02 - Murder at Dareswick Hall (23 page)

‘Yes,
and I locked it behind me too. I knew Crabtree would be annoyed in the morning
if he found the door unlocked.’

‘You’re
sure you locked it?’

‘Absolutely,
Inspector. I tried the handle a couple of times just to make sure.’

‘I see.
What did you do with the key, Miss Atherton?’

‘It’s
here, Inspector.’ With that, she produced it from her handbag.

‘Did
you lend it to anyone while you were away from here?’

‘No,
I’ve had it with me all the time in my bag.’

‘So,
what happened after you let yourself out and locked the door behind you?’

‘Brimshaw
was waiting for me on the other side of the door. The poor man had been waiting
for me for ages. I was rather surprised to see him still there, to tell you the
truth. I half thought he might have given up waiting for me and gone back to
the garage. But he was still there.’

‘And
then what?’

‘Why, he
took the suitcase from me and we walked over to the garage, of course, loaded
up the car and set off on our journey.’

‘And
where exactly was this journey to?’ enquired Deacon.

There
was silence. For the first time during the interview Josephine refused to
answer.

‘Come,
come, Miss Atherton, you’d do well to tell me. You said a few minutes ago that
you had hoped to have returned before anyone was aware that you were missing.  And
yet you took a suitcase with you which we know from your maid was filled with a
number of your clothes and jewels. That seems to indicate that there was a
possibility at least that you intended to go for a very long time. In fact,
perhaps you intended never to come back. Your brother and Miss Simpson here
were certainly of that opinion.’

Josephine
looked at the floor and still said nothing.

‘When
you came in just now, before you knew we were here, you said you were going to
go and explain to your father where you’d been,’ said Deacon becoming
exasperated. ‘Explain to me now, Miss Atherton, if you will.’

‘Yes,
but that was before….’

‘Before
what, Miss Atherton?’

‘Before…’

‘Before
you’d heard about the murder.’

‘Yes.’
Josephine bit her lip and looked pale.

‘And
now that you have, you won’t tell me where you were?’

‘I’m
sorry, Inspector, but no I won’t.’

‘Miss
Atherton. May I remind you that this is not some game? A man was brutally
murdered in this house at the same time that you were, at the very least,
passing the door. By what you are saying, or not saying, to be more precise,
your very journey or destination seems to have had some bearing or connection
with this man’s death. I need to know where you went and why you set off at
such an unusual hour when your house was full of guests.’

‘I’m
very sorry, Inspector. I’m not meaning to be awkward, really I’m not, but I’m
afraid I can’t say anything yet. I need to think things through first.’

‘Miss
Atherton –.’

The
conversation was interrupted by the constable knocking on the door and coming
in somewhat apologetically, requesting that the Inspector come out of the room at
once so that he might have a few words with him in private. The Inspector gave
a quick glance at Josephine. It appeared to Rose that for a moment he had
forgotten her own presence in the room. Later she wondered whether things would
have happened any differently if he had demanded that she leave the room with him,
rather than leaving her to converse with Josephine in his absence.

‘Stay
where you are, if you will, Miss Atherton,’ Deacon said and, without giving a
backward glance at Rose, he left the room.

‘Rose,
what should I do?’ Josephine cried desperately, as soon as the door had closed
behind the policeman. ‘Is it really true? Is Hugh really dead? Murdered! I just
can’t believe it, there must be some mistake. Are they absolutely sure he was
killed with my letter opener? Couldn’t he have just tripped and hit his head
against the fireplace or some such thing? It’s the sort of thing men do all the
time, isn’t it, particularly when they’ve been drinking which I assume Hugh had
been.’ She put her hand to her face. To Rose’s alarm, she saw the girl was
shaking.

‘No, Josephine,
there’s no mistake.’ Rose walked over to her and took her hand. ‘He was found
slumped over the desk with your letter opener in his back. But what do you mean
by asking what you should do? You must tell the inspector the truth, of course.
You must tell him where you went and the reason for your leaving so abruptly.
I’m afraid, you see, that it all looks so very suspicious. It makes it look as
if you’ve got something to hide.’

‘Perhaps
I have,’ said Josephine rather ominously. Rose found herself shrinking back
from her slightly. Josephine noticed her reaction and clung to her hand tightly,
almost making the girl wince. ‘Please, Rose, you have nothing to be afraid of. It’s
just that I’ve got to think very carefully about things, that’s all, before I say
anything to that inspector. Everything’s such a muddle. I don’t know what’s
important and what isn’t. But what I do know is that I have got to sort
everything out in my mind first before I say anything. I know I’m not being
very fair on you, by not telling you what this is all about, but you must help
me, please. You must tell me what I can say to the inspector to make him leave
me alone, if only for a little while. He’s trying to force the truth out of me and
I can’t tell him, I can’t, at least not now. I want to be left alone. I need to
make sense of everything.’  She looked up beseechingly at Rose clearly at her
wits end. Rose felt a certain pity towards her and was somewhat alarmed at her
pathetic state. This was not the same Josephine who had welcomed her to
Dareswick. ‘Please, Rose, I’m desperate. I think I’ll go mad otherwise, quite
mad.’

‘Well,’
said Rose, hesitating slightly, ‘there is one thing that you could do although
I think you may find it rather embarrassing. But if you stick to your story I
think Inspector Deacon may leave you alone, at least for the time being.’

‘And
what’s that?’ Josephine asked eagerly, clinging at the sleeve of Rose’s dress.
‘I’ll say anything so long as it means I’ll be left alone to think.’

‘When
it was realised that you had gone missing, there was some idle speculation that
you might have eloped with the chauffeur,’ Rose said, colouring a little.

‘Eloped
with Brimshaw?’ Josephine looked appalled at the suggestion and went crimson.
‘I mean, he’s a jolly decent fellow and all that, he’s quite handsome, but I’d –.’

‘I
don’t believe anyone seriously believed that you’d eloped with him,’ Rose said,
quickly. ‘But you could pretend you had to Inspector Deacon, just for a little
while. It would buy you some time to think what to do. But, Josephine, I beg
you to tell the inspector the truth. He’s very reasonable, you know, for a
policeman I mean. Cedric and I have had dealings with him before. He
investigated that awful business at Ashgrove. He’s jolly decent. Anyway, you’ll
have to decide quickly what you’re going to do because, unless I’m mistaken, I can
hear him coming back.’

Rose
hurried back to her chair while the door opened and Deacon came in.

‘Ah,
Miss Simpson, I had forgotten you were here. How very remiss of me.’ He stared
at her suspiciously and Rose had the decency to blush. ‘Now where were we, Miss
Atherton? Ah, yes, you were about to tell me what was so urgent that you had to
set off at the dead of night and where exactly you have been.’

Josephine
took a deep breath and blushed.

‘Rose
has just been telling me that I must tell you the truth, Inspector, no matter
how embarrassing I might find it. She insisted that it was essential to your
investigation that I tell you everything and, what is more, that it was my duty
to do so.’

‘Very
good,’ Deacon said slowly, turning to stare at Rose for a moment. To Rose, he
did not look or sound completely convinced by what Josephine was saying but had
obviously decided to let it pass.

‘It’s
all rather embarrassing, I’m afraid,’ said Josephine quickly, as if she were
afraid that she would change her mind. She put her hand up to the side of her
face. ‘I do hope that you will keep this to yourself, Inspector. I should so
hate my father to find out. It’s not the sort of thing he’d understand at all.’
Deacon said nothing, he did not even give a slight nod of the head or mutter of
encouragement. Josephine, having bitten the bullet, decided to plough on
regardless. ‘It all sounds rather sordid but really it’s not. You see,
Brimshaw… eh, that’s to say James, and I, well, we’ve sort of fallen for each
other.’

‘Indeed?’

‘Yes,
awfully inappropriate I know, and Father will be frightfully cross if he finds
out, but there you are, one can’t really help who one falls in love with, can
one?’

‘I
suppose not.’

‘Well,
there you have it, Inspector. Brim…James and I, we just couldn’t bear it any
longer, all the secrecy and everything, you know, making do with snatched
moments and all that. We decided that we had to be together properly. I knew
Father would never stand for my marrying the chauffeur, he’s awfully
old-fashioned about that sort of thing, almost Edwardian in fact. So there
really was nothing for it. If we wanted a life together, and we did, really we
did, well there was only one thing we could do. We just had to elope. You do
see that, don’t you?’

‘But
what I don’t understand, Miss Atherton, supposing your story to be true, and I
must admit that I do have certain reservations in believing what you are
telling me,’ Deacon paused and turned to raise his eyebrows at Rose before
turning back to Josephine, ‘is why you chose to elope this weekend of all
weekends, when your house was full of guests and all the family were here. Why
didn’t you choose a weekend when your father and sister were in town and your
brother in Oxford? You wouldn’t have had to leave at the dead of night then.’

‘You
make a jolly good point, Inspector and what you say is very true,’ agreed
Josephine, looking rather desperate, ‘And of course that’s what we were
planning to do, only our plans were a bit upset by the arrival of Lord
Sneddon.’

‘Ah,’
said Deacon, sounding interested for the first time since he had re-entered the
room. ‘Now I think we may be getting somewhere.’

‘Yes,
you see I’m afraid I got terribly upset by it all. I couldn’t believe that Hugh
was engaged to be married to my sister. It was all rather a shock. There was a
time, you see, Inspector, when I thought he was rather keen on me and I had
feelings for him myself and I, well, hoped that one day… well, you can imagine
what I hoped for. And then to discover that he was going to marry my sister and
to know I was going to be forced to spend the whole weekend being nice to them,
pretending that I didn’t mind at all, when really I minded a great deal. To
have to wish them well and pretend that it was the greatest news ever. I just
couldn’t bear it. So I told James that if his feelings for me were genuine then
I wanted us to elope immediately, and so we did.’

‘That’s
all very well, Miss Atherton, but if that’s the case, what made you come back
to Dareswick? Why aren’t you in Manchester or Dublin or on board a ship heading
somewhere further afield?’

‘Well…’
Josephine began, not at all sure how to continue, her imagination now
completely having run dry.

‘They had
second thoughts,’ Rose said, helpfully. ‘Josephine’s just been telling me all
about it. When it came to the crunch, they just couldn’t go through with it.
Josephine found she didn’t want to leave Dareswick and her family forever, which
is what it would have meant, of course. And Brimshaw found that he rather liked
being a chauffeur and didn’t really want the responsibility yet of providing
for a wife.’

‘Yes,
Inspector,’ Josephine agreed, readily. ‘We found that we had made the most awful
mistake. So Brimshaw is going to continue working here until he gets another
position and we’re just both going to pretend that nothing of this sort ever
happened. You won’t tell anyone, will you, Inspector, especially not my father?
He won’t take it at all well. It’s just so embarrassing, I just don’t want to
think about it.’

‘Miss
Atherton, if you do know anything about what happened here last night, or are
connected with Lord Sneddon’s death in any way, then I must advise you that it
would be in your best interests to tell me everything you know this moment. Not
only is it withholding evidence but, more importantly from your perspective, it
may place you in considerable danger. I do not want to find that we have
another murder on our hands.’

He was
not to know then that his fears were to prove quite founded.

‘Well,
Lane, what did you find out from the chauffeur?’ enquired the inspector, as
soon as Lane had come back into the study. He had let Josephine and Rose go
shortly before, his dire warning ringing in their ears. ‘A deal more than I
found out from Miss Atherton, I hope.’

‘So she
wasn’t very cooperative?’ asked his sergeant, ‘or was the reason for her going
all rather mundane and not connected with the murder at all?’

‘I’m
pretty sure there is a connection between Sneddon’s murder and her sudden
departure, but for the life of me I can’t think what it can be. She seemed
genuinely shocked to hear about Sneddon’s death. I’m sure she didn’t know about
it before she left. It’s possible I suppose, that she sent Brimshaw back into
the house to get something for her and wonders whether he might have done
Sneddon in, but I don’t think so.’

‘Did
she tell you why she had left so suddenly or where she went, sir?’

‘Not
really, Lane. She gave me some cock and bull story about eloping with this
Brimshaw fellow and choosing to go when she did because her nose was put out of
joint by Sneddon getting engaged to her sister after he’d been dallying with
her affections some months before. To tell you the truth, I didn’t believe a
word of it. I think our Miss Simpson suggested she gave us that story.’

‘Do you
think Miss Simpson suspects she is guilty and is trying to protect her?’

‘Yes, I
do. Certainly she seemed very worried about her friend. If I’m honest, I forgot
for a moment that Rose was in the room.’ Lane looked up and raised his
eyebrows, slightly taken aback by the inspector’s use of Miss Simpson’s Christian
name. Deacon, it appeared, was oblivious to having done such a thing. ‘I reckon
the inspector’s got a soft spot for her,’ the sergeant would later tell his
girl when they returned to London, ‘you mark my words if he hasn’t.’ Now,
though, he said nothing and the inspector continued. ‘It was damned stupid of
me, of course. One of the constables called me out of the room to show me quite
a vast sum of money that they had discovered in Miss Atherton’s luggage. So the
two of them had the opportunity to get together and concoct the story of her
eloping with the chauffeur.’

‘Still,
it looks as if she was going away somewhere, doesn’t it?’

‘Yes,
going away and not coming back by the looks of it. I wonder where she was going
and what made her change her mind. Was that Brimshaw chap able to tell you
anything?’

‘Not
much. He said Miss Atherton called on him shortly before dinner at the garage.
It gave him quite a turn to see her there, he said. She was all dressed up for
dinner in a long velvet gown, he told me, and there he was looking a right mess
with his shirtsleeves rolled up and wiping his hand on a greasy rag having been
tinkering with the car. He was that afraid, he said, that she’d get oil or
grease on her nice dress.’

‘Yes,
well, never mind about all that,’ said Deacon, impatiently. ‘What did she say?’

‘She
wanted him to drive her up to London as soon as the house had retired to bed.
He tried to suggest that they go up first thing in the morning instead, but she
was having none of it. She said that it was very urgent that she made the
journey that night, and anyway she wouldn’t have the opportunity to get away
the next day, not with the guests and her brother and sister being here. She
said that they would be back before the house rose for the day, so no one would
be any the wiser and she was quite happy for him to have a lie in today.’

‘I
gather then from what you are saying that there never was any intention of
their eloping?’

‘None
whatsoever, sir. I put that very question to the man and he denied it
emphatically, he did. I’m sure he wasn’t lying either. He looked very shocked
at the suggestion and was worried in case Mr Crabtree was of the same view and
he’d lose his job.’

‘What
did he tell you happened?’

‘He
said as how Miss Josephine told him to wait by the side door and that she would
come out to him as soon as the coast was clear. He had to wait so long for her
to appear that he thought she’d changed her mind. He was about to return to the
garage when she appeared. He said it gave him a bit of a fright to see her
carrying a suitcase, given that it was only supposed to be a flying visit, but
she reassured him that it was unlikely that she’d be staying in town. But that
if she was she’d give him a message to take back to her father.’

‘I see,
interesting. So it was by no means certain that Miss Atherton would be running
away, so to speak, just a possibility. It’s beginning to sound to me, Lane that
the girl had been jilted or was beginning to feel that she had been jilted.
Anyway, when she appeared at the door, did he say whether she appeared agitated
or in shock as she would have been if she had just killed Sneddon.’

‘No,
sir, he didn’t think so. I put that very question to him and he said that she
was anxious and excited, as one would expect given the circumstances, but nothing
else. And he assured me that he himself never had any occasion to go into the
house. He just waited for her outside the door.’

‘Well,
what happened when they got to London, Lane? Where did she go?’

‘Well
that’s just it, sir, he doesn’t rightly know. As soon as they arrived she got
him to stop the car and hail a cab for her. She gave him some money and told
him to wait for her at a hotel. He was to snatch a few hours’ sleep and she’d
meet him in three or four hours’ time to either take her back to Dareswick with
him, or to take back a note to her father. He says he was very apprehensive
about letting her go out into the night by herself, but that she had been most
insistent.’

‘Did
she turn up as arranged?’

‘Yes.
Brimshaw said she was in a dreadful state. Her eyes were red and swollen and
she was sniffing and dabbing her nose and her eyes with a handkerchief. It was
obvious that she’d been crying. She was dreadfully pale too, as if she had
received something of a shock. The chauffeur says his heart went out to her,
but that he said nothing and pretended that he hadn’t noticed anything was
amiss. He said she sobbed quietly in the back of the car all the way back to
Dareswick.’

‘And
yet, when she arrived, she gave no indication that she was in so much
distress,’ Deacon said, thoughtfully, crossing to look out of the window. ‘It
is very lovely here. I can imagine that anyone would have reservations about
leaving this place.  But it does look as if she was planning to run away.
However, for some reason or other, she didn’t see it through. And goodness
knows how but I am absolutely certain it’s all connected with Sneddon’s death in
some way.’

As soon
as they had left the study, Josephine made her excuses and said she was going
upstairs to her room. She asked Rose to make it clear to everyone, with perhaps
the exception of her father, that she did not wish to be disturbed. Rose, who
had no wish to encounter the baron in a bad temper due to the various antics of
his daughter, was relieved to find that he was still holed up with Cedric and
Hallam, trying to get hold of the elusive duke. She was glad that she was not
with them, for she understood from snatches of conversation she overheard
between Crabtree and Mrs Hodges that the baron was getting very agitated and
concerned that the duke would hear the news about his son’s sad demise first
from the papers rather than from himself.

With
time to herself, she tried to make sense of Josephine’s position regarding the
murder. She could not help but remember that shortly before Josephine’s arrival
she had decided that she was the most likely person to have killed Sneddon. But
she was sure that Josephine had been genuinely shocked to hear the news about
Sneddon’s death. She was equally certain that his murder had also made her less
forthcoming about where she had been and why she had felt the need to set off
as she had in the middle of the night. There must be some connection, only what
was it? The girl was scared. It seemed to Rose, that Josephine had feared the
worse and then discovered that her fears had been realised.

Rose
was conscious that she had still not disclosed to Inspector Deacon that
Josephine had known that Sneddon was blackmailing her sister into marrying him
and that she had advised her that she would deal with the matter. What was
more, and Rose blushed the more she thought of it, she had deliberately provided
Josephine with an excuse as to why there had been a need for her to run away as
she had done. Deacon had not been fooled. He had seen through the ruse
immediately and no doubt she had fallen even further in his eyes. But Josephine
had been desperate, had cried out to her for help. What was she to do?
Josephine was involved in it all, she felt sure, but was she really responsible
for Sneddon’s death?

‘I
don’t think there’s any more we can do today,’ said Deacon, stretching his arms
behind his head, stifling a yawn. It seemed to him that he had been sitting at
a desk pretty well all day. He resolved to go for a walk when he got home. If
nothing else, it would be an opportunity to think over the case. ‘It’s been a
long day for everyone. Let’s leave the Athertons and their guests to their
dinner, and we’ll come back here bright and early tomorrow. Hopefully that
Ricketts chap will be caught trying to leave and we’ll discover who else he and
Sneddon were blackmailing. If we find that out then I think we’ll find our
murderer. Right, have you got the men stationed and waiting?’

‘Yes,
sir, there’s no way he’ll be able to leave Dareswick without being caught.’

‘Good,
well let’s get on and tomorrow we can see what the new day brings.’

Unfortunately,
although neither policemen knew it at the time, it was to bring another death.

‘I
don’t know what we’re going to do about serving dinner tonight, Mrs Hodges,’
Crabtree said, looking about the room in search of the whisky bottle as if its
physical presence would be enough to steady his nerves without him even having
to take a sip. Although he did promise himself that he would pour himself a
very small measure as soon as the housekeeper’s back was turned, for medicinal purposes
only, of course, for he was still reeling from the shock of a murder having
occurred in a house where he was butler.

‘Oh,
what’s the matter now, Mr Crabtree?’ Mrs Hodges sighed, ‘Haven’t we got enough
to worry about without something else cropping up?’

‘Sidney’s
come down with his cold again. Sneezing something rotten he was just now,’ said
the butler. ‘I packed him straight off to bed. We can’t have him spluttering
into the food tonight while he’s serving. But I daren’t have young Robert do
it. The baron’s sure to notice and I’m afraid that he’s in rather a foul mood
about this tragic business.’

‘Can’t
say I blame him. Hardly likely to encourage a flurry of guests, is it, not if
one gets himself murdered in your house, even if he does bring it on himself
what with all his shenanigans and –.’

‘Thank
you, Mrs Hodges,’ said Crabtree quickly, suddenly aware that Sneddon’s
manservant was lurking in the shadows. ‘The problem we have is that there is no
one to help serve dinner. I suppose one of your housemaids might do but –.’

‘I’ll
do it, Mr Crabtree.’

‘
You
!’
Ricketts had appeared at his shoulder so suddenly that it was all the
butler could do not to jump into the air with fright. He looked disparagingly
at the man and his attire. ‘What do you know about waiting on table? And look
at yourself, man! You look completely dishevelled, not to say dirty. You’d be
enough to put the master and his guests off their food and I’d hazard a guess
that you’re a clumsy fellow. You’d probably end up ladling the soup into their
laps.’

‘Like
the other fellow did, Robert’s his name isn’t it, and that’s his normal job
too,’ retorted Ricketts with a sneer. ‘Ah, give us a chance, Mr Crabtree. I’m
sure you’ve got a nice suit of clothes I could change into and I’ll go and have
a wash now and comb my hair. I’m telling you, you won’t recognise me. I scrub
up very well when I want to, I can tell you. And I’ve helped out at my cousin’s
public house once or twice, waited at tables, collected glasses and the like.’

‘Waiting
at table in a public house is hardly the same as waiting at table in a grand
house like this,’ Crabtree said huffily. ‘It’s not the same thing at all.’

‘Ah, go
on, Mr Crabtree. I’m a quick learner, I am. You just go through with me now
what I’ve got to do. I won’t let you down, I promise. And to tell you the
truth, I’m awful bored, what with my master being dead and all, I’ve had nothing
to do all day.’

‘Other
than being interviewed by the policemen.’

‘Oh,
give him a chance, Mr Crabtree,’ said Mrs Hodges, who had been watching the
exchange with interest. ‘It’s not as if you’ve got much choice after all, is
it? And there’s no soup on the menu tonight. Mrs Gooden didn’t want to risk it
after what happened last night. You needn’t decide right now. See how the
fellow scrubs up first. If he looks halfway presentable and can master the
basics when you go through it with him, well, as I say, you’ve nothing to
lose.’

‘Well,’
said Crabtree, visibly wavering, but still looking at Ricketts rather
doubtfully. ‘I think we have a spare suit of livery that might fit this fellow.
But make sure you wash yourself thoroughly, young man, I don’t want it ruined.
And then we’ll see if you’re the quick learner you claim to be.’