Death by the Book (19 page)

“The chief inspector and his men are going to find the man. It’s going to be all right.”

Drew gave her shoulders a squeeze and then showed Birdsong over to Aunt Ruth.

“Miss Jansen, this is Chief Inspector Birdsong. Inspector, Madeline’s aunt from America.”

“Good evening, madam.” The chief inspector belatedly removed his hat. “I should like to question you about the incident this evening at the cottage.”

Aunt Ruth did not offer him her hand. “I see. The chief inspector, eh? I assume you’re the highest ranking policeman they could get this time of night.”

“I’ll try to inconvenience you as little as possible, madam.”

“Well, sit down. Sit down.” Aunt Ruth fluttered one hand over a nearby chair. “You won’t find any of your class snobbery with us Americans.”

With a glance at Drew, Birdsong complied. “Now, I can appreciate that this matter has upset you, madam, but if I may—”

“Pshaw. He wasn’t but a weedy little fellow. Arms and legs like sticks.”

“So he was thin?” Again Birdsong glanced at Drew. “Fits with the caddy at the golf course well enough, and the chap with the flowers. Anything else you remember about him, madam?”

Aunt Ruth continued, “He was all in black. He was tall, I think. Of course I couldn’t see much in the darkness.”

Birdsong jotted this down. “Did he say anything?”

“No. He came out the front door of the cottage, looking around like he wanted to make sure no one saw him.”

“So he didn’t see you right away?”

“I don’t think so. He had his head down, sort of peeking around the corner, edging toward the trees. Then he saw me and tried to run for it. He stumbled on the steps or I would never have gotten close to him.”

“I see, and he said nothing that whole time you were struggling with him? Not a grunt or a groan that might tell you something about his voice?”

Aunt Ruth shook her head. “As I already said, he didn’t make a sound. He just got loose and ran off.”

“Was that before or after Mr. Farthering arrived?”

“After, but just a few seconds after.”

“And once he’d gone?”

“Mr. Farthering helped me up and took me to the cottage door.”

“He didn’t go inside with you?”

“No. The killer had thrown my cane into the bushes, and this young man went to find it for me. That was when I went into the kitchen and found the body.” There was a little tremor in her lips and in her voice. “I . . . I made it back to the front door, and then he took me back to the house.”

“Had you invited Mr. Bell to visit you at the cottage?”

“Absolutely not.”

“What about you, miss?” Birdsong asked, turning to Madeline.

“No. I hadn’t spoken to him since the day we had lunch with Mr. Llewellyn at the Queen Bess, and that was a while ago.”

“You didn’t go down to the cottage at all since you left to come up to the house for dinner?”

Madeline shook her head. “No, Inspector, I didn’t.”

The chief inspector paused, then looked back at Aunt Ruth. “I assume you didn’t, either?”

“I did not.”

“Did either of you tell anyone you’d be coming to dinner here tonight?”

“No,” Madeline said, “but we always do. I assume everyone in Farthering St. John knows it by now.”

Birdsong made a few more notes. “Miss Jansen, is there anything else you’d like to include in your statement?”

“Just that there is no excuse for your department to let something like this go on. I thought this was a civilized country. May as well have Capone’s thugs running things. You write that down.”

“I assure you, madam, every effort is being made to—”

“Obviously, it’s not enough.” Aunt Ruth looked at Drew, her lip curled. “And what kind of police department depends on amateurs to solve their cases for them? Don’t you have enough men of your own? Or are they too busy sitting in public houses drinking all night?”

Drew gave the chief inspector a commiserating glance and then turned to Aunt Ruth. “I like to do what I can to help, naturally, ma’am, but as you say, I’m only an amateur. I have
no doubt our chief inspector here has things well in hand. He’ll have our killer run to ground in good time.”

There was a determined pleasantness in Birdsong’s mouth. “Anything else I should know, madam? About this evening’s incident, I mean.”

She shook her head. “Nothing but that I wish I’d given him a few more good whacks with my cane. I’m just sorry I can’t tell you anything else.”

“We appreciate your cooperation, madam,” Birdsong said with a straight face. “If you should remember anything else about the incident, do let us know at once. Anything you’d like to add, Mr. Farthering?”

“I can’t think of anything. Unfortunately, I didn’t see much.”

“Then I’ll be on my way. We will keep you informed should there be any developments in the case.” Birdsong replaced his hat. “Good evening, ladies. Gentlemen.”

Once he had left, Madeline came to Drew’s side and put her arm through his. “Thank you for letting us stay here in the house. We’ll both feel much safer.”

“It’s the only sensible thing to do.” He slipped his arm around her waist. “And I’ll feel much better with you both here, as well.”

“Don’t think that will make it easier for any shenanigans you may have in mind.” Aunt Ruth gave him a cool glare. “Madeline and I are sharing a room.”

Drew took the older woman’s hand and made a formal bow over it. “A most excellent idea, ma’am. It puts my mind totally at ease.”

Evidently she could find no fault in what he said and so had to content herself with a disapproving sniff.

“Besides,” he continued, “the police will want to keep everything just as it is down at the cottage until they’ve finished collecting evidence.”

“Oh, poor Freddie. It’s too terrible.” Madeline shuddered, and he took her into his arms again.

“I know, darling, I know. We’ll find the murderer, whoever he is. Don’t you worry.”

“How can I not worry?” Her periwinkle eyes flashed. “This murderer’s getting closer and closer all the time.”

“We’ll find him. I swear to you, we will. Now, you take your aunt upstairs. She’s been knocked about rather badly and ought to get some rest. You too.”

Aunt Ruth stood up. “First sensible idea you’ve had since I’ve been here. Come, Madeline.”

Madeline looked at Drew, uncertainty in her eyes, but he only turned her toward the door.

“Go along, darling. It’s late. Everything will look better come morning.” He kissed her forehead. “Sleep well, both of you.”

“Good night, ladies,” Nick called, and soon he and Drew were alone.

They stood for some minutes in thoughtful silence, and then Drew dropped into a wing chair. “It gets more confusing every day.”

“Did you hear what she said?” Nick leaned against the mantelpiece. “Think about it. It started in Winchester, that’s not five miles from here. Then the golf course, less than two miles away. Clarice’s cottage is only down the road in the village, and this tonight was on your own grounds. Good heavens, how can you not see it?”

“You’re not saying it’s someone here at Farthering Place?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Nick blew out his breath and raked his fingers through his sandy hair. “I’m not saying it’s not, though I can’t imagine anyone on the place being a murderer. But think
about it.
Your
solicitor, then someone at
your
golf club, then a girl who’s seeing one of
your
friends, then someone at
your
own cottage.”

Drew laughed half under his breath. “You’re not serious. You think someone is after me?”

“I’m not saying I know for certain, but what else makes sense?”

“But whatever for? And why not come straight for me without all the preliminaries?”

“Sort of a game, I suppose. ‘Catch me if you can’?”

“But why me?”

“Perhaps whoever it is didn’t like you putting Rushford behind bars.”

“Nonsense. For one thing, I didn’t do all that much. The police would have sorted him out in time, I expect. Besides, he hasn’t any family. He hasn’t money anymore to pay to have me seen to.”

“What about Clarke? The police don’t even know who he really was or much of anything about him. Who knows whom he may have left behind him? A grieving wife? A vengeful father or brother?”

“I didn’t kill him or have him put away. I didn’t even know he was in on it until he was already dead. If our killer’s tied up with Clarke, he should be hounding Rushford, not me. I don’t know that they allow that sort of thing at Dartmoor. Besides, the hangman will be ending any idea of revenge against our Mr. Rushford before much longer.”

“Regardless, I wish you’d carry the Webley with you until this is all over.”

“So do I.”

Drew and Nick both turned at the soft voice behind them.

Drew smiled. “Madeline, darling, I didn’t know you were there.”

Her face was pale with that tinge of pink that meant she’d been crying. Drew went to her.

“What is it? Is your aunt all right?”

Madeline nodded. “She’s running her bath.”

“Come and sit down.”

He led her to the sofa that faced the parlor fire and sat her down beside him. Immediately she curled up against him, her face pressed against his neck with one hand clasped in his lapel.

He nuzzled her sweet-smelling hair and made his voice low and soothing. “Everything will be all right.”

At a look from Drew, Nick quietly vanished, closing the door behind him, leaving the couple alone in the quiet.

After a few moments, Madeline sat up. “I’m sorry, Drew.” She helped herself to the handkerchief in his breast pocket and then smoothed her hair. “I know I shouldn’t let all this get to me.”

“Perfectly understandable, although you have nothing to fear. We
are
going to find him. Or them. Whoever is behind this, he can’t go on much longer. Not with everyone after him.” He paused and looked her in the eyes. “Not with me after him.”

Madeline smiled. “I don’t know what I was thinking. He doesn’t have a chance, does he?”

“Of course not.” He cuddled her close again. “And after I catch him, then Aunt Ruth will have to attest to my cleverness, and the chief inspector will have to admit that his department is helpless without me. And
you
, my darling, will have no choice but to fall even more hopelessly in love with me and beg me to marry you.”

She laughed softly, and he felt some of the tenseness melt out of her. “Maybe I just will.”

“There. You see? And we all live happily ever after.”

“Not Freddie.” She pressed more tightly against him. “Poor Freddie. Who would want to kill him? He doesn’t even know anybody in the whole country.”

“Right, and yet we still don’t know who invited him to our dinner party the day Clarice Deschner was killed.”

“You don’t suppose that had anything to do with the murders, do you?”

“I don’t know why our killer would have wanted him here that night. Clarice had been dead hours before the party.”

“Maybe the invitation had to do with his own death, not hers.” Madeline thought for a moment. “And you’re sure none of your friends invited him? As a prank?”

“No one’s owned up to it, at any rate. I suppose I could ask Bunny if he’s heard any tattle about it. And I’ll ring up Mrs. Burrish at the Queen Bess and see if she remembers anything about the person who left the message for Bell. Might be a clue there.”

“I still don’t understand why the killer would have wanted him at the party that night. Was the plan to kill him then and not now?”

Drew nodded. “And then there’s the question of his room key. How did that get in your handbag without you knowing it?”

“You don’t think I was lying about that, do you?”

“No, not at all. But someone wanted me to. Someone has been trying to put us at odds for some time now. Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed it, too?”

She bit her lip. “I . . . Oh, Drew, I just don’t know. Why would anyone do such a thing?”

“You know why. I’m sorry, darling, and I don’t want to be unpleasant, but you do know why. And you know who.”

“You think it’s Aunt Ruth trying to break us up.”

“It’s the only thing that makes sense. She wants you to go back to America. She’s never liked me, obviously. She thinks I’m a menace to society in general and to you in particular. Perhaps she thought Bell would be enough to lure you away from me. At the very least she could make it look as though you were seeing him and lying to cover it up.”

“And now he’s dead.”

She blinked rapidly, but not before he was aware of the tears in her eyes.

“You liked him, didn’t you?”

“Yes. Yes, I did. I wasn’t interested in him, you know that, but he was a nice man. He didn’t deserve to die like that. None of these people deserved to die the way they did. They hadn’t hurt anybody. But Freddie, he was just in the wrong place at the very worst time.”

“I don’t think he was at the cottage tonight by accident. He had seemed rather keen to know what was going on. With the key and the invitation and all. I wonder what all he found out. And who he talked to. No, tonight was no accidental encounter. Whoever murdered him lured him there. They drank tea together. The murderer knew you and your aunt were going to be out. It was well planned.”

“But why?” She gnawed her lip. “Why would anyone want to kill him?”

“Don’t forget the note. Clearly his inquiries into some of the recent goings-on were not met with approval.”

“But if you think Aunt Ruth was the one who left his key in my bag or who invited him to the party . . .” Her eyes widened. “You can’t possibly think she’s involved in all this.”

Drew couldn’t suppress a laugh. “No! Good heavens, no.”

“And if she was the one behind things with Freddie, who else would have had a reason to kill him?”

“Well, if she wasn’t behind them, who else would be?”

Madeline dredged up a bit of a smile. “That Daphne Pomphrey-Hughes wouldn’t mind much if you were available.”

“Perhaps not, but actually implementing this sort of campaign is far above little Daphne’s abilities. You may trust me absolutely on that. Besides, there may be someone who has his eye on you, you know.”