The Riddle at Gipsy's Mile (An Angela Marchmont Mystery 4) (7 page)

BOOK: The Riddle at Gipsy's Mile (An Angela Marchmont Mystery 4)
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Miles is a jolly good egg,

said Freddy,

and I won

t hear a word said against him. They

re very happy, you know, the two of them. You wouldn

t think so, would you? After all, they are such different characters. And then, of course, she is rather older t
h
an he. But they understand each other. She is a woman of enthusiasms, as you well know, and he

well, he likes a quiet life. He is quite prepared to turn a blind eye to her peccadilloes provided she lets him have that. It was his idea to move to Kent, you
k
now. London was too much for him, I believe. But Marguerite still goes up to town for her art exhibitions, and always has a proté

or two hanging about down here, so they rub along quite contentedly.

There was a silence as Angela absorbed this informatio
n. She was a little startled at Freddy

s perspicacity, and began to see him in a new light. She glanced at him sideways as he drove. She had always supposed him to be rather empty-headed, but she wondered whether she had not perhaps done him an injustice.
Shallow and lazy he certainly was, but he seemed to be more observant than she thought.


You

re wondering now whether I won

t make rather a good reporter, aren

t you?

he said, to her surprise.

I can see it.


If you can read minds like that, then I shoul
d say you certainly shall,

said Angela.


It

s just a knack,

he said modestly.


I see I shall have to watch my thoughts.


If you have no secrets, then you have nothing to fear from me,

he said.

Or from anyone, in fact,

he added.


That

s very reassurin
g,

said Angela dryly.

SEVEN

They had now turned in through the great gates of Blakeney Park, and Angela turned her attention to their surroundings. They drove up a long avenue of trees, and finally emerged into the open, where they got their first view of
the house. Blakeney was a large, stately pile built in the Jacobean style, in red brick with mullioned windows and tall chimneys. It was situated overlooking a formal garden and lake, from the centre of which sprang a magnificently florid fountain depict
i
ng an uncomfortable intertwining of nymphs, cherubs, mermaids and sea-creatures various. The grand walk up to the house was lined with statues, and an arched loggia ran along the front of the building. It was all very fine.


Here we are,

said Freddy.

Wat
ch out for fireworks!


What do you mean?

said Angela.


Why, between Lucy and Lady Alice, of course,

he said.

Oh, they

re very genteel about it and put on a show of unity, but that

s only because of Gil and the estate. Everyone knows that in actual fact
they can

t stand each other.

The car drew up before the grand entrance and they alighted. The others had already arrived and were just entering the house. Gilbert Blakeney was there to welcome them.


Hallo! Hallo! How marvellous to see you again!

he sa
id, greeting Angela in delight as though she were an old friend he had not seen in years, instead of a new acquaintance he had met only two days ago. Freddy received a similarly rapturous welcome, with a bone-crushing hand-shake and a clap on the shoulder.
Gil was rather like an eager puppy, Angela thought. There was something very appealing about his child-like simplicity and undisguised friendliness.


Shall we go and have drinks?

said Lucy, who was standing beside him to greet the guests. They were about
to move off, when she suddenly said,

Oh, I almost forgot

Gil, you must speak to Hardesty about the broken fence in the bottom field. I

ve told him about it before, but yesterday the cows got through to the nursery and broke a window-pane in one of the g
r
eenhouses. It

s really too bad. You shall have to reprimand him.

An expression of panic passed briefly across Gil

s face.


Oh

ah

yes,

he said.

You told me about it last week, didn

t you? I meant to do it, but it must have slipped from my mind somehow. I

ll do it tomorrow.

He looked sheepish and apologetic, almost as though he were afraid that he was going to be made to sit in the corner and write out a hundred lines, but Lucy smiled indulgently up at him and patted his arm affectionately, and his expres
sion changed to one of relief.

They made an odd couple, Lucy and Gilbert: he tall, fair and loping, and she compact with brown hair and an evident firmness of purpose. Lucy was not a beauty by any means, but she had the rosy cheeks and clear skin that spok
e of a life lived in the open air, and this, together with her calm, sensible manner, rendered her not unattractive. There was something rather touching about the way she took Gil gently in hand and guided him. She was already acting the part of the chate
l
aine of Blakeney Park, Angela noticed, even though she was not yet Gil

s wife and so did not live at the house but in Littlechurch, where she looked after the family home left to her by her parents.

The guests were shown into a large saloon which could no
t have contrasted more strongly with the darkness of the panelled entrance-hall, being light and airy, with long windows that presented a delightful view over the lake and the fountain. The room was furnished elegantly and comfortably, and had clearly bee
n
in the hands of someone with an eye for such things. A tall, silent manservant held a tray of drinks, and they all took one with varying degrees of alacrity.


Mother did all this a few years ago, just before the Governor died,

said Gil, in reply to Angel
a

s complimentary remarks.

She always took great pride in the house. She will be sorry to have to give it up. Oh, there you are, Mother. Angela was just saying how much she admires your taste.

The last remark was addressed to a woman who had just entered
the room. This was Lady Alice. She nodded to the assembled company, then approached Gil and Angela and introduced herself to the latter. Her manner was somewhat distant but gracious enough, and Angela regarded her with discreet curiosity. Lady Alice Blak
e
ney had evidently once been a great beauty, for there were traces of it still in her face. She was small, with dainty hands and ankles, and although a little on the plump side, still had a narrow waist which she took care to accentuate in her tailoring, e
v
en though it went against the dictates of current fashion. Her face was almost unlined and her skin was fair and so uniform in texture that Angela strongly suspected her of resorting in some measure to cosmetic preparations. She looked nothing like her so
n
, who presumably took after his father.

Marguerite descended on them, waving her arms and looking rather like a giant and exotic bird. She kissed Lady Alice, who looked somewhat startled.


Darlings, so kind of you to invite us all,

said Marguerite.

Angel
a was simply
dying
to see Blakeney Park. Isn

t it the most beautiful house you

ve ever seen, Angela?

She did not wait for a reply, but went on in the same breath,

My, but aren

t we having an exciting weekend, with all these dead bodies turning up all ove
r the place!

Gil looked astonished.


Have they found another one?

he asked.


I was exaggerating just a little, of course,

said Marguerite.

No, we just have the one up to now. Lady Alice, I ought to warn you that Angela simply can

t go anywhere without
falling over a dead body. She has
quite
a knack for it! Murderers and criminals seem to follow her about everywhere.


Indeed?

said Lady Alice, with polite interest.

That must be most inconvenient, my dear.

Angela laughed.


I have had rather an eventful
time of it lately, it

s true,

she said,

but I expect it will all calm down sooner or later. It

s not as though I seek it out deliberately.


And now we even have Scotland Yard down here,

said Marguerite.

I expect they

ll want to ask us questions about
what we

ve all been doing this week. I do hope you have a good alibi, Gil.


Scotland Yard?

said Gil blankly.

But whatever for? What have they to do with all this?


I guess it

s just a matter of routine,

said Miles, who had heard the conversation and
now came over to join them.

But I dare say Angela will be able to tell us more about it, since she

s great pals with the inspector who came down yesterday.


I don

t know much,

said Angela,

but I think there is some uncertainty as to how the woman died.

She said nothing about the cloak room ticket, unsure as to how much information she ought to give away and deciding to err on the side of caution.


You

ll be investigating, of course, won

t you, Angela?

said Cynthia.


Good gracious, no!

said Angela.

I

ve already told you

it

s nothing to do with me. I

ve told the police everything I know, and now they will have to make what they can of it.


Have they found out who she was, yet?

asked Lucy.


I don

t believe so,

said Angela.


But how on earth did she g
et into the ditch? It

s all most odd. I simply can

t understand it. How did her face get all smashed up like that?


Better not think about it, my dear,

said Lady Alice.

The whole thing sounds most unpleasant. Perhaps one should be asking what she was do
ing running about the countryside alone. A woman like that is bound to get herself murdered, or worse.


I don

t think there

s any suggestion that she was alone,

said Angela.

I believe the police are assuming that she came here with someone.


Alone or n
ot, I am certain that she was no better than she should be,

said Lady Alice with finality, and began to talk determinedly about an exhibition of sculpture that Marguerite was planning to hold in Littlechurch. It was clear that she did not wish to pursue
t
he subject of the dead woman, and so the conversation passed on to other things.

At one o

clock luncheon was served and they were conducted into a large, stately dining-room. Angela found herself sitting next to Freddy, who distracted her at frequent inter
vals by nudging her significantly whenever anybody said something he considered to be of note.

Herbert and Gil began to talk about shooting, while Miles put in a remark now and again. Marguerite declaimed loudly about her exhibition to anyone who would lis
ten, while Cynthia, curious as ever, said to Lucy:


And so next year is the wedding! You must be looking forward to it very much. When is it, exactly?


It

s to be in August,

said Lucy.

The engagement was announced in the
Times
last July.


August! And t
hen Blakeney Park will be all yours! How marvellous!

said Cynthia, with her usual lack of tact.

Freddy nudged Angela so hard that she almost spilt her soup, and nodded surreptitiously towards Lady Alice, who wore a furious expression.


And shall you take
a honeymoon?

went on Cynthia.

I understand Italy is supposed to be delightful. The Knowleses went to Venice last year after their wedding

you remember them, don

t you, Freddy?


Oh, certainly,

replied Freddy.

As a matter of fact I spoke to Rupert only
a week or two ago. He was rather down, I must say, although he is convinced that the separation is just a temporary fancy on Diana

s part.

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