Mad About the Boy? (20 page)

‘I could!'

‘Well, I don't! I don't care if Stanton murdered fifty Lord Lyvendens. What I care about is us.' He caught hold of her hand. ‘Us, do you understand? We're engaged.'

She shook her hand free. ‘We were engaged. If I thought Arthur had . . .' She swallowed and for a moment looked close to tears.

Smith-Fennimore looked earnestly into her face. ‘Do you love him? Is that it?'

Haldean suddenly arrived at the point where he couldn't take any more. ‘I'm off.' He pushed past Bubble and Squeak Robiceux who were gazing at Isabelle and Smith-Fennimore and went into the gun room, slamming the door behind him.

Ashley looked up, startled. ‘What's wrong?'

‘Isabelle,' said Haldean succinctly. He flung himself into an armchair.

Ashley turned to his sergeant. ‘I know Major Haldean. He'll make a proper statement later. You take yourself off for the time being, my lad. Now then,' he said when the sergeant had gathered up his notebook and gone, ‘what's the problem with Miss Rivers?'

‘Miss Rivers,' said Haldean, ‘bit my head off and is in the middle of a huge scene with Smith-Fennimore. Anyone who says a word against Arthur is in the doghouse. Smith-Fennimore's getting the worst of it with me as reserve.'

‘But why?' asked Ashley. ‘I don't really like saying this, but from the way Miss Rivers is reacting, you'd think it was Captain Stanton she was engaged to, not the Commander.'

‘You're telling me,' said Haldean with feeling. ‘I knew she liked Arthur but when he asked her to marry him, she turned him down. God knows how this is all going to end up. Although I could shake her at the moment, I think the world of Isabelle and I've known Arthur for years. As for that poor devil Smith-Fennimore, she's putting him through the wringer and no mistake.'

He stood up and walked to the mantelpiece and rested his hands against it, stretching his arms. ‘I don't know if I'm going to be much use to you, Ashley,' he said eventually. ‘I'm too involved. I can't get my ideas straight and I don't know if I ever will.' He stared into the empty fireplace. ‘If only it wasn't Arthur.'

‘Well, it is,' said Ashley practically.

Haldean didn't react for a couple of moments, then he turned, leaning his back against the mantelpiece. Ashley was pleased to see the ghost of a smile. ‘And that being the case, old fruit, I'd better stop having forty thousand fits and get on with it, eh?'

‘That's about the size of it,' agreed Ashley.

Haldean was very still for a moment, then he relaxed and laughed. ‘Okay. Fit over. So, Superintendent Ashley, sir, what do you think?'

‘I think,' said Ashley, aware that Haldean's mood was still fragile, ‘that there's a dickens of a case against your friend, Arthur Stanton. I think that on the facts alone it looks as clear a case of caught in the act that I've ever come across. There really doesn't seem to be any doubt about it. Just let me run through the facts with you. Lord Lyvenden ruined Captain Stanton's family. Is that right?'

‘That's what Arthur said. He's certain his father and mother died as a result.'

Ashley nodded. ‘So that's a motive. Captain Stanton mysteriously found a knife in his drawer. Yes?'

‘Actually, I found the knife. Arthur seemed bewildered by it.'

‘So I've heard. That's his means. Then, complete with knife, he goes to Lord Lyvenden's room while everyone else is at lunch. That's his opportunity. The next thing we know is that Arthur Stanton is discovered in Lord Lyvenden's room beside the dead body of Lord Lyvenden who now has the knife in his chest. So far from offering any explanation, Stanton ups and crashes through the french windows and scarpers. It doesn't look good.'

‘It looks bloody awful, Ashley,' said Haldean. ‘I couldn't agree more. On the one hand I don't see how he can be guilty, on the other I don't see how he can't be. Not only can't I see it, I can't make any guesses, either.'

Ashley raised his eyebrows. ‘Now, that is a first. To be honest, Haldean, I haven't much doubt, but Miss Rivers was so very positive, to say nothing of the two Robiceux ladies, that I caught myself wondering if there was any other explanation.'

Haldean shrugged. ‘If you think of one, let me know, won't you?' He shook his head. ‘We've had a really peculiar few days, what with Tim Preston and those Russian blokes . . .'

‘Blokes?' asked Ashley. ‘I've only heard about one.'

‘No, there were two. I don't know why either of them came here. Perhaps,' he said, seeing Ashley's inquisitive face, ‘I'd better wise you up, as the Yanks say.' He perched himself on the arm of a chair and, as quickly as he could, ran through the events of the past few days.

Ashley listened intently. ‘So there's not one Russian but two?' he said when Haldean had finished. ‘One on the night of the ball and the one who visited Lord Lyvenden.' He scratched the side of his chin thoughtfully. ‘And it was Captain Stanton who discovered that the cigarette packet was missing from the grate in Lord Lyvenden's bedroom?'

Haldean nodded. ‘Nobody but Arthur saw it, so you may think that particular cigarette packet has a Cheshire Cat quality about it, but it had been there, Ashley. The depression in the soot was perfectly visible. And that means that somebody was fixing up an alibi and that means, O Sleuth, that poor old Tim didn't top himself as we were expected to believe.'

Ashley sucked his cheeks in. ‘Can we stick to Lord Lyvenden's murder for the time being? At least we know for certain that
was
murder. Miss Rivers tried to tell me that Captain Stanton simply walked in on Lord Lyvenden after he was dead.'

‘In that case, why didn't the idiot walk straight out again?' Haldean put his hands wide in frustration. ‘The door wasn't locked. All we had to do was turn the handle and it opened. He could have got out any time. Say he did walk into the room. You'd think the first thing anyone would do when finding themselves with a punctured corpse would be to mention it to someone. I know I would. And you've seen the remains. I've never seen such a punctured corpse in all my born days. There was gubbins all over the place. You pointed that out to Belle, I suppose?'

‘Yes, and she says he must have been overwhelmed by horror and didn't know what to do. I understand he suffered from shell shock,' added Ashley tentatively.

Haldean clicked his tongue irritably. ‘Yes, he did. He had a perfectly foul time in the war and if he's caught and sent for trial that'll probably be his best defence. But damn it, Ashley, you know and I know that even if the sight of Lyvenden pushed him over the edge, he'd crumple. He'd be wiped out, unable to move. He'd be hiding in a corner, not standing there bellowing the house down and kicking the furniture.'

‘So what was his reaction when he saw you all? I mean, was he insane?'

Haldean thought for a moment, tapping his fingers on the arm of the chair. ‘He obviously wasn't himself, so to speak. He was very upset and I'd say he was a bit hysterical. Having said that, I didn't think he'd lost his marbles. He wasn't very coherent, but I doubt many people would be very coherent in those circumstances.' Haldean leaned forward and took a cigarette from the box on the table. ‘But I keep coming back to the fact that this is my old friend Arthur I'm talking about.' He tapped the cigarette on the back of his hand before lighting it. ‘If you knew him, you'd understand how simply incredible it all seems. Did you check the knife for fingerprints, by the way?'

‘Yes, I did, but the results were inconclusive. It looked as if the killer had been wearing gloves.'

Haldean frowned. ‘Arthur certainly wasn't wearing gloves. Not when we saw him, anyway.' He glanced up. ‘Ashley, I don't like those gloves. I mean, why on earth should he wear gloves and then hang about in the room, unless he really has gone doolally tap? Were there any other prints on the knife?'

‘Some, but they were smudged by the glove marks.'

‘It just doesn't add up,' muttered Haldean. He stretched his legs out and put his arm over the back of the chair. ‘Look, forget Arthur for a moment. Who else is there in the house who's capable of murder?'

‘You know who's in the house. Whether they're capable of murder or not is something I wouldn't like to say.'

Haldean grinned. ‘I'm not nearly so timid in my judgements. You've got a list of residents there, have you? Who's on it?'

‘Well, there's Miss Rivers . . .'

‘Isabelle? You know Isabelle. Not a chance.'

‘And Sir Philip and Lady Rivers . . .'

‘Not a chance with knobs on. Besides that, they were at lunch.'

Ashley looked at his list. ‘There are the servants, of course.'

Haldean shook his head. ‘I don't somehow think the butler did it. All the Hesperus servants are local people. Aunt Alice knows their families and so on. There's Lady Harriet's French maid, but she's only a little bit of a thing. From what Tim Preston told me, it seems likely that Lyvenden would have made a pass at her, but even if she was suffering from an excess of outraged virtue, I can't see her having the strength to grab hold of a man like Lyvenden and stab him three times. Maybe if the knife had gone in right away, but it glanced off his ribs twice. Unless he was being held pretty firmly, he'd have fought back good and hard. Not only would she probably look as if she'd been in a scrap, I don't think she'd be able to land the final blow. Smith-Fennimore's got a valet. I don't know anything about him. Lyvenden's got a valet too, of course. His name's Adamson.'

‘I haven't spoken to either of them yet. I particularly want to see Adamson.'

‘Let's leave them out of it for the time being. Who else have you got?'

Ashley ran his finger down the paper he was holding. ‘Miss Celia and Miss Cynthia Robiceux, who backed up Miss Rivers in her claim that the Captain was innocent.'

‘And who are familiarly known as Bubble and Squeak.' Haldean tapped the ash of his cigarette. ‘They were at lunch, too. They're great friends of Isabelle's and I've known them for ages. Not,' he added with a grin, ‘that that's any defence against the baser passions, but you know what I mean. Also, everything I said about the French maid, Yvette, not having the strength to do it applies to them as well.'

‘Alfred Charnock?'

Haldean sat forward. ‘Now he wasn't at lunch. He borrowed my car and went out. You'll have to see for yourself, Ashley, but I think there's something dodgy about him. He's Aunt Alice's stepbrother and he's milked the relationship for all it's worth. He's been living here scot-free for ages and I'd like to know why Uncle Philip can't stand him.'

‘I haven't seen him yet,' said Ashley. ‘I'll bear your comments in mind. Commander Smith-Fennimore. I realize he was Lord Lyvenden's business partner and goodness knows what sort of motive that could throw up, but he's injured.' He screwed up his eyes in a frown. ‘He's right-handed, isn't he? Mind you, he'd need both to do this particular murder.'

‘It sounds like it,' said Haldean. ‘He's fairly clumsy with his left, too,' he added, remembering the box of matches Smith-Fennimore had dropped. He clicked his tongue. ‘He was late for lunch, but not very. He'd have had to move like greased lightning to murder Lyvenden and clean himself up so he was in a fit state to tackle a lamb cutlet. I can't see it. Who's next?'

‘Lady Harriet,' said Ashley.

Haldean cocked his head to one side. ‘Who wasn't tackling cutlets either. She was out. And, as we know, when a husband's killed the first person you think of is his other half and vice versa. And, not to be unduly gossipy, they weren't exactly on Tristan and Isolde terms. She couldn't stand him. Not that you can blame her for that.' He ran his thumb round the side of his chin. ‘Lady Harriet's a strong woman. She's got that wiry sort of nervous energy I think she'd be strong enough, you know.'

‘I certainly thought she had a very odd reaction to her husband's death,' said Ashley. ‘She said he had it coming to him.'

‘She wasn't exactly distraught, then? Mind you, that would be downright hypocritical.'

‘Hypocritical or not, I still think it was an odd reaction. She refused to say where she was this morning. I didn't like her attitude at all.'

‘She's a bit hard to take,' agreed Haldean. ‘Mind you, by all accounts, Lord Lyvenden's private life was exotic. Maybe it got to her.'

‘And then there's Mrs Strachan,' continued Ashley.

Haldean grinned. ‘Mrs Strachan was Lord Lyvenden's private life, as I've told you, or part of it at least. And she was also out for lunch. But honestly, Ashley, you've met her. She's a spineless sort of female, or at least that's how she appears. I can't imagine her sticking a knife into anyone. She might stir arsenic into the tea, perhaps. Having said that, Lord Lyvenden definitely threatened her and she was very frightened.'

‘A frightened woman can be very dangerous.' Ashley frowned. ‘I'm not at all sure about Mrs Strachan, despite the impression she makes. Her statement was very circumstantial but vague about times.' He boxed his notes together. ‘I don't know, Haldean. It's been useful getting the background to the case and your insights into the house party, and I do take your point about the gloves, but I honestly can't see I'm much further forward.' He broke off as a knock sounded on the door.

Constable Bevan entered. ‘Excuse me, sir, but the photographer's finished and Mr Charnock is waiting for you in the library.'

‘Well, ask Mr Charnock to come in here.'

Bevan coughed. ‘I did ask him, sir, but he said you could come to him. He was quite rude about it, sir.'

Ashley shrugged and rose to his feet. ‘I'd better go to the library, then. Far be it from me to inconvenience Mr Charnock.'