Murder at Locke Abbey (19 page)

“She puts aside the letter she was writing to a friend, and tries to write the name of the person who stabbed her. See,” she held the sheet of paper out towards them. “At the beginning of the line, the pen went in a different direction, down the page. That could be the start of a letter but she was too frightened to control the pen, or perhaps the killer banged on the door, making her jump, or she’s growing so weak, she can no longer control the pen.”

“It sounds plausible,” Cole agreed.

“Her body was found with her head to the door, feet to the bureau, correct?”

“Yes.”

“She makes one last effort at summoning help by heading to the door, where she stands more chance of being heard, only she’s weak now. Summoning the last of her strength, she gets up, but her arm drags off the desk, pulling some papers and the ink well off the desk as she moves.” Thea demonstrated, her arm dragging over the desk top as she got to her feet. “She staggers towards the door but by now is feeling dizzy; she bumps into the table, knocking the vase off. She manages two more paces before she is overcome by her injuries and falls, here.” She indicated the blood stain on the rug.

“It makes sense,” her father praised.

“Almost,” Thea agreed. “I don’t think the mess in here was a sign of a struggle, I think Mrs Garwood knocked all those things over, but I also don’t think she was stabbed elsewhere.”

“How can you tell?” Cole asked.

“Because blood is essentially a liquid and subject to gravity. If she were stabbed in the hallway, I would expect the blood on her dress to have formed a long stain, from the site of the wound downwards, but the doctor assured me the stain was circular. And of course, she was stabbed with her own letter opener. If the murder was premeditated, the killer would have used a better, sharper knife. Why go into her room, steal her paper cutter, then wait in the hallway or elsewhere to stab her? It’s a weapon of convenience, not choice.”

“So you think she
was
attacked in this room?”

“
The only thing I can say for certain, is that she was stabbed very shortly before she died and she didn’t move very far.”

“Which you know because of the shape of the blood stains?”

“Yes, and the lack of blood. Had she been bleeding for a while, she would have left a lot more blood on her dress and the floor.”

“What if the killer knocked on her door?” Cole suggested. “She opens it,
he stabs her but she manages to close and lock the door.”

“It doesn’t explain the disarray,” Copley added.

“No,” Thea agreed. “But that is the kind of unconventional thinking we need. Perhaps there is another explanation for the mess, unrelated to her stabbing.

“Such as?”

“I’m not sure, Papa. I wish her lady’s maid was still here to talk to. I’ve written to her uncle but I suspect she has already found alternative employment, so it may take a while to receive a reply.”

“What could she tell you?” Cole wondered.

“Mrs Garwood’s movements that evening. She came up to her room after the meal, pleading a headache, correct?” Thea went to stand by the door.

“Correct,” Cole agreed.

“Mrs McCall would probably already be in here,” Thea mused. “If not, she would have rung the bell to summon her.” Thea went to the rope which if pulled, would summon a maid. “Then Mrs Garwood would probably enter her dressing room, either to wait for her or to undress.”

She went into that room, followed by Cole and her father.

“She would probably have changed first.” She approached the wardrobe.

“Why?” Cole asked.

“Gowns are expensive and difficult to wash, so most women prefer not to wear them for longer than necessary. Plus, corsets can be rather uncomfortable; you cannot imagine the relief felt when taking it off at the end of each day.”

“Yes…” His voice sounded strained, and Copley gave him a look as if to say ‘You wanted this’.

“She would probably have washed next.” Thea fingers trailed over the now empty jug and bowl. “Then she would have sat here.” She moved to the dressing table and took a seat. “McCall would have taken her hair down then brushed it, usually at least fifty strokes, often a hundred.” She picked up the badger hair brush.

“Why so many?” Cole asked, surprised that there was so much about a woman’s routine that he was unfamiliar with.

Thea was looking through the drawers again.

“It helps keep it in good condition and spread the natural oils along the hair shaft to protect it. Sometimes a tonic will be used to ref
resh the hair. Was her hair ragged or braided?”

“Just a braid.”

Thea nodded and began opening the pots and creams.

“She could likely have used this on her face and neck, the soap would leave her skin feeling tight.” S
he sniffed a pot of Galen's cold cream, then replaced the lid and picked up a bottle of Le Mort's elixir. “She was suffering a cold so at some point, would have taken this.” She sniffed the contents of the bottle. “It’s nicer than I remember.”

“What is?” Cole asked.

“The elixir. I would sometimes be given it as a child, but I always hated the taste of liquorice.”

She opened a box
beside the bottle, which housed a deep teaspoon used to measure the elixir.

“McCall would have rinsed and dried the spoon, then
Mrs Garwood would have likely dismissed her for the night. It would still be relatively early then. I gather Mrs Garwood was found in her dressing gown?”

Cole nodded and they all returned to the bedroom. Ann was sitting on the bed and distracted, Thea approached and scratched the dog behind its ears, rather than telling her to get down, as she should.

“Then Mrs Garwood likely didn’t go to bed. I suspect she sat at the writing desk, to start or continue writing the letter we found.”

“What if she felt unwell?” Cole asked. “Perhap
s her cold was more serious than she thought and she developed a fever, or became faint. She could have knocked the papers off and ran into the table while seeking help.”

“But instead found her killer,” Thea finished his thought. “If she was unwell, it might explain why she didn’t fight back
.”

“Rather
convenient for the killer though, isn’t it?” Copley asked.

“
Or opportunistic, but coincidences
do
happen and everyone is lucky from time to time. I wish we could speak to her lady’s maid, ask if she had seen any signs of illness or fatigue.”

“Why did she leave?” Copley asked. “I was under the impression that everyone was asked to stay.”

“Mr Garwood dismissed McCall immediately,” Thea explained. “Black allowed her to remain here for a few days while she made arrangements, but she left as soon as she had somewhere to go.”

“Actually, if memory serves,” Cole interjected. “
Lord McAllister didn’t request everyone stay until after Mary Potter’s death. I suspect he would have blamed Mrs Garwood’s death on the next itinerant or thief that was caught but with two deaths, he had to admit that the killer was likely someone in the house.”

“Are you saying he’s corrupt?” Lord Copley asked.

“Not exactly. He does however, have some very old-fashioned notions about the sanctity of high rank. He would do almost anything to avoid a scandal among the aristocracy, which is I suspect, why he desperately hopes to find a servant responsible.”

“You won’t let him arrest someone innocent?” Thea asked.

“I can't stop him, but I will pay for the defence and do everything in my power to protect them,
if
I believe they are innocent of these murders.”

“That’s another assumption
we must be wary of, that the same person killed both women.”

“You think we have two murderers?” Cole sounded surprised.

“I think that there are as many differences as similarities, and killers don’t generally change their methods.”

“
But they were both women on their own, attacked at night and neither was… interfered with.”

“True but one was stabbed, just a single wound,
and the other was bludgeoned, multiple times with a great deal of force, indicating a lot of rage that was missing from the first killing. I’m not saying that the same person didn’t commit both crimes, only that it
could
be different people.”

The clock in the hallway chimed six and Cole took his pocket watch out to check. “I didn’t realise it was so late. If you’ll both excuse me, I want to see how my father is and if he is calm or sleeping, I’ll take my sisters to see him. It… it may be the last time.”

Thea approached him. “Is he really that bad?”

“I am no medical man but yes, I believe he is. The doctor also left opium
granules with his nurse, and that is never a good sign. I fear that in his already weakened state, the opium may make him comfortable, but will shorten what life he has left.”

“If he is in pain, isn’t that kinder?”

Cole nodded his head, blinking rapidly to ward off tears. “Yes, you’re right, of course. Somehow though, even if he had another five years, I suspect it would be too soon.”

Thea stretched up to kiss him but wary of his promise to her father,
he looked over to Copley, who had turned his back and was looking out over the grounds.

Cole seized the moment and pulled Thea into a tight embrace, drawing what comfort he could from her to give him strength for the ordeal that was to come.

“If you need me, come and find me,” she said. “If not, I’ll see you at dinner.”

“Thank you.” He kissed the top of her head, then stepped out of the embrace. “I’ll see you later, my dear. Sir.” He nodded to Copley, who turned and nodded in response.

***

Thea stood where she was, watching the door long after Cole had left, and Lord Copley approached her.

“Are you all right?” he asked, placing a hand on her shoulder.

She turned to look up at him and he was surprised to see her eyes swimming with tears.

“I can't imagine what he’s going through, to lose both his parents so young. If I...” She swallowed as her tears spilled over. “I’m sorry for the things I said earlier, Papa. Sometimes I take you and Mama for granted and I shouldn’t. You are both so important to me and…”

“Hush.” He pulled her into a hug. “Your mother and I will be around for a long time to come, never you fear.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

Suddenly she looked up at him, her expression shocked.

“Thea?”

“I just realised, I’m going to have to leave home, aren’t I? Live here, with Cole
, but without you and Mama, Caroline, Joan and Kathryn. I’ll even miss Francis!” She sounded appalled at the idea of missing her brother. Oh, I didn’t think this through, did I? What have I done!”

He couldn’t help being a little pleased by her cold feet, at least he knew that she understood the implications of marriage, at least a little. For her not to have
thought through every aspect of her choice however, spoke to the depth of her feeling, he felt.

“It’s not too late to call it off,” he teased.

“That’s not helpful, Papa!”

“I’m sorry, dearest.” He didn’t look
in the slightest bit sorry. “This is one of the reasons I wanted you to be cautious, to give yourself time to realise the changes marriage brings, and come to terms with them.”

“Can't we just
live with you? The Dower house is huge.”

“I would not object, but Cole will be master of this estate, and rather soon,
it seems. But you will surely be in London for part of the season, as will we; you do have three sisters who need husbands, after all, and I’m sure that we will be frequent guests at each other’s homes. We’ll probably end up seeing more of each other than we do now.”

She smiled. “Thank you.”

“What for?”

“For putting up with me, for not disowning me, for wanting what’s best for me, for loving me, although I’m not the easiest person to get along with. It’s not that I try to be contrary, if I could behave like every other young lady, my life would be a good deal easier. And yours.”

“And a lot more prosaic.” He smiled. “You know that of all your siblings, you take after your mother most of all. Crossing paths with your mother was the biggest blessing in my life, so to have a daughter like her, feels like another blessing, not a curse.”

“Thank you anyway. When I see some other fathers out there, I realise how lucky I am to have you. Actual
ly, most people couldn’t hold a candle to you or Mama, not just those who are parents.”

“I do hope Cole is an exception?”

“Yes,” she laughed. “I hope so too.”

***

“You simply must tell us how you did it!” Flora Small declared, taking Thea’s hand as she entered the parlour.

“Yes,” Mrs Small agreed, also approaching. “I simply cannot fathom how it was accomplished.”