The Mystery at Underwood House (An Angela Marchmont Mystery) (4 page)

‘
We used to bathe here in the summer as children,’ said Stella as they followed the path through the woods, ducking under branches and jumping over tree roots. ‘All of us cousins, I mean. I’m not a blood relation of the Hayneses, of course, but I used to come and stay with Aunt Louisa during the holidays. Here we are.’

The trees fell away and they emerged into a little pebbled cove that sloped down to a small lake, completely surrounded by trees. Before them was an old landing-stage in a state of some disrepair, to which an equally dilapidated rowing-boat was attached by a frayed rope.

‘
Is that the boat?’ asked Mrs. Marchmont.

‘
Yes,’ said Stella.

‘
Then let us take a closer look.’

The three of them walked along the landing-stage.

‘
Not much to see, really,’ said Guy as they stared down at the craft, which bobbed gently below them.

‘
No,’ said Angela, ‘and I imagine the police have already examined it closely for evidence—finger-prints and what-not.’

‘
Yes, they did,’ said Stella.

‘
Did they find anything?’

‘
If they did, they didn’t tell us.’

‘
I’m sure they would have said something if they had,’ said Guy.

They returned to the shore.

‘
What happened that evening, exactly?’ asked Angela.

Guy and Stella looked at each other.

‘
Nobody knows,’ said Guy. ‘But I do know it started with a big row between John and Edward after dinner.’

‘
But it wasn’t just those two, was it?’ said Stella. ‘I mean, they started it, but then Ursula joined in, and Susan, and Don, and before we knew it they were all in the middle of the most terrific ding-dong.’

‘
Was that unusual?’

‘
They didn’t generally get as heated, but I wouldn’t say it was
unusual
as such.’

‘
No,’ agreed Guy. ‘The Hayneses have always been fond of a good, healthy falling-out.’

‘
And then Edward said he wasn’t going to stand for it any longer, and stormed out,’ continued Stella. ‘We thought he’d gone to his room, but as it turned out he must have left the house.’

‘
I don’t know what got into him,’ said Guy. ‘It was freezing cold that night.’

‘
He wasn’t found until the next day, I understand,’ said Angela.

‘
Yes,’ said Stella. ‘We had been searching all morning and found nothing. Then somebody spotted that the boat had somehow floated loose, so Uncle John got some of the men to drag the lake. That was when they discovered his body.’

‘
How long had he been dead?’

‘
The doctor couldn’t tell exactly. “Somewhere between twelve and eighteen hours,” was all he would say.

‘
Hmm. That’s vague enough, anyhow,’ said Angela. ‘He could have died at any time after he went out or even during the night, presumably. Alibis won’t be of much help in that case.’

‘
Yes, we were all coming and going that evening,’ said Guy. ‘I certainly couldn’t tell you what anyone was doing at any particular time. Frankly, I’m not even sure what I was doing myself.’

‘
You were present at dinner, then?’

‘
Yes,’ said Guy. ‘I usually dine with the family.’

‘
Oh yes—we simply can’t bear to be without him, you know,’ said Stella mockingly. She sat down on a fallen tree trunk and pulled off her cap. The early May sunshine glinted off her golden hair as she stared absently out at the lake. Angela glanced towards Guy and caught him gazing intently at the girl. He saw her watching him and looked away, reddening.

They were all silent for a while, each lost in his own thoughts. Then Angela turned and looked at the boat.

‘
If I wanted to drown someone deliberately in the lake, how would I go about it?’ she asked.

They all considered the question. Guy was the first to speak.

‘
If it were I, I should catch him unawares in the shallows and hold him under,’ he said.

‘
But then how did he end up in the middle of the lake?’

‘
Perhaps, knowing Edward couldn’t swim, the killer simply took him out in the boat and pushed him overboard,’ suggested Stella.

Angela shook her head.

‘
Rather a dangerous approach on the part of a murderer, don’t you think, to rely on his victim’s incompetence?’ she said. ‘What if it turned out that Edward could swim a little after all? At least, well enough to get back to the shore? And besides, if it
was
true that he loathed the water, then he would never have gone out onto the lake willingly. There would have been a struggle.’

‘
That’s true,’ conceded Stella. ‘Well then, he must have been dead or at least unconscious when he was put in the boat. But why did the killer take him out into the middle of the lake?’

‘
To make it look like an accident, of course,’ said Guy. ‘Don’t you agree, Mrs. Marchmont?’

‘
Yes, that seems the most likely answer,’ replied Angela. ‘Assuming all three deaths are connected, then whoever was responsible has taken some care to make them look accidental.’ She walked slowly back towards the jetty, trying to imagine the scene. ‘Very well, let’s say he was drowned here by the shore, and that whoever killed him then bundled him into the boat, rowed him out into the middle of the lake and threw him overboard,’ she said. ‘How did the murderer return to shore?’

‘
Must he necessarily have gone out in the boat with Edward?’ asked Stella. ‘Perhaps he merely put the body in the boat and set it loose.’ She shook her head and laughed. ‘Oh! How silly of me—someone had to be there to throw him overboard, of course.’

‘
Yes,’ agreed Angela. ‘If it
was
murder, then someone went out on the lake with him, alive or dead.’

‘
He must have swum back to shore,’ said Guy. ‘Or perhaps there was another boat.’

‘
Are
there any other boats hereabouts?’ asked Stella.

‘
Not that I know of,’ admitted Guy.

‘
Then whoever it was must have returned to the house drenched.’

‘
And with chattering teeth too,’ said Guy feelingly. ‘The water is as cold as ice.’

‘
Yes, I think we must look for someone who arrived back at the house with wet clothes,’ said Angela.

‘
Not necessarily,’ said Stella. ‘It would make much more sense for him to strip before going out in the boat, and leave his clothes by the shore.’

‘
Ye-es,’ said Angela. She looked as though she were about to say something else, but thought better of it.

Guy picked up a pebble and aimed it idly at the boat. It glanced off a rowlock and entered the water with a gentle splash.

‘
Supposing it was an accident,’ said Angela. ‘Let us assume that for some reason Edward acted so far out of character as to go out voluntarily in a rowing-boat on a cold night. Why did he do it?’

‘
Perhaps as a means of calming down and collecting his thoughts,’ said Stella. ‘Some people like to work off a bad temper with vigorous exercise.’

‘
Was he the type?’

‘
I shouldn’t have said so, but people are odd. Sometimes they do totally unexpected things.’

‘
How did the accident happen, then?’

‘
That’s easy enough,’ said Guy. ‘If he really was such a duffer on the water then he probably went out dragging the painter behind him or something, then when it got tangled up in weeds he fell overboard and drowned while trying to free it.’

‘
There’s something in that,’ agreed Angela. She looked absently down at the ground, turning over the various possibilities in her head.

‘
I’ve always thought this was such a pretty spot,’ said Stella, ‘but it’s been spoilt now. I shall never look at it in the same way again.’ She stood up and shivered. ‘Let’s go back to the house.’

‘
My shoe-buckle has come undone,’ said Angela suddenly. She bent over to fasten it, then gave an impatient exclamation. ‘I think it might be broken. Do go ahead. I shall catch you up.’

Angela busied herself with her shoe as Guy and Stella disappeared into the woods. As soon as they were out of sight she straightened up and went cautiously over to the fallen tree trunk. Something was sticking out a little way from a crack underneath it. With a little difficulty she succeeded in extracting the thing carefully and brushed the dirt off it. She stared at it, puzzled. Although it was damp and faded and part of it was torn away, it was unmistakably a photograph of a pretty young woman. The picture had evidently been trapped in the crevice of the tree trunk for some time, and was so damaged that it was impossible to judge how old it was, but Angela guessed it had been taken some years ago. Just for a moment she thought she recognized the face, but then almost instantly the impression was gone and she shook her head.

She heard the others calling her and, recollecting herself, thrust the picture in her pocket and hurried after them. Was the photograph connected to this business? If so, how? And who was the woman?

‘
There’s Uncle John,’ said Stella as they reached the lawn.

John Haynes was a bluff, hearty-looking man with greying hair and moustache. He hailed them jovially.

‘
Ah, there you are, Angela,’ he said. ‘Louisa said I should find you out here somewhere. She’s still clinging to this nonsense about Edward. I told her not to listen to Ursula—the woman is mad, quite frankly—got a ridiculous bee in her bonnet—but she went ahead and called you anyway. Have you been down to the lake? What do you think of Underwood?’

Angela duly expressed her admiration of the house and grounds and he nodded complacently.

‘
Yes, it’s a pleasant spot, isn’t it? I know it’s not the fashion to be sentimental, but I must confess I love the old place. The others wanted to get rid of it, you know, said it was a millstone around all our necks, but I—well, I could never agree to sell it, however much it costs to keep it up. Ha! They can’t make me sell now, can they? Not now they’re dead. But you won’t dig up anything, I can promise you that. Poor Philippa had been ill for years—heart trouble, you know, and Winifred always was a batty old trout—just the type to break her neck through her own carelessness.’

He broke off from this startling outburst to shout to a large retriever that was nosing around in some undergrowth.

‘
Does the house belong wholly to you now?’ asked Angela.

John Haynes made a noise that sounded like ‘harrumph’.

‘
Not wholly, no. I got Philippa to leave me her share in her will. Promised to think about selling if she did. Silly old fool—can’t think why she believed me. Susan and Ursula inherited a quarter share each after Winifred and Edward died, but between you and me I’m pretty sure I shall come to an agreement with Susan—her mother gave all her money to spiritualist societies and educational institutions for deserving orphans, that kind of thing, so Susan was left flat broke. Ursula hasn’t a leg to stand on. She can whistle for it if she likes, but unless she agrees to sell her share to me it’s all so much gas.’

‘
I take it, then, that you don’t believe the deaths were anything but natural.’

John snorted.

‘
Of course they were natural! Any half-wit can see that. Why my wife should take it into her head to believe anything that woman says is beyond me, but there you have it—she’s allowed herself to be influenced and now she sees shadowy figures with raised daggers behind every gate-post.’

‘
But don’t you think it odd that your brother should choose to go out on the lake on a freezing winter’s night? Especially when, by all accounts, he loathed the water.’

‘
So Ursula says. I can’t say I remember his having such a hatred of it. If you ask me, it’s perfectly natural that a man in a huff should decide to work it off with a turn on the lake. It’s what I should do myself.’

‘
I understand that nobody was present at either of your sisters’ deaths.’

‘
Not that I know of. In Philippa’s case, she simply went to bed and didn’t get up again. I missed all the excitement with Winifred. I gather she came down with quite a thud.’

‘
Uncle!’ said Stella reproachfully.

John Haynes looked sheepish.

‘
Well, I dare say that was in poor taste, but it’s no use pretending there was any love lost between Winifred and Edward and me, although I was rather fond of Philippa.’

‘
Louisa said you were in your study when Winifred fell,’ said Angela.

‘
Yes. I was in the middle of something and didn’t take any notice of the row for a bit. Eventually I couldn’t ignore it any longer and I came out to find out what in heaven’s name was going on, only to find the old girl sprawled out on the hall floor with her neck snapped in two and everybody running in fifty directions at once.’

‘
I see,’ said Angela.

‘
Perhaps Robin will be able to tell you something more about it,’ said Guy. ‘He was found bending over Winifred’s body, so he must have been the first to arrive.’

‘
Yes, he or Donald,’ said Angela.

‘
Ah, Stella, that reminds me,’ said John. ‘What’s all this I hear about a disagreement between you and Don?’

Stella scowled.

‘
It’s none of your business,’ she snapped. ‘But seeing as I shan’t be speaking to him ever again you may tell him from me that he’s a horrid pig.’

Guy raised his eyebrows.

‘
I say,’ he said. ‘Poor Don.’

‘
Never mind “poor Don,”’ said Stella. ‘I’m the one who’s had to put up with him and his beastly moods. Well, that’s all over now. He can find some other silly girl to follow him around. I shan’t be taken in by him again.’

She turned on her heel and stalked off.

‘
Too bad,’ said Guy, gazing after her. ‘I wonder what it’s all about this time. Her work again, I shouldn’t wonder.’

‘
Her work?’ said Angela. ‘Louisa said she is a nurse.’

‘
Yes, and a very fine one too if what I hear is true,’ replied the young man. ‘She wanted to be a doctor, but her father wouldn’t hear of any daughter of his doing that kind of thing, so she was forced to be content with nursing. Don would like her to give it up after they get married but she doesn’t want to. It’s caused plenty of rows between them, I can tell you. They’re each as stubborn as the other.’

‘
Damn’ silly quarrels,’ said John. ‘He ought to keep his mouth shut and give her her head. That’s the way to get round a woman. Let her think she has the upper hand and she’ll be as quiet as you like. But just try to forbid her from doing something and you’ll know about it! Ten to one she’ll decide to give it up anyway once the children come along. I shall have to have a word with him when he returns—make him see what he’s about. Stella’s a good girl, and he’d be a fool to let her slip through his fingers.’

‘
I’m sure he’ll come round,’ said Guy. ‘I’ll bet my life on it.’

There was a wistful expression on his face as he said it, which did not go unnoticed by Angela.

They left John and walked up to the house together.

‘
Did you find any clues?’ asked Louisa eagerly as they entered the drawing-room.

‘
Not exactly,’ said Angela. ‘But then, I didn’t expect to after all this time.’

‘
No, I suppose not,’ said Louisa. ‘It all happened weeks ago now, and it rained for the whole of April, so any evidence will have been destroyed long ago.’

‘
Yes, but I have a better picture of events in my head now, so it was useful in that regard at any rate.’

‘
Have—have you reached any conclusions?’ asked Louisa hesitantly.

‘
No, but I haven’t spoken to everyone. I have yet to meet Ursula.’

‘
You’re going to speak to Ursula, are you?’ said Guy. He grinned maliciously. ‘I’m sure you’ll find her a
very
interesting person. Robin, too.’

Louisa threw him a reproving look.

‘
Old Dick Trent was looking for you earlier,’ she said. ‘He said something about the bull getting into the lane and taking all the cows with it. Perhaps you ought to go and speak to him.’

Guy’s features twisted into a grimace of comical horror.

‘
Oh Lord,’ he said. ‘Not again. That bull is the bane of my life. I swear I could work two mornings a week and spend the rest of the time fishing if it weren’t for that dratted animal.’

He saluted Angela and left.

‘
He’s a great help to us,’ said Louisa, ‘but sometimes he needs just a
little
reminder to get on with his work.’

Angela laughed.

‘
Like most young men, I imagine,’ she said. ‘He is rather young to have charge of the whole estate, isn’t he?’

‘
Yes, he is, but he knows the place inside and out. Philip found him about ten years ago. He’d just come down from Oxford—he was a scholarship boy, you know, and terribly clever. He won prizes for his studies, as well as for boxing, cricket, swimming and all kinds of other sports.’

‘
Quite the all-rounder,’ observed Angela. ‘What did he mean about Ursula? I must say, I am growing more and more curious to meet her.’

Mrs. Haynes laughed.

‘
You shall, my dear. She and Robin live in Datchet.’

‘
Then to Datchet I must go,’ said Angela. ‘Oh, I almost forgot.’ She brought out the photograph. ‘Do you recognize this?’

Louisa took the picture and looked at it, mystified.

‘
No, I can’t say I do. She’s rather pretty, in an old-fashioned kind of way. Who is she?’

‘
I have no idea. I found it down by the lake just now.’

‘
Do you think it has something to do with all this? Is it a clue?’

‘
I don’t know,’ said Angela, ‘but I should very much like to find out.’

She took leave of her friend and left the house. She was heading for the gate when a thought suddenly struck her and she walked out onto the lawn and gazed at the upstairs windows.

‘
Still here?’ said John Haynes at her shoulder. ‘Haven’t you solved the mystery yet?’ He chuckled at his own wit. ‘No, and nor shall you. I should give it up if I were you—it’s all a waste of time, although very kind of you to offer to help Louisa, of course.’

‘
Well, we shall see,’ replied Angela pleasantly.

‘
What are you investigating now?’ he asked.

‘
Nothing,’ said Angela. ‘I was just wondering how your gardener proposes to subdue that ivy. Look, it will soon be halfway across that upstairs window.’

‘
Yes, I must get one of the younger men to see to it, although I’m afraid old Briggs will be dreadfully offended. He is failing now, and isn’t the man he was, but I let it slide as he’s a faithful old thing—been here since my father’s time, or even longer.’

‘
Whose room is that?’

‘
I’m not entirely sure. Donald’s, I think. Or is it the guest bedroom next door? It’s one or the other, anyhow.’

Angela was unable to pin him down to any more definite answer, so was forced to be content with that. She then took the photograph out of her pocket and showed it to him.

‘
Do you know who this is?’ she asked.

John stood stock still for a moment.

‘
Why, that’s—’ he began. There was a long pause. ‘Where did you say you found it?’

‘
At the little cove by the lake.’

‘
Oh? What odd things one finds in the strangest places these days.’

‘
Then you don’t recognize it?’

He shook his head.

‘
Can’t say I do. Perhaps it belongs to a servant or one of the tenants on the estate. Might have blown in from anywhere when you come to think about it. London, even!’ He laughed. ‘Well, goodbye.’

He strode away. Angela put the photograph in her bag, thinking hard. She was sure he had recognized the woman. Why, then, had he denied it?