Chapter 8 #3
“Also of note,” Stokes said, reading from his jottings, “is that Imogen Fitzhugh told us that when she and her family first arrived in the Moran House drawing room, Vincent and Theodore were absent. The rest of the Southerly family were in the room, but Vincent and Theodore didn’t come in until about fifteen minutes later, sometime after the earl had joined the company. ”
“And don’t forget,” Barnaby said, “that George Fitzhugh told us that Vincent and Theodore were also involved in the cousins’ occasional pilfering from the earl.”
Penelope was frowning. “Theodore can’t have poisoned himself with the whiskey, not if the poison was only mixed with the liquor when Winslow filled the empty decanter.”
“More to the point,” Barnaby said, “if he had, he would most likely have died before leaving Moran House.” He met Stokes’s gaze. “Judging by the time the poison took to affect Winslow, it’s difficult to see how Theodore falling ill could be linked to the strychnine.”
Stokes grimaced and nodded.
After a moment, he sat, and with eyes trained on the open doorway, they waited impatiently for someone to come.
Eventually, they heard brisk footsteps come down the stairs, and an instant later, an exasperated-looking gentleman, clad in a dark suit and carrying a medical man’s black bag, walked into the room.
The man’s sharp gaze focused on them, and as Stokes rose, the man raised his thick, bushy eyebrows. “Inspector Stokes?”
Stokes nodded and introduced Barnaby and Penelope, who had also got to their feet.
Politely, the man bowed, then stated, “I’m Dr. Gilroy, the Southerlys’ family physician. I was called in to treat young Theodore.”
“In your opinion,” Barnaby said, “what is the cause of Theodore’s sudden illness?”
Gilroy primmed his lips, then replied, “He’s denying any link, but I’ve been told there was a case of strychnine poisoning at a house the family visited for dinner last evening.
” Gilroy eyed Barnaby shrewdly. “I know nothing of the circumstances and cannot account for the time difference—the lag in the time since Theodore was there and the onset of his symptoms, which apparently came on midmorning today—but to my mind and, I would think, in the opinion of any experienced medical man who examined Theodore, he is suffering from a mercifully slight exposure to the same poison. Indeed, in my view, he’s deuced lucky to be alive. ”
“So,” Barnaby said, “somehow, Theodore ingested strychnine.”
Gilroy nodded. “So it seems.” He looked at Stokes, who was busily jotting. “These days, my colleagues and I see enough cases of accidental strychnine poisoning through people mishandling rat poison or bait powder that we can be quite sure about the signs.”
Stokes inclined his head and continued writing.
“Will Theodore recover?” Penelope asked.
“Oh yes. As I said, the exposure was mercifully slight. He’s going to feel very sorry for himself for quite a few days, but I imagine the resilience of youth will kick in, and by next week, he’ll be feeling much more the thing.”
“Thank you, Doctor.” Stokes looked at Gilroy. “Is there anything more you can tell us?”
Gilroy thought, then said, “I don’t believe so. However, the viscount asked me to tell you that he would be down momentarily.”
Barnaby and Penelope added their thanks to Stokes’s, and Gilroy departed.
The front door had only just closed behind the doctor when they heard measured footsteps descending the stairs, then Viscount Southerly appeared.
A minor nobleman who could accurately be described as neat and conservative, and not just in his dress, Southerly was of average height, with an oval face and somewhat severe features. His brown hair was cut short, and while his hazel eyes appeared tired, his gaze remained sharp.
Barnaby had heard Southerly described as a careful man of sterling character. His manner was agreeable, quietly congenial, and he was not in any way in need of funds.
At present, Southerly’s features were set in lines that denoted deep concern.
“Mr. and Mrs. Adair.” Southerly half bowed to Penelope, then nodded to Barnaby and Stokes.
“Inspector Stokes.” He gestured at them to resume their seats, and he moved to claim an armchair facing the sofa, angled to the one Stokes occupied.
Southerly leaned back with a small, half-suppressed sigh.
“I take it Gilroy filled you in on Theo’s sudden illness? ”
Barnaby responded, “Gilroy believes it to be a survivable case of strychnine poisoning. Given Winslow’s recent death from the same poison, it’s difficult not to imagine a link.”
“Indeed.” Gravely, Southerly inclined his head.
“However, to this point, Theo is maintaining that he only ate and drank what everyone else did while at Moran House.” Southerly paused, then went on, “Other than that Winslow died in the early hours from a dose of strychnine, we have heard no further details.” Southerly glanced at Stokes.
“Do you know how he came to be poisoned?”
“We believe,” Barnaby replied, “that the poison was in the whiskey decanter in the earl’s study.
It appears that Winslow helped himself to a small tot just before retiring.
However, prior to the earl being found murdered, the decanter had been emptied, and Winslow was in the cellar, refilling the decanter, when the earl was killed. ”
“We’ve yet to ascertain exactly how the poison was introduced into the decanter and by whom,” Stokes added. “Nevertheless, it appears that the decanter was the source of the poison that killed Winslow.”
“I think,” Barnaby said, “that we must assume that the poison was placed into the emptied decanter at some point during the day.”
“Consequently, earlier in the evening,” Penelope extrapolated, “the decanter would most likely have appeared to be empty.”
Openly perplexed, Southerly shook his head.
“I can’t imagine how Theo came into contact with the stuff.
” He met Barnaby’s eyes. “I’m aware that he and Vincent vanished from our sight for several minutes when we first arrived at Moran House.
They say they went to the back of the house to see if they could find that lad—Julian, Mrs. Alder’s son.
They know him quite well, but they say they didn’t find him and returned to the drawing room.
After that, they remained with the company throughout the rest of the evening. ”
Southerly raised his hands, palms up. “How Theo managed to dose himself with the poison, and the doctor says that happened today, not last night, I simply cannot fathom.”
Barnaby looked at Stokes, then at Penelope, but none of them had any viable suggestion.
After exchanging a glance with Stokes, Penelope ventured, “Setting aside the matter of Theodore’s poisoning and turning to the murder of the earl, were you aware of anyone who wished him ill?”
“No,” Southerly replied. “But Moran was a very private man and kept himself quite apart from the family. He had his own interests, both political and in business investments, and did not share any of that with anyone.” He paused, then added, “I’m not sure he even had any close friends to whom I might direct you. ”
Penelope said, “We’ve spoken with others of the family, and without exception, everyone has commented on the late earl’s…well, frugality.” She met Southerly’s gaze. “Do you have a similar view?”
Southerly’s features hardened. “Yes, although I would label Gordon’s attitude as simple stinginess.
He was positively miserly toward everyone except himself.
Even Victoria, who, in large part, he saw as an extension of himself, he kept on a ridiculously tight budget.
Frankly, I didn’t approve.” He met Barnaby’s gaze.
“As far as I’m aware, there was no financial reason for Gordon’s peculiar habits.
More, as the years have rolled on, those habits only became more deeply entrenched and ingrained. ”
His gaze sharpening, Barnaby asked, “Do you have any insights at all into Moran’s business dealings?”
Southerly waggled his head. “Only in the most general sense. I know he dabbled—increasingly, I suspect—in highly questionable schemes. Extremely risky endeavors, at the very least. I quickly grew wary of his continuing involvement in such ventures, and as I so strongly disapproved of his uncaring attitude to family members’ financial situations, I long ago determined to exercise due prudence and keep my family as separate as possible from what went on at Moran House. ”
He paused, then amended, “Naturally, that distance didn’t apply to the dowager. I’ve always found her to be clear-headed and sensible about all matters to do with her social position and her family.”
Stokes had been scribbling in his notebook. He glanced at Southerly. “So, generally speaking, you avoided the earl but were happy to interact with the dowager.”
Southerly inclined his head.
The patter of heels on the hall tiles heralded Constance. Gowned in black, with her features drawn and tendrils of brown hair escaping to form a corona around her head, she hurried in, looking flustered and harried.
She waved at the men to remain seated and claimed the empty armchair beside her spouse.
“You will have to excuse my state. Such a panic we’ve had!
But it does seem that Theo is on the mend.
” She caught an inquiring look from Southerly and, lips setting, shook her head.
“That said, Theo is still being closemouthed. There’s obviously something he’s refusing to tell us that would account for him being poisoned, but I simply can’t imagine what it might be.
” She laid a hand on Southerly’s arm and met his gaze, then looked at Penelope.
“I left Vincent with Theo in the hope that Vincent, who is a year older and a touch more mature, might convince Theo to make a clean breast of whatever it is.”
Penelope nodded approvingly. “Let’s give Vincent a few minutes to see if he can accomplish that task. Meanwhile, if you would answer a few questions?”