Read Twelfth Night at Eyre Hall Online
Authors: Luccia Gray
The morning after Twelfth Night, Eyre
Hall woke up to an alarming blizzard. I had risen and was looking out to the
vast whiteness where no shape, human, animal or natural, could be discerned due
to the snowy curtain pouring down. I pitied anyone who would have to leave the
house in such weather.
I turned my thoughts to Michael, in
London. No doubt the weather, as always, was kinder there. I wondered if he had
found Helen and how soon he would return. He had said by Twelfth Night, so I was
looking forward to his arrival shortly. The snow might slow down his journey,
but it was a small impediment for such a tenacious person. I wondered wistfully
as Nell helped me dress, if we could ever be together as any couple who are in
love, but we were not any couple. There were so many obstacles in our way,
although now, more than ever, I was sure our future was entwined, and we would
find a way to overcome all the complications.
I was shaken by cries coming from Mr. Mason’s
room. Seconds later Annette rushed in tearfully saying that her uncle had died.
The rest was a succession of the events we had experienced when Edward died.
Mr. Storm, the undertaker, arrived with the mutes and his notebook. Fred helped
Beth wash the corpse, cover all the mirrors in the hall, open the window in his
room, and put ice under the bed, as Simon had been called away last night. Leah
and Cook were run down with the food preparations and Daisy and Christy were arranging
the drawing room. Soon some extra staff from the inn would be arriving, and the
house would be milling with family, friends, neighbours, and acquaintances.
Mr. Woods had been instructed to ring
the bells, and the mourners would soon be flooding in to eat, drink, and pay
their last respects to a man many of them did not know, for he had barely spent
thirty days at Eyre Hall since we had married fourteen months earlier.
Dr. Carter arrived hours later, due to
the weather, and certified death by natural causes, probably apoplexy, due to
the suddenness, his age, and the fact that he had been drinking and eating
copiously on the previous days. He assured us that he had not suffered, and
that it could not have been avoided.
I was not pleased that Richard had died,
but neither was I sad. I was sure that nobody at Eyre Hall would miss him. He was
selfish and bad tempered, and he had not made my life or anyone else’s pleasant.
However, I did not feel comfortable pretending I was affected, so I let the
others take over with the funeral preparations.
John and Adele assisted Annette, who was
naturally upset, having lost her only living relative, although they were by no
means close. Richard had been only too pleased to send her to Belgium for a
year after Edward died. He had visited Eyre Hall briefly for our marriage, and
he had seemed to ignore her during his present visit at Eyre Hall, disappointed
at her refusal to have a London Season and find a wealthy husband as all the
other well–to–do young ladies did.
We all paid our respects to his corpse
once the undertakers had made the room as respectable as possible, although the
stench was almost unbearable. Nobody approached the ashen body. We all stood
with kerchiefs and salts to our noses while Mr. Woods said some words of
consolation, as Archbishop Templar could not travel in such weather. My cousins
would also be spared the long trip for the same reason.
In the evening, Dr. Carter came to see
me, worried about my health. I told him I was naturally upset by the suddenness
of events, but that I was well, only needing to be alone, away from the bustle
of constant visitors. He was kind and understanding, as always.
I mused on how very different he was to
his squat and disagreeable father. He was such a tall, strong man, with broad
shoulders, curly reddish–brown hair, and a warm smile. I could imagine how his
patients must feel at ease listening to his diagnoses and advice.
“Mrs. Mason, I am afraid I have some
disturbing information I must discuss with you.”
“More bad news, Doctor?”
“I am afraid so, and it cannot wait.”
I nodded in agreement and waved to an
armchair. “Please sit down, Doctor.”
“Mrs. Mason, there is no doubt in my
mind that Mr. Mason has been poisoned.”
I felt my chest tighten as I registered
his unwelcome sentence. His words had rendered me speechless. I sighed,
wondering where this shocking turn of events would lead us. The scandal, the
investigation, the attention would be devastating for all of us.
He watched me in silence as I composed
myself and managed to speak. “Poisoned? Are you certain?”
“Without a doubt, madam.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“I first suspected it yesterday when I
arrived; although he had been washed and the room cleaned, the strong smell of
vomit and diarrhoea persisted. A natural cause, such as a heart attack or an
apoplexy would have been quick and clean; I mean the bodily fluids would not
have been so disagreeable.”
“But you cannot be absolutely sure?”
“I am afraid I can, madam. I carried out
a Reinsch test for arsenic.”
“A test for arsenic? How was it possible?”
“When I examined his corpse, I asked to
be left alone and I proceeded to extract part of his stomach. I removed it to
my surgery to carry out the test, which proved positive for arsenic, without a
doubt.”
I felt an unpleasant pulsation in my head
and instinctively took my hands to my temples. “How could it have happened?”
“He could have been poisoned gradually,
or it could have been one massive dose. Had he been feeling unwell recently?”
“Let me think. Although he retired to
his room soon after dinner every day since his return, he did not complain of
any ailments, except for the night before he died. He had been prone to excessive
consumption of wine and brandy regularly, so I imagined it was indigestion. He
seemed to be well when he first arrived from Jamaica.”
“Then, as I thought, it was most
probably one massive dose administered the evening before he died.”
“It would cause a great scandal if this
information were to be disclosed, Dr. Carter, and you have already signed the
death certificate as death by natural causes. Why are you telling me this now?”
I wondered if he was planning to
blackmail me. How could I have trusted him? Perhaps he was like his father
after all.
“I am afraid you have a more serious
problem then the scandal that might ensue, Mrs. Mason.”
He was going to do it now. He was going
to ask me for money for his silence and I would have to agree, and he would
have me in his clutches for the rest of my life. I had thought I was reaching
the surface, but I had been digging my hole even deeper. I sighed dismally. “I
do? What is my problem, Doctor, and how am I to solve it?”
“Mrs. Mason, you are in danger. There is
a murderer at large at Eyre Hall, and he might strike again. It would be wise
to conduct discreet investigations in order to discover the culprit, and ensure
the safety of the other members of the household.”
“What do you mean?”
“You are not safe. None of the residents
at Eyre Hall is safe. The murderer will not know we are searching for him, but
we must find him. He may strike again.”
I was relieved that he was not a
heartless blackmailer but terrified of his foreboding words. “Of course, Doctor
Carter, you are right. We must find him, but who will investigate and how?”
“You and I will do so. Nobody else must
be informed. I suggest you make it known that you feel unwell in the next few
days so that no one will be surprised when I visit you every day.”
“But how shall we investigate?”
“We shall approach the matter in a
logical way. While I was in London, I met Doctor Watson, a renowned private
investigator, and he told me something of the scientific method. First, we must
collect data, and then we can propose theories. We need facts Mrs. Mason.”
“What facts?”
“Firstly, I will need a list of everyone
who was at Eyre Hall on the evening Mr. Mason died. At the moment everyone is a
suspect.” He smiled. “Except you, of course, because you were not responsible.”
He waited a few seconds and stared straight into my eyes. “Were you?”
I held his penetrating look, registering
his words. Had he dared to accuse me? Did he have the audacity to suggest I
might have something to do with Richard’s death? I was outraged and close to
discharging him from my house and my service, but I realised he could have the
matter brought to the attention of the law, so instead I pronounced the words
he needed to hear.
“I did not kill Mr. Mason, if that is
what you are asking, Doctor Carter.”
He smiled. “Thank you Mrs. Mason, and
please forgive my boldness. Murder is a serious crime, and you will understand
that although my heart never doubted your innocence, my logical mind had to be
put at rest.”
“I hope it has. So, now how are we to
proceed?”
“We shall analyse who had the
opportunity, the motive, the weapon, and the cold blood needed to kill someone,
and who had more than one, more than two, more than three, or the four elements.
“Once we have all our suspects, we will
reconstruct what happened yesterday evening. Could you write a list of all the
people in your residence on the night he died, and a detailed account of the
day’s events, including what time people arrived and left, and what they were
doing and where.”
“I can write up the list of guests and
staff, and I can tell you part of what Mr. Mason does, but I cannot account for
all his actions and movements.”
“Then we will have to ask discreetly, to
fill in the rest of the information. Who would know? His valet, for example?”
“Simon, of course. Mrs. Leah told me
that he left last night.”
“That is a coincidence we must
investigate. Do you know where he went and why?”
“Apparently he had to visit a relative
in London on a personal matter.”
“Interesting. We must speak to Simon as
soon as possible.”
“Shall we start now with our list of
suspects?”
He nodded and took out a large notebook.
I led him to my desk and we both sat down to work.
“Shall we start with the servants?”
“Joseph and Cook, Mrs. Leah, Daisy,
Christy, Beth, Simon, and Fred.”
He wrote down their names vertically and
on the horizontal axis he wrote five words; Motive, Opportunity, Access to
Weapon, Aptitude, and Comments.
“What about Susan?”
“Susan is engaged to Dante, as you know,
so she is no longer a servant.”
“I see, so we shall include her name
with the next list of family and friends.”
“Precisely, Doctor. Next on your list we
have John, Annette, Adele and Mr. Greenwood, and Dante and Susan.”
He wrote all the names carefully before
speaking. “The motives are usually related to money, love, or vengeance. The
questions are, who would gain financially or romantically from his death? Or who
had been seriously offended by Mr. Mason, so much that they would want to kill
him?”
“I would gain the most.” I sighed,
understanding all too well why he had asked me about my implication.
“You are not a suspect, Mrs. Mason. You
are a possible victim.”
I shuddered.
“What about Miss Annette?”
“Her finances are solely in my hands.
She will gain nothing from her uncle’s death, and she has no reason to hate him.”
“Master John?”
“John will inherit the estate, except Eyre
Hall and the grounds, when he is thirty, independently of whom I marry, and he
does not hate Mr. Mason, nor has he any reason to.”
“Adele?”
“Adele’s finances are in my hands too.
None of the family would gain financially from his death, and none of them have
any cause for vengeance, Dr. Carter.”
“Had Mr. Mason any mistresses?”
“I am sure he did. We led separate
lives. He spent most of the year in Jamaica, and when he was in England, he
preferred London.”
“Do you know who they are?”
“No. I never had any interest in his
affairs.”
“Could you find out?”
“I could look through his expenses. He
must be paying her or them. Simon might know, but I doubt it.”
“Have you noticed how it always comes
back to Simon?”
“Simon was probably the last person to
see him alive, as he always goes up to his room before retiring for the day, in
case Mr. Mason needs anything. Nevertheless, I am sure Simon is incapable of
killing anyone, and far less of organising such a clean killing. Moreover, he
has no motive.”
“He could be helping someone else. There
could be more than one person involved. Shall we look at the servants one by
one?”
“Cook and Joseph are an elderly couple
with no children, who have absolutely no reason to gain anything from his death
or reason to hate him.”