02 - Murder at Dareswick Hall (22 page)

She
felt a surge of emotion well up inside her. She could not bear it. The thought
of standing by and watching Cedric marry someone else was unbearable. Whatever
happened, whoever the murderer turned out to be, she was determined to be with
Cedric whatever obstacles were put in her way. And with this thought she
hurried to the house, eager to lay eyes on him again. Perhaps he had felt
something of the same for at that moment one of the French windows opened and
out walked Cedric, tall and blonde and handsome, even from a distance. He was
looking for her she could tell and, without a second thought for how it would
look or what the servants would think, she was calling out his name and waving
her arms lest he should not see her. He turned and looked in her direction. His
face instantly lit up and he smiled and with a glowing feeling Rose thought, I
am the cause of the look of joy on his face, it’s my company he seeks above all
others. And, before she quite knew what she was doing, she found herself half
walking, half running and he was doing the same only his strides were longer so
he was quicker and then they were laughing and collapsing into each other’s
arms, and Dareswick Hall and Sneddon’s murder seemed very far away indeed.

‘It’s
not so much a case of who was the last person to see Lord Sneddon in the hour
or two before his death, more a case of who do not see him,’ complained Deacon.

‘I know
what you mean, sir,’ agreed the sergeant. ‘It seems to me that it was a bit
like Piccadilly Circus with all the comings and goings that went on here last
night. If what everyone says is correct, then no sooner had one person been
down and gone, another one would arrive.’

‘You’re
right, sergeant. Now if I’ve got it straight, the baron leaves Sneddon in the
library. Sneddon rings for Crabtree who comes and brings him another decanter
of whisky. While he’s drinking that, Miss Simpson comes down to the library in
search of a book. After a time she leaves and Isabella Atherton comes down,
followed later by the manservant who goes and fetches the letters. Then
Isabella leaves and Ricketts stays with Sneddon a while before he too goes,
leaving the way clear for the murderer to come down and kill Sneddon.’

‘Sounds
like the murderer was jolly lucky not to have bumped into someone while doing
the deed,’ said Lane.

‘Yes, I
think he or she would have had to leave it quite a while before coming down so
that they could be sure that they weren’t going to be disturbed.’

‘That
fits in with Josephine Atherton doing the deed,’ said Lane, ‘or at least witnessing
the deed being done by the chauffeur, before setting off into the night.’

‘It
does. On the other hand ….’ Deacon broke off from what he was saying as the
noise of running feet and general activity could be heard in the hall outside.

‘Oh,
lor,’ sighed Lane, ‘don’t tell me Ricketts has tried to make a break for
freedom again, won’t the fellow ever learn?’

‘Sir,
sir, please sir.’ A young constable burst unceremoniously into the room. ‘Sorry
sir, for not knocking and all, but they’re back. We just caught sight of the
car at the brow of the drive from the upstairs windows. They’ll be at the door
in a moment.’

‘Who
will be, Constable?’

‘Why,
Josephine Atherton and the chauffeur, sir. Well at least definitely the
chauffeur. It was impossible to tell from this distance sir, whether there was
anyone in the back seat.’

‘Quick,
Lane.’ The Inspector bounded over to the door. ‘You get out into the hall and
head off any of the servants that come, or family or guests, come to that. I
don’t want any of them to have a chance to warn or speak to the couple before
we’ve had an opportunity to interview them ourselves. We’ll let Crabtree open
the door to them but he’s to stay by the front door. I don’t want any of the
footmen to go out. As soon as the chauffeur has got out of the car and so can’t
drive away, I want you, Lane, and one of the constables to appear and apprehend
Brimshaw. You can take him to the garage and interview him there. Constable,
you stay with me and we’ll escort Josephine Atherton into the house and I’ll
interview her in here. Is that clear? Right, come on then!’

It
seemed to Deacon, much to his annoyance, that the whole house had turned out to
watch the wanderers come home. In reality it was only Sidney and Robert, who
were soon sent packing back to the servants’ hall, Crabtree, who remained, and
Rose and Cedric who had just come in from the garden through the drawing room
French windows and had ventured out into the hall to ascertain what all the
commotion and excitement was about. The inspector gave them a quick look of
reproach but refrained from saying anything as the car was fast approaching.
Indeed, unless he was mistaken, the car had come to a stop in front of the
house. He gave one final warning glance to Rose and Cedric to say nothing and
nodded to the butler to open the door. His sergeant stood at his shoulder,
biting at the bit, anxious to pounce on the chauffeur as soon as he had climbed
out of the car.

It
seemed to Rose that everyone was holding their breath to see what was going to
happen. With a stab of something akin to pity, she heard Josephine’s clear,
pleasant voice float through the air.

‘Oh,
there you are, Crabtree. I wondered where everyone was. Will you send Robert
and Sidney out please, there’s a suitcase in the boot and a few other things
for them to bring in so that Brimshaw can garage the car. I suppose Father’s
frightfully cross, isn’t he, my up and leaving in the middle of the night like
that, especially as we’ve got guests. I know it looks a little odd but I can
explain everything, really I can. And you mustn’t be angry with Brimshaw, he
was only doing what I asked of him. Where’s Father, in his study?’ It appeared
that Crabtree had seen fit to nod, incorrect though this answer was. Either
way, Josephine had received sufficient encouragement to enter the house,
apparently totally unaware of what was awaiting her within.

‘Yes, I
suppose I’d better get it over with. I expect Father’s been behaving like a
bear with a sore head all morning, hasn’t he? He’s no doubt been awfully
worried about me, silly old thing, I… Oh, I say,’ Josephine was taken aback
slightly so as to lose her flow by Lane pushing past her rather rudely to
apprehend Brimshaw before he had a chance of getting back in the car and
driving away. ‘I do hope that’s not the new footman come to replace Robert,
Crabtree. He seems an awfully rude sort of a fellow and he’s dressed rather
badly. Wasn’t there a uniform available that would fit him?’

Crabtree
had stepped aside so that she could cross the threshold and it was only then
that she caught sight of Deacon and the worried and anxious faces of Cedric and
Rose. She must have realised instinctively that something was wrong, for she
opened her mouth once or twice to say something but no sound came out. Deacon
stepped forward so as not to prolong the confusion.

‘Miss
Atherton, my name’s Detective Inspector Deacon. I’m from Scotland Yard. I’d
like to have a few words with you in your father’s study, if you don’t mind. Just
one or two questions that I would like to ask you.

‘Detective
Inspector? Why….?’

‘This
way if you would, please, miss,’ Deacon had deftly opened the study door and
was attempting to usher her inside. ‘And you needn’t worry about the young man
who’s just gone out. He’s not your new footman, he’s my sergeant. He’s just
gone to have a few words with your chauffeur.’

Josephine
appeared taken aback by events. So much so that it appeared at first that she
would allow herself to be herded into the study without making a fuss. But just
as she was about to go through the door she turned and hesitated.

‘I
should like Rose to come in with me please, Inspector. Say you will, Rose.
Father’s less likely to be too angry with me in front of guests. He doesn’t
agree with washing one’s dirty laundry in public. That’s why he was so furious
with Hallam when he said what he did to Lord Sneddon.’

For a
moment no one spoke, as if confused or embarrassed as to what to say. Rose
decided to seize her chance. She had to find out what Josephine told the
police. She had to discover what had happened the night before and what had
caused Josephine to flee in the way she had. And why had she come back? Surely
she realised the danger she was putting herself in by returning? And if she
were to confess to her part in the crime, well then Rose would be there to
offer what little comfort she could, given the circumstances.

‘Yes,
of course,’ Rose said, and she had sailed into the room before Deacon had the
presence of mind to refuse her admittance or to correct Josephine’s mistaken
belief that her father was in the study waiting to admonish her.

Deacon
closed the door behind the three of them. He glared at Rose but she pretended
not to notice, refusing to meet his eye, and instead she wandered over to the
window and looked out, as if fascinated by the view. She waited until Josephine
and the inspector had chosen their seats and then deliberately chose a chair a
little away from Deacon’s, where she was outside his line of vision but where
she could catch Josephine’s eye if she found it necessary. If the inspector
noticed this deliberate manoeuvre he made no sign and said nothing. Perhaps,
thought Rose, he was impatient for the interview to get going. For him it had
been a long day. He and his sergeant had barely stopped for lunch, snatching a
few sandwiches hastily put together by the kitchen staff, washed down with a
pot of tea. The family and guests had fared little better, no one having had much
of an appetite and the servants being restive and unsettled. Unbeknown to her,
Mrs Gooden had had to give the scullery and kitchen maids a stern talking to.
They were now disinclined to work being torn as they were between crying their
eyes out at the thought of being in a house where a murder had occurred and
huddling in a corner speculating on who could have done such a thing.

‘Really,
Inspector, my father does tend to overreact somewhat. I mean to say, calling in
Scotland Yard to investigate my disappearance. Well I never! I’m frightfully
sorry to have caused you such inconvenience. I’m sure that you’ve got far
better things to look into than my being gone for the night.’

Deacon
studied her to see if she were being sincere. She was an ordinary, pleasant
looking young woman, he thought. She had neither the fierce beauty nor strong temperament
of her sister, he conjectured. A sensible sort of young woman, he supposed, one
who would put the needs of others before herself, unlike Isabella Atherton.

‘We are
not here to investigate your disappearance, Miss Atherton, although having said
that I am sure your father will be delighted to find that you have returned
from wherever you’ve been safe and well,’ Deacon said slowly, watching the
reaction on her face closely as his words sunk in.

‘You’re
not?’ To Rose, Josephine both looked and sounded surprised. ‘Well, I must say,
that’s a relief. I would have hated you to have wasted your time over me. I can
imagine your time’s jolly precious and all that.’ She smiled and looked at him
expectantly, waiting for him to explain why he was there. Then she looked
around the room. ‘I say, where’s my father? I thought he’d be here to read me
the riot act.’

‘He’s
trying to make contact with the Duke of Haywater. Your brother and the Earl of
Belvedere are with him now.’ Deacon pulled himself up straight and looked her
in the eye. ‘I’m here, Miss Atherton, to investigate the murder of Lord
Sneddon. His body was discovered this morning in the library by one of your
maids.’

‘Oh!’ A
stifled scream escaped from Josephine’s lips and her hand flew to her face and
she covered her eyes. Deacon, Rose saw, was watching her keenly. To Rose’s eyes
she was clearly distraught by the news and inwardly she cursed the inspector
for breaking it to her so bluntly.

‘He had
been stabbed in the back with this.’ Deacon took from the table the little gold
dagger, which he held at one end, a handkerchief wrapped around the handle.  It
looked such a beautiful, inoffensive sort of thing. It was almost
incomprehensible, Rose thought, that such an item could be a murder weapon. ‘Do
you recognise it, Miss Atherton? Do you recognise the murder weapon?’

Josephine’s
face filled with a look of horror as she nodded her head very slowly before
replying. ‘It’s my letter opener, Inspector. I keep it on my writing desk in
the library. I use it nearly every day.’ She laughed a high pitched little
laugh and then shuddered involuntarily. ‘I shall never use it again, of course.
It is quite ruined, contaminated. I want you to take it away; I never want to
lay eyes on it again.’

‘We
shall certainly be taking it away with us for the time being,’ agreed the
inspector. ‘It is evidence. You look shocked, Miss Atherton, if I may say so.
Can I take it you were unaware of Lord Sneddon’s death until now?’

‘Well, yes,
of course, Inspector, I would hardly have just disappeared if I had known about
it, would I?’

‘Well,
you might have if you’d had anything to do with his death,’ replied Deacon, his
face taking on a serious look.

‘Are
you suggesting that I murdered Hugh?’ exclaimed Josephine, looking at him
incredulously. ‘Surely you can’t believe
I
killed him?’

‘Perhaps
not you personally,’ agreed Deacon. ‘Perhaps you got the chauffeur to do the
deed for you.’

‘Brimshaw?’
Josephine paled visibly. ‘Are you suggesting that our chauffeur had a hand in
murdering Lord Sneddon?’

‘It is
a possibility, Miss Atherton, and certainly something we will be looking into.’

‘Oh,
this is ridiculous, Inspector. What possible reason could I, or our servant,
have had to wish the man dead?’

‘You
must look at it from our perspective, Miss Atherton. On the very same night,
probably at the very same time, that Lord Sneddon was being murdered, you took
it upon yourself to up and leave in the middle of the night leaving no note or
explanation for your sudden absence.  That seems to me very strange behaviour,
Miss Atherton, particularly as you had guests in the house. Tell me, were you
intending on coming back or was there a sudden change of plan?’

‘Of
course I was coming back. Why, I would have been there and come back again and
no one would have been any the wiser,’ Josephine said, desperately.

‘Would
have” I think you said, Miss Atherton,’ said Deacon, looking at her sternly. ‘Do
I take it that you set off later than you were intending to?’

‘Much
later, yes. I had wanted to set off considerably earlier but people were still
up and about. Everyone had retired to bed quite early but then they all seemed
to start getting up and moving around again.’

‘Give
me a few examples if you will, Miss Atherton.’

‘Well,
the first time I was pretty sure that the whole household had gone to bed
including the servants but, when I crept down the stairs to make sure, I heard
Crabtree talking to Hugh. The library door was slightly ajar. I didn’t stop and
listen to what they were saying but Hugh sounded rather upset. Well, then I
went upstairs and waited some more and was just about to go downstairs again
when I heard Rose’s door open and her go downstairs. I’m afraid I was rather
annoyed with you, Rose,’ Josephine said looking up. ‘Particularly as you didn’t
return straightaway. Well I waited some more, heard you come back and go into
your room and then was just about to come out again when I heard Isabella’s
door open. Her room is next to mine. Well, I waited an age for her to come back,
I can tell you, and then when she did I pretty well ran down the stairs and
went out of the house.’

‘What
time was this?’

‘About
two o’clock, I think. But it could have been earlier. I remember thinking it
was jolly late. I almost thought about not going at all.’

‘I’ll
come on to that later. Now, did you happen to go past the library when you left
the house?’

‘Yes.’

‘And
was Sneddon there alone or was someone with him?’

‘I
don’t know, the door was shut. Someone might have been in there with him but
I’m afraid I didn’t hear anything.’

‘You
didn’t happen to go into the room yourself by any chance?’

‘And
pick up my letter opener and plunge it into his back?’ asked Josephine. ‘No, I
didn’t Inspector. The last time I laid eyes on Lord Sneddon was when I left the
drawing room after dinner to go to bed, and he was very much alive then.’

‘What
about Brimshaw?’

‘What
about him?’

‘Didn’t
you let him in to help you carry your suitcase down the stairs?’

‘No, I
managed that myself, Inspector. I would have liked him to have carried it for
me, of course, but it was too risky. If he’d been caught, he couldn’t have
explained why he was there. His living quarters are above the garage, you see.’

‘Yes, I
see that. So you staggered with your suitcase down the stairs and then what did
you do?’

‘I let
myself out of one of the little side doors. Crabtree’s a bit of a stickler for
locks and bolts and things, and it is one of the only doors that’s not bolted.
I didn’t want to make any unnecessary noise, you see, pulling back the bolts
and all that.’

‘So you
just unlocked the side door with a key, I assume?’