Chapter 10 #4
“If you think about the fateful payment he arranged to be left in the library vase,” Barnaby said, “if it hadn’t been for that window, he would almost certainly have retrieved that payment with no one the wiser.
He made one mistake—just one—but it was with the wrong victim, one quick-thinking enough to see the opportunity and capitalize on it. ”
Reluctantly accepting that, Penelope inclined her head. After a moment, she looked at Stokes. “So how are we to approach the mountain of information before us and tease out the pertinent points?’
Stokes arched a brow at her. “Logically, as always, I expect. And apropos of that, I think our first question should be: Are we correct in believing that the murderer is the person named on the page removed from Underhill’s black book?”
Penelope was already pulling out her lists.
“All Monty’s female victims are either alibied by others or, like Regina, incapable of the deed.
So assuming the killer is one of Monty’s male victims, did he find the book and tear out the page?
Or did Monty tear out that page at some earlier time for some other reason, and the killer is one of those still named in the book? ”
Barnaby nodded. “I’ve been wondering about that, but the only male victims presently at the Grange whose names remain in the book are Morland and Nevin-Smythe, and neither were due to make payments while here.”
He looked at Penelope as she flicked through her lists, comparing and cross-checking.
After a moment, she replied, “On top of that, Morland was with the other gentlemen in the library the whole time, and Nevin-Smythe, who was seen in the front hall on the way to the billiards room as Monty left the house, remained in the billiards room with Griffith until everyone heard Rosalind scream.”
Stokes nodded in satisfaction. “Good. That’s one point settled.
The killer tore out the page that referred to him in the black book and left it for us to find, intending to cast suspicion on the other victims among the company.
” He met Barnaby’s and Penelope’s gazes.
“That option best fits what we know thus far. It also suggests we’re dealing with a cold-blooded and calculating character. ”
Barnaby steepled his fingers before his face. “Let’s accept that as our foundation—that the murderer was one of Monty’s male victims, and after murdering Monty, he found the black book and tore out the page referring to him.”
Penelope’s eyes narrowed. “Given none of the victims we’ve spoken with were aware that Monty was their blackmailer, can we assume that, when the murderer arrived at the Grange, he likewise did not know his blackmailer’s identity?”
Stokes stirred, then offered, “I think we can and should assume that. At the most, he might have suspected, but he didn’t know, or else he would have come much better prepared.”
“Nor would he have been so enraged on learning his blackmailer was Monty,” Barnaby observed.
Stokes nodded. “My instincts say he had no clue, any more than the others did. But of course, he was desperate to know, which is why he seized on the chance afforded by the positioning of the vase and why, as you say, he was so enraged on learning the blackmailer’s identity.
This was a hot-blooded, opportunistic slaying, not a planned execution, and we know that, in his cooler moments, even under pressure, as he would have been while searching the study, our killer is careful and clever. Normally, he thinks before he acts.”
“So,” Barnaby concluded, “learning the blackmailer’s identity was a massive shock, one the blackmailer hadn’t anticipated or foreseen in any way, which was why he reacted so forcefully and ferociously. He’s not otherwise given to impulsive acts.”
“Actually”—Penelope tipped her head—“that’s a point to note. Whoever our murderer is, he felt…a lot, but mostly, I suspect, he felt immensely betrayed. Given Monty’s image, the one everyone has of him, that he was a sound and solid friend to all, that makes some sense.”
“Regardless,” Stokes said, “we need to verify that when Underhill entered the library and chatted with the men there, he actually approached the vase in a way that would have allowed him to extract the payment.”
Barnaby said, “So we have our murderer standing in the trees, watching with the spyglass through the library window, and he sees Monty go to the vase and remove the payment our murderer had earlier deposited in the vase. The murderer is poleaxed to discover that Monty is his blackmailer, and rage overcomes him—and before he has a chance to cool down and think, Monty walks out of the house and strolls off toward the orchard.”
“And our murderer sees his chance to vent his fury.” Penelope took up the tale. “He seizes the iron stake conveniently near him and stalks after Monty.”
Stokes nodded. “Our murderer didn’t come to the Grange expecting to kill anyone, but events collided, and he reacted.”
Frowning, Barnaby said, “I can’t see that we’ll have any luck trying to track who placed the payment in the vase. There are too many opportunities prior to any of the other men entering the library on Monday morning, including during all of the previous night.”
“All we can say,” Penelope stated, “and really, all we need to know is that our victim-turned-murderer placed his payment in the vase, saw the window and recognized the chance it offered, then saw the spyglass, picked it up, and later, used it to watch Monty pick up the payment.”
“And,” Barnaby said, “he returned the spyglass to the library the following day, and again, there are too many hours during which he might have done that unobserved to get us any further.”
After a moment of ruminating, Stokes said, “As I see it, the critical point is that at the time Monty picked up the payment and left the library and then the house, the murderer was in the trees. He was out of the house and out of sight of all others during that time.”
Penelope added, “And it seems he didn’t return to the house until after Rosalind screamed, and everyone else rushed outside.”
“As to that,” Barnaby said, “the mystery gentleman Vincent and Patterson saw leaving the house via the wood to the east—and later, after Rosalind had screamed, Fentiman and Samantha saw returning via the same route—is almost certainly our killer. He had to have left the house before nine o’clock to circle around and be in position in the trees to see his blackmailer pick up the payment, and later, after killing Monty, he returned the same way.
If you think about it, it’s possible to move under the cover of trees the whole way.
He never had to step into the open except for the few paces to and from the orchard entrance arch, and at the time, there was no one else around to see him. ”
“True.” Penelope went on, “But once he’d returned to the house, he didn’t go outside and join the others on the lawn.
Instead, by then, he’d started thinking more clearly, and he seized the moment of universal distraction to slip into the study and search…
” Brows rising, she looked at Stokes and Barnaby.
“For what, exactly? It couldn’t have been Monty’s black book, because the killer couldn’t have known such a record existed. ”
“No,” Barnaby agreed. “It wasn’t the black book—that was an incidental and lucky find for him.
Presumably, he was searching for some evidence he believes Monty had of his malfeasance—the basis for the blackmail.
And because the killer hadn’t known Monty was his blackmailer, the search couldn’t have occurred before that moment.
” He glanced at Penelope. “So yes, the search definitely occurred at that time, and while everyone else was outside at the front of the house, the killer was in the study.”
Penelope nodded. “So he won’t have been seen by anyone else between ten o’clock and sometime after ten-thirty or even later—whenever the company returned indoors.”
“Even more importantly,” Stokes said, scribbling a note, “is that the evidence of malfeasance Underhill held must still exist, although where he might have hidden it for safekeeping is anyone’s guess. It might not even be in this house.”
Frowning, Penelope ventured, “Tangible evidence—documentary evidence—doesn’t fit with the killer’s crime being an indiscretion or something of that nature.”
“No,” Barnaby agreed. “Tangible evidence that the killer believes Monty held makes the killer’s secret significantly more serious.” He met Stokes’s gaze. “Serious to the point of pushing a man to murder to keep it concealed.”
Penelope’s frown deepened. “I’m trying to think of whom among the guests might have such a secret and coming up with no idea.
” After a moment, she suggested, “Let’s compile what we know of our murderer.
” She raised one hand and started counting on her fingers.
“He’s a cold-blooded and calculating character. ”
“Except when in the grip of unexpected rage,” Barnaby added.
“And sadly,” Stokes said, “that doesn’t exactly single him out.”
Undeterred, Penelope continued, “He’s been a guest at Wyndham Castle.”
“Again,” Stokes remarked, “that doesn’t appreciably narrow our list of suspects.”
Penelope moved on to her third finger. “He has a secret of the order that would drive him to kill to keep it hidden.”
Stokes inclined his head, conceding the point.