A Mourning Wedding Page 6

  “Ah. Righty-ho, then, Mrs. Walsdorf it shall be. I’ll hand the list on to you, Inspector, when I’m done with it. Now I’m going to go and find a telephone elsewhere and leave you to finish your little chat with Mrs. Fletcher.”

  Turning, he bowed to Daisy with a wink which confirmed to her that his “London DCI” was indeed Alec. As he limped out, she wondered how Alec felt about his summons to Haverhill for a murder three days before he had been due to arrive for a wedding.

  Alec stood in the doorway of Lady Eva’s private sitting room in her house in Belgravia. His immediate impression was of luxury, brocades and velvets in rich colours, gleaming wood, thick-pile carpet, and everywhere photographs in silver frames.

  Beside him, Lady Eva’s housekeeper twittered on. “Yes, the house belongs to the Devenish family, but her ladyship lives here alone—lived, I should say. I can’t take it in she’s gone, and that’s a fact. Full of life, she was when last I saw her, looking forward to seeing Miss Lucy wed, that she’s so fond of. What a nasty business! I don’t know what the world’s coming to, really I don’t.”

  “The Devenishes visited often, I suppose?”

  “Well, not to say often. Sir James, that’s her ladyship’s son, he’s a countryman through and through, if you know what I mean. Mr. Edward, the young master, has his own flat in town he shares with friends, doesn’t care to live with his gran, well that’s natural, isn’t it? He came to tea now and then, not as often as she’d’ve liked, I dare say. Lady Devenish comes up for shopping, and of course the young ladies had their presentations—before the War that was—and all married well enough, saving Miss Angela.”

  “Miss Angela’s not married?”

  “Nor like to be. That’s why my lady left most of her own money to her, and some to Miss Lucy. She liked an independent spirit in a young lady, she’d tell me, long as everything was quite proper.”

  Dismayed to hear Lucy had a motive for doing in her great-aunt, Alec glanced back to see if Ernie Piper was taking notes. The young detective constable’s pencil was busy.

  “Much money, is there?”

  “No lack,” said the housekeeper complacently. “No fussing about the price of coal in this house, I’m glad to say. Besides the income the late Sir Granville left her ladyship, she has her own fortune from an aunt that married well and had no children. There’s a nice bit going to Miss Angela and Miss Lucy, and what’s left over to the young master. Of course the house belongs to the master, Sir James. Part of the estate it is.”

  “Lady Eva seems to have confided in you a good deal.”

  “Bless you, sir, I’ve been with her ladyship thirty years. You can’t live with someone that long without you learn something of their affairs, whether you will or no. A word or two here and a word or two there, if you know what I mean. And no fussing about the price of coal, like I said. Lordy, Lordy, I can hardly believe she’s gone. There’ll be changes around here, for sure. I only hope Sir James won’t go and sell the house out from under me.”

  “Is that likely?”

  “He hasn’t got any use for it himself, and it’d bring a pretty penny, I don’t doubt.”

  “No doubt.” Alec gestured towards a large kneehole desk on the other side of the room. “Is that where Lady Eva kept her private papers?”

  “That’s right. Account book and receipts and cheque book top left, letters top right, everything in its place, she always says … said. The middle drawer’s just stationery and stamps and what-not. Second down, invitations on the right, and likely you’ll find a copy of her will on the left. The bottom drawers are locked. She keeps … kept her big notebooks there, that she was always scribbling in.”

  “Do you have a key, or know where she kept it?”

  “Not me, and no more does Miss Parsons that’s her maid,” the housekeeper said warily. “‘It’s Pandora’s box,’ her ladyship said once to Miss Parsons, ‘or rather, two Pandora’s boxes. If anyone but me opens them, there’s nothing but Trouble going to fly out, like in the old story. The key’s in a safe place and nobody’s going to find it.’”

  “Thank you, madam. You’ve been very helpful. Perhaps you wouldn’t mind going downstairs now with Sergeant Tring and answering a few more questions, names and addresses, that sort of thing, just for the record?”

  “I’ll bet you’ve got a good memory,” Tom Tring said jovially. “I’ve never known a housekeeper that didn’t.”

  She went off with him quite willingly. On hearing that they were heading for the abode of an earl, Tom had changed out of his robin’s-egg blue-and-white check summer suit. In the dark suit he kept at the Yard for dealing with “the nobs,” he was the essence of respectability, as well as looking several sizes smaller. He’d have the housekeeper eating out of his hand in no time, in a way Alec couldn’t hope to match.

  Ernie Piper joined Alec at the desk. While Alec leafed through the contents of the second drawer on the left, Piper pulled the centre drawer all the way out and set it on the blotter on the desk-top. A twist and a click and he had in his hand a small brass key.

  “Too easy,” he said, disappointed, returning the wide, shallow drawer to its place. He went down on one knee to unlock and open the bottom drawer on the right.

  Alec peered into a large manilla envelope. “Here’s her will. What have you got there?”

  “Several loose-leaf ledgers. Arranged by alphabet and date, looks like.” Piper took out the first ledger, balanced it on his knee, flipped it open and started to read. “Whew! Looks like Mrs. Fletcher’s given us the goods again, Chief.”

  “The Met was brought into the case at Lord Haverhill’s request, nothing to do with Daisy,” Alec said firmly but without much belief in his own veracity. “She just happens to be at his house. I was going down on Friday anyway, so I’m the obvious person to send. Checking Lady Eva’s papers was the Chief Constable’s suggestion.”

  “I bet Mrs. Fletcher put him up to it.” Piper’s faith in Daisy was boundless. “How would he know what her ladyship was up to? Listen to this! ‘Teddy escorted Genevieve Rendell to a house-party at the Varleys’, not a month after her husband divorced her.’ Then there’s brackets with ‘see 1924 R.’ Must be another book.”

  “Who’s Teddy?”

  “No surname. Prob’ly one of the family. This book’s A to D, and Lady Eva’s a Devenish. Teddy’d be Edward, wouldn’t he? There wasn’t an Edward Devenish on the list the CC read to me over the ’phone.”

  Alec didn’t ask if he was sure. That was the sort of detail at which Ernie Piper excelled, and his fast, accurate shorthand was the reason he’d been put on the ’phone to take down the names of those staying at Haverhill.

  He looked at his watch. “Right-oh, there’s just time for Tom and me to catch the next train if we hurry, so we’ll leave you to it. You know what we want.”

  “Anything recent on anyone on the list …”

  “Six months, say.”

  “That looks like they might kill to keep it quiet.”

  “Yes, not the births, marriages and deaths, obviously.”

  “Shouldn’t be too hard if her system’s as simple as it looks.”

  “Good. Do a quick check around the house for anything else of interest, then come and join us. I gathered from the CC that the local inspector isn’t too happy about our being called in. If he won’t cooperate, we’ll have our work cut out for us.”

  On his way down to find Tom and the housekeeper, Alec contemplated with foreboding the investigation before him. An uncooperative local man would be merely an extra fly in the ointment. The aristocracy were always awkward to deal with, regarding the most innocuous questions as impertinence and expecting deference even as one delved into their sordid secrets. This time there was the added complication that in another few days he would have been the earl’s guest. He wondered whether Lord Haverhill had asked for him, rather than for any DCI the Met chose to send, because he expected special treatment.

  And then there was Daisy.


  Reaching the kitchen, where he found Tom Tring enjoying a cup of tea and a piece of pie, Alec gladly postponed consideration of Daisy’s place in the scheme of things.

  6

  When Daisy emerged from the library, a dozen people were lurking in the hall. They converged on her, all talking at once. Everyone knew that Alec was coming and everyone knew that Daisy had talked to the local police and everyone wanted to talk to her.

  Lord and Lady Carleton reached her first. Daisy had been introduced to them but she had never exchanged more than a few words with them and she had no idea where they came on the family tree.

  Lady Carleton clasped Daisy’s hand as if she were a long-lost friend. “Mrs. Fletcher, tell me they don’t really believe Aunt Eva’s death was murder! Some sort of horrible accident, I’m sure.”

  “I’m afraid not. There seems to be no question of anything but murder.” Even as she spoke, Daisy regretted it. She should have denied any inside knowledge and referred them to Inspector Crummle. Now all those crowding around would expect her to answer their questions.

  “They won’t make us stay, will they?” Lady Carleton asked anxiously. “Denzil says we won’t be let go till they’ve arrested someone.”

  “It must be one of us, must it not, Mrs. Fletcher?” That was Henry Fotheringay. The effect of his words was to make people glance around and move slightly apart from each other.

  “That’s for the police to decide.”

  “But those of us who obviously didn’t do it,” Lady Carleton persisted, “they’ll let us leave, won’t they? Ursula is terribly sensitive, just a child still. I’ve sent her to the nursery but it’s not at all good for her to stay in a house with such an unpleasant atmosphere.”

  “Poor little Ursula,” Erica said sarcastically. “I can’t imagine why Lucy invited such a child to be a bridesmaid.”

  “I can’t think why she asked you, Erica,” said another bridesmaid.

  “You’re only a second cousin,” her sister seconded her, “and you’re getting married next month yourself.”

  “That’s enough, Alice, Mary!” snapped Mrs. Henry. “This is not the time or place for childish squabbles. You’re not too old to be sent to the nursery yourselves.”

  “I was getting married next month. My wedding’s going to have to be postponed too,” Erica pointed out. “Too tedious! Mrs. Fletcher, I really need to go home right away and start notifying people.”

  “I have to leave today.” That was Flora, Lord Fotheringay’s unmarried daughter. She was dressed for the city, in a tailored black costume and white silk blouse. “I only came down yesterday to advise Aunt Vickie on decorating the chapel. I have a meeting with an important client in town this afternoon. They won’t stop me going, will they? They’ve no reason to suspect me.”

  “It’s not for me to say,” Daisy insisted. “But I wouldn’t advise anyone to leave without permission. It’d look very fishy.”

  “Very fishy indeed.” Mr. Henry agreed with apparent relish. “We’ll just have to wait for Mr. Fletcher to arrive to separate the sheep from the goats, if you’ll pardon the mixed metaphors.”

  “How can you all be so petty, with poor Grandmama lying murdered upstairs?” Veronica Bancroft sniffed and dabbed at her eyes. “Wanting to rush off as if she was a stranger who had inconvenienced you!”

  “Hush, my dear.” Peter Bancroft put his arm around his wife’s shoulders. “You can’t expect everyone to feel the horror as deeply as you do, close to your grandmother as you were.”

  In fact, Daisy thought, no one she’d spoken to appeared heartbroken by Lady Eva’s demise. Her brother Montagu seemed the most affected. Even Veronica Bancroft’s eyes, though slightly reddened, were quite dry, for all her dabbing at them.

  Her reproach was reasonable, however. Most of the others had beaten a retreat as she spoke. Only Oliver Fotheringay and Jennifer Walsdorf lingered, at a little distance.

  “It’s true, is it, Mrs. Fletcher,” said Peter Bancroft, “that your husband is going to be in charge of the case?”

  “I believe so.”

  “He’ll soon find out we had nothing to gain. Lady Eva was aware that I am perfectly able to provide for Veronica and the children. She left practically everything to Angela, you know.”

  “For her stupid dogs. Angela cares more for dogs than people. She’d do anything for her abandoned dogs, absolutely anything.”

  “It’s good to know someone’s willing to help the poor things, isn’t it?” said Daisy, wondering what could have caused such spite—worse than spite, if it was a deliberate attempt to suggest that Angela was capable of killing her grandmother for the sake of her dogs.

  At least Daisy’s response got rid of the Bancrofts. As they went off, Oliver Fotheringay came closer. He looked worried.

  “Daisy—Mrs. Fletcher, I should say—”

  “Please go on calling me Daisy.”

  He smiled. “Then you’d better call me Oliver, without the ‘Uncle,’ since you’re now a married lady. Daisy, Vickie is desperately concerned about Lucinda. She’s saying now that she’s not sure she’s going to marry Bincombe after all, that perhaps it was all a mistake.”

  Was Lucy wavering again, or just leading up gently to revealing her decision? “To tell the truth,” Daisy said with caution, “I think she just has cold feet, as well as being thoroughly fed up with all the pomp and circumstance.”

  “Vickie’s been trying so hard to give her a dream wedding.”

  “Lucy’s dream? Or her mother’s?”

  “In that case, why didn’t Lucinda say long ago that she wanted something different?”

  “Partly she didn’t know exactly what she wanted, and partly she didn’t want to disappoint her mother. That’s my guess, anyway.”

  “She’s always had different ideas from the rest of us. We’ve never known just how to deal with her.” Oliver sighed. “We’ll try to understand. At least, I’ll try to explain to Vickie. Perhaps it’s just as well the whole thing must be postponed—not that I’d wish for poor Aunt Eva’s death to be the cause! But I wouldn’t want Lucinda to marry Bincombe if she’s not sure.”

  “Has Lucy telephoned him?”

  “I don’t know. She won’t talk about it,” said Lucy’s harassed father. “Perhaps she’ll tell you.”

  “I expect so,” said Daisy. “I’ll go and look for her in a minute.” She looked enquiringly at Jennifer, still waiting in the background.

  Becoming aware that someone else wanted to speak to Daisy, Oliver apologized for keeping her and excused himself.

  “Daisy, you must be sick of people treating you as a surrogate for the police,” said Jennifer, “but I’m not sure what I ought to do. Do you mind if I ask your advice?”

  “Not if I can sit down while you ask! Marble is a very unfriendly surface to stand about on.”

  “Come into the library.”

  “Inspector Crummle …”

  “He came out while you were talking to all those people.” Jennifer led the way. “I think he went to interview the servants.”

  Leaving the nobs for Alec to cope with, of course. “A good move on his part.” Daisy sank into one of the comfortable leather chairs by the fireplace. “He was frightfully annoyed by Sir Leonard’s calling in Alec, but I’m quite sure he was feeling out of his depth, dealing with the aristocracy. Did Sir Leonard get a list of guests from you? Guests and residents?”

  “Ye-es.”

  “What’s the trouble?”

  “It’s Aunt Ione. Baines told me she’d ordered a car to take her to the station. I went to look for her to tell her she’d better stick around just now, but she’d already gone. I don’t know what’s got into her. She never goes anywhere.”

  “Oh dear!” Daisy had a sudden picture of the worm turning at breakfast this morning, of the meek, silent Lady lone announcing that now Aunt Eva was dead she didn’t have to pretend any longer. “Did she take a suitcase?”

  “Her maid says not. Daisy, ought I to tell the Ins
pector? Or Sir Leonard? Or wait till your husband arrives? Or hope she returns before anyone else finds out?”

  “Do you know exactly when the car left? Assuming she was making for the station, would she have arrived by now? Could she have caught a train already?”

  “Yes, if she’s going to London. I suppose I’d better tell Inspector Crummle, but it would be too awful if he had her arrested when she gets to Liverpool Street!”

  “Whatever I advise, Alec’s liable to grind his teeth and accuse me of interfering. I’d say least said soonest mended, except that the servants will talk.”

  “And the Inspector’s with them now.”

  “Oh yes, that’s all right, then,” said Daisy, relieved. “They’ll tell him, and neither you nor I need have any hand in it.”

  “Thank heaven! But I do wonder what on earth’s come over her.”

  “It’s odd, if she usually doesn’t go anywhere. But I doubt if she’s done a bunk. She probably wouldn’t know how. Where’s John, by the way? I understood he was in charge of dealing with the wedding postponement, but Crummle’s turned him out of the library.”

  “Yes, he’s taken all his stuff up to Lord Haverhill’s study. He was too late to catch several people before they set out, so they’ll be arriving sometime today.” Jennifer stood up. “If they have any sense they’ll turn right around and go home again, but I’d better make sure their rooms are ready.”

  “And I’d better look for Lucy. Any idea where she’s to be found?”

  “Try the folly. I saw her heading for the park and it wouldn’t surprise me if she’s gone to earth there.”

  “Good idea. I wouldn’t mind a walk.” It would give her a chance to think about people and their attitudes towards Lady Eva.

  Daisy followed Jennifer out to the hall. There she was pounced upon by Angela Devenish, the mongrel Tiddler at her heels as usual.

  “Daisy, Mummy and Daddy want to see you. Would you mind awfully coming up to their room?”

  The only possible reasons for the bereaved Sir James and Lady Devenish to ask for Daisy were to pick her brains about the police or to give her information to pass on to the police. Jennifer gave her a commiserating look and deserted her.