01 - Murder at Ashgrove House (17 page)

Lady Belvedere was dead, she could see that straightaway by the frozen
expression on her face and the eyes wide open but unseeing. Her hat had come
off and lay a few feet away and Rose found herself thinking nonsensically how
annoyed Lady Belvedere would be to see that it was covered with dirt. The
countess was wearing an unbuttoned tweed jacket over a white blouse which was
fast turning red as blood seeped out from the hidden wound. There was no need
for Rose to search in the pocket of her dress for a handkerchief to try to stem
the flow of blood and yet she did so because she did not know what else to do.
The futility of the gesture hit her; it was too late, Lady Belvedere was past
saving.

Rose was vaguely conscious that she was beginning to rock to and fro and
then she heard a high pitched wail, a scream that was barely human and filled
the air and made her start. It was only after a few seconds that she realised
that the noise came from her own lungs and that she was clutching Lady
Belvedere’s hand. She let it go flinging it from her as if it were
contaminated. Still rocking to and fro she clutched her head in her hands, shut
her eyes tight to keep out the horror and, tearing at her hair, she gave way to
hysteria.

‘Detective Inspector Deacon and Sergeant Lane from Scotland Yard, sir’,
Stafford said in his usual deferential manner as he showed both gentlemen into
Sir William’s study.

‘Ah, very good.’ Sir William got up from the sofa where he had been
sitting and threw aside the newspaper he had been trying to read to while away
the time until their arrival. ‘So good of you to come so quickly. Scotland
Yard, huh? A tragic business, of course, what, damned unpleasant, but I’d hardly
have thought it warranted a couple of detectives to be sent down from Scotland
Yard.’

‘We were in the area, Sir William,’ replied Inspector Deacon, a tall,
dark-haired rather handsome man dressed in a three-piece, pin-striped suit who
had an authoritative air about him, which immediately revealed his profession
and which Sir William found rather comforting. He might be a trifle younger
than he had been expecting, but he’d do, yes, he’d do very nicely; just the
sort of chap to sort out this spot of bother without making a song and dance
about it. Probably had a gentle manner with the ladies too, which would come in
jolly useful with poor little Miss Simpson.

‘We were sorting out a case of embezzlement in the area, sir,’ the
Inspector continued. ‘The Chief Constable thought it best to call in Scotland
Yard over this unfortunate incident, being as we were on hand so to speak and
it involves the wife of a Peer.’

‘Quite so, quite so.’ Sir William beckoned them to sit down. The sergeant
chose a chair by the window, outside Sir William’s direct line of vision, where
he could take notes discreetly and relatively unobserved, while the Inspector
chose an armchair facing the sofa.

‘Coffee if you please, Stafford.’ Sir William sank back down onto the
sofa.

‘Very good, sir.’ Stafford left, closing the door gently behind him.

‘It’s a most unfortunate business, Inspector. Not the sort of thing one
wants to have happen at a weekend house party. I think you’ll find it was a
very tragic accident rather than anything more untoward. I’ve done nothing but
think about how it could have happened since I heard the news. The more I’ve
thought about it, the more I’m certain there can only be one explanation. It
must have been a poacher in the woods looking for a rabbit or such like to feed
his family. Goodness knows, it wouldn’t be the first time. And poor Lady
Belvedere just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. How the
poor fellow came to shoot her by mistake I simply can’t quite fathom. Most of
them are pretty good shots, I can tell you, but perhaps he was the worse for
wear and inadvertently let his gun go off. And then, no doubt as not, he
panicked and ran off. I’m sure that in a day or so he’ll come forward when his
conscience gets the better of him. I don’t think our British justice system
will treat him too harshly. ’

‘Indeed, sir, that’s a possible explanation,’ Inspector Deacon admitted
and tried to keep the scepticism from his voice. Nevertheless Sir William
looked up sharply as if he doubted the policeman’s sincerity. He’s clutching at
straws, poor old fellow, thought the inspector, he knows the scenario he’s
putting forward is highly unlikely but he doesn’t want to face the
alternatives, can’t say I blame him.

‘I suppose you’ll be wanting to talk to Miss Simpson, Inspector? She was
out walking with Lady Belvedere when the countess was shot; a dreadful thing
for a young girl to experience, jolly nasty. She was in a totally hysterical
state, I can tell you, when they brought her back to the house. I was tempted
to send for the doctor to give her a sedative, but I thought you’d probably
want to interview her straightaway, what with her being a witness so to speak,
not that I think she saw anything. So I made do with giving her a little brandy
and Mrs Torrington’s sitting with her now because she was in no fit state to be
left alone.’

‘Thank you, Sir William, most thoughtful. I’ll speak with Miss Simpson
shortly, but before I do there are one or two things I’d like to get clear
first. Perhaps you could give me a run through of who exactly is staying at
your house this weekend.’

‘Certainly, Inspector.’ Sir William looked relieved at being given a
question that he could answer easily. ‘Let me see. Well, of course there’s
myself and my wife, Constance, Lady Withers,’ he began crossing the names off
his fingers, ‘Henry, Earl of Belvedere, poor Marjorie’s husband, their son,
Cedric, Lord Sedgwick, their daughter, Lady Lavinia and Cedric’s friend,
Marquis Sneddon.’ The sergeant caught the inspector’s eye and raised his eyebrows
at the sound of so many what he called “toffs”. ‘And Lady Lavinia’s friend,
Miss Simpson of course,’ ended Sir William.

‘Just a moment, Sir William, you mentioned a Mrs Torrington earlier. How
does she fit in?’

‘Oh dear me, had I forgotten to mention Edith? I’m afraid one does rather
forget about Edith. She’s staying here too, of course. She’s a distant relative
of my wife’s, one of her old school friends in fact.’

‘And Lady Belvedere was your sister-in law?’

‘Yes, indeed, Inspector. She was my wife’s older sister.’ Sir William
appeared suddenly lost in thought as he looked over to the unlit fireplace.
‘It’s funny to think that we were all inseparable once, when we were young,
Henry, Marjorie, Connie, Edith and I. Five friends who did everything together.
A long time ago now, of course, a lot of water under the bridge since then as
they say.’ 

At that moment Stafford entered the room noiselessly bearing a silver
tray with a silver coffee pot and three bone china cups and saucers, a milk jug
and a sugar bowl. The inspector wondered how his sergeant was going to manage
the tricky task of trying to juggle his cup and saucer in one hand with his
notebook and pencil in the other. Stafford however foresaw the difficulty, as
every good butler would, and as soon as he had poured the coffee and
distributed the cups and saucers to Sir William and Deacon, he pulled up a
coffee table to Lane and placed his cup and saucer in easy reach, while
ensuring that it could not be knocked over accidently. He gave a final glance in
the direction of Sir William to ascertain if anything more was required of him
and, getting no sign to indicate the affirmative, left the room as silently as
he had entered it, closing the door behind him as quietly as if he had been
drawing a curtain.   

‘Quite a house party then, Sir William?’

‘Yes, I mean, no. It is but it wasn’t intended to be. My wife had only
invited Edith, Lavinia and Miss Simpson for the weekend. But then we received a
wire from Cedric to say that he was coming down and he ended up bringing his
friend with him. And then we had a telephone call to say that Henry and
Marjorie were coming down as well. It quite upset my wife, I can tell you, she
thought they were all the wrong mix of people to have together, that they’d get
along terribly and that there’d be all sorts of rows and disagreements, and oh
….’ Sir William stopped suddenly as he realised what he’d just said. ‘It
rattled the servants too,’ he continued valiantly. ‘They’d all the bedrooms to
suddenly get ready and of course the food. Constance and Mrs Palmer, our
cook-housekeeper were determined to impress them. I don’t want to speak ill of
the dead, Inspector, but Lady Belvedere could be very critical if everything wasn’t
exactly to her liking. It used to worry my wife dreadfully. She used to be on
tenter hooks before a visit from her sister, not that she used to visit very
often, and hardly ever with her husband.’

‘I see,’ said Deacon, studying Sir William closely. ‘So was there any
particular reason why they all decided to descend on you this weekend?’

‘Well, yes, I suppose there was. Lady Belvedere no doubt had got wind
somehow that Lavinia would be coming down and saw it as an opportunity to
berate her on this shop work malarkey of hers, try and get her to give it up
and all that. Of course, it just made the girl more obstinate and determined to
stick it out. You know probably better than I do, Inspector, what young girls
are like nowadays. See nothing wrong with going against their parents’ wishes.
And Lavinia has definitely got spirit. Anyway, coming here was the only way
that Marjorie was going to see her, because from what I can gather, Lavinia has
been refusing to go home for the weekend, not wanting to receive a lecture from
her mother.

‘And then of course I think Cedric, that’s Lord Sedgwick, Lavinia’s
brother, was curious to meet the friend, Miss Simpson. Quite smitten he was as
soon as he set eyes on her. I think he found her a welcome change from the
young ladies he usually mixes with. She’s got a good head on her shoulders, has
little Miss Simpson. Nothing silly and frivolous about her and she knows the
meaning of hard work. The two of them seemed to get on like a house on fire,
which, as you probably can imagine, did not go down at all well with Lady
Belvedere.’ Sir William paused as he reflected and it seemed to bring a smile
to his kindly face. ‘Of course, no doubt Cedric also wanted to see how Lavinia
was doing. If I’m honest I don’t think that any of us thought that she would
stick with the shop work, too used to having her own way and enjoying herself.
It was the result of a bet, you know, with her brother that she couldn’t earn
her own living for six months. But I’ll say this for her, she’s determined when
she sets her mind to something and I don’t think she wanted to lose face in
front of Cedric. They’ve always been rather competitive ever since they were
children.’

‘Thank you. Right, before I have a word with Miss Simpson, I’d be
grateful, Sir William, if you could tell me what sort of a woman the deceased
was.’

‘Ah,’ Sir William suddenly looked uncomfortable and disinclined to say
anything further.         

‘Sir William, I know it seems in bad taste to say anything disrespectful
about the dead’, said Deacon gently, ‘but we really do need to build up a
picture of the deceased’s character. It will help us get to the truth of how
she happened to get killed.’

‘I don’t see why that’s necessary, Inspector. If she was killed by a
poacher, as I believe she was, I don’t see that her character has got anything
to do with it.’

‘Even so, Sir William, I’d be grateful if you’d humour me.’ There was
something about the inspector’s voice that persuaded Sir William that he would
not take no for an answer.

‘Very well, in that case, Inspector, just between ourselves,’ Sir William
continued, still looking rather ill at ease. It amused Deacon to note that Sir
William appeared to have completely forgotten about Lane, who was seated not
far behind him and was at that very moment scribbling furiously into his
notebook. ‘Lady Belvedere was quite a difficult woman. If I am quite honest, I
would not call her a particularly nice woman. Quite frankly, she was spiteful,
domineering and ruthless. She wanted her own way in everything and wasn’t
concerned how she got it, or who she trampled on in the process. I’m afraid she
was rather a bully.’ It appeared to Deacon that once Sir William had overcome
his natural distaste about speaking ill of the dead and his sister-in-law to
boot, there was no stopping him, the flood gates had opened and his words
poured out. ‘My wife was quite scared of her, you know, had been ever since she
was a small child even though she had no reason to be now, of course. I think
her own children were probably equally afraid of her. She had quite a temper
when she was annoyed, I can tell you, she could be very vindictive when she put
her mind to it.’

The inspector looked up and caught his sergeant’s eye. He knew exactly
what Lane was thinking: no wonder someone took a pop at her!

‘Right, so I assume from what you’ve said that she may have had a number
of enemies, people who may have wished her harm,’ Deacon said aloud, trying not
to be put off by Lane who was nodding his head vigorously behind Sir William’s
back. 

‘No, no, Inspector. She could be a trifle unpleasant, that’s all.’ Sir
William looked suddenly alarmed, as if he wished to retract his words. ‘I’ve
probably exaggerated it a bit’, he added quickly in an attempt to lessen their
effect. ‘Truth be told, although I
didn’t like the woman very much, it
doesn’t necessarily mean to say no-one else did. Probably a bit biased,
Inspector, I was all set to marry her once, you know, a long time ago, had set
my heart on having her for my wife. It’s hard to imagine now, but she was a
jolly beautiful woman when she was young and of course beauty can blind one to
a woman’s defects. Ah well, it obviously wasn’t mean to be.  Now I just
thank my lucky stars that I married her sister instead, got exactly the wife I
thought I would with Constance.’ He spoke Lady Withers’ name with affection, as
if he had suddenly realised that he had had a lucky escape.

Deacon tried to hide his exasperation. If Sir William was now keen on
back tracking, it was unlikely that he would express his feelings so freely
again.

‘The family’s taken Lady Belvedere’s death very badly, I can tell you,
Inspector. My wife’s naturally very upset at losing her sister in such tragic
circumstances, Lavinia is bawling her eyes out with her now in the morning
room, enough to sink a battle ship, and Cedric has shut himself up alone in his
room and refuses to speak to anyone, even to his father.’

‘And the Earl of Belvedere, Lady Belvedere’s husband, how has he taken
the news?’

‘Henry?  Well, he’s ensconced himself in my library, just as he did
yesterday and the day before and every time he comes to stay for that matter.
Not sure the news has really sunk in. He’s in his own little world most of the
time, Inspector. Obsessed by old books, you know, collects them, he’s quite an
authority I believe. I have rather a few valuable and interesting ones myself
which he’s making a point of studying. I rather think he’s hoping that I’ll
sell them to him, but I shan’t, they’ve been in my family for
generations.’