Chapter 12 #2
“What we must do,” said Peter Bancroft, “is stick together. Never go anywhere alone, then the devil can’t get you.”
“The devil is one of us, old boy,” Lord Carleton reminded him.
“It must have been an intruder,” said Veronica Bancroft petulantly. “The police ought to have found traces of someone breaking in by now.”
“One murder might have been an intruder, Ronnie.” Angela and her faithful shadow had joined the group. “Two must be one of us.”
“I keep telling you not to call me Ronnie! And if it’s one of us, you have the best motive I know. You only care about those wretched curs of yours, not about people. I wouldn’t put it past you to murder Grandmother to get her money for the horrid beasts.”
“Now, Veronica!” Peter remonstrated weakly.
Astonishingly, Tiddler summoned up the courage to snarl at his rescuer’s sister, from his safe haven behind Angela’s ankles.
Veronica backed away. “Get rid of it!” she shrilled.
Teddy Devenish, arriving, stooped to give the little dog an approving pat. “Know thine enemy,” he said with a grin. “Clever little scrap, Angie.”
“Peter!” Veronica appealed to her husband.
“Nothing to do with me. He’s your brother.”
The Carletons and Daisy abstracted themselves from the brewing sibling strife. Daisy was immediately pounced upon by Lucy’s mother.
“Daisy dear, do you know where Lucinda is? I simply can’t find her anywhere.”
“Yes, Aunt Vickie, she’s with Alec.”
“Oh!” Mrs. Fotheringay turned white. “Oh no! They’ve arrested Lucinda?”
When Lucy entered the library, Alec was annoyed.
He hadn’t yet had a chance to telephone Teddy Devenish’s friends in Hampshire, and if he was ever granted a moment’s peace to study Ernie’s list of names, he’d want to interview those on it, not Lucy, whom he’d already seen.
She had not been cooperative, and he wouldn’t be surprised if she had now come with a complaint.
He wasn’t at all sure he could summon up the politeness to deal with her as he ought.
“What can I do for you?” he asked impatiently.
“I’ve come to see if I can do anything for you,” she said with her customary aplomb. “You didn’t really ask me any questions before.”
Because she had walked out, as Alec managed to refrain from saying. “You had a rendezvous with your intended.”
“Who found Uncle Aubrey. Aunt Eva was one thing—you may think we’re all frightfully callous, but no one mourned her much. Uncle Aubrey was different. Besides, two murders … Suppose
there’s a third? So if answering your questions will help you find out who it was, ask away.”
While they spoke, Ernie Piper had reached for his list and turned to the second page. Now he replaced it on the desk in front of Alec, his finger pointing at a name. Alec glanced down.
“What’s that?” Lucy demanded. “You know now I’m not the murderer. I was with you when Uncle Aubrey died.”
“Lord Gerald was with him.”
“But Binkie wasn’t here when … Oh Lord, you think we’re hand in glove? That I killed Aunt Eva and he killed Uncle Aubrey?”
“I have to consider the possibility. Why did he turn up today when he was not expected until Friday?”
“I telephoned and asked him to come.”
“You see, you could have told him you were afraid Lord Fotheringay knew something which might lead us to suspect you.”
“But I didn’t. I just wanted to tell him something I couldn’t say over the phone.”
“What?” Alec asked bluntly.
Lucy bit her lip. “If you must know, that I wasn’t going to marry him after all.”
Startled, Alec made a quick recovery and shot back, “Why not?”
“Because with Aunt Eva’s legacy, I’ll be able to …” Her voice tailed off and she pressed her fingers to her lips.
“To live comfortably without him?”
“Yes,” she whispered, but with a defiant lift of her chin. Then she caught sight of her fingertips and stared in horror at the lip-rouge smeared there, the bright crimson of blood.
Alec forebore to state the obvious, that her admission confirmed a financial motive for Lady Eva’s death.
“Lord Gerald is devoted to you,” he said, “and when he arrived at Haverhill, he didn’t yet know of your change of heart.
” He paused, but she made no comment. He picked up the list of Ernie’s gleanings from Lady Eva’s files. “I have
here evidence of an additional reason for your wishing to rid yourself of your great-aunt.”
“Oh? What’s that?” Lucy leant forward, interested, unalarmed.
“Something you most certainly wouldn’t have wanted broadcast to the world.”
“It wasn’t Aunt Eva’s way to broadcast scandal to the world. I haven’t done anything desperately wicked, and she never mentioned anything to me. What is it?”
Ernie bowed his head over his notebook. Tom took a sudden interest in his fingernails.
“You spent a night with Lord Gerald in his rooms.”
A tinge of pink crept into Lucy’s cheeks, the first time Alec had ever seen her blush. “Well? This is 1924, not 1884. We’re … We were going to be married shortly.”
“Were. I rather doubt you’d want your parents or grandparents informed.”
“Oh, as to that, Mummy would have been upset, but everything I do upsets her. Grandfather would have refused to finance a grand wedding. I never wanted one.”
“You claim Lady Eva never spoke to you about her knowledge?”
“She didn’t. I suppose, compared to some of the things she dug out about people, it was a minor peccadillo.”
“Because you were going to be married shortly. But you changed your mind. She might have written you out of her will.”
“I didn’t change my mind until after she died. Oh hell, Alec, you don’t really believe I killed her? Just to avoid marrying Binkie? I’m actually quite fond of him.”
Alec sighed. “It’s not for me to believe or disbelieve. The evidence is all that counts. All I can say is that you’re not the only person with more than one possible motive. What do you know about the plants in your uncle’s conservatory?”
“Not much.” Lucy looked slightly puzzled, not at all alarmed. “I
took the tour whenever I came to stay, but just to please the old boy. I’m afraid I paid very little attention.”
“So you didn’t know that some of the plants are poisonous.”
“Oh, yes. It was drummed into us very thoroughly as children, by Uncle Aubrey, nannies, parents, aunts and uncles. No one who visited as a child could possibly fail to know. But I’d be surprised if many of us remember which particular plants are poisonous.
I certainly don’t. Was Uncle Aubrey poisoned with his own greenery? How vile! It seems crass, somehow.”
“Murder is always vile and generally crass, whether the victim is an inoffensive person like Lord Fotheringay or …”
“Or an offensive person like Aunt Eva. She really was a nasty old busybody, wasn’t she?” Lucy said with an air of detachment. “I wonder how she found out about me and Binkie. It’s not terribly surprising someone got fed up enough to stop her prying for good.”
“Your room is close to hers. Did you hear any sounds in the night—footsteps, a cry, a door opening or closing?”
“Not a thing. I’ve been sleeping badly, because of this blasted wedding, and Mummy was worried I’d look haggish on Saturday so she made me take a powder last night.”
“Great Scott, Lucy,” Alec exploded, “why the deuce didn’t you tell me right away?”
“That I took a sleeping powder? Oh, I suppose I couldn’t have been creeping around murdering great-aunts after taking a bromide.”
“Did your mother watch you swallow it?”
“She mixed it with milk and practically poured it down my throat.”
At last a chance to knock one suspect off his list. Alec jumped up. “Right-oh, you stay here and answer Mr. Tring’s questions while I find Mrs. Fotheringay.”
“Mummy’s known as Mrs. Oliver here,” corrected Lucy obligingly. “Too many Mrs. Fotheringays.”
“I couldn’t agree more. Where is Mrs. Oliver likely to be?”
“The drawing room or upstairs, I expect.”
Alec strode across the hall and entered the drawing room to find a crowd in the middle of the room, the outer members craning to see over the shoulders of those in front. Amidst a confused babble, someone said clearly, “Stand back, for heaven’s sake, and give her air.”
His heart stood still. Another murder?