[Lord and Lady Calaway 03] - A Murderous Inheritance

by Issy Brooke

  “But Jacob Brodie was a scoundrel and a drunkard and it was almost inevitable that he was killed in a tavern brawl. And the marriage happened after the 1820s, many years later. Lady Buckshaw, why are there gaps in the finances? Why did you choose Brodie, of all people? Other men had far more money than he did, and plenty would have been willing to marry Lady Katharine.” Adelia narrowed her eyes. “You are not a terrible matchmaker. You would not have chosen this man unless there was some other reason. Something compelled you.”

  “I have only ever been compelled to do what is right.”

  “We all believe we are acting for the best but sometimes the outcomes are bad, regardless of our intentions.”

  Theodore had been thinking deeply. He said, “How did the family recover its fortunes after the collapse of its trade decades before? Real, fake, it didn’t matter but something happened. The answer lies in the missing records. Are they hidden in the ice house?”

  That made The Countess laugh. “No, I burned everything as soon as I could. You may search as deep as you like, but you will find nothing that will incriminate...” and then she stopped. She had said too much and she was obviously cursing herself for allowing herself to be drawn out.

  It was enough for Adelia. She could not suppress her own brief grin. “There is incrimination to be laid at the feet of the family and I would wager that some crime was committed back in the twenties or thirties, a business deal or a theft or a fraud of some kind. Something happened to benefit the Lords of Buckshaw and restore their finances. But money has to come from somewhere. It’s a balance, a set of scales. Your family’s gain was another’s loss, was it not? Another family suffered a great deal while you profited from illegality.”

  The Countess blinked again, slowly. Now, even Lady Agnes was looking confused. “Mother? You have not told me everything, have you?”

  “I have protected you as I have protected everyone. And I will continue to do so. This charade is over!” She started to shuffle in her chair, preparing to stand up.

  But no one came to her aid. Lady Agnes kept her hands on her mother’s shoulders, and it was enough to keep her in her chair.

  “You ruined the Brodie family, years ago,” Adelia said. It was a guess. But it was a lucky one.

  “I? How dare you!”

  “If you are taking responsibility for the fortunes of the family now, then do so for the damaging secrets you are holding for the sake of the past,” Adelia retorted. “The Lords of Buckshaw, the Seeley-Wood family, ruined the Brodies in business. And yes, I do believe you that you believe it was something that needed to be put right.” She lowered her voice as a new insight came to her. Wonderingly, she said, “You really do believe in the curse, don’t you? You do, deep in your heart.”

  “It is superstitious nonsense,” The Countess protested.

  “No, you feel it! You believe, irrationally but emotionally, that the actions of your father and your brother and your son all contributed to the bad fortune that this family has experienced. The fake lapis, for example. You were probably duped in a massive business deal and ended up with a pile of worthless rocks, and you saw that as one more punishment from God for the family’s sins. The curse. And yes, of course you wanted to make up for that, expunge it somehow. I can see why. You know the Brodies were wronged, though all evidence has been destroyed. You married Lady Katharine to Jacob Brodie, hoping that by elevating him to the level of this family, you could clear the debt. It was some kind of spiritual balancing act.”

  The Countess flared her nostrils. Lady Agnes’s fingers tightened on her mother’s shoulders.

  “But it went more wrong than you could have imagined. Jacob died. Oscar has grown up strange, which is not your fault.”

  “The curse! It continues!”

  “There is no curse. Just an odd and lonely young man.” Adelia shook her head. “You have nothing at all to do with the deaths, and the lapis lazuli, real or fake, has nothing to do with the deaths, and the ice house has nothing to do with the deaths.”

  “Then why am I here?”

  “Because in the keeping of these secrets, you have prevented the investigation from moving forward.”

  “Worse than that!” Theodore said as fury began to blaze on his face. “It is far worse than that! I can see it now. For as we are slowly unearthing these things, Oscar Brodie has done so too – but he has been without access to the truth. With no one willing to put him straight, what manner of things has he concluded? He has created the very worst of stories in his head to explain all of the half-truths that he thinks he knows.”

  “Good heavens!” cried Captain Everard. “It has led him to murder!”

  “Yes! Believing in half-formed secrets has led to the murder of Hartley Knight – whom he suspected of knowing things, perhaps. Only Brodie himself can tell us what he believed. And the slow poisoning of our dear Felicia – why? I am not sure yet of what lies behind that but it must now all tie in. The attempted murder of Percy – for what ends, we still cannot imagine. But the man is guilty, and must be stopped. Where is he?” Theodore said.

  “Have we yet enough evidence to convict him though?” Captain Everard said.

  “I shall not testify,” The Countess said.

  “You must!”

  “No one tells me what I must and must not do. My involvement has made things worse at every turn. I resign all my influence. I shall say nothing and that is that.”

  “Your silence protects Oscar Brodie.”

  “He is family. He is blood.”

  “And Felicia is not,” spat Adelia. “Oh, yes. I have the measure of you now.”

  It didn’t seem to bother The Countess one bit. Lady Agnes withdrew her hands, and took a step towards Captain Everard. That made her allegiance very clear. Adelia hoped that it was not too late for her, and that the good officer could see past the web of lies that she was embroiled in.

  Theodore sprang into action. “Evidence,” he said in reply to Captain Everard. “That is what I shall gather and we shall start in Felicia’s rooms. Doctor Netherfield, I would value your assistance.”

  “And what can I do?” asked Captain Everard.

  “We must now go very carefully. I want to keep Oscar Brodie close but keep him from doing harm until we are ready to present our case to the police. Will you move in here? We must get Percy back here too, and say that we are ... oh, I don’t know. Planning some scientific experiments?”

  Captain Everard looked sceptical.

  “A hunting party?” Theodore went on.

  The captain shook his head. “At this time of year?”

  “Rebuilding and planning household alterations?”

  He winced but said, “I think that is the very closest we might manage, but he will surely suspect something.”

  “He will not. You are moving in here to get to know us all better as a family, just for a day or two,” Lady Agnes said, and there was so much meaning in her words that still no one was able to show that they understood what she really meant.

  But Captain Everard certainly understood, and he even smiled a little as he said, “I like that. Of course. I should be honoured.”

  Adelia breathed out. At least one thing was working out favourably.

  “I agree that he will be suspicious of us but let us ensure we keep him under close watch. We know that he favours the company of men as he seeks to make up for what he feels that he lacks, so let us invite him into our circle,” Theodore said. “He can do no harm at our side and while he is occupied with one of us, the others can find the evidence that the police need.”

  The other men nodded in reluctant agreement.

  “And us?” Lady Agnes said.

  The Countess sniffed and half closed her eyes. She was not interested in any part of the business.

  Adelia replied, “We will do all we can to press for the release of Felicia. Not because we think it will do any good,” she went on, a little sadly. “But it is what will be expected of us and we must follow th
e usual patterns of behaviour.”

  The doctor spoke up. “That is the most beneficial thing that you ladies can do, in my opinion, for it will show the world, but more particularly, it will show Felicia herself that she is worth fighting for. That will help to bring about a change in her mental state, which has been severely damaged until now, and the more sane she can appear when we bring this all to the police, the more it goes in our favour.”

  “What is the prognosis regarding that damage?” Adelia asked.

  “That depends on what we discover the poison to be.”

  “Oh, we already know that,” Theodore said. “It has all fallen into place. A continual exposure to very low levels of hydrogen sulphide, sewer gas if you will, is sufficient to cause mental and physical problems. Have we not all smelled it around the place? What we need to discover is the mechanism by which it has been delivered to her room in such quantities to bring about her illness.”

  “Then let us get to work,” said Captain Everard decisively. “And quickly. We must find Oscar and draw him to us immediately, but keep him away from our main investigation. I shall do that while Lord Calaway and Doctor Netherfield go to the younger Lady Buckshaw’s rooms. Lady Calaway, perhaps you would be so good as to head into Plymouth to find Lord Buckshaw? You no doubt missed him as you passed. The day is getting old and I worry that he might get himself into more hot-headed trouble. You have a calming way about you.”

  “I shall leave immediately.”

  They sprang into action and to their allocated tasks.

  Twenty-five

  Theodore and Doctor Netherfield hurried to Felicia’s rooms in the castle. Theodore strode quickly and the doctor puffed along behind, eventually saying, “You need not punish yourself so harshly, my friend.”

  “I am simply worried about the ramifications of any further delay,” Theodore replied, turning a corner.

  “No. You are beating yourself up for not having made the connections sooner.”

  Theodore stopped and drew in a steadying breath. “Perhaps, yes. I am unforgivably stupid.”

  “Do you not forgive your wife? After all, she did not see the answer immediately.”

  “Of course I forgive her!”

  “Then afford yourself the same kindness. Come now. We know enough to prevent further calamity from occuring, and now it is only a matter of finding sufficient evidence swiftly enough to secure your daughter’s release. And she is somewhere safe, and cared for, and away from further noxious gases. There is much to be thankful for.”

  Theodore made a noise that he hoped sounded like agreement, or at least, didn’t brush Doctor Netherfield’s generous intentions off too harshly, and continued on his way to Felicia’s rooms.

  The corridors in this part of the castle were wide and old, with grey granite walls and threadbare carpets running along the centre of the floor. Ancient solid furniture in every shade and type of wood gathered in little clumps at intervals along the passageways, and in between the furniture, the walls were hung with a selection of prints and paintings. Some might have been very valuable but others looked like the sort of cheap tat that adorned the walls of public houses and theatre lobbies.

  And of course, Theodore thought as they got to the door of Felicia’s main rooms, every ugly cupboard, every heirloom wardrobe, every Tudor trunk and every Elizabethan armoire hides a dozen places where someone might construct some fiendish way of delivering poison into a room.

  Doctor Netherfield stood in the centre of the room and closed his eyes. He sniffed the air. “I suspect I have become immune to the smell, as we all must have. But yes, there is a taint in the air.”

  “I have long become accustomed to it and can detect nothing. And I suspect that Brodie has constructed some way of regulating the flow of poison to prolong her agony over time, and to make it look as if it is simply an ongoing breakdown of her mind,” Theodore said, fighting the anger that once again threatened to overwhelm him. He began to hunt behind the thick heavy curtains at the window, pressing and tugging at the wainscots and panelling, even getting down on his knees to dig his fingers behind the skirting boards that ran along the bottom edge of the walls.

  Parts of the wooden planks were loose and a whole section came away in his hands.

  “Good heavens,” Doctor Netherfield said as he came over to inspect the damage. “A pipe!”

  They followed the exposed lead pipe along the bottom of the wall where it was tucked behind the wooden planking. It snaked into a closet. Theodore wrenched it open and did not hesitate before pulling out the folded garments and clothing that filled the bottom half. They found the pipe went through the back of the closet and into the wall behind the wood.

  “There is another room beyond,” Theodore said. Doctor Netherfield was already heading for the door.

  In the adjoining room, which was a general store room of clothing that was out of season and put aside in cedar trunks for when it was later needed, they found the pipe once more, this time hidden behind a wooden bench that had been built into the wall itself. On it went, the joins between the pipes clumsy and ill-worked.

  “This stuff would be leaking out all over the place!” Theodore said as they traced the pipe finally to a half-hidden and windowless room at the far end of the corridor near the servants’ stairs. The room stank of rotten eggs but it was next to a window on the corridor which opened out over the weed-clogged moat below. No one would have remarked upon that particular stench lingering in that part of the castle.

  “We must touch nothing,” the doctor warned. “But this is compelling evidence, don’t you think?”

  “I do indeed,” Theodore replied grimly. But would it be enough to save his daughter?

  WHEN ADELIA REACHED Plymouth once more, she found Percy deep in conversation with Commissioner Rhodes. Wine and brandy had been flowing, and food was scattered around on tables in an informal way. The men looked almost embarrassed to have been caught picnicking in the house, but their alcohol intake prevented them from apologising too much. Instead, Adelia was invited to join them.

  She realised she was hungry, and after one polite refusal, a mere token formality really, she allowed herself to be persuaded into taking a seat. She was not sure how much she ought to reveal to the commissioner about their plans, and so she erred on the side of caution and spoke only of everyday things and, of course, of her worries about Felicia. All she was there for, at the moment, was to get Percy to return to the castle with her.

  “Oh, I should not worry too much about how your daughter’s coping,” Commissioner Rhodes said, waving a piece of spiced and cured sausage at her. “She came and joined us a little while ago, didn’t she, old chap?”

  Percy nodded and he was beaming with something very like relief. “She was full of life,” he said to Adelia. “Quite like her old self again. I hope it can last. Except...” His face fell. If her mind was unhinged, she was safe from the gallows. “Sir,” he said to Rhodes, “You must come to the castle and arrest Brodie!”

  Adelia put her hand over his wrist. She tried to convey to him that other things were now coming to light by staring hard at him. “Brodie needs to be trapped into revealing his guilt and that can only happen if you come back tonight, and let the commissioner arrive tomorrow.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “There are new plans. But we shall prove her innocence,” Adelia said stoutly, not giving anything else away.

  “Glad to hear it, glad to hear it,” said Rhodes, apparently oblivious to Adelia’s attempts to let Percy know that things were happening. “Nice girl like that, all banged up in a cell – well, you know what I mean – I personally don’t hold with it, but the law’s the law, and if I can’t trust my inspectors, who can I trust, what?”

  You can overrule your inspectors, she thought sourly. “And where is she now?”

  “She grew tired once she had eaten – and she can eat, can’t she! She’s gone off to bed again.”

  Percy leaned over to Adelia. “Sh
e ate better than she had for a long time.”

  “I hate to say it, but she’s in the very best place,” Adelia said slowly. “Commissioner Rhodes, we all thank you for your kindness. Lord Buckshaw, I am hoping you might escort me home now it has grown dark. At once, if you will.”

  “Are you not staying here?”

  “We have much to discuss,” she told him pointedly. “But rest assured that your wife is in very capable hands.”

  As soon as they had taken their leave, and were climbing into the light gig that Percy had driven himself from Tavy Castle, they were able to speak freely to one another again. He said, as soon as they were settled, “I must say that I really am glad she’s there. She is a different woman. No, I tell a lie. She’s back to being the woman she always used to be. She’s the woman I married. Something’s going on, isn’t it? You were trying to tell me something. What cannot be said in front of Rhodes? Have you evidence at last? Why can’t Brodie be arrested at once?”

  “Oh, Percy. I have some startling things to tell you.” She outlined everything as they began the rocking journey back to the castle.

  He listened intently, his face contorting with horror.

  “We must turn the carriage around,” he said at the end. “Poison! Dear God! Why didn’t you tell Rhodes this?”

  “Theodore is looking for the evidence for the ongoing poisoning right now. And we have invited Captain Everard to stay because he can distract Oscar Brodie while we put the case together. We are all in danger from the young man now, but we must tread carefully – and quickly. It must come to court without a hitch and have no reason for Inspector Wilbred to doubt us.”

  “I hate that thought,” he confessed as they raced back through the streets and out into open countryside, pale lamps swinging on the corners of the carriage. “But I must trust your husband, mustn’t I?”

  “Yes.” She stopped talking then. He really ought to trust her, too. But she already knew that all the contributions she had made to the case were already being remembered, in people’s minds, as having come from the mouth of her husband and not her own.