Billy might have been inclined to snigger at Constable Davies’ borrowed trousers, but he stopped abruptly when I asked, ‘And when, Billy, will the Constable’s uniform trousers be dry enough to wear? Heavens, get a laundrymaid to press them until they are. That’s what you would do for the Colonel, is it not? Off you go: we can find our way from here. I hope!’ I added quietly to Davies, making him laugh for the first time since the yokel incident. He might not have understood the Shakespearian allusion, but he certainly recognized and resented the offensive noun. ‘Where do you think is the best place for me to talk to Clara? And for you to hide, of course.’
‘I’ll ask Mrs Simpkiss. Ma’am, those papers. I don’t mind you and your husband knowing all this private stuff, but we’d have to shake off Mr Turton. And he’s sticking in that room like a wasp after jam.’
‘Have you any reason to doubt him? He seems to have done very well to spot things in the water today.’
‘Not really.’ He gnawed his lip. ‘Like I said, I don’t have to lug the family Bible here, but both the Colonel and I have sworn our oaths to God and the Queen. And any Bible would do. But I’d like you made official, like. If you get my meaning.’ As always, as his confidence slipped, so his ease with language ebbed too.
‘Of course I get it. My advice would be to talk to the Colonel alone and tell him straight what you’d like. You have right on your side, Constable. Remember, Matthew and I only want to help, and if our stepping back helps, that’s what we’ll do – after I’ve spoken to Clara, perhaps. Shall I take that necklace? Lead on!’
At least the Constable was smiling broadly when I emerged from my short encounter with Clara. He tucked the necklace back into a tunic pocket.
‘Fancy her being able to confirm it was the Gräfin’s and no one else’s by the difficult catch! Clever little girl. But still very nervous, I’d say.’
‘And near to tears when I hinted I’d like to know more about the man in the room. I wish Mrs Simpkiss would try to get more out of her, but—’ I shrugged. ‘Who does village gossip say is her father?’
‘Oh, one of the servants, ma’am,’ he said repressively, walking in silence until we were away from other ears. ‘Or her ladyship’s father,’ he continued as if in the same breath.
I stopped dead. ‘Constable Davies, forgive me if … Now, the rumour is that Mrs Simpkiss kept her job when she was pregnant? And continued to work here? You see, I know of a very few married housekeepers who managed to combine motherhood and their job – but of no unmarried mothers at all. To a woman, they were sacked – or if they were pregnant by a so-called gentleman, rather than a servant, they were despatched to an estate in a far corner of the country where they lived under a different name.’
He frowned. ‘Well, I wasn’t here myself then, of course. I could ask my auntie. Now you come to mention it, it does seem strange, a place as respectable as this run by a fallen woman.’
‘Respectable?’ I snorted. ‘Gambling debts? Two murders? Respectable indeed, Constable!’ I managed not to scream at his assumption that an illicit pregnancy must be the woman’s fault. ‘I should have thought a respectable woman like Mrs Simpkiss would have felt very uncomfortable with some of the gentry’s goings on.’
‘Ah. Yes. So I wonder how that rumour sprang up. It must have some basis. Except to my mind Clara doesn’t look much like Mrs Simpkiss, does she? I mean, a big strapping woman, and no beauty, if I tell the truth, is mother of a tiny little mite like that who promises to be – well, not pretty, in a head-turning way, but …’ He scratched his head. ‘The sort of girl who looks … well, my wife is a case in point. Hill-farming stock but looks like a lady. Lovely straight nose … Mind you, there was talk of the lord of the manor somewhere in her family’s past, if you get my meaning.’
‘I do indeed,’ I said grimly, fighting to keep a surely unwarrantable suspicion at bay. ‘Tell me, how well do you know Mrs Dabbs?’
‘Mrs Dabbs? Why?’
I raised my eyebrows. ‘Gossip, Mr Davies. Gossip.’
‘I suppose you couldn’t—?’
‘I would find it very hard: after all, Mrs Simpkiss and I – we’ve become fellow-conspirators, in a way.’
He touched the side of his nose. ‘My job it is. Yes, Billy?’
‘Your trousers await in the Room, sir,’ he declared in sepulchral tones, earning a cuff round the ears.
I doubted if the Constable would ever be at ease in his company, but Barrington did his best to make him relax, readily agreeing that it was reasonable of the young man to worry about who might have access to sensitive information. He despatched a footman to bring a Bible, promising to look up the appropriate oath for us both. ‘Yes, why not Cousin Harriet too? After all, Her Majesty is a lady and has ladies waiting on her. Cousin Harriet’s waiting on her in a different way, that’s all.’
No one argued
Almost immediately, Billy brought in luncheon, leaving it on the table before being dismissed. We would serve ourselves. What Mrs Dabbs probably called a light repast was in fact probably a miniature version of what the other guests would be enjoying as they speculated about what us outsiders were up to, with even a miniature galantine as centrepiece among an array of cold meats and salads.
Davies watched us very carefully before accepting any of the delights on offer and especially before picking up his cutlery. Perhaps he did not truly relax until we had reached the dessert course: certainly he did not join in the conversation, though we all made an effort to include him as an equal. Nor did he touch any wine.
At last, over tea and coffee, he took a risk – an entirely justified one – in asking quite without preamble, ‘Sir, who was responsible for repairing that bridge of yours? I’d really like you to see why it’s in the state it’s in. They used the wrong in-fill and actually replaced decent stone with poor bricks and even worse poor mortar. It was as if they wanted it to fall down. Well, if not actually fall down then at least be somewhere they could pull out a few bricks and hide something.’ In the face of a deepening silence, he continued, ‘And I’m thinking the thing they wanted to hide – maybe one of the things – was the Gräfin’s jewel box. You see, young Clara was quite clear that it was her necklace. But not on much else, to be fair. She might have been struck dumb when Mrs Rowsley asked her about the man she saw on the night of the murder.’
‘Frightened, eh?’
‘Very, I would say, Cousin. Almost too frightened to breathe. Still is.’
‘Does that suggest the man is still alive? What do you think, Matthew?’
‘It would have been … poetic justice … if she had screamed at the thought of Biddlestone. I wish no one dead, but since he is dead anyway …’
‘I fear I agree,’ I said. ‘I had reason to dislike him, and if we could have dusted our hands of him … But we can’t, can we? We can’t simply assume that a dislikeable man is our killer.’ Or I would be pointing at Jameson with a quivering accusatory finger. And it seemed I was not the only one.
‘On the other hand, ma’am, you can’t rule out a man just because he is nasty and unpleasant and you think it’s obvious he’s evil too. Begging your pardon, Colonel, but having seen Major Jameson in action, as it were, I really think he could be our man. One of our men.’
‘He was very rude to you, very. I know that. But his bark is worse than his bite.’
‘Mr Turton might think different,’ Davies said stubbornly. ‘I’ve heard how he tormented you, sir.’
Jeremy shrugged. ‘People do. Can imagine turning on him and breaking his jaw. But he’s bigger and stronger than me. My jaw would be the one broken.’ He grinned in response to the sympathetic smiles and struggled on as we shared his agony of embarrassment. ‘But he is strong enough to have strangled the Gräfin. And like me tall enough to have hit Biddlestone. He may have had a motive we don’t know about. Davies is right. Some people get bad reputations because they’re bad people.’
‘Look here,’ Cousin Barrington spluttered, going as red in the face as the Major himself, ‘you’re talking about an officer and a gentleman! A guest under my roof!’
‘Of course, sir,’ Davies said, with far more aplomb than I could have imagined he could summon, ‘which is why I think that you and I should not just quietly speak to him together, but actually accuse him and see how he reacts.’
It was wonderful to watch this supposed bumpkin manipulate an erstwhile leader of men – though I did wish, as I am sure the others did, that we might have witnessed the interview.
But he was speaking again. ‘I believe, Colonel, that one of the young gentlemen staying here is studying the law at university. Do you suppose he might take notes for us? So we can concentrate on what is going on? Doesn’t one of them know a very important judge?’
‘Charles Webbe,’ Matthew murmured. ‘What a good idea, Constable. Meanwhile, would this be a good moment for all of us here to swear an appropriate oath of secrecy and loyalty to the Queen as a temporary officer of the law?’
‘Webbe too, I dare say. I can deal with that if he agrees. Meanwhile, here is the Bible, and I want you to put your hand on it and repeat what I say.’
We swore our oaths. Barrington and Davies left us – but Davies dodged back. In silence, he put a small bundle of papers on the table, catching my eye in the process. Some people might have imagined that he winked.
I dealt the papers out as if they were playing cards. ‘If we share the work – making notes, perhaps – it will be much quicker. Matthew. Jeremy.’ Sitting down, I picked up my pencil.
The men did the same. I had found nothing at all relevant in the first four I examined, though Matthew was already jotting. Suddenly Jeremy was on his feet. ‘Might be an outsider but these are families I mix with. At least my people do. Don’t mind hearing what you two think I ought to know. But other stuff. No. Not spying. Going for a walk.’ He picked up his sketchbook and headed for the door.
‘Please – don’t go! Harriet and I can deal with this.’
‘Davies thinks there’s incriminating material here, doesn’t he?’ It came out with slow, painful anger. ‘I don’t mind catching a murderer. But I don’t want to have to identify a mere gambler or a debtor. No!’ He threw the hideous vase at the wall. ‘I resign!’