Chapter 22
Daisy held her tongue until the door closed behind her and Alec. Then she asked, “Why so snippy, darling?”
“Snippy? Was I? Sorry, it’s nothing to do with you. It’s just that every time I start interviewing anyone in this house, there’s an interruption. Mrs. Yarborough and her young criminals-in-training just arrived in Lady Tyndall’s sitting room.”
“That’s enough to drive anyone away. Jack was just telling me he has plans to reform the boys, if you don’t arrest him. Are you about to?”
“Not without some proof, or a confession, but it doesn’t look good for him, even before I know the truth about his parentage.”
“I can’t believe it. He’s such a nice boy. What about Gooch?”
“Gooch is still a possibility, but there’s one major flaw in any theory of him as murderer. Which relates to what I wanted to ask you. Think back to when Jack was looking for his father after the fireworks.”
“Right-oh. Do you want me to run through it again from the beginning of the quarrel?”
“That might be the best way. No, on second thoughts, jump to when he came back from searching in the drawing room and hall.”
“Gosh, it’s hard to remember. Only last night, but so much has happened since.”
“Try.”
“Let’s see. Did Adelaide come back with him?
No, I think not. He came back just as Gooch went out, and he told us he couldn’t find Sir Harold.
Then Gwen said Sir Harold had been talking to someone about the antique pistols earlier, so he might be in here, showing them off.
Jack went over and looked in and said no one was there. ”
“Slow down. Jack went over to the door between here and the dining room, correct?”
“Yes.”
“Was it open or closed?”
Daisy shut her eyes and tried to picture the scene. “Closed. It was closed. He—or maybe someone else, but I think it was Jack—actually said something like, ‘Why would he have closed the door?’ ”
“But Jack opened it.”
“Yes,” she said, puzzled.
“And?”
“He said, ‘It’s dark,’ or something similar.
‘No light,’ that’s it. ‘No light. No one’s there.
’ And Gwen said, ‘Maybe he went up to the study?’ Jack was ready to stop looking, but Gwen felt their father ought to take his share of entertaining the guests, especially as her mother was quite exhausted. He gave in and went—”
“In the dark?”
“No, of course not. He switched on the light.” Opening her eyes, she asked, “Is that what you wanted? I distinctly remember the click of the switch and light coming on beyond the doorway. What’s so significant about it?”
Alec sighed. “Not much, as it was off. Had it been on, it might have explained how Gooch found the pistol. Jack would be unlikely to turn on the light, since he had a torch and knew his way about. Besides, he’d have been concerned about a stray gleam escaping through the curtains.
He knew the house was supposed to be dark. ”
“But Gooch could have turned the light on and then turned it off again.”
“Exactly. So we’re no further forward. Supposing a premeditated murder by Gooch, who probably knew his wife intended a meeting with Sir Harold, he could have brought a weapon but decided, when he saw the Tyndalls’ guns, to use one of them.”
“If they’d been locked up, or hadn’t been loaded, he couldn’t have done it. He’d have had to use his own and you’d know it was him.”
“If we’re lucky, Tom may have found whatever he originally meant to use. Again, not proof but indicative.”
“If it wasn’t premeditated,” Daisy mused, “then perhaps he followed them in, noticed the guns in passing, followed them up, and overheard something which made him come down again and get a gun.”
“Which applies equally to Jack. We’ve been wondering whether Mrs. Gooch could have told him before the fireworks that she was his mother, but there’s no indication that he was under any degree of strain at that point.”
“So why, in that case, would he have followed them?”
“Good question,” Alec admitted.
“If he saw them go in together, what would he have thought?”
“I have absolutely no idea.”
“Probably that she had asked for the loan of a woolly scarf or hat or something like that. They had stacks available. Maybe she realized when she stepped outside that her own hat wasn’t going to keep her ears warm. Maybe—”
“Daisy, now you’re entering the realm of pure speculation. In any case, Jack denies absolutely having seen them. But your point is valid. Offhand, I can’t think of any reason why Jack should follow them.”
“And he had duties to attend to outside. Whereas it wouldn’t be at all surprising if Gooch, who was thoroughly uncomfortable with the whole situation, went after them.”
“True enough. I’ll bear it in mind. What were you and Jack discussing when I so rudely interrupted?”
“When you so rudely interrupted, he was telling me he expected you to arrest him any minute, though he hadn’t done it. He’d been expounding on his feelings about Mrs. Gooch’s letter.”
“To you? Great Scott, Daisy—”
“Don’t say it! I swear I didn’t invite his confidences. I think he needed to put it in words, and he said it was easier to talk to me than to his family.”
“Would you object to passing on what he told you?”
“Not at all. It tends to do away with his motive for murder, so I don’t suppose you’ll believe it, but you might as well hear it.” She explained how Jack had come to terms with the possibility of his illegitimacy. “Though I can’t believe he won’t be pleased if it turns out to be untrue,” she added.
“That would be unnatural,” Alec agreed. “I hope Ernie has found proof one way or the other.”
A few minutes later, Tom Tring came in. He carried a black calfcovered case, about fifteen inches by a foot, and four inches deep, with a monogram on the lid.
“Her jewellery,” Daisy guessed.
“That’s right, Mrs. Fletcher.” Tom set it on the table and fumbled with the tiny key. “I’m no expert, Chief, but if half of this is what it looks like, the Gooches had no need to be resorting to blackmail.” He lifted the lid to reveal little cushions of black velvet.
Daisy lifted the cushions and gasped at the gleam and glitter within. “Heavens above!” She folded out the two side pieces. “I’m no expert, either, alas, but it looks good to me. Look at the lustre of those pearls. They must be real, and worth a fortune on their own.”
“I wouldn’t care to bet against them,” said Alec. “Was the case in a safe place, Tom?”
“Down in the inn’s cellar, in a stout cupboard the landlord keeps his spirits locked up in, on account of a tramp breaking in a few years back and smashing what he didn’t drink. I gave him a receipt.”
“Fair enough. It’ll all have to be checked against the list, but I’m prepared to believe it’s the real thing, honestly come by.”
“ ‘The list’?” Daisy queried.
“Stolen property, Mrs. Fletcher. By the stamp in the passport, they haven’t been in the country long enough to have set up a theft this big, but they could’ve bought the lot off a fence for a fraction of the actual value.”
“It’s funny, she didn’t strike me as the kind of woman to enjoy wearing a lot of jewellery. I didn’t see at the party, but at the Ravens she just had a brooch, besides her wedding ring. It’s not here.”
“Gold and opal? She was wearing it,” said Alec.
“It must have been a favourite. A souvenir from the gold fields perhaps. I bet Mr. Gooch just liked to buy her good stuff. He must have loved her a lot.”
“The more reason to be jealous,” Tom pointed out, “if he reckoned she was taking up again with her old lover. By the by, Chief, PC Blount came by the Ravens to report. He’d talked to some of the local people and two or three remembered Lady Tyndall going abroad for her health and coming back with the baby boy. ”
“Yes, she’s confirmed herself that Jack was born abroad. I must bring you up-to-date on what little she told me. Daisy . . .” He stopped on the point of dismissing her as Piper came in with a sheaf of papers. “What have you got there, Ernie?”
“Blimey, Chief, the old doctor wrote everything down and never threw anything out. I’m surprised the attic floor hasn’t collapsed.
I found the Tyndalls’ records in the end, and I brought her ladyship’s.
” He laid the papers in front of Alec with the triumphant air of a dog presenting a ball to its master.
“Seems like after Miss Gwendolyn was born, Dr. Gunnicott was pretty sure Lady Tyndall couldn’t have any more children, and if she could, she shouldn’t. ”
“ ‘Pretty sure’! That’s a fat lot of use,” grumbled Tom.
“He did say it’d prob’ly kill her, Sarge. Sorry, Mrs. Fletcher, I didn’t ought to be talking about it in front of you.”
“That’s all right, Mr. Piper. You wouldn’t believe the horror stories women who’ve had children think suitable for the ears of one about to have a go for the first time. It does look as if Jack isn’t her son, doesn’t it?”
“Medicine is not an exact science,” said Alec.
“There’s a bit more, Chief. I found all the records of the three daughters’ births.
Dr. Gunnicott attended the lot, along with a midwife, and her ladyship had a hard time of it every time.
But there’s nothing for the son, though Gunnicott was still the family’s doctor.
Not even a note that she was in the family way again, no referral to a Harley Street specialist, like you might expect, considering. ”
“Any mention of advising her to go abroad for her health?”
“That,” said Ernie portentously, “was Sir Harold’s idea. The doc wrote down that he advised against it ’cause the stress of the journey was likely to do more harm than a rest cure in the most sal-salyew—”
“Salubrious, laddie.” Tom’s vast vocabulary, as extensive as his girth but rarely displayed, always came as a bit of a surprise.
Ernie was catching up but had some way to go, though he had the advantage of being able to write down practically anything in shorthand, whether he understood it or not. “Cor, ta, Sarge. How d’you guess?”
“Guess! It’ll be a sorry day when I don’t know what’s in your mind before you do, my boy.”