Chapter 20 #2
“You wouldn’t know who did it. No, but next time someone knocks you could hide in the bathroom with your poker, keeping watch.”
“I might not be quick enough. It’s all very well putting a name to the murderer, but I’d rather you survived the experience.”
“There must be a way—” Daisy started, only to be interrupted again by a knock on the door. “Who is it?”
“Tring, Mrs. Fletcher.”
Tom’s rumble was infinitely comforting. Daisy opened the door, to find the sergeant staring after the Hon. Montagu. “What’s up?” she asked.
“Wearing his dressing-gown over his clothes, wasn’t he?”
“Yes, thank heaven.”
“So if a maid took a tea-tray to him in his room and saw him in his dressing-gown, he could be out and about in a few seconds.”
“Yes, I suppose so.”
“You’re labouring under a misapprehension, Sergeant,” Lucy drawled. “It couldn’t happen that way. All the maids have strict instructions not to enter Uncle Montie’s room alone.”
“Ah!”
“She’d leave the tray outside, knock on the door, and tell him it was there, then buzz off.”
“And when he’s done?”
“He’d put it out to be fetched.”
“So all the while he’s thought to be taking tea in his room, he could quite well be nipping downstairs to mess about with Lord Fotheringay’s tea!”
“I can’t picture Uncle Montie ‘nipping,’” said Lucy, “but otherwise, you’re absolutely right.”
“Ah,” said Tom profoundly. “What about after dinner? Was he in the drawing room?”
Lucy shook her head. “If so, I didn’t notice him.”
“Nor did I,” said Daisy. “He was still eating when everyone else except Gerald and Rupert left the dining room. He’d been with you and Alec, remember.
Gerald was going to wait until everyone was gone before he came to the drawing room to fetch me, so …
Oh, no, I’d forgotten, he had to wait till the servants had finished clearing up, too.
But that would have given Montagu time to go round by the corridor to the conservatory to lie in wait for Gerald. ”
“But anyone who left earlier and didn’t come to the drawing room had plenty of time,” Lucy pointed out.
“True. Montagu knew he wouldn’t have to hang about too long, though.”
“I’ll pass it on to the Chief, anyway,” said Tom. “Have you ladies finished your lists?”
Daisy handed them over. “Can you tell me who’s still under suspicion, Tom? It’s rather anxious-making not knowing.”
“Easier to tell you who’s not, but aside from Miss Lucy here and Lord Gerald of course, the earl and countess, and Lady Fotheringay, there’s none I can think of we’re absolutely sure of, because of the possibility of conspiracy.
These lists of yours may clear some, and we’ve just got to check that the Reverend and his missus were up with the Haverhills to clear them. Time is what we haven’t had enough of!”
“I know. We won’t keep you any longer. Just tell us how Gerald is.”
“Not good,” said Tom gravely. “Not good at all. And still unconscious.”
Daisy was bolting the door behind him when Lucy said, “I’m going to bed. If anyone else wants to consult you, you’ll just have to talk through the door.”
“Darling!”
“I’m not a nurse. I can’t help him, any more than you can. Good night.” She turned towards the bathroom door, then swung back as another knock sounded. “Oh, hell! Why can’t they leave us alone?”
“Mrs. Fletcher? It’s Adela Carleton.”
“What can I do for you, Lady Carleton? I’m just going to bed.”
“Oh, please, you simply must make your husband let us take Ursula home!”
“I’m sorry, I have absolutely no influence over his investigation. Wouldn’t he let you send her home with your chauffeur?”
“I couldn’t do that. She’s at just the age when girls fancy themselves
in love with chauffeurs and footmen and … and that sort of person.”
“Your maid—”
“We only brought one between us, and I can’t possibly spare her.”
“Well, I’m sorry, but there’s nothing I can do. Good night, Lady Carleton.” Daisy moved away from the door.
Lucy was still in the room. “I can’t think why Mummy insisted on my having that brat for a bridesmaid,” she said waspishly. “Ursula’s only a second cousin, like Julia and Erica. They needn’t have been invited at all.”
“I seem to remember someone falling for the art master when we were sixteen or so.”
“He was a jolly good photographer, even with the ghastly equipment available then. He taught me a lot.”
“And that’s why you kept sneaking off to the Art Room?” Daisy held up her hand as Lucy opened her mouth to retort. “No, I’m sorry, don’t let’s quarrel. Things are bad enough without that.”
“It’s been an absolutely foul day altogether, hasn’t it? Tomorrow can only be an improvement. ‘Night, darling.”
Lucy went through to the bathroom and closed the door.
Daisy sank into one of the easy chairs. She felt she had let Lucy down, not understanding her feelings about Gerald, not knowing what to say to help.
She hadn’t been much help to Gerald either, she thought mournfully, nor even to Alec.
And now she was too weary even to think about the case.
Before she could fall into a decline, there came yet another knock on the door. Daisy heaved herself to her feet and went over. “Who’s there?”
“It’s Sally.”
Sally couldn’t possibly have hit Gerald. She had been under Daisy’s eye in the drawing room all the time. On the other hand, Daisy was tired and she didn’t like Sally. “What is it, Sally? I’m just going to bed,” she said through the door.
“Oh, I’m sorry to disturb you, but Rupert’s grandfather is awfully disturbed about what’s been going on.”
“Understandably.”
“Yes, of course, but would you mind awfully coming to tell him how the investigation is going, reassure him that everything’s being done that can be done?”
“I don’t know how it’s going. Alec doesn’t tell me what he’s doing.”
“But you were there when—”
“I’ve told Alec all I know, which is practically nothing, and he’s told me practically nothing, which is all I know.
” Did that make sense? “But you can tell Lord Haverhill I’m quite sure everything’s being done that can be done.
I’m sorry, I really am too tired now. Say I’ll come and see him in the morning. ”
“Well, if that’s how you feel …” Sally sounded offended.
“It is,” Daisy said bluntly. “Good night.” Ungracious, she supposed, but even if she had been up to date with Alec’s investigation, she honestly wasn’t up to a harrowing account of the horrors of the day, not even for the Earl.
Any subsequent knocking on her door went unheard. Within a very few minutes she was in bed, and she didn’t have time before she dropped off to wonder whether she’d be able to sleep.