Chapter Eleven
“He is by far our likeliest suspect,” April muttered darkly as they left Edgwick Farm. John Troy was not a big man, but he was strong from his own labours, and a bully by nature. “The world would be a better place—particularly for his poor wife—if he was locked up for a few years.”
“He’d still come out again,” Piers pointed out, “angrier than ever. His wife is in an impossible situation. Dependent and trapped.”
“She ain’t the only one,” April said with a rare return to her natural speech.
Piers flung an arm around her, causing their horses to bump together on the path. They laughed at that.
Then Piers said, “I’d happily throw away the key on the man, if it weren’t for the likely destitution of his wife and children which would result.
But being vile to his wife doesn’t make him guilty of the attack on Edward, and I don’t think he is.
Why would he wait until last night to knock Edward down?
He’s had months to get his revenge if the affair was discovered this winter.
Plus, though Edward might not be violent by nature, he looked pretty fit and up to snuff to me.
Troy seems more like a man who prefers to hit those who won’t hit back. ”
Piers had a point or two, she knew. “The same goes for the Jensons. Why wait until now when Edward abandoned Anne some weeks ago? She is not with child, and nothing seems to have changed for her in that time.”
“Let’s go and talk to the magistrate,” Piers suggested. “At least he will know who has been in trouble for violent behaviour in the past.”
***
THE MAGISTRATE PROVED to be another surprise. To begin with he was younger than expected, probably only a couple of years older than Piers, and unmarried.
A bluff young gentleman with a raw-boned, weather-beaten face, he strode into the clearly little-used drawing room with an air of friendly astonishment.
“My lady.” He bowed with more enthusiasm than grace. “My lord, what an unexpected honour. I’m Humphrey Alexander. May I send for tea?”
“Oh, not for me, thank you,” April said.
“Nor me,” Piers added, shaking hands. “We won’t take up too much of your time, since you must be a very busy man. It is in your capacity of magistrate that we have called...”
Mr. Alexander looked slightly alarmed, an expression that only increased as Piers told the tale of the attack on Edward and the footman’s subsequent condition.
When Piers finished, Alexander scratched his head thoughtfully. “Nasty,” he commented. “And I daresay someone did have a go at the silly gudgeon as you suspect. Trouble is, we’ve got no proof of a crime unless he wakes up and accuses someone.”
“We suspected that might be the case,” Piers said. “So, we’re trying to find out from other sources what actually occurred.”
“At two in the morning?” Alexander said doubtfully. “I doubt there are any witnesses.”
“Indeed,” Piers agreed. “And I daresay this is a pretty law-abiding community.”
It was almost a question and Alexander answered it openly enough.
“Not much beyond the odd Saturday night tavern brawl,” he said.
“An occasional property dispute that goes too far. My prison cell in the basement is not very well used. All the same, this Edward has been causing trouble enough. It wouldn’t surprise me that someone took a poke at him.
I’d even have some sympathy, to be honest, though one can hardly turn a blind eye to murder.
Tell you what I’ll do, I’ll get my constable to have a look around, ask some questions.
He’s a thorough sort of fellow and everyone knows him.
If I learn anything, I’ll let you know. And perhaps you’d let me know how Edward goes on. ”
“Of course. Thank you.”
“We just felt you should be informed,” April added, “even if there is little you can do at this stage. I don’t suppose you could help us with another little problem?”
“Name it,” Alexander said.
He looked slightly dazzled, which made April want to giggle. Though Piers told her she was beautiful, he was—fortunately—biased, and she believed other men’s admiration to be largely flattery or a form of courtesy.
“Um...I suppose you know Sir Dominic and Lady Temperley very well?” she said carefully.
“Not that well, but certainly for most of my life. Why?”
“It just seems slightly odd that against our agreement she took most of her servants to London, leaving us only with the cook, a footman and two maidservants. We have eight guests. And, we have just discovered, those servants are also expected to look after the Dowager Lady Temperley whom they did leave behind.”
Alexander looked startled. “Did they? The old...lady probably refused to go.”
“Do you think so?” April debated whether or not to say the dowager had been more or less locked in her room. “At any rate, have you ever heard of her being violent? Or a danger to anyone?”
Alexander grinned. “Lord, no. She’s got a temper, mind you. Blistered me when I was a boy more than once, verbally speaking. I hear she’s taken to throwing things at her maid, but she generally misses.”
Piers touched his bruised chin. “I must have been lucky,” he murmured. “Then you don’t believe Sir Dominic would object if his mother joined us occasionally?”
“I’m sure he’d be grateful.”
“Why do you think they took all the servants?” Piers asked bluntly. “The dowager told us the London house staff had quit.”
“Probably couldn’t pay two lots of staff anymore,” Alexander said, then shifted in his seat, colouring. “Or so rumour says. Temperley’s pockets are to let, apparently, and he’s got a daughter to bring out. Needs a better match for her than he’d get around here.”
“So, if it was a matter of losing face here or in London, they would rather it was here?”
“Exactly,” Alexander said, apparently pleased by his understanding. “Doesn’t help you, of course, but you can always withhold some of your rent since they broke the agreement. Not my place to advise you, of course,” he added hastily.
“No, you’ve been very helpful,” Piers said, rising to his feet. “Much appreciated. Do call on us whenever you wish.”
***
“WE APPEAR TO BE SOLVING all the lesser mysteries,” April said discontentedly as they rode back to Temper House, “without touching on who attacked Edward.”
“I think they do touch,” Piers argued. “Because they are short of blunt to pay two sets of staff, they took most of their country staff to town. I suspect Edward was left behind at least in part because he is disruptive, particularly to the female staff. And perhaps because the old lady likes him. Then we have plenty of motives for the attack. We know he has trifled to some degree with both Peggy and Becky at the house. Also with Anne Jenson the blacksmith’s daughter, and Mrs. Troy at Edgwick. ”
“I think Mrs. Troy lied about her husband being home and asleep all night. He did too.”
“That may well be true,” Piers allowed.
“In which case, we can’t rule him out just because he could have thumped Edward a few weeks ago.
Grudges can build in the mind. He could have been set off by anything, from an ale too many to the mention of Edward’s name.
You’re probably right about him not hitting those who hit back, but we think Edward was ambushed, don’t we? He didn’t fight back.”
Piers grimaced. “Valid points. You’re right, of course. We can’t actually rule anyone out.”
“I’m inclined to rule out Harold,” April said. “Though not necessarily his father.”
“I don’t know. I can’t see Jenson lying in wait for Edward. I think he would have faced him in broad daylight and thumped him weeks ago when he abandoned Anne or took up with Peggy. There may even be other women we haven’t heard of.”
“Peggy threw him over,” April said thoughtfully, “for trifling with Becky. But she’s not exactly broken-hearted, is she? A girl that pretty will always have other options. Other ambitions.”
Piers cast her a quick look. “Meaning gentlemanly options?”
“Why not? Dr. Fosterson definitely noticed her. He may not have touched, but he might have felt driven to defend her.”
“What, by lying in wait for Edward and clubbing him to the point of death? He’s a physician!”
April had known Piers wouldn’t like the idea, but it still hurt that he was quite so dismissive. At the same time, she liked that he defended his friends. Only where was the logic and dispassion he had always brought to their mysteries before?
“He was up and dressed when we brought Edward home,” she reminded him.
“So was Becky. Who is a strong young woman with a recent motive.”
“And Mallory Keith, by his own admission. Do you suppose Edward insulted Meg?”
Piers shook his head impatiently. “The lying in wait, the attack in the dark, they’re all wrong. I’m not saying either Fosterson or Keith are incapable of temper, or even violence in the right circumstances, but in this situation, I genuinely can’t see it.”
“What about Dr. Hale?” she asked, since she had begun.
“Because Claudia looked at Edward? No, the same applies. Even if it didn’t, there was no real time for any of these minor resentments or attachments to become important.
One foolish glance, a pretty face, an insolent word—none of them are enough to inspire such an attack.
” A frown had pulled down his brow. “The cause must be an older grudge. The culprit has to be someone who lives here.”
“Who?”
“Whose nose did Edward put out of joint by turning Peggy’s head?”
“The head gardener’s son,” April said. “We should speak to him today.”
They had walked their horses onto the main drive to Temper House, and from there they could see the others gathered on the lawn.
“After pall-mall,” said Piers.
***
BERT GODLEY THE UNDERGARDENER at Temper House and son of the head gardener, leaned on his spade and wiped the sweat from his forehead.
He was digging over a new flower bed as his father had bade him, and from there he could see the house tenants playing pall-mall on the lawn. No doubt they were churning it up.