Peter Lovesey - Mad Hatter

‘I remember that,’ said Moscrop.

‘That would be after Bridget had left you, would it?’ asked Cribb, suddenly addressing a question to him.

‘Er-yes. I had given her the formula and I was starting to return along the front. I don’t believe I saw all of the display.’

‘So Bridget came back to you while the fireworks were still on?’ said Cribb, switching back to Zena.

‘Yes, and then I gave her the rest of the evening off, to watch the display. She was most excited about the skyrockets. I was not left alone, you see. I had Guy with me throughout the evening. We watched from my bedroom window. Guy stood on the balcony for a time.’

‘I saw him there,’ said Moscrop helpfully.

‘How long did the display continue after Bridget went out again?’ asked Cribb.

‘Oh God! You do ask some questions! Let me see. Half an hour, at least.’

‘Then you went to bed?’

‘No, I played cards with Guy for an hour. I’ve taught the little fiend to play cribbage. We don’t have much in common, but we can at least amuse ourselves with a pack of cards. It must have been after eleven when we finally retired.’

‘Had Bridget returned by then?’

‘Good gracious, I couldn’t tell you. She slept in Jason’s room, you see, and would have entered by the door from the corridor. I can’t remember hearing her come in, now that you ask me.’

‘But the walls were thin enough for you to hear a sound from the nursery?’

‘Oh, yes. There was a connecting door. I must have been asleep when she got back, the hussy, but I suppose a holiday is a holiday for the domestics too, if one looks at it from their point of view.’

‘Now what about your husband, Ma’am?’ said Cribb. ‘What time did he return?’

‘Prothero? God knows, darling. He was there in the morning and that’s all I recollect. Have I helped you?’

‘Substantially.’

She stood up. ‘That’s a weight off my mind, then. I’d hate to feel that I was hindering Scotland Yard in the execution of its duty. It’s rather stuffy down here, don’t you think? I wonder if it’s safe to take a turn on the deck? If I could know for certain that Prothero is not on the pier-‘ ‘I’ll go and see,’ volunteered Moscrop.

‘You will? What a divinely generous man you are! Then if the sergeant escorts me-just on the seaward side for a few minutes-no one can think I’ve sold myself to perdition.’

The sight of Cribb’s six foot one inch gallantly taking the air with Zena Prothero’s five foot two was witnessed only by the seagulls, Moscrop very decently having mounted guard at the bulwarks on the port side.

‘What do you think of him, darling?’ she asked at once.

‘Who, Ma’am?’ He seemed to be addressing the top of her hat.

‘Mr. Moscrop. Who else?’

‘I’m not sure,’ said Cribb, truthfully. ‘What’s your opinion?’

‘Not to be relied upon, my dear. Harmless enough, I’m sure, but distinctly odd in his behaviour. I haven’t said a word to Prothero, but he follows me around! You don’t think I encourage him, darling, do you?’

‘I’m sure you don’t mean to, Ma’am, but he appears to have led a somewhat sheltered existence. I don’t think he understands much about the ways of the ladies.’

‘Lord, you’re right! He regards us all as racehorses, things to be watched through field-glasses. I only asked him to take the sleeping preparation to the chemist to give him something useful to do.’

‘You weren’t worried about what you were taking, then?’

‘Worried isn’t the word, darling. Curious, perhaps. Yes, I was curious. Prothero isn’t communicative, you see. It was a harmless errand to send the poor little man on. He must have been disappointed on Saturday night when Bridget came down to collect the chemist’s report, poor lamb, but I had no choice, as I explained.’

Cribb stopped and put his hands on the side-rail. ‘Well, if it achieved nothing else, Ma’am, at least you now know what your husband mixes for you. A dose of laudanum as mild as that wouldn’t hurt a child, let alone a grown woman.’

She looked keenly at him. ‘But, of course. Prothero is a doctor, darling. He knows about these things.’

They resumed their walk, Zena supporting her hat-brim as the breeze stiffened.

‘I don’t know whether you’ve read anything in the newspapers about the tragedy I’m in Brighton to investigate, Ma’am?’

‘Very little, I must confess,’ said Zena. ‘ The Morning Post had only a small paragraph. I don’t believe it mentioned your name, even.’

‘It was the Brighton newspapers that gave the fullest accounts, quite naturally. You won’t have read about the jacket that was dug up on the beach, then?’

‘Jacket? I don’t believe I did.’

‘Black sealskin. A coat of good quality. Better than the other clothes we found. I heard that you owned such a jacket, Ma’am. Is that correct?’

‘Why, yes. I do.’

Cribb nodded. ‘You see how we connected the tragedy with you?’

‘I suppose so,’ Zena said. ‘But dozens of women own sealskin jackets. They’re fashionable, darling.’

‘Not so many have a top button that’s had to be sewn back on with different cotton. Yours has, I understand.’

She frowned. ‘As a matter of fact, that is true. But I don’t see-‘

‘And did you buy yours last spring at Fremantle’s of Dorking?’

‘My dear, I did, but what are you trying to prove?’

‘That’s where the jacket on the beach came from,’ said Cribb grimly. ‘Do you have yours at home, Ma’am?’

‘I don’t believe I do. I left it with some other things at the Albemarle. Prothero will bring it home on Saturday.’

‘With respect, I don’t think so.’

She stopped and looked up at him. ‘What do you mean? Are you telling me that my coat-‘

‘Is the one we found? Yes, Ma’am. I’ll get you to identify it later, of course, but I’m no longer in any doubt about it. The dead woman was wearing your sealskin jacket last Saturday night.’

Zena was shaking her head. ‘It’s quite impossible.’

Cribb took her arm. ‘Not at all, my dear. You know as well as I do that it was your servant, Bridget, who was murdered.’

Silence, while she assimilated what Cribb had said.

‘It’s not unknown for a servant to borrow something from the family wardrobe,’ he went on. ‘Smart jacket. Fashionable, you say. Mistress asleep.’

‘Who said I was asleep?’ demanded Zena.

‘It’s the only explanation. Shall we look at what you’ve already told me? Jason was so fretful that you decided to go back to Dorking with him on Sunday, bringing your holiday to a premature end.’

‘Absolutely true.’

‘Pains in his stomach, you decided. Poor little fellow must have suffered something dreadful for you to abandon your husband like that. When did the crying start?’

‘Heavens, I can’t remember that.’

‘It was bad on Saturday, though?’

‘Yes, I haven’t denied it.’

‘Yet you tell me that you spent the evening watching fireworks and playing cards and that after Bridget had been down to get the formula from Mr. Moscrop you gave her the evening off.’

She coloured. ‘The child was quieter by then.’

Cribb shook his head slowly. ‘With rockets and Chinese crackers going off underneath his window? I can’t believe that, Ma’am. It makes no sense and I’ll not embarrass you any more by persisting with the point. I think Jason was asleep, as a matter of fact. Bridget had given him a dose of your sleeping-draught.’

‘The laudanum!’ Zena was wide-eyed with horror. ‘She fed that to a tiny child!’

Cribb scratched the tip of his nose. ‘I must confess that I misled you there, Ma’am. The sleeping-potion wasn’t laudanum, as Mr. Moscrop will confirm. I needed to know if you had ever seen the chemist’s analysis. It’s obvious you hadn’t. We found it on the beach, you see, near the sealskin jacket and the-er-other items. Bridget still had it with her, tucked up her sleeve, I dare say, or wherever ladies tuck such things. It’s chloral you’ve been taking, if you’re still interested. Relatively harmless. You took it as usual on Saturday, didn’t you, leaving Bridget to deal with Mr. Moscrop? You didn’t realise that when you were unconscious she’d come back from seeing Moscrop, borrow your jacket and probably give Jason a spoonful of chloral to assist his slumbers before going out to enjoy herself-as she thought. We know what happened to her.’