Mason was dealing with our soaked and muddy garments as if it was an everyday request, absolutely not even hinting that he would love to know how we had got into such a mess. He undertook to find replacement clothes for Davies until his uniform trousers could be worn again. The tunic might be damp, but Davies would not be separated from it.
Clean and dry, I ran down to the sewing room to find it locked. Billy very discreetly believed that Harriet and the Colonel might be outside with Lord Webbe and Mr Forsyth. Asking him to tell the Constable and Turton where we were, I went into the garden. I was greeted by the sound of Harriet’s laughter – the first time I had heard it in public since we had arrived here. Even Barrington, perched on a shooting stick, looked if not happy then at least contented.
Glancing at me, Harriet passed the ball quietly to Webbe. ‘I think I have work to do – unless you want to bowl just one ball for the pleasure of it?’ she asked me.
‘I’d love to. And I believe there is time for you to, as well.’
Strangely Barrington would not accept her refusal. I bowled as I usually did, troubling but not bowling either young man. She, as calm as if she were reaching to pick a flower, flighted the ball slowly and gently. Webbe looked to hoick it over the rooftop. It bowled him. Forsyth, who could barely stop giggling, was more circumspect – but his shot sent the ball ballooning into Barrington’s hands. He did not have to move an inch. With an appraising nod he threw it back to Harriet.
‘I know from Matthew’s face that there is news, but I have to see if I can work out what you’re doing.’ Staggering to his feet, he commandeered Forsyth’s bat.
How would she react? Would she risk irritating him by bowling him out? Or would she be circumspect, and let him off her tantalizing hook?
I caught him out.
‘No, no! She has to do it three times, like at the match!’ the boys insisted.
She obliged, though it took four more balls to do it. Or perhaps she was being tactful.
To my delight Barrington was still applauding her as he led the way back to the sewing room, where he insisted on regaling Turton, spruce in a summer suit, and Davies, dressed in a footman’s trousers four inches too short in the leg for him, with the story. He even laughed when he realized that Davies had needed to borrow carpet slippers.
‘Dear me!’ Barrington chuckled. ‘What a morning, eh, Cousin Harriet? All that fuss and palaver earlier and then you take me right back to my boyhood! I think we deserve a cup of coffee after all that exertion, don’t you? Then we can give proper attention to what these gentlemen have to tell us.’ He rang. Billy came and went.
Fuss and palaver? What had been going on? Harriet personified silent female docility as she took her seat opposite him, something that clearly signified something had been going on – and, I suspected, more than just a display of clever bowling. Were his words a euphemism for sharp words between them?
The silence grew. At last the coffee appeared. Hands loosely clasped in her lap, Harriet let Billy serve everyone. She was making a point, wasn’t she?
At last, Barrington said expansively, ‘Now, Constable, I can see that you and the gentlemen have been engaged in something. Can you tell us what?’
‘Sir, we went to the bridge. The water had dropped allowing us to see things we could not have seen before. Amongst them was this.’ He produced the hammer. ‘We have no means of knowing if this was the weapon that struck Mr Biddlestone – it’s just as likely to have been used to knock out some of the brickwork – but it seemed to us that Dr Highworth might have an opinion.’
‘Good man. Well spotted. But obviously you all got wet. To what end?’
‘We found other things, sir,’ Davies said doubtfully, frowning slightly at the awkwardness of the question. ‘Very sharp eyes, Mr Turton has.’
Turton didn’t argue. Silently he unwrapped his handkerchief to reveal the treasure that we suspected might have come from a rich woman’s neck.
Barrington peered at it, but shook his head. ‘What do you make of it, Cousin Harriet?’
‘I don’t recognize it: I only saw one of her outfits, and those gorgeous emeralds would not have matched it. But there is someone who might identify it. If she can bear to look at it, that is. Young Clara, who, you’ll recall, acted as her dresser while she was here.’
‘Still working with Mrs Simpkins, is she? I’ll get someone to fetch her here now!’ He reached for the bell.
Harriet shook her head. ‘With respect, Cousin, I think she’d be scared out of her wits; she’s not used to lovely rooms like this, and she’s terrified of men at the moment. Might Constable Davies go down to the servants’ hall? He could watch from a distance while Mrs Simpkiss and I ask her about it?’
Davies nodded enthusiastically, Barrington much less so. ‘I need to give that some thought.’ He sipped the rest of his coffee.
Meanwhile I dug in my own pocket. ‘It’s not working after its immersion but this is a very fine gentleman’s watch. Not the sort a fashionable lady or a butler would sport.’
‘God bless my soul! You found that in the stream?’
‘Eyes like a sparrowhawk’s, Mr Turton’s. I reckon we might find more things as the waters drop. There were a few odds and ends of wood that might have come from a jewellery box if the flood smashed it against rocks and stones. Assuming it was the flood, and not a human hand. Now, sir, we did wonder if we – if you – might offer a reward for any villagers bringing me any other treasures. Once word gets out there’s rich pickings there, you can bet your life folk’ll be tempted. And a reward might help them … to be a bit more honest, might I say?’
‘As to how much,’ I added, ‘I think we should take Constable Davies’ advice – he will know best what would be attractive enough to people to stop them selling finds to pedlars and so on. And I think Harriet’s idea is a good one. Clara’s a shy little thing at best. Even just being asked will be terrifying enough for her.’ I spoke as sincerely as I could: I would dearly have loved to be present when she was questioned.
‘Hm. Now, this reward business: what are you expecting to be found, Davies?’
‘Who knows? That watch was a surprise. So anything and nothing, I think it’s fair to say.’
Knocking discreetly, Mason opened the door a crack. ‘Beg pardon, Colonel, but her ladyship craves a word in her private sitting room.’
‘Better see what she wants. I’ll return as soon as I can. And remember, all of you, be prepared. Lock the door if you’re alone. Lock it if you’re the last to leave.’
‘What was all that about?’ I asked the moment the door closed.
‘I had to explain why you … why I … felt I needed protection. He was in a really strange mood this morning. One moment he was accusing me of stealing books from the library, next he was hoping to poach you to run the estate. And then the cricket. Was he always as changeable as this?’
‘I know he’s my cousin but we’ve never been close. You probably know him better than I do, Turton. And you, from a different perspective, Davies?’
Davies shifted in his borrowed slippers. ‘I hardly like to say – I mean, it’s not my place, is it?’
‘Strong man with weaknesses, as you can see when that bastard Jameson manipulates him,’ Turton said. ‘And the pain makes him tetchy. Very changeable. Can’t blame him for that when his back’s bad. But when he’s well he’s a decent man. Very decent.’
Davies nodded agreement.
‘Perhaps something else is troubling him,’ Harriet mused, as gently as when she was preparing to bowl. ‘Did the papers I retrieved last night throw any light on anything, Constable Davies?’
It must have been hard to be dignified when you were wearing someone else’s trousers and slippers, but Davies did his best. ‘Ma’am, I really think they ought to be confidential. For the time being at least. Dear me, I wish the Colonel had given permission for me – for you, ma’am! – to speak to Clara.’ He looked at his watch and then at the clock. ‘Time is going on, and as sure as eggs are eggs some of the guests are going to leave, whatever I say or do.’
‘He didn’t say no, did he?’ Turton said.
‘He certainly didn’t say yes,’ Davies snapped. ‘All the same, I’ve a good mind to—’
Loud voices in the corridor interrupted him. The door burst open.
‘There you all are!’
‘Good morning, Jameson,’ I said, stepping forward and blocking his way. ‘How may I help? Or, since you’ve gone to the trouble of coming to the Colonel’s headquarters, can I assume you have come to help us? That you have information that will help Constable Davies solve a particularly difficult case?’
He snorted. ‘What, are you Verges to his Dogberry?’
Harriet’s eyebrows shot up at the allusion; I must ask her why later. Meanwhile behind me, there was movement – with luck Davies covering up our morning’s finds. And sitting down, of course, to hide his chaotic clothing. In fact, he sounded and looked quite magisterial as he said, ‘Good morning – Major Jameson, isn’t it? I was hoping to speak to you today.’
‘Why, might I ask?’
‘The reason I wish to speak to everyone: two terrible deaths have occurred and it is my duty to find who is responsible.’
‘You! And this motley crew. Including her! My God, are we supposed to speak to servants and yokels?’
‘I believe a gentleman is supposed to be polite to whoever he speaks. And to obey the laws of the land, which include assisting the police,’ I said firmly, hoping my voice drowned the very slight click as the door handle turned.
‘I am not speaking in front of that—’ He jabbed a finger in Harriet’s direction.
From behind him came an outraged intake of breath at the epithet he used. But Barrington was letting me deal with this.
‘Nor will you have to, especially if you persist in your insolence. You will apologize now.’
He mumbled something.
‘In fact, you will have to wait anyway. My wife and Constable Davies are just about to interview another witness. If you agree a time with the constable, I am sure he can arrange for the Colonel to be present.’
Davies reacted wonderfully. ‘Two, shall we say, Major? If that suits the Colonel, that is. Oh, sir!’ He half-rose as Barrington stepped forward.
‘It does indeed,’ Barrington declared, seating himself stiffly. ‘My study. No. Two-thirty is better for me. Two-thirty. Prompt. And now, if you will excuse us?’ He did not stand. He simply watched and waited.
Red to the ears, Major Jameson withdrew.
‘Insolent puppy!’ Barrington nodded grimly. ‘You did very well there, Davies. And you, too, Matthew. Harriet, my dear, I did not believe my ears. A decent officer using language like that! God bless my soul! How dared he! Is that how he behaved in the library yesterday? And yet you can smile?’
‘Dear Cousin, I am actually amused – admittedly in a very dark way. When Lady Pidgeon and I were leaving the library yesterday, I hoped – aloud – that the village constable would not be a Dogberry. And the wretched Major quoted me! Constable Davies, I apologize to you.’
‘This Dogberry would be a yokel, I take it,’ he supplied, staring at some point over her head.
‘Countryman you may be, Constable, but yokel you are not. We all respect you and are proud to know you – and,’ she continued, smiling broadly, equal to equal, ‘you had the sense not to stand up wearing the wrong trousers!’
To Davies’ blushes, Turton and I applauded. So did Barrington. This was a man who had appeared so completely under Jameson’s thumb that he had been prepared deliberately to lose a cricket match. What had changed?
I took advantage of the generally benign atmosphere. ‘Barrington, do you think now would be a good time for Harriet to talk to Clara? And for Davies to eavesdrop?’
He nodded. ‘Excellent idea. And when you come back, we’ll have a bit of lunch here to celebrate.’