A Death at the Church

by Caroline Dunford

  ‘Fitzroy.’

  ‘But I could not possible ask you to intervene in a private family matter,’ finished Hans.

  ‘Oh, let him do it,’ said Bertram in an exasperated tone. ‘I do not think I can bear any more of this infernal chatter.’ With this he attempted to storm up the stairs and into the house. Except, he now had a slight limp.

  ‘It appears the matter is settled,’ said Fitzroy lightly. He offered me his arm, waiting only for Hans to take the lead back into the house.

  ‘That was unkind,’ I said softly to him. ‘You have made him limp. I have never done that.’

  ‘You have smaller feet,’ responded the spy. ‘Besides, I concur with Bertram, it was getting tedious.’

  We entered the hall. Hans disappeared off to apprise my mother of my return. ‘I shall break it to her with great charm,’ he said without modesty. ‘We need to have her support with this plan.’

  When he had gone, I faced my mentor. ‘You spent most of the conversation trying not to laugh. I saw your shoulders shake.’

  Fitzroy gave me a wry smile, ‘In small doses I find ordinary people entertaining. Your family especially so. That Bertram would be aghast at the idea of his sister running off with a butler – or even mistaken enough to imagine so – is for me light relief against many of the things we must face. Besides, all that we do is to ensure that ordinary people can have their very ordinary and ridiculous squabbles. Without us, the fiction of their world would be exposed and they would see the real horrors of this world.’

  ‘How philosophical you are today,’ I said, but he had shaken me. I knew far more about the world than when I had first entered service, and much of it would have been unthinkable, in the worst way, to my younger self. Now I had given my service to the Crown I could only imagine that the things I would see and do would increase in unpleasantness.

  Fitzroy stood watching me. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘You will see things you will never be able to tell your friends and family about, because they simply would not be able to conceive of the – shall we say – impropriety?’

  ‘You mean as opposed to evil?’

  Fitzroy shrugged. ‘There is only one way not to be afraid of the dark and that is to be the scariest thing in it.’

  I could take no more of this conversation. I went upstairs to gather my things. Then I knocked on Bertram’s door. I found him sitting on the edge of his bed with one shoe off, massaging his foot. ‘That man is a rotter,’ he said vehemently.

  At that moment I agreed wholeheartedly with him.

  * * *

  18 Sometimes I fear for the sensible half of the human race — by which I mean, of course, the females.

  19 Which must have been rather galling.

  20 I did love Bertram so very much.

  21 I nonetheless believed he would genuinely apologise for any aggression against me, as he had done once before at Crystal Palace when I had ended up winded, on the floor, and beneath him with my arm locked in a most uncomfortable position.

  Chapter Sixteen

  I bade my mother a brief farewell and hugged little Joe. As I was doing a potential errand of mercy for my new relations, she only commented six times on why Bertram could go without me.

  ‘Richenda has never listened to me, ma’am,’ said Bertram. ‘Not even when we were kids. She was more likely to lock me in a cupboard and forget about me.’ He said it in such a forlorn way that my mother made him drink a cup of tea as she lectured him on how a man needs to be strong with his female relations. I hugged little Joe, who was bright-eyed with curiosity, and I promised to be bring him back sweets or cake.

  ‘Because you know Aunt Richenda will have loads,’ he said.

  ‘She will actually be your sister-in-law,’ I said.

  ‘But she’s so old!’ said Joe. I made him promise never to repeat this and went out the car where I found Fitzroy relaxing in the driver’s seat with his eyes closed. I got in beside him. He opened one eye. ‘Your mother or Hans? Holding us up.’

  ‘Mother.’

  ‘Good,’ said the spy, closing his eye again. ‘I won that bet with myself.’

  ‘I’m not going to like your world much, am I?’

  Fitzroy didn’t open his eyes. ‘If it was a likeable place we wouldn’t be needed.’ He paused for a moment. ‘I did try to get you to think seriously about saying yes, despite your situation.’

  ‘You did all that was fair,’ I said.

  He did open his eyes at that. ‘Well, that’s a first,’ he said.

  ‘What is?’ said Bertram hurling his case into the back. ‘Never mind. Drive, man, drive. Before Philomena catches me again.’

  The journey to Stapleford Hall was long, but uneventful. We did not stop to eat – although we did have to stop for calls of nature, something Bertram found most embarrassing. I merely found it a relief. The countryside provided ample coverage for discretion. Of course, Bertram’s situation was not helped by accidentally coming into contact with a patch of nettles. I asked no questions and I knew Fitzroy was on his best behaviour as he merely pointed out where there were dock leaves. When Bertram had retreated once more into the greenery to tend to his injured pride Fitzroy said, ‘I do like him, but it surprises me he wants to live in the Fens. He does not appear a fan of nature.’

  ‘Is the plan to get Richenda to leave while we search the Hall? I presume she and Glanville must have travelled up with the children.’

  Fitzroy nodded. ‘Plus, she should have Stone. Bertram can appeal to his sense of honour to return to his master. Is Merry with them as well?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  Bertram appeared from behind a tree and climbed back into the car. ‘Neither of you say a word.’

  ‘Who else went with Richenda?’ I said. ‘Did Merry go?’

  ‘Yes, I think so. Along with Lucinda of course.’

  Fitzroy and I turned around as one to stare at him. ‘Lucinda?’

  ‘You know, Richard’s widow. Richenda could hardly walk into the Hall without her. Until the lawyers get their talons untangled it’s going to be a bit of mess about who owns what. He told me once he was leaving me his mills. I do hope he was joking. I believe Lucinda’s father built them up. Lot of family pride in it and all that. Would be just like Richard to leave them to me – cause bad blood and all that.’

  ‘Of course, Hans must have sent for her after Richard’s death. Poor girl. What a shock it must have been for her.’

  ‘No,’ said Bertram. ‘She came down for the wedding.’

  ‘Could this be the guest your mother mentioned when you first returned to the Mullers,’ said Fitzroy in a tone that could not be said to be friendly.

  ‘I did not get a chance to ask,’ I said. ‘She had declined coming to the wedding. I am sure my mother said so. She was not on any of the seating arrangements.’

  ‘Apparently she decided she needed to be with Richard because of her fragile state.’

  Fitzroy and I looked at Bertram blankly.

  ‘You know. Interesting condition and all that.’

  ‘Pregnant!’ I said, my voice rising in alarm. ‘How pregnant?’

  ‘How the hell should I know?’ said Bertram, tugging at this collar. ‘Not the kind of thing one generally discusses. Only knew ’cause Richard started boasting about it to all and sundry.’

  ‘I presume she did not come to the church because she felt unwell,’ said Fitzroy. ‘Did you see her, Bertram? Did her figure seem enlarged?’

  ‘Good God, man! She’s my brother’s wife! I’ve never looked at her figure.’

  ‘Oh, Bertram, you know that’s not true. When we first met her at the castle you were quite taken with her,’ I said.

  Bertram began to bluster. Fitzroy interrupted. ‘Enough of the marital disputes.’ He turned to me. ‘Are we considering her as a threat or a possible victim?’

  ‘Either! Both!’ I said. ‘She may want to inherit Stapleford Hall now the Castle is partly burnt out. But there is nothing to suggest that she would
do Richenda or her children any harm.’

  ‘If only we knew whose idea it was to go to the Hall,’ said Fitzroy.

  Bertram shrugged and folded his arms, making a little snort.

  I ignored these signs of sulking. ‘At least we know she wasn’t in the church.’

  ‘Hmm,’ Fitzroy. ‘I don’t like any of this. It feels all wrong.’ He turned in his seat to face me and said quietly. ‘I am aware this is your family, but our priority is to find the key to decode Richard’s book. Anything else the regular police can deal with. The telegram I received...’

  Bertram interrupted him. ‘Would you mind very much not whispering in my fiancee’s ear in front of me. It’s bad enough you keep abducting her but making up to her in my presence is too much.’

  Fitzroy swore violently. Bertram blushed, but by now I was used to the spy’s way of letting off steam and barely noticed. ‘Bertram,’ I said. ‘It’s not like that...’

  ‘Shut up, the pair of you,’ growled Fitzroy. He turned on the engine and accelerated away so fast the tyres screeched.

  I have no idea how long it took us to reach Stapleford Hall. I was far too busy praying for our survival. Fitzroy drove in a manner that can only be described as reckless precision. He avoided crashing by a hair’s breadth on more occasions than I care to remember. He could only brake, turn, or swerve minimally. He appeared determined not only to minimise the length of the journey, but to keep the engine note so loud conversation was impossible. Despite this, I heard more than one yelp from Bertram in the back as he was battered about from one side to the other. Once I risked checking he had not been ejected by the sudden swerve, but the effort of turning my neck at this speed made it ache in an alarming way. In my mind’s eye I suddenly had a crystal-clear memory of reading an article in a newspaper that opined that excess speed in a car would liquidise one’s insides. At this point I closed my eyes and consigned myself to my fate. Even if I wanted to attempt it, I could never have wrestled the wheel from Fitzroy’s grasp, and if I had, I suspected ending up in a ditch might be a preferable fate to facing his wrath. I only wished he had been able to tell me what was in the telegram. As I had told Bertram, we had been ricocheting back and forth between events, but my suspicion was growing that somehow everything tied together. If I survived the journey maybe I would find out.

  A terrifying time later we drove through the gates of Stapleford Hall. Fitzroy at least slowed somewhat for our progression up the drive. I was grateful for this as the hall still had a free roaming flock of sheep. I might have explained this, but I had not yet gathered myself enough to speak. The spy on the other hand had a calm, almost beatific expression on his face. ‘Ah,’ he said, smiling at me, ‘that blew the cobwebs away.’ I managed to nod. Bertram made a strange noise from the back halfway between a groan and a growl.

  I half staggered, half threw myself out of my seat before Bertram could help me down. I wanted some time to reacquire the ability to walk as much as I desired to feel good, solid, unmoving earth beneath my feet. Bertram similarity lurched out of the car and wobbled across to me. Fitzroy sprang out of the driving seat and near skipped up to the ring the doorbell. ‘Does that fellow ever get on your nerves?’ said Bertram.

  ‘All the time,’ I said quietly. Bertram grinned at me. His grin faded as he looked past me at the open door.

  ‘Hello, Stone,’ said Fitzroy. ‘How’s the new job? I fear Mr Muller is quite gone to pieces without you.’ He said this is a nonchalant tone that clearly indicated he didn’t care a jot for Hans’ wellbeing. But it was enough of an opener to floor Stone for enough of a moment to let the spy breeze through the door and into the hall without explaining who he was or why he was here. I took Bertram’s arm and urged him forward.

  ‘Good afternoon, Stone,’ I said. ‘Our luggage is in the boot. If you could see to three rooms being made up? We will be staying at least the night. How are Mrs Stapleford and Mrs Muller? I believe Mrs Stapleford is a little overwhelmed by her condition. Might I hope she is doing a little better now?’

  Even this oblique reference to pregnancy caused Stone’s face to solidify more than usual into his signature non-expression. ‘Good afternoon miss, sir. Mrs Muller is out riding. Mrs Stapleford is resting. Do you wish me to send a maid to awaken her?’

  ‘Of course not,’ I said. ‘But I would very much like to come in. The ride across was cold. Do you think Mrs Deighton could summon up some tea and scones for the weary travellers?’

  ‘That sounds excellent,’ said Bertram, adding his force to allow Stone to step aside and let us in. I would have thought once one of us had got in he would have given way. I could no longer even see Fitzroy past Stone. He had obviously disappeared into the bowels of the house.

  Stone did not yet give way. ‘The other man?’

  ‘The Inspector,’ said Bertram. ‘He’s the man who helped find Richenda’s children that time they were kidnapped. Glanville knows him. I’m sure she’ll give him a reference if ours isn’t considered good enough.’

  At this Stone did step aside. ‘Not at all, sir, but this is not the first time the gentleman has got past me into an abode without giving his name or reason for entry. It is, I am not ashamed to say, a unique occurrence. I can only suppose the police are used to being given a free licence to enter.’ Bertram’s eyes widened. If I had not been so cold, I would have stayed to continue the conversation. For Stone to enunciate so many words in a single utterance was literally unheard of. I walked past him, calling over my shoulder, ‘We will take tea in the blue salon.’ I didn’t wait to get a response. I wanted to know what Fitzroy was up to.

  I found him, as I had expected, in what had always been the Stapleford master’s office. Richard’s father had used it when I had first arrived there, and later Richard when his father was mysteriously killed by a wandering tramp.22 What did surprise me was that he had swung a picture aside and behind it had found and opened a safe. He appeared to be rifling through the contents.

  ‘Hello, Alice,’ he said without turning around. ‘Nothing interesting in here. Just money, deeds and a copy of Richard’s will.’ He turned and tossed it to me. ‘Check and see if Bertram was right about the mills, there’s a good girl.’

  ‘We’re to have tea in the Blue Salon in a quarter of an hour or so,’ I said, catching the will and drawing up a seat to the desk to examine it.’

  ‘Good,’ said Fitzroy. ‘Do you think there will be sandwiches as well? I didn’t sleep much last night and, as you know, that always increases my appetite.’

  ‘No idea. Bertram’s right. The mills go to him. Everything else goes to Lucinda, unless she has a child, in which case it goes to the child in trust with her as trustee. Nothing to Richenda. There are also some small bequests of money to friends and staff that are to be taken out of the estate first. Goodness, he has even left me £100 for being a good sport.’ ‘Trying to wreck your reputation from beyond the grave?’ said Fitzroy coming over to the desk. ‘You really got under that man’s skin, didn’t you?’

  ‘I tried to get him hanged for murder, but higher powers got him off. I don’t suppose that was you, was it?’

  Fitzroy held up his hands. ‘Not personally, no. But he did have contacts, not only in parliament but on the more shadowy side of government. He might have had a black heart, but he was a devil for investments and his armaments company was becoming the most forward in the world.’

  I frowned. ‘I thought he was only an arms dealer?’

  ‘At first,’ said Fitzroy. ‘Then he got a bit of a taste for the business, it seems. Started buying up and investing in a number of arenas. Then brought them all together under one roof as it were. He hid the business under a couple of shell companies – don’t ask, it’s very dull.’

  ‘So, this business of finding Richard’s killer to clear my name has all been a deception to... to what? Find weapons plans? Take over this company?’

  Fitzroy leaned back against the desk and looked down at me. ‘You know my department has been
interested in Richard for a long time. Of course we want to know who killed him and why. We also want to get our hands on some documents he has.’

  ‘So, it was not about helping me?’

  ‘Let us say that I used the Richard situation to my advantage in getting you out of the mess you’d got yourself into. I believe I may even have said things like invaluable assistance, thorough knowledge of the grounds and participants, and even vital to the operation. Saying I liked you and didn’t want to see you hanged wouldn’t have cut any mustard with my superiors.’

  ‘But you said that they – you – has been considering recruiting me...’

  Fitzroy raised a hand to stop me. ‘Let’s get this over before Bertram comes in, shall we? Yes, my reports on our shared exploits and other independent reports... ’ I started to ask about these, but he frowned at me and held up his hand again. ‘Other independent reports suggested you were a useful asset. I made a case that you were worth recruiting. It had won some favour and then you got yourself arrested on suspicion of murder. The department’s reaction was to wash its hands of you. Your name and image was in various newspapers and people were talking about you. Very fast work, by the way; I suspect you have more enemies than you realise. We’ll need to look into that. Anyway, as such my lords and masters considered you would be worthless as a spy, as your ability to go incognito had gone up in a puff of smoke the moment the first newspaper published your picture. As far as my department was concerned it was time to move on. However, there were still questions that needed to be answered about Richard Stapleford. I played that to my advantage.’

  ‘You did recruit me? This isn’t some kind of trick.’

  ‘I can see how you might think that,’ said Fitzroy calmly. ‘It’s one of the reasons I gave you the badge. Normally there’s a bit of a probation period. But seeing as failing that usually ends in termination, I didn’t see the harm.’

  ‘I do not recall you mentioning that in your recruitment speech.’

  ‘I didn’t,’ said Fitzroy. ‘I find it puts people off. Besides, I was determined you – and I – would succeed and there would be no issue over your acceptance.’ He tilted his head on one side. ‘And you know I generally succeed when I set my mind to things. I had no intention of allowing you to come to harm at the department’s hands, or anyone else’s.’