Vivian Conroy - Diamonds of Death

The woman’s expression changed at once, from warmth and welcome to fear. ‘I do not think it possible, my lady. The new Lady Winters is very stern; she doesn’t like staff engaging with the guests.’

There was a sound in the hallway, and she shot back, curtsying nervously. ‘Thank you, my lady.’

She retreated in a rush to the door, almost bumping into the dark handsome woman who came back in. ‘Have you poured?’ Helena snapped at the servant.

‘No, but…’ The woman swallowed hard.

Alkmene jumped to her feet. ‘I said I would do it. I enjoy puttering with tea stuff.’ As she said it, she realized how ridiculous it was to act like hostess in this strange house and how she would not endear herself to the other woman by this approach. Barge in, act like she belonged here. While Helena now ‘owned it all’ as the housekeeper had aptly put it.

But Alkmene didn’t want the housekeeper to feel bad about her faux pas. If she had known her mother’s half-sister and had even seen photographs of her mother shown by this half-sister, she wanted to know more about that.

Her hostess came closer with short abrupt steps. ‘I will do it. You must be tired from your journey. You had better sit.’

It sounded like she was instructing a dog.

Alkmene sank back and folded her hands in her lap. ‘Lord Winters’ death must have come as quite a shock to you. I mean, it being so sudden and…violent. I believe he was killed in a burglary?’

‘Yes. I actually saw it happen.’

‘The murder?’ Alkmene cried. Dismay knotted her stomach. Jake had forgotten to mention to her that there was an actual eyewitness for the killing. That would make proving his friend’s innocence kind of hard.

Her hostess said, ‘I saw that dreadful man leaning over my father-in-law, his gloved hands full of blood. It was horrible to see. I was so glad there were able men here who could jump him and control him before he killed me too.’

‘You came upon the scene because you had heard noise?’

‘I saw light under the door and wanted to ask if Lord Winters needed anything.’

‘In the dead of night?’ Alkmene caught her own incredulous tone and added quickly, ‘The papers I read must have had the time of the killing wrong then. It was earlier, in the evening?’

Her hostess fussed with the teapot. ‘No, it was late, but we had had guests who had only left an hour before that. I was still awake. I have trouble sleeping sometimes when it has been an exciting day.’

Again there was this odd change from the woman in charge to a little girl talking, in a wistful tone. ‘I came from the library where I had picked up a book to read.’

‘I thought Lord Winters had died in the library.’

‘No, he had books in that room, but it was more like his private study. The library is another room, for the use of everyone in the household. It holds some precious first editions. You might like to see them later on. If you like books. Do you take sugar in your tea? Cream?’

‘Neither, thank you.’ To continue talk of the murder, Alkmene hurried to say, ‘I like books very much, thank you. So you came from the library and saw this light under the door of Lord Winters’ private study and naturally you knocked to ask if anything was…wanted.’

The woman sighed as she spooned sugar into her own cup. ‘I opened the door and there was this man, leaning over the body of my father-in-law. The blood and… It was terrible. But at least he was caught before he could leave. He will pay for what he did.’

Alkmene hesitated. ‘If you did not see the burglar killing your father-in-law, how can you be sure he actually killed him?’

Helena’s eyes flashed a moment with a strange light. ‘What else could have happened? The police have gotten out of him how he entered via the front of the house. He actually climbed up like a monkey and forced his way in through a window. He then killed my father-in-law who caught him red-handed.’

Alkmene said pensively, ‘If he climbed up, he must have noticed somebody was in the room. Why take the chances and commit murder?’

‘I assume the room was empty when he came in. My father-in-law must have walked in on him.’

‘I suppose so,’ Alkmene said. ‘How fortunate you did not pass the door earlier and were the one to walk in on the burglar.’

Again there was that flash in Helena’s eyes. She picked up Alkmene’s cup. ‘It will take me time to get over it. Get over living in this house after what happened. I never liked it much to begin with. It is so grey and solemn.’

Alkmene looked around. ‘I think it is a very grand old house.’

‘Perhaps you think there is something in the will for you?’ Helena looked her over with cold eyes. ‘That is why you are here?’

Trying to ignore her intimidating attitude, Alkmene leaned back. ‘I have no need of any inheritance. I have money of my own.’

She put a slight emphasis on the word I , implying a subtle contrast with the woman opposite to her.

Her hostess was now right in front of her, holding out the cup of tea on a saucer to her. ‘There you go.’

Then by a sudden movement she let the cup slip off the saucer and spilled the hot tea right across Alkmene’s lap.

Alkmene yelped as the hot liquid scorched her skin. She jumped to her feet and peeled the fabric of her skirt away from her legs. It still burned awfully.

‘I am so sorry,’ Helena said. ‘I will get you a cloth.’ In a flurry of cold air she quit the room.

Alkmene held the soaked garment away from her person. A haze actually came from it, so hot the water had been. She was sure Helena had dropped the tea on purpose, trying to hurt her. Had it just been a response to her subtle reference to the difference between the two of them in terms of position and wealth – born into it or having married into it – or had the woman already decided on this course of action before? From the moment the butler had announced to her who this guest was.

An unwanted guest it seemed.

Alkmene walked to the door, determined to go up to the blue room and change at once. She’d think about getting the tea stains out later.

A hysterical voice said, ‘She is despicable turning up here, like she owns the house. I am sure she thinks she will have it now. She claims to be related to your mother. Always her, always your mother.’

Then a stream of foreign words followed, punctuated by gasps for air.

Alkmene looked into the hallway. A dark-haired thickset man stood opposite to Helena, holding her by the shoulders. He shook her while she raved on, her head moving from side to side like she was in a frenzy.

Then he raised his hand and struck Helena full in the face.

She fell silent at once. Only her eyes stayed alive, on fire, burning at him with an intensity that made Alkmene cringe. She had rarely seen such raw hatred in a human’s eyes. It was more the murderous feeling of a tiger when it looks its captor in the eye, determined to get back at him someday and kill him in order to be free again.

Helena pulled herself free and ran up the stairs, almost bumping into Jake Dubois, who was coming down. The man standing below frowned at him. ‘Who are you?’

‘Lady Alkmene’s driver, sir.’

‘Sir?’ The man scoffed. ‘That is Lord Winters to you, chap. Get yourself to the kitchens and don’t dare show your face around here again.’

Lord Winters turned away from Jake to the room Alkmene was in. She retreated quickly so he found her standing close to the piano, still holding her wet skirt.

‘Ah, Lady Alkmene…’ He wanted to smile at her, but his features froze as he saw her awkward stance. ‘Is something wrong?’

‘Lady Winters spilled tea over me and went to fetch a cloth.’ Alkmene smiled. ‘Lord Winters, I presume?’