“Are you sure you are quite well, Miss Roper?” he said.
“I am p–erfectly well,” she said, again with the strange slur in her voice.
“I don’t think you are, Sarah dear,” said Mrs Steele. “You’ve had a terrible shock. Perhaps you should lie down. Would that be a good idea?” She glanced at Felix for confirmation.
“I think so, ma’am,” said Felix.
“You see,” said Mrs Steele, taking the young woman’s arm, only to be rebuffed again.
“Leave me be!” Miss Roper said, and ran into one of the adjoining rooms, slamming the door behind her. Then came the sound of a key turning in the lock.
“Oh, dear Lord,” said Mrs Steele. “Troubles never come singly, do they? She has not been herself for weeks now, has she, Amy?” Amy shook her head. “And now this.”
“Has she seen a doctor?” Felix said.
“I have told her to send for one a hundred times, and she is always talking about not being able to afford it.”
“My sister thinks of nothing but money,” said Miss Amy, sitting down by the fire. “Or rather our lack of it. And now...” She pressed her hands to her face and began to sob. “Oh my poor, poor father! To die like that! He looked as if he had drowned in his own blood. He did not, Doctor, did he?” she said, looking up at Felix.
“No,” said Felix.
“At least you will be able to give him a splendid burial,” said Mrs Steele, sitting down by Amy and taking her hand. “Sarah told me she had taken out insurance for that.”
“Was that only a funeral policy, Mrs Steele?” asked Major Vernon.
“No, no, I think she had arranged several, just to give them a little income, in case the worst came to the worst. Isn’t that so, Amy?”
“It is more than several,” said Amy. “It is nearly a dozen.”
“However did she afford the repayments on them?” said Mrs Steele.
“By selling everything we had!” said Amy. “Even our mother’s jewellery! What there was of it. That is why we have been living like beggars, Mrs Steele. That is why!” Amy now pointed at the door to her sister’s room. “She has been watching and waiting for this!” And then, realising what she had implied, she clapped her hand over her mouth and turning away, began to cry again. “Oh my Lord, no, no, I did not mean that, I did not – she would not, I am sure. It was an accident, surely – it must have been an accident...”
Major Vernon took a chair and placed it close to where Miss Amy sat, and said, in a gentle voice, “Something is troubling you, I think?”
She gazed at him and nodded.
“Yesterday afternoon,” she said. “There was – oh dear, I don’t want to tell you. I really don’t.”
“What happened yesterday?” he said. “Was it something between your father and your sister?”
Amy nodded, took a careful breath and said, “They were quarrelling. It was in the workshop. And I don’t know what about, sir, but –” She hid her face in her hands again. “She was shouting at him, shouting and shouting. I couldn’t bear it, so I shut myself in my room.”
“Thank you,” said Major Vernon. “That is helpful.”
Amy screwed up her face. “To put a noose about her neck.”
“And why would you say that?” said Major Vernon.
“Because you do not think it was an accident, sir, do you?”
“I cannot say,” said Major Vernon. “I am only interested in what happened that day, at present. So what time did this quarrel take place, Miss Roper? Can you remember what you were doing when it broke out? Did anything in particular provoke it, do you think?”
“I was in the kitchen making soup,” she said, “and Sarah came in. She had been out, I don’t know where, but she was in a temper, and she went out into the workshop and started screaming at Pa.”
“And you did not hear from the kitchen what she was actually saying to him?”
“No. I had closed the door behind her, to keep in the heat,” said Miss Amy, “and all I could hear was her screeching at him. Going on and on.”
“And you didn’t go to try and calm her?” Major Vernon said.
“I know better than to do that,” said Amy.
“So this has happened before?”
“Once or twice,” Amy said. “And believe me, sir, you wouldn’t have gone in, if you had heard it. I didn’t want her slapping me as well.”
“I see,” said Major Vernon, considering the point for a moment. “So do you think she has sometimes struck your father?”
“Yes,” she said, after another pause. “I have seen her do it.”
“What were the circumstances of that?”
“Oh, I don’t know, it was all so strange, and distressing, as you may imagine, sir.”
“Yes, yes, I quite understand,” said Major Vernon, “but you must tell me what you remember of it. You know you must, given what has happened. When did you see her strike him?”
“It was about a month ago. We were sitting here in the evening. For once Pa was sitting with us. He had a cold and was staying out of the workshop. And he was sitting at the table there, working away at something, as he always does.”
“And what is your father’s trade?” Major Vernon asked.
“He was a clockmaker but he didn’t work at it. Rather, he was always designing and constructing devices and machines, but they didn’t make any money. That is our trouble. He works and works – worked, excuse me,” she corrected herself. “And it always came to nothing. He always hoped that his next invention would make him a fortune and it never did.”
“I see. So your father was here. And where was Sarah?”
“She was in her room, and she came out all in a passion. She’d gone in to read a letter, and she came out with it in her hand, saying to Pa she’d never forgive him for meddling, and he just said, it was all for her own good and she’d understand one day, and that set her off. She clouted him about the head and then went running back to her room, and locked herself in.”
Amy began to cry again.
“Just like today,” said Mrs Steele. “She’s not been herself these last few months, I’m sure of it. She would never have done such a thing if she’d been right in herself. She was always such a good, kind girl. She used to come and help me with my little ones. I can’t understand why she’s so changed, and now...” She rose. “I had better go and see all is well at home. Perhaps you’d like to come with me, Amy? Would that be all right, sir?” Major Vernon nodded. “We are only two doors away at Number 7.”
“Yes,” said Miss Amy. “I would like that.” She wiped her eyes. “I need to get dressed.”
“I’ll help you, dear,” said Mrs Steele, and together they went into a room at the back of the house, leaving Felix and Major Vernon alone by the fire.
“The late Mrs Roper, perhaps?” Major Vernon said, indicating a small portrait hanging above the fireplace. It had a withered posy tucked behind it. “Given the resemblance to the elder girl. What do you think, Carswell?” he added quietly, with a gesture towards the door.
“She may be under the influence of something,” said Felix. “Laudanum, perhaps. That slurred speech, for a start.”
“And could a dependence cause such a change of character?”
“There have been cases where it had a disinhibiting effect, yes.”
“Enough to turn a mild-mannered person into a killer?”
“I have not read of such an extreme case.”
“No, nor can I recall one. And a couple of clouts about the head is hardly in the same league –”
“But given what we have seen so far, it is possible that a violent shove from someone in a passion might have been enough to send him falling onto the workbench. She had taken out life insurance as well – surely that is significant?”
“No wonder she has locked herself in,” said Major Vernon. “I am loath to knock the door down. I wonder if there is any other way to entice her out.”
At this moment Miss Amy – now
dressed in black – and Mrs Steele returned.
“There is no other key to this door, Miss Roper?” asked Major Vernon.
Amy shook her head.
“I know who will get her out of there,” said Mrs Steele. “Young Mr Edwardes. Don’t you think so, Amy?”
“And he is?” said Major Vernon.
“Her intended,” said Mrs Steele. “Well, he was the last I heard of it.”
“But Pa wasn’t having it,” said Miss Amy. “Over his dead body, he said!” With which she burst into tears again.
Chapter Five
Having left several officers in the house, one especially charged to wait at Miss Roper’s door, Giles went to find Mr Edwardes at his place of work, as directed by Mrs Steele. This was the livery makers in Minster Street, and young Mr Edwardes appeared to be the son and heir of Mr Edward Edwardes who had just taken over Mr Loakes’s business.
“A good prospect, surely?” said Giles. “I wonder what the objection was.”
“Vulgarity, perhaps,” said Carswell, “if he is anything like his father.”
“You are still grieving for Mr Loake.”
“Are you not? I don’t think I can bear too much of Edward Edwardes. I shall have to look for someone else.”
“If his work is equal to Loakes’ I would not be so hasty,” Giles said. “A good tailor is hard to find. Now, what did you make of the younger Miss Roper? I’m curious about her. Did you notice how eager she was to point us to everything that might incriminate her sister? There is nothing to say that she was not the one who went into the workshop and attacked her father. Remember how vague she was on the subject of that quarrel last night.”
“That’s true,” said Carswell.
“They are both going to have to be thoroughly interviewed,” said Giles. “I have the feeling that there will be nothing straightforward about this business.”
A few steps further and they reached Edwardes’ livery and uniform tailors. This shop was somewhat different to that of old Mr Loakes. It made no attempt to be discreet. A double window display contained much scarlet and gold lace, while on entering they had to pass along a column of puff-chested, liveried dummies, dressed in coloured plush and silver embroidery.
“I have always wondered why anyone would choose to be a footman,” said Carswell. “To have to wear such costumes and the hair powder! It is absurd!”
“Oh, I don’t know,” said Giles, examining a cuff encrusted with silver braid. “It cannot be such a wretched life in a house such as Holbroke, and to some of us, there is something appealing in a uniform.”
“But it is not a proper uniform,” Carswell said. “It is only flunkeydom.”
“It is a good training to be a butler or a house steward,” said Giles. “No small advancement if you come from very little. No, if I were a handsome young man with good calves, I would consider it. Better than working in a manufactory, I think.”
“Perhaps,” said Carswell, “and you have the height for it. Apparently the height is important. As important as the calves.”
“Has Mrs Carswell been thinking of taking on a pair of footmen?” Giles said.
“I should hope not,” said Carswell.
“May I help you, gentlemen?” The young man who had been folding up a length of brilliant blue velvet on the counter now addressed them.
“Mr Edwardes?” said Major Vernon. The resemblance to Edwardes’ senior was clear enough, although the son was dressed soberly. His immaculate black suit and dazzling white linen made him look like a fashionable young solicitor.
“Yes, sir, I am.”
“I’m Major Vernon from the Constabulary. I need your assistance. I believe you are a friend of Miss Sarah Roper?”
“Yes,” said Edwardes. “From the Constabulary, sir? Is she all right?”
“I’m afraid it’s a slightly delicate situation,” said Giles. “Her father has been found dead and I need to speak to her about it. She has barricaded herself in her room. Mrs Steele suggested that you might be able to persuade her to leave.”
“Found dead? But –” He broke off. “If you are involved, does this mean there is something untoward about his death?”
“I can’t say at this point,” said Giles. “We’re just trying to establish exactly what happened and that is why we need to talk to Miss Roper. Will you come and see if you can persuade her?”
“Yes,” said Mr Edwardes. “I’ll see what I can do, although she may not be pleased to see me. We are friends, but things between us have been difficult of late.”
“Mrs Steele seemed to think she was unwell,” Mr Carswell said. “Would you agree?”
“She’s not been herself, certainly,” said the young man. “I think there may be something wrong with her, some disorder of the mind, and now her father – this cannot help her. Barricaded in her room, you say?” Giles nodded. “I will just get my coat.”
They walked back to Oil Mill Lane in a violent sleet storm that seemed to have come from nowhere. By the time they got to the house, seeing the constable on the door, Mr Edwardes grew apprehensive, and said to Giles, “Might we speak alone for a moment, before I try and talk to her?”
“Yes, of course. Let us go into the kitchen.”
“Miss Roper and I were at one time more than friends. We were engaged. But neither my father nor hers would agree to it and so I gave it up. It was not easy because neither of them, for some reason, could give any good explanation as to why we should not marry. I know she has nothing, but I have enough, and there is no real difference between our families. But for some reason I cannot understand – and neither could Sarah – they would not consent.”
“And that was the cause of your quarrel with Miss Roper?” asked Giles.
“Yes. She could not be resigned to it. I understand that. It has been a great struggle, but I have no wish to make my father miserable, and he said that he would be if I were ungrateful enough and disobedient enough to go through with it. And I did not want to lose my place in the business. He threatened to disinherit me. And Sarah cannot accept that. I have told her a hundred times that we must not, that we cannot go against them, and the more we accept their will, the more likely we are to get what we want.”
“That patience will win the day?”
“Yes, exactly, sir. But Sarah is not patient,” he said. “Rather she has lost patience. She has been sorely tried. Her father is not an easy man and it has made her...” He gave a shrug. He was obviously suffering from a conflict between loyalty and disillusionment. “And it has changed her,” he said after a moment.
“You don’t know if Miss Roper was in the habit of taking laudanum?” said Mr Carswell. “It is only that what I observed of her earlier today suggested something of the kind.”
“No, not that I know of.”
“Sometimes when people suffer great mental distress, it can lead to them drinking or taking opium in excess,” said Carswell.
Edwardes shook his head.
“I can’t imagine she would do that, even in our painful circumstances. She has a horror of that sort of thing and would never take opium. And as for drinking – no, never. She asked me to consider abstinence.”
“Shall we go up and see how she is?” said Giles.
The constable sitting on the landing confirmed that the young lady had not emerged. Edwardes went to the door and tapped gently on it.
“Sarah, Sarah, do you hear me? It’s Jack. I’m so sorry about your father. Will you come out now, please?”
There was a long pause, and then the sound of the key turning in the lock. Miss Roper came out dressed in black.
“Oh Jack,” she said in a trembling whisper to Mr Edwardes. “I didn’t think you would ever want to come here again, let alone see me. After all I’ve said –” She put her hand out to him but he hesitated to take it. He seemed struck by her appearance. But after a moment he took her hand and said, “These gentlemen need to talk to you. I think you understand that.”
“I do Jack, I d
o,” she said, wrapping her other hand about his and bending over to kiss it. She murmured: “Oh, thank you for coming, thank you, my love. And I will talk to them now. I promise.”
~
An hour or so later, Felix looked through the hatchway into the interview room at Constabulary Headquarters where Miss Roper was waiting. In the grey, clear light of the room, she appeared to him to be most unwell. She was desperately thin, her eyes sunken and violet-lidded, and with heavy shadows beneath them. Her cheeks were flushed in an unhealthy fashion and she had a distant gaze, as if she had no idea where she was. Felix was certain that she was under the influence of a strong opiate and that she had perhaps dosed herself up when she had been locked in her room.
He turned to Major Vernon.
“I think I should examine her,” he said.
“Please do,” said Major Vernon.
He went in. She was compliant as he examined her, almost too compliant, and her pulse was verging on the feeble.
“Have you taken something, Miss Roper?” he said.
“No,” she said, shaking her head.
“Are you sure? Did you drink something when you were locked in your room?”
“Just a little cordial.” Her speech was indistinct and it took a moment for him to work out what she had said.
“And what cordial is that?”
“I don’t know.”
“I see,” he said. “Have you been taking it for some time?”
“No, no, it isn’t like that,” she said, “not that stuff. I don’t take that stuff. I know what that does, Doctor!”
“So who gave you this cordial?”
“I get it from Throcktons.”
Throcktons was a large, respectable grocers in White Horse Street, not an apothecary. It seemed unlikely that they would sell an opium-laced cordial. It would be easy enough to find out.
He left her in the room and went back out to Major Vernon.
“You’ll be searching the house?” he said.
“That rather depends on what you turn up in the post-mortem,” said Major Vernon. “At the moment I’m working on the idea that Miss Roper has something significant to say to us.”
The Fatal Engine Page 4
