03 - Murder at Sedgwick Court (29 page)

‘You
think she killed Miss Montacute? Or should I say the woman claiming to be Miss
Montacute?’

‘I do.
The woman was more than likely her accomplice in crime. They no doubt had a
falling out over the spoils. Those types always do.’      

‘Mr
Montacute is coming here expecting to see his daughter and her companion,’ Sergeant
Lane reminded the inspector.

‘So he
is. We’ll have to head him off. And whatever happens don’t let anyone tell him
about the murder. The last thing we want is for someone to tell him his
daughter’s dead.’

‘Sergeant
Lane. What are you doing here? It’s awfully early in the morning for you to
start your interviews, isn’t it?’ said Rose, encountering the sergeant outside
Jemima’s room, which was opposite both her own and Lavinia’s.

‘Sorry to
wake you, miss.’ Rose noticed that the policeman was looking a little awkward,
as if he did not wish to advertise his presence outside Jemima’s room. Either
that or he was embarrassed at catching sight of her in her night attire, she
decided.

‘What is happening,
Sergeant?’

Sergeant
Lane looked anxiously at Jemima’s closed door before moving forward a pace or
two. He then proceeded to speak in a whisper.

‘You were
right, miss. Jemima Wentmore is not Jemima Wentmore. And Mr Montacute is due to
arrive any minute now.’

‘Mr
Montacute,’ said Rose rather loudly, ‘is due to arrive any minute now?’

‘Ssh!
Keep your voice down please, miss. You’ll wake the young lady pretending to be
Miss Wentmore. The inspector is afraid she’ll try and make a run for it if she
knows Montacute is on his way. He’ll be able to unmask her for the impostor
that she is, you see.’

They
heard the sound of bolts being pulled back and a key being turned in a lock. A
moment later, Jemima’s bedroom door was flung open and the girl herself
appeared. Her face was white and her insipid hair was flowing. This, coupled
with her wearing a nightdress in a muted shade, gave her an almost ghostly
appearance.

‘Mr
Montacute is coming here? Now?’ She demanded urgently.

‘Yes,’
said Rose firmly, conscious out of the corner of her eye that the sergeant was
glaring at her.

Jemima
immediately closed the door and slid back the bolts.

‘Now
you’ve gone and done it, miss, and no mistake. She’ll be climbing out of her
window unless we stop her.’

Rose
retreated into her own room as the sergeant ran downstairs to make his way
outside. She kept her door ajar. As soon as the policeman was out of sight,
Rose ran to Jemima’s door and tapped on it rapidly.

‘Quickly!
Unbolt this door! They think you’re trying to escape out of your window.
They’ll be going to get ladders and all sorts. If you hurry, you can hide in my
room. They won’t think of looking for you there.’

After a
moment’s hesitation, the bolts were once again pulled back from the door, the
door unlocked and Jemima emerged fully dressed. Without a word she followed
Rose into her room.

‘You can
hide in the wardrobe, if you want to,’ said Rose.

‘Why are
you doing this? Why are you helping me?’

‘Because
you need a friend, and ... well … I know who you are.’

‘Do you?’
Jemima looked scared.

‘Don’t be
frightened. You can trust me. You could trust Sergeant Lane too, you know.’

‘No!’

‘All
right. As you like. They’ll be banging on my door in a minute to find out if
I’ve seen you. Quickly. Climb into the wardrobe or under the bed.’

But, before
Jemima could do anything of the sort, they heard a commotion in the hall below.

‘Is it …
?
’

‘I’ll go
and see. You wait here.’

Rose
opened her door as silently as she could and crept along the landing so that
she was in a positon to look over the bannisters to the hall below. An elderly
man in a well-cut suit was in deep discussion with the inspector who, even at this
distance, Rose could see was hot and flustered. It was obvious from the elderly
man’s raised voice and Inspector Bramwell’s agitated state that the men were
having a disagreement of some kind. Rose took the opportunity to creep back to
her room unobserved.

‘Come on,
quickly,’ she said to Jemima.

The girl
followed her out until they were at the top of the great staircase peering
down.

Everything
then seemed to happen very quickly and all at once. Sergeant Lane appeared in
the hall. At the same time, Inspector Bramwell happened to look up and caught
sight of Jemima cowering behind Rose.

‘There
she is! Quickly, get her Lane, before she escapes.’

‘No!’
cried Rose. ‘You don’t understand. She’s
–
’

‘Father!’
exclaimed Jemima.

The
elderly man looked up, his eyes squinting behind thick lenses.

‘Emmeline!’
he cried.

‘Perhaps,
Miss Simpson, you would be good enough to explain things to me,’ said Inspector
Bramwell, sighing. He looked exasperated and tired, his plump face red and
blotchy. 

It was
some half an hour later and Rose, having abandoned her night attire for a
sensible tweed ensemble, was sitting in the study, facing the inspector across
the huge polished desk. Besides the policemen, the only other occupant in the
room was Cedric, who was sitting beside her, his eyes never leaving her face. Mr
Montacute and his daughter had decamped to the library, where Emmeline was acquainting
her father with all that had occurred while he had been abroad.

‘Well, Inspector.
I think we should begin with the fact that the woman that we knew as Jemima
Wentmore is in fact Emmeline Montacute,’ said Rose.

‘And the
woman we knew as Emmeline Montacute was actually Jemima Wentmore,’ added
Cedric. ‘Miss Simpson worked it all out, Inspector.’

‘Yes,’
said Rose, ‘but not until last night, or the early hours of this morning, I
should say. I had my suspicions that Emmeline and Jemima were not who they professed
to be. But it didn’t occur to me until a short time ago that they might just have
swapped identities.’

‘And why
pray should they have done that,’ asked the inspector, frowning and scratching the
side of his head.  

‘To
explain why,’ said Rose, ‘I think we need to go back to the very beginning. I
think it all started long ago with the foiled kidnapping attempt. If you
remember, it was very nearly successful. I think Mr Montacute became almost obsessed
with the notion that another kidnap attempt would be made on his daughter. As a
consequence, he was overly protective towards her. He arranged for them to live
in a heavily fortified house in Scotland, with no near neighbours, from which
they rarely ventured out. And on the rare occasions that they did, Emmeline was
always accompanied by a host of servants or by Mr Montacute himself. Afraid
that his daughter would become lonely or bored, Mr Montacute invited a poor
relation of a similar age to Emmeline to live with them and be her paid companion.
He also organised a number of parties and balls at their residence, but I
imagine that the only guests invited were ones that had been closely
scrutinised by Mr Montacute himself.’       

‘A pretty
dull existence for a young girl, I’d have thought.’ said Cedric. ‘It would
never have done for someone like my sister.’

‘But I’m
not sure Emmeline found it dull,’ said Rose. ‘After all, it was all she had ever
known. But I do think Jemima found it dreary.’

‘So am I
right in thinking that when Montacute decides to go on his travels, the two
women decide to do likewise?’ said the inspector, sitting back heavily in his
chair.

‘Yes. They
seized the opportunity. Or should I say Jemima did. She managed to persuade
Emmeline, who was rather nervous and somewhat reluctant. If you remember, the
fear of being kidnapped had been instilled in her from an early age. No doubt
at first she refused even to contemplate it no matter how tempted she might
have been. That, I think, is when Jemima came up with the suggestion that they
swap identities for the duration of their travels. It made Emmeline feel that
she was not taking so great a risk.’

‘But how
did you know that was what they’d done?’ asked Sergeant Lane. ‘From what I can
gather, they both looked and acted their parts very well.’

‘A little
too well,’ said Rose. ‘I always thought Emmeline, pretending to be Jemima,
looked a little too dowdy and plain. I would imagine the real Jemima would have
been given a handsome dress allowance. And Jemima, pretending to be Emmeline,
played her part overly enthusiastically.  And a chance remark Miss Brewster
made remained with me: “… look how much she is enjoying all the attention …
You’d think she’d be used to it by now, wouldn’t you? Instead she behaves like
a child let loose in a sweetshop.”
And that was just how the girl we
knew as Emmeline behaved for the very good reason that she was not used to all
the attention she was receiving as an heiress, and was making the most of it
while she had the opportunity to do so.’

‘It
explains also,’ said Cedric, ‘why the real Emmeline did not discourage Jemima’s
relationship with Theo Harrison. The doctor would have made an ideal husband
for her companion.’

‘And it
would also explain the magazine article about Miss Montacute being an
accomplished rider, I suppose,’ admitted the inspector.

‘Yes.
There were a number of other things as well,’ said Rose. ‘The real Jemima was
always seeking Emmeline’s approval, which seemed rather strange to us all at
the time. Once or twice both girls also almost slipped up when referring to Mr
Montacute. The real Emmeline of course went to refer to him as father instead
of Mr Montacute, and the real Jemima as Mr Montacute instead of father. They
both corrected themselves just in time.’

‘And the
diamond necklace?’ asked the inspector. ‘What about that?’

‘It was
only ever a paste replica,’ said Rose. ‘Jemima wanted to take the real one on
their travels but Emmeline, being by nature more cautious, decided to take the
fake necklace instead.’

‘Do I
take it that she omitted to tell Jemima?’ asked Cedric.

‘Yes, I
think she thought Jemima wouldn’t notice and so there was no reason to tell her
and spoil her enjoyment in wearing the necklace,’ said Rose. ‘I don’t for one
moment think she ever imagined that the necklace would be looked at through a
jeweller’s loupe.’

‘But what
I don’t understand,’ said the inspector, ‘is why Miss Montacute did not reveal
her true identity to us after the murder.’

‘I think
I can answer that, Inspector,’ said Rose, smiling. ‘I’m afraid she was
suspicious of you.’

‘What?’
thundered Inspector Bramwell. He sat forward in his chair and grabbed the desk.
‘Why should the girl not trust me?’

‘You must
remember, Inspector, that Miss Montacute has always had a fear of being
kidnapped. As soon as she was informed that Jemima was missing, that is what
she thought had happened to her. When we discovered that Jemima had been
murdered, Emmeline did not know quite what to think. Undoubtedly a part of her
hoped that it was as it first appeared to be: Lavinia had killed Jemima. But
then we discovered that Jemima had been dead for some hours. So a failed
kidnapping attempt was still a real possibility. And rumour had it that some
very prominent people, including policemen, Inspector, had been involved in the
previous kidnap attempt, although of course nothing was ever proved.’

‘You mean
to tell me that she thought I was involved in the kidnap and death of Miss Wentmore?’
exclaimed the inspector, his eyes watering.

‘She
thought it a possibility, yes. After Jemima’s body was found she was very
frightened and did not know whom to trust. She had heard that I had some
experience of murder investigations and saw me greeting Sergeant Lane. It was
obvious to her that we were already acquainted and that this was a policeman
she might be able to trust. She was just beginning to consider confiding her true
identity to the police when I informed her of something that was to her very
worrying.’

‘And what
was that?’ demanded the inspector.

‘I informed
her that I did not know you. That I had never met you before. What was more, I
told her that Inspector Deacon had been wounded and that you had been brought in
to replace him.’

‘Are you
saying that Miss Montacute thought Inspector Deacon being shot was in some way
connected with Miss Wentmore’s murder?’ asked Sergeant Lane looking incredulous.

‘Yes … well,
that is to say, I think she thought it was a possibility.’ 

 There
was rather an awkward silence that saw the inspector huffing and puffing irritably
in his chair.

‘Well,’ Inspector
Bramwell said at last. ‘This is all well and good, and no doubt Miss Montacute
will corroborate your version of events and offer a few embellishments of her
own. But it does not address the fact that we are no nearer knowing the
identity of the murderer.’

‘Oh, but
we are!’ cried Rose. ‘Don’t you see, Inspector? Once we had established the
women’s true identities, everything else fell into place.’

‘No, I
definitely don’t see,’ grumbled Inspector Bramwell. ‘Out with it, Miss Simpson.
Who do you think is the murderer?’

‘Why,
Felix Thistlewaite, of course.’     

There was
a stunned silence as the others took in the news.

‘Thistlewaite?’
said Cedric at last. ‘Are you sure about that, Rose, really? The chap seems
such a good egg.’

‘I’m
afraid I am.’

The inspector
glared. ‘Well, I for one am far from convinced. Perhaps you will give me your
reasons for believing that young Thistlewaite is our murderer.’

‘Well, Inspector.
I think I shall start at the beginning as I did before.’

‘Please
do.’

‘I
suppose it all began on the Continent before they all came to Sedgwick. Inspector,
you have been looking for a jewel thief. The most likely person seemed to be Count
Fernand, who was rather too obviously not a count. You even wondered if it
might be Emmeline, when she was pretending to be Jemima. I think, however, that
a successful jewel thief had to be less conspicuous.’

‘Just
like Thistlewaite, in fact?’ said Cedric.

‘Yes. An
affable young man on a European tour funded by a rich great aunt. He did not pretend
to be wealthy or titled. Instead he went out of his way to inform anyone who
would listen that he was about to start employment as an articled clerk in a London
legal establishment as soon as he returned from his travels.’

‘But that
wasn’t true?’ enquired Sergeant Lane.  

‘No, it
was all a lie, including the bit about the rich great aunt. It just provided
him with a reason for being on the Continent and staying at an expensive
hotel.’

‘How do
you know all this, Miss Simpson?’ asked Inspector Bramwell. ‘Is it all
conjecture?’

‘Well,
for one thing he forgot the name of his rich great aunt. He called her both
Maud and Mabel. If she had really existed and funded his travels, then surely he’d
have remembered her name, wouldn’t he?’

‘One
would have thought so. But I do hope that you have more than that on which to
base your accusation, Miss Simpson.’ The inspector frowned.

‘Indeed,
I have, Inspector. But I digress. To return to the Continent. Felix
Thistlewaite was no doubt intending to ingratiate himself with either Lady
Lavinia or Emmeline Montacute. But, much to his annoyance, he finds that role
has been taken by Count Fernand, of whom he is highly suspicious. He settles
instead for whom he believes is Jemima Wentmore, but whom we now know is the
real Emmeline Montacute. From his perspective, it does not matter so very much which
woman he chooses. He only requires an opportunity to discover what jewels the
women have brought with them and which are the easiest to steal.’

‘But he
didn’t steal any of their jewels on the Continent.’ pointed out Cedric.

‘No, he
didn’t. Quite why, I’m not sure. Perhaps he didn’t have an opportunity to do so,
or perhaps he thought he’d do better waiting until he came to Sedgwick. I
suppose Lavinia has many valuable jewels here?’

‘Oh, a
lot,’ agreed Cedric.

‘At
Sedgwick, Felix’s plans go astray. After dinner one evening, as we all know,
Vera makes a scene alluding to the failed kidnap attempt, which results in the count
introducing his game of looking at the women’s jewels through a jeweller’s
lens.’

‘Felix
must have been delighted,’ said Cedric. ‘It gave him the ideal opportunity to
examine both Emmeline’s and Lavinia’s jewels. We all had a turn with the lens,
if you remember?’

‘I do.
And Felix must have been thrilled as you say, until he discovered that
Emmeline’s necklace was in fact a paste replica. I think at first he assumed
that Jemima, who he believed to be Emmeline, would produce the real necklace at
the end of the evening and laugh about them all being taken in by her fake
necklace. But as we know she didn’t, because she believed it to be genuine.’    

‘So he
decided instead to concentrate his efforts on acquiring Lady Lavinia’s jewels?’
said Inspector Bramwell. He turned to address Cedric. ‘I take it your sister’s
jewels are genuine, my lord?’

‘Yes, of
course.’

‘But,’
said Rose, ‘Lavinia had mentioned that evening that you insisted her jewels be
kept locked up in your personal safe whenever she was not wearing them.’

‘Did she?
I’m afraid I don’t recall.’

‘She did.
So you see, Felix Thistlewaite was suddenly faced with the very real
possibility that he would not have an opportunity to steal any jewels while at
Sedgwick. All his meticulous planning had come to nothing.’

‘So what
happened next?’ asked Sergeant Lane.

‘Well,
the next evening there was talk of the maze which, as we know prompted Vera to
entice Jemima, pretending to be Emmeline, to meet her there in the early hours
of the following morning. It was still dark when Jemima set off for the maze.
But Vera mentioned there was a full moon. If we believe that Vera did not
murder Jemima, someone must have followed Jemima to the maze. Unless it was
Emmeline, who might have heard Jemima leave her room, hers being next door,
then that person must have been looking out of their window at the time and
seen her set off.’