The Winter Ground (33 page)

I found Alec without delay, but it was a considerable challenge to keep from blurting until we were right away from the tents and from all the wagons. I took him up to the pool at the foot of the waterfall where our voices would be drowned by the crashing of the water and where we could easily see anyone approaching.

‘Earth-shattering news, darling,’ I said, ‘and yet, and yet, you’re going to kick yourself when you hear it, because in the five minutes that I’ve known all kinds of odd puzzles have been fitting together.’

‘Shall I go and get a snare drum from Mr Wolf?’ said Alec and, although I had been all ready simply to tell him, his disdain in the face of my excitement turned me mulish and made me want to give him, as Nanny Palmer always used to say, ‘a spoonful of porridge from yesterday’s pan’. Unfortunately, Alec saw this plan forming and treated me to a withering look. ‘Oh, all right then,’ I said, ‘and don’t ever tell me I’m not an angel, because I’m far more of one than you deserve, frankly.’

‘Get on with it, Dandy. It’s freezing.’

‘If Ina Wilson,’ I began, ‘is indeed looking forward to an imminent change in her life, the way you thought she was, I know what it is. She is, I should imagine, hoping to leave Albert to join her lover as soon as his circumstances resolve themselves.’ I paused to allow the excitement to mount even further. ‘I should imagine that she hopes to become, after her divorce and remarriage, and the death of her brother-in-law-to-be, the Marchioness of Buckie.’

Alec, who really is quite good value sometimes, gave a long low whistle with his eyebrows lost somewhere in his hair.

‘How did you find out?’ he said.

‘They were seen. By Akilina Prebrezhensky, kneeling up in her bed looking out of her window at the stars on the night of the show.’

‘Peeping through the banisters,’ said Alec. ‘A thing that all children do and all adults forget they do. Is she sure?’

‘Absolutely, and she’s a remarkably stout-hearted little person – I have not a shadow of a doubt on the matter. Ina and Robin crept out to a short tryst in the moonlight while no one was looking. And that was the reason he was so utterly pole-axed by me going and telling him I turned around and asking him about Ina leaving and what he saw!’

‘He must have thought you were threatening him with exposure,’ said Alec, beginning to smile about it.

‘And that’s why he was so unsure of what to tell me and why he suddenly turned on the charm – unable to believe his luck that I didn’t know and trying to stop me thinking about it any more.’

‘They were taking a bit of a risk, weren’t they? Albert was right there in the tent. What if he had turned around?’

‘Well, maybe it wasn’t a tryst exactly,’ I said. ‘Maybe Ina dragged Robin out to scold him about turning up there. It was her only chance to get him on his own. And she
was
furious with him, livid.’

‘Which all of a sudden begins to make sense, doesn’t it?’ said Alec, nodding. ‘We never could get to the bottom of why she loathed him – the hints about the sickroom gossip never convinced me – but, of course, she was angry!’

‘Besides, she does have a heart,’ I said. ‘She does care for Albert a little and even if she’s leaving him she wasn’t happy to see him be made such a fool of.’

‘Not that he knew.’

‘Yes, but he will, afterwards. He’ll know then and he’ll spend the rest of his life wincing about it.’

‘He only has himself to blame,’ said Alec, sounding rather heartless. ‘He was never going to make her happy and as for all this nonsense since the ’flu – he’s had a longer run with her than he deserved to, if you ask me.’

‘I suppose so,’ I said. ‘And I suppose one can understand the attraction of Robin – when one has Albert Wilson to set him against, I mean.’

‘I wonder how they met,’ said Alec. ‘And when.’

I gasped.

‘I’ve just realised something,’ I said. ‘Hugh told me that Robin Laurie was engaged once to what Hugh described as “a very ordinary Miss” – I remember the phrase he used most particularly because I thought it was beyond vulgar – and that he broke it off hoping for better things. But perhaps it
wasn’t
that.’

‘You mean perhaps he broke it off in case his brother disinherited him on account of Ina’s inferiority?’

‘Exactly. Were the shades of Cullen to be thus polluted and all that.’

‘
Could
he disinherit him?’

‘Very possibly,’ I said. ‘I don’t go as far as to say I listen when Hugh regales me with thrilling tales of Scotch succession but some of it has seeped in over the years. You wouldn’t believe the shenanigans, if I told you.’

‘And so the lovers parted to wait for the old boy to die.’

‘Only Ina was offended and married Albert Wilson just to anger Robin. Or because she knew he would be running fast and loose with every chorus girl he could lay his hands on and this was the only way she could pay him back for it.’

‘Hang on, though,’ said Alec. ‘The Buckie wife and children died of influenza and Ina was already married by then.’

‘A divorcee!’ I cried. ‘Even better.’

‘And so Ina Wilson is crossed off our list of suspects once and for all,’ Alec said. He sounded exceedingly gloomy about it. ‘And it’s back to the circus folk.’ He sighed. ‘Are we still thinking it was a booby trap set by someone who was in the ring when she fell? Or do we think it was someone backstage and someone else is lying for him?’

‘I don’t know,’ I said, ‘but they are tremendously loyal to one another and surely
would
lie. And as for getting her off her horse or setting a trap and then spiriting it away … when one thinks about what that would need, doesn’t it come down to things like split-second timing, sleight-of-hand, physical strength …’

‘Misdirection of the eye,’ added Alec miserably. ‘Tiny and Andrew have promised to teach me some of the basic stuff if I’ll stay on after tea. They’ve been delighting to show me what they can do in plain view without being seen, just by making everyone look elsewhere. Oh, Dandy, don’t you just hate this sometimes?’

There was rather a difficult telephone call to be made when I got home, and however I rehearsed it while ringing up and waiting for the butler to fetch his mistress, I could not make it sound any less of a humiliation.

‘Ina?’ I said, when at last she came on. ‘It’s Dandy. Darling, I’m sorry, but I must beg a favour of you. Could you send someone down to the circus and see if Alec Osborne is still there and if he is could he please bring Bunty home? I’ve left her. Yes, I know. I know. I can’t imagine, except that I was terribly distracted.’

I was desperate to ring off, not only so that she could dispatch the message, but out of embarrassment to be talking to her, knowing what I knew and knowing, moreover, what I had so recently suspected, but Ina was in a chattering mood and short of blatant rudeness I could not get rid of her.

‘You’ve heard about tomorrow night, I suppose?’ she said. ‘The show?’

‘I did,’ I said. ‘Can’t you persuade Albert that it’s too cruel to put them through it?’

‘Albert? He would happily never go near the place again. It was Pa’s idea – meant to rally them all after their loss. We’re not invited to the funeral – circus only, apparently, and I don’t count after only this much time and not actually living there. So the least we can do is go along and cheer them afterwards. You must come. I won’t accept a refusal.’

I was not sure how to respond to this new, strikingly different Ina, unable as I was to forget its source, but I think she had a moment’s clarity of her own just then and gave a small self-deprecating laugh.

‘You must be wondering what’s going on with me, Dandy,’ she said.

‘Not at all,’ I said. ‘It’s good to hear you in such … fettle.’

‘Fettle!’ crowed Ina. ‘Well, I haven’t lost my mind in case you’re worried. I’ve found it. I’ve … the truth is … and you mustn’t tell a soul, just yet …’

‘I know, dear,’ I said. ‘I guessed. I am a detective after all.’

There was a short silence during which I could hear Ina breathing rather hard.

‘Well?’ she replied at last. ‘What do you think?’

‘It’s a big change,’ I said, feeling the inadequacy of the words most acutely. ‘And you must be ready for some opprobrium. The world is not a kind place, as I’m sure you know.’

‘I don’t care,’ said Ina. ‘I love him and, besides, I’m dying here.’

I am no admirer of such penny-paper outpourings and had had more than enough of them at Buckie on Monday afternoon, so I should gladly have let the matter drop, but Ina pressed me.

‘Do you think I’m a fool, Dandy?’

I was about to deliver a little vague wittering, but then the question struck me as one deserving of an answer. Did I think she was foolish, to leave the blameless but soul-destroying Albert for the much more dashing but horribly unsteady Robin? To leave the joke of her life at Benachally for the scandal of her life at Cullen? What would I do in her shoes? The plain fact was that I should never have stepped into her shoes: I should never have married Wilson and no matter how neatly he could turn on the charm like a gas lamp when its light was needed I should not choose to be Robin Laurie’s consort either. For a moment I felt – and it was a very odd feeling – rather grateful for Hugh.

‘I think life is always a matter of considerable compromise,’ I said, ‘no matter where our lot falls. You will have a great deal to put up with – I hope I don’t speak too frankly?’

‘Not at all.’

‘But you have obviously decided you can take all that in your stride and no one can deny that there are going to be enormous …’ I wanted to say rewards, but it sounded too baldly financial for words. ‘… silver linings,’ I concluded at last.

‘Yes,’ said Ina, dreamily. ‘He’s not … or rather the situation is not … what I ever foresaw, but I really do love him.’

With an inward hurrah I saw my sitting-room door handle turn and the door begin to open.

‘Ina, so sorry, must dash, till tomorrow, lots of love, bye,’ I said in one breath and put the receiver down on her gushing with a shudder and, if I am to be honest, a small wriggling thing in my breast which felt suspiciously like envy.

‘One abandoned dog,’ said Alec, standing in the doorway. Bunty moped into the room, gave me a withering look and curled up on the blue chair. ‘I suppose it’s not as bad as the time you left the children, but don’t tell Hugh in case it sets him off again.’

‘Hugh would be delighted if I left her there for ever,’ I said. ‘You never do believe what a churl he can be when no one else is listening. And don’t be fooled by that.’ I pointed at Bunty. ‘She’s just worn out from all the good behaviour. Now thank you for returning her and please stay for a drink, because I need at least one extra brain to help me with all of this.’

We had two drinks in all, enormous ones, but as Alec drained the last of his second one and chewed a thoughtful olive, we concluded together that while our martini cocktails might be clear and sparkling, our conclusions were mud.

‘The thing is, of course,’ I said, ‘if someone did it then they are no doubt lying and so any part of what anyone told me today might be utter eyewash.’

Alec nodded.

‘There’s certainly plenty going on,’ he said. ‘I’d be happier, though, if amongst the “goings-on” there was something that looked like a motive.’

‘But there is,’ I insisted. ‘They all so desperately want the circus to survive and Ana was just no end of trouble. She infuriated Pa, sent the Prebrezhenskys into a patriotic huff; she even seems to have got under Bill Wolf’s skin somehow. There’s three possible suspects. And she might have been playing a lot of very nasty tricks on Topsy. So Topsy or anyone who cares for Topsy might have done it. One way and another, between circus loyalty, revenge and sheer loathing, it really could have been any of them. And the way they keep insisting that it couldn’t have been just makes me suspect them all the more.’

‘Even Andrew’s at it now,’ Alec said. ‘Nay, mister, murder just in’t the Harrow way. Maddening.’

‘All that said though,’ I went on, ‘I really do think we must give them peace tomorrow to take care of the funeral. Let’s drive over together just in time for the show.’

Alec cleared his throat and shifted his feet before he answered.

‘Actually, you’ll have to do without me for the next day or two, Dan. Christmas, you know.’

I had forgotten – absolutely forgotten – and now began to gibber like a squirrel.

‘Of course, how silly. Heavens, yes. You should start early. It’s a terrible road. And how long are you staying? I’ll catch up with you after New Year, I suppose.’

‘Just until Boxing Day,’ Alec said, ‘then I’ll be home again.’ He grinned at me. ‘And actually, since the show is practically a matinée and my invitation is for dinner, perhaps I
can
come along. And then set off to Pess straight from Benachally when the curtain comes down.’

I shrugged rather than jumping up and down in a display of girlish delight. If Alec was to pursue this Pess connection as far as bringing Celia home to Dunelgar and installing her there, then many adjustments might have to be made and it was not too soon to start them.

Practically a matinée was not how I should have described the timing of the show although it was not an evening gala either; curtain up in fact at the highly inconvenient hour of half-past four and so I decided that we were entitled to present ourselves at Benachally beforehand for tea. Thus it was that we happened to see the sorry end of the funeral procession straggling its way home as we traversed the park towards the castle. The undertaker was clopping along on his horse at the head of the rest, was in fact beginning to pull away from them as we passed. He nodded curtly, his many chins disappearing into the knot of his black scarf, and then looked quickly away, rather less sorrowful and more irritated than was strictly proper, as though he begrudged the service to the circus folk and was chagrined to have been seen by members of the county, carrying it out.

After him came the entirety of Cooke’s, artistes, tent men, wives and children, in deepest black – albeit rather showy, shiny black in most cases as though a selection of ring costumes had been turned to account as mourning. Ma Cooke in her bombazine and velvet trim, with black berries on her hat and jet droplets dancing at her ears, was as festive as could be and all the little Prebrezhensky girls, their heads covered with black lace tied under the chin and enormous silver buckles on their black patent shoes, had stepped straight from a fairy tale. Only Andrew Merryman looked like an ordinary gentleman dressed for sombre duty and this was almost as great a surprise; to see him in a dark suit, stiff collar and black tie, without any of the trappings of the circus, not so much as a spotted handkerchief around his neck or a flash of satin down his trousers seam, was to remind oneself of his beginnings and of the extraordinary course of the life which had brought him here today. His allegiance was clear; he ignored Alec and me completely, as did the others as they paced by.