“You got me out of bed,” she said, as her parents turned to face her. “Couldn’t it wait until tomorrow?”
“We have something to tell you,” Rodney began, but Daphne sprang to her feet.
“Let me tell her,” she said, the words more a command than a request.
Rodney turned away with an impatient flick of his head. “Very well. But be quick about it. That police chap will be here any second.”
Tess sent a startled look his way. “Police?”
“Tess . . .” Daphne approached her daughter and seized both her hands. “You must be brave, darling. It’s about Brian.”
Tess’s face froze. “Brian? What about him?”
“I’m afraid—” Daphne’s voice broke and she dipped her head.
Rodney grunted in exasperation, then said bluntly, “He’s dead.”
Daphne’s cry of protest was drowned out by Tess’s shocked howl. “No! I don’t believe you. He can’t be dead. I just saw him this afternoon. How can he be dead?”
“Someone stabbed him with a knife.” Rodney strode over to the young girl, who had begun to sob, and pushed his wife aside. Grasping Tess’s shoulders, he said more quietly, “I know this must be a shock to you, child, but you must pull yourself together. The constable wants to have a word with you, and you need your wits about you.”
“I don’t want to talk to anyone,” Tess sobbed. “I just want to go home.”
“I’m sure—” Elizabeth began, but once more she was interrupted by a tap on the door.
This time it was Violet who stood in the doorway. “I’m sorry, madam, but the constable insisted on coming right up.”
Elizabeth nodded at her housekeeper. “It’s all right, Violet. You may show the constable in.”
“Yes, madam.” Violet opened the door to allow the portly figure of George to pass through, then closed it behind him.
“Good evening, your ladyship,” George said, removing his helmet and tucking it under his arm.
Elizabeth got her feet and made the introductions. None of the Winterhalters were particularly gracious. Dahpne seemed bewildered, frightened, and out of her depth. Rodney’s face was carved in stone, while Tess continued to hiccup softly as sobs escaped her lips.
“Now, then, young lady,” George said, after licking the end of his pencil, “when was the last time you saw the deceased?”
Tears rolled down Tess’s face as she struggled to answer him. “This afternoon.”
“I understand,” George said pompously, “that you were arguing with the deceased shortly before his death.”
Tess cried louder and hunted in her pocket for a handkerchief. Daphne pulled one from her sleeve and handed it to her. “Here you are, darling. Just tell the policeman what he wants to know.”
“I told him I never wanted to see him again!” Tess howled. “I didn’t mean it!”
George scribbled on his notepad. “I see. And what prompted you to say that to him, might I ask?”
Tess appeared to make a valiant effort to control her weeping. “I found out he . . . he was with another woman at the Tudor Arms. She was in his
room
.” The last word rose on a wail of anguish.
“Always knew the miserable cad was no good,” Rodney muttered.
“Why didn’t you tell us, darling?” Daphne cried, obviously distressed.
“I didn’t want anyone else to know what a fool I’d been,” Tess managed, between sobs.
George went on scribbling some more. “So what happened when you told him you didn’t want to see him no more?”
“He was angry. I . . . ran away.”
“And he was alive when you left him?”
“I . . . I just wanted to get away from him.”
“Of course you did, dear,” Daphne said. She threw a protective arm about her daughter’s shoulders. “You can see the child has had a terrible shock,” she said, glaring at George. “Can’t this wait until tomorrow?”
“Just a couple more questions, madam, if you don’t mind.” George turned to Rodney. “When did you last see the deceased alive?”
“At the reception. I told him to leave. He was hanging around my daughter and making a blasted nuisance of himself.”
“I take it you had no liking for the deceased.”
Rodney uttered a bark of contempt. “I had no time for the rotter, no. He was harassing my daughter.”
“And you wanted to stop him doing that,” George said, busily writing.
Rodney’s face grew redder. “Yes, I did. That doesn’t mean I killed him.”
“No, sir, but it does mean you had a reason to want him out of the way, so to speak.” George lifted his head. “As did the young lady, apparently.” He snapped his notebook shut with an air of authority. “I must ask you all to stay in Sitting Marsh until the inspector can have a word with you. I’m putting you under house arrest on suspicion of being involved in a murder.”
CHAPTER 4
For a moment everyone was shocked into silence, then Tess wailed a protest, echoed by an exclamation from Daphne.
“George—” Elizabeth began, but the constable lifted his hand.
“Begging your pardon, your ladyship, but I must ask you to refrain from interfering in police business.”
Rodney uttered a snort of disgust. “Don’t be ridiculous, man. I have to get back to town. I have important business to take care of and I simply can’t sit around waiting for your infernal inspector to turn up. We are leaving first thing in the morning.”
George’s eyebrows drew together in a ferocious scowl. “May I remind you, sir, that you are addressing a member of the constabulary. I can and will take you into custody if you attempt to leave these premises.”
Rodney rolled his eyes, but to Elizabeth’s relief muttered, “Oh, very well. I suppose the hospital can manage without me for a few more hours. That’s if it’s convenient for her ladyship for us to stay.”
“Of course,” Elizabeth murmured.
“I thought you would see things my way,” George said, unsuccessfully hiding a smirk. “I’ll see myself out, your ladyship.” He moved to the door, pausing to wish everyone a good night before closing it behind him.
The silence in the room, broken only by a few sniffs from Tess, grew uncomfortable.
“I wouldn’t worry too much about George,” Elizabeth said, getting to her feet. “He tends to jump to conclusions, I’m afraid. I’m sure once the inspector gets here we can clear all this up quickly and you can be on your way. Though I’m afraid it will be more than a few hours. I’d say at least a day or two.”
Rodney lifted his hands in a gesture of defeat. “Not much we can do about it now, I suppose.”
Daphne sank onto her chair, her face creased in worry. “I’m afraid, Rodney. Things do look rather bad for you and Tess.”
“Nonsense,” Rodney said gruffly. “You heard what Lady Elizabeth said. The darn chap is jumping to conclusions.”
Daphne stared up at her husband. “Well, who else would want to kill Brian? No one but us knew him.”
“There was at least one other person,” Elizabeth said slowly.
All three Winterhalter’s stared at her. “Who?” Rodney demanded.
“The lady Mr. Sutcliffe took to his room.” She looked apologetically at Tess, who burst into tears again at this statement.
“Tell us who she was, darling,” Daphne said urgently. “It’s important that we talk to her. Perhaps she can shed some light on this.”
Tess’s garbled words, punctuated by her sobs, were unintelligible.
Daphne looked helplessly at Rodney, who muttered, “You’re not going to get anything out of her while she’s like that. Let her go to bed. We can talk in the morning.”
Tess struggled to control her weeping. “I s-said, I don’t know who she is.”
Rodney muttered something under his breath. “Well, that’s that, then.”
“No,” Daphne cried. “We have to find her and talk to her.”
“How did you know Mr. Sutcliffe had a woman in his room?” Elizabeth asked gently.
Tess’s answer was muffled, but Elizabeth caught one word.
“Sadie? Sadie told you?”
Tess nodded.
“I’ll have a word with her first thing in the morning,” Elizabeth said, wondering how on earth Sadie had managed to get herself involved in this mess.
Daphne immediately turned to her. “Oh, would you? I would feel so much better if I knew someone intelligent was looking into the matter. I don’t trust that constable. He doesn’t appear to be all that astute.”
“He does seem a little senile for the job,” Rodney commented.
Elizabeth sighed. “George, and his partner, Sid, were coaxed out of retirement to take the job, after our constables were called up for military service. I’m afraid they rather regret their circumstances, but they are stuck with it now until the war is over and our younger men return.”
“That doesn’t give him the excuse to accuse innocent people of murder then hold them against their will.” Rodney undid the sash of his smoking jacket and cinched it tighter around his waist. “I shall have a strong word of protest for the inspector when he gets here.”
“I should warn you,” Elizabeth said, as she crossed to the door, “the inspector is not at all like George. He’ll not take a case of murder lightly. I wouldn’t expect too much sympathy from him. On the contrary, in fact. He can be quite merciless at times.”
Rodney met her gaze without flinching, though Tess received this news with a wail of fright.
“In that case,” Rodney said evenly, “we shall just have to answer his questions as best we can.”
“Please, your ladyship,” Daphne whispered. “Please find out who did this.”
Elizabeth sighed. “I’ll do my best. That’s all I can promise.” She bade them all good-night and left, with the uneasy feeling that this time her best might not be quite good enough.
The next morning Elizabeth confronted Sadie at the breakfast table. Martin had already departed to carry out his “duties,” which normally consisted of a morning stroll around the grounds, followed by an inspection of the Great Hall, where he invariably insisted he encountered the late Earl of Wellsborough. After lunch, more often than not, he would retire to the library, from where he could reach the front door within a reasonable amount of time should a visitor summon him with the bell.
Violet was at the stove when Sadie made her appearance in the kitchen. Sunday was Polly’s day off, so Elizabeth was alone at the table when the housemaid sat down. She wasted no time in getting to the point.
“Tess tells me you informed her that her friend, Mr. Sutcliffe, entertained a young woman in his room at the Tudor Arms. Is that correct?”
A flush crept across Sadie’s cheeks, and she avoided Elizabeth’s gaze, pretending instead an avid interest in a piece of dry toast. “I know it was none of my business,” she mumbled, “but I thought she should know. I don’t like the look of that bloke, and if someone was double-crossing me like that I’d want someone to tell me.”
At the stove, Violet turned to send a scathing glare at Sadie. “When are you going to learn to mind your own business, Sadie Buttons? Don’t you know you cause more trouble by sticking your nose in where it’s not wanted?”
Sadie opened her mouth to argue, but Elizabeth forestalled her. “It’s all right, Violet. I just want to ask Sadie a few questions. I prefer that she answer honestly, so I’d rather you didn’t interfere.”
Violet rolled her eyes at the ceiling and turned her back on them again. The ferocity she used on the unfortunate saucepan in her hand, however, clearly demonstrated her resentment.
Elizabeth pushed a dish of margarine closer to Sadie. “How did you know Mr. Sutcliffe had someone in his room?”
“I saw her, didn’t I. See, I took Tess down the pub with me Thursday night ’cos she said she was bored, and the minute we gets inside she recognizes this bloke, Brian. She was really shocked to see him. He’d followed her down from Cambridge just to be with her. She told me her father hated him and didn’t want her seeing him. She was afraid Brian would turn up at the wedding and her dad would cause a big scene and throw him out.”
Elizabeth winced as Sadie smothered her toast with the margarine. She’d used half her ration on one slice of bread. “So when did you see this woman go into Mr. Sutcliffe’s room?”
“It were the next night. Tess had to go to a rehearsal for the wedding so I went to the Arms on me own. I was on me way to the loo and I saw this woman going up the stairs with Brian so I followed them. Tess is me friend, and I always look out for me friends.”
“Butt into their business, you mean,” Violet muttered.
Ignoring her, Sadie went on. “They were giggling and carrying on when they went inside and shut the door, so I knew they was up to no good.”
“Did you recognize the lady?”
Sadie made a sound of disgust. “That weren’t no lady, m’m. All done up like a tart, she was.”
“But did you recognize her?”
Sadie nodded, her mouth full of toast. “Not until the wedding, though,” she said, when she’d swallowed it down. “I didn’t know she was Prissy’s friend at the time or I might have said something to her.”
Elizabeth stared at her. “Fiona? Are you saying it was
Fiona
in that room with Mr. Sutcliffe?”
Sadie grinned. “Shocker, ain’t it. Could have blinking knocked me down with a feather when I saw her prancing down the aisle like Lady Muck. That’s when I thought I should tell Tess, seeing as how they were bridesmaids together. I was afraid she’d find out from the tart herself, and that would have been even nastier for her.”
“I see.” Elizabeth leaned back in her chair. She distinctly remembered Fiona saying that Priscilla didn’t know the victim. But Fiona didn’t mention the fact that she knew him, either. Then again, she probably wouldn’t want to advertise the fact that she’d visited the man in his room. Especially in front of Malcolm, who seemed to have a proprietary interest in her.
“I didn’t tell Tess before the wedding, of course,” Sadie said, reaching for her teacup. “I didn’t want them having it out with each other and spoiling everything for Wally and Priscilla. So I waited until we were at the reception before I said anything.”