Heirs and Graces (A Royal Spyness Mystery) (22 page)

As she went across to the bell, Jack also had risen to his feet. “How can you talk calmly of eating when your son is dead and everyone thinks I stabbed him?” he shouted, his voice echoing down the Long Gallery.

Edwina looked at him in surprise. In fact, she raised her lorgnette to him. “Such an outburst,” she said. “Hardly seemly for a duke, John. Really, you will have to learn to control your emotions. Of course I’m upset at the loss of my son. I am outraged that somebody chose to murder him. But I am also aware that it is up to us to set a good example, chin up, best foot forward and all that. This household will continue as usual, except for the fact that we will be in mourning for the requisite amount of time. No gramophones to be played. No radio. No dancing. A black suit will be required, John. I should ask Mr. O’Mara to advise you as to which one is suitable.”

“Bugger your mourning,” Jack said. “It’s all for show, isn’t it? Doesn’t anyone here care that a member of your family is dead? And my name is Jack, not John. I’m not your son come back to life. I’m me, and everyone better get used to me the way I am.” Then he strode out of the room.

“Well, really,” Princess Charlotte said, looking at Virginia for confirmation.

“A young man with spirit. I like that,” Virginia said. “Reminds me of a certain cavalry officer in Budapest . . . he had the most impressive—”

“A young man sadly lacking in manners.” Edwina cut her off. “But understandably upset. And given the circumstances, we should overlook it this once.”

“Do you really think he stabbed Cedric?” Charlotte asked.

Edwina sighed. “We cannot rule out that possibility. He has shown himself to be a young man of quick temper. If they met in the grounds and Cedric insulted him again, who is to say he didn’t turn and fling the knife in a moment of anger? Let us hope that fingerprints confirm things one way or the other, and life at Kingsdowne can return to normal.”

Except for Jack, I thought. One way or the other life would never return to normal for him.

Chapter 25

Edwina came across the room to Darcy and me. “Might this be a good time for you to put out those feelers you keep talking about, Mr. O’Mara? We seem to have been left in peace at last, and the sooner a top man from Scotland Yard is on the scene, the better.”

“I don’t think it would be wise for me to attempt to telephone right now, Your Grace,” Darcy said. “If the police have taken over your son’s study with a telephone extension in it, they will be able to listen in on any call that we make.”

“Surely they wouldn’t have the audacity . . .” Edwina began.

Darcy smiled. “They are conducting a murder investigation. It’s their job to monitor everything we do. We are all suspects, Your Grace. Surely you realize that.”

“Absolute rubbish,” she snapped. “So how do you propose to get in touch with people at Scotland Yard?”

“I think I’d better motor up in person, as soon as I’m given leave to go,” Darcy said. “These things are better done in person anyway.”

“Don’t wait too long,” she said. “I want my son’s murder solved, and solved properly and quickly.”

“I’ll do my best, Your Grace. We all will. We all want the truth as much as you do,” Darcy said, looking around the rest of the group for confirmation. I nodded.

“Well, I am going to see whether we are to be fed today,” Edwina said. “Are you coming, Charlotte? Virginia?”

“I must say, I am a teeny bit peckish, even though in the circumstances it is not quite seemly,” Princess Charlotte said, getting to her feet with difficulty from the low armchair. Her sister took her arm while Irene clung to her mother. The three Starlings waited until the family had disappeared.

“We really think that we should pack our little bags and fly,” Adrian said. “We clearly are not wanted here—in fact, the old harpy will do a dance for joy when she sees the backs of us.”

“And we shouldn’t intrude on a family in mourning, should we, Jules?” Simon said. “It simply isn’t done.” And he mimicked the dowager duchess’s voice to a
T.

“I’m afraid we’re all stuck here, whether we like it or not,” I said. “At least until they determine that we couldn’t have killed Cedric.”

“One of us, kill poor Ceddy?” Adrian demanded. “Duckie, there is no way I could have plunged the whopping-great knife into anyone’s back. I faint at the sight of blood.”

“I don’t see how anyone is going to be able to determine who killed Ceddy,” Simon said. “I mean, a house this size . . . It would be so easy to slip in and out without being seen. Especially early in the morning, and on a day like this. When it’s pouring rain, one doesn’t even want to look out of the window.”

“But there’s only one main entrance, isn’t there?” Belinda asked. She had been sitting at the back of the group by the window, remarkably silent for a while, and still had that petulant look on her face of someone thwarted. “Unless one braves the servants’ quarters.”

“There are French doors all the way down one side of the ballroom,” I said. “And I believe I saw French doors in other rooms too.”

Belinda sighed. “This is too, too tiresome. Let’s hope they arrest the wretched Australian and have done with it, so I can escape back to London.”

“Belinda—a few minutes ago, you were all set to marry him!” I exclaimed.

“That was before I knew that he had a violent temper and threw knives at people.”

“Well, I don’t think that he did it,” I said. “I mean, if you were going to kill someone, would you leave your knife sticking out of his back for everyone to identify? Would you leave the body across a footpath, where it would be easily found? Jack’s pretty strong. He could have dragged the body off into the shrubbery somewhere and we wouldn’t have found it for days, by which time he could have worked out a perfect alibi.”

“I’m going to have to keep an eye on you,” Darcy said, raising an eyebrow. “You’re becoming remarkably devious.”

“Well, I’m hungry,” Belinda said. “I believe luncheon was mentioned. Can someone please show me the way to the dining room?”

“And we’d better make the most of the last good meals we’ll get in a while,” Adrian said. “It will soon be back to baked beans on toast, won’t it, boys?”

“I suppose it’s too much to hope that Ceddy might have left us something in his will?” Julian said.

“I might have hoped until yesterday,” Adrian said. “But now that nasty little minx Marcel has turned out to be his favorite all along, I think it’s highly unlikely. Besides, you heard what they’ve said. All the money is tied up in the estate and it all goes to young Jack.”

“Maybe we should start being nicer to him,” Simon said with a grin. “He’ll need friends in his hour of trial.”

“He will,” Julian agreed. “We should go and find him and let him know that we are behind him all the way.”

For some reason, I heard Darcy chuckle.

“You three should not be called the Starlings, but the Vultures,” I said and they laughed too.

“Starving artists and performers like us have to do what it takes to survive, duckie,” Adrian said. “We thought we’d fallen on our feet here with Ceddy. I mean, a real patron of the arts who was going to build his own theater and let us write plays, act, design sets . . . it was a dream come true. Too bad of him to get himself killed.” He brushed a speck from his black trousers. “Come along, boys. Let’s go and find poor Jack and take him some food. He’ll need to keep his strength up.”

They left the room together. Belinda got up, stretched like a cat and followed them

I looked at Darcy. “Shall we?” He offered me his arm.

“Do you think we could slip away for a bit?” I asked.

He looked amused. “What have you in mind?”

“Nothing like that. I’d really like you to take a look at the crime scene for yourself,” I said. “There was something seriously wrong that the inspector didn’t seem to notice.”

“But you don’t know what it was?”

“It might come to me if I could have time to visit the place again with you.”

“Chief Inspector Fairbotham did say that we were free to go about our business, didn’t he? And that should include taking a stroll in the grounds. Although I’m not sure I like the way you’re so eager to be involved in yet another crime investigation.”

“Darcy, you spent several weeks on a ship with Jack. Do you think he’s capable of such a murder?”

“Capable? Absolutely. But as to whether he actually did it—I agree with you. He’s not at all stupid. He’d never leave his knife sticking out of someone’s back. Come on, then. Let’s slip outside while nobody is looking.”

I glanced around the room, and started in surprise when I saw that Sissy was still sitting on the far side of the fireplace. I hurried over to her. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t notice you were still there. Everyone has neglected you.”

“It’s all right. I’m used to it by now,” she said, attempting a brave, little smile. “Once one is a cripple, one becomes invisible. People talk over my head as if I’m not there.”

“Can I push your chair into the dining room for you?” Darcy asked.

“That would be lovely.” She gave him a sweet smile. “I rarely have the chance to eat with the rest of the family because it’s too much trouble to have me carried downstairs.”

“Now that your cousin is here, I’m sure he’ll oblige,” I said, and watched her blush.

Then she reached out and touched my sleeve. “Georgie, he can’t have done it, can he? Jack simply couldn’t have killed Uncle Cedric.”

“I hope not,” I said, “but I’ve been involved in murders before, and it’s not always easy to spot a murderer. Even the nicest people kill if they are pushed far enough, and we do know that Jack has a quick temper.”

“But he was up in my room by eight thirty at the latest, and he didn’t seem at all worried. Surely someone who has just committed murder minutes before couldn’t sit and chat normally without giving something away.”

“You wouldn’t think so, would you?” I said.

Darcy had maneuvered the chair away from its niche and started to push it down the room toward the foyer.

“So you really didn’t see Jack outside this morning, or were you lying to try to spare him?” I asked as I fell into step beside her.

“I really didn’t.” She looked up at me earnestly, shaking her head.

“I suppose it was too early for you to be sitting at your window.”

“Maybe. And I might also have missed him. Nanny came in to help me dress about seven thirty as usual, and then there was a short time while I was sitting alone until my breakfast was brought up to me by Elsie at eight. I know it was eight because I’ve a little clock on my mantel, and it has a pretty chime. Papa bought it for me when we lived in Paris.” A wistful look came over her face.

“And you didn’t see your uncle Cedric at all, either before your breakfast arrived or when you were eating?”

“I didn’t. If he went out about eight, as they said, then I was probably concentrating on eating my breakfast while it was still hot.”

“Did you see anybody else at all?” Darcy asked

She looked up at him warily, the rather dashing and dangerous-looking stranger she didn’t know. “The only person I saw was that man who came up to the house the other day and shouted at the butler—remember, Georgie?”

Darcy stopped pushing. I spun to face her.

“You saw the young man who had previously come up to the house ranting and raving, and you didn’t mention it to the inspector?”

She chewed on her lip, her eyes darting from Darcy’s face to mine. “I meant to. There never seemed a right moment, what with everyone talking and shouting. And I didn’t think he’d believe me, after what I’d told him about Jack, and anyway it probably wasn’t important because it was too early. I’d just finished dressing when he came running up the hill probably about twenty to eight. He looked as if he was out of breath and had been running hard. When he got close to the house he stopped, looked up at it, stood staring for a while, then he turned around and walked away again. Extraordinary, wasn’t it? But at that time Uncle Cedric wouldn’t even have left the house.”

“And did he go back down the hill by way of the glen?” Darcy asked.

“No, he set off down the driveway, toward the main gate.”

“You must report this to the policeman right away,” I said.

“Oh, golly, do I have to?” She chewed on her lip again. “He’ll cross-question me and make me flustered. And surely it isn’t even relevant—because I told you, it was too early.”

“Don’t you see he could have set off for the main gate then changed his mind and cut across the grounds lower down, out of sight of the house, then doubled back to wait for Cedric in the glen?”

“Why would he do that?”

“Because he was William, the footman whom Cedric had sacked only recently for moving the papers on his desk.”

“That’s awful,” she said. “Unfair.”

“I wonder if there wasn’t more behind that,” Darcy said. “Either he wanted an excuse to get rid of this man, or there was something among those papers that Cedric didn’t want anybody to see.”

“Oh,” I said. “I never thought of that. So maybe there is a motive for his murder that might be quite unconnected to the people in this house. He might have been involved in something underhanded—blackmail or something.”

Darcy nodded.

“There’s something else,” I said. “William was angry because his parents live in one of the cottages that Cedric was planning to tear down to make room for his theater project. That would give him an awfully good double motive, wouldn’t it?” I looked at them, quite excited now. “What if he came to confront Cedric, and as he approached the front door he heard Cedric saying he was going down to post a letter? So this man decides to cut around and confront Cedric in the glen instead—out of sight of the house.”

“But how did he get Jack’s knife? How would he even have known about it?” Sissy asked.

“Ah,” I said. “Perhaps he’d been in the tack room before.” I put my hand on her shoulder. “Look, Sissy, this evidence might just clear Jack—and that’s what you want, isn’t it?”

She nodded.

“Then let’s go straight to Cedric’s study and tell the chief inspector.”