A Mourning Wedding (15 page)

Read A Mourning Wedding Online

Authors: Carola Dunn

BOOK: A Mourning Wedding
2.89Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
“Shockingly lax,” Alec agreed with a grin. “At least Lady Haverhill, Lady Fotheringay, and Mrs. Walsdorf stayed put pouring tea. But we really must speak to absolutely everyone this evening before they forget who they saw and talked to in the drawing room and when. Here's our next suspect. If I don't ask about the finances, Tom, you ask about the London house.”
“Right, Chief,” Tom agreed as Piper ushered in Sir James.
The baronet strode across the room with the long pace of a countryman and offered Alec his hand. “How do, Fletcher.” His resounding voice also was that of an outdoorsman, used to hallooing to hounds. “Hope you're gettin' near to arrestin' the bastard who killed my poor mother. Anything I can do to help!”
“Allow me to express my sympathy, Sir James. Do take a seat. Let's clear up the formalities first.”
“By Jove, yes, must do everything all right and proper.”
“Good. First, I should remind you that what you say will be written down and you'll be asked to sign a statement which may be used in evidence. Your name and address, just for the record.”
“Sir James Devenish,” said Sir James solemnly, “Sixth Baronet, of Saxonfield, Leicestershire. Master of Fox Hounds. Used to be Justice of the Peace, but I had a bit of a dust-up with one of my tenants and they asked me to resign. Thought I'd better tell you. Your wife—demmed fine young woman, Mrs. Fletcher—she advised us to
tell the whole truth right away and I quite see you won't find the bastard who killed my poor mother if people keep things from you.”
“Very true, sir. Tell me a bit about this ‘dust-up.'”
The Baronet's ruddy face grew redder. “Silly business, dare say I went too far. Fact is, the fellow shot a vixen, demmed bad form. Said she raided his hen-house. Fact is, the fellow's been complainin' about the hunt tramplin' his corn or I shouldn't have lost my temper. Can't have it both ways, what? Don't like us huntin' across his fields, naturally foxes are going to get out of control. Shouldn't have horsewhipped the fellow, though, I realize that. A pretty penny in damages it cost me, I can tell you.”
“Did your mother know about this incident?”
“Gad, yes! She has … had the local paper sent to her every week and they put the case on the front page. Demmed scribblers! She saw a paragraph about it in the
Times
, too. Gave me a proper tickin' off.”
“When was that?”
“Oh, a month ago or so.”
“How did you feel about the scolding?”
“Made me realize I'd made a demmed fool of myself. I mean, gettin' in the papers, demmed bad form, what?”
“Were you angry with Lady Eva?”
“Gad, no! She was angry with me, don't you see.”
“Would you say you have a violent temper, Sir James?”
“Who, me? Peace at any price, that's my motto. Ask anyone! This business was a … a thing with a berry in it.”
“Aberration?”
“That's it! I mean, stands to reason, if I was always taking a whack at fellows, Mother wouldn't bother to rake me over the coals. She'd know there was no point. Good gad, man, I never even raised a hand to the children. Though, mind you, it might've been a good thing if I'd taken a cane to the boy now and then. Let his mother raise him and she's spoilt him.” Sir James shook his head sadly. “Useless sort of
chap, shies at a fence, even caught him spoutin' poetry once, though he don't write it, thank God.”
“Were you surprised this morning when you found out he'd arrived in the night?”
“Can't say I thought about it. Other things to think about, you know. My mother, and all that. Quite fond of her.”
“Yes, I'm sorry. If I tell you that we have evidence that she forced him to come, by threatening to tell you something that might well cause you to withdraw his allowance …”
“What the devil has the boy been up to?” Sir James demanded.
“I see no need to tell you, as Lady Eva effectively put a stop to it. Of course, it's possible it may come out in court …”
“You think Teddy killed his grandmother? Gad no, the boy wouldn't have the guts! Fact is, Angie, his older sister, she's got more spunk in her little finger. Mind you, we don't always see eye to eye, Angie and I. She doesn't like me hunting, or cubbing, or shooting or even fishing. But demme if she isn't willing to fight for what she believes in.”
“Fight?”
“Not with her fists! Angie wouldn't hurt a fly. Not unless it was bitin' a horse, that is.” He grinned at his own wit, then remembered the situation and sobered. “Veronica, my other girl, she'd want my mother to live forever if only so Angela wouldn't get her inheritance. Spiteful. And Peter Bancroft, her husband, he's a wet dishrag. I've two more daughters, one in Australia, t'other in the North Country, can't get away for the wedding. No sense wastin' your time suspectin' any of them, any more than Angie or Teddy.” Standing up, he leant on the desk with two massive fists.
Alec saw Tom—who had two massive fists of his own—preparing for intervention and gave a tiny shake of the head.
Staring down at Alec, Sir James said earnestly, “Whoever killed my poor mother, it wasn't one of my family.”
“I hope not.”
“Well, I just hope you catch the bastard, that's all. I just hope you catch him.”
“We'll do our best, sir. I promise you that. Just a couple more questions, if you please. I understand from the butler that you were among the last guests to go to bed, shortly before midnight.”
“That's right. It was just midnight when I climbed into bed. We had the window open and I heard the tower clock chime. Our room's up on the second floor and sometimes it sounds as if the demmed clock is in the room with us.”
“After that, did you leave your room for any reason before seven o'clock this morning?”
To Alec's surprise, once again the baronet's brick red face turned a brighter shade. “Er-hem,” he said, sitting down. “Well, er, yes, matter of fact I did. Twice, or maybe three times. Had to …” He glanced at Piper, diligently taking down his words, and went on in a hoarse whisper, “You know, go to the you-know-what. Sawbones says it happens as you get older. Demmed nuisance, what?”
Tom's moustache twitched. With difficulty, Alec managed to preserve his countenance at this evidence of a prudery worthy of a Victorian spinster of uncertain years. “Did you, on any of these … visits, see anyone or see or hear anything out of the ordinary? Footsteps, a door closing?”
“Gad, no! I'd have told you right away.”
“You didn't even see Miss Angela and her brother? See a light in the bathroom or hear water running?”
“No, nothing.”
“Pity. Can you pinpoint the times of your … excursions?”
“‘Fraid not. Fact is, I only wake up halfway, just enough to … er …”
“To get you there and back. Sergeant, did you have a question for Sir James?”
“Yes, sir. What are your plans for the London house, sir, now that Lady Eva is no longer in residence?”
“Good gad, man,” Sir James exploded, “my mother was horribly killed this morning and you want to know about the London house? I haven't given it a thought! Well, Fletcher, if that's all, I'll be off.”
“Yes, thank you, Sir James.” Rising, Alec offered his hand, which the baronet shook. “I appreciate your cooperation.”
“Just find the bastard who killed my mother.” With a glare at Tom, Sir James departed.
“The Bancrofts next, Piper. We'll take them together. Thank you for drawing his fire, Tom.”
“Under orders!”
Alec grinned. “Since he appears to be cooperative, I don't want him angry with me. What do you think?”
“I dunno, Chief. He certainly doesn't have any illusions about his kids. Seems like a straightforward kind of chap, but there's that temper to consider, and you can't overlook killing being as you might say his way of life.”
D
innertime was dismal.
Daisy and Lucy went down together. Daisy was wearing her black georgette, unadorned by its usual bright-hued scarf or necklace. Without that visual distraction, she felt exposed, but Lucy swore her pregnancy was not showing. Nancy, whom they met with Tim on the stairs, concurred.
“You're only a few weeks, aren't you?” she said. “Five months is when you really start to notice, and if you wear the right clothes, other people may not till seven months.”
“Wait till you're eight months and big as a blimp,” said Lucy callously.
“A pregnant woman is a beautiful sight in the eyes of God and man,” the Rev. Tim said in his gentle way.
Lucy snorted, but quietly.
In the drawing room Rupert, with Sally at his side, was dispensing drinks with a lavish hand and a sort of uneasy geniality. His position was difficult, Daisy acknowledged. He was standing in as host for his suddenly incapacitated grandfather after the death by murder of his father. A host ought to be affable but, in the circumstances, Rupert rather overdid the affability.
Daisy had known more than one survivor of the hell of Flanders unable to summon up more than token respect for his elders who had never seen action. Perhaps Rupert had never much respected his somewhat old-maidish father, so busy pottering about his greenhouses. If he had ever held him in affection he was concealing it well—but then, an officer and a gentleman was expected to hide his emotions.
“Dry martinis all round?” Rupert offered as his cousins and Daisy approached. “I'm rather a dab hand at dry martinis, though I say it as shouldn't.”
Lucy accepted. Daisy asked for vermouth without the gin. She had read enough Victorian novels to be certain gin was not good for babies, born or unborn, and besides, she didn't like it much. Nancy and Tim had sherry, one sweet and one dry.
Handing over the sherries, Rupert said, “I want to thank you, Tim and Nancy, for being so good to Mother and the grandparents. Sally's told me how you rallied round.”
Tim and Nancy made modest noises.
“You were marvellous,” Sally interjected. Having signally failed to rally round earlier, she had rallied amazingly with her husband's arrival. There was no sign of her previous nervous agitation. “No, honestly, Nancy …”
Lucy and Daisy moved away. “She's too sickening!” Lucy whispered.
“She is rather.” Daisy looked around. Except for the Haverhills and Lady Fotheringay, just about everyone was there. In spite of the drinks, they were a funereal crowd; the women had all found black frocks to wear to match the men's dinner jackets. The second murder had more than doubled the impact of the first. Those who had been merely irritable at the interruption to their lives now wore appropriate expressions, from downcast and anxious to mournful and fearful. People gathered in small groups, presumably of those they trusted, and looked askance at the rest (Sir James Devenish and his wife, notably,
were at opposite ends of the room, Sir James with Angela and Lady Devenish with Teddy). Voices were subdued.
“Grim!” observed Lucy.
“Here come your parents, darling. You simply must talk to your mother. I can't go on fending her off for you.”
“Grimmer! No.” Lucy sighed. “Poor Mummy! What a beastly daughter I am.”
As Lucy went to meet her parents, Daisy was waylaid by Jennifer Walsdorf. “Daisy, I'm not sure what to do. Your husband called in the Bancrofts and they went up late to dress, so dinner will be late. Well, that's all right, I've told Baines to announce as soon as they come down, but now he's got Lord Carleton. Is he going to keep sending for people throughout dinner?”
“It wouldn't surprise me. He has an awful lot of people to interview and I'm sure he'll want to speak to everyone tonight while their memories are fresh. The second murder confused everything. If I were you I'd warn Baines that people may be coming and going, so that he can make arrangements to keep their dinners hot. Are Rupert and Sally aware of what's going on? It's really for them to work out what to do, isn't it?”
“They've certainly taken over quickly enough,” Jennifer said resentfully. “I suppose they're in charge as long as the Haverhills are incapacitated, but don't expect them to do anything that requires any effort. And if I go and explain the situation to them, Sally will say it's all my fault.”
“I don't see why you should have to. Surely it's for Baines to ask them what they want him to do.”
Jennifer's face lit up. “Yes, it is, isn't it? I'm so used to being an intermediary between him and Mrs. Maple on one side and Lady Haverhill and Aunt Maud on the other, I hadn't thought. You know, we've been very comfortable here and I'm terribly grateful to Aunt Maud and the Haverhills, but in a way it will be wonderful to leave and make a life of our own.”
“That's the spirit!” said Daisy.
John Walsdorf joined them. “For so long,” he said, linking his arm through Jennifer's, “I have heard about the Scotland Yard detectives, how clever they are. I look forward to see for myself.”
“I have no doubt you'll get your chance, Mr. Walsdorf. Alec's bound to want to see everyone, at least briefly.”
“I'm not looking forward to it,” said Jennifer with a shiver. “John, I must go and speak to Baines.”
“Be sure Sally does not watch,
Herzchen
.” For a moment Walsdorf looked almost malignant.
“I will. I'm just going to tell him to ask her what to do about dinner.”
“Excellent.” He turned back to Daisy. “Jennifer's cousin Rupert and his wife do not like us. My country was invaded by the Germans and occupied throughout the War, yet Rupert considers me as a German. Sally, she resents that Lady Fotheringay and Lady Haverhill rely on Jennifer. Please, it is true, as Jennifer tells me, that the Reverend Timothy offers us to stay at his house while I seek for a position? I cannot speak to him in case that she has misunderstood, but you were present, I believe?”
“Yes, Tim and Nancy will give you a place to lay your heads if you have to leave Haverhill.”
“These are very good, excellent people! I must go and give to them my thanks.”
As he scanned the room, Daisy saw Lord Carleton come in, scowling. Behind him came Baines, who spotted Walsdorf and came over. “Mr. Fletcher, the detective officer, wishes to see you in the library, sir.”
“My turn for the high jump, as the English say,” Walsdorf observed to Daisy, “or perhaps your husband wishes only to know what arrangements I have made to stop the guests who will otherwise arrive for the wedding.” He bowed and went to the door. There he met
his wife. They exchanged a word and he patted her on the shoulder before going out.
The butler had continued on his stately way to Rupert and Sally. Daisy saw Rupert nod. At the same moment she became aware that Lord Carleton was bearing down upon her in no amiable frame of mind.
To her relief, Binkie—Gerald—reached her first, and Baines immediately announced that dinner was served. Gerald was far too gentlemanly to insist on talking about Lucy at table, whereas Lord Carleton, for all she knew, might have insisted on giving her his opinion of Alec over the soup. She and Gerald joined the procession through the Long Gallery to the dining room.
“Dash it,” he said in a low, gloomy voice as they entered the dining room, “I'd forgotten the conservatory opens out of this room. Do they keep up that silly business of the ladies withdrawing to leave the fellows to drink port here?”
“The Haverhills do. I don't know about Rupert and Sally.”
“Still the custom in the officers' mess. When they have ladies to dine, I mean.”
“If so, we'll have to wait till everyone's gone. I don't suppose anyone will linger long tonight.”
“Servants'll be buzzing about afterwards. Tell you what, you wait in the drawing room and I'll come in when it's all clear. Then you can join me there.”
“Right-oh,” said Daisy, “as soon as I can get away from whomever I'm talking to when I see you.”
“You're a jolly good sport, Daisy,” he muttered in her ear as he seated her at the table.
He was not the only silently gloomy diner. Rupert, in his grandfather's chair at one end of the table, kept a conversation going around him, though in the circumstances it could not be expected to be lively. Sally, at the other end, was less adept but managed to rouse
Montagu Fotheringay to one of his interminable anecdotes. The club-man had revived somewhat from the shock of his sister's death and, between sentences, he managed to eat with a good appetite.
So did Daisy. She had missed tea.
Soup and fish had been cleared away and footmen and maids were handing around veal with roast potatoes, asparagus and new peas by the time John Walsdorf reappeared. Jennifer had saved him a place beside her. Everyone watched as he sat down and they conferred anxiously together in an undertone. Daisy remembered Lucy's father's suggestion that Lady Eva might have discovered evidence that Walsdorf had been a German spy during the War.
Meanwhile, Ernie Piper had come in and spoken briefly to Baines. The butler went to Montagu Fotheringay. Though unable to hear, Daisy knew exactly what Baines was saying: “Mr. Fletcher, the detective officer, wishes to see you in the library, sir.”
Paling, Montagu expostulated. He gestured to his plate, which already contained veal and potatoes and was only waiting for vegetables. Baines was firm. He reached down and removed the plate. More than one mouth fell open, among diners and servants, at this unprecedented action by a normally irreproachable butler.
Baines had nailed his colours to the mast. He was clearly on the side of the police. No doubt, thought Daisy, he had been sincerely devoted to Lord Fotheringay.
Montagu Fotheringay struck his colours. He lumbered to his feet and every eye followed him out of the room.

Other books

The Bleeding Heart by Marilyn French
Tarzán en el centro de la Tierra by Edgar Rice Burroughs
Sweet Poison by David Roberts
My Russian Hero by Macguire, Jacee
Kill the Ones You Love by Robert Scott
Finding Valor by Charlotte Abel
Only We Know by Victoria Purman
And Baby Makes Two by Dyan Sheldon