A Death in the Highlands (15 page)

Chapter Eight

A Surfeit of Intruders and Suspects

‘But he isn’t even giving her a chance!’ I cried as the door closed behind Mr Edward and the unfortunate Susan.

Mr Fitzroy rose and collected the book Mr Edward had discarded. ‘Plato. If I didn’t know better I would suspect Mr Edward has a sense of humour.’

‘How can you make jokes at a time like this?’ I demanded.

‘It really
is
Plato,’ said Mr Fitzroy. He held the book up so I could see the title.

‘You know that is not what I meant!’

‘My dear Miss St John, you have got exactly what you wanted. McLeod is exonerated and Susan is held culpable.’

‘But she denied it!’

‘As Mr Edward said, no woman is going to admit to a charge that makes her children orphans.’

‘Oh dear God,’ I said.

‘Really, Miss St John, you should take more care in deciding what outcome you desire before you act.’

‘Oh stop calling me by that ridiculous name,’ I snapped and to my horror burst into tears. I buried my face in my hands and sobbed.

I was surprised when Mr Fitzroy took me by the elbow and steered me gently into a seat. He pressed a handkerchief on me and waited for my distress to subside.

‘If it’s any consolation, I don’t believe she did it either,’ he said.

‘Then why?’

Mr Fitzroy shrugged. ‘Locking up the butler wasn’t getting us any nearer to finding the real killer.’

‘You’re trying to get the murderer to incriminate themselves? How?’

‘It’s a messy situation,’ said Fitzroy, ‘which currently you are significantly contributing to muddying.’

‘I am only trying to do what is right.’

‘If Mr Smith was the intended victim, then I will be doing all in my power to bring his killer to justice.’

‘But not if it was
Lord Richard
who was the intended victim?’

Mr Fitzroy yawned. ‘Provincial murder isn’t one of my interests. Besides, Lord Richard remains alive and not in any apparent danger.’

I frowned. ‘Were you particularly close to Mr Smith? You weren’t at school with the others, were you?’

Mr Fitzroy stood up. ‘If you’re recovered, Euphemia, I am sure Mr McLeod will be eager to see you.’ He paused and gave me a wry smile. ‘To be updated about the household affairs, naturally.’

‘Are you being deliberately mysterious, sir, or do you feel I am asking questions beyond my station?’

‘Not beyond your station, my dear Miss Martins, but most definitely out of your league.’

‘Sir, that is most ungentlemanly!’

‘I have repeatedly told you, Euphemia, that I am no gentleman,’ said Mr Fitzroy calmly.

‘At least, sir, let us pool our resources. Previously, you encouraged me to investigate with your guidance …’

‘No.’

‘No?’

‘Do not make me regret further taking you into my confidence.’ There was real menace in his eyes. ‘That would be unfortunate for us both.’

‘But I know nothing about you.’

‘I strongly advise we keep it that way,’ said Fitzroy and threw open the door for me.

Realisation dawned on me. ‘You believe, like Bertram, that this murder is one of international significance. You’re a …’

Mr Fitzroy placed a finger suddenly against my lips. The speed at which he moved towards me made me fear he was going to strike me, but his finger against my flesh was quite gentle. He brought his face close to mine and whispered, ‘Keep your foolish imaginings to yourself.’

I considered biting him, but that soft voice was more intimidating than any of the Staplefords’ blusterings.

‘Very wise,’ said the hateful Mr Fitzroy. He stepped back and placed his hand on the door. He gestured smoothly for me to precede him and I did, hurrying away as fast as my pride would allow.

In the kitchen I came across a delighted Rory. ‘It’s good to see you, lass,’ he cried, grabbing my hands. ‘I believe it’s you I have to thank for my liberty.’

I blushed and glanced around at the interested faces of Jock, Merry, Willie and several other staff, who it suddenly seemed needed to be in the kitchen at this hour. ‘Should you not all be making the final preparations for dinner?’ I asked. ‘Is the staff supper being served before or afterwards, Jock? Really, I am away for a short time and you all become lax and inattentive to your duties.’

‘Merry said you were leaving,’ said Willie.

‘Euphemia, is this true?’ asked Rory.

‘I am happy to say, it is not. There was a slight misunderstanding, but matters have now been arranged satisfactorily. Merry, Willie, I need you to check on the dining room. The gentlemen will be dining formally downstairs tonight. I need to know the settings and room are perfect. Jock, you will have to save the staff supper till later.’ I looked at the other male servants, some of whom were valets, ‘And you, gentlemen, need to remind your employers of tonight’s formal meal. They have all of them returned quite muddy and I imagine will be in need of your aid. Mr McLeod, if you would be so good as to accompany me to my parlour, we can discuss what has happened in your absence.’

‘I’m to keep my job then?’

‘Certainly,’ I said with authority. I looked around at the stunned sea of faces. ‘The rest of you kindly get on with your business. Now!’

In the quiet of my parlour I passed Rory a whisky that I had requisitioned for him. ‘I think it is the very least Lord Richard can do,’ I said with a smile. I had a smaller glass for myself. I am not used to strong liquor, but this had been a most difficult day.

‘Aye,’ said Rory. ‘I’m inclined to agree.’ He took a mouthful and savoured it. It was the very best the house had to offer and it appeared to agree with him. ‘It’s a fine thing to be out of that pantry, but I’m gey sorry Susan will be the one taking my place. I’d never have thought it was a lassie who did this.’

I sipped at my own glass. The amber liquid glided over my tongue tasting of honey, heather and something sharper I couldn’t identify. It settled warmly in my stomach. It was wonderful. No wonder the gentlemen drank this every evening. I took another sip.

‘She didn’t do it,’ I said firmly. ‘Investigations are continuing. Besides, the drive was washed away. The men were out again this afternoon shoring it up, but it will take more work to allow the passage of vehicles. Does it always rain in August in Scotland?’

‘Not that often,’ said Rory thoughtfully. ‘I mean, there’s always a bit of rain hanging around, but you lot do seem to have brought a fair squall up from the south.’

‘You were with us!’

‘Aye, but I was only visiting. This land is my home.’

‘Will you continue working for the Staplefords?’

Rory shrugged. ‘To be honest I’d rather not, but beggars can’t be choosers and I don’t have enough experience to get the kind of position I have here elsewhere.’ He scratched his chin. ‘If you see what I mean.’

‘Certainly,’ I said. ‘And who is to say any other household would be less difficult?’

‘I’d hope there might be less
murders
,’ he said with a wry smile. ‘What will happen to Susan? I know you said she was innocent, but that Mr Edward seemed very determined that she was guilty. I don’t like to think of a woman locked up.’

‘Or being hanged,’ I said.

‘Will it go that far, do you think?’

‘Someone will be punished for this. I only hope it is the right person.’

‘Us and them,’ said Rory meaningfully.

‘It’s all so confusing,’ I said with a grimace of annoyance. ‘No one is sure if the intended victim was Mr Smith. He might have been given the bag with the wrong cartridges by accident. But he’s Korean, or half-Korean, and Mr Bertram thinks that has something to do with it. That it’s a political murder. I think Mr Fitzroy is a spy!’

Rory leaned over and took the almost empty glass from my hand. ‘I think you’d better finish this later,’ he said. ‘I need to go and brush up to serve at dinner and you need to take it easy. You deserve a rest. I’ll cover for you.’ He lifted my feet onto a stool and threw a cover over me.

‘I am not drunk,’ I protested.

‘No, just a little under the influence,’ said Rory with a grin. ‘Spies, indeed!’

‘We should investigate,’ I said. ‘We need to help Susan.’

‘No,’ said Rory firmly. ‘We should keep out of it and do our jobs. Right now you need to rest.’

‘It has all been most exhausting,’ I said. ‘Perhaps I will close my eyes for a few minutes.’

‘Good idea,’ said Rory. He closed the door softly behind him. My eyelids felt remarkably heavy, so I let them close. I told myself I would think more clearly about the puzzle I had to entangle if I shut out the world.

I am not entirely sure what happened, but I opened my eyes to a knock at my door. Merry tripped in. ‘I kept a bit of supper back in the range, but if you want it before it all dries out you should come now. Unless you’d rather eat in here?’

I sat up rubbing my eyes. ‘Is dinner over?’ I asked blearily.

‘Long over,’ said Merry with a laugh. ‘Mr McLeod said to leave you be, as you’d had a very hard day. Is that whisky I smell? You’re not turning all Mrs Wilson on us, are you? Not that the Staplefords aren’t enough to drive anyone to drink.’

I stood up brushing down my skirt. ‘I had a small whisky with Mr McLeod to celebrate his release. I must have been more tired than I realised.’

‘Of course,’ said Merry, grinning.

‘If the staff think I am lying in an inebriated stupor I had better come into the kitchen to disprove any gossip.’

‘If you think you can walk straight,’ muttered Merry.

‘I heard that! I am quite fine!’ I said making my way to the door. ‘How is Susan?’

Merry’s happy face fell. ‘She’s in the pantry. I heard her sobbing earlier. Do you really think she did it?’

‘I don’t know. She’s admitted to leaving polish on the stairs in the hope of causing an accident.’

‘I’ve felt like that more than once myself,’ said Merry.

‘Sssh!’ Our pace had slowed as we talked, but I could feel the hairs rising on the back of my neck. I looked behind, but could see no one.

Merry stopped and leant against the passage wall. She looked up and down into the gloom. ‘They’ve all gone,’ she said. ‘The locals have gone home and the rest are away to their own rooms. It’s just us.’

‘Hmm,’ I said thoughtfully. ‘Her husband was a gamekeeper, so it’s believable she knew how to sabotage a gun. But getting the wrong cartridges to put in the bags would require preparation rather than an instant’s madness.’

‘Where would she get them?’

‘I don’t know. Although,’ I admitted slowly, ‘it’s possible they were already here. Apparently they’re the ones Miss Richenda would have used if she’d come up.’

‘Who packed up that stuff?’

‘I saw Rory with the guns, but I don’t know about the ammunition. It might have been Lord Richard.’

‘It would be like him to bring the whole lot rather than sort it all out.’

‘Perhaps,’ I said, ‘he’s not a very thorough man. But that would mean Susan could have come across the cartridges when she was helping you.’

‘I didn’t see her open any of the ammunition bags.’

‘But if she didn’t, how did it get in there?’

‘Who packed them?’ asked Merry.

‘It must have been either Rory or the new gamekeeper.’

‘Lots of people were around those bags,’ said Merry. ‘It could have been anyone.’

‘Or it could have been a tragic accident. Someone made an error in packing and …’

‘You should go and eat what’s left of your supper,’ said Merry. ‘The whole thing seems clear as mud to me.’

‘With this amount of rain it would have to be,’ I said smiling.

‘What?’ asked Merry warily. ‘Are you making fun of me?’

‘You know what,’ I said decidedly, ‘talking to you has definitely helped. I need to go out to the shoot and see if there was any way someone could have tampered with the bags on the site. It’s much more likely that this murder was done by one of the guests or the Staplefords. Servants may hate their masters, but they know if anything happens to one of the so-called “nobs” life is only going to get worse for them.’

‘Euphemia, what are you like? It’s pitch black out there.’

‘I’ll go tomorrow, around dawn, before anyone is up and around. If I’m actually at the scene of the crime I might get some more ideas.’

‘You’re creepy sometimes, you know that?’

‘I want to help Susan,’ I said flatly. ‘It’s my fault she’s been accused and there’s no more of a case against her than there was against Rory.’

‘If you ask me, I think …’

It was at this point I noticed a portion of shadow detach itself from the wall and move off.

‘There’s someone there,’ I cried. ‘They must have heard every word we said!’

‘Where?’ asked Merry peering into the gloom. ‘Hey, wait, Euphemia, don’t go following a murderer, for the love of God!’

But I didn’t stay to listen. I crept quickly along the passageway. There was very little light, only the occasional pale streak of moonlight, so I didn’t risk running. It would do no one any good if I broke my neck in the dark. I followed as fast as I dared. Within moments I reached a junction; looking right and left, I could see no trace of my supposed intruder. Behind me, Merry clattered into a bucket in the dark. She swore loudly. I knew there was very little chance of following the intruder. But as my eyes grew accustomed to the dark, I saw a faint trace of light off to the left. It was coming from the second pantry where Susan was being held! Someone was trying to free her – or worse. It occurred to me in a sudden flash that if Susan were silenced, then the case could be closed and the real murderer would get away. Despite the darkness I broke into a run.

‘This way, Merry!’ I yelled.

The door to the second pantry was wide open. A pale yellow light from an oil lamp washed out into the passage. My ears could make out a low murmur of conversation. The escape was not yet complete. I rushed up to the door and stopped on the threshold stunned by what I saw. Behind me I heard Merry’s boots clatter to a halt. ‘Oh lor’,’ I heard her say softly.

In the pantry, seated on the stool, was a weeping Susan. Her hair hung about her face and it was clear she had been distraught for some time. There was nothing unexpected about the sight of her. It was Mr Bertram kneeling at her feet, her small hands enfolded in his larger ones, that took my breath away. He turned his head at our noisy arrival, but only nodded curtly before transferring his attention back to Susan.