Chapter Eleven
Lunch, as the kitchen aromas had promised, was magnificent.
Talented chefs can work wonders with sauces and delicate, fussy ingredients.
But a country house cook, with nothing more than a joint of beef, some roast potatoes and a few vegetables, can conjure up a meal so thrillingly spectacular that men will offer their entire fortunes for just one more bite of gravy-soaked Yorkshire pudding.
Despite the impression I’d gained from Patience and Clarice’s urgent desire to leave the others in the library, the assembled guests were in quite good form. Conversation was light and bright, and hatchets, if not buried, had at least been laid to one side for the time being.
JB seemed to have been waiting until Lady Hardcastle and I both had our mouths full. ‘I gather you two ventured outside. Did you enjoy your walk?’
I struggled to swallow my food. ‘Enjoyable but extremely blowy. The grotto is pleasantly sheltered, though.’
‘Isn’t it?’ said Wilson. ‘The way it sits in that natural little bowl seems to protect it from all but the very worst of the weather.’
‘It was surprisingly comfortable. Oh, and we found Smugglers’ Cove, too.’
JB smiled. ‘I think that’s actually called the South Landing on the official charts.’
‘Which just goes to show how boring the Admiralty can be,’ said Lady Hardcastle.
‘Not an ounce of romance in their souls. You’d think sailors would be a sentimental lot – all that concertina music and yearning to return to their sweethearts – but they’ve not an ounce of imagination between them.
Military intelligence, on the other hand—’
‘Oxymoron, what?’ said Bridgewater.
‘Well, quite. But they come up with some wonderful codenames. Operation Bunny Rabbit was one of my favourites. And they once recruited an agent in Cairo who played for the embassy cricket team. Absolute duffer. His codename was W. G. Graceless.’
‘How on earth do you know that?’ asked Patience.
‘Oh, one picks up little titbits here and there. It’s astonishing how indiscreet people can be.’
‘She knows quite a lot about indiscretion, our Speedy,’ said Bridgewater with a wink.
Patience scowled. ‘Oh, do shut up, Gran, there’s a good boy.’
‘If you can’t take the heat, dear girl, stay out of strange men’s bedrooms.’
‘You need to be careful, dear boy, or I might indiscreetly let slip something I learned about you from Robert.’
And with that, the atmosphere reverted to its earlier frosty state. Bridgewater went white, Patience went red, Dotty looked absolutely terrified, and I realized Patience had lied to us earlier: she did know what was going on between the solicitor and the accountant.
The silence lasted for almost a minute before conversation resumed, but this time with people talking only to their neighbours and not to the whole table.
Honestly, if the roast hadn’t been one of the best I’d eaten in a long while, I’d have made my excuses and returned to my room, but it’s surprising how strong the pull of hearty nosh can be.
The spotted dick and custard kept me at the table for a little longer but, as soon as it was seemly, I gave Lady Hardcastle the signal and we made a polite exit.
The library had become our preferred sanctuary. Its size made it eminently suitable for large groups, and the large group was avoiding it, presumably in an effort to keep to themselves.
Once more we’d taken our coffees with us, but this time Lady Hardcastle managed to sit rather than prowl and I managed not to burden myself with a tedious book.
‘How are we going to approach Sidwell-Plant?’ I asked. ‘We need to pin him down and find out once and for all what he’s been up to.’
‘And, just as importantly, what he knows about what Bridgewater has been up to.’
There was an ahem from the doorway. It was Dotty. ‘I think I might be able to help you there.’
‘Dear Dotty,’ said Lady Hardcastle. ‘Come and join us. I do apologize for my indiscretion. I shouldn’t be gossiping.’
The third chair was still in place around the little table and she came to sit with us.
‘It’s not gossip if it’s true, dear. Or is it? Am I thinking of slander? Whatever it is, Gran is up to something and I just don’t know how to deal with it any more. My poor nerves.’
‘And do you want to tell us?’ asked Lady Hardcastle. ‘You really don’t have to.’
No, you really do, I thought. Not knowing is doing my nerves in.
‘You know he’s JB’s English solicitor?’
‘We do.’
‘He has control over certain aspects of JB’s companies and trusts – he’s responsible for various accounts, and deals with all the payments. For the past few years he’s been . . . he’s been . . . he’s been—’
‘He’s been making payments to an account of his own?’ suggested Lady Hardcastle.
Dotty nodded. ‘Just a few pounds at first. We needed to have the roof repaired. But then there was some plumbing work in the kitchen and he took a little more to cover that. And then a little more for a few other items of household maintenance. And it was all so easy. He could barely believe he got away with it. So he took a little more to pay for some wine. And more for dresses for me and suits for him. And more for a new dinner service. And a little more to restock the wine cellar. And it went on and on. I dread to think how much he’s .
. . used. No, stolen. He stole it and it’s driving me mad.
I can barely sleep for the worry. He doesn’t care, of course.
He’s always been one for the finer things and he resents having to live a life where he can’t have them.
He reasons that it’s not as if he’s stealing from charities – he’s stealing from a man so rich he doesn’t know what to do with all his wealth.
’ She stopped for a moment. ‘Good heavens, it’s a relief to say all that out loud. You have no idea how hard it’s been.’
‘Guilt is a terrible burden,’ I said. ‘Even when the misdeeds are not your own. Would we be right in assuming that Sidwell-Plant knows? He’s an accountant so putting two and two together is very much his forte.
When he saw all those unusual disbursements to an account he didn’t recognize, it wouldn’t have taken him long to work out where the money was going. ’
‘He knows. And he’s given Gran an ultimatum: give the money back or he’ll tell JB. He’s so damnably proper. He won’t divorce Speedy, and he can’t turn a blind eye to Gran’s embezzlement. There’s no such thing as a grey area where Robert’s concerned.’
I wasn’t entirely convinced there was anything even vaguely grey about misappropriating funds from a client, but I didn’t like to say.
Dotty sighed. ‘A good part of my guilt comes from the fact that I enjoy it all so much. I love living in a nice house and having nice things. But he’s never satisfied.
He spends and spends and there’s nothing left to pay back.
If JB finds out, we’ll be destitute. I simply can’t bear to think about it. ’
‘Is there really nothing left?’ asked Lady Hardcastle.
‘Barely a shilling. We’d have to sell the house, but even that’s mortgaged. And then what would we do? If the Law Society found out, he’d never work again.’
‘JB’s not a vindictive man. He won’t be happy to learn that his trusted adviser has been stealing from him and he’ll definitely want the money back, but one doubts he’d behave unreasonably.’
‘It’s a terrible thing to have dangling over us, though, isn’t it? I could swing for that stupid Patience and her big mouth. I thought she was my friend but she had to try to score points at dinner.’
‘To be fair,’ I said, ‘Mr Bridgewater had been extremely insulting. If he’d said that to a man he might expect a fat lip at the very least.’
Dotty sighed again. ‘Keeping his mouth shut has never been one of Gran’s talents.’ After another moment’s silence, she said, ‘I don’t suppose you could intercede with Robert on Gran’s behalf? You’re a neutral observer, after all. Do you think you could?’
Lady Hardcastle raised an eyebrow. ‘Well . . .’
‘Please? Everyone is in awe of you. I’m sure if you explained the situation you might be able to persuade Robert to at least delay his snitching.’
‘In awe of me?’
‘Of both of you, darling. Dear Clarice might be a world-renowned violinist, but she hasn’t fought villains and dodged bullets. To my knowledge she hasn’t solved a single murder. You live lives of glamour and excitement that we can only dream of.’
‘Well,’ said Lady Hardcastle, ‘when you put it like that . . .’
I knew well the speed at which Lady Hardcastle’s mind worked, but I couldn’t be certain that she was going to seize this perfect opportunity. We needed an excuse to talk openly to Sidwell-Plant, and Dorothy was handing it to us on a decorated plate with whipped cream and a strawberry on top.
‘Of course we shall,’ I said. ‘We can’t guarantee the results, but we can certainly talk to him and try to persuade him to follow a more generous course.’
Dotty smiled for the first time since she’d entered the room.
With a proper excuse to question Sidwell-Plant, we finally felt justified in tracking him down and probing him for proper details of his actions over the past couple of days.
We eventually found him, in the drawing room, playing a solo game of snooker.
‘Good afternoon, ladies. Care to join me?’
‘I’ll not, thank you,’ said Lady Hardcastle with a smile.
‘I’m something of a duffer at that sort of thing.
Florence, on the other hand, is an absolute wiz at anything that involves aiming.
’ She turned to me. ‘I always thought you should have studied applied mathematics, dear – you have an instinctive understanding of ballistics, and of elastic collisions.’
‘I can’t fire a gun,’ I said.
‘You won’t fire a gun, dear. There’s a difference. On the vanishingly small number of occasions when you’ve been compelled by circumstance to use firearms, you’ve proven yourself to be a remarkably good shot.’
I bowed my head in acknowledgement.