the table to inspect the colour of the tea in the pot.
“Yes, you
’re probably right. What a cheek of Mr McRae wanting to blame me though. What had I done to upset him?”
“You hadn’t done anything, my dear.” Mr Bell patted her hand. “You just happened to provide a useful diversion when you fell over the body.”
“Hmm. Maybe I did, but what about him trying to incriminate poor Mrs Reed? There was no excuse for that.”
Eliza picked up the teapot. “Desperate men do desperate things.”
“Well, I shan’t be playing that game again in a hurry. What a stupid pastime it is, anyway. I only agreed to it because you did.” Connie looked at Eliza.
Eliza stopped what she was doing. “Don’t blame me, I didn’t want to play in the first place. There’s a reason I was still by the fire when the lights were switched back on.”
Connie chuckled. “You’re not frightened of the dark, are you?”
“Of course I’m not.” Eliza’s cheeks reddened. “It’s just that I’d rather not fall over something I can’t see.”
“Well, at least we’ve got it all out of the way before Christmas,” Mr Bell said. “I was worried this whole affair was going to drag on for days. Well done for getting Mr McRae to admit he was the murderer too.”
Eliza gave a subdued laugh. “It didn’t take much, really. Betty was so angry with him, I suspect he thought he’d be better off confessing to the crime than going home.”
Connie nodded. “She was furious, and quite right too.”
“She seemed happy enough once he’d been taken to the police station. By the time I left, Mr Cranford had poured a couple of brandies and they were keeping each other company in the drawing room.” There was a twinkle in Mr Bell’s eyes. “In fact, I’d go so far as to say they were getting on rather well. I overheard him offering to take her to the store as his guest.”
