Heirs of the Body (32 page)

“I have to deal with the bobbies they’re sending from Worcester to search for the weapon used to attack Vincent. I don’t hold out much hope of finding it, nor of it telling me much if we do, but the effort must be seen to be made.”

“Good luck, darling. I hope you don’t get rained on.”

“It’s misty out. Not foggy enough to hinder the hunt. I expect it’ll be sunny later.”

“It’s a pity to waste this beautiful weather trying to catch a criminal. My apologies for my relatives’ shenanigans!”

After the disturbed night, Daisy couldn’t fall asleep again. She drowsed for a while, then got up early. She was the first down to breakfast, apart from Alec, who wasn’t there.

“Mr. Fletcher’s breakfasting in the study, madam,” Ernest told her. “There was
five
telegrams waiting for him when he come in from the garden!”

“Did they find … anything out there?”

“Not as I know of, madam. The bobbies, they’re to stay here, just sort of keeping an eye on things. They’re having a bite in the kitchen. Mr. Fletcher’s in his lordship’s study. He’s just called in that Smethwick, as was Mr. Raymond’s driver. Champing at the bit, he is, to get back to London.”

“Let me know as soon as Mr. Fletcher is alone, will you?” Daisy was itching to know what news the portentous five telegrams had brought.

Sam came down, looking worried. “Martha’s not feeling at all well.”

“Oh dear! She’s not having an easy pregnancy, is she? I sailed through mine after a bit of morning sickness at the beginning. My sister Violet is the one who always has a hard time.”

“She’s told me about … Lady John, is it? It sounds as if she’s been very kind.”

“They enjoy each other’s company. I’ll see if Vi can come up and sit with her for a while today. Is she coming down?”

“I gather she’s been breakfasting in bed. She’s thinking of staying in our room this morning, if that wouldn’t be rude. You’ll have to excuse me not knowing the proper thing. I’m not used to such exalted company.”

“Alec’s a copper. Lord Dalrymple was a schoolmaster. We’re not so very exalted. Though I should warn you about my mother, the dowager viscountess.”

“Martha said she’s very—” He grinned. “Well, that’s not to be repeated.” Sam rose as Geraldine and Edgar came in. Ignorance of etiquette didn’t preclude good manners. “Good morning.”

For the next few minutes, Lowecroft and Ernest were bustling about, in and out with fresh tea for Geraldine and freshly poached eggs for Edgar. Lowecroft, setting down a small, steaming teapot beside Geraldine, murmured something in her ear.

When he and the footman had both left the room, Geraldine said in tones of strong indignation, “Apparently Laurette told the maid who took their early tea that they’re not coming out of their room until Mr. Pearson arrives!”

“One can hardly blame them, my dear,” Edgar soothed her. “After all, Cousin Vincent has been attacked twice.”

“Twice!” Sam exclaimed.

“On Sunday,” Daisy told him. When Sam was supposedly in London. He had gone to the Hampstead house, he’d said, and spoken to Elsie. That couldn’t have taken long. After that, he claimed to have toured the sights of the city. Impossible to verify! A fast car—

“I’m not convinced the first occurrence wasn’t an accident,” said Geraldine, with a minatory look at her sheepish husband.

Ernest popped in again with more toast. On his way out, as he passed behind Daisy’s chair, he leant towards her. “The chief inspector is free,” he muttered from the side of his mouth, with such discretion she wouldn’t have understood if she hadn’t been expecting the message.

Daisy hastily finished her coffee. “Alec,” she explained apologetically to Geraldine. “I have to seize the moment.”

“I must say it’s comforting to have him in charge, Daisy. This … this whole business would be insupportable with a stranger!”

As Daisy reached the door, the kids arrived. They had all-too-clearly already been out, somewhere particularly muddy. Perfunctory efforts at cleaning themselves up had not much improved matters.

“It’s all right, Mummy, we just came to say good morning to everyone. We’re too mucky to sit at table.”

“We had breakfast in the kitchen, Aunt Daisy,” said Derek.

“Poor Cook! All right, say your good mornings from the door. Don’t step on that carpet!”

Greetings were exchanged.

“Mummy, where’s Daddy?”

“Busy, darling.”

“Where’s Uncle Frank?” Ben asked, slightly worried.

“Right here,” said Frank from behind them. “You revolting creatures, what have you been up to?”

“We went down to the river, sir,” Derek explained, “to see if it’s gone down enough for boating.”

“No boating till I’ve had a look,” said Daisy, “and the boat’ll have to be checked in case it was damaged by the flood.” Or by sabotage. “Off you go now. If you’re staying in the house you’d better wash a bit more thoroughly.”

“We’re going out again, Aunt Daisy. The sun’s coming out. It’s going to be a capital day!”

“Off you go, now, and enjoy it,” said Frank.

“I’ll come and join you at the boat in half an hour,” Edgar proposed. “I’ll bring Truscott to give it a thorough inspection.”

“Thanks, Uncle Edgar!”

As they ran off, Frank turned to Daisy and said in a low voice, “There’s a couple of bobbies roaming about, did you know? I’ve asked one of them, a young chap, to keep an eye on the kids. On Ben in particular. He said he’d do his best.”

Daisy approved. At present, Frank was the suspect with the most opportunity to carry out every attack, but some incidents were by no means proven to be attacks rather than sheer accident. The kids were the most vulnerable. They should be the first protected now that manpower was available.

Frank went into the breakfast room and Daisy headed for Edgar’s den. She found Alec eating bacon, sausages, kidneys, fried bread, and fried tomatoes at the desk, surrounded by telegram forms, various papers, and a couple of volumes of an encyclopaedia.

“Nothing like exercise before breakfast to give you an appetite,” she said. “Ernest said you didn’t find the weapon?”

“No,” he said gloomily, “nor any footprint, what with gravel on the paths and leaf litter under the bushes. It must have been the sound of a step onto the gravel that made Vincent start to turn.”

“And saved his life.”

“Possibly.” He mashed a tomato on the fried bread, the way he did at home but not in polite company.

“And the telegrams?”

“What about the telegrams?”

“There’s no need to be disagreeable, darling. You said the weapon probably wouldn’t help anyway. Did you get responses from all those places?”

“Believe it or not, the farthest away have answered already: Trinidad and Jamaica—admittedly they’re a few hours behind us—but Cape Town as well, and I believe they’re an hour ahead.”

“Ahead? I always get confused.…”

“When I wired them, it was already an hour or two later in the day there than here. Like Paris. In the West Indies it was still morning.”

“Paris? Why Paris?”

“Your ancestor, the one responsible for this troublesome lot, was married to a Frenchwoman. His son, Vincent’s grandfather, was sent to live with her family in France. And Vincent married a Frenchwoman. Doesn’t he even use his wife’s surname in his professional career?”

“His great-grandmother’s, I think.”

“The ties to France are very strong. I asked Geraldine—she was still up, writing letters—if she knew which part of France, and she told me Paris.”

“Yes, that’s right. But I still don’t see—”

“The more I can get to know about each of them, the better chance I have of working out who’s trying to do what to whom.”

“Yes, I can see that. Did you find out anything about Vincent from Scarborough?”

“They’re the others who haven’t answered yet.”

“Scotland Yard is more impressive the farther away from it you are?”

“That’s the way it looks!”

“What did Trinidad and Jamaica and South Africa have to say?”

“Crowley’s known to Port-of-Spain police. He’s had a couple of drunk and disorderlies, and thirty days for illegal gambling. All a good few years ago, before he married Benjamin’s mother. No violent offences on his record. He’s a master mechanic, started in the asphalt business—”

“Road making?”

“No, extraction. They have a lake of asphalt in Trinidad, apparently. Since marrying Ben’s mother, Susanna, in ’22, Crowley has worked at the dockyards in Port-of-Spain. A good job, overhauling marine engines. Pays well, but intermittent, and he’s pretty much lived up to his income what with four stepkids to bring up. That’s not from the police—it’s what he told me last night.”

“The dockyards. So he could have met Sam.”

“They both deny it. At that end, proving they knew each other would be difficult. At this end, we might have a chance.”

“If they were in it together, it would clear up a lot of the mystery, wouldn’t it? Suppose Frank agreed to help Sam become heir in return for taking the kids into his care.”

“And other valuable consideration, no doubt. Yes, it’s conceivable.”

“It would explain the attacks on Ben—counting Bel’s fall. Frank was trying to divert suspicion and didn’t want to hurt him. He could have made the attempt on Vincent in the wood. And if he knew when Sam was due to arrive, he could have met him at the station and pointed out Raymond to him.”

“Eleven twenty. We hadn’t yet arrived in Worcester.”

“Well, they could have somehow arranged to meet. You’ll have to find out what Frank was up to at the Wedge and Beetle.”

“I shall, believe me.”

“So Frank met Sam and Sam tried to push Raymond under a tram. Then he tried to stab Vincent in the garden.… They’re not very efficient, are they?”

“No. For two active fellows in the prime of life, they’re downright incompetent.”

“So perhaps it isn’t them,” Daisy said hopefully.

“I must find out whether Crowley’s received any letters or made any telephone calls since he’s been here. At the pub, perhaps, or post restante.” Alec made a note. “Or he could have found out about trains when he was in London and left a message somewhere prearranged.”

“Was Sam really on that ship?”

“He wasn’t on the copy of the crew manifest kept in Kingston.”

“Oh dear!”

“But that’s explicable. The chap who’s listed fell ill and Sam was taken on at the last minute. All it would take is a clerk forgetting to make the change. With everything so vague, the Admiralty won’t put out a request to all ships to look out for the
Julianna
. It’s a matter of waiting till she reaches Clydeside.”

“What else did the Kingston coppers tell you?”

“Nothing useful. Nothing I didn’t already know, except that Sam has no police record. Which could mean he’s never been caught, or could mean he’s never met with a big enough temptation. Other than the rumrunning caper, that is. That shows a tolerance for risk in pursuit of a sizable prize.”

Daisy didn’t want to pursue the idea of Frank and/or Sam as would-be murderers. Particularly Sam. She liked both, but Sam’s guilt would devastate Martha. “What about South Africa?”

“Raymond was carrying rough diamonds all right. He went to Antwerp between his first call at Fairacres and this visit. He showed what he’d brought to a couple of diamond merchants, and they were to prepare bids for his consideration on his return. Or something of the sort; I’m not clear on the details.”

“Anyone who knew who he was could have guessed he had them on him and followed him all the way from Cape Town, or from Antwerp, just waiting for an opportunity!”

“The middle of a busy street crossing in the heart of Worcester hardly seems the ideal opportunity.”

“Perhaps not. He wasn’t caught, though, was he. He could have had another try if Raymond hadn’t dropped dead.”

Alec looked sceptical. “I wish I thought so. As it is, we’re going to have to try to check everyone’s movements after they left the cathedral. I’m going to talk to the Worcester police about that.” He glanced at his watch, stood up, and collected all the papers together. “I must go. Smethwick’s going to drive me into Worcester in Raymond’s car and go on to London. I’ll meet Tom and Ernie and borrow a police car to bring them back. If you have any bright ideas, save them.”

“Darling, are you actually asking me for bright ideas? Wild speculation?”

“This business is such a confounded mishmash, I have a feeling it’s going to take a bit of wild speculation to solve it!”

THIRTY

Daisy decided
that the weather was too good to waste, and that going for a walk was as good a way as any to inspire bright ideas. If she was going for a walk, she ought to call in at the Dower House, or she’d have her mother complaining of neglect again. If she didn’t take the twins with her, Mother would complain that she never saw them.

Also, she could tell Vi that Martha was unwell and hoped for a visit.

Oliver and Miranda couldn’t walk all the way, though. That meant taking the double pushchair. Getting the contraption over the hill while keeping the toddlers from straying too far was really a two-man job. Belinda would willingly help, but she had gone with the boys, Edgar, and Bill Truscott (and, no doubt, Nana and Pepper) to inspect the boat, so Nurse Gilpin would have to go with Daisy.

Mrs. Gilpin’s disapproving presence would probably squelch any bright ideas at birth. However, the other reasons for the expedition still stood, and once conceived it could not easily be abandoned.

Daisy hoped her subconscious mind continued to work on the problem, because the twins had such fun on their outing that she almost forgot about Raymond’s death and the inexplicable events that might or might not be connected. The dowager made it plain that she considered the whole affair beneath her notice.

In a low voice, Vi asked nervously about Derek’s safety.

“Alec’s letting Belinda stay.” Daisy recalled the time she had broken off their engagement because he accused her of endangering Bel. “As far as we can tell, Ben himself isn’t really in danger. In any case, he’s safer when the others are with him. There’s a bobby keeping an eye on them, not to mention Ben’s stepfather, and Edgar, and Ernest, too, when they’re indoors.”