03 - Murder at Sedgwick Court (16 page)

Sergeant
Lane got up from his chair and taking his notebook and pencil with him made to
leave the room. Having got to the door he half opened it, but lingered a moment
or two as if reluctant to go.

‘What?’
Cedric looked at the inspector in amazement. ‘I mean to say, don’t you want to
ask me some more questions? You haven’t asked me anything yet about Emmeline;
where I was when she was killed, who I think might have wanted to hurt her,
that sort of thing.’

‘All in
good time, Lord Belvedere. By your own account you hardly knew Emmeline
Montacute.’ Inspector Bramwell looked up at the door, as if suddenly aware that
Sergeant Lane had not left. ‘Still here, Sergeant? Ah, is that footsteps I hear
in the hall? Possibly the ladies have come down now?’

‘Odious
man, the inspector’ said Cedric to Rose, when he caught up with her later in
the drawing room. ‘He’s a damned rude sort of chap. Goes out of his way to be
so, as far as I could tell. Can’t make him out at all. He didn’t ask me any
questions about the murder, just said that he would speak to me later, and he’s
sent poor old Sergeant Lane off to interview the servants. Bring back Inspector
Deacon, I say.’

He turned
and for the first time registered the presence of the other women in the room.

‘I say,
I’m pleased you managed to persuade Lavinia and Jemima to leave their rooms. I
got the distinct impression that the inspector was none too pleased that we
hadn’t all kept together in one room. Heaven knows what he thought either of
them were going to do.’ He studied them closely ‘My sister at least looks to be
bearing up quite well after the shock. That’s to say she looks an awful lot better
than she did in the maze. I’ll just go and have a word with her. Do you think
that I should offer my condolences to Jemima, or would that be bad form?’

‘That
would be kind. Tell me, is Inspector Bramwell really so awful, Cedric?’ Rose
asked, worried. ‘Sergeant Lane said he was good at his job.’

‘Oh, I’m
not saying he’s not sharp,’ reassured Cedric, ‘because I think he is. It’s just
that he seems to go out of his way to put people’s backs up. And he has an odd
way of doing things, although I suppose there must be some method in his
madness.’

Having
interviewed the servants, Sergeant Lane returned to the study. Although some
considerable time had elapsed he was not unduly surprised to find the inspector
in exactly the same position as when he had left him, namely settled
comfortably in Cedric’s buttoned-velvet captain’s chair, and seated behind his
large, walnut, estate desk. Due to his build, the sergeant had considered Inspector
Bramwell to be more of a man for quiet contemplation than physical activity. He
cast an anxious eye at the chair wondering how the spindles were bearing up
under the strain of Inspector Bramwell’s not insignificant weight.

‘Ah, Sergeant,
back are you? No doubt with some tales to tell. And I’ve not been idle, if
that’s what you’re thinking. I’ve been finding out all there is to know about the
unfortunate Miss Emmeline Montacute.’

Inspector
Bramwell leaned back in his chair making it creak and Sergeant Lane wince. The
inspector gave his subordinate a smug smile.

‘Have
you, sir?’

‘I have. I
hope it’ll throw some light on the circumstances leading up to her untimely
death. I find it helps to have a picture in my mind of the murder victim. As Lord
Belvedere says, it seems she was an heiress. You’ve no doubt been in some of
them Montacute department stores, Sergeant.’

‘One or
two, sir.’

‘All over
the place they are, least in all the big cities. Owned by her father, they are.
She stood to inherit the entire Montacute fortune on his death, so she’d have come
in for a pretty penny. Of course, we’ll have to find out what happens to the
money now she’s dead. Who’ll inherit the fortune, that’s what we’ve got to find
out.’

‘It
should be easy enough, shouldn’t it, sir, to find out who’ll inherit her
father’s fortune? All we need to do is have a word with the man himself. Speaking
of whom, have you been able to notify him about his daughter’s death?’ The
sergeant sighed. ‘I think I’m right in thinking she was his only child. The poor
fellow will be grief stricken.’

 ‘Yes,
she was an only child, and no I haven’t been able to get hold of Montacute,’
replied the inspector. ‘I managed to get hold of Montacute’s secretary though,
a chap named Stapleton, who informed me the gentleman’s off on his travels
acquiring new merchandise to sell in his department stores. Went to New York,
so Stapleton says, and been gone some two months all told. I thought we’d have
to cable him but, as fortune has it, he’s due to dock in Liverpool in a day or
two. The secretary’s making his way down there now so as to be there to break
the news to him as soon as he disembarks. He’s awful keen to make sure Montacute
hears the news about the daughter from him, poor fellow, and not from the
newspapers. Of course, we’ll make sure one of the local constables accompanies
him.’

‘Well, I
daresay that’ll make our job easier,’ muttered Sergeant Lane. ‘I wouldn’t have
recognised the poor girl as being Miss Montacute. I can’t say I’ve ever seen a
photograph of the young lady in the society pages, which seems strange given
her position.’

‘That’s
because the old man has kept her cloistered away in the Scottish Highlands.
There’d been a kidnap attempt made on Miss Montacute some years back, which you
may remember. It was foiled just in time, but I understand it was a very close
thing. It put the wind up Montacute something dreadful, so I’m told. He was driven
half mad with the worry of it all, quite convinced another attempt would be
made to snatch his daughter unless he took steps to ensure her safety. Not
content with residing in as remote a place as possible, he also took measures to
ensure that no photographs of his daughter ever appeared in the newspapers.’

‘Yet,
despite all that,’ Sergeant Lane said reflectively, ‘someone did manage to get
to Miss Montacute.’

‘They did
indeed, and kidnap, or should I say a failed kidnap attempt, must be one of the
motives that we shall have to consider. It would appear that the girl was
rather reckless about her own safety when given the opportunity. She waited for
old Papa to go off on one of his travels, which I am given to understand happened
infrequently, and then did a moonlight flit, so to speak, with that companion
friend of hers, Miss Wentmore. It was quite a shock for poor old Stapleton,
who’d been charged with the daughter’s safety in his employer’s absence. Most
indignant about it he was too. Said there was no reason for them to leave the
way they did.’

‘Oh?’

‘Mr
Montacute’s only stipulation was that a number of servants should accompany
them for their own safety. The secretary’s been beside himself with worry. The
girls had left no indication of where they’d gone or when they’d be back. He and
the servants had been praying that they’d be returned and safely ensconced in
the Highlands before Montacute arrived back from America.’

‘Poor
fellow, I don’t envy his task,’ said Sergeant Lane, producing his notebook and
jotting down a few notes. ‘I take it Montacute is likely to hold him partially
responsible for his daughter’s death?’

‘The man
thinks he’s likely to lose his job over it,’ confirmed the inspector. ‘Damned
unfair, of course, because girls are dashed independent these days. Stapleton tells
me he holds Miss Wentmore responsible. He’s of the opinion that it was all her
idea. Says Miss Montacute would never have considered doing anything so
foolhardy left to her own devices; says what happened is solely due to Miss Wentmore
and the influence she had over the girl.’

‘In which
case I wouldn’t like to be in her shoes when Montacute catches up with her,’ Sergeant
Lane said. ‘I assume you’ll want to interview her first. If Miss Montacute had
any enemies or had received any threats to her safety then Miss Wentmore should
know about them, shouldn’t she?’

‘All in
good time, Sergeant,’ Inspector Bramwell said, putting down the papers that he
had been perusing during their conversation. ‘I daresay Miss Wentmore will have
information useful to our inquiry. But as I said to you before, I do things a
bit differently to your Inspector Deacon. Me, I like to interview what I call
the ’little people’ first, what others might call the bit players. I daresay
policemen like your Inspector Deacon would consider them insignificant and
leave them till last to be interviewed. But as I say, I like to interview them
first.’

‘Why’s
that, sir?’ enquired the sergeant, looking distinctly puzzled.

He was
already at a loss as to why his superior had chosen not to question Cedric about
the murder when they had had the opportunity. It had been painfully obvious,
even to the most casual observer that the Earl of Belvedere had been rather put
out at being dismissed in such a cavalier fashion.

‘Because
they have a tendency not to watch their words,’ answered the inspector. ‘They
see all the goings on, so to speak, but are not so much a part of it. They are
not hampered by the various loyalties that the main players wrestle with in
trying to decide whether or not to impart information. No, it doesn’t take much
for our bit players to spill the beans, more often than not it just takes a bit
of encouragement on our part. And of course the bit players have another
considerable advantage over our main players.’

‘And
what’s that, sir?’

‘They see
things more objectively.’ 

‘I take
it, sir, that you see Lord Belvedere as having a main role?’

Inspector
Bramwell nodded.

‘Well
then, sir,’ continued Sergeant Lane, ‘I think you may have got it wrong in his
case if you don’t mind my saying so. He’s an upright young man from what I know
of him. I think you’d have found him forthcoming. It appeared to me, sir, that
he was keen to tell you what he knew.’

‘That’s
as maybe,’ said Inspector Bramwell, rather dismissively. ‘But his account will
be somewhat tainted. I’ve seen it before with the likes of him. They believe
they have a responsibility to their guests. Why, in one particular case I was investigating,
blow me if the damned duke didn’t do everything in his power to prevent me even
questioning his friends.’   

‘Lord
Belvedere’s not like that, sir,’ Sergeant Lane said.

‘Is that
so, Sergeant?’ Inspector Bramwell looked at him rather sceptically. ‘And yet we
have it on the good authority of the local constable that it’s more than likely
that our earl tampered with the evidence before he called us in.’

Sergeant
Lane said nothing and looked a little sheepish. To cover his embarrassment he
turned the pages of his notebook. ‘Do you want to hear what I found out from
the servants, sir?’

‘I do
indeed, Sergeant. Treated right, they’re even more forthcoming than the bit
players. Now, what have they to tell us, I wonder.’

‘Well, it
seems, sir, that the deceased and the doctor had taken rather a fancy to one
another,’ began Sergeant Lane, keen to redeem himself in the eyes of his inspector.
‘Quite taken with each other, they were. As soon as they laid eyes on each
other if the footman’s to be believed.’

‘But
wasn’t Harrison staying here with his fiancée? Now … what’s her name …?’ The inspector
glanced at his notes.

‘Yes,
sir, Miss Brewster. And as you’d imagine, she didn’t take it at all well by all
accounts. Proper upset, she was. Pretended not to notice what was going on, but
she was that miserable all the time that all the servants were certain that it
was going to come to a head, and it did.’

‘Oh?’

The inspector
had discarded his papers and looked up, waiting for the sergeant to continue.

‘According
to our gossip of a footman,’ continued Sergeant Lane, ‘Miss Brewster made some
blasé remark about the failed kidnap attempt. Miss Montacute burst into floods
of tears and Dr Harrison and Miss Wentmore had a right go at Miss Brewster,
asked her how she could be so unkind. Our footman enjoyed it no end, said he
hadn’t seen as much fur fly not since Lady Lavinia announced her intention to
work in a dress shop where, as it happens, she met Miss Simpson.’

‘When did
this outburst occur?’

‘The
night before last. After dinner in the drawing room it was, and in front of all
the family and guests. The footman said everyone was standing there, staring in
disbelief, wondering how it was all going to end. It was the count who came to
the rescue and changed the direction of things by talking about jewels. Miss
Montacute cheered up no end and told them all about the Montacute Diamonds, and
she and Lady Lavinia took it in turns to look at their precious stones using
the count’s jeweller’s lens.’

‘Did they
indeed? Well, well, well. I’d like to know how this count fellow fits into
everything. The young earl didn’t have a good word to say about him, made him
sound like some character out of a storybook.’

‘Do you
think there’s more to the count than meets the eye? I mean to say, how many gentlemen
just happen to have a jeweller’s loupe on them? It seems a funny sort of thing
to carry in the pocket of your dinner jacket, doesn’t it, sir?’

‘It
does,’ agreed the inspector.

‘And
another thing, sir. The servants said he was a favourite among the ladies …
well, at least with Lady Lavinia and Miss Montacute. Could be quite charming,
he could, had a tendency to amuse and flatter them. The general feeling in the
servants’ hall was that he was trying to ingratiate himself with these two
ladies in particular.’

‘Was he,
indeed? Did he have a particular favourite between the two?’

‘Now,
there’s a thing, sir. The footman thought he had a slight preference for Miss
Montacute, but subsequently turned his attentions towards Lady Lavinia.’

‘I’ll
wager he didn’t want to compete with the doctor fellow for Miss Montacute’s
affections. He sounds a fickle sort of a fellow to me.’ Inspector Bramwell got
up from his chair and began to pace the room. ‘Interesting that, Sergeant.’

‘Oh?’

‘Is it
just coincidence that he had a jeweller’s loupe about his person and these two
women have a pile of jewels between them? I doubt the other women would have
been able to scrape together any jewels of much worth. We’ll need to look at
this fellow pretty closely, Lane.’

‘Yes,
sir. Apparently he wasn’t the only one to have a bit of an eye for the ladies.
Thistlewaite is sweet on Miss Wentmore and according to this footman, although the
young lady in question has a tendency to keep herself to herself, it is
generally believed among the servants that she feels something for the fellow.’
 

‘Any more
affairs of the heart that I should be informed about, Lane?’

‘Lord
Belvedere and Miss Simpson, sir.’

‘An earl
and a shop girl, whatever next!’ The inspector chuckled. ‘I’ll wager the
servants have a view on that. Still, there’s many a member of the aristocracy
who’s married an actress or chorus girl in the past so I’m led to believe.’

‘And Miss
Simpson is not just any woman, sir,’ Sergeant Lane said quickly. ‘She’s been
very useful in solving some murders in the past. I happen to know Inspector
Deacon holds her in high esteem. Miss – ’

‘An
amateur detective,’ groaned the inspector, ‘that’s all we need.’ He held up his
hand as Sergeant Lane showed signs that he was about to protest. ‘And I don’t
care how highly thought of by your Inspector Deacon Miss Simpson is, she has no
part to play in this investigation other than as a witness and possible suspect,
same as everyone else in this house. Do I make myself clear, Sergeant?’