Death of a Dishonorable Gentleman (6 page)

 

Chapter Seven

Clementine was in the long drawing room with her friends, where they were idly indulging in the inevitable gossip that is always on offer after a large event in the company of close friends. It was nearly time for tea to be brought in and Clementine was surprised when Hollyoak appeared before them, standing in the doorway with his head bowed.

“What is it, Hollyoak?” She turned as he walked toward her and asked her to join Lord Montfort in the morning room. It was unusual for her husband to stir out of his study when they had a lot of people in the house and she was a little perplexed by Hollyoak's rather portentous manner. Always correct and self-contained, no matter what occurred, she could tell that something was troubling him: there was a greater intensity in his demeanor than was usual. He seemed almost furtive as he gave her Lord Montfort's message. She was grateful to excuse herself. Agatha had been boring on endlessly about her father's glory days in the House of Lords as a young man, where he single-handedly held the line against the Commons and their determination to prevent factory owners from using child labor.

She was completely unprepared for the sight of her husband sitting on the window seat of the morning room, his dogs in a sad heap on the floor, gazing abjectly up at him, at a loss to understand his mood. He was staring out of the window, his face haggard and drawn, with such a palpable air of despair about him that Clementine immediately thought of their daughter Althea, who had started her walking tour of the lower slopes of the Jungfrau yesterday morning.

“What is it, Ralph? What's happened?… Are you all right? Is Althea…?” She stood in the doorway, determined to remain calm. He rose at once and crossed the room, gathered her to him, and held her very close until she gently pushed him away so she could look up into his face.

“My darling, it's Teddy. He's been found dead in Crow Wood, murdered. Theo Cartwright found him early this afternoon.” She knew she looked horrified, because he stopped and guided her to the sofa, where they sat down together. He held her hands in his and continued.

“Morris Valentine was still staying at the dower house with Mother and he came over to the wood immediately. He's going to conduct an inquiry into Teddy's death.”

She nodded, but couldn't quite take in what he was saying. After a moment she asked if Teddy had been shot and was completely unprepared for his response that he had been hanged. She gasped, and her hands came up halfway to her face, as if to protect herself from seeing the hideous image that had jumped into her mind. Her husband put his arms protectively around her, pulled her to him, and held her until she was able to understand what had happened.

“Ralph, did you see Teddy?” she finally asked.

“Yes, my dear, a terrible death. I can't imagine who would want … He was heedless and selfish, but nothing he could have done…” His voice trailed off. She saw how wretched and uncertain he was as he turned away from her to stare out of the window again. She reached out and took his hands in hers, shaking them gently to regain his attention.

“Ralph, you did everything you could to help him grow up to be a decent man. Christina was always so distracted. Teddy either had too much attention from her or none at all. Now what are we to do?” Clementine knew immediately that things had to be done and was ready to move into the next phase, the one she was always most comfortable with, the business of doing. “Does Valentine have any idea how long his inquiry will take?”

“Probably a couple of days; after all, no one here killed him and we know our local poachers are not murderers.” He almost smiled. “Valentine will break the news to our guests. Harry's in there now with him.” He waved a hand toward the study.

“Harry's with him!” Clementine straightened up. Her eyes were fixed on his face and she was holding her hands tightly together, alarm flashing through her body. “Why is Harry with him?”

“Steady on, darling, no need for alarm. Of course he has to talk to Harry; they were all up at Christ Church together. He'll be talking to all the boys—they know more about Teddy's life than we do.”

Clementine said nothing. But she felt cold and her mouth went dry as she remembered the awful incident she had witnessed at the boathouse yesterday afternoon, when she had heard her son threaten Teddy with his life:
I'll break your damn neck …

She came out of this awful reverie to find that Hollyoak had arrived and was asking Lord Montfort to join Colonel Valentine in the study.

“Ask Lord Haversham to come in here while I am gone, Hollyoak. Lady Montfort should not be alone.” Her husband stood up and left the room and within minutes the door opened again and Harry joined her.

Lost in her thoughts and struggling to regain equanimity, Clementine could barely trust her voice to speak when her son came into the room. But she was sufficiently recovered to watch his face closely. Did he look tense? He was wary perhaps, she thought—yes, definitely wary. But it was so hard to tell with Harry.

“Mother, come and sit down. What can I get you?” He was as solicitous as if she had been caught in a rainstorm and still had wet feet.

“Harry, I … Teddy … I'm quite shattered.”

“Well, Mother, it's a shattering thing. Poor old Teddy, I can't quite take it in.” Harry led her back to the window seat and sat down in a chair facing her. She stared into his eyes and all she found looking back at her was kindness and concern. How could she suspect him of something so dreadful? Her son could never have done this terrible thing, it just wasn't possible. But she asked, “What did Valentine say?” and kept her eyes on his face, watchful of every flicker.

“He asked me to tell him about Teddy, which I did. You see, Teddy was caught cheating at cards…” Harry then filled her in on Teddy's gambling club at Oxford. Clementine was not particularly shocked about the reason for Teddy's expulsion. It was not surprising news. She remembered the incident at Eton when Teddy's fag had been thrown down the stairs for not cleaning Teddy's shoes properly; the incident had started with an irritated shove on Teddy's part and ended up with the boy in a wheelchair. And then there was that business with other boys' postal orders, and forged signatures. It was not surprising that Teddy could have systematically set about cheating his friends at cards.

As she listened, her mind went back to the boathouse and she saw Harry raging at his cousin as he threatened to break his neck. She knew her son well; he was not a complicated individual. She believed he was fair-minded, a decided champion of the underdog, with all the hallmarks of a gentleman and none of the bully. She made an evaluation of Harry's level of anger based on her new knowledge of Teddy's disgrace at Oxford. However angry Harry had been, she did not believe it was Teddy's misbehavior that had infuriated him. There was something else, something that cut deeper than Teddy's dishonesty.

“How was Teddy when he came to the house yesterday afternoon, did you have the chance to spend any time with him?” she asked, doing her utmost not to assume the tone of interrogator. She knew she'd succeeded because he answered her quite easily, and there was no change in the expression on his face or in his voice.

“I hardly saw him, there were so many of my friends here. I told all this to Valentine, by the way.” If her questions annoyed him after his session with the chief constable he didn't show it. But then Harry's manner often bordered on the matter-of-fact; it was how young men often behaved, thought Clementine, especially when confronted with emotional women. She scanned his face. So this was how Harry looked when he lied, she thought. He might have “hardly” seen his cousin, but the few moments he had shared with him had been violent ones.

“Harry, darling…” She was tentative, unsure how to proceed. Mothers did not as a rule interrogate grown sons on their conduct and certainly did not question the code of behavior that governed their bewildering masculine world; these things were best left to their fathers.

“Yes, Mother?”

“Harry, I saw you and Teddy by the boathouse.” She paused to let this bit sink in. “After luncheon, just as I was coming back to the house before tea.” She cursed herself for sounding accusatory; he knew when he had fought with his cousin and where.

“Ah, I see.” He colored slightly, looked away for a moment and then back to her. “And after seeing that … that exchange between us, you think perhaps I might have killed Teddy?”

His tone was quite level, polite even. He didn't sound upset but he frowned. Was it annoyance? Perhaps he was embarrassed. Whichever it was, he respectfully waited for her answer.

“Of course not. But you were very angry and you … well, it was all
very
loud. It looked so bad, so violent.”

“Yes, I suppose it did. Would you like me to tell you why I gave Teddy such a going-over?” The frown disappeared. They might have been talking about anything other than his shoving his cousin backward down the boathouse steps and threatening to break his neck.

She nodded. “Yes, Harry, under the circumstances, I think perhaps I would.”

He cleared his throat and getting up from his chair he joined her her on the window seat. “Very well then. I was walking back to the house from my meeting with Pommeroy and Father. I took a shortcut around the back of the boathouse. As I came round the corner, I heard a good deal of splashing out on the lake and I wandered around to the front of the boathouse to see what was up. And there was Teddy.” Her son paused, lips compressed, hands pushed down hard on either side of him into the chintz cushions of the window seat. He shook his head and shot her look of hurt and disgust at the memory of what he had seen.

“Teddy had thrown a heavy stick out into the middle of the lake and encouraged Percy to retrieve it.”

“Percy?” She couldn't help but interrupt. “He threw a stick for Percy?”

At fifteen, Harry's dog was far too old and arthritic to do much more than gently amble from his bed to his food dish. It was unthinkable that he had actually gone into the water, as the lake was still bitterly cold at this time of year. But Percy's stubborn Labrador heart would never accept that his glory days as a retriever were over. It would only have taken some enthusiastic egging on to get him to go in after the stick.

“The stick was waterlogged and terribly heavy and the foolish old man was floundering, but he wouldn't let go and it was beginning to pull him down. I peeled off, swam out to him, and somehow managed to get him in. The poor old chap was nearly done for. All this time, Teddy was standing there smoking a cigarette and watching me. I carried Percy into the boathouse, dried him off, and wrapped him up in a rug to keep him warm. Then I went out to Teddy and he said, ‘Sometimes it's kinder to let them go out the way they lived. If he was my dog I would have had him shot a year ago. Put him out of his misery.' I saw red, it was the last straw and I thumped him.”

Why wasn't she surprised by any of this? This was Harry through and through. He could turn stoically away from Teddy's bad behavior at Oxford, put on a brave face as Teddy dragged the family into yet another scandal, but it was beyond him to ignore the cruelty of bullying. Especially to an animal as helpless as his much loved old dog.

Clementine felt a momentary lessening of the load. For the first time since she had been told of Teddy's death she could actually move her shoulders.

“There was something not quite right about Teddy in that area,” was all she could think of to say, her relief was so immense. “He could never be trusted with small children or animals. I think it was the way he was made; something was lacking.”

Her son reached over and patted her hand. “It's all right, Mama,” he said. “Please try not to worry. Teddy's life was more awful than you could possibly imagine. We will never know what he was mixed up in. His death has nothing to do with anyone at the house, I'm sure of that. And if I gave him a trouncing it was bad of me, but I certainly didn't kill him.”

They both turned to gaze out of the window, and with deep regret and considerable confusion Clementine thought of the very young man who had been an uncomfortable and difficult member of her family. What a troubled and unhappy boy he had been. What caused some children to turn out so badly and lose their way? Anxiety started to chip away her earlier reassurance. Harry was wrong. His cousin had died a violent death and now a police inquiry would reveal exactly what Teddy had been “mixed up in.” Every question asked, every statement made would bring another of part of Teddy's unsavory life swimming up to the surface, and God only knew what else would come with it.

These disturbing thoughts were interrupted by her husband as he opened the door of the morning room.

“Valentine is going to talk to Oscar and Ellis now.” Lord Montfort seemed to have regained some of his equilibrium, but she thought his face still appeared haggard and wretchedly tired. “As soon as he has finished with them, he will meet with all of us. In the meantime we should just sit here and wait.” He came farther into the room and sat down with them.

Clementine was grateful that they could all sit still with their thoughts and not feel the need to talk. Her mind was trundling around so many what-ifs that she felt sure it could be heard in the quiet room. She would never understand how men managed to conceal their feelings so thoroughly. She was sure her face was an open book. She was scared. Ever since her husband had told her of Teddy's death she had been scared—scared for so many reasons that she could barely count them.

It was only twenty minutes before Colonel Valentine opened the door to the morning room, but to Clementine it felt like an ancient and dusty age had crept coldly by as they sat silently together. She looked up at Valentine standing in the doorway. Oscar, behind him, looked distinctly green about the gills, she thought. Ellis, standing next to Oscar, appeared calm, but as he glanced at Harry, Harry looked away.