Murder Has No Class (24 page)

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Authors: Rebecca Kent

BOOK: Murder Has No Class
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“I certainly hope she keeps a better eye on them than she did yesterday.” Meredith stepped outside and glanced down the corridor to make sure there were no stray students wandering about. “I had a word with her as we were leaving the church this morning. She seemed willing enough to watch over everything until we return. To put it in her words, she had nothing better to do with her time. Though if you ask me, she’s anxious to make up for her incompetence yesterday and wants another chance to prove her worth.”
“I just hope I don’t have to talk to the butler,” Essie said, joining them in the hallway.
“You might have to, I’m afraid.” Meredith led the way to the front door. “He has forbidden me to come back to the estate, so if we manage to get inside the mansion I might need you to keep him occupied long enough for me to carry out my plan. Also, we will have to find another way into the building. We can’t go through the front door and I’d rather avoid bumping into Mrs. Parker. I have a feeling she’s not about to let me in the house, either.” She glanced back at Felicity. “I might have to make use of your skills at opening locks.”
Felicity grimaced. “At least my spell in jail taught me something useful.”
Essie shuddered. “I still can’t believe they put you in that awful prison simply for protesting.”
“I’m afraid that’s where our maids will end up if they insist on fighting for women’s rights.” Meredith reached the front door and opened it. “Ah, there’s Reggie. Come, ladies. Let us see if we can trap a murderer.”
Half an hour later Reggie halted the carriage down the lane from the Stalham estate, as Meredith had ordered. “We will walk up to the mansion and go in the back entrance,” she told the other two as they set off down the road.
Instead of walking up the driveway, Meredith cut through the trees, holding up her skirt so that the brambles didn’t snag the fine wool. Following close behind, Essie asked nervously, “What will happen to us if we are caught trespassing?”
“Don’t worry,” Meredith told her, with a great deal more confidence than she felt, “I have a friend in high places who will help us if that happens.”
“If you’re talking about that morose Inspector Dawson,” Felicity said, stomping along behind them, “I wouldn’t place too much trust in his ability to protect you. After all, he has to uphold the law, and we
are
trespassing.”
“He will think it justified when I hand him Lord Stalham’s killer.”
“How are you planning to do that?” Essie asked anxiously. “You can’t just walk up to a murderer and demand he confess to the crime.”
“There are other ways to get a confession.” Meredith lowered her voice. “Now be quiet. We are nearing the mansion and I don’t want to be caught by the grounds-keeper before we even get inside.”
She led the rest of the way in silence, and eventually emerged from the woods at the rear of the house. “We have to cross the lawn to the French windows,” she said, pointing to where the glass doors were almost hidden by a trellis of vines. “If we are quick about it, we should be able to get there unseen. Felicity, you go first in case the doors are locked. Beckon to us when you have them open.”
Felicity’s usual confidence seemed to have deserted her. Frowning, she stared at the seemingly vast stretch of lawn between her and the doors. “Wouldn’t it just be more simple to go to the front door and demand entrance? If all three of us barge our way inside, we should be able to overpower that malicious little butler.”
Meredith shook her head. “For my plan to work, I have to make it look as if I have been allowed admittance to the mansion.”
“I think it’s time you told us what your plan is, so we can at least be prepared.”
“My plan,” Meredith said quietly, “is to talk to Winnie alone in the library.”
Felicity raised her eyebrows. “You hope to do this without Smithers finding out?”
“Oh, I’m sure he’ll find out. I’m just hoping my plan works before that happens.”
“But why—”
Meredith held up her hand. “I don’t have time to explain it all now. Please, Felicity, just trust me and open those doors for us.”
Felicity hesitated for a few more seconds, then nodded. “Very well. Just remember, I’ve already done one spell in prison. I don’t relish the thought of doing another.”
“You won’t,” Meredith assured her, praying she could keep that promise.
She drew Essie back into the trees while Felicity sprinted across the grass to the mansion. “Essie, once we are inside the library, I want you to keep a lookout for Smithers. If it seems that he will discover us, I need you to talk to him long enough to allow Felicity and me to get out of sight. Just tell him the housekeeper let you in, and that you are looking for your parasol that you left behind the last time you were here.”
Essie looked confused. “I didn’t have a parasol.”
“Yes, well, let’s hope that Smithers doesn’t remember that. Whatever you do, keep him away from the library.”
Essie looked about to cry. “What if I can’t?”
Meredith patted her arm. “Just do your best, dear.” She looked across the lawn to where Felicity stood waving frantically. “Oh, my. We had better go. Come on, Essie. Stay close behind me.”
The distance across the grass was farther than she’d thought. By the time she reached Felicity she was out of breath, and Essie’s cheeks burned with the exertion.
Felicity simply pointed at the doors, which stood ajar. “They weren’t locked,” she whispered.
Meredith nodded, then took hold of Essie’s arm. Pulling her along with her, she stepped into the library. Felicity followed her, quietly closing the doors behind her.
“Now what?” Felicity whispered.
“I want you to find Winnie and send her back here to talk to me.”
Felicity’s eyebrows rose. “Wouldn’t it be better for you to find her and talk to her wherever she’s at?”
“No, I need to be in here to talk to her. I can’t make her come back here with me, but if you tell her I have something of the utmost importance to say to her, I’m hoping curiosity will bring her to me.”
“You hope,” Felicity said grimly. “This all sounds very unpredictable.”
“That’s because it is.” Meredith gave her a wry smile. “I didn’t say the plan was perfect.”
“What about me?” Essie asked. She was actually shivering, though the room was quite warm.
Feeling sorry for her, Meredith placed her arm about her friend’s slim shoulders. “Keep looking out the door. If you see Smithers coming, go out to meet him. Try to lead him away from the library, perhaps suggesting he help you look for the parasol outside.”
Essie’s bottom lip quivered. “He won’t hurt me, will he?”
“No,” Meredith said, praying she was right. “You have nothing to fear from Smithers, other than his reporting our deplorable behavior to the constabulary.”
That didn’t seem to reassure her. Adding a few more instructions to them both, Meredith gave Essie a little push. “Go on, Essie. I have complete faith in you.”
“Lord have mercy,” Felicity muttered, and followed Essie to the door.
Meredith held her breath as Essie opened the door and peered outside. Pulling her head back in, she nodded at Felicity. “It’s all clear.”
Felicity held crossed fingers in the air for a few seconds, then disappeared into the hallway.
Meredith stayed by the windows, ready to slip through them should Smithers get past Essie’s guard and enter the room. Everything depended on getting Winnie into the library without anyone seeing her.
There were still no guarantees, of course. She had no way of knowing how Winnie would react to what she had to say. She could only hope that it all worked out as she had envisioned.
Chapter 19
It seemed that hours had passed since Felicity had left the room, yet looking at the clock, Meredith could see that only twenty minutes had gone by.
Essie still leaned in the doorway, though every now and then she pulled her head in to glance at Meredith, no doubt to assure herself that her friend was still there.
After another ten minutes or so, Meredith began to worry in earnest. Had something happened to Felicity? Had she found Winnie and run into trouble persuading the girl to come to the library? Had Smithers found them both and realized what was going on? Did—Her speculation ceased abruptly as Essie withdrew her head with a gasp.
“She’s coming,” she whispered, her eyes wide with apprehension.
“Winnie?” Meredith moved to the center of the room.
Essie nodded.
“Quick, Essie. Out the windows.”
Essie needed no second bidding. She leapt across the room, then paused at the French doors. “You will be all right?”
“Yes, yes.” Meredith waved a hand at her. “Go!”
Essie opened the doors and slipped through. She had barely escaped when Winnie tapped on the door, then opened it and walked in.
“Mrs. Llewellyn. You asked to see me?”
“Yes, Winnie, I did. I wanted to ask you another question or two.”
Winnie’s chin rose and a look of defiance crossed her face. “I’m done answering questions.”
“Not quite. I want you to tell me what really happened the night Lord Stalham died.”
“I told you what happened.” Winnie eyed the door. “I don’t know anything else.”
“Ah, but I think you do.” Meredith took a step toward her. “When I first asked you about that night, you told me you heard nothing until the arrival of the constables woke you up. Then later, you said you saw Lady Clara leaving by the back stairs, which would have been before the constables arrived.”
Winnie shrugged, though her expression had grown uneasy. “I forgot about Lady Clara the first time we talked. It’s been a few months since it all happened. I got confused.”
Meredith nodded. “So was I for the longest time. I knew that for James to be innocent, someone else must have shot Lord Stalham. Moreover, since the only fingerprints on the gun belonged to James, I thought at first that it meant the real killer wore gloves.”
Winnie stared back at her, her eyes filled with fear. “What does all this have to do with me?”
Ignoring the question, Meredith continued, “At first I thought it might have been Miss Suchier who had fired the gun. She would certainly have been wearing gloves that night. Then I found out she left before the shot was fired, so that left Lady Clara, who would also have worn gloves. Especially since you said you saw and heard her here that night.”
Winnie nodded. “It could have been her. Or it could have been James, like everyone said.”
“It wasn’t James, Winnie. For a very simple reason. You told me about the gentleman who paid a visit to Lord Stalham the day before he was killed. Sir Gerald Mackleby, I believe you said.”
“That’s right.”
“Sir Gerald handled the gun, I believe, then Lord Stalham put it back in the case.”
“Yes, he did.”
“Obviously, if James’s fingerprints were still on the gun, he didn’t have time to clean it. Therefore, why weren’t Sir Gerald’s and your master’s fingerprints also on the gun?”
Winnie’s mouth opened and closed before muttering, “I don’t know. I don’t want to know. I have to go now—”
“Not yet!” Meredith’s voice cut across the room and the girl froze. “You’ll go when I’m finished speaking. Now, if James didn’t kill his father, then it seemed feasible that Lady Clara had shot her husband. But would a mother have allowed her son to be hanged for a crime she committed? A mother such as Lady Clara, who from all accounts is a decent, respected woman who loved her son? I seriously doubt it.”
Winnie shook her head. “I don’t know why you are telling me all this, m’m, but I—”
“You’ll find out in just a minute.” Meredith moved even closer. “The problem was, I couldn’t understand how someone could have shot Lord Stalham, cleaned the gun to remove the fingerprints, and escaped the room before James arrived on the scene. Then it occurred to me. I don’t know why it took so long to realize it. The answer is, of course, that the killer never left at all. He hid instead, and was still in this room when James discovered the body. It was the only way he could avoid being seen.”
Winnie’s bottom lip began to tremble, but she made no attempt to comment.
Meredith softened her tone. “Mrs. Parker told me that when she heard the dogs barking she came down the stairs. Smithers met her at the bottom of the stairs and told her to go back to her room. At that point the constables hadn’t yet arrived. Yet she saw you in the hallway.”
Tears began to glisten in Winnie’s eyes.
“You slipped out of the library, didn’t you, Winnie, right after James and Smithers left the room. You knew how important it was to clean the gun. Mrs. Parker told me you read the newspaper. I’m guessing you read the article on how fingerprints can now be used to catch a criminal. You knew you had to remove your fingerprints. You shot Lord Stalham—”
“No!” Winnie shook her head. “No, I didn’t!”

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