T Kinsey - A Quiet Life in the Country (A Lady Hardcastle Mystery Book 1)

‘Ah, I see what you’re getting at,’ said the inspector. ‘What a clever idea.’

I wasn’t yet certain what the idea was, but I chose to keep my befuddlement to myself.

‘Now Clarissa, mindful of her mother’s phobia, doesn’t wear a wristwatch. It also happens that she thinks them rather vulgar,’ said Lady Hardcastle, looking at her own watch. ‘But she has a marvellous memory for tunes, and between us we managed to piece the events together using the songs to mark the passing of time.’

Aha, I thought, actually that was rather clever.

Lady Hardcastle continued. ‘Now, the early part of the evening proceeded much as it might at any other party. People arrived, drinks were served, guests mingled, circulated, chatted, and congratulated the happy couple. And the band played. They were all on stage together until they reached this song,’ she said, tapping the set list. ‘This is “Standing Room Only” and is an instrumental number, which meant that the singer Sylvia Montgomery – I’m sorry, Olive Sewell – wasn’t required. She left the stage and, by her own testimony, went off to the library.’ She drew a little circle in the library with the letters OS in it. ‘Sewell spent a few minutes in the library and then left, whereupon she met Flo in the corridor.’

I nodded.

‘They parted company and Sewell returned to the ballroom.’ She rubbed out the OS circle in the library and redrew it in the ballroom. ‘Flo continued with her errand in the servants’ section of the house, and when she returned, she thought she caught a glimpse of someone else going into the library. She couldn’t be certain, though, and had no idea who it might have been. She couldn’t even be sure if there had been someone there at all. During the next song . . .’ – she tapped the set list again – ‘. . . “The Richman Rag”, Clarissa noticed Captain Summers leave the ballroom. We don’t know where he went, but from his own account of events we know that he ransacked the instrument cases at some point during the evening. He claims that Holloway wasn’t there when he did, so it seems probable that he went to the library. He might well have been the person that Flo saw going in there.’

‘It goes some way to corroborating his story, certainly,’ said Inspector Sunderland.

‘When “The Richman Rag” ends, the band take their well-earned break, and Wallace Holloway goes off to the library, ostensibly to retrieve a bottle of Scotch that he had hidden among his things, but actually to check that the emerald was safely stowed in his trumpet case.’

‘And when he got there, he discovered either Summers or an empty case.’

‘Exactly so,’ she said. ‘At about this time, Clifford Haddock left the ballroom, followed a short while later by Richman, presumably to confer and check that their felonious endeavours were proceeding as planned. Haddock went straight to the bathroom, believing he had time before the planned rendezvous. He was delayed, leaving Richman waiting for him outside the library. Richman thought that something had gone wrong and abandoned the meeting.’

She drew a series of lines on the plan, indicating Haddock going upstairs in search of the bathroom, Richman waiting outside the library, Richman returning to the ballroom and Haddock coming back downstairs.

‘At this point,’ she continued, ‘Haddock found that Richman wasn’t where he expected him to be, so he decided to check whether he had gone into the library. He went in, just as someone came out through the other door.’

She drew a new line showing the missing guest leaving the room.

‘The chaos Haddock saw in the library shocked him. The instrument cases stored there by the band had been ransacked and there were signs of a struggle. He left the library and then he, too, returned to the ballroom. His arrival was, again, noticed by Clarissa during the first song of the second set, “An Angel Fell”. The band was without Holloway at this point but while some people noticed a slight change in the sound, few noticed the absence of the trumpeter.’

‘It looks very black against Summers,’ said the inspector, thoughtfully.

‘It does rather, doesn’t it? By his own account, he fled when he heard someone else coming in, and from the sequence you’ve constructed there, it seems probable that it was Holloway. So it’s just as likely that instead of fleeing as he says, he was caught midrummage by Holloway. They struggled. He clouted Holloway with the trumpet case then legged it into the hall where he hid the murder weapon in the cabinet.’

‘Perhaps the fingerprints will tell us,’ I suggested.

‘They might at that,’ said the inspector. ‘I’ll make certain the trumpet case goes into town with Olive Sewell. I ought to make a few notes about this timing idea of yours, too, my lady. This really is most excellent work.’

He began writing in his ever present notebook and Lady Hardcastle was just about to ring for some coffee when there was a knock at the door and Dewi the footman came in.

‘Begging your pardon, sir, but there was a telephone call for you,’ he said. ‘Gentleman couldn’t stay on the line so he asked me to say . . .’ He screwed up his face in concentration, trying to remember the exact words. ‘Tell the inspector that Superintention Wickham has been delayed at Swindon by a fallen tree on the line and has had to return to London. Hold Sewell locally until someone from the Met can pick her up.’

‘Thank you . . . Doughy, is it?’ said the inspector.

‘Close enough, sir,’ said the young man, followed by some rather harsh words under his breath in his native Welsh.

‘Watch your tongue, lad,’ I said in the same language. ‘You never know who might be listening.’

He blushed crimson. ‘Sorry, miss.’

‘Right,’ said the inspector. ‘Can you please find Sergeant Dobson and ask him to bring Miss Montgomery to me.’

‘Yes, sir. Right away, sir.’

He hurried out.

‘What was all that about?’ asked the inspector.

‘He cast doubt on your parentage, suggested what he imagined your mother did for a living, and then expressed his contempt for the English in general.’

‘The cheeky little beggar,’ he said, slightly hurt. ‘My mother was a schoolteacher.’

‘It’s just his little act of rebellion, Inspector. Like a safety valve on a steam engine.’

‘I understand that, miss. But, I mean. Really.’

A few minutes later there was yet another knock at the door and a very flustered Sergeant Dobson peered in.

‘Ah, Dobson, good man,’ said the inspector. ‘There’s been a slight change of plan and I’m going to need you to take Miss Montgomery to the police station after all.’

‘Ah, now, see, I’ve got some bad news on that score, sir.’

‘What sort of bad news?’

‘It’s the lady, sir. She’s . . . ah . . . she’s done a bunk, sir.’

‘Oh, for the love of—’

‘I’m most dreadfully sorry, sir.’

‘How, sergeant?’

‘Well, Sir Hector let us use one of the empty bedrooms upstairs, sir. So we was up there and she starts fidgeting with her . . . with her underthings, and she says, “Sorry, Sergeant, but my corsets seem to have got a bit twisted. Would you mind popping outside while I straighten myself out? Just for a minute, there’s a love.” So I did. I went out and sat on a chair on the landing, like.’

‘How long did you leave her?’

‘She was ages, sir. A good few minutes.’

‘And you didn’t think to check what she was up to?’

‘Well, no, sir. Not at first. She was . . . you know . . . she was . . . rearranging herself.’

The inspector sighed.

‘But after a few minutes I did knock on the door, but there was no answer,’ said the sergeant.