Sick of Shadows (17 page)

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Authors: M. C. Beaton

Tags: #Mystery & Detective, #Fiction, #Crime, #Historical

BOOK: Sick of Shadows
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“Look!” hissed Rose when the hymn finished. Jeremy Tremaine was walking down to a lectern under the pulpit.

Jeremy began reading from the Revelation of Saint John the Divine.

“And he that sat was to look upon like a jasper and a sardine stone: and there was a rainbow round about the throne, in sight like unto an emerald.”

“What’s a sardine stone?” asked Daisy.

“Shhh!”

Jeremy’s voice droned soporifically on. “And I looked, and behold a pale horse: and his name that sat upon him was Death.”

He cast his eyes up piously and then they suddenly sharpened and focused directly on Rose and Daisy. He slammed the Bible shut and strode off down the aisle. His father looked down in surprise at his son’s retreating figure and then looked at the gallery. When he saw them, for a brief moment his face was a mask of fury.

Then the next hymn began.

The lady’s maid, Turner, waited to be summoned by Rose. When no summons came, she went to Rose’s bedchamber. Finding it empty, she checked the sitting-room and then Daisy’s room.

Turner became very worried. Only the other day, Lady Polly had threatened her with dismissal if she tried to cover up what Rose was doing.

She went down to the breakfast room. “My lady,” she said, “Lady Rose is not in her rooms. Neither is Miss Levine.”

The earl and countess stared at her in alarm.

Brum gave a discreet cough. “The coachman was saying this morning that the ladder that was left in the garden was now in the lane by the mews. Also there are footprints of ladies’ boots in the mud in the mews.”

“Damn the girl!” roared the earl. “Get Cathcart!”

As they both walked down from the gallery, Rose said, “This, I feel, is a dangerous mistake. I think we should leave.”

“Me, too,” said Daisy, heaving a sigh of relief.

They had to wait in line. The parishioners were shaking hands with the rector at the church door.

When it came their turn, Rose put out her hand and said, “We were in the neighbourhood and thought we would visit your charming church.”

She held out her hand, determined to give his a brief shake and move out to the waiting carriage as quickly as possible. But he held her hand in a firm grip. “You must stay and take some refreshment. Ah, here is my wife. Mrs. Tremaine, do take the ladies indoors.”

“I am afraid we really must go,” said Rose, trying to extricate her hand. “Our carriage is waiting.”

He turned round. “I do not see any carriage.”

Rose stared across in dismay. “I told him to wait. No matter. It is a fine day for a walk. Come, Daisy.”

“Now, you cannot walk,” said Mrs. Tremaine. “Do but step inside the rectory and our carriage will take you.”

She looked her normal friendly self. I’m imagining things, thought Rose.

“Very well. Just for a few moments. Most kind of you.”

Harry was telling Kerridge about the murder of Will Hubbard. “That’s too much of a coincidence,” said Kerridge. “We’ll go down there and sweat it out of those servants after we arrest the Tremaines. If they see the master arrested, then I think they might talk.”

Judd entered and said lugubriously. “Lord Hadfield has just called. He wishes Captain Cathcart to attend him immediately.”

“I am busy at the moment. Is all well with Lady Rose?”

“He says his daughter has disappeared. The staff believe she left during the night by climbing over the garden wall.”

“Now what?” Harry looked at Kerridge in dismay. “Where would she go?”

“I hope it’s anywhere but Apton Magna.”

“Oh dear. I have an awful feeling that’s just where she would go. She wanted to come here this morning and I wouldn’t let her. Lady Rose, being as stubborn as a mule, has probably decided to investigate the Tremaines for herself.” He turned to Judd. “Tell Lord Hadfield I am sure I know where his daughter has gone. I am going to collect her. Kerridge, we’ll take my car. It’s faster.”

“I’ll phone the Oxford police to get out there.”

“No,” said Harry. “If the Tremaines are guilty, something might happen to them if the police go crashing in first. We’ll call on them in Oxford and get them to follow us.”

“How kind of you to visit us again,” twittered Mrs. Tremaine over the teacups. “Such an honour.”

The rector and his son said nothing.

“Most kind of you,” said Rose, “but we really must leave.”

“Our carriage will be here shortly. Have another cake.”

Daisy’s green eyes were wide and frightened. Why did I come here? thought Rose desperately. No one knows we are here. But what can they do? I am not now going to ask Jeremy about his prison visits.

The rector spoke at last. “Who were you visiting in the neighbourhood?”

“We weren’t really visiting anyone,” said Rose. “The countryside here is so pretty, and after London, we felt in the need of fresh air.”

“I am surprised,” said Mrs. Tremaine, “that a great lady such as yourself should travel into the country in a hired cab with only your companion.”

“I do like a little freedom sometimes. Now we really must go. If the carriage is not ready, we will walk.” She got to her feet. “Come, Daisy.”

“Just another moment or two,” said Mrs. Tremaine. “I am still mourning my poor daughter. Why, only the other day, I found a number of Dolly’s things in one of the attics. It turns out the poor girl kept a diary.”

Rose decided this was too good a chance to miss. “Perhaps I may see her diary?”

“By all means. Follow me.”

“You wait there, Daisy,” said Rose.

“I’m coming with you.”

Mrs. Tremaine led the way to the top of the house. She opened a low door and stood inside. “Go ahead. You will find her things in here.”

Rose and Daisy walked into the room. As the door slammed behind them and the key turned in the lock, Rose realized they had been tricked.

They hammered on the door and screamed and shouted. Surely one of the servants would hear them. But they had not seen any servants. Mrs. Tremaine had made and served tea herself.

“Jeremy!” said Rose. “He must have run out of the church and dismissed the servants for the day. Then he must have told his mother what he planned. I don’t think she was in church when we arrived. She must have turned up towards the end of the service.”

“The window’s barred,” said Daisy. “We’ve got to get out of here.”

They sat in silence and then Rose whispered, “Listen. I can hear voices. It’s coming from the fireplace.”

They both crouched down beside the tiny fireplace. They could hear the voices of the Tremaine family. Jeremy was saying, “We must make sure they came on their own. I am sure her family doesn’t know she is here.”

Then Mrs. Tremaine: “I will take the pony and trap and go to the public phone-box in Moreton and phone the earl’s household. I will say I am still distressed over Dolly’s death and must speak to Lady Rose.”

“You will just be told she is not at home.” The rector’s voice.

“I am a very good actress,” said his wife. “Leave it to me.”

The voices faded.

Rose and Daisy looked at each other in alarm. “Please God, Brum just says I am not at home without elaborating. They daren’t do anything to us if they think anyone knows we are here.”

Daisy’s voice choked on a sob. “I was so nasty to Becket. If I ever see him again, I’ll give him a great big kiss.”

Mrs. Tremaine asked the telephone operator to connect her to the earl’s residence. Brum answered. “May I speak to Lady Rose?” asked Mrs. Tremaine in a quavering voice.

“I am afraid Lady Rose is not at home.”

“Oh dear,” wailed Mrs. Tremaine. “Lady Rose has been helping me get over my terrible grief. I-I d-don’t know what to do.”

The inveterate gossip in Brum rose to the surface. He lowered his voice. “Between you and me, madam, Lady Rose sneaked out this morning and nobody knows where she is. Always wilful, she is.”

“Oh, thank you. I will call again.”

“I hear a carriage coming back,” said Rose. They both crouched down by the fireplace again.

The chimney must lead straight down to the parlour, thought Rose, because she could clearly hear Mrs. Tremaine say, “The butler said she sneaked out this morning and nobody knows where she is.”

“Good,” came Jeremy’s voice. “We’d better wait until dark.”

Rose looked wildly round the attic room. “We’ve got to get out of here. They must be really mad. If anything happened to us, the captain would think immediately of Apton Magna and check all the cabbies at the station.”

Daisy went over and put her eye to the keyhole. “They’ve left the key on the other side. Maybe I can poke it out. We need a piece of paper or cardboard to slide under the door.”

“There’s that old trunk over there. I’ll lift the lid and see if we can find anything useful.” She threw back the lid. “School-books. Just the thing.” She tore the cardboard cover off one of the books and gave it to Daisy.

Daisy slipped the cardboard under the door and then took a hat-pin out of her hat and poked at the lock. “It’s no good,” she said at last, sitting back on her heels. “I need a straight piece of metal. I know, me stays.”

Daisy took off her coat and frock and Rose helped her out of her corset. Then Rose took a little pair of scissors out of her reticule and they unpicked stitches and slid out one of the steels. Daisy put her corset and frock and coat back on again and set to work on the lock. An hour passed while Rose fretted, until Daisy said, “Got it!”

She drew the cardboard from under the door with the key on it.

“Quietly now,” said Rose. “Let’s take our boots off.”

They slipped off their boots. Daisy gently unlocked the door and then locked it again behind them.

Holding their boots, they crept down the stairs. The house was silent. “Back door,” murmured Daisy.

They walked softly down to the basement, opened the back door and let themselves out into the garden. They put their boots on and went out through the garden gate and began to run across the fields.

Rose finally stopped running. “We’d better circle round to the main road or we’ll be lost.”

“There’s a farmhouse over there,” said Daisy. “Let’s go there and get someone to get the police.”

“I don’t trust anyone,” said Rose. “The farmer is probably a tenant of the Tremaines and would tell them first. If we bear left, we should meet the road to Moreton.”

They trudged on, always looking fearfully to the left and right.

At last they reached the road. “Now I feel free,” said Rose as they both strode out in the direction of Moreton.

They rounded a bend in the road and Rose let out a scream of dismay. Jeremy and his father were just emerging from a copse.

They ran towards them. “Get the maid,” shouted the rector. “I’ll get the other.”

Daisy shrieked in fright as Jeremy reached for her, and kicked him as hard in the crotch as she could. He doubled up and fell on the road. Rose seized a hat-pin out of her hat and drove it into the rector’s arm. Undeterred, he threw his arms round her and began to drag her towards the trees. Daisy jumped on his back and clawed at his eyes.

The Rolls, speeding round the corner, nearly ran into them. Harry slammed on the brakes and leaped from the car. The rector released Rose and stood with his head hanging while Daisy slid off his back. She saw Becket climbing out of the back of the car and threw herself into his arms and kissed him full on the mouth.

A carload of police which had been following Harry’s car came to a stop. Father and son were cautioned and handcuffed.

Overcome with relief, Rose ran to Harry. “You silly girl,” he said furiously. “You could have been killed.”

Rose, who had been about to throw herself into his arms, backed off. Her face flamed. “You would never have found out it was them if it hadn’t been for me,” she raged. Then she burst into tears.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” said Harry. “I was so worried about you.”

He tried to take her in his arms, but she turned away.

Daisy moved forwards and put an arm around Rose. “Quietly, now, my dear,” she said. “It’s all over now.”

EPILOGUE

Once more, methought, I saw them stand
(’Twas but a dream I know),
That elegant and noble band
Of fifty years ago.
The men, frock-coated, tall and proud,
The women in a silken cloud,
While in the midst of them appeared
(A vision I still retain)
The Monarch sipping pink champagne,
And smiling through his beard.


JAMES LAVER

The Tremaine family were interviewed at Scotland Yard separately. Harry was given permission to sit in on the interviews.

All were claiming that they had been overset by Dolly’s death and outraged by Lady Rose’s visit, thinking she was prodding and prying and opening the fresh wounds of their grief.

During a break in the interviewing, Harry drew Kerridge aside. “I think you should point out to Jeremy that unless he owns up to murder, his mother and father will hang as well as himself.”

“I think he’s the toughest one of the three,” said Kerridge. “Oh, by the way. Berrow and Banks have been found.”

“Where? How?”

“About forty miles south of Glasgow. They were driving and their motor hit a bridge. Banks was thrown clear but hit a stone and was killed outright. The motor with Berrow went up in flames, so the state is spared two expensive trials. Banks had been stripped naked, probably by the locals. The police did a house-to-house search in the nearby village but found nothing. They probably buried the stuff somewhere and will dig it up later when they think the heat’s died down. Berrow must have taken the wheel after the village because the locals did say that it was Banks at the wheel when they drove through.”

“Good riddance,” said Harry. “Let’s try Jeremy again.”

As they entered the interview room, Harry was struck afresh by the difference in looks between Jeremy and his beautiful sister.

Jeremy looked at them with flat eyes, sitting hunched at a table. He had refused a lawyer, saying he was innocent.

“I do not think you understand the gravity of the situation, Mr. Tremaine,” began Kerridge. He sat down opposite Jeremy; Judd joined him and Harry sat in the corner of the room beside a policeman with a shorthand pad.

“I have done nothing wrong,” said Jeremy. “God is my witness.”

“Do you realize that because of your silence, you will all hang? Do you want to know that you sent your parents to a shameful death?”

“There is no proof.”

“Your servants are talking now. On the night Dolly was killed, they heard her screaming, ‘No! Don’t!’ We have the proof that you visited Reg Bolton in prison. He had money in his wallet. I am sure we can trace it to your bank. You killed the footman, Will Hubbard, or had Bolton do it for you. The police are interviewing everyone in Sweetwater Lane armed with photographs of you and of Bolton. But until there is actual proof that you yourself killed your sister, there will be enough circumstantial evidence to hang the lot of you.”

Jeremy buried his head in his hands.

Harry suddenly spoke from his corner. “Had she been your own sister, you would not have killed her. But she was not your real sister, was she? Out with it, man. Confession is good for the soul, and you will be double-damned if you let your parents hang.”

Jeremy began to sob. They waited patiently. At last he dried his eyes on his sleeve. “All right,” he said in a weary voice. “All right. I’ll tell you.

“It was Father’s fault to start with. He had a good parish in Oxfordshire. But he got one of our servant girls pregnant. He had the living from Lord Dyrecombe. The girl went to Lady Dyrecombe. My father said it was her word against his, but the girl was the daughter of one of the Dyrecombes’ respected tenants and they believed her. My father was told to look for another living. The bishop was angry with him and Apton Magna was all that was on offer. After the baby was born, the servant girl drowned herself and Lady Dyrecombe called on my father and said the least we could do was to bring the baby up as our own.

“My father had little to do with her until he noticed that she had become a great beauty. We all saw a way to restore our prestige and fortunes through Dolly. My father had received an inheritance and we decided to give Dolly a Season in London. She said she was in love with the blacksmith’s son, but we told her she owed us everything.”

He spoke in a dull, flat monotone. For a moment the only sound was the policeman’s pencil catching up on his shorthand notes.

Jeremy sighed and began to speak again.

“Then Lord Berrow asked leave to pay his addresses. We told her he would be calling in the morning and she was to accept. We had such hopes. Berrow had spoken to me. He said once he was married to Dolly and I had finished my studies at Oxford, he could get me a good living, maybe even in Mayfair. He also said he would speak to the archbishop and get my father somewhere better than Apton Magna. We were so full of hope. We were so happy.

“Then Dolly began to scream that she would not do it, that she was going to run away. She went to her room.

“My parents sent me to see her. She defied me. She dared to laugh in my face. Me! That cuckoo in our family nest, that
bastard
, dared to laugh at me. I was blind with rage. I went to my room and got a dagger, a Turkish one, that someone had given me.

“I went back to her room and held it on her. ‘You will do as you’re told,’ I said, ‘or I will kill you.’

“She laughed again. ‘You! You’re not a man like my Roger,’ she said. ‘You wouldn’t dare.’ ”

“That’s when I stabbed her. There was blood everywhere. My parents came rushing in.

“We knew we had to get her away from the house. At the ball we’d seen her slipping a note to Lady Rose, and we stole it. We knew she planned to meet Lady Rose at the Serpentine. We thought, let Lady Rose find the body. With luck they’ll think she did it.

“We’d had that Lady of Shalott costume made for her, because her engagement was to be announced at the fancy-dress party the following week. We cleaned her and dressed her in it. I got the carriage round from the mews, and we put her in it and took her down to the Serpentine and laid her out in that rowing-boat. My father said prayers over her. Somehow it eased the horror to see her lying there so calm and beautiful.

“In the morning, we gathered all the servants together. We told them Dolly had run away. One asked what all the commotion the previous night had been about. I told them if they said anything about it they would lose their jobs.”

“So why did you go after Lady Rose?” asked Kerridge.

“The newspapers implied she was holding something back. I was terrified. I went to see that villain, Bolton. When I visited him in prison, he told me he would do anything for money. I never thought at that time that I would have any use for him. But I needed him. The only gun we had was a lady’s purse gun. I gave that to him.

“Then the temporary footman, Will, started blackmailing us. He had been awake during the night and had seen us carry a body into the carriage. I knew he would bleed us dry, so I called on him and finished him. That is all. You may release my parents.”

“A charge of kidnapping and assault will be lodged against your father, but he will not hang. A statement will be typed for you to sign,” said Kerridge.

When Jeremy was led out, Kerridge mopped his brow. “Thank God that’s over. How is Lady Rose?”

“I have not had time to call on her.”

“Then it’s time you did. You don’t know much about the ladies, do you?”

“Why do you say that?”

“You should not have called her a silly girl.”

“I was upset, frightened for her.”

“Better go and make your peace.”

But when Harry called at the town house, he was told Lady Rose was “not at home.”

That evening, he said to Becket, “I have offended Lady Rose, and Kerridge accuses me of not knowing anything about the ladies. How can I make amends?”

“There is such a thing as feminine curiosity,” said Becket. “Lady Rose may be angry with you, but I am sure she would dearly like to know the outcome. May I suggest, sir, that you invite all of us involved in this case, even Phil and Miss Friendly and your secretary, to a luncheon party? You could hire a private room at Rules Restaurant.”

Rules Restaurant was in Covent Garden. King Edward favoured it and had ordered a special staircase to be built in the restaurant so that he could escort his lady friends upstairs without being seen by the other diners.

“I’ll do it,” said Harry. “It is perfectly conventional for me to entertain a lady in a public restaurant, so her parents should have no objection.”

Rose had suffered a blistering lecture and was told to stay in her rooms. She was not to leave the house. All her social engagements had been cancelled.

Harry knew that if he sent an invitation to his luncheon party, the earl would read it and might tear it up.

He decided to call in person.

The earl hummed and hawed about receiving him. Only the thought that Harry was after all still his daughter’s fiancé and that he had saved her life made him reluctantly allow the captain to be shown up to the drawing-room.

“Well, what do you want?” asked the earl when Harry was ushered in.

The earl once again surveyed Harry’s handsome and impeccably tailored figure. If only the wretched man hadn’t chosen such an odd profession.

“Sit down, Cathcart. What now?”

Harry told him of Jeremy’s confession. Then he said, “I know your daughter behaved dangerously, but it is thanks to her we caught him. But she certainly did not have my permission.”

“If she had not met you, Rose would never have got into these scrapes.”

“My lord, may I remind you that she was once about to be abused by a wastrel? That was none of my doing and you hired me to get her out of it. Nor was I responsible for her going to a suffragettes’ meeting. Lady Rose will always need me to protect her.”

The earl eyed him narrowly. “So when’s the wedding?”

“We will soon fix a date.”

“This engagement all seems fishy to me. Why are you here? To see Rose?”

“I am afraid your daughter is furious with me. I was so alarmed at her predicament and so frightened for her welfare that I called her a silly girl.”

“And so she was.”

“Lady Rose was very brave. I do not wish to be estranged from her. I am holding a private luncheon party in Rules for Lady Rose and some others. I hoped her curiosity about the outcome of the case would persuade her to accept the invitation. May I beg you to intercede on my behalf?”

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