The Problem at Two Tithes (An Angela Marchmont Mystery Book 7) (19 page)

‘Pfft!’ said Marthe, who cared not what a man did for a living provided he made her mistress happy. ‘He will give it up for you. Does he love you?’

‘I doubt it very much,’ said Angela. ‘He’s far too wrapped up in his own cleverness to think about anyone but himself for more than about ten minutes.’

‘But did he
tell
you he loved you?’ persisted Marthe.

‘He said many pretty things, and I should have been a fool to believe any of them,’ said Angela, trying not to smile, for she was as foolish as the next woman in that regard.

‘And what about you? Do you love him?’

‘Of course not!’ said Angela indignantly. ‘I told you, the man’s a criminal. I should hope I had more sense than to fall in love with him.’

‘But—’

‘But nothing,’ said Angela. ‘I’ve told you everything now, and you shall have to be satisfied with that. It was very wrong of me to go away with him, and the best thing to do will be to forget it ever happened.’

‘Then you did not enjoy it?’ said Marthe. ‘He was not good company?’

Angela blinked. She was reluctant to admit, even to herself, how well they had got along together for those few days.

‘Let us say I’ve satisfied my curiosity, and I won’t do anything of the sort again,’ she said after a pause. She saw Marthe’s disbelieving look, and went on sharply, ‘I said goodbye to him and I meant it.’

Marthe did not reply, but as she turned to put the clothes in a drawer she happened to glance in the glass that stood above the dressing-table, and saw reflected in it Angela gazing at the pretty bracelet she had brought back from Italy. Marthe smiled to herself.

‘Anyway,’ went on Angela, ‘you don’t really suppose I don’t trust you, do you, Marthe? You know I rely on you absolutely.’

‘Of course I know it,
madame
,’ said Marthe. ‘And I will never betray your trust.’

‘What a provoking infant Freddy is,’ said Angela. ‘I hope you took the money.’

‘
Mais oui
,’ said Marthe complacently. ‘I am not stupid.’

They both laughed, the best of friends once more.

There was a stiff atmosphere at the dinner-table that evening. Marthe’s concoction had done a good deal to restore sobriety and remove the headache, but still Angela would have preferred to spend the evening lying down in a dimly-lit room. Instead, she sat under the full glare of the Cardews’ chandeliers, feigning an appetite and pretending to be completely unaffected by the events of the afternoon. To her annoyance, Mrs. Randall was absent—indisposed, as Elisabeth, ever mindful of appearances, told the servants—and dinner proceeded in a frigid silence. Humphrey, indeed, looked once or twice as though he were on the point of beginning a lecture, but each time he glanced at his wife and changed his mind. Angela was sorry for it, for she thought any kind of conversation would have been preferable to the cold shoulder. She took a sip of the water which had been pointedly served to her, and looked about her idly. After a few minutes, she became aware that Doggett, the butler, was trying to catch her eye, and raised her eyebrows inquiringly. He glanced at Sir Humphrey and Lady Cardew to make quite sure they could not see him, then looked significantly at Mrs. Randall’s empty place and cast his eyes briefly upwards to indicate her present location. Angela nodded almost imperceptibly, trying not to smile. He glanced about him again then made a surreptitious motion as of one raising a glass to his mouth. Angela had to look down at her plate so as not to giggle.

‘Are you quite all right, Angela?’ said Elisabeth, catching sight of her. ‘You’re not feeling
ill
, are you?’

‘No, I’m perfectly well, thank you, Elisabeth,’ said Angela cheerfully. ‘The fish is delicious, by the way. There’s nothing quite like a hearty dinner after a day spent in the pursuit of health-giving activities out of doors, don’t you agree?’

Elisabeth pursed her lips but said nothing. Angela cast a sly glance at Doggett, who was staring determinedly at the ceiling, and was just resolving that she should make him laugh by hook or by crook when the sound of the doorbell was heard.

‘Who on earth could that be at this time?’ said Humphrey. ‘I had better go and see.’

He got up and went out, and was gone for some time.

‘Where can he have got to?’ said Elisabeth eventually, forgetting for the moment that she was not meant to be speaking to Angela. She was just about to rise from her seat and go after him when he returned, followed, to their surprise, by young Peter Montgomery, who was white-faced and frightened-looking.

‘Peter! What are you doing here?’ said Elisabeth. ‘Where is your mother?’

‘I’m afraid there’s bad news, my dear,’ said Humphrey. He looked as though he did not quite know where he was. ‘The police have arrested Kathie.’

If Sergeant Primm had hoped to deliver the boy to his aunt and uncle and then return straight to duty, he was disappointed, for of course they would not let him go until he had explained himself fully—and even then that was not enough to satisfy them, for the police could not simply go about arresting the sister-in-law of a Sir Humphrey without giving a satisfactory reason for it, and so they interrogated him at length and with great outrage and dignity, and Primm did the best he could to answer their questions without losing his temper.

Angela, meanwhile, had been the only one among the adults with the presence of mind to ask Peter whether he had had anything to eat, and when he replied in the negative had handed him into the care of the servants and instructed them to give the boy some dinner. When she returned to the drawing-room, she found Humphrey and Elisabeth in a great state, while Sergeant Primm was showing signs of trying to edge towards the door.

‘But it’s quite absurd,’ Humphrey was saying. ‘Surely you can’t possibly think that my wife’s sister had anything to do with this matter.’

‘I’m afraid we had no choice but to arrest her, sir,’ said Sergeant Primm. ‘We arrested Mr. Norman Tipping earlier this evening on suspicion of murdering his father, and since Mrs. Montgomery was with him at around the time the murder is thought to have been committed, we had to arrest her too on suspicion of being an accessory.’

‘But you can’t put her in prison!’ said Elisabeth.

‘Don’t worry—she’ll be well treated,’ said the sergeant, ‘and she may be allowed out on bail if someone is willing to stand for her, although that won’t be until early next week now.’

‘How much is that likely to cost?’ said Humphrey.

‘Of course we will stand for her,’ said Elisabeth, casting an impatient glance at her husband.

‘May we see her?’ said Angela.

‘Not tonight,’ said Sergeant Primm. ‘She may see a solicitor tomorrow, though.’

‘We’ll arrange that,’ said Humphrey. ‘I shall speak to Mr. Prendeville this evening.’

‘I suggest you do so,’ said Primm.

‘Where is Inspector Jameson?’ said Angela suddenly. ‘May we speak to him?’

‘Inspector Jameson returned to London this morning,’ replied the sergeant. ‘The case is now back in the hands of the Surrey police. And now I’m afraid I must go. I shall tell Mrs. Montgomery that young Peter is in safe hands. She was very anxious about him.’

He went off, leaving the three of them staring at each other in consternation.

‘What is to be done now?’ said Elisabeth at last. ‘How could they possibly suspect Kathie of murder? I knew nothing of this. Why didn’t she tell me?’

‘They don’t suspect her of murder,’ said Angela. ‘They think Norman Tipping did it and that she’s lying to protect him. Unfortunately, they were the only people seen in the area at the time Tom Tipping died—and of course, it’s always family who are the first ones to be suspected when someone is killed.’

‘But I don’t understand,’ said Humphrey. ‘How are they supposed to have done it?’

He and Elisabeth seemed to have forgotten their opposition to Angela’s investigative activities, and they now looked to her for information. Angela explained her supposition about the clue of the gunshot, and how it had initially seemed to exonerate Norman and Kathie, although in actual fact it was not conclusive evidence at all.

‘Then Daniel Tyler’s story counts for nothing and they have no alibi?’ said Elisabeth.

Angela admitted that was pretty much the case.

‘But then what was the sound that was heard?’ said Humphrey.

‘I don’t know,’ said Angela. ‘Perhaps it was something else entirely—a car backfiring, or something. Of course, if the defence can convince the jury that the sound
was
the shot that killed Tom Tipping, then that will go very much in Norman and Kathie’s favour, but a determined prosecution will certainly try to plant a doubt in their minds.’

Elisabeth and Humphrey stared at each other. This talk of defence and prosecution made it all real, somehow.

‘What will Mother say when I tell her?’ said Elisabeth suddenly. ‘She’ll be terribly upset. How on earth am I to break the news?’

‘Leave it until tomorrow,’ said Humphrey. ‘Don’t worry yourself about it now. Perhaps we can even keep it from her for a while if you think she is too delicate to bear it.’

Angela raised her eyebrows but kept her thoughts to herself. Her mind was busy. She very much wanted to know why Inspector Jameson had returned to London. Had he known that Kathie was about to be arrested? He must have done, she supposed. Perhaps that was why he had withdrawn from the case. If that was so, then there would be no help to be had from that quarter. It must have been terribly difficult for him to leave Kathie to her fate, but Angela knew him to be a man of integrity and was certain he would not shirk his duty. Still, there was nothing she could do about that. The most important thing now was to prove somehow that Norman Tipping and Kathie Montgomery had had nothing to do with the murder of Tom Tipping. But how was that to be done? Angela supposed everything would now be in the hands of the lawyers, and hoped that Humphrey was prepared to pay for a good one.

Just then, Peter sidled into the room and went across to Angela.

‘Have you eaten?’ she said.

‘Not much,’ he said.

‘You had better go to bed, Peter,’ said Elisabeth. ‘Angela is sleeping in your room at the moment, so you must go in the blue room.’

‘Come on, I’ll take you,’ said Angela, who saw that the boy needed comfort but was unlikely to get it from his aunt and uncle.

‘Why did Aunt Elisabeth put you in the children’s room?’ said Peter as they climbed the stairs.

‘It was my room when I was a girl,’ replied Angela. ‘I think she thought I would like it.’

‘Oh,’ he said. ‘Then the horse must be yours.’

‘Which horse?’ said Angela.

The little wooden one with a chipped hoof. I found it in the cupboard. I thought it didn’t belong to anyone, so I took it.’

Just then a little flash of memory came back to Angela and she recalled the toy in question, which she had been given for her birthday one year. She had called it Dancer, and for a while it had been her favourite plaything.

‘Do you still have it?’ she said.

‘Yes,’ said Peter. ‘It’s at home. I’ll give it back to you tomorrow, I promise. I’m sorry I took it.’

‘Not at all,’ said Angela. ‘You shall keep it if you like. I was very fond of that horse but I have no use for it any more, and I am only glad that someone else has found it and is looking after it for me.’

They had now arrived at the door of the blue room.

‘Are they going to hang Mother?’ said Peter suddenly. He looked frightened.

‘Why, of course not,’ said Angela. ‘You mustn’t think like that. The police are doing their best to find the person who killed Mr. Tipping, and they’ve made a little mistake, but it will all be resolved very soon. Now, your mother is probably terribly worried about you, so you must be very brave for her sake while you are here. Your aunt and uncle will look after you, and you must help them all you can.’

He nodded.

‘Tomorrow we shall think about what is to be done,’ she went on, ‘but in the meantime you must get a good night’s sleep, or you’ll be no use to anyone.’

‘I will,’ he promised. He turned to enter the room. ‘Goodnight, Mrs. Marchmont,’ he said.

‘You must call me Angela,’ she said. ‘And if you feel frightened in the night, or anything like that, you may come to me, since I’m the one who stole your room.’

He smiled and went in, and Angela returned to the drawing-room. When she entered, she immediately had the impression that Humphrey and Elisabeth had been talking about her in her absence, and this impression was shortly afterwards confirmed when Humphrey coughed and said:

‘Ah, Angela.’

He fell silent.

‘Yes, Humphrey?’ she returned politely.

He tried again.

‘This dreadful business,’ he said. ‘Of course, there’s no question of Kathie’s guilt. The police have obviously made a terrible mistake.’

‘They have acted on the evidence they have, and so to that extent they’ve done exactly what they ought to have done,’ said Angela.

‘Still, we can’t have innocent people being put in prison,’ said Humphrey. He paused. ‘You are by way of being an expert in these matters. I don’t suppose you have any idea of who really committed the crime?’

‘No, I don’t. As you may remember, I promised at your specific request not to do any investigating,’ said Angela, who after all was only human and could not resist a dig.

‘Yes, you did,’ said Humphrey, bowing his head. ‘And now I am asking you to break that promise and look into it for us. The police have evidently decided they have the right people in custody, and so we cannot expect any further help from them. Please, Angela. If you won’t do it for us, then at least do it for Kathie.’

Angela looked at her brother and sister-in-law and pitied them. They were so constrained by self-imposed custom and manners that they were completely at a loss when presented with a situation such as this one. She relented.

‘Why, of course I’ll look into it,’ she said. ‘I don’t like seeing Kathie in gaol any more than you do. Now, I don’t say I can solve the thing, but I’ll do what I can. I know,’ she said, as a sudden thought struck her. ‘I’ll get Freddy to help me.’