The Murder at Sissingham Hall (15 page)

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Authors: Clara Benson

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Mystery, #British Detectives, #Cozy, #Women Sleuths

BOOK: The Murder at Sissingham Hall
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‘That all seems simple enough,’ said Jameson, ‘and yet you said the situation was complicated. Is there something else?’

Mr. Pomfrey coughed.

‘What I have just said refers to Sir Neville’s will
as it stands
. However, I feel I must inform you that that was not what Sir Neville himself intended.’

The inspector paused in his writing.

‘Indeed?’ he said.

The solicitor coughed again.

‘Yes. Sir Neville summoned me to Sissingham on Friday with regard to a new will. His wishes had changed and he wanted me to draw up a new document as soon as possible.’

‘And what were the terms of the new will?’

‘Under the new will, Lady Strickland would have received all Sir Neville’s money and Hugh MacMurray nothing.’

‘He would still have inherited Sissingham though?’

‘Yes but not until after the death of Lady Strickland.’

‘And Sir Neville died before the new will could be drawn up and signed. The old will stands, in other words.’

‘That is so,’ replied Mr. Pomfrey.

I was astonished. So what Joan had overheard was true! Sir Neville had indeed been planning to write his cousin out of his will. That would have been a huge blow to the MacMurrays. Of course, they would have Sissingham to look forward to but Rosamund would probably live for many years yet and from all I had heard, they were desperately in need of funds now. Sir Neville’s death had occurred just in time for them, it seemed.

‘Were you aware of the new will, Lady Strickland?’ asked Inspector Jameson.

‘No, not at all,’ said Rosamund, who indeed had looked as surprised as anyone at the news.

‘Have you any idea why Sir Neville might have decided to write his cousin out of his will?’

‘I’m afraid not. I do know that Neville disapproved rather of Hugh’s life in town—they run with a very fast set, you know and I gather that Hugh has not always behaved quite as he ought but I don’t know of any particular reason why Neville should have taken against him so.’

The inspector addressed the solicitor once again.

‘To your knowledge, was Mr. MacMurray aware of the fact that he was about to be disinherited?’

‘Of that, I have no idea,’ said Mr. Pomfrey primly.

I hesitated. Should I tell the inspector about the conversation Joan had overheard outside the library? I was undecided but Jameson saw my expression and took matters out of my hands.

‘Mr. Knox, I think perhaps you have something to tell me,’ he said gently.

I grimaced but the damage was done. Reluctantly, I related the story that Joan had told me.

‘This is all hearsay, of course,’ I said. ‘You will have to ask Miss Havelock herself. Or better still, Hugh MacMurray.’

‘Thank you Mr. Knox, I shall,’ said Inspector Jameson. He made as if to rise but checked himself. ‘Ah yes,’ he said. ‘I almost forgot. Lady Strickland, as you know there is some doubt as to how the murderer entered and left the study on the night of your husband’s death. Rogers the butler tells me that the spare key with which he gained access to the study yesterday was certainly locked safely away in a drawer in his own room, and so can be eliminated from our inquiries. However, he says that there is a second set of keys to the house, which are kept locked in a drawer in Sir Neville’s desk. Were you aware of their existence?’

Rosamund looked distractedly at him, as though not quite understanding the question.

‘Yes,’ she replied at last. ‘Yes, I believe there are. I’d forgotten about them. Is it important?’

‘Perhaps not. Who had the key to the desk drawer?’

‘Why, Neville, I suppose.’

‘Was there only one key?’

‘I really have no idea. I imagine so. Have you asked Rogers?’

‘Rogers says that Sir Neville kept the only key to the drawer in his pocket. He is not aware of the existence of another key.’

‘Well, then, I dare say he’s right,’ said Rosamund. ‘But what has all this to do with anything? If the house keys are locked in the drawer and Neville had the drawer key in his pocket, then that’s that.’ She spoke with finality.

‘As you say, that’s that,’ agreed Jameson. ‘A key was indeed found in Sir Neville’s pocket. I have sent for it and we shall try it in the drawer when it arrives. If the house keys are in the drawer, then they can be disregarded too.’

He thanked us all and went out.

I wondered what he meant by his questions. Presumably the second bunch of house keys was locked safely away, in which case it was irrelevant. It seemed to me that the inspector was making things unnecessarily complicated. I supposed, however, that he had to be as thorough as possible in his investigation.

My mind turned to the will. It certainly looked as though Hugh MacMurray had had a strong motive for killing Sir Neville, although since he had been present in the drawing-room during the fatal quarter of an hour, I could not see how he could possibly have done it. In fact, the only people who could conceivably have done it in the time, having been out of the room during those fifteen minutes, were Bobs, Simon Gale and Joan Havelock. The idea of Bobs or Joan doing it was frankly ridiculous. I was less sure about Gale but on further reflection I could see no reason why he should have done it; after all, he had a comfortable berth here, with a kind employer. He had nothing to gain from Sir Neville’s death and everything to lose. No, the more I considered it, the more firmly convinced I became that the police were barking up the wrong tree. It must have been someone from outside.

I left Rosamund with Mr. Pomfrey and went into the conservatory, where I found Sylvia staring absently out of the window. She turned as I entered.

‘There you are,’ she said. ‘I wondered where you had got to.’

‘Rosamund wanted me to come and hear what Mr. Pomfrey had to say about Sir Neville’s will.’ I said it as carelessly as possible but her eyes narrowed and she looked at me suspiciously.

‘That sounds very cosy,’ was all she said, however.

Faced with such a seeming lack of interest, I prepared to leave the room. Sylvia relented.

‘Don’t leave me in suspense!’ she exclaimed. ‘What did he say?’

I struggled briefly. I was certain that Mr. Pomfrey would be deeply discomposed at the thought of my spreading the news about Sir Neville’s intention to disinherit his cousin. On the other hand, Rosamund had not actually said that I must not tell. The temptation to indiscretion won the day and I related all that had been said in the morning-room. Sylvia listened, wide-eyed.

‘Gracious!’ she said. ‘If it
was
Hugh with Neville outside the library the other day, then that gives him a very strong motive for murder.’

Angela entered the room as Sylvia spoke and heard the last part of the sentence.

‘Am I intruding?’ she asked.

‘No, not at all, listen to this,’ Sylvia replied eagerly, and repeated the story. I was somewhat concerned about the news spreading so fast but had to admit that if the cat had been well and truly let out of the bag then it was my own fault.

Angela absorbed the information in silence for a moment.

‘That certainly looks bad for Hugh as far as motive is concerned,’ she said at last, ‘but I still don’t see how he could possibly have done it. He was in the drawing-room with the rest of us during the period in question.’

‘But what if the murder didn’t take place during that period?’ I said. ‘According to Inspector Jameson, it could have been committed at any time between a quarter to eleven and half-past one, if the medical evidence is to be believed.’

‘Yes but if it happened after eleven o’clock, then it means that it couldn’t have been done by anybody in the house—well, none of the guests, at any rate,’ said Angela. ‘We have two possibilities: one, that the murder was committed by an intruder from outside, in which case it might have taken place at any time during those three hours or so, since he must have entered through the French windows; two, that it was committed by somebody inside the house, in which case it must have taken place after a quarter to eleven, when you and Rosamund spoke to Neville, and before eleven, when Rogers locked the house up. After eleven o’clock it wouldn’t have been possible for any of us to leave the house and enter the study from outside. Unless, of course—’ she narrowed her eyes for a moment, as though considering a new idea. ‘It’s interesting what you say about that second set of keys, but since they stayed locked up in Neville’s desk drawer I suppose there’s nothing doing there.’

‘What about the servants?’ I said.

‘It’s possible but the same facts apply.’ replied Angela. ‘The house was locked up at eleven with everyone inside it, although I suppose it’s just barely possible that one of them left the house before that time and returned when the doors were unlocked the next morning. I imagine the police have occupied themselves with that inquiry, however.’

Sylvia was frowning.

‘Wait!’ she said. ‘Why are we assuming that the murderer entered through the French windows? Let’s say that someone from the house did do it. Why couldn’t he have entered the study through the door? Perhaps Neville simply let him in.’

‘Perhaps,’ said Angela, considering. ‘It certainly might have happened that way but it would still have to have been between a quarter to eleven and eleven o’clock. When Neville was found, the study door had been locked from the inside, which means that the murderer would have had to leave through the French windows and come back in another way, perhaps through the side door, perhaps some other way that we haven’t thought of yet.’

‘And it also means that the only people who could have done it are still Bobs, Joan and Simon Gale,’ said Sylvia. ‘Oh, it’s too absurd for words! It
must
have been an intruder from outside.’

Angela shook her head.

‘I have the feeling that the police are coming to a rather different conclusion,’ she said seriously. ‘That is what I came in to tell you. A few minutes ago I spoke to Joan, who has an enviable knack for getting information out of the servants. It appears that the police have not been able to find any sign that the crime was an “outside job”, as I believe it is called. They are inclined to believe that it was committed by someone inside the house.’

‘Then they’re wrong,’ said Sylvia stoutly, ‘or they’ve got all their times wrong.’

‘I must say I agree,’ I said. ‘The fact that there is no evidence for an intruder doesn’t necessarily prove it was done by one of the household. Perhaps the intruder didn’t leave any evidence.’

‘It would have been difficult for him not to. It’s been very muddy since the rain on Friday,’ Angela observed.

‘Yes, but we have all been tramping about the grounds since then. Any tracks could easily have been erased. And if someone from inside did it, wouldn’t he have left footprints?’

‘I don’t think he would. Remember that the terrace runs right round the house. There would have been no need for him to get his shoes dirty at all,’ replied Angela.

‘Even assuming it was an inside job, I don’t see how it could have been done in those fifteen minutes,’ said Sylvia, thinking. ‘It doesn’t make sense. And the very idea of Bobs or Joan doing it is ridiculous!’

‘But what about Gale?’ I said. ‘He went out of the room and didn’t come back. He says he finished some work and then went to bed but do we have any evidence of that?’

We fell silent, considering Simon Gale as a suspect.

‘He
could
have done it, I suppose,’ I said at last. ‘But what about a motive? He seems rather a nervous type but he told me he was very happy here. What reason could he have for killing Sir Neville?’

As soon as I said it, however, my mind jumped back to the row between Gwen and Joan on the night Sir Neville died. What was it that Gwen had said? Something about Joan mooning about after Gale. I had dismissed the accusation as mere spite but what if it were true? And what if Joan’s feelings were returned? Perhaps there was an actual understanding between them. I wondered how Sir Neville would react to the news.

‘Do you think there was anything in what Gwen said the other night about Joan and Gale?’ I asked tentatively.

The other two looked surprised.

‘You mean about Joan being in love with Simon?’ said Sylvia. ‘I don’t know. I thought it was just Gwen being spiteful. Joan always was a bit of a dark horse, though, and I suppose Simon Gale does rather seem like the kind of lost cause that would attract someone like her. Is it important?’

‘That depends,’ I replied. ‘I was just wondering whether Sir Neville would have approved of an engagement between them.’

‘Oh, I see,’ said Sylvia. ‘You’re picturing Neville as the stern guardian, throwing Simon out of the house and locking Joan up so she can never see him again. But really, you’ve got it all wrong. Neville simply wasn’t that sort. I don’t suppose he would have been too pleased if in fact they
are
engaged, but I can’t see him being all Victorian about it either. No, that won’t do as a motive for murder, Charles.’

‘Well, you knew Sir Neville better than I,’ I said, reluctantly abandoning my theory. ‘I suppose it does seem rather far-fetched.’

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