Chapter Thirteen
An early night allowed for an early morning and I was up shortly after six. I knew there was no point in visiting Lady Hardcastle, who would be sound asleep until eight, so I did my Chinese exercises in my nightdress and then clambered back into bed to read the book I’d brought with me.
But there was a lot to do. We had at least one evildoer to catch, possibly as many as three, and we had little more than twenty-four hours to work out who he, she or they might be.
I couldn’t concentrate on the book so I got washed and dressed – yet another previously unseen outfit because heaven forfend I should be seen twice in the same dress – and set off for Lady Hardcastle’s room.
It was still not long past seven by my reckoning, so I braced myself for the inevitable grumbling and knocked.
‘Floss?’ came the voice from within.
‘None other.’
‘In you come. We’ve a lot to do.’
I entered and found her already dressed and sitting at her desk.
‘You’re up early,’ I said as I sat on the end of the bed.
‘I know – I surprised even myself. But we’ve a lot to do so I thought I’d better get a wiggle on.
I might need you to work your usual magic on the old barnet, though.
’ She waved a distracted hand at her not-quite-neat hair.
‘It looks all right from the front, but I’m told people care about what one looks like from behind as well, and I fear I might not be making a good impression on that front. Or that back, as it were.’
‘It’s nothing a garden rake and a decent pair of shears can’t fix. I’ll make you spick and/or span before you’re exposed once more to the vulgar gaze of the populace.’
‘I don’t know what I’d do without you.’
‘I hope you never need to find out. What’s our plan?’
‘For today?’ She consulted her notes. ‘Quite a few things, but most of all I want to establish exactly where Granville Bridgewater was during both our murder windows.’
‘He’s top of your list now?’
‘By default, yes. JB would be my number-one suspect, but he really hasn’t had the opportunity. Of all of them, he’s the one whose whereabouts we best know.’
‘Him and Wilson,’ I said.
‘Wilson, yes. So it can’t be him, either. He was with us when the jewels went missing and striding manfully about the island when both men were murdered.’
‘And he doesn’t have a motive anyway.’
‘Well, quite. I’d be more comfortable if I knew where Patience was during both windows, too.’
‘Do you think her capable of murder?’
‘More than capable, and more than willing, I’d wager – she had reason to hate both men.’
‘But not the others?’
‘No, I’ve given it a great deal of thought since we spoke last night.
’ She began counting off on her fingers.
‘It doesn’t make sense for it to be Clarice on her own, for obvious reasons.
Dotty is just Dotty and she has an alibi for Sidwell-Plant anyway.
She could be working with Clarice but that just seems unnecessarily complicated.
Lily wasn’t here for the jewel theft and has an alibi for Sidwell-Plant, even though we’re not completely certain where she was on Friday when Everett was killed.
I’m down to Bridgewater or Patience, with the Crawfords as long-odds outsiders.
I can’t imagine them killing to protect their putative smuggling operation – they don’t seem the types – but we’ve not checked their alibis so it feels foolish to rule them out completely. ’
‘Bridgewater and Patience it is, then. We’ll have to see what we can do.’
We were first to the dining room and had our pick of the breakfasty goodness on offer.
Whoever JB’s butcher was, he deserved full credit for the quality and tastiness of the sausages he made, and I elected once again to make myself a sausage sandwich.
There were fried eggs in one of the warmers so I added one to the bangers before slapping a slice of buttered bread on top and sitting down at the table.
‘You can take the girl out of . . .’ began Lady Hardcastle.
‘Actually, I’m never entirely certain where to say you come from.
Dear Jane Tetherington introduced you as Welsh, but your official story has it that you were born in parts unknown.
Obviously I already knew the thing you told Lily about yours and Gwenith’s births being registered in Glamorgan, but does place of birth determine nationality?
It does for the Americans – it’s in their constitution – but don’t we usually go by parentage? ’
‘I suppose we do. I prefer the idea of a matrilineal heritage, though, so that still makes me Welsh. And I spent my formative years in the Valleys so I feel a strong connection to the place. But your little phrase stumbles in the second half, don’t you think?
You can take the girl out of Wales, but you can’t take the Wales out of the girl?
What does that mean? Are you saying that my breakfast choices are uncouth and that the Welsh are ill-bred heathens?
Think carefully before you answer. Remember that I know more than a dozen ways to kill you and that I’d be a good deal cleverer about disposing of your body than our island murderer has been. ’
‘Well, if you put it like that, I can think of nothing more elegant and sophisticated than shoving a whopping great sausage and egg sandwich into one’s face first thing in the morning.’
‘That’s what I thought.’ I reached for the silver coffee pot. ‘Coffee?’
She sat down. ‘Yes, please.’
I indicated her own heavily laden plate. ‘And this is classier than my sandwich? You’ve enough there to feed a family of six.’
‘Nonsense. This is just what a growing girl needs to start the day.’
I bit into my sandwich and let the yolk drip on to the plate.
She shook her head. ‘Elegant and sophisticated.’
I swallowed my mouthful. ‘Shut your face.’
JB came in. He was clean-shaven and wearing fresh clothes, but didn’t look as though he’d slept much, if at all.
‘Good heavens, JB, you look dreadful,’ said Lady Hardcastle.
He gave her a wan smile. ‘Gee, thanks.’
‘Oh, you know what I mean. Have you slept?’
‘A little.’
‘It’s perfectly understandable, given the awful circumstances. Nothing can bring them back, but explanations will be forthcoming and justice will prevail. It will help you to come to terms with it.’
‘I guess so. I see it’s not affected your appetite, though. That’s quite a plateful you’ve got there.’
I made a ‘see?’ face at Lady Hardcastle.
‘Brain food, JB dear,’ she said. ‘Fuels the synapses and sharpens the whatnots.’
He shook his head and chuckled. ‘Is that so? Well, you go ahead and enjoy it.’
He picked up a single round of buttered toast and sat down. I poured him a cup of coffee.
‘What we’re planning to do today,’ I said, ‘is to speak to everyone and to try to get a thorough idea of where they all were during the times of both murders.’
‘Wait a minute,’ said a woman’s voice from the doorway. ‘Both murders? Who else has died now?’ It was Patience.
‘No one else,’ I said.
‘Then why are you talking about both murders? You’re not saying . . . ? Oh, my goodness. Was Everett murdered? You all said it was his heart.’
‘Don’t blame them, Speedy,’ said JB. ‘I asked them to lie. I didn’t want to spook anyone.’
‘Don’t you “Speedy” me, Joseph Brendon. The three of you looked us in the eye and said it was natural causes.’
‘To be fair,’ said Lady Hardcastle, ‘we never actually said those words. We said it was his heart and, in a manner of speaking, it was. At JB’s request we omitted the crucial, gruesome fact that his heart stopped because it had been pierced by a narwhal tusk.’
‘A narwhal . . . you mean that spear thing in the long gallery?’
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘We didn’t want to cause a panic. We thought we’d be able to keep everything under wraps until the police got here, but we hadn’t reckoned on the boat being sunk by the storm and us all being stranded here until tomorrow.’
‘Instead you just gave the murderer a chance to strike again.’
‘To be fair again,’ said Lady Hardcastle, ‘I don’t think that would have made any difference.
The murderer is the only one among the rest of you who knows we know what really happened.
They know we examined Everett’s body and that we couldn’t possibly mistake the wound for natural causes.
They’ve been well aware that we’d be trying to find out who they are since we got back to the library on Friday night. ’
‘But if the rest of us had known, we would have been on our guard. Bobby might still be alive.’
JB finally spoke up. ‘It’s my fault. I bound the ladies to secrecy. I take full responsibility.’
‘No,’ I said, ‘you shouldn’t. It’s not your fault either of the men is dead – it’s the killer’s fault. Nothing you could have said or done would have prevented their deaths.’
‘Are you sure?’ demanded Patience. ‘If Bobby had known, he would never have let anyone get close enough to stab him.’
‘Perhaps,’ I said. ‘But perhaps not. Both he and Everett were killed face to face with very little struggle. Even if they’d known that someone among us was a killer, would that really have helped? We’re all friends. Are you suggesting we’d all have turned on each other?’
She looked at me coldly for a moment. ‘How do we know it’s not you? You both have a reputation for trouble. How do we know you didn’t wheedle your way into our little group to do us in?’
I shrugged. ‘You don’t.’
‘But why would we?’ asked Lady Hardcastle. ‘What possible motive would we have for killing Everett and Robert?’
‘What motive does any of us have for the matter of that?’ asked Patience, defiantly.
‘You were furious at Everett’s bullying of Clarice,’ I said. ‘And your husband wouldn’t divorce you even though neither of you wanted to be married any more.’
‘Are you suggesting—’