When Fran joined the family for lunch in the dining room, she was feeling somewhat dispirited. To be sure, there were some loose ends to be tied up – there was Mellie’s mysterious reference to ‘you know what’ which she had overheard in the hall. ‘Uncle Charles’ was definitely of interest, for he appeared to have spent at least some of the afternoon of his father’s death unaccounted for. She still needed to speak with Miss Billington, who might perhaps have seen something useful, when she had been forced to pursue Imogen after the latter fled from the beach. And then there was Imogen herself. Fran wondered whether it would be possible to keep her still long enough to get any sense out of her.
As they tucked in to Scotch eggs and salad, Eddie said, ‘I do hope you are going to take some time off from sleuthing this afternoon. All work and no play makes Jill a dull girl – not that you could ever be dull of course,’ he added hastily. ‘But it’s shaping up to be a splendid day and I was going to take a walk up through the woods and across to the west cliff. Do say you’ll accompany me. It might be useful too, because it’s the way the Baddeley kids would have walked the day Grandfather died.’
‘That would be delightful,’ Fran said. ‘And as you say, it might be useful.’
‘And I promise not to pump you for information,’ Eddie added. ‘We are all agreed among ourselves that you must be left to get on with your investigation, without any interference or undue curiosity … though I for one am dying of curiosity, as you must know.’
As a result of Eddie’s invitation, the two of them set out together about half an hour later, initially taking the main path which led through the garden to the shore, then striking off to the right after a few minutes to follow a much steeper, narrower path through the belt of trees which edged the western side of the valley. The branches were still bare, but Fran could imagine how dim and shady it would have been on a summer’s day. Pausing for a moment, to look back the way she had come, she realized that even when shorn of their canopy of leaves, the trees ensured that the house and garden were completely out of sight. It would have been most unlikely that the Baddeley children would have seen anyone or anything useful on their walk to and from Sunnyside’s garden.
‘Do these woods belong to your family?’ she asked.
‘Oh, yes. The Edgerton land goes on for ages yet. We – or rather Roly – owns all this woodland and the grazing on top. The Baddeley estate doesn’t start until you get down into the Ave valley.’
‘It’s beautiful countryside round here. You’re very fortunate.’
‘Aren’t we, though? Spring and summer are the best times here. I blame Sunnyside for my own lack of industry. If it wasn’t for this glorious place, I might be earning a crust, playing piano in some club or other up in London.’
‘You could easily make a living as a pianist,’ Fran said. ‘You’re awfully good.’
Eddie laughed. ‘I have thought of it,’ he said. ‘I know Mother wouldn’t be keen. It’s not quite the thing, is it? Being an entertainer? And it’s fearfully hard to get started. The other thing is …’ Eddie hesitated. They had come to the edge of the trees and as he turned to hold open a gate, which led into a broad green field, she saw that his expression was unusually serious. ‘It’s sort of … Oh, I don’t know … fraudulent, somehow. You see, I don’t need the money. Thanks to Grandfather, I have enough in the way of income that anything I earned wouldn’t matter, so I’d be nothing but a dilettante. And what’s more, I’d be taking work from someone who really needs it. I suppose you think I’m a bit of an idiot to even care? I mean, most fellows would just think that if one wanted to do a thing, one should just grab that chance.’
‘Oh, but you are so right,’ Fran said. ‘It does seem mean to take away a job from someone else who needs it more.’
Eddie’s face broke into a much more characteristic grin. ‘I knew that you would see it,’ he said.
‘But in the meantime,’ Fran said, ‘I suppose that does leave you with a lot of unfulfilled ambitions.’
‘You overestimate me.’ Eddie gave another, self-deprecatory laugh. ‘Apart from my musical bent, I am very much suited to a life of indolence, supplemented by a private income. I’d like to travel, I suppose. I’ve always fancied one of those long sea voyages, where one sees something new and exotic every few days. The thing is that one needs the right companion to share it.’
‘My best friend, Mo, has just sailed out to visit her husband in Malaya. It sounds as if she has had tremendous fun on the voyage.’
‘The company would be everything, of course.’
‘I believe she has fallen in with quite a lively crowd.’
Eddie made no reply and they walked on across the field in silence, then climbed a stile to enter another grassy expanse, where the ground continued to rise gently. When they reached the highest point, Fran saw that the land ahead of them slid into a gentle fold, where a solitary house stood in a grove of newly planted trees. ‘Is that Baddeley Court?’ she asked.
‘Lord, no. Baddeley Court is a good half-mile further west. Grandfather had this built a couple of years after Sunnyside House was finished. He had a drive put in as well, so you can get to it via the road. It’s a jolly spot, isn’t it? Sea views from all the south-facing windows.’
As they continued towards the house, Fran could see that it was relatively newly built, its garden not yet enclosed or laid out. ‘Who lives there?’ she asked, anticipating some family retainer, perhaps holding some fresh and as yet unexpected clue.
‘No one,’ Eddie said. ‘It was built for me.’
‘But you don’t live here?’
‘Oh, no. Roly and Mellie don’t seem to mind that Hen and I are perpetually playing gooseberry. We all rub along together pretty well, as you’ve probably realized. So Innominate House won’t be tenanted until I’ve persuaded the right woman to share it with me.’
‘Innominate House?’
‘The house with no name. Grandfather meant that I should name it myself, but I’ve no imagination to speak of, so it will be left up to my bride. Like to see around?’
‘Oh, I’d love to,’ said Fran, whose healthy curiosity extended to other people’s houses.
‘It’s not furnished,’ Eddie said, as he fished the front door keys from his pocket.
‘Is that to be left to the future Mrs Edgerton too?’ Fran asked, as he held the door open for her.
‘Absolutely. Women have far better taste than men.’
It was an undeniably lovely house and Fran had no difficulty in finding complimentary things to say about it as Eddie showed her over the property. He seemed gratified by her enthusiasm. ‘And no one has ever stayed here?’ she asked, remembering that when it came to detection, one should always consider the unexpected.
‘No one. The property will be entirely virginal, even if the bride is not.’
Fran felt herself blushing and tried not to show that she was shocked. He had spoken so casually. She had heard that the upper classes could sometimes be unexpectedly liberal in such matters. Who knew what rackety, racy lives the young Edgertons lived, getting up to all sorts of things when they went up to their house in London?
‘Thank you for showing me around,’ Fran said. ‘I suppose we had better be getting back.’
‘Of course. The days go by so quickly, don’t they? You know, I really must take you out for a run down to Frencombe and into Avemouth one of these days. They’re both quite pretty in a rustic sort of way. And we could pop over to Baddeley Court. Young Rhona and Frank are both away at school, but Colonel Baddeley’s a fascinating chap and they always have afternoon tea in the great hall, in front of the fire. The fireplace dates from the sixteenth century or something like that. We Edgertons are far too nouveaux to be able to offer anything half as splendid.’
‘Mmm,’ said Fran, who was vaguely wondering how much longer she could usefully stay at Sunnyside House, once she had interviewed just about anyone there was to be interviewed. ‘Perhaps tomorrow …’
‘Oh, it won’t be tomorrow, I’m afraid. Didn’t I mention that I have to go across to Winchester for a funeral? It’s my old headmaster – a splendid fellow. Roly never got to know him as he only arrived the same year that I joined the school.’
‘Oh.’ Fran tried not to show any disappointment. An excursion to take tea in a sixteenth-century great hall was not to be sniffed at.
‘You will have to manage your sleuthing without your would-be Watson. Not that I’ve been any help at all. Not that you need any help. You’re quite marvellously independent, aren’t you? And I expect you’ve uncovered all the family skeletons.’
‘So far as I can see, there are no family skeletons.’
‘Well, only the Sidmouth business.’
‘I’m afraid I don’t know anything about the Sidmouth business.’
There was a moment of awkward silence. ‘Oh. I thought that Roly … Oh, I see.’ He faltered to a halt.
Fran decided to leave the matter hanging in the air. Left to his own devices, Eddie might well explain what he was talking about of his own accord.
After another few strides, Eddie said, ‘You see, Roly mentioned this morning that you had asked him about Grandfather’s will, so obviously, I thought …’
He got no further, because they were interrupted by a cheerful hail from a pair of figures, which were approaching across the field.
‘It’s your sister, Hen,’ said Fran, recognizing the tall, slender figure on the right. ‘But that isn’t Mellie with her, is it?’
‘No,’ said Eddie, a touch grimly. ‘It’s Mabel Trenchard. What on earth is Hen doing, bringing her up here after us? Look here, Fran, please don’t ask Mabel any direct questions about the day of Grandfather’s death if you can possibly help it. I’ll try to steer her on to the subject if I can, but it would be far better if she doesn’t suspect why you’re here. The Trenchards know everyone and Mabel’s mother is the most fearful old gossip. The whole business would be all over the county by teatime tomorrow.’
‘Don’t worry,’ Fran said quietly, for she knew how sound tended to carry over open ground. ‘Complete discretion, I promise you.’
‘Here you are, Mabel,’ Henrietta said cheerfully as the two pairs met. ‘I told you this was where we’d find them. Mabel, this is Fran Black, who is down for a few days from the barren north. Fran, meet Mabel Trenchard, one of our oldest friends.’
The two women shook hands politely, each covertly appraising the other for entirely different reasons. Fran decided that Eddie’s assessment of Mabel Trenchard’s looks had been less than kind. She was a handsome, broad-shouldered girl, with dark curly hair, cut in a boyish style and a face lit up by a ready smile.
‘Mabel has come over to show you her new car, Eddie. An early birthday present from her parents.’
Fran noticed that in spite of Eddie’s earlier irritation, he managed to adopt a warm smile and a friendly tone to match. ‘A new car? What sort is it?’
‘It’s a blue one, of course. My favourite colour.’ Mabel grinned, while Fran tried to decide whether she was being an idiot on purpose. ‘I wanted you to be one of the first to see it. Promise me that you’ll come back to the house right away and look it over.’
‘Of course. We were on our way back to the house in any case.’
Having paused to effect introductions, the party turned and headed back the way they had all come. In a neat sidestep, Mabel placed herself next to Eddie, looped her arm through his and started to chatter about her new car. ‘It positively whizzed along the Frencombe road. I got her up to fifty on the straight bit above Rigg’s Farm.’
‘Actually Mabel, it’s funny you should turn up just now,’ Eddie interjected, when the young woman at his side paused momentarily to draw breath. ‘You might be able to settle something for me. Just before you and Hen appeared I was telling Fran about the afternoon when Grandfather died and I was trying to remember exactly who was there that day. Hadn’t you and Vicky come across to play tennis?’
‘What a curious thing to be talking about!’ exclaimed Mabel. ‘Why yes, Vicky and I were certainly over here. We stayed for tea, but we’d motored home before anyone realized that anything was wrong. It was a terrible shock when we heard what had happened. To think that we were all sitting out on the terrace, munching madeleines and tea bread when the poor chap … well, you know … and to imagine him shouting for help, and no one hearing a thing.’
‘What makes you think that he shouted for help?’ Fran asked, trying not to sound too interested.
‘Well, I supposed that he might have done. If he had realized that his bath chair was getting out of control and running away with him.’
In her mind Fran pictured the path. There was really no question of a downward slope which would have provided the necessary momentum to carry the chair over the edge, particularly as it would have met the resistance of the long grass which grew for a good foot or two between the path and the drop.
‘Anyway,’ Mabel said briskly, ‘I’m sure no one wants to dwell on horrible things like that.’
They had reached the gate which led back into the trees and she was forced to let go of Eddie’s arm while he unlatched it. ‘I say, are you coming to the Lyndons’ dance on Friday evening? Vicky is going as Britannia, which will be hellish difficult from the point of view of dancing, I should say, though we do so love getting ourselves up in fancy dress.’
‘And what are you going as?’ asked Henrietta.
‘It’s a secret,’ Mabel declared archly. ‘Wait and see. You are coming, aren’t you?’
‘Are we invited? I’d forgotten all about it,’ Eddie said.
‘Of course we’re invited.’ His sister sounded exasperated. ‘In fact, I must ring the Lyndons and ask if we can bring Fran along. Oh, it’s all right,’ she added quickly, waving away Fran’s attempted protest. ‘The Lyndons won’t mind at all and we can easily find you a costume. It’s a bit late to send away for something, but we’ve got heaps of stuff from previous parties – or we can just adapt something.’
Eddie’s attempt at drawing Mabel Trenchard into conversation about the day of his grandfather’s death had been a complete failure, Fran thought, deciding that it probably didn’t matter very much anyway, as Miss Trenchard was neither a suspect nor the sort of person who might have made a particularly good witness.
When they reached the house, Mabel led Eddie off towards the front of the house in a manner which did not encourage his sister and their visitor to follow. As Fran and Henrietta entered by the garden door they met Lady Louisa. ‘Ah, so Henrietta and Mabel found the two of you.’ She smiled. ‘Mabel would have been so disappointed if she hadn’t been able to show off her motor car to Eddie.’
‘Poor Eddie.’ Hen grinned. ‘Mabel has her hooks pretty firmly into him.’
‘Mabel is a very nice girl,’ her mother said firmly. ‘Any young man could do far worse.’
It transpired that after minutely examining the car’s various features, Mabel insisted on taking Eddie for a drive in it, which on their return naturally led to her being invited to stay for tea. Fran observed the scene with well-concealed amusement, as Lady Louisa – for once in the drawing room, rather than overseeing operations in the garden or otherwise engrossed elsewhere – made polite conversation with Mabel, while her older children mischievously exhorted Eddie to pass Mabel the tea cakes, the sugar and every other possible thing which could engineer extra contact between them.
When Mabel had finally been waved off up the drive, the conversation returned to the subject of the fancy-dress party.
‘Fran could wear that Pierrot costume,’ Mellie suggested. ‘I’m going as Ophelia. I’ve ordered a red wig specially, so that I’ll look like the woman in the painting. The famous one that’s in the National Gallery.’
‘Lizzie Siddons,’ said Fran.
‘Who?’ Mellie’s brow furrowed in some confusion.
‘She was the model with the red hair. The one who posed as Ophelia,’ Fran explained. ‘You know, I really don’t feel that I should come to this party. I don’t know the people and I will probably have done all I can here by then.’
A chorus of protests greeted her at once.
‘Oh, but you can’t possibly leave before the weekend.’
‘It doesn’t matter a bit you not knowing the Lyndons. Friends’ houseguests are always included.’
‘There’s no need to be shy. We’ll introduce you to everyone. You’ll have a splendid time.’
Fran – who had no desire to make a fool of herself by dressing as a Pierrot – held her peace, while silently deciding that something might need to happen back at home which would call her away before the event in question took place.