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Heirs and Graces (A Royal Spyness Mystery) Page 26
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“I presume that this now rules out my former footman, who you are holding,” Edwina said. “I see no way that anyone outside this house could have poisoned my son.”
“We’ve already let him go,” Fairbotham said.
I had a question that had suddenly occurred to me. I hesitated to ask it in front of all these people, but it had to be asked. “Chief Inspector,” I said. He was about to leave but turned back to me. “Did your men manage to find the letter the duke posted that morning?”
“They did not. There was no letter from the duke in that postbox.”
“That must mean that the person who found him dead on the path took the letter from him.”
“It would certainly seem that way,” he said. “So we must presume that the letter has been destroyed, and we’ll never know what it contained. Unless anyone was foolish enough to hang on to it. But that was smart thinking of you, Lady Georgiana. I’ll have my men go through the rubbish.”
With that, he left.
Chapter 31
“Well, that’s a turn-up for the books,” Darcy muttered to me as Fairbotham left the room. “You were spot on with your observation that something wasn’t right.”
“I wonder who stabbed Cedric’s body with Jack’s knife,” I said. “Such a horrid, spiteful thing to do.”
We went up to change for dinner. Queenie was abnormally helpful. Clearly she had taken to heart my threat of the night before. Thank heavens there was no talk of another séance after dinner. We sat near the fire in the drawing room, making small talk but consciously avoiding the thing that was on all our minds. I expect the others were as relieved as I when we went up to bed. As we had been talking I found myself considering—now that we knew Cedric had been poisoned, that changed everything. Poison does not require strength or agility. Any of the women in the room could have easily slipped poison into something Cedric ate or drank.
The next day, we all felt we were in a sort of limbo, not sure what to do with ourselves. Edwina wanted to arrange for Cedric’s funeral, but couldn’t find out when his body might be released, so she was in a bad temper. It was a bright and windy day, and the twins came bursting excitedly into the morning room, where we were reading the papers.
“Mama, Jack says he’ll take us out riding,” Kat said. “And Mr. Carter said it will do us good to get some fresh air. That’s all right with you, isn’t it?”
Irene frowned then turned to me. “Do you think you could go with them, Georgiana? I’m not sure that I want them out alone with Jack.”
“Why not?” Kat demanded.
“Well, after all . . .” Irene began.
Nick cut her off. “Come on, Mama. You can’t think Jack is the murderer any longer. Now that we know that Uncle Cedric was poisoned it can’t have been Jack. He wouldn’t poison anybody.”
“Besides,” Kat added, “how would he know where anything poisonous was kept?”
I got to my feet. “I’ll be happy to go with you,” I said. “I’d love a ride.” I looked at Darcy. “Coming?” I asked.
“I never say no to a good ride.” Darcy followed me out of the room.
We had a terrific gallop across the Downs. Both twins were good riders and had probably never been allowed to go so fast in their lives. We were all red-cheeked and glowing as we came down the hill to the house.
“It seems hard to believe that we can be normal up here and once we get back to the house it will be back to that awful air of suspicion again,” Jack said. “I can tell they’d all like to believe I did it. None of them want me here.”
“Cheer up, old chap,” Darcy said. “I’m sure it will all be sorted out soon.”
“We want you here,” Nick said. “We like you. And we know jolly well that you didn’t do it.”
“I just can’t imagine who did,” Jack said. “It had to be one of those strange little blokes who followed Cedric around.”
As we came around the house to the forecourt, Nick said excitedly, “Look, the detective’s car is back again. Do you think he’s found out what the poison was? Or maybe he’s even found out who did it.”
“I don’t think so,” Kat said. “He didn’t seem very intelligent to me.”
We handed the horses over to the grooms and made our way back to the house, the twins holding our hands and dragging us eagerly. I expected to find everyone assembled in the Long Gallery again but the house was quiet and there was no sign of any policemen. The twins looked around expectantly. “Where can the inspector be?” Kat asked. “Let’s go and find out.”
“You both need to change out of those clothes before you do anything else,” Darcy said. “You smell of horse.”
“Spoilsport,” Kat muttered. “If we go upstairs, we’ll be trapped in the nursery. Nanny and dreaded Carter never know anything. We have to find out what poisoned Uncle Cedric.”
“You know you’ll get into trouble if you’re found down here in riding togs,” I said. “Go on. Off you go.”
Nick sighed, and dragged Kat up the stairs toward the nursery. I went to my room to change too.
“Pooh. You don’t ’alf stink of ’orse,” Queenie complained as she pulled off my riding boots. “What am I supposed to do with this lot?”
“Brush it off and air it out, I suppose,” I said. “I don’t know. You’re the maid!”
“I ain’t never had to deal with no ’orses,” she muttered as she helped me off with my breeches. “The only ’orse I ever came in contact with was the rag and bone man’s. Oh, and the milkman’s.”
I washed my face and hands, brushed my hair and went downstairs to see Chief Inspector Fairbotham standing at the bottom of the stairs, looking perplexed. “Oh, there you are, Lady Georgiana,” he said. “I’ve been looking for the old duchess. You haven’t seen her recently, have you?”
“I’ve just come back from a ride,” I said. “I haven’t seen anybody. Have you found out what killed Cedric?”
“Yes, and no,” he said. “That’s why I need to talk to the duchess. That butler went off to get her ages ago. I haven’t got all day to stand around here.”
“I’ll go and see if you like,” I said, but I had just started back up the stairs when Huxstep came striding out of the Long Gallery.
“I’m sorry, Chief Inspector, but I have been unable to locate Her Grace,” he said. “Her maid hasn’t seen her all morning, and I’ve had the footmen search all the rooms that are in use.”
“What about the rooms that aren’t in use?” Fairbotham snapped.
“I see no reason why Her Grace should want to visit a storeroom or an attic,” Huxstep said. “No doubt she’ll appear when she’s ready.”
I was experiencing a growing sense of dread. “Inspector—do you think that something might have happened to her?” I asked. “After all, one member of her family is dead, and an attempt was made on Irene’s life. Could it be that someone has a grudge against the Altringham family?”
“Oh, crikey,” he said. “I suppose I’d better get extra men in to do a thorough search of the grounds. And you can have the staff do a complete search of the house, if you don’t mind, Mr. Huxstep.”
“Of course,” Huxstep said. “This is most worrying.”
We all joined in a search, opening doors to rooms swathed in dust sheets and nervously peering beneath them. But an hour went by and there was no sign of the missing duchess. More policemen arrived, and I saw them searching the grounds with dogs. As I looked out of the window I saw an estate car draw up and out of it stepped the dowager duchess herself. I rushed downstairs and was just in time to see her enter the foyer as Fairbotham came striding down the hall toward her.
“Where the devil have you been?” he snapped. “We’ve had the whole household looking for you.”
“Looking for me?”
“We were worried something had happened to you,” I said.
“My dear, I just drove myself down to the vicarage to talk to the vicar about Cedric’s funeral,” she said. “You know it’s been on my mind. The vicar was most understanding. Most. Such a kind little man.”
“I thought I said nobody was to leave the property,” Fairbotham grumbled.
“The village church is on land formerly belonging to the Altringham family, thus one might say that I have not left our property,” Edwina said frostily. “And you should realize that a member of a family such as ours would never dream of running away.” She glared at him as Huxstep arrived to take off her overcoat and hat. “Now, what was it you wanted, Chief Inspector?”
“I’d like to speak to everyone again, if you could assemble them for me.”
“You’ve discovered what poisoned my son? What was it?”
“I’d prefer to give this information to everyone at once. I’d hate to think I gave anyone a chance to destroy evidence,” he said.
“Really!” Edwina sniffed. “This is all beyond my comprehension, Chief Inspector. Suggesting that a member of this family might behave like a common criminal. Something like this has never happened in the history of the Altringham family.” She turned to address Huxstep, who was still hovering in the background. “You heard the Chief Inspector, Huxstep. Please have everyone assembled again in the Long Gallery.” She shook her head. “This is turning into a farce.”
“Nothing farcical about murder, Your Grace,” Fairbotham said. “I’ll be in to speak with you in ten minutes.” And he walked off down the hall toward Cedric’s study.
“Should I help assemble the family, Your Grace?” I asked because Edwina looked stunned.
“No, no. Leave it to Huxstep. You may accompany me to the Long Gallery, Georgiana.” I offered her my arm and she took it. “You’re a good girl, my dear. I’m glad to have you here at this distressing time.”
We entered the Long Gallery. Edwina looked around as if reassuring herself that she really was in her own home. “How can this be, Georgiana?” she said. “How can it be possible that someone in this house poisoned Cedric? Surely not my own flesh and blood. I just pray that it is an outsider and not one of us.”
I seated her in the armchair by the fire and took a place myself on the sofa opposite. Soon we were joined by the others. Darcy gave me an inquiring look as he came to sit beside me. It felt almost as if the cast of characters was coming on stage for the next act of an improbable play. Nobody spoke as Chief Inspector Fairbotham made his entrance.
“Your Grace.” He gave her a little bow. “You asked me if I had discovered what poisoned your son. The answer is yes and no. The medical examiner has found traces of cyanide in his tissues.”
“Cyanide!” Edwina exclaimed. “Where would anyone have got their hands on cyanide in this house?”
“You’d be surprised,” Fairbotham said. “Cyanide is used for all sorts of things. Destroying wasp’s nests, for example. My men are searching the house and outbuildings right now, and I expect we’ll turn up something.”
“So the murderer would have to be someone who knew how to use cyanide,” Darcy said. “Dangerous substance, that. Could kill the would-be murderer if he breathed in the fumes.”
“Now we come to the interesting part,” Fairbotham said. “There was cyanide in his tissues, but the MO reckons there wasn’t enough to kill him.”
“Then what did kill him?” Edwina demanded.
“Tell me, Your Grace—did your son have a heart condition?”
“A heart condition? Absolutely not.”
“Does anyone in the family have a heart condition?”
“As a matter of fact, I do,” Edwina said.
“And you have been prescribed medicine for this?”
“I have. Some form of digitalis, I understand. From foxgloves.”
“Interesting.” Fairbotham nodded. “Because a significant amount of this chemical was found in his body.”
“Somebody used my digitalis to kill my son?”
“Again it probably wouldn’t have killed him.”
“I don’t understand,” I said. “Are you suggesting that someone administered cyanide and digitalis to the duke, but neither in sufficient amounts to kill him? Why? If someone wanted him dead, why not feed him enough of one of these substances?”
“Why not, indeed. Good question, Lady Georgiana. And they weren’t the only substances found. It seems there was atropine from eyedrops and certain other chemicals in his system too. So either he was a hypochondriac who administered various treatments to himself, or someone fed him a deadly cocktail. The MO reckons that he wasn’t in the best condition—lungs damaged by too much smoking, heart not too strong—and thus it was the combination of substances, coupled with a brisk walk on a very cold morning that killed him. Rather ingenious in a way, although surely the killer realized that the substances would show up in his tissues.”
“Perhaps the killer thought the death would be taken as a heart attack,” Darcy suggested.
“And probably would have, Mr. O’Mara,” Fairbotham said, “if someone hadn’t chosen to plunge a great, big knife into his back while he lay there.”
He looked up as one of his men came in. “What is it, Finch?” he asked.
There was a muttered conversation then Fairbotham turned back to us. “It seems that we’ve found our cyanide in a photographic darkroom.”
“That was my son’s darkroom,” Edwina said. “He was much interested in photography.”
“Fingerprints were found on the bottle,” Fairbotham said, “and we’ll be comparing them to the prints we took earlier from everyone here. And, Your Grace, I’d appreciate it if you let me take a look at your medicine cupboard and showed me your heart medication.”
“Certainly, Chief Inspector,” Edwina said wearily. She led him from the room. She reminded me of a splendid balloon that is slowly deflating. I wondered how many more of these unpleasant surprises she could take. And how she’d handle it if the culprit turned out to be a member of her family.
Princess Charlotte rose with effort to her feet first. “I could do with some coffee. All these shocks are not good for the system.”
Virginia stood too. “There will still be coffee in the morning room. Maybe Mr. O’Mara will accompany us to protect us and cheer us up. There has been far too much gloom and doom in this household recently.” She fluttered her eyelashes at Darcy in what she thought was a sexy manner. Darcy was gracious enough to offer her his arm, and led her out of the room.
I stood alone in the deserted room, trying to think. A clever cocktail to induce a heart attack—surely none of the people present had a sufficient knowledge of chemicals to concoct such a thing? It had to be an outsider. But who? And why?
I think we were all relieved when the luncheon gong sounded. It provided a moment of normality in an Alice-in-Wonderland world. Edwina had not been with us in the morning room, but she joined us as we made our way to the dining room. I approached her. “Did you want your grandchildren to join us for luncheon today?” I asked.
She reacted as if she had just come out of a trance. “What? Oh, yes. Please. By all means. If you’d be good enough to escort them down. I can see this nightmare has overexcited them. Not good for them to be alone too much.”
I nodded and went up the stairs to the nursery. As I opened the door, the twins and Nanny looked up at me, openmouthed.
“Oh, your ladyship,” Nanny said. “I’m so glad to see you. It was awful. The children should never have been put through something like that.”
“Like what?” I asked.
Nicholas and Katherine rushed over to me. “The police came and took away Mr. Carter,” Nick exclaimed, his eyes as wide as saucers. “They found his fingerprints on the bottle of cyanide in Uncle Cedric’s darkroom.”
“He made an awful fuss,” Katherine added. “He told the police he had helped Uncle Cedric
with his photo developing, so of course his fingerprints would be on the bottles in there.”
“He started crying!” Nick exclaimed delightedly. “Can you imagine? A man, crying. Papa would have been disgusted.”
“He was shell-shocked in the war,” I said. “You have to make allowances for men who were in the trenches.”
“That would explain it, then,” Nanny said. “His mind has gone. He’s not responsible for his actions, poor soul. I always found him a nice enough man—pleasant and polite, and so patient with the children, who aren’t the easiest, let me say.”
“Us? We’re angels, Nanny,” Nick said.
“Well, I’ve come to bring you angels down to luncheon,” I said.
“Good-oh,” Nick said. “I’m awfully bored with nursery food.”
“What about Sissy?” I asked. “Is she in her room?”
“She is, poor thing,” Nanny said. “Very upset about Mr. Carter. I don’t think she’d want to be taken downstairs. Could you ask for her luncheon to be sent up on a tray?”
“Of course. And tell her I’ll come up and see her,” I said. “Come on, you two angels.”
They ran ahead of me along the hall and then down the stairs. Nick swung himself off the banister post; Kat didn’t. She was rather quiet for her. I suspected that the arrest of Mr. Carter had upset her more than her brother. Perhaps she was secretly fond of him.
By the time we entered the dining room, the news of Mr. Carter had obviously reached the rest of the household.
“Sit down, children,” Edwina said. “I understand that your tutor is being questioned by the police. Remember, in this country a man is innocent until proven guilty. You are not to come to judgment.”
“No, Grandmama,” the children muttered as they sat down, their eyes already on the food.
“See, what did I tell you?” Princess Charlotte said. “The spirits were correct all along. It wasn’t Castor, it was Carter. One of us clearly pushed the planchette to the S rather than the R. So easy to do with many fingers on it.”