Chapter 19
“Daisy?” Lucy’s voice came from the bedroom next door.
Daisy stopped brushing her teeth and spoke through a mouthful of toothpaste: “Ung-huh?”
“Come in for a minute, when you’re finished?”
“Ung-huh!”
She finished her teeth, gave the enormous bathtub a longing and regretful look, washed her face, and went through the connecting door. A glance reassured her that Lucy’s door to the corridor was bolted. She turned to Lucy. Sitting up in bed, without make-up, she was pale and wan, her hair tousled.
“I tried to go to sleep but it’s much too early and … How is he?”
“I don’t know, darling. I couldn’t go and interrupt them to find out. I wrote a note to Alec to ask him to come up and tell me, but I’ve gone and given it to John Walsdorf and he’ll be putting it in the letter-box right at this very minute.”
“Silly ass. Why on earth?”
“He was going to the post and I didn’t want to walk down the drive. I wrote to Belinda and to her friends’ mothers to propose her going to stay tomorrow as well as Friday and Saturday.”
“I’d have been a terrible mother, you know.”
“Why? You’d have a nanny, and then they go to school.”
“Darling, it’s simply not done to let a nanny bring up one’s offspring these days. One is expected to take an interest, kiss the little dears good night and so on. Did your mother ever kiss you good night?”
“Not that I remember,” Daisy admitted. “I sometimes didn’t see Mother for weeks on end.”
“Did you want to?”
“Well, no. But if I had, maybe we’d be on better terms now.”
“You could hardly be on worse,” Lucy said candidly.
“Don’t rub it in! You and Aunt Vickie don’t exactly make a practice of falling into each other’s arms.”
“No. Mummy was usually at home, and we were usually taken down for tea, unless there were guests. But I’ve always been the cuckoo in the nest, and cuckoos don’t make good parents.”
“Rubbish,” Daisy snorted. “You can carry analogy too far, you know. Is that why … ?”
“Partly, maybe. I’ve never much cared for children. I simply can’t bring myself to swoon over Tim’s offspring, or George’s.”
“Other people’s are different, though I must say I adore Violet’s. Or rather, one’s own are different. Even if Bel isn’t strictly speaking my own … Well, let’s not get soppy. But when she’s not happy, I mind.”
Lucy was silent for a moment, then she said, “I wish I knew how he is! I feel as if it’s all my fault.
If I hadn’t been so beastly to him, he wouldn’t have been meeting you in the conservatory.
In fact, if I hadn’t called him down from town, he wouldn’t even have been at Haverhill, let alone walking in on poor Uncle Aubrey’s death. ”
“Of course it’s not your fault, darling. It’s the murderer’s fault. You’re not going to go all weepy on me, are you?”
“No.” Lucy summoned up a sort of smile. “Though sometimes I
wonder if the weepy sort have the right idea and we stiff-upper-lip types … What’s that?”
Daisy listened. “Someone knocking on my door, I think.”
“Don’t open it!”
“I expect it’s Alec. If not, I won’t.” She went through the bathroom to her and Alec’s room, and over to the door. “Who’s there?”
“It’s me, love.”
“Darling!” She slid back the bolt, unlocked and opened the door. “How is he?”
“Still breathing, but Arbuthnot doesn’t like the look of him at all. Severe concussion and considerable loss of blood. The latter might have done for him but for your friend Angela.”
“Thank heaven! I was so afraid of leaving her with him—she’d been outside since right after dinner and I’m sure she’s strong enough to have bashed him with that tree.”
“I don’t see you had much choice. You’d likely have killed him through ignorance.
Angela had every chance to finish him off undetectably before Tom arrived, so I’ve crossed her off my list. That clears Teddy, too.
I know I let him go before, but there was still the possibility that he and his sister had conspired.
The trouble is, he was easily my best suspect. ”
“I can tell you who wasn’t in the drawing room for coffee.”
“I thought that must be it when I got your note. You didn’t see any clue that might lead us to the murderer?”
“It was murder, then? Attempted murder?”
“Looks like it.”
“Why?”
“Daisy … !”
“All right, I won’t ask. But, darling, I’m afraid this time I’m a terrible witness. A dead body is one thing, and bad enough, but someone who might die if you do the wrong thing rather takes your mind off anything else. I saw a broken flower-pot and a small palm and
spilled soil. And him.” She wasn’t ready to think about it in any more detail than that. “No sign of anyone else.”
“You haven’t told anyone what he was hit with, have you? Someone may be hoping we think it was an accident.”
“Give me credit for a little common sense!”
“Well, don’t mention it. To anyone at all.”
“I won’t. You said you got my note? John must have checked what I gave him before he went out.”
“Never mind that,” Alec said impatiently. “I’ve only got a minute. First, who knew you were meeting Bincombe?”
“Everyone. I mean, I can probably remember who was nearby when we arranged it, if I try, but at least one of them must have talked about it afterwards because Lucy’s parents knew.”
“They knew why you met?”
“No. Actually, Aunt Vickie was afraid it would give people the wrong idea but … Gosh, I’d forgotten! She actually assumed it was because Gerald wanted me to pass on some tidbit of information to you. So the idea was current, not just in the murderer’s mind.”
“Great Scott, Daisy!”
“Darling, I don’t know how to stop people thinking it’s a good idea to tell me things they want you to know.”
“Are you trying to tell me you don’t encourage them?”
“Look at Lady Ione. You were right there and I didn’t say a word. Anyway, that’s got nothing to do with it. Gerald just wanted to talk about Lucy and the rest was a misconception for which I accept absolutely no responsibility!”
Alec sighed. “Never mind that, then. Who wasn’t in the drawing room?”
“Right-oh. Angela, of course. She took the dog out right after—”
“Just names, Daisy, at least for the moment.”
“Lady Devenish. I saw her lurking in the hall outside the library when—All right, darling! Sir James wasn’t there, nor were the Carletons.
Mr. Walsdorf. Tim and Nancy. Darling, it couldn’t have been—”
“Nancy Fotheringay was extremely helpful with Bincombe until the doctor arrived. They’d both been up with Lady F and the Haverhills, easy to check.”
“Thank heaven! This is difficult, thinking who wasn’t there. Maybe I should tell you who was.”
“Make a list, please. You can add any explanations that come to mind, but underline the names so I can pick them out. Is Lucy fit to do the same?”
“I think so. She’s in a funny mood, blaming herself. Doing something positive will probably help. Shall I bring the lists down?”
“No, I’ll send someone up for them in about half an hour. Unless it’s Ernie, slide them under the door. You stay here and keep the door bolted. I’ll probably be very late, so I’ll just go and doss with Tom and Ernie.”
“Oh no, darling, tap on the door and wake me up, even if it’s three in the morning. If I’m asleep. Not knowing about Gerald …”
“You need your sleep, love, for the baby.”
“I’ll try,” Daisy promised. “I’m tired enough, but I rather think Macbeth hath murdered sleep.”
Alec kissed her. Raising his head, he looked towards the bathroom door and frowned. Daisy turned her head.
Leaning against the door-jamb, Lucy said sardonically, “Sorry, didn’t mean to snoop.”
But despite her cool tone, her hands were clenched in the pockets of her kimono, Daisy saw. Perhaps Alec also noticed, because he said quite gently, “I have to run. Bincombe is still among the living. Daisy will tell you about him. Don’t forget to bolt the door after me, Daisy.”
Daisy did so.
“Does that mean he thinks we’re really in danger?” Lucy demanded.
“I doubt that you are, darling, but presumably Gerald was bashed because he was first on the scene, and this time I was.”
“Gerald didn’t see anything. He would have told Alec hours ago. Why shouldn’t he?”
“Very likely he didn’t see anything, but you know how sometimes something you hardly noticed at the time strikes you later. I suppose the murderer was afraid of that, especially when Gerald arranged to meet me. People do tell me things when they’re not sure they want to bother the police.”
“Because the police make them feel silly if it’s unimportant.”
“Because they’re afraid they’ll look silly,” Daisy said firmly. “Quite another matter.”
“Sorry. What did Alec say about Gerald? It’s not good, is it?”
“Bad concussion, and he lost a lot of blood. Alec said he would have bled to death if Angela hadn’t … didn’t know what to do, Lucy!”
Lucy came and put her arms round Daisy, but she said, “Buck up, darling. We can’t all be medical experts. Wait a minute, did you say Angela? Cousin Angela? The one with the dogs?”
“She said she’d saved animals with similar injuries.”
They looked at each other and burst into whoops of laughter.
Their mirth did not last long but Daisy, at least, felt better. “Come on,” she said, going over to the writing table, “there are things we can do to help. I told Alec we’d make lists for him of who was in the drawing room after dinner. Pity we can’t do the same for tea-time.”
“Angela!” Lucy was still marvelling. “I’ll have to start being nice to her. Too humbling! I’d have thought he’d want to know who wasn’t there, not who was.”
“Try and remember who wasn’t, and you’ll see how much easier it is to say who was. One might simply not have noticed someone.”
“I see what you mean. Right-oh, let’s give it a go.”
Alec uttered a silent blasphemy as he came down the flight of stairs to the hall and saw the small group of people watching him, all too obviously waiting for him. Rupert strode forward to meet him.