A Death by Arson (15 page)

‘But surely Mrs Muller has explained?'

‘Mrs Muller currently feels unable to answer questions, and as she is in a delicate situation…'

‘And has recently fallen down the stairs and sprained her ankle,' I broke in. ‘And was thus unable to walk to the church along with everyone else. I, as her companion, stayed behind.'

Stewart huffed several times into his moustache before saying, ‘That would account for it, yes. Will Mrs Muller be able to confirm that you did not leave her side at any point? Only we have a witness who places you on the ground floor, near the main entrance, when the wedding party returned.'

‘I left her when we heard the bells celebrating the wedding. She wished to quickly bathe and change her dress.'

‘You did not stay to help her?'

‘I am a companion, not a maid,' I said icily.

‘Forgive me. I am not intimately acquainted with the duties of a companion. I had thought they were a relic of the older generation. Mrs Muller's husband is still alive, is he not?'

‘Yes, and often working away from home in the City for days at a time. His estate is in the country.'

‘And this is where you reside with his wife and …' he rifled through some papers, ‘his adopted daughter. A strange fancy to adopt a child when he has a wife able to bear him children.'

‘That is the Mullers' business and of no bearing to the current situation.'

‘That we shall see. I understand that the Stapleford seat is bequeathed to whichever of the Stapleford heirs first has legitimate offspring. Which would be your employer, Mrs Muller, yes?'

‘And she has given away that right to Sir Richard as a wedding gift to him and his bride.'

‘Very thoughtful, I am sure, but that leaves Mr…,' he searched through his papers some more. ‘Mr Bertram Stapleford.'

I looked at him blankly. How could we have missed this? Richenda forgoing her right in law did not automatically mean Bertram had forgone his. ‘Bertram is unmarried,' I said.

‘A state I am sure the gentleman could rectify if he wished. I believe he has an extensive estate in Norfolk?'

I thought of the sinking monstrosity that Bertram called home, but instinct warned me not give away how well I knew it. Fitzroy would never have given away information so freely. The Chief Inspector was throwing out lures left and right, probing for something, anything to latch onto. I would have to guard my temper and ensure that I was not the lead he decided to follow. I did not feel particularly alarmed as I had nothing to do with current events, but neither did I wish to be dragged into another murder. Even I felt it was becoming far too habitual.

‘Have you been aware of anything unusual happening at the castle?'

‘I have only been here four days,' I responded. ‘I do not know what is usual in this part of the world.'

‘For Scotland?' asked the Chief Inspector.

‘I meant for the current environs,' I said. ‘The castle and the staff are mostly new to me.'

‘Mostly?'

‘I have previously met Mrs Lewis,' I conceded.

‘Ah, yes, Mrs Lewis. The housekeeper who was here when the castle had the previous, more disastrous fire.' I heard the note of self-congratulation in his voice. He had linked me with the previous fire.

‘Indeed, I believe it happened long before we met.'

‘And how did you meet, exactly?'

‘In working for the Mullers, when circumstances required we return to Stapleford Hall, shortly after which I met Mrs Lewis.'

‘At a previous New Year celebration, I believe?'

‘If you knew that, why ask?' I snapped.

‘I have also been informed that you have spent some time in prison under suspicion of arson.'

At this point I thought of Fitzroy again, but in the most unladylike terms. I thought how I would dearly like to shake hands with his neck. My time in prison had been in service to the Nation, but I was bound by the Official Secrets Act from revealing any details. I could only hope that if I was arrested, Fitzroy, if he was even in the country, would hear about it and come to my aid.

‘I was released without charge,' I said. I determined to keep my answers from now on both simple and true. It had not for a moment occurred to me that anyone would know about the arson episode, let alone bring it up at this time. Stapleford. I knew it was Stapleford. I doubted he thought I had set the fire, but he hated me enough to, at the very least, create an uncomfortable situation for me.

‘Are you a member of the WSPU?'

‘No,' I said. It had never occurred to me to subscribe despite supporting their objectives. I swore internally to remedy this situation once we were back in England.

‘You just fancied a bit of an outing?'

‘You are correct in assuming I was caught up in the march by accident,' I said calmly. ‘I was accompanying Mrs Muller to the capital for a spot of shopping and sight-seeing.' I made a mental note to ensure Richenda did not contradict me. It would be in her best interests not to do so.

‘I see,' said Stewart. He produced a pencil from his pocket and made a side note in the margin of one of his pieces of paper. This was accompanied with more blowing into his moustache. I wondered if anyone had ever told him what an unattractive habit it was. His age could be anywhere between thirty and fifty, but I would have laid odds there was no Mrs Stewart. What wife would put up with all that panting and puffing?

‘I said, was there anything you wished to add?'

I jerked my attention away from the repellent moving hairs on his face. ‘Do you know who the bodies in the building are?'

‘I was thinking more along the lines of you offering me information,' retorted the Chief Inspector, who it seemed did possess a modicum of humour under all that facial hair. ‘But I see no harm in telling you what is known by every single groundsman. One of the bodies was found curled up, obviously overcome by smoke, but still reasonably intact given the ferocity of the fire. A man, not young, but not particularly old either. Possibly a passing tramp who sought shelter on the wrong night. The other is more problematic. A skeleton revealed when a wall fell during the fire. The local doctor believes it to be of a woman. We assume she must have been there for some time.'

My surprise must have shown on my face.

‘Did you assume it was someone else, Miss St John?'

‘I really had no idea, Chief Inspector. But to find one recent body and one skeleton does seem rather excessive.'

The sergeant suppressed another snigger, but this time it was not at my expense.

‘I believe that will be all, Miss St John,' said Stewart. I rose and was halfway to the door before he added, ‘At least for now.'

Chapter Twenty-two
Mary is blackmailed

Much like a wounded animal, my initial response was to retreat to my room, but it occurred to me that I was not the only resident who had been locked up for suspected arson. I went in search of Mary Hill. I found her in her room reading a book on socialism. She was at some pains to ensure I saw the title.

‘And so you see,' I finished, ‘I thought I should warn you.'

Mary gazed at me levelly. ‘Did you inform the Inspector that I was in the cell with you?' she enquired.

‘No, of course not.'

‘Unless you have shared that information with anyone present here I doubt it will have reached the Inspector's ears. The information was never circulated in the papers or I would have been in trouble with the Dean of my college. It seems you have made an enemy of someone among us. Who here knew of your incarceration?'

‘My employer Richenda, her husband Hans, and her stepbrother Bertram Stapleford.'

‘Ah, yes, the man you claimed as your brother, or was it your fiancé? You told so many misleading
histories
it is somewhat difficult to keep track of the truth.'

‘I know I deserve that,' I said, pushing down my temper, ‘but you must understand that everything I did was in cause of rooting out the murderer.'

‘Which at one point you believed to be me? I don't believe they did ever arrest anyone, did they?'

Oh, how I hated the Official Secrets Act with a passion. I had, in fact, solved this murder, but I could not risk telling Mary without revealing my association with the British Secret Service – or whatever Fitzroy was calling himself now. I swallowed down my bile. ‘No, they did not.'

‘And you were, in fact, entirely wrong?' persisted Mary.

‘It would appear so,' I said through gritted teeth.

‘Or it was all a rather clever charade to cover your own actions!'

I gaped at her. I stood dumbstruck for a few moments before I exploded, ‘I have never killed anyone!'

‘Ah, finally,' said Mary, ‘the sound of truth. Well, neither have I. So, as long as none of your associates mention my name in connection with our previous association, I imagine I will shortly be allowed to leave.'

I was about to protest but, in truth, the woman owed me no favours. ‘I will keep my counsel on one condition,' I said, thinking quickly.

Mary raised an eyebrow. ‘So now you enter into the murky depths of blackmail?'

‘I will keep your secret if you will agree to meet me at a time of mutual convenience in London for afternoon tea.'

Whatever Mary had expected me to say, it was not this. ‘Why?' she asked, her mathematical mind cutting directly to the heart of the problem.

‘Because I think we have begun on the wrong foot. We are not so dissimilar, you and I, and I would like the chance to prove it to you.'

‘Well, you have some nerve,' said Mary. ‘I will give you that.' She stood frowning for a few moments. I waited. I did not feel that saying anything else would help. Finally, she spoke. ‘I accept. We shall communicate by telegram and arrange a suitable meeting date in the New Year.' She handed me her card. ‘That is if you are not in jail by then.' Then she picked up her book once more and began to read. It was clear that I was dismissed.

I left the room and slowly made my way down to the ground floor of the castle. I was not yet sure where I was going. I regretted that Mary and I still stood on such bad terms. She had a quick and precise mind that I knew would have been of help untangling the current problem. However, she had shown no interest in the matter beyond not being falsely accused. (Again.) Was this, I wondered, how real ladies thought? To all others, with the exception of my strange small band of friends, was crime something best either swept under the carpet or left to the police service?
¹⁹

I turned a corner and began ascending the stairs to the Mullers' suite. If nothing else, I should enquire after Richenda's health. Perhaps if I told her of my interview with the Chief Inspector she would be so interested she would forget to be angry with me. Richenda had proven to be of great use in the arson case, much to everyone's surprise. She was not as unobservant as was commonly thought. She had realised quite some time ago that Bertram and I had ‘adventures', even if she had no idea that we were more and more often forced into these due to the ‘security of the nation'. She had also felt very much left out. Yes, definitely involving her now would help ease her moods and who was to say her unique outlook might not shed some light on the problem at hand. If only she was not with…

I opened the door to her suite and saw her sitting with her husband. Hans rose at once and came over to me. ‘My dear Euphemia, you look pale. Are you sure it is wise to be up and walking around so soon after your misadventure?'

I could have happily slapped him. For an intelligent man, Hans sometimes displays no understanding of his wife: she was throwing daggers with her eyes at me from behind him.

I had no option. I said, ‘I have just been interviewed by the police. They have learned I was arrested on suspicion of arson previously and I believe I am now what is called “a person of interest in their enquiries”.'

Hans turned to face his wife. ‘Oh no,' said Richenda. ‘I didn't. I did not mention a word to anyone.'

‘I am sure you did not,' I said, sitting down on a chair with an uncomfortable thud, the cushion being more for design than comfort. ‘I imagine the only person who would wish me so ill is Richard.'

‘But how would he know?' asked Richenda.

‘He is a man with connections,' I said, shrugging.

‘I don't see how,' began Hans, when Bertram entered the room.

‘What ho!' he said. ‘Another murder. Euphemia, you really are an albatross; certainly livened up Richard's wedding, though. I passed him in the Great Hall. He is spitting feathers! No doubt he thought he'd be lying late in bed with his new wife this morning, instead he's …' he stopped and took in our expressions. ‘Why are you looking at me like that?' he said, suspicion and wariness seeping into his voice.

‘Mystery solved,' said Richenda.

‘I do not think, my dear …' interjected Hans diplomatically.

‘You know what he is like when he has a drink in him,' said Richenda. ‘And of late that has been happening far too often for my liking.'

‘Are you talking about me?' blustered Bertram. ‘I own I like a glass or two of port after dinner, but no more than the next man.'

‘I would not be surprised if Bertram, with another glass of port and a cigar, was not responsible for this whole sad affair,' opined Richenda, who then promptly burst into tears.

 

¹⁹
It depends on where you stand on the social scale. If you are important enough in the Empire then your misdemeanours, however bad, will inevitably be swept under the red, white and blue rug. However, if you are poor and have stolen a loaf of bread, prepare for the harshest sentence the law can invoke. Justice is meant to be blind, but in His Majesty's United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, that blindfold seems to slip all too often.

Chapter Twenty-three
Unlucky for some