A Death in the Pavilion (9 page)

Chapter Fifteen
Murderous Intent

It seemed that I would be sick for ever, but eventually my stomach stopped heaving. Sweat beaded my forehead and my hair hung loose around my face. Bertram pulled me back into the room and gently wiped my face with a damp cloth. ‘My poor Euphemia,’ he said.

‘Oysters,’ I said apologetically.

‘No,’ said Bertram, ‘gas. Your intruder turned down the lamps so low they were leaking poisonous fumes.’

I lent back, feeling terrible. ‘What have I done this time?’

‘Nothing,’ said Bertram. ‘Whoever it was, I think he was after Richenda. We’re in her room.’

And on cue, Richenda leaned over and vomited onto the carpet.

Bertram helped me up. ‘I think we’ll get a maid to deal with that.’

The hall outside was now completely dark. I shivered with fear. ‘No other way,’ said Bertram. ‘Until the gas clears I daren’t turn on a lamp. I’ve turned them all off and the window in your room is wide open. Yours is furthest away from the leaking lamp, so you should be all right.’

‘That one. It was outside Richenda’s door?’ I asked.

‘Yes,’ said Bertram, laying me down on a chaise longue by the window in my room. ‘You should be fine. I’ll summon the doctor in case.’

‘But …’

‘I’ll say one of the new maids turned the lamps down dangerously low.’

‘But the intruder might still be here.’

‘He almost certainly is,’ said Bertram. ‘I’ll tell Muller the truth and he can decide what to do. In the meantime I’ll get maids to attend to both you and my sister. You won’t be alone for a moment.’ He rang the bell.

‘But Richenda is,’ I protested.

‘I’ve got the doors open,’ said Bertram. ‘I can see you both.’

And with this reassurance I drifted off towards sleep. A cold breeze blew through the window on to my face. The scent from the garden at another time I would have found heavenly. Mrs Muller really had created a wonderful garden. I wondered why this bothered me so much, but before I could answer myself I had slipped into sleep.

As a first ball I can’t say I did very much dancing. I became dimly aware of figures going in and out of my room. The doctor cursed the gas lamps and all servants. Bertram hovered by my side for a long time. Then Muller replaced him. He bent down to whisper to me. ‘I had to assure myself you were safe. Stapleford will stay with you. Don’t worry, I have everything under control. Rest now.’ I sighed and decided to trust him. He really was such a charming man. My dreams were confused. Hollyhocks chased gas lamps in flat caps through a jungle. At the heart of the jungle roared a lion. It had the face of Richard Stapleford.

The next morning a maid came to help me wash and dress. I went down to breakfast to find a council of war awaiting me and at the centre of the breakfast table sat none other than Richard Stapleford, master of Stapleford Hall and my long-term adversary. As I entered he was indeed mid-roar.

‘You!’ I said as dramatically as any bad actress. Richard barely glanced at me.

Muller and Bertram were also present. There was no sign of Mrs Muller. Muller got up to pull out a chair for me. ‘My mother sends her apologies,’ he said. ‘She is very distressed by what has happened and feels unable to join us.’

‘I think that’s for the best,’ said Richard.

Muller ignored him. He set my chair for me. ‘The doctor assures me you have taken no lasting ill, Miss St John. Bertram, ring for some fresh tea!’

‘Damn the tea,’ said Richard. He speared a rasher of bacon on his plate with unnecessary force. All three gentlemen had helped themselves to the breakfast buffet. Obviously, it was assumed that as a weak and frail female I would not be wanting more than tea this morning. I hated to admit it, but they were right.

‘How is Richenda?’ I asked. ‘Why is he here?’

‘Richenda is also recovering,’ said Muller. ‘Sir Richard gate-crashed our ball to ask his sister to return home.’

‘It was you,’ I said accusingly. ‘You were the man at the window.’

‘What is the wench talking about?’ spat Richard. ‘The gas has addled what wits she had.’

‘I must ask you to keep a civil tongue in your head, sir,’ said Muller. ‘Miss St John is an invited guest in my house. You are not.’

‘Got you too, has she?’ said the detestable Richard. ‘Don’t know how she does it!’

Muller scrapped back his chair and stood. ‘Now then, old man,’ said Bertram uneasily.

‘Isn’t the most important thing that we work out who is trying to murder Richenda?’ I interjected.

‘What do you mean,’ bellowed Richard.

‘Only that she was meant to die last night.’

The room went very quiet. Finally Richard spoke, ‘I swear if this is one your tricks, wench, I will …’

‘Enough,’ roared Muller. We all started. Everyone knew Muller never raised his voice. He was famous for it.

‘Right, now I finally have your attention, I must tell you I agree with Miss St John. I believe Richenda’s life has been in jeopardy and continues to be so.’

‘But who would harm me sister?’ asked Richard, in more of a bleating than an angry tone.

‘You,’ said Bertram. ‘On her death her share of our father’s estate reverts to you.’

‘I don’t need the money,’ snapped Richard.

‘I don’t know about that,’ said Muller more quietly, ‘but you certainly want her shares.’ He sat down again.

‘So do you,’ snapped Richard.

‘But I would not get them if she died,’ said Muller.

‘I think perhaps you had better leave, Euphemia,’ said Bertram. ‘You should leave us to work this out.’

‘You mean leave the men to sort it out?’ I said. ‘I don’t think so. While Richenda remains in bed I will be her representative.’

‘I can represent my own damned sister,’ said Richard.

‘But that’s exactly the point,’ said Muller. ‘You can’t. Your motives are suspect.’

‘Did you bring Barker with you?’ I asked.

‘What’s my factor got to do with it?’

‘You sent him here to threaten me to try and force Richenda to go back to Stapleford Hall.’

‘I did no such thing,’ said Richard. ‘I told the damn man to present my compliments and explain I wanted Richenda home.’

‘That isn’t what he did,’ I said. ‘And he spread the most scurrilous rumours about Mr Muller.’

‘He did?’ said Muller startled. He frowned. ‘It was after this that I found you searching my attic.’

‘The pigeon disturbed Richenda,’ I said.

‘And did she think?’ asked Muller horrified.

‘No, I’m sure she didn’t,’ I answered quickly. ‘She has always believed in you.’

‘As I suppose you have too,’ said Richard softly.

I turned to face him straight on. ‘What is that meant to mean?’

‘Only that we might all be overlooking the one person you would genuinely benefit from Richenda’s death.’

‘Who?’ I asked.

‘You!’ said Richard, pointing an eggy knife at me in a threatening manner. ‘You’ve already got Muller half under your spell. I reckon you thought you’d have a fine life as Mrs Hans Muller!’

Neither Bertram nor Muller sprang immediately to my defence. I gave them both a hard look. Bertram dropped his gaze and Muller half shrugged an apology.

‘You’ve made a career out of convincing respectable men you are better than you are,’ continued Richard. ‘You are a viper in any household.’

Bertram sat up straighter at that. ‘Oh, I say, that’s not on!’

‘I must request you again to keep a civil tongue when you address my guest in my house,’ said Muller firmly.

‘Listen to you both,’ exclaimed Richard. ‘She’s got you both wrapped around her little finger.’

‘Entertaining as your suspicions may be,’ I said reverting to my natural accent, my voice sharp as glass, ‘they are merely a diversion from the real issue. It seems unlikely that even a weak-witted female would gas herself rather than her victim. Or manage to push Richenda into poison ivy while being with witnesses in the house.’

‘You could have paid someone to do it,’ snapped Richard.

‘I am not the one with hired help on hand,’ I replied.

‘The poison ivy couldn’t have killed her,’ said Bertram, ‘could it?’

‘Probably not,’ I said. ‘The doctor did say there was always the danger of infection if a patient scratched the scabs.’

‘Or of a worse reaction,’ added Muller. ‘I don’t think whoever arranged for her to fall would have minded if she had died, but at the time I do not believe it was the main motive.’

‘They wanted her not to go to the ball,’ I said. Muller paled.

‘You had a new dress,’ he said.

‘Your mother ordered it for me. I didn’t know anything about it until last night.’ I paused. ‘She sent Richenda to fetch some blooms, but she claimed she had to give Richenda directions because she couldn’t remember the name. But she designed the gardens. You said they were her life’s work.’

‘They are,’ answered Muller, very quietly.

‘Bennie has been with you a long time?’ I asked.

‘Yes. I know. He’s not tall.’

‘What has that got to do with anything?’ snapped Richard.

But a deeper revelation had broken in on me. I spoke without thinking who was present. ‘The chimney,’ I said, ‘she would have heard every word when I told Richenda that Lucy had offered to sell us information about the death of the late Mrs Muller.’

‘Lucy said what?’ gasped Muller.

‘She said your valet had told her something.’’

‘What?’ pressed Muller.

‘I have no idea. She died before she could tell me.’

‘The maid by the driveway?’ said Bertram. ‘Are you suggesting that …’

‘Can a poisoning be made to look like a fit?’

‘No.’ Muller was shaking his head. ‘If she was killed it would mean …’

‘That there was a danger she knew something about the late Mrs Muller’s death.’

Hans Muller sat there, ashen-faced, as if his world had fallen in around him.

‘You fiend!’ cried Bertram leaping to his feet. ‘You lady-murderer … I mean, murderer of ladies … I mean – Fiend!’

Chapter Sixteen
Final Farewells

‘She can’t have known,’ muttered Muller. He looked at me in appeal. ‘He must have done it for her. Done what he thought she wanted.’

‘Fiend!’ cried Bertram again. Richard sat between the two men. ‘Mad house,’ he grunted. ‘Bloody mad house.’ He applied himself to his sausages and bacon once more.

I too rose, a little unsteadily. ‘You have it wrong, Bertram,’ I said and I could hear my voice shaking. ‘Mr Muller is entirely innocent. If anyone here is at fault it is me.’

‘No,’ cried Muller. ‘None of this is your fault.’

‘But if I hadn’t come here,’ I begun.

‘Told you it would be this wretched wench’s fault,’ said Richard as he decapitated a boiled egg. ‘Now, won’t you all sit down and explain to me exactly what Euphemia has done.’

Bertram sank slowly back into his seat, an expression of total bemusement on his face.

‘You will have to excuse me one moment,’ said Muller tightly, ‘there is something I must check on.’

‘I will go with you,’ I said. Muller made as if to protest, but I cut him off. ‘This is not something for you to do alone.’

‘Should I telephone to the police?’ asked Bertram, still confused but trying to join in.

‘I suspect, unfortunately, that will not be necessary,’ I said.

Further understanding dawned in Muller’s eyes. Then he ran from the room. I followed as fast as my skirts would let me.

Even so, I met him on the landing as he closed his mother’s door behind him. He clutched a note in his hand. He looked stunned.

‘I am so sorry,’ I said.

‘Did you know that she would do this?’ he asked in a low voice.

‘No,’ I said. ‘The pieces only came together when we were talking now. Then I remembered you had said she had declined to come down to breakfast. She knew we would work it out. She’s gone, isn’t she?’

Muller nodded. Then he took my wrist. His fingers were gentle but unyielding. ‘Come with me. I must talk to you.’ He pulled me along the landing and into his bedroom. He let me go as soon as we were inside, but he shut and locked the door. My heart began to beat a little faster. After all I had no proof my theories were right. In the centre of the room stood an enormous four poster bed, hung with green curtains. Muller dropped the door key in his waistcoat pocket and I began to feel even more uneasy.

‘Can I see the letter?’ I asked.

Muller shook his head, but held it out to me. ‘It won’t help you. She wrote in German.’ I took it. He told the truth. None of the words held any meaning for me. Muller sank down on the edge of his bed. ‘I think you had better tell me what you think is going on,’ he said in a level voice.

‘And if I don’t?’ I said.

‘We will sit here a long time.’

‘And if I do?’

‘Then we can decide what to do.’

I hesitated.

‘I am not going to hurt you, Euphemia, but I would very much prefer it if you would piece this puzzle together for me.’

‘I can assume Mrs Muller is dead?’

He nodded.

‘Does it matter then?’ I asked. ‘She’s gone. Once Bennie is apprehended it will all be over.’

‘My mother and her gardener were very close. I doubt he will survive her.’

‘Oh my God, you mean he too would take his own life? Then we must go to him. Prevent him.’

‘No,’ said Muller firmly. ‘If he has chosen to take the gentleman’s way out then that is for the best.’

‘You would sit here while he might be dying?’ I asked.

Muller nodded. ‘Tell me what you think happened, Euphemia. I am driving myself mad with my thoughts.’

‘I have no proof,’ I said.

‘Tell me!’ shouted Muller.

I backed up against the door. ‘It’s every bit as bad as you fear,’ I said quietly. ‘You told me your mother loved her garden, but you didn’t disagree when I said she would rather have grandchildren. It’s a family obsession to continue the line.’

‘But I was going to marry Richenda! She knew that!’

‘For some reason she preferred me,’ I said bluntly. I knew why, but I had no intention of telling him. ‘I imagine she thought because I was younger I would be more likely to be able to have several children for you.’ I took a deep breath. ‘She arranged for Richenda to be pushed into the ivy by Bennie, so you would dance with me at the ball. I think you are right, that she hoped Richenda would become severely ill. When it became clear she was recovering, she sent Bennie to turn down the gas lamps so the fumes would overcome her.’

‘He could have blown the whole house up!’

‘If I hadn’t disturbed him I think he would have stayed around to turn them up again. It may be he only intended for them to make her sleepy …’

‘To prevent her coming down to the ball?’ asked Muller.

‘So he could more easily suffocate her in her sleep.’

‘Dear God.’ The look of devastation on his face was hard to see.

I moved away from the door. I took a chair and placed it opposite him. ‘It gets worse.’

‘Lucy?’

I nodded. ‘Your mother’s room is above the morning room. She heard Richenda and me making plans to pay Lucy for gossip.’

‘And Bennie killed her too? She would have had nothing to tell you.’

‘Obviously your mother thought otherwise,’ I said carefully.

‘Charlotte died from heart failure.’

‘That isn’t the whole truth, is it?’ I said. ‘What caused Charlotte, your beloved wife, who kept miscarrying your children, to suffer heart failure?’

Muller slumped. ‘Angel’s Trumpet. Those beautiful flowers on the pavilion. Shake several over a tea cup, stir and you will never wake up. She admits it in the letter. Claims it would have been a gentle death. It seems our local doctor is open to bribes. He has a son he wants to send to a good school. The ambition of parents.’ said Muller bitterly. ‘Did you guess?’

‘Between them Bennie and your mother had a vast knowledge of plants and herbs, and that includes plants that are toxic. All gardeners must know these so the children, pets, and even the adults of the household do not come to harm.’

‘My mother killed Charlotte because she couldn’t have children.’

‘I feared so.’

Muller sat silently for some time. I waited. I knew I could not wrest the key from him. I did not know what he would do if I called for help. Had he been involved in his mother’s schemes? Complicit? Now I had laid all I feared bare would he silence me too? I clenched my muscles and tried not to shake. I must not show fear.

Then Muller dropped his head in his hands and began to sob. My next action I will always claim was involuntary. I went to sit next to him and put my arms around him. He lent on me and wept like a child.

Finally he stopped. He wiped his face with his handkerchief, gently disengaging my arms. ‘I am so sorry, Euphemia,’ he said. ‘Everything this family has put you through. It is too much. I will go and tell Bertram to telephone to the police now and send someone to Bennie’s house. There may still be time.’ He made to rise.

I put a hand on his shoulder, restraining him with my touch. ‘No,’ I said. ‘We both know it is too late for the gardener by now. We have spent too much time here.’

‘Your reputation!’ said Muller.

‘Was never that high with the Staplefords!’ I gave a weak smile. ‘Your mother and Bennie have paid for their actions with their lives. Nothing either of us can do will bring back either Charlotte or Lucy. Summoning the police will cause nothing but unpleasantness to all those involved.’

Before he could stop me I threw his mother’s confession on the fire. ‘If nothing else,’ I said, ‘Richenda would never forgive me if you let a constable interview her in the state she is currently in!’

‘That damned doctor. Heart failure?’

‘It is what we all die of eventually. It may be that he simply did not know or it is what he thought you also wanted him to put. I doubt he knew she was poisoned. Your mother probably told him to put something innocuous and he didn’t ask any questions.’

‘I would have wanted to know the truth.’

‘Honestly? That your mother had conspired to take your wife from you?’

He nodded. ‘It would have saved Lucy’s life.’

‘Well, now there is no one left to take account of.’

‘Except me,’ said Muller. ‘I think I suspected Mother a long time ago. And then when she became so keen for me to marry you and bought you that amazing dress …’

Not to mention, I thought, she’d heard me admit in the morning room that I was the grand-daughter of an earl.

‘I feared she had arranged Richenda’s accident, and then when I had considered she might have done that I began to …’

‘Fear more,’ I finished for him. ‘But it was too late by then.’

‘How could I have been so blind,’ raged Muller. ‘I should have protected Charlotte. I loved her with all my heart.’

‘I’m sure she knew that,’ I said. ‘I expect she never knew what happened to her.’

‘You think so?’ asked Muller hopefully.

‘Heart failure is very sudden,’ I said with no knowledge whatsoever to back up my assumption. His face cleared a little.

‘But what do we tell the others about Mother?’

‘This is where your local doctor must once again prove his worth. School fees must be paid annually. Your mother was hardly elderly, but she was of an age when it is not uncommon for people to die. She had said she was feeling unwell.’

‘But Bennie?’

‘If we wait until your mother has been seen by the doctor, people will assume that he took his life as he was so devastated by your mother’s death. They may draw some inappropriate conclusions …’

‘I’m not sure they would be inappropriate,’ said Muller almost savagely. ‘He must have had a great regard for her to do her bidding.’

‘Loyalty is prized among servants,’ I said vaguely.

‘As you have always been loyal to Richenda.’ Muller frowned at me. ‘You are very adapt at arranging these matters.’

‘Living with the Staplefords has given me an insight to a world I would not otherwise have encountered.’

‘Am I wrong to consider marrying Richenda? Is she also …’

‘Versed in these ways? I think Richenda will improve vastly when she is away from Stapleford Hall and her brother.’

Muller nodded. ‘Under the circumstances I could not reconsider offering my proposals to you. I could not ask you to join such a family.’

‘But you can ask Richenda?’

‘Richenda and I will make a bargain. We will each get what we want from this union.’

‘I think she is more than half in love with you,’ I said.

Muller shrugged. ‘I will always treat her kindly, you have my word. There will also always be a home for you here if you still wish it.’

I sighed. ‘I have nowhere else to go,’ I said simply.

‘Then you should look, Euphemia,’ said Hans Muller, ‘and I say this to you as a friend.’