Her Royal Spyness (17 page)

“Worse,” I said.

“Then you have obviously done society a favor. The world is less one horrid person.”

“I had nothing to do with his death, Belinda, and I’m sure Binky didn’t either. We’ve just provided the bath.”

She peered closely at him, utterly unsqueamish about the revolting spectacle. “So how did he get into your bath, do you think?”

“I have no idea. I went out to do my domestic duties, leaving Binky in the house. I came home to find the front door unlocked, water all over the floor, and this man lying here.”

“And what does Binky say about it?”

“I’m afraid he’s done a quick getaway back to Scotland.”

“How frightfully unchivalrous of him—leaving you to face the music. You don’t think this is his doing, then?”

I weighed it in my mind. “I really don’t think so,” I said at last. “I simply can’t picture Binky drowning someone in a bathtub. He’s too clumsy, for one thing. He’d have slipped on the soap or something. And if he had made up his mind to do away with de Mauxville, he would hardly have left him lying in our own bathtub, would he?”

“It’s certainly not the brightest thing to have done,” she said, “but your brother was never noted for his high intellect, was he?”

“Even Binky couldn’t be that stupid, surely.” I heard the note of uncertainty creep into my voice. “Anyway, I suspect he’s on a train heading north at the moment. I’m waiting for him to arrive home in Scotland, so that I can telephone him and find out the truth. But in the meantime, what should I do? We can’t just leave de Mauxville lying there.”

Belinda shrugged. “If you don’t want to try burying him in the back garden, which I personally think is an excellent idea, you’ll simply have to call the police.”

“I suppose so,” I agreed. “After all, why should I be afraid? I am innocent. I have nothing to hide—”

“Apart from the small fact that you dress up as a maid and go to scrub other people’s lavatories,” Belinda reminded me.

“Well, apart from that.”

“Don’t worry. I’m here at your side,” Belinda said. “It would take a formidable policeman to get the better of the two of us.”

I managed a weak smile. “All right. I’ll do it.”

I went downstairs to the telephone, then we waited, perched side by side on the stairs, staring at the front door, listening to a clock ticking somewhere in the emptiness of the house.

“Who do you think could have done it?” Belinda asked at last. “What was he doing here in the first place?”

“I suppose he must have come to see Binky.”

“But if Binky didn’t kill him, who did?”

I shrugged. “Someone else. A stranger, I suppose.”

She shook her head. “You want the police to believe that a complete stranger broke into your house while you were out and drowned somebody in your bathtub? That would take a great deal of nerve and planning, Georgiana, as well as a great deal of luck.”

“I know. It hardly seems feasible, does it? I mean, who could possibly know that de Mauxville was coming here? Hardly anybody even knew we were in London. And surely de Mauxville can’t have many acquaintances here.”

She stared thoughtfully at the chandelier. “This de Mauxville,” she said, “is he one of us, or strictly NOCD?” (Which, in case you don’t know, is shorthand for “not our class, dear.”)

“I really couldn’t say. He was rather rude, but then I know plenty of rude peers and I expect you do too.”

“Do you know where he was staying?”

“Claridge’s.”

“That does imply money but no club.”

“He’s French, Belinda. Would a Frenchman belong to a London club?”

“If he had London connections and made frequent trips across the Channel, he would. So staying at Claridge’s implies that he doesn’t know people here and doesn’t come here often.”

“Not very helpful,” I said.

“You need to find out all about him. If you found him unpleasant, he may have annoyed any number of people who were just waiting to drown him in somebody’s bath. So find out what he does when he comes to England—when he’s not trying to get his hands on your castle, I mean.”

“I agree, but how?”

“I know an awful lot of people,” she said. “Including people who spend half the year on the Continent. People who frequent the casinos in Nice and Monte Carlo. I could ask questions for you.”

“Belinda—would you really? You are an absolute brick.”

“I shall find it rather fun, actually. Belinda Warburton-Stoke, girl detective.”

In spite of the tension, I had to laugh. “Girl detective,” I echoed.

“I’m sure I shall be better at it than the dreary, plodding policeman they are bound to send to investigate.”

As if on cue there was a thunderous knocking at the front door. I shot Belinda a look and went down to open it. Several blue uniforms were standing on the front steps and in their midst was one fawn raincoat and trilby. Beneath the trilby was a tired-looking face—a sort of fawn-colored, washed-out face with an expression that indicated life was always unutterably awful, and a fawn mustache that matched the raincoat. The trilby was raised halfheartedly.

“Good evening, miss. Inspector Harry Sugg. I understand that somebody at this address reported a dead body on the premises.”

“That is correct. Won’t you come in, Inspector?”

He was regarding me suspiciously. “I take it there really is a dead body and this isn’t one of those pranks that you bright young people seem to find so amusing—like stealing policemen’s helmets?”

“I can assure you there is a body and it’s not at all amusing,” I said.

I turned and led the way back into the house. Belinda had stood up and was waiting halfway up the stairs. The trilby was raised to her. “Good evening, madam. Are you the owner of this establishment?”

“No, she’s not,” I said shortly. “This is Rannoch House, owned by the duke.”

“What duke would that be, miss?” he asked, taking out a notepad and pencil.

“The Duke of Glen Garry and Rannoch,” I said. “My brother. I am Lady Georgiana Rannoch, great-granddaughter to the late Queen Victoria, cousin to His Majesty. This is my friend Belinda Warburton-Stoke.”

He didn’t seem particularly impressed—not bowing and scraping as Belinda had suggested.

“How do you do, miss?” He nodded to her. “All right then. Supposing you show me this body.”

“This way,” I said. I realized I had taken an instant and completely irrational dislike to him. I led him up the first flight of stairs, across the landing, and then up the second flight. I noticed he was puffing a little by the time we got to the top. Not used to climbing Scottish crags, obviously.

“He’s in the bath,” I said.

He still looked as if he wasn’t taking me seriously and was dying to prove me an idiot. “In the bath, eh? Are you sure that one of your friends didn’t have a drop too much and is now sleeping it off?”

“I doubt it. He’s underwater, for one thing. See for yourself.” I pushed open the bathroom door. He stepped inside, then visibly recoiled.

“I do see what you mean,” he said. “Yes, he’s definitely dead, all right. Rogers! In here! You better get on the blower to headquarters and tell them we’ll want the fingerprint kit, the camera with the flash, the lot.”

He stepped out of the bathroom and turned to me. “This is nasty. Very nasty indeed. Unless he decided to end his own life, it looks very much as if someone ended it for him.”

“Why would he choose to end his own life in Lady Georgiana’s bathtub?” Belinda said.

“And if he were going to do so, he wouldn’t have worn his overcoat,” I added.

“Unless he found the water a trifle chilly, or he wanted it to weigh him down,” Belinda said, with the faintest of twinkles in her eyes. I could tell she was finding this rather fun, but then she wasn’t the prime suspect. I found myself wondering if those of royal blood still had the privilege of being hanged with a silken cord, then decided that having my neck irritated by coarse hemp would be the least of my worries.

Inspector Sugg looked around, as if seeking inspiration. “Is there somewhere we can sit down and talk while I wait for my team to get here?”

“The morning room is opened up,” I said. “It’s this way.”

“The morning room,” he echoed. I wondered if he was playing with the word, or thought I had meant “mourning.” He followed me back down the stairs. We sat. I was wondering what the protocol was at this juncture and whether I should offer to serve tea. Since I had no servant and did not want to put myself into that role in front of the inspector, I declined.

“Right, let’s get to business,” he said. “Who was it found the body?”

“I did,” I said.

“And I was right behind her at the time,” Belinda added for good measure.

“What time was that, miss?”

I was obviously still going to be “miss” to him even though I had told him that I was the duke’s sister. Perhaps he’d never learned to use “my lady” or even “your ladyship.” Perhaps he was a socialist of the most egalitarian brand. Perhaps he was just plain thick. I decided not to let it rankle.

“We had been shopping together all morning, then we had a spot of lunch together, and came back here about fifteen minutes ago,” I said, repeating our carefully rehearsed plan. “I went upstairs to change, saw water on the floor, opened the bathroom door, and found the body.”

“Did you touch anything?”

“I started to rescue him, until I realized he was dead,” I said. “I had never seen a dead body before so it was rather a shock.”

“And who is he?”

“I’m not really sure,” I said. I couldn’t make myself tell an outright lie. “I believe I’ve seen him before, but I certainly was never introduced to him. An acquaintance of my brother, perhaps.”

“Your brother, the duke?”

“That’s right.”

“And he is where?”

“In Scotland, I believe, at the family seat.”

“So what was his friend doing here then?”

That one I could answer. “He wasn’t my brother’s friend, I can assure you. And I have absolutely no idea what he was doing here. He certainly wasn’t here when I left the house this morning and when I returned he was lying dead in our bath.”

“So who else was in the house?” The inspector chewed at his pencil—a nasty habit that Nanny had cured me of at four.

I hesitated, just for a second. “Nobody,” I said.

Then I simply couldn’t leave it at that. “My brother had been in London on business, but he had been staying mainly at his club.”

“When did he leave London?”

“I couldn’t tell you. He is a rather vague person and doesn’t communicate his plans to me.”

“And what about servants? Where were they today?”

“We have no servants down here,” I said. “The family residence is in Scotland. I came down alone. My Scottish maid didn’t want to leave her invalid mother and I haven’t had time to hire a local maid yet. I’m really only using this as a pied-à-terre, until I settle my future plans.”

“So you are, essentially, living in the house alone?”

“That’s right.”

“So let me get this straight: you left the house this morning, spent the day with your friend here, came back this afternoon to find a body in your bathtub—someone you don’t even recognize. And you have no idea who let him in or what he was doing here?”

“That is correct.”

“And a little hard to believe, wouldn’t you say?”

“I agree, it seems completely impossible, Inspector,” I said, “but it’s the truth. I can only conclude that there is some kind of sick-minded madman running around London.”

“You simply can’t stay in this house alone any longer, Georgie,” Belinda interrupted. “Pack some things and you can sleep on my sofa.”

The inspector now turned his attention to her, which was, perhaps, what she wanted.

“Miss Warburton-Stoke, did you say?”

“That’s right.” She flashed him a dazzling smile.

“And your address is . . . ?”

“I live in a dinky little mews cottage. Three Seville Mews. Just a stone’s throw away in Knightsbridge, actually.”

“And you were with your chum when she discovered the body?”

“I was with Lady Georgiana, yes,” she said. “At least, she went upstairs to change while I waited downstairs. I came when I heard her scream.”

“Have you seen the body, miss?”

“I certainly have. Horrid-looking man, I’d say. He didn’t even look as if he’d shaved today.”

“And you’d never seen him before?”

“Absolutely not. Never seen him in my life. And believe me, Inspector, I’d remember a nasty face like that.”

The inspector got to his feet. “Very well, then. I suppose that’s all for now. But I shall need to speak to your brother, the duke, you know. How can I reach him in Scotland?”

I didn’t want the police talking to Binky before I had a chance for my own little chat with him. “As I said, I’m not quite sure where he is at present. You could always try his club, in case he hasn’t left London.”

“I thought you just said he was in Scotland.”

“I said I wasn’t sure of his whereabouts and assumed he’d gone home. If you like, I’ll try friends and family in Scotland for you, although the telephone is not in the widest use up there. It is rather remote.”

“Don’t worry, miss. We’ll find him, all right.”

Belinda took my arm. “Inspector, we really should let Lady Georgiana have a cup of tea. She’s obviously in shock. I mean, who wouldn’t be if they found a dead man in their house?”

He nodded. “I suppose you’ve both had a bit of a shock. Off you go and have a cup of tea and a lie-down then. I know where to find you if I need you. And in the meantime if that brother of yours turns up, tell him we need to speak to him right away. Is that clear?”

“Oh, absolutely, Inspector,” I said.

“Off you go, then. I’ll have men working at the house for some time, I expect.” He tried to chivvy us to the front door.

“It will be well supervised, I hope,” I said. “There are many valuable objects in this house. I wouldn’t want to risk their getting stolen or damaged.”

“Don’t worry, miss. Your house will be in good hands. There will be a constable on guard outside until this little matter is cleared up. Now off you go.”

“Her ladyship needs to collect some belongings before she goes. She can’t leave without so much as a toothbrush.”