02 - Murder at Dareswick Hall (25 page)

‘You
realise, sir,’ said Lane pondering, ‘that we’ve never really thought about the
Earl of Belvedere as a possible suspect, have we? And yet he could easily be
one, couldn’t he? I mean, we could put together a decent motive, couldn’t we,
if we had to? Sneddon could have been blackmailing him over revealing what
really happened at Ashgrove. Or perhaps Sneddon found out that he had got a
girl into trouble and threatened to tell Miss Simpson.’

‘Or he
decided to kill Sneddon to protect the Athertons,’ suggested Deacon. ‘He
definitely seemed a bit worried about the Hallam boy to me. It’s just the sort
of misguided act he might do out of a sense of chivalry. Having said that, I
can’t see him stabbing Sneddon in the back in cold blood, can you? As he said
when we suggested to him that Hallam Atherton might have murdered Sneddon, it
wasn’t a very sporting way to kill him. The man’s not a coward. He’d have
confronted Sneddon face to face.’

‘Even
so, sir, he might easily have had a motive.’

‘Quite
right. We won’t discount him quite yet.’

‘Someone
else? You mean she was in love with that chauffeur fellow all along?’ Cedric
looked appalled. ‘So they really were running away together. Goodness, I hope
the baron never finds out, he’d be absolutely furious. Still, the girl
obviously came to her senses before it was too late. They must have had second
thoughts about the whole escapade.’

‘I
don’t think so. I don’t think Josephine has ever been in love with Brimshaw. I
think she is in love with someone else.’

‘Oh,
crikey.’ Cedric, Rose noticed, had gone rather pink. ‘I suppose I ought to tell
you, Rose, that there was a time, a good few years ago now, when Josephine and
I were rather fond of each other. To be honest, I thought more of her as a
sister than anything else. She was a jolly lot easier to get along with than
Lavinia, I can tell you, and she found Isabella a little trying. The Athertons
are old family friends, as I told you before, and we spent a great deal of time
together. I’m just wondering whether she might have thought about me in a
somewhat more romantic light. I’m not saying I’m anything to write home about,
but she doesn’t get to meet very many eligible young men stuck out here in the
sticks, so it’s just possible that –.’

‘I
don’t want to hurt your feelings, darling,’ laughed Rose, ‘but I’m afraid that
I don’t think it’s you she’s in love with.’

‘Well
that’s a relief,’ said Cedric, with feeling, ‘especially as –.’

‘Yes,’
said Rose quickly, going crimson. ‘But I do think there is someone, or was
someone. Oh, it’s hard to know for sure with Josephine. But she was definitely
intending to go away never to return to Dareswick, I’m sure of it, and I can
only think that an unsuitable match is the only explanation. According to the
maid who brought me my cup of tea this morning, Josephine took her everyday
clothes together with her jewellery box. They’ve all been unpacked now of
course. The poor girl was grumbling about the extra work. But anyway, that
proves at the very least that Josephine was going to be living a different sort
of life to the one she was used to. She had no need for fancy gowns and the
like and obviously took her jewellery with her so that she could pawn or sell
pieces when she needed to.’

‘But
she came back?’

‘Yes,
things obviously did not turn out as she had hoped they would. And what’s more,
I don’t think she intended to leave here this weekend, not with all her family
at home and guests as well. No, I think she was intending to slip away quietly.
Something forced her to go when she did. I wonder what it was.’

‘Hello,
you two, what are you doing hiding away here? Hope I’m not intruding and all
that but I’m sick and tired of being stuck in the house all day. Thought I’d
come out for a bit of fresh air.’ Hallam’s sudden appearance made both of them
jump. Rose wondered how much of their conversation he had heard. He must have
heard them talking about Josephine. She felt her cheeks going red just thinking
about it. Hallam must have noticed.

‘Sorry,
I am intruding on you two lovebirds, aren’t I? I say, this hasn’t been much of
a weekend for you, has it?’

‘It
hasn’t been much of a weekend for anyone, old man,’ said Cedric, sympathetically.

‘No it
hasn’t. Damn Sneddon, why did he have to get himself killed here? Why couldn’t
he have got himself murdered in London? Oh, I know I sound heartily callous and
all that, but it’s not as if any of us liked him, is it? It’s terribly hard to
be sad when one couldn’t stand the man. The servants didn’t think too much of
his valet either, from what Sidney told me. Old Crabtree didn’t trust him with
the silver and they generally seem to have thought that he was up to no good.’

‘Even
so,’ said Cedric, ‘It’s a jolly rum old thing to have happened.’

Cedric,
Rose thought, looked taken aback and slightly appalled at the blasé way in
which the young man was treating the murders. Rose herself thought that it was
a coping mechanism. But then again, was it? Cedric knew Hallam better than she
did and he was visibly disturbed by what he had just heard the boy say. And she
remembered how she had put together quite a case in her head for how the boy
might have been the murderer, might in a fit of anger have killed Sneddon to
protect his sisters, as he would have seen it. Of course, it all boiled down to
that scar of Josephine’s, she thought. The evidence of a vicious, impulsive
streak. It would have taken a great deal of force and anger to cause such a wound,
especially considering it had been done by a child. She remembered how
Josephine had spoken about it, how embarrassed and ashamed she had been,
particularly on behalf of her brother.

She
remembered the very words Josephine had said as she tried to dismiss the event
as insignificant, as childish high spirits that had got out of hand. She
remembered… that was it! She remembered suddenly what Josephine had actually
said and not what she had thought she meant because, of course, they were two
completely different things! Oh how stupid she had been. It was significant,
she knew it was. And in that moment, as she stopped walking abruptly, much to
the surprise of both Cedric and Hallam who almost walked into her, she knew she
was going to solve this case because she had suddenly recognised the first
clue. She had something to latch on to.

It all
focused around Josephine, Rose felt sure now. Sneddon and his servant were only
indirectly involved. If she concentrated her efforts on finding out what
Josephine was hiding then she would discover the truth and the identity of the
person who had carried out the murders, she was sure of it. She sighed. She was
sitting in a chair in the billiard room, appearing outwardly to the casual
observer to be engrossed in her copy of the
Woman’s Weekly
magazine.
Inwardly, however, her mind was whirring. Oh, how she wished Cedric wasn’t
being so over protective as to insist that she not be out of his sight for a
moment. And so, while she was trying to concentrate on working everything out,
she was constantly being put off by the noise of one or other of Cedric or
Hallam either hitting the cue balls or exclaiming when they missed a shot.

But how
wonderful that Cedric should be so concerned about her safety. The knowledge
gave her hope that, after this was all over there was still the possibility of
a future together, there was still ….. But no, she must not think about that
now. Her priority was to find out the murderer before he or she struck again.
She shivered. This murderer was particularly dangerous, she thought. In the
claustrophobic, stifling air in the house she could feel it. He would think
nothing of killing again. Perhaps he had even developed a taste for death,
after all one read of such things.

As far
as she was concerned everything had happened on the Saturday. Indeed, so much
had happened yesterday that it was hard to believe that today was only Sunday.
And of course there had even been another murder. Now how had Saturday started
….? She had had breakfast and arranged to meet Josephine in the gardens later
so that she might fill her in on Sneddon’s exploits with the maid which had had
such tragic consequences. Then of course there had been the business in the
library. But no, something else had happened before then, something she had
completely forgotten about.

She
looked up. Cedric and Hallam appeared engrossed in their game of billiards. She
wondered if they would notice if she slipped out of the room for a moment. She
must find Crabtree. She must ask him. She looked around desperately, trying to
think up an excuse that would enable her to leave without them insisting on
following her.

It
seemed then, just as she was quite sure that she could not think of anything,
that her very wish to see the butler had been so strong as to draw him to her,
as if she had summoned him by ringing the bell. For suddenly he was standing
before her informing them that, due to the interviews having run on, it was the
master’s intention that a late luncheon-cum-early afternoon tea be taken in the
dining room in half an hour or so. Crabtree turned as if about to go but before
he could vacate the room she was upon him. Part of her even was desperate
enough to want to tug at his sleeve to get his attention.

‘Crabtree,
Mr Crabtree, please. May I have a quick word with you before you go?’

‘Of
course, miss, how may I be of service?’ If he was surprised by the eagerness in
her voice, he did not show it.

‘Yesterday
morning Miss Josephine was quite anxious about a letter that she was expecting
but which hadn’t come. I believe she asked you to send a boy over to the post
office to check that it had not been mislaid?’

‘Yes,
miss.’

‘Did he
find it there? Did he have any luck?’

‘No,
miss. The letter was not at the post office.’

‘Had
she been waiting on the letter long?’

‘Yes,
miss. She was always sure it would arrive the next day, but it never did.’ Rose
noticed that he was beginning to eye her rather curiously. Likewise, when she
looked up she found that both Cedric and Hallam were interested to know why she
had detained the butler.

‘You
must think this awfully strange, all my questions about Miss Josephine’s letter
I mean,’ she said quickly, lowering her voice slightly to avoid being overheard.
‘It’s just that she mentioned that she was awaiting a letter about some fancy
dress outfit she had ordered. She recommended the place to me and I’m awfully
afraid that I have quite forgotten its name. I don’t like to trouble her at a
time like this. I understand she is feeling a little unwell. I was hoping she
might have mentioned its name to you.’

‘No,
miss,’ Crabtree said, relaxing. ‘All she said to me, miss, was that she was
awaiting an important letter from London. I’m glad it was only about a fancy
dress costume. She seemed terribly anxious about it, not like her at all, miss.’

A
letter from London, so Josephine had been lying to her! She had told her she
was awaiting a letter from a local shop. And yes, Crabtree was right, she had
been very upset, frantic even. She had even insisted that the boot boy be sent
to the post office to check for the letter. She had been most insistent on the
matter, if Rose recalled correctly. How very out of character it had been. It
was more the sort of thing Isabella would have done. And she remembered even at
the time she had not believed the letter to be just about a fancy dress costume,
as Josephine had claimed it to be. It had been the first excuse Josephine could
think of, she was sure, being caught on the spot as she had been with Rose’s
sudden appearance in the hall while she was interrogating the butler. Josephine
had been embarrassed and flustered and had realised at once that she came
across as such. Indeed, she had made reference to her agitated state, said that
Rose must be thinking she was making a silly song and dance about it. And she
had tried to explain it away, pretended that the letter had only been about a
trivial matter when really it had been about something important, something so
important that its failure to arrive had left her on the verge of tears.

Crabtree,
deciding his presence was no longer required, had left the room. Rose meanwhile
was thinking furiously. Josephine had been waiting anxiously for a letter, the
contents of which were so important to her that she had refused to accept that the
letter had not been sent, preferring to believe that it had been lost in the
post rather than never written. And she had deliberately tried to hide from Rose
what it was about and that it had come from London. The eagerly awaited letter
from London had never arrived and, on the very same day that Josephine had been
questioning Crabtree as to its possible whereabouts and the action to be taken
to try and retrieve it, she had run off to London in the dead of night. The two
things must be connected. It was too much of a coincidence if they were not.
But there must be something else, Rose decided, to make her act so impulsively
and irrationally, traits that one did not usually associate with Josephine. So it
had certainly been a contributory factor in Josephine’s sudden departure, but
not the overriding one, Rose decided on reflection. There must have been
something else that had made her decide to up and leave when she did, the house
being full of her family and guests as it was. And she mustn’t forget that
Josephine had been prepared to forsake Dareswick forever, to steal out into the
night, never to return. For she had taken with her a suitcase of practical
clothes and jewellery that could be sold or pawned when times were bad.