The Arnifour Affair (4 page)

CHAPTER 5

V
ictor's son, Nathaniel, was a lanky, painfully thin boy of twenty-one whose pasty complexion belied the work he did outside. While he shared his father's hawkish nose he did not so much as bear a whisper of the older man's compact frame. His mother had died before Nathaniel learned to walk, the victim of a frail constitution, Lady Arnifour had informed us, right before she instructed us to go easy on the boy, as she termed him delicate in both mind and constitution like his mother.

Lady Arnifour had relayed the story of the late Mrs. Heffernan in a voice both wistful and content. It was clear she was moved at the loss suffered by the two Heffernan men, yet losing his wife had left Victor available for the attentions of the Lady herself. I was reminded again about Colin's initial suspicion of the nature of Lady Arnifour's relationship with her groundskeeper and was all but convinced that he was correct. I was beginning to believe that the only person who actually harbored any real emotion for the late Earl was the dour housekeeper, Mrs. O'Keefe. Other than her, I didn't see anyone who was truly lamenting his death.

We were seated in the kitchen with Nathaniel, Victor having already disappeared out back after making the introductions. Nathaniel was still standing by the back door, all gangly limbs and awkwardness, as he self-consciously dragged the cap from his head.

“Please . . . ,” Colin pointed to a chair across from us, “sit down. Make yourself comfortable. We are not the enemy.”

Nathaniel did not embrace Colin's gesture of camaraderie, as he remained standing a good minute longer before finally making the decision to stay, skulking over to the table, and slipping into one of the chairs without even having to pull it out.

“I shall only trouble you with a few questions,” Colin said in a voice I knew he meant to sound placating. “I'm sure you'll have discussed it all with the Yarders anyway.”

Nathaniel gave a slight nod even as he kept his gaze riveted on the table. I was thinking he looked guilty and would be likely to grunt his answers when he suddenly blurted out, “I didn't kill that rotten bastard. It wasn't me and it sure as bloody hell wasn't my father. And if you think it was you can go straight ta hell with that old piss pot inspector!”

Colin leaned back in his chair with an easy smile and casually folded his arms across his broad chest. “Piss pot. I rather like that.” Nathaniel's eyes raked across Colin's face, searching for some sign of sarcasm, but he found no such thing there. “We're not so unalike, you and me. At least not where Scotland Yard is concerned.” The young man blinked repeatedly, his outburst drained with the rapidity of a flash flood. “Now why don't you tell us what you remember about the night of the Earl's murder.”

Nathaniel snapped his eyes back to the tabletop, but not before I spotted something dark and angry trying to hide there. “It was after supper . . . ,” he began with marked reticence. “The Earl had gone off on his walk and I was watering the garden by the stables when Elsbeth came out and said she wanted ta go riding.” He shifted in his chair but did not lift his gaze. “I told her it was too late, but she wouldn't listen. She never listens ta me.”

“Was your father in the stable?” Colin asked.

“If that's what he said,” he shot back.

“Convincing.”

“What difference does it make?” He finally looked up, glaring at Colin again. “You already think we're guilty. I can see it in yer face.”

“The only thing you see on my face is that I'm beginning to find you an ungrateful little tosser. I'd suggest you knock off the ruddy attitude or I'll return Lady Arnifour's money and leave you to hang. What do you prefer?”

Nathaniel sagged and dropped his chin to his sternum so that all I could see was the sharp cut of his nose protruding from beneath his brow. This interview seemed to be yielding about as much information as we'd gotten from Elsbeth.

“All I'm asking, Nathaniel, is for you to tell us the truth of what you remember that night. And I give you my word that I'll not come to any conclusions until the solution is irrefutable. Are we agreed?” We watched the boy until he vaguely shrugged his shoulders. It would do. “Good. So Elsbeth wanted to go for a ride and you were warning her off. . . .”

Nathaniel sighed heavily. “That's right.”

“I presume it was dark and you were worried about her?”

“No . . .”

I figured Nathaniel would explain what he meant, but seconds quickly turned into minutes without so much as a hint of clarification. He sat there, morose and slouching, his gaze tucked in on himself and his arms folded like two crossed swords. He looked like a man with a great deal to hide.

“Then why, Nathaniel?” I could hear the strains of impatience seeping into Colin's voice.

“Because I knew what she was up to.” He raised his eyes just enough to meet Colin's, and behind his inky black irises I saw a flash of something unsettling I could not place. “I'm done talking,” he suddenly announced, pushing himself up from the table and stalking back outside before either Colin or I could say a word.

Colin shook his head and stabbed a crown out of his pocket, quickly running it between his fingers. “Curious.”

“Curious?! It's more than curious. It's disturbing. No wonder Varcoe's convinced he's guilty.”

He glanced at me. “Well, that should tell you something, because Varcoe's seldom right. Though I will say that I've never seen so many angry people in one house hiding so very many secrets. This place was like a tinderbox just waiting to be set off. Even Elsbeth seems to have been up to something.”

“You think that based on the word of that infuriating boy?”

“So quick to judge,” he clucked. “I'm sure that's precisely why our uninspired inspector is so eager to throw the blame on the Heffernans. Varcoe must have been ecstatic with such easy targets.” He tossed me a tight look. “But I'm not so sure.”

I nodded, mortified to discover myself aligned with the inspector.

“A crime like this is seldom so easy. The blows to the Earl's head were delivered with malice and forethought. The same is obviously true for Elsbeth. This was not some spontaneous act of vengeance; it was a purposeful and calculated crime. I will be astonished if this level of cleverness was wielded by that agitated boy.”

“But you don't know that. He could be exactly what he seems. Guilt can be an extraordinary burden to carry, especially for a boy like that.”

“A boy like that? . . . ,” Colin echoed, furiously rotating the coin.

Before I could tell him what I'd seen lurking behind the young man's eyes Victor came scurrying back inside. “Is everything okay?” he asked, a note of dread in his voice. “Nathaniel
is
a moody lad, but you mustn't hold that against him. It's my fault. I did the best I could to raise him without a mother.”

“I know he means well,” Colin answered as he slid the crown back into his pocket.

“He does!”

But I couldn't help thinking Victor was pushing too hard.

“Might you be able to answer a few more questions for me?” Colin said as he rubbed his chin.

“Of course.”

“Do you know where Nathaniel was that night while you were tending to the horses?”

Victor shifted uneasily, wringing his hands without appearing to have any awareness that he was doing so. “He was working in the garden until Miss Elsbeth asked him to saddle a horse for her, which he did. All very proper,” he added, and I wondered why he'd said that.

“And then what did he do?”

“What did he do?”

“Yes.”

He hesitated and I knew his answer before he gave it. “I don't know.”

“I see. And the first you heard of the smoke at the far end of the property was when Nathaniel ran into the stable to tell you about it, is that right?” Victor nodded. “So if I estimate that it took about thirty minutes for Elsbeth to ride down there and the attack to happen, does that sound conceivable to you? Thirty minutes?”

“Thirty?”

“Yes. You know, the number after twenty-nine.”

Victor took a step back and shrugged. “I don't know. I suppose so.”

“Right. So after you heard Elsbeth ride off, do you have any idea where Nathaniel was for any part of the next thirty minutes?”

“Where?”

“Come now, Victor, these are the easy questions.”

I suddenly found myself feeling oddly defensive of Victor and could not keep from speaking up. “We're here because Lady Arnifour believes you and Nathaniel to be innocent,” I reminded him. “Just tell us the truth.”

Victor's body sagged as his chin dipped toward the floor.

“Sit down, Victor.” I gestured to the chair his son had vacated. “You mustn't stand on formality.”

Victor slumped into it and ran a hand across his brow. His hesitation was palpable. “I don't know where Nathaniel went after Miss Elsbeth left,” he muttered. “He was upset. I thought he would come back to help me in the stable, but he didn't.”

“And
why
was he upset?” Colin cut in irritably.

“It's not what you think,” Victor answered at once. “It was Miss Elsbeth. He was upset about Miss Elsbeth.”

“I'm not thinking anything particular at this moment. So please just tell me what his quarrel with Elsbeth was about?”

“No quarrel.” Again he spoke quickly. “He wasn't
angry,
he was
upset
. You see?” His eyes sought mine and I gave a confirming nod.

“Just the same,” Colin pressed, “you've made it clear that Nathaniel was in a mood and I should very much like to know what it concerned.”

“You have to understand—”

“Mr. Heffernan!”
Colin slammed a fist on the table. “I cannot understand
anything
unless you start talking to me. I am not your judge. In fact, I am trying to be your ally. But I'll be quite useless if you insist on continuing to hinder me.” He leaned forward as though doing so might make his point clearer. “Between your son's contrarian behavior and your dissembling, I'm about ruddy well worn-out. I'm thinking the best thing you and your boy can do is throw yourselves on the mercy of the Yarders.”

“Victor,” I spoke up while Colin plastered a brooding gaze out the window, “Mr. Pendragon and I understand how determined you are to protect your son. Any parent would be.” The words caught in my throat a moment as the years I'd spent in the shadow of my mother's illness ridiculed my sentiment. Years in which the voices—the hysteria—so pernicious and invasive, had deftly peeled back the layers of her mind until the perfect family,
my
family, was forever rendered in the most brutal way. “But your employer,” I pressed ahead, determined not to be undone by the coiled remnants of my own memories, “has been murdered and his niece savagely beaten. We can only pray that she will recover. You and your boy are Scotland Yard's only suspects. You've got to help us, Victor. You must tell us everything you know. Mr. Pendragon will ferret out the truth one way or the other, I promise you that, but what you tell us may lead us to the proper resolution more quickly. And that would allow you and your son to put all of this behind you. You have to trust us, Victor.”

He turned a sorrowful gaze on me and I suddenly understood what he'd been afraid to say.

“Nathaniel cared very much for Miss Elsbeth,” he muttered under his breath. “He concerned himself with her when he shouldn't have. It was wrong. I told him so, but a boy's heart . . .” He let his words drift away.

“Did Elsbeth know?” Colin asked.

“She was a bright girl—
is
a bright girl,” he quickly corrected.

“When Nathaniel told her he didn't want her riding off by herself, what did she say?”

He grimaced and folded his hands in his lap. “She laughed. I couldn't hear much of what they said, but I did hear her tell him that he had no say over her, and she was right. It made him mad. He said foolish things.”

“Did he threaten her?”

“Absolutely not.” Victor looked straight at Colin. “He would
never
do such a thing. I raised him better than that. And he cared for her. That's what I'm trying to tell you.”

“After you heard Elsbeth ride off did you look for Nathaniel?”

He shook his head and dropped his gaze again.

“Didn't you wonder if they'd ridden off together?”

“Not after the row they'd had.”

“And you didn't see him again until he came rushing in to tell you he could see smoke at the edge of the property.”

Victor nodded sullenly.

“So he was missing,” Colin mused.

“He would
never
hurt Miss Elsbeth,” Victor said again, this time with fierce determination.

Colin's face was unreadable as he stood up. I gripped Victor's shoulder and thanked him as I walked past, telling him not to worry though I knew he would. And in truth, I thought he should.

CHAPTER 6

“S
how them to the parlor when you've finished,” Lady Arnifour instructed her housekeeper, Mrs. O'Keefe, from the doorway of the late Earl's study, where we'd been ushered. “I shall wait there.”

“Of course, mum,” came the answer in a tone more perfunctory than dutiful.

“Mind what they ask,” Lady Arnifour added as she seized the double doors. “We've no secrets here.” And with that she heaved the doors shut, leaving her declaration to hang in the air like soot.

Mrs. O'Keefe remained just inside the door where Lady Arnifour had deposited her. Between her gangly frame, all angles and knobs, pursed face, and perpetually pink complexion she looked somehow quite formidable. Even given the exacting proportions of Colin's powerful frame, it still looked like Mrs. O'Keefe could chuck him out the door if she desired. I wondered if therein lay the answer to the fate of
Mr
. O'Keefe.

”Please make yourself comfortable,” Colin said expansively as though it were his home to do so.

“I'm fine right here.”

“As you wish. I'll try not to take up much of your time.”

“See that you don't. I've a household to maintain.”

One of Colin's eyebrows arched up and I knew that wouldn't portend well for this woman. “All right then,” he tossed her a smile that glittered with frost, “after supper on the night of the Earl's murder, Nathaniel Heffernan was told by Elsbeth to saddle a horse. Did you hear their exchange?”

“I've a great many things to do after supper. Listening in on the conversations of others is not one of them.”

“So you heard nothing?”

“I heard the sound of water in the sink and the rattling of dishes and pans as I cleaned them.”

“Do you have help in the kitchen?”

“I don't need help.”

“Did you look out the window? Did you
see
Nathaniel and Elsbeth?”

“I don't spy on people and I don't listen to their conversations. I'm finding your implications offensive.”

“And I'm finding you—”

“Not very cooperative.” I leaned forward and cut him off, certain he was about to say something that would only hurt our cause. “Come now, Mrs. O'Keefe, I'm sure Lady Arnifour means you to be helpful in our investigation of her husband's murder.”

She only glared at me, but I hoped it had given Colin enough time to collect himself again. “Tell me,” he started slowly, though his voice was still tight, “how would you describe your relationship with Nathaniel and his father?”

“Professional.”

“I'm surprised given how little you're offering in the way of help.”

She scowled, pursing her lips into an almost invisible line. “Is it my help you want? Or the truth?”

“Mutually exclusive, are they? Most people make an effort to combine the two.” He stood up and glowered at her and I knew he was well finished with this woman. “You seem to display sorrow for the death of your employer and yet remain deceptive, unhelpful, and unaccountably rude. You cannot have it all ways, madam. I would suggest you choose your side with care.”

“Choosing sides, is it?!” She held her ground. “You come into this house like a rooster and think you can judge the lot of us. Well, you don't know me. I won't stand here and be accused by the likes of you.” She turned on her heels and made for the doors, but not before Colin managed to sprint past her and plant himself directly in her path.

“I've accused you of nothing more than an ill temperament,” he scoffed. “So if you're blustering about in an effort to cover some guilt, you've nothing but your own conscience to mollify.” And with a decisive flourish he swung the doors wide and stepped aside.

For a moment I thought Mrs. O'Keefe might actually step on his shoes, but she kept her deportment impeccable as she swept past him and headed back to the sanctuary of her kitchen.

Colin stared after her, his expression moody and dark, and I too felt the better part of our journey had been for naught. All we'd done was alienate the people whose cooperation we most needed. Lady Arnifour was the only person who wanted us here and her motives were questionable at best. She wasn't even bothering to play the grieving widow our sovereign had single-handedly elevated to an art form, which left only Victor Heffernan to be counted as an ally—and I wasn't entirely convinced about him.

“What an insufferable cow,” Colin groused as he abruptly dropped to the floor and quickly knocked off twenty push-ups.

“Well, you didn't exactly win her over with your charm. We might need her help, you know.”

He stood up again and cast me a frown. “She has no intention of providing any help, so I'll not be bothered with the likes of her. Come on, I've had enough of this place. Let's be on our way.”

“Ever patient.” I snickered. “I'll let Lady Arnifour know.”

“Tell her we won't likely be back for several days. I've had quite enough of this brood for right now,” he grumbled.

I sighed. “She won't like that—”

He scowled as he headed for the door. “I'll solve this case, but at the moment I don't really give a bloody bollocks what she likes.”