Heirs and Graces (A Royal Spyness Mystery) (24 page)

“What for?” I asked.

“My hunch is that”—he felt around in the ivy— “. . . aha. See? I was right.” He lifted a brass ring and pushed open a door in the wall.

I peered inside a dark opening. “Do you think it leads somewhere?”

“Maybe not,” he said. “It could just be for storing deck chairs and the like, but I’ll wager it hasn’t been used for years.”

“Oh, my goodness,” I said. “The children said there were secret passages in the house and they were trying to find one, but they had never managed to. I thought it was just childish fantasy. You know—a house this size ought to have secret passages.”

“What’s the betting this was created so that the duke could make a hasty getaway at the time of the civil war,” Darcy said. “Are you game to see where it leads?”

“It’s awfully dark,” I said. “We can’t walk all that way in the darkness. At least, I’m not attempting it. I’ll keep thinking of spiders and rats.”

“I thought you were intrepid.” Darcy laughed. “Actually, we’re not very far from the house. The path curled around through that glen but we’re only just below the stables. And I happen to have my trusty cigarette lighter with me.” He produced it, and clicked it on. A tiny flame appeared. “Better than nothing,” he said.

“That won’t light our way very much and it probably won’t last all the way up to the house.”

“Oh, all right then.” Darcy scooped up some dead twigs, some still with leaves on them, fashioned them into a crude torch then lit the tip. It flared into flame. “Come on, follow me.”

We plunged into darkness with the flame from the impromptu torch lighting the passage with an eerie red glow. The floor and walls around us were smooth, cut into the chalk of the Downs but the ceiling was so low that we had to stoop, and unpleasant drips of water ran down inside my collar. I couldn’t stop thinking about those spiders. I am normally quite brave—just not where spiders are concerned. I really wanted to go back, but I didn’t want Darcy to think I was scared. The passage led steadily upward until without warning, Darcy swore and dropped the torch, whose flame sputtered and went out. We were plunged into darkness. I stifled a scream and grabbed onto Darcy.

“Damned thing burned my fingers,” he said.

“Turn your lighter on again.”

I heard its
click
,
and he said, “Drat. I knew I should have filled it. Come on. Take my hand. Can’t be far now.”

We moved forward, inch by inch, until my foot kicked against solid rock.

“Steps,” Darcy whispered, his voice echoing strangely. “We must be under the house now. Carefully.”

Up we went, feeling our way with hands and feet until we came to a small platform and before it a solid wall.

“There must be a door somewhere.” Darcy was feeling around carefully. Then he said, “Aha.” Light blinded us as a door swung open. We peered out and found ourselves looking into a small, empty room. The walls were paneled in dark wood, and the only contents of the room were glass-topped cases. It was the butterfly room I had discovered in my tour of Kingsdowne when I met Adrian. Darcy helped me step through, and the door swung shut behind us, now invisible from the rest of the paneling.

“Handy,” Darcy said. “Now we need to find out who might know about this, without giving away that we’ve found it ourselves.”

“Should we tell Fairbotham?” I asked.

“Not yet. Let’s wait and hear what he has found out himself first.”

We came out of the butterfly room without seeing a soul. As we walked down the corridor, we heard voices coming from behind a closed door.

“It wasn’t me. I didn’t do it!” a man’s voice was shouting.

“But you were seen, my lad.” Fairbotham’s voice.

“I told you what happened. I came up the path, planning to have it out with the duke and then I found him lying there, dead. I ran up to the house to report what I’d seen, but suddenly it occurred to me that someone might think that I’d done it.”

Darcy and I moved closer to the door.

“And what exactly did you mean when you said ‘have it out with the duke’?” Fairbotham’s voice inquired.

“Tell him what I thought of him. Tell him that he couldn’t throw out my parents, who had lived in that cottage all their lives. I was prepared to go to the press if necessary—let the world know how he was treating his tenants. The left-wing newspapers would love a story like that.”

“So how do we know that you didn’t have this little confrontation with the duke? That he didn’t laugh at you and tell you to go ahead and do your worst. There was nothing you could do to stop him from doing what he liked with his land. So you were furious. You’d seen the knife before in the tack room. You went and got it and followed him, and at the right moment you stabbed him.”

“I didn’t. I swear!” William’s voice had risen alarmingly now.

“I think you’d better come down to the station with me, my boy.”

“Are you arresting me?” William asked. “You can’t do that. I didn’t do it. You’ve no evidence against me at all.”

“We’ll see about that. Take him to the motorcar, boys, and see what he’d like to tell us after he’s been locked up in a cell for a while.”

“Ah, there you are,” said a peeved voice. We turned to see Belinda come up behind us. “I wondered where you’d got to. I must say, I thought it was rather mean of you to sneak off alone together, leaving me unguarded in a house full of potential murderers.”

“We were sent on a commission by Edwina, Belinda,” I said, wanting to laugh at her indignant face. “And anyway, why would anyone want to murder you? As you admit, you’ve no family connection.”

“No. Let go of me. You’ve got the wrong man. I didn’t do it!” The voice in the study had risen dramatically now.

Belinda stared at the door with interest. “Who have they got in there? Not Jack. He’s sitting with Edwina, being shown the family tree, and trying not to show that he’s dying of boredom.” She paused, put her hand to her mouth then grinned. “Oh, dear. One has to be careful what one says in a house where people are being popped off.”

Just then, the door burst open and William was pushed out, struggling as he was held by two burly Kentish coppers.

“Who was that?” Belinda asked as the young man was half dragged, half shoved out of the front door.

“An ex-footman,” I said.

We walked on down the hall, and made our way to the Long Gallery.

Belinda stared after them, speculatively. “He was the one who killed poor dear Cedric then? It wasn’t Jack after all?”

“Belinda, I have no idea who killed Cedric. It seems that he is another person who has a good motive.”

“It’s like a veritable house of horrors,” Belinda said, drawing her fur-collared cardigan more closely around her. “Next thing we’ll find out that it really was a batty aunt who is locked away in the garret. I can’t stand it here another minute, darling. I really do have to escape back to London to keep my sanity. Can you please work your magic on the clodhopping inspector and tell him that I had nothing to do with this crime and I’m needed desperately at home.”

“I should go up to London, anyway,” Darcy said. “You can come with me, Belinda.”

“Could I really? You’re an angel, a positive angel.” She reached up to stroke his cheek, and it looked as if she was about to kiss him. I felt a horrid stab of jealousy—I suspected that Darcy and Belinda had been more than friends in the past.

“Why do you have to go to London?” I asked, trying to sound unconcerned.

Darcy lowered his voice. “Why do you think? To see a pal at Scotland Yard. I can’t telephone from here without being overheard, and besides, these things are best done in person.”

“Then maybe I should come too,” I said. “Don’t you think it would be a good idea if I went to see my grandfather and enlisted his help? He’s seen plenty of murders during his time on the force. Perhaps I could persuade him to come down here.”

“Your grandfather is a splendid old chap,” Darcy said. “But I can hardly see him dining at Kingsdowne.”

“I don’t mean as a guest in the house,” I said. “Maybe he could pose as my chauffeur or something. Or even stay at a pub in the village.”

“I think we have to be careful, Georgie,” Darcy said. “I’m not even sure it’s a good idea to try and bring in Scotland Yard. Your grandfather would be seen as a terrible interference. And remember, the Kentish police are officially in charge until they request help.”

“But you can see that poor old Fairbotham doesn’t have a clue,” I said. “He’s arresting people left, right and center.”

“I’d say he has two reasonably good suspects,” Darcy said. “Jack and William would stand out as good candidates, whoever was doing the investigation.”

“I’d still like to talk it over with Granddad,” I said. “Maybe he’d have an idea why Cedric’s coat was put over him, and why the stab wound didn’t produce much blood. I’m sure those are important clues.”

“I understand perfectly, Georgie. You really want to get away from here as much as I do, don’t you, darling,” Belinda said. “A day in town will do you good. We could have a bite at Fortnum’s.”

“Now all we have to do is to persuade the chief inspector that we can leave the scene of the crime,” Darcy said ominously.

“He can’t possibly think that we had anything to do with Cedric’s death,” Belinda said.

“He clearly thinks Georgie is all right,” Darcy said with a quick glance in my direction. “Those two are thick as thieves. But you, Belinda—I’m afraid you’re a suspicious person to him. Someone who was chummy with Cedric in London, who is currently hard up, who arrives conveniently bringing a shoe when Cedric is killed. And you’re dealing with a policeman who loves circumstantial evidence. My bet is that you’ll be in the next-door cell to Jack by the end of the day.”

“Don’t, Darcy,” Belinda said, swinging her handbag at him. “It’s not funny. You’re frightening me.”

“He’s only teasing, Belinda.”

“I know. But it all sounds too plausible. I just wish they’d hurry up and find the real murderer. Let’s hope there were lovely fingerprints on the knife and someone confesses.”

“That’s a little too easy,” I said. “But I really hope they find out the truth soon. It must be horrid for Jack with everyone half believing that he did it.”

“Don’t you half believe he did it?” Belinda said. “The wild colonial boy. I bet they settle disputes with knives all the time in the outback.”

“Well, I don’t think he did it,” I said firmly, perhaps trying to convince myself. “He’s not stupid. Would you leave your knife sticking out of someone’s back so that everything would point straight to you?”

Belinda’s eyes opened wider. “So you’re suggesting that someone else wanted us to believe it was Jack?”

“Precisely.”

“You’re very clever, Georgie,” Belinda said. “Too bad you weren’t born a man, or you’d have made a brilliant detective.”

I caught Darcy’s eye, and he winked.

Chapter 27

By tea time, the house had returned to normal. Maids delivered plates of scones and cakes then hovered behind us, ready to pour tea when required. Everyone chatted as if nothing had ever happened, and I realized that they knew William had been taken away and were relieved. The murderer was not one of them after all. An outsider—and what’s more, someone of the lower classes. Cedric was dead but life would go on again at Kingsdowne as it always had.

“I have conveyed to Mrs. Broad that we will be quite content with another simple meal tonight,” Edwina said as she heaped clotted cream and strawberry jam onto a scone. “Really, these policemen are so insensitive. The servants are quite upset. I caught my own maid sniveling in a corner. Says she’s frightened to walk around the house in case a murderer is lurking. I told her to stop that nonsense instantly. The person who has been killed is my son, I said. It is I who should be weeping, not you. Besides, why would anyone consider a servant worth killing?”

She broke off as Chief Inspector Fairbotham came into the room.

“Any news, Chief Inspector?” she asked. “We saw our former footman William being taken away. Are we to gather that he was responsible?”

“William has been taken to the police station for questioning,” Fairbotham said. “As yet, no arrests have been made and we are still examining the evidence.” And his gaze focused on Jack. “I’m sending most of my men home for the day now, but I’ll be in touch as soon as we know anything more. Enjoy your tea.”

“Go on. Ask him now.” Belinda dug Darcy in the side.

Darcy got to his feet and followed the inspector out of the room. Belinda followed at a distance. I didn’t want to be left out and came along too. By the time I joined the conversation, Darcy had presumably asked his question. Fairbotham nodded. “I think that would be all right, Mr. O’Mara. I’ve no objection to your going anywhere, nor to Lady Georgiana’s. And I don’t suppose your young friend can give any further illumination to this case. But you’ll leave your home address and phone number, young lady. And you two plan to return, do you?”

“Absolutely,” I said. “Probably by the end of the day.”

“Thank you so much, Chief Inspector.” Belinda gave him one of her dazzling smiles usually reserved for men she planned to seduce. It worked. He blushed and gave an embarrassed little cough.

“No sense in keeping you bright young things in this gloomy place any longer than necessary,” he muttered. “I expect you’ve got parties to attend.”

As the inspector was about to head back to Cedric’s study, I plucked up courage, took a deep breath and said, “One more thing I haven’t yet mentioned, Chief Inspector.”

“Yes, Lady Georgiana?”

“When you saw the body, did anything strike you as strange about it?”

“That coat being thrown over it, you mean?”

“That too,” I said. “No, I mean that there was so little blood coming from the wound. That was a huge knife. It must have struck some kind of organ or blood vessel.”

He frowned at me. “What are you suggesting?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “I presume some kind of autopsy will be carried out?”

“I’m sure there will be. But I don’t know what you think an autopsy can show.”

“I’m not sure either, but I have a funny feeling about this. We may know more when I return from London,” I said.

“You never cease to surprise me, Lady Georgiana.” He rubbed his chin as he stared at me. “The cool way you can talk about blood and stab wounds. I’d always thought that young ladies of quality had an attack of the vapors if the word ‘blood’ was mentioned.”

“That was my grandmother’s generation,” I said. “We’re all rather tough these days. We’ve had a world war, remember. I don’t think any family came through that unscathed.”

“You’re right about that,” he said. “We lost my younger brother at the Somme.”

And he wandered off, still deep in thought. I went back to join Darcy, Belinda and the rest of the household.

“I know!” Princess Charlotte broke the silence. “It’s so obvious. Why didn’t I think of it before? We should have another séance after dinner tonight. Perhaps Cedric might return to name his killer.”

“Really, Charlotte. Don’t you think we’re going through enough without bringing farce into it?” Edwina snapped. “This is no time for your strange fancies.”

“My last séance prophesied death, did it not?” Charlotte said frostily. “And it would be so much nicer for all of us if Cedric’s killer were found and apprehended. And who better to tell us than Cedric himself?”

“Cedric was never particularly helpful in life. I don’t see his being so in death,” Irene said, putting down her tea cup firmly on the table.

“Really, Irene,” Edwina said. “I find it most uncharitable to speak in this way of your departed brother. You two never got along, even when you were children.”

“He was always a bossy little prig,” Irene said. “I’m sorry, Mother, but I can’t bring myself to weep for him. And don’t forget, he was prepared to cast us all out. He thought of nobody but himself.”

“Nevertheless, I was brought up with the maxim that one did not speak ill of the dead,” Edwina said. “And however badly he behaved, I still mourn the loss of my son.”

We sat in awkward silence, each of us wishing we were somewhere else. It had begun to rain heavily again so we couldn’t even escape by taking a turn around the grounds.

“Perhaps we should go up and see how the children are faring,” I said. “They are no doubt dying of curiosity about what has been happening downstairs.”

“Poor little things. I expect they find it all quite disturbing,” Irene said. “The less they know about it, the better.”

“Nonsense, Irene. They are relishing every moment of it,” Edwina said. “By all means go up to them, Georgiana.”

“I’ll come with you,” Darcy said.

“I just had to escape from that room,” I said. “So much tension.”

“I’d say the dowager duchess is holding up remarkably well,” Darcy said as we climbed the first flight of stairs. “One would hardly think that she’d lost her only remaining son today, and almost her daughter too.”

“I wonder if Fairbotham is really looking into what happened to Irene,” I said, pausing to stare down the hallway toward Irene’s bedroom. “His men have taken fingerprints now. They should be checking the glass that Irene used last night to see if there are any strange fingerprints on it. And I wonder if they ever did count the number of sleeping powders still remaining.”

“If she has a semi-efficient maid, the glass will have been washed,” Darcy said.

“Perhaps I should remind the inspector . . .” I began, turning back.

Darcy put a firm hand on my shoulder. “You’re getting too worked up about this, Georgie. Too involved. Leave it be. You’ve got to stop this belief that all crimes are your responsibility. You are the daughter of a duke and the granddaughter of a princess, and your job is to do charitable good works, enjoy yourself and choose a suitable husband.”

“I’ve obviously already failed at all of the above,” I said as Darcy laughed.

Nursery tea was still going on in Sissy’s room as we came in. Mr. Carter and Nanny were sitting with the three children. Nick and Kat jumped up excitedly when they saw us.

“What’s been happening?” Nick asked. “We’ve been dying to know. We heard shouting and we saw the police bundling someone into a police car.”

“It was William the footman,” I said. “It was a good thing that you told the inspector what you’d seen, Sissy.”

“But I didn’t see how he could have had anything to do with Uncle Cedric’s murder,” she said. “I’m sure I saw him come up to the house well before eight. My clock had just chimed half past not long before.”

As if on cue, the clock chimed again, striking four. We turned to look at it.

“Well, that explains one discrepancy,” Darcy said. “Your clock is slow, Sissy. It’s already four twenty.”

“Oh dear,” Sissy said. “That clock has always been unreliable. That was Papa for you. He couldn’t even give me a trustworthy clock.” She turned away and stared out of the window. “So I really might have seen William running up to the house after he murdered Uncle Cedric?”

“He claimed that he stumbled upon the body and that was why he was running up to the house,” I said. “Then he realized that he might be implicated.”

“What does ‘implicated’ mean?” Katherine asked.

“Involved. Possibly guilty,” Mr. Carter said. “Really, Katherine, if you read a little more, you’d increase your vocabulary.”

“Reading is boring. I like doing things better,” Kat said. “Like our experiments. They’re good. And detecting, like Sherlock Holmes. I bet we could find some good clues if you let us loose in the grounds. I bet we could solve the murder before those silly policemen.”

“So now the police think William did it, and not Jack?” Nick asked.

“I don’t think Chief Inspector Fairbotham has made up his mind yet,” I said. “He still wants to suspect Jack.”

“It sounds awful to say that I hope it was William,” Sissy said, “but I really do.” Her cheeks were quite pink.

We chatted a little longer then took our leave.

“You will come up again when there is any more news, won’t you?” Nick asked. “We simply have to know what’s going on. It’s so unfair.”

“We’re going up to London tomorrow,” I said. “So you’ll have to find out from other sources.”

“You’re so lucky.” Kat sighed. “We’re stuck up here and never go anywhere.”

“Let’s hope it’s a fine day tomorrow,” Nick said. “Then we can go outside and look at the scene of the crime. Maybe there’s bloodstains. Maybe we’ll find clues.”

“Enough of such talk,” Nanny said. “Bloodstains, indeed. Since when did nicely behaved children mention such things?”

“Those children need to go away to school and lead a normal life,” Darcy said to me as we came back down the stairs.

“They want to. It’s a question of money. Now that Jack is Duke of Eynsford, perhaps he’ll pay for their schooling.”

“If it turns out. . . .” Darcy didn’t finish the sentence. There were so many ifs at the moment.

“Let’s hope that Scotland Yard and my grandfather can solve this quickly and everything will be all right,” I said. “I hate this feeling of not knowing, of suspecting everyone.”

As we came to the end of the landing, Darcy grabbed my arm.

“What’s wrong?” I jumped a mile, looking around for potential danger.

“Nothing. I just thought that we might take this opportunity . . .” He drew me close to him and his arms came around me.

“Darcy, do you think we should?” I asked, looking around nervously.

He chuckled. “I say take our chances while we can.”

I didn’t protest as his lips came to meet mine. I suspect I was looking somewhat guilty as we came back to join the others in the Long Gallery. Belinda noticed and raised an eyebrow but nobody else paid any attention to us, as Fairbotham was addressing the assembled company.

“So I thought I should tell you that no fingerprints were found on the handle of the knife used to kill the duke,” he was saying.

“No fingerprints?” Edwina demanded. “You mean no strange fingerprints.”

“No, I mean absolutely no fingerprints at all. Whoever did this wiped the handle clean afterward.”

“So the killer had time to wipe the handle clean but not time to move the body or to remove the knife,” I muttered to Darcy. “This gets stranger and stranger.”

“So we’re no further ahead, unless William confesses,” Irene said.

“Actually no, we are a little further ahead.” A glint came into Fairbotham’s eye. He turned to Jack. “Remember this morning you told us that you never went anywhere near the path in the glen, sir?” he asked. “And you even pointed at your boots and said how different your footprints would be from anyone else’s?”

Jack nodded. “That’s right.”

“Well, it might surprise you to know that we found your footprints on that path—and nice and clear and recent they were too.”

Jack blushed bright red. “I can explain that,” he said. “You see, I popped down to the pub in the village for a quick one.”

“The public house in the village?” Edwina actually fanned herself with a copy of
The Tattler
. “You went to a common, ordinary public house? You, a duke?”

“Well, I felt like some common, ordinary beer,” Jack said defiantly. “I’ve been cooped up here too long. I feel like a bloody chook in a pen.”

“And when was this, sir?”

“About one, I suppose,” Jack said. “I can’t tell you exactly.”

“We can verify that he came up that path around two o’clock,” Darcy said. “And told us he had been to the pub.”

“I see,” the chief inspector said. He was still staring at Jack. “Rather convenient, wouldn’t you say?”

“What do you mean?” Jack demanded.

“Meaning that if we found your distinctive footprints on that path, you’d have a good excuse for their being there—one that had nothing to do with the murder.”

“That’s bloody rubbish,” Jack said, standing up belligerently.

“Watch it, young man.” Fairbotham wagged a finger in Jack’s face. “I’m not arresting you right now, but I’m placing a police guard on the door, and you’re not leaving this place again. Do I make myself clear?” When Jack didn’t answer, he looked around at the rest of us. “And the same goes for all of you. I’ve given permission for Mr. O’Mara and Lady Georgiana to be away tomorrow, but that’s it. Nobody else is to go anywhere. Is that clear?”