Chapter 8 #2
“Yes,” Penelope said. “That’s been very clear.
His knowledge of those he preyed on was central to his scheme’s success, and I have to say that he demonstrated considerable inventiveness both in the way he transformed relatively innocuous secrets into potential scandals and in his selection of places to leave his payments.
Not many would have thought of using a railway carriage! ”
Barnaby was nodding. “He was bold but also careful and crafty.”
Stokes grimaced. “And that resulted in his victims—all of them—not having a clue who their blackmailer was.”
“Except”—Penelope tilted her head—“if we’re correct in thinking it was Monty’s blackmailing that got him killed, then plainly, whoever murdered him had learned his secret.” Reflected firelight danced on the lenses of her spectacles as she looked at Barnaby, then Stokes. “How?”
Stokes raised his black brows. “Underhill slipped up somewhere, and one of his victims noticed enough to put two and two together.”
“And,” Barnaby added, “if our theory of rage fueling the deed is correct, then presumably, it was the realization of the blackmailer’s identity that ignited a blaze of murderous fury in our killer.”
Stokes frowned, then ventured, “Acting on such an eruption of rage, which I agree is the most likely scenario with this murder, implies that the moment of ignition—of realization—had to have only just occurred.” He looked at Penelope. “Within a matter of minutes before the deed.”
Penelope, too, was frowning, no doubt reviewing the timeline of the murder in her mind.
Her expression clearing, she focused on Barnaby’s face, then glanced at Stokes.
“That suggests that something happened at about nine o’clock on Monday morning that revealed to the killer that Monty was the blackmailer.
” She paused, then went on, “I did wonder if it could have been Monty looking for Regina’s payment in the hollow tree, and the killer had somehow guessed and had been watching that place, saw him, and realized…
” She grimaced. “But that won’t wash, because Regina hadn’t placed her payment into the hollow, so there was nothing to say that the hollow wasn’t just a hollow or a bird’s nest—nothing revealing at all. ”
Stokes had hauled out his notebook, flicked through the pages, and was studying his scrawl.
“Multiple people have placed Underhill in the library at around nine o’clock.
Prior to that, he was in the dining room at the breakfast table—nothing revealing about that, I would have thought.
And after he chatted with the gentlemen in the library, he went outside, and shortly after that, his killer found him in the orchard at the hollow tree and struck. ”
“I agree,” Barnaby said, “that something that exposed Monty as the blackmailer to one of his until-then-ignorant victims had to have happened around that time, most likely in the library. But what?”
Stokes flipped through several pages, stopped, read, then said, “There were five gentlemen in the library at the time—Elliot, Morehouse, Carrington, Morland, and Wincombe. All were there before Underhill walked in, and all remained until after the Hemmings girl screamed. All five have told us that Underhill came in, chatted and inquired if all was well, then he said he was going outside to check on some estate matter and left. Subsequently, the two old ladies—Lady Campbell-Carstairs and Lady Kelly—saw Underhill go out of the front door, and Nevin-Smythe did as well.”
Penelope stated, “We need to ask the five gentlemen exactly what Monty said…” She grimaced. “But all five remained in the library, so the critical revelation didn’t lie in Monty’s words.”
“Nevertheless”—Stokes jotted a note—“we should confirm that all five remained in the library throughout, and one didn’t go out for a few minutes, then return, and the others haven’t thought to mention it.”
A rap on the door had the three of them twisting to look that way, and Barnaby called, “Come.”
The door opened, and Morgan stuck his head around the panel. He saw them, grinned, stepped inside, and shut the door, then he crossed to halt beside Stokes’s chair and snap off a salute. “Just came to report, guv.” He nodded to Penelope and Barnaby. “Sir. Ma’am.”
Morgan returned his gaze to Stokes. “I’d spelled Walsh in the study, and he relieved me just now.
But earlier, I spoke with the gardeners about that stake, and they all agree it’s one of theirs and that the number means something, but none of those around today knew what.
However, they said the head gardener will know, but he was off at some market today.
He’ll be back tomorrow, and apparently, he’ll be able to tell us what that thirty-five painted on the stake means.
The other gardeners all felt sure it’ll tell us where in the grounds the stake came from. ”
“That’s something at least.” Stokes added another note in his book, then looked up at Morgan. “Follow up with the head gardener tomorrow. Report as soon as you learn anything useful.” Morgan nodded, and Stokes went on, “So Walsh is back in the study?”
“Aye, guv. I’ll go over in the small hours and relieve him, like I did this morning.”
“Good. In that case, you’d best be off to have some dinner and get some sleep.”
Morgan saluted, nodded to Penelope and Barnaby, and left.
As the door closed behind him, Penelope remarked, “I must admit that learning that Monty was an established blackmailer is a fact I’m still struggling to fully assimilate. I’m sure there’ll be consequences I’ve yet to see.”
Barnaby felt much the same. “One point—all his victims are members of the ton. No staff or people of lesser social standing. That might be an outcome of him using people’s visits to Wyndham Castle to glean their secrets—”
“And that suggests,” Penelope concluded, “that the killer will most likely be someone who has stayed at the castle at some point.”
Stokes scrawled a note. “That might be a way of winnowing our suspects list.” He glanced at Penelope. “Once we finish the interviews and have it complete, we should ask Lady Pamela and Lady Susan which of those on the list have visited the castle. It seems likely they will know.”
Frowning lightly, Penelope nodded. After a moment, she said, “Regarding who was where at the time of the murder, the guests seem to have had certain gathering places, which is helpful for us. After leaving the breakfast table—and everyone had by the time of the murder, even Nevin-Smythe—most guests went to the library, the billiards room, the morning room, the conservatory, or the music room. Only a handful went off on their own—three upstairs to their rooms, where they say they remained throughout the hour, Lady Susan, who went to the rose garden, and Lady Wincombe, who went upstairs and then to the croquet green, and her niece Harriet, who trailed after her.” Her frown deepened.
“We have several guests yet to interview, but thus far, there are not many who might have been Monty’s killer. ”
Barnaby offered, “The five in the library saw Monty go out into the hall and turn toward the front door, and Nevin-Smythe and Richard’s aunts saw him go outside. We know that much, but not what happened next.”
A knock on the door was followed by O’Donnell looking inside. Stokes waved at his sergeant to join them, and O’Donnell came in, shut the door, and, looking distinctly weary, plodded over and nodded respectfully to the three of them.
Then O’Donnell looked at Stokes. “I spoke with all the gamekeepers round about. They seemed the most likely to know if any stranger was lurking in their woods, and they all swear there isn’t a one.
” He visibly drooped. “I circled the whole estate, went into all the nearby villages, found the gamekeepers of all the surrounding properties, and chatted with the locals as well—the farmers and farmhands. No one has spotted anyone they can’t put a name to, and no one was anywhere they weren’t supposed to be.
” His lips twisted, and he met Stokes’s eyes.
“Seems a right law-abiding neighborhood hereabouts.”
Barnaby, Penelope, and Stokes understood O’Donnell’s skepticism, but their only interest was in some unknown stranger.
“Thank you for being so thorough.” Stokes dismissed O’Donnell with an appreciative nod. “You’d better join Morgan in the tap and get yourself a good dinner.”
“Aye, guv. I’ll do that.” O’Donnell nodded to them all and dragged himself to the door.
As the door shut, Penelope observed, “So much for our fictional passing homicidal maniac.”
Stokes snorted. “Indeed. But that makes it as good as certain that our murderer is still at the Grange and, given Underhill’s choice of victim, almost certainly one of the guests.”
Penelope nodded. “Even if we imagine that another of Monty’s victims, one not at the house party, somehow realized their blackmailer was him and came down here intending to kill him…
” She grimaced. “It’s hard to see that happening, isn’t it?
The property is large, so how could someone from beyond its boundaries know that Monty would be in the orchard at that time? ”
“Even if they’d been watching the house from the cover of the woods, why be there watching in the first place?
Surely not on the off chance that Monty would obligingly wander out alone and walk into the orchard?
” Barnaby shook his head. “No. Someone intent on murdering Monty coming from outside the estate doesn’t make much practical sense. ”
“Also,” Penelope went on, “if the motive for the murder is Monty’s blackmailing activities—and as yet, we’ve found no other possibility—then a murderer coming from outside the estate implies that person had learned but only just learned that Monty was their blackmailer.”
“We’re a bit more than an hour from London,” Stokes observed. “That scenario might be possible.”