A Death in the Wedding Party (18 page)

Read A Death in the Wedding Party Online

Authors: Caroline Dunford

Fortunately, Merry was quickly located and we all entered Bertram’s room together.

‘How are you feeling?’ I asked.

‘I’ll live,’ said Bertram, ‘but I feel dammed weak. Blasted doctor says I need plenty of bed rest. Now tell me everything the police said!’

‘Is that a good idea?’ I queried. ‘They were keen you were not to be disturbed due to your indisposition.’

‘Blast and damn it!’ spat Bertram. ‘I will work myself into far more of a state if I don’t know what’s going on. Where are you going, man? Sit down. This is a council of war.’

Merry has been serving the Stapleford’s far longer than I, but she was sitting twisted her apron in her lap and looking decidedly uncomfortable. Rory was generally glowering. I decided the best course of action to bring us all together was to explain my interview in depth along with the suspicions the chief inspector was now harbouring about suicide.

‘That’s ridiculous.’ Rory was the first to protest. ‘There is no way Lady Stapleford would have taken her own life.’

‘Of course it is,’ said Bertram. ‘The man’s trying to find an easy way out like Euphemia implied. The Earl must have been calling in all his connections and they must have made it very clear to Brownly that he needed to be out of here quick.’

Merry opened her mouth to speak, then lowered her head and started twisting her apron again. ‘What is it?’ I encouraged her. That apron would be in bits in a minute. ‘It doesn’t make any sense, her killing herself. I did what Euphemia asked and found out about the evening drinks. It’s a maid called Lucy what does them and she clearly remembers going into Lady Stapleford’s room and handing her drink to her.’ Once she started speaking the words didn’t stop. ‘Lucy said as how she was right scared of going in to the Royalty’s room so she thought she’d warm up, as it were, on the Staplefords, only Richenda didn’t reply to the knock on her door. Lady Stapleford told her to come in, but then was so fizzingly angry, not with Lucy, from what she says, but obviously in a rare mood, she was throwing clothes and cushions all over the place. Lucy was so scared. She put the cup down and fled. She didn’t dare knock on your door afterwards, Euphemia, and just left the cup outside your door even though she knew she’d be on a warning if anything was mentioned to Mrs Merion or Mr Robbins. And I don’t reckon how someone who was that angry would be thinking to take their own life, do you? Sounds like she was in such a taking she’d be more likely to do someone else in, begging your pardon Mr Bertram, I mean I know your mother was no killer. I just meant it to show I don’t see how she could possibly have harmed herself. It just weren’t like her and it weren’t like her mood that night.’ At this point Merry ran out of air and fell back to twisting her apron. I swatted at her hands to stop her. This made her actually look at what she had been doing. ‘Oh Lor’, I’ve ruined it! I’ll be in such trouble.’

‘I’ll buy you a score,’ said Bertram. ‘I shall get McLeod to ensure this Lucy speaks to the police. It’s not definite proof, but it’s something in our – and my mother’s favour.’

‘But if she took the cup herself,’ I said, ‘how did the poison get into it?’

‘It means it must have been added in the kitchen,’ said Rory.

‘Or while it was on the tray stand,’ said Merry. ‘They have these little tray rests at just outside the servant’s stair entrance onto the bedroom floors. It’s so the maids can put down the tray and take the cups individually to the rooms.’

‘If it’s outside the stair it would be too risky,’ I said. ‘Whoever did this couldn’t be sure they wouldn’t be seen.’

‘Whoever did this is a risk taker by the nature of the crime,’ said Bertram, ‘but I agree it would be all too easy to run into the maid. Unless, of course, they were prepared to kill her too, but then no one would think it was suicide.’

‘I don’t believe the killer cared about that,’ said Rory thoughtfully, ‘Whoever did this must have put the poison in the cup when it was in the kitchen. At that time of night the staff are either cleaning the dishes, polishing the silver, or waiting on those retiring. A very, very few will be at leisure. The cook would be probably resting in her room.’

‘And the trays are left out in the kitchen,’ said Merry, ‘but the washing and polishing is done elsewhere.’

‘So for someone who knew the house it would be possible to sneak in and put poison in the cup, but still risky. The biggest risk would be after the poison was added. If they were caught before they could make up some excuse and abort the task.’

‘So this isn’t a murder that was planned before we came here,’ said Bertram. ‘It was something decided on once we arrived at the Court. Which means something changed after we got here.’

‘But wait a moment,’ I said, ‘before we go there. How did the murderer know the right cup to poison? Are they individually labelled?’

‘No,’ said Merry. ‘Lucy said how they are put out for each maid and each maid takes a floor on a wing. For the morning tea, milk and sugar are added at the tray stand, but for the cocoa at night they are all poured from the one jug on the tray. They try to keep it hot for as long as possible.’

‘That means the poison was in the cup not the jug,’ said Rory.

‘Does it?’ I asked. ‘I never found my drink because it was left outside and Richenda didn’t open her door. Merry said she had to remake her drink as it had gone cold.’

Merry raised her hand to her mouth. ‘Then it might have been meant to kill all of you,’ she said, horrified.

‘Well, that would have certainly stopped the wedding,’ said Bertram.

‘Wait a minute,’ said Rory, ‘that doesnae make sense. If three ladies had died Earl’s residence or no, we would have had police crawling all over the place. It would be a national headline event.’

‘Food poisoning,’ said Bertram.

Rory shook his head, ‘No, I reckon they would have investigated every single pot and pan in the place. The murderer might be reckless, but it would be guy stupid to count on the police passing over three deaths.’

‘You’re right, McLeod,’ said Bertram. ‘We’re no further on.’

‘Oh dear God,’ I said under my breath. My face must have been a picture of horror, because despite his mood Rory laid a comforting hand on my shoulder. ‘ Don’t you see,’ I said, ‘that means the killer couldn’t be certain who would get the poisoned cup. He didn’t care which one of us died. He simply wanted either Richenda, Lady Stapleford or I to die.’

Chapter Twenty-eight
A Monster Among Us

‘But that’s monstrous,’ said Bertram.

‘Unless it was Richenda,’ said Merry. ‘If she knew one of the cups was poisoned, then leaving it to get cold and having me make another one was a masterstroke.’

‘By that token you could equally say it was me,’ I said.

‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ said Bertram, ‘we know it wasn’t you.’ It was a calm, quiet statement of fact, but said with an expression of total trust in his eyes. I felt quite emotional.

‘Are we no overlooking the bell?’ said Rory. ‘Yon polis said it were working. And Robbins said it were tested before the guests arrived.’

‘So whoever murdered my mother went into her room and disconnected it after we arrived?’

‘Another guy risky manoeuvre,’ said Rory.

‘Unless,’ I said, ‘it was someone who would not be thought to be odd if they were found in her room.’

‘You mean like me,’ said Merry. ‘Cos I didn’t do it.’

‘We know that,’ I said, ‘but perhaps another servant or …’

‘Richenda,’ said Rory.

‘Or Richard,’ said Bertram.

‘Or you,’ said Merry, ‘but we know you didn’t do it.’

Bertram patted Merry’s hand making her blush. ‘That’s sweet of you to say, Merry, but the truth is that although we all trust that each other didn’t do this terrible thing it seems as hard to prove that as it to find the real culprit.’

‘Could you try asking Richenda what that row was about, Merry?’ I asked.

‘I’ll try,’ said Merry, ‘but you never know with her what kind of mood she’ll be in. One minute it’s all have these lovely gloves they’ll be good for your day off the next she’s throwing a lamp at me.’

‘Sounds like she and Tipton are well-suited,’ I said.

‘What,’ said Bertram, ‘Baggy’s a nasty wee runt I’ll give you that, but I’ve never known him to raise his hand in anger.’

Rory and I exchanged looks. ‘That has not been our experience, sir,’ he said carefully. ‘The maid at Stapleford Hall who didn’t fetch him hot enough shaving water certainly bore the brunt of his anger.’

‘Really?’ said Bertram more intrigued than annoyed at our revelation. ‘I always thought the little blighter had no backbone. Mind you, he did propose to Richenda. Not many men would do that.’

Merry had been scowling fiercely. ‘If they didn’t mind which one of the ladies they killed, what was their reason?’

‘Killing any of us would have stopped the wedding,’ I said.

‘So who wanted that?’ asked Rory.

We all looked helplessly at each other. ‘You said there was an argument between Tipton and Richard that night. What was that about?’

‘It was very late and they were both extremely drunk,’ said Bertram. ‘They were slurring their words so much I think only they would understand each other. I certainly couldn’t.’

‘But something must have happened to make Tipton go downstairs again,’ I said. ‘He looked in on the ladies to say goodnight and proposition Merry. He was in a jolly mood.’

‘They only thing I know that happened,’ said Merry, ‘is the catfight between Richenda and Lady S. I can ask around the servants’ hall and see if anyone knows anything else. The maids are all right little gossips.’

‘You’re all missing the point,’ said Rory suddenly, ‘the murderer hasn’t got what he or she wanted. The wedding is merely postponed.’

‘You mean they might try again?’ said Merry nervously.

‘They already did. With me,’ I said.

‘What?’ said Bertram.

‘Someone attacked me in my room,’ I said shortly, neither wanting to remember it nor upset Bertram.

‘Euphemia, what happened?’

Rory ignored him. ‘If that was the same person,’ said Rory, ‘then it’s not Richenda because it was a man who attacked you. But if it is the same person who poisoned Lady Stapleford then we know it’s someone desperate.’

‘And as the wedding approaches they are only going to get more desperate,’ said Bertram.

‘Oh, my Gawd,’ said Merry. ‘That means none of us is safe and those bleeding policemen are being about as useful as a hot water bottle made from a sieve!’

‘I think we have to presume it is the same person or someone working with the poisoner. I’m sorry, Bertram, it could be both your half-brother and half-sister.’

‘No,’ said Bertram, ‘I’ve known them long enough to know that while they may when cornered back each other up, generally their plans don’t align.’

‘Could they be cornered right now?’ asked Rory.

‘Richenda is desperate to marry Tipton,’ I said. ‘I saw the way she accepted his proposal.’

A smile curled Rory’s lips, ‘It was certainly forceful!’

‘Then we’re back almost where we started. We need to find out the substance of the arguments.’

‘Then that’s what we must do,’ I said. ‘We must also take great care.’ The other three nodded solemnly though I knew they were thinking like me how much more care could we take?

Bertram sank back against his pillows, and with one accord we began to edge out of the room. ‘We’ll get no further here,’ said Rory. ‘But if we find out anything we’ll be back to tell you.’ Merry curtsied and muttered something. Bertram caught me by the arm, ‘Wait one moment, Euphemia.’ Merry hesitated by the door. ‘She’ll only be a minute,’ urged Bertram. When she had shut the door behind her he pulled me down gently to sit beside him. ‘I’ve always known you were someone special,’ he said, ‘but the last few days have shown me that regardless of who your parents might be, you are a lady and must be treated as such. There can be no question of you returning to either my estate or Stapleford Hall as a housekeeper.’

I disentangled his fingers from my sleeve. ‘There is no question that I must earn my living to provide for my mother and little brother,’ I said firmly, but without anger.

‘Something must be done,’ said Bertram. ‘You belong above stairs. You belong with me.’ The effort of saying this sapped the last of his strength. He was quite breathless at the end of his little speech. ‘Come,’ I said softly, ‘rest. We can discuss this when you are well.’

‘Damn,’ said Bertram. ‘I hate being this ill. I hate you seeing me so weak.’

‘I have never thought of you as weak,’ I said, ‘and I don’t believe I ever will. Please sleep now before we damage my reputation beyond repair.’

Bertram waved feebly at the door indicating he wouldn’t stop me leaving. ‘This discussion is not over,’ he murmured as I left, but by the time I closed the door he had sunk into a deep slumber.

Outside I found Rory waiting for me. ‘This way,’ he said brusquely, and more or less shoved me into a side room. It was a dressing boudoir, but from the dust sheets spread around the room, clearly not currently in use. ‘I’ve spoken to Fitzroy,’ he said.

‘Oh good. Did you persuade him to help us? He wouldn’t listen to me.’

‘He was only interested in getting me to sign this official secrets document. He said domestic murder didn’t interest him.’ Rory spoke with an obvious sneer.

I sat down on a covered chair throwing up a little pile of dust. ‘Oh dear, I thought he might have listened to you.’

‘That man never listened to me,’ said Rory sharply, ‘but he doesnae know you’ve been attacked.’

‘I expect he would say it was my own fault for getting tangled up in other people’s affairs.’ I sighed. ‘He is a most annoying man. If he wasn’t as dangerous I’d give him a piece of my mind.’

Rory knelt down in front of me and took my hands. ‘It costs me a lot to say this Euphemia, but if you go to him and tell him what has happened to you he will help. I know he will. I hate to admit it but we need him. You are in too much danger.’

‘Why would he help now?’ I asked bewildered.

‘Have you looked in the mirror?’ asked Rory. ‘You were always guy bonnie to me, but you’re a beautiful woman and a lady without question. There’s no man in this house who would not consider it an honour to protect you.’

Other books

The Red and the Black by Stendhal, Horace B. Samuel
Meeting Max by Richard Brumer
Gosford's Daughter by Mary Daheim
12 Rose Street by Gail Bowen
Death Mask by Graham Masterton
The Princess of Trelian by Michelle Knudsen
House of the Sun by Meira Chand
The Crime at Black Dudley by Margery Allingham
Wanderlove by Belle Malory