‘She happened to pass by the open door of Sir Seymour’s dressing room at the precise moment the capsules were being switched round. If she had been five minutes late or five minutes early she wouldn’t have seen anything. It was fate, she said. The box with the capsules had been inside one of the pockets of Sir Seymour’s jacket. Sir Seymour’s suit had been laid out on his bed, in readiness for his departure. Sir Seymour was having a bath at the time. Apparently he is fond of hot baths.’
‘Lady Tradescant saw the person who swapped the capsules? The poisoner is a member of Sir Seymour’s household?’
‘She is—or rather was.’
‘She? A woman? Not Sir Seymour’s sister?’
‘No. It was one of the staff. Their housekeeper, actually. A Mrs Mowbray. Mrs Mowbray and Sir Seymour had had a row earlier on, sometime after breakfast. Sir Seymour caught her cooking the accounts and he gave her the sack. Told her to pack and clear out of the house. Well, Penelope described Mrs Mowbray as dishonest and devious. Also, as vindictive. There had been problems with her before. What happened that morning was the final straw. Mrs Mowbray was clearly in a deranged state of mind, because after swapping the capsules, she went up to the top floor of the house and chucked herself into the abyss. She was killed outright.’
‘Lady Tradescant had no idea Mrs Mowbray intended to kill herself?’
‘No. Of course not. It was only when she heard the commotion that she realized what had happened.’
‘I believe there was something about it in the paper this morning. House in Mayfair. Suspected suicide. I was looking for news of Sir Seymour’s death.’
‘I saw it too. Of course I had no idea there was a link between her and the Tradescants.’ Jesty took another gulp of whisky. ‘Where was I? Oh yes. Mrs Mowbray swapping the capsules. Penelope said she suspected poison at once, though of course she had to be sure, so, after Mrs Mowbray left the dressing room, she walked in and took the snuff-box out of Sir Seymour’s pocket. There were two capsules inside the box. She opened each one in turn and she sniffed at the contents. She discovered bona fide antibiotic in one capsule. The other capsule contained nicotine.’
‘Nicotine?’ Payne glanced at his pipe. If this doesn’t put me off smoking, nothing will, he thought.
‘Yes. She knew it was nicotine because of the powerful smell of tobacco. She says she has no knowledge of poisons but she knew at once it must be highly poisonous. She knew her husband would die if he swallowed the capsule. She felt excited at the thought. She put the capsule back into the box and the box back into her husband’s pocket. It was a snap decision. She said she wanted him to die.’
‘She had no misgivings or reservations?’
‘No. Penelope described it as her “reckless moment”. She’d been wishing her husband dead for months. She hated and despised him. She wanted to be rid of him. She’d never actually considered killing him herself—but she would be damned if she prevented someone else from killing him. That was her chance to be free—as well as fabulously rich. She left the dressing room without looking back. Sir Seymour was still in the bathroom. Outside in the corridor she spotted a capsule on the floor and she picked it up. It was the antibiotic. Mrs Mowbray seemed to have dropped it. Penelope put it in her bag. It was something she did automatically. She didn’t want it to be found, she said.’
‘What happened next?’
‘Well, Mrs Mowbray’s body was discovered, the police came along and they questioned everybody in the house. They went to Mrs Mowbray’s room. They were looking for a suicide note, it seems. They found a bottle of liquid nicotine in Mrs Mowbray’s chest of drawers. They assumed that initially Mrs Mowbray had considered poisoning herself with it. Penelope had no idea such a bottle existed but she said she was rather pleased about the discovery.’
‘She realized it was Mrs Mowbray who would be incriminated when it was discovered that Sir Seymour had died as a result of nicotine poisoning?’
‘Yes! Penelope said she couldn’t believe her luck. Sir Seymour had already told the police that he’d sacked Mowbray. Well, Sir Seymour was on his way to Mayholme Manor but he had been unsettled by Mrs Mowbray’s death, so he suggested that they went to Claridge’s for coffee. He needed diversion. Penelope didn’t want to go, but he insisted that she accompany him. After he had his coffee, Sir Seymour produced the snuff-box and took out one of the two capsules—’
‘Lady Tradescant couldn’t have known which one.’
‘No, Payne. She couldn’t have. It was one or the other. The antibiotic or the poison. She watched him swallow the capsule. The next moment it hit her—the enormity of it. She said she started shaking. She hid her hands under the table. She felt sick. She said she felt thoroughly disgusted with herself. She is not, she said, a cold-blooded murderess. She hasn’t got the mentality. She was in a state of absolute horror. Would he die or wouldn’t he? He had started talking about his sister, how Bettina wasn’t going to get a penny out of him, how he intended to cut her out of his will and so on. A minute passed. Then another. He seemed to be fine. Eventually he got up and toddled off to the loo. He left the silver box with the remaining capsule on the table. Well, she said she saw her chance then—’
Payne leant forward. ‘Her chance for redemption?’
‘Yes. How funny. “Redemption” was the very word she used. She took the remaining capsule out of the box and replaced it with the one with the antibiotic. She no longer wanted her husband to die. She wanted him to live! Of course it occurred to her that the nicotine might simply be taking longer to dissolve in his stomach. So her agony continued. She thought how undignified it would be if Sir Seymour collapsed and died in the lavatory at Claridge’s, but then—then he reappeared. He seemed all right, not at all ill. She felt enormous relief. She said she nearly kissed him.’
‘Apparently she accompanied Sir Seymour to Mayholme Manor …’
‘She told me she hadn’t intended to, but now she wanted to make sure he got to Mayholme Manor without a hitch. She suddenly felt extremely protective of him, she said. She didn’t want anything bad to happen to him … She said she wouldn’t have been able to live with herself if he had died.’
There was a pause.
Payne cleared his throat. ‘Well, it’s a perfectly plausible story. It explains why she looked guilty when she realized we had seen her, the Lady-of-Shalott expression, pallor and everything.’
‘Practically everything. Yes.’ Captain Jesty gazed at him. ‘But you still believe Sir Seymour might be dead?’
‘I am sure I am wrong. I have the Master’s word that Sir Seymour is alive and well. Sir Seymour ordered a full English breakfast this morning—’
‘Penelope mentioned the English breakfast!’ Jesty cried. ‘She said she phoned Sir Seymour this morning and he told her how much he had enjoyed it. It seems she did tell the truth after all!’
‘It seems she did. Unless she and the Master are in cahoots? The Master might be hiding the body—’ Payne broke off. ‘There I go again! I am worse than Antonia. Sorry, Jesty.’
‘Who’s Antonia? Your mistress?’
‘My wife. What bothers me is that I never managed to see Sir Seymour. I persuaded the Master to take me to his room, room number 33, but Sir Seymour wasn’t there. He wasn’t in the garden either—nor in the chapel. He wasn’t in the library or in the billiards room. We went round looking for him. I insisted, you see. Eventually we got to the salle de ciné. A film was in progress and there were at least a dozen old boys watching it. The Master didn’t turn on the lights, but he called out and asked if Sir Seymour was among the spectators. Well, Sir Seymour appeared to be there—’
‘What d’you mean, appeared? He either was there or he wasn’t!’
‘The Master didn’t turn on the lights, so I couldn’t see much. We heard somebody—an old buffer’s voice—rasp out in an irritated manner that he was there. What did we want? Couldn’t we bloody well see he was watching a film? Didn’t the Master know how annoying it was to be disturbed? At which the Master, in a fluster, apologized and we went out.’
‘You think the old buffer who spoke to you in the salle de ciné was not Sir Seymour? You think Sir Seymour might have been poisoned after all? You think he died last night and that for some mysterious reason the Master is concealing his death? You suspect some kind of a cover-up?’
‘Golly, it sounds even more ridiculous when somebody else says it,’ Payne said.