A Death by Arson (16 page)

As one, Bertram and I backed out of the room. ‘Pregnant women say all sorts of things they do not mean,' I said gently. ‘She is overwrought.'

‘Walk in the grounds with me?' asked Bertram.

I stopped only to pick up my hat and coat before accompanying him outside. The air was as sharp as a knife against our skins, cold and bitter, but the noonday sun shone brightly. ‘Happy New Year,' said Bertram, and kissed me quickly on the cheek.

‘Good heavens,' I said. ‘I had quite forgotten. So this is 1913.'

‘Another year, another murder,' said Bertram gloomily. ‘My life certainly has changed since I met you, Euphemia.'

‘I wish you would stop saying that. It is much more to do with your brother than it is to do with me.'

‘Hmm,' said Bertram, extending a hand to help me over a particularly rough patch. ‘I suspect it is also that I didn't notice these things much before. I mean, if I'd tripped over a dead body I'm certain I would have said something like, “Look, a dead body!” and toddled off to telephone the police –'

‘Which is more than some members of the upper classes would do.'

‘Thank you, Euphemia. But, the thing is, after doing that I would not have given it any more thought. Unless, of course, it was someone I knew well. In which case, I would have felt rather sad.' His gaze fixed on the path before us and he sank into his thoughts. I left a silence between us for a while, and we walked on, admiring the magnificent and wild scenery that the Highlands spread before us. The castle grounds were nestled in a valley, or glen, as the Scotch call them, and on three sides mountains rose to snowy peaks, their sides dressed in an interwoven hoard of trees of every description. There was little in the way of formal gardens. Instead, the lawn and gravelled driveway gave way to fields. The land here was flat enough that we could make out the village huddled at the foot of a mountain in the distance. Between the castle and this lay fields of cattle: sheep, cows and goats, all puffing a heavy cloud of vapour into the cold air. I wondered what the beasts had made of the wedding procession. The ground was set hard under foot, so walking was easy enough.

I had no difficulty being silent with Bertram. We had grown easy in each other's company, but I could not help feeling guilty. Eventually I said, ‘I do understand what you mean. I had a conversation with Mary Hill earlier today that made me realise how very different I am to most women.' I then related our conversation. At the end of it, Bertram stopped and grabbed both my hands.

‘That's not what I meant at all. I do not regret how you have opened my eyes to the reality of justice. Or, should I say, the reality of the lack of justice in this world.' He let go of my hands to wipe his hand over his forehead. ‘For the life of me I cannot work out where it goes wrong. As children we are taught right from wrong, but then, as we emerge into adulthood, my class at least seems to believe it is somehow above these values we were taught to hold dear as children – simply because we have money and position. Before I met you, Euphemia, I never thought about it. I never even noticed and now I cannot stop noticing.'

I swallowed hard. Feelings came so swiftly I could barely name them. ‘I am glad, of course I am glad,' I said, ‘that you wish to strive against injustice, but I wonder how much of a good turn I have done you. In so many instances when we have come across wrongs those responsible have been left unpunished.'

‘But not always,' said Bertram. ‘I know in the scheme of things we are both but small creatures, but I think it is important that we strive to see that right is done. One man – or woman – campaigning may not be of significance alone, but with each person, each voice, strength is gathered. Justice calls us and we have heard. We can only hope that more and more will heed her voice and that one day we will be a land of the just.'

I thought this was getting a bit melodramatic, even for Bertram, who can be abnormally sensitive at times, but I could not mock his sentiments. Indeed, I found myself blinking back a tear or two at his sincerity.

‘But do you know what I really need now?' asked Bertram, with great seriousness.

‘What?'

‘A buttered muffin.'

I burst out laughing. Bertram grinned ruefully. ‘It's damnably cold out here, Euphemia, and a man must eat.'

We made our way back towards the house in much higher spirits than the occasion warranted. Bertram took my coat and handed it to a footman. ‘I would not concern yourself, Euphemia,' he said. ‘I think the Chief Inspector was merely trying to rattle you. I doubt he seriously entertains any thoughts that you might be responsible. I mean, anyone looking at you would know at once that you were not an arsonist. Besides, Hans, Richie and myself will all vouch for you.'

‘I am not so sure about Richenda,' I said.

‘Ah,' said Bertram with a sly grin. ‘The incident with the dress. She is making more of it than there was to – er –see.'

‘I would rather not discuss the matter,' I said stiffly. Bertram flashed me a grin and I shook my head at him. In good accord, we made our way back to the Mullers' suite. Bertram pulled a wary face at me, his hand on the latch. We listened for a moment and heard only a low murmur of voices. ‘Doesn't sound too heated,' he said. ‘I reckon Richie has either calmed down or gone to lie down.' He opened the door. We walked in to see Richenda rise to her feet and say, ‘You wish to interview my servants?' in outraged tones that would have done credit to a Duchess. Standing implacably in front of her was Chief Inspector Stewart.

‘If you do not object, ma'am,' he said. ‘And even if you do, I am afraid I must insist.'

‘Well, honestly!' said Richenda, turning to Hans for support.

Hans shrugged. ‘We only have two servants with us, Chief Inspector, a nursery maid, Mrs Susie Ellis, and my brother-in-law brought his servant, Mr Rory McLeod.' He spotted us behind Stewart. ‘You don't object to the police interrogating McLeod, do you, Bertram?' Then, without waiting for a response, he continued, ‘As you will have discovered, my other brother-in-law, Sir Richard, has a superfluity of servants, so it was quite unnecessary to bring them up from our estates. Things get to a ridiculous state when servants outnumber guests by more than five to one, wouldn't you agree, Chief Inspector?' Hans' tone was polite and amicable, but it was clear he was reminding the Chief Inspector that he was among his betters.

I had taken Stewart in some dislike, but I was impressed when he stood his ground and repeated his request. Hans pulled the bell. He also suggested Richenda retire. ‘My wife is expecting our first child and I do not wish her to be disturbed by this unfortunate incident. However, I am certain you will understand that Bertram and myself will stay while you speak with our people.' Richenda looked none too pleased at being dismissed. I did my best to melt into the background, so no one would suggest I, too, was removed from the room. However, the Chief Inspector knew how to play his cards and did not fruitlessly protest at witnesses to his interviews. Instead, when the servant arrived to carry the messages to Rory and Ellie, he merely asked that she also locate his sergeant and direct the man to join us.

Rory appeared first. ‘I understand you are a socialist with Bolshevik sympathies,' said the Chief Inspector before he was even halfway into the room.

‘Bloody Richard!' ejaculated Bertram. ‘That's where all this nonsense is coming from. Why is he trying to blame us for what happened?'

‘I am afraid that your brother loses rationality when angry,' replied Hans evenly.

Stewart looked between them, frowning. Rory spoke up, ‘I have, in the past, joined a form of socialist movement, sir. My membership was short lived. I was much younger and very much in love with a girl who was extremely keen on politics.'

‘Do you still see her?' asked the Chief Inspector.

‘I have no idea where she is and, truthfully, barely remember her name. I was not exactly thinking with my brain during my youth, sir!'

I caught Hans looking over at me to see if I was shocked. I decided to find the ceiling very interesting.

‘And the time you were arrested for murder?'

‘I was incarcerated in a kitchen cupboard for a short period of time and released when the real culprit was apprehended. If you wish for a character reference from outside this room you may approach the Earl of (here he mentioned a friend of my grandfather) for whom I butlered for a short time when his own man was indisposed, and with whom I have a standing invitation to return to his employ.'

‘You do? said Bertram, startled.

‘I do not like being played for a fool,' said the Chief Inspector darkly.

‘He is connected to the telephone system, as, I believe, is this castle. You can ring him or send a telegram. I am certain he will confirm what I have said.'

The Chief Inspector harrumphed into his moustache. Just then, his sergeant entered and he berated him, in language I will not repeat, for his tardiness.

‘Stewart! Ladies present!' cried Bertram.

The Chief Inspector appeared to notice me for the first time. ‘You should not be here,' he said.

‘I am staying to chaperone Miss Ellis,' I said, inspiration striking me so that I conveniently forgot she was
Mrs
Ellis.
²⁰

The Chief Inspector made another loud and unpleasant puffing noise. Then he commanded his sergeant to take Rory aside and get a short statement from him about his whereabouts during the time around the fire, while we waited for Ellie to appear.

By the time Ellie arrived, Rory had finished. He walked towards the door. ‘Not yet,' said the Chief Inspector sharply. ‘I want you and Miss Ellis to have a look at this and tell me if you recognise it. It was found on the burned body in the outbuilding.' I peered over his shoulder, struggling to make out the small object. It was a tie-pin with a horseshoe design, sooty from the fire, but a glint of gold shone through. There appeared to be a tiny diamond set at the bottom of the horseshoe. I edged in carefully, trying to see more clearly, when there was a heavy thud beside me. I turned to find that at the sight of the tie-pin Ellie had dropped into a dead faint.

 

²⁰
Of course, a married woman would not have needed a chaperone.

Chapter Twenty-four
A remarkable confession

Immediately there was a commotion, as there can be only when a room full of men find themselves with a fainting female.
²¹
The sergeant, being the most practical of the lot, removed the flowers from a vase on the mantelpiece and dashed the water in the unfortunate maid's face. She came round coughing and spluttering. I knelt down beside her and helped her to her feet. Hans rose from the sofa and together we laid her out on it. I heard Rory mutter to Bertram, ‘That looked like the real thing.'

Stewart grunted and huffed and swore at his sergeant. Then he turned his attention to Ellie. ‘That was an extraordinary reaction, Miss Ellis. Can you explain yourself?'

‘I say, Chief Inspector!' protested Bertram.

‘The girl is not herself,' said Hans.

Rory said nothing. I waited to see how Ellie would react. She fluttered her damp lashes. Tears began to course silently down her face and her breath caught in sobs.

‘Miss Ellis, I must press you,' said Stewart.

Bertram burst out in protest again.
²²
Rory and I exchanged glances.

Eventually the girl got control of herself. ‘It is nothing,' she said. ‘I am very silly, but you did say this was found on a dead man. A man burned alive.' She shivered. ‘You will think me superstitious, but I am a little afraid of such an unlucky object.'

‘More unlucky for the chap who wore it,' muttered Rory under his breath. I sneaked a side on glance at his face. He was frowning and not looking particularly sympathetic. Rory is an excellent reader of character and I knew he had had qualms about Ellie from the start, but would a woman set a fire? It would be an easier way for her to kill than attempting to stick a knife into a man, but why would she do it? We had brought her up from England. Could she know anyone up here? I realised we knew very little about Ellie. While the men hovered uncertainly around her, I tiptoed out of the room and made my way down to the room where I knew the telephonic apparatus to be. I hated the things, but I needed to speak to Hans' butler, Stone. With luck, I would be able to find that nice footman, Rupert, to help me.

I returned a little time later having given Stone my instructions, which he had been somewhat reluctant to carry out. It had taken all my persuasive skills to get him to act. The scene in the room I had left had changed. Ellie was gone. Hans was absent, but now Richenda had rejoined us. But, most startling of all, Mrs Lewis stood in the middle of the room, obviously in mid-appeal to the others.

Hans nodded at me to come into the room. The housekeeper continued.

‘I need your help,' said Mrs Lewis, her craggy features as pitiful as any gargoyle's in my late father's church. ‘It's true. I was here when it happened.'

‘Good God!' exclaimed Bertram. ‘And Stapleford still hired you?'

‘Don't be dense, man,' said Rory, with an extreme lack of regard for his employer's status. ‘You never told him, did you?'

‘No,' said Mrs Lewis, and, to my shock, she burst into tears. ‘This accursed place,' she said. ‘It brings nothing but unhappiness.'

‘You have been accused? For once,' I said, ‘it would have been nice to attend a party without complications.'

‘Then you should not have come to work for my family,' said my employer Richenda Muller. She then burped loudly, and sat down. ‘Sorry all,' she said without a blush, ‘that just keeps happening.' And then she did something no lady ever should do, as her nether regions echoed her previous respiratory efforts. Instead of rushing from the room in shame, Richenda laughed loudly. But then what can you expect of a woman whose best friend until her marriage was a horse?