03 - Murder at Sedgwick Court (28 page)

‘Or
perhaps I just wish to have the opportunity to break the news to him gently.
Whatever you may think of me, Inspector, Mr Montacute has been very kind to me
and I am very fond of him.’

‘Spoken
with true feeling, Miss Wentmore. For the life of me, I don’t know what to make
of you.’ 

‘I don’t
know what to make of Jemima either,’ Rose said.

She was
speaking to Cedric over cocktails. While it had been decided not to dress for
dinner, few of the guests seemed inclined to indulge in pre-dinner drinks
either, preferring instead to keep to their rooms until the very last minute.
Rose and Cedric were therefore alone, and were likely to be so for a few
minutes more.

‘The inspector
made quite a good case for why Jemima might have wanted to kill Emmeline, and
how she went about it.’

‘Did he
indeed? But she denied it of course, didn’t she?’

‘Yes, she
did.’

‘But,
from what you’ve told me, it sounds as if the inspector’s coming around to your
way of thinking about her being an impostor,’ said Cedric, ‘which is good,
isn’t it?’

‘Well, it
was obvious to us all that it was a great shock to Jemima when she heard that
Mr Montacute was due back from his travels.’

‘Well,
that will clear everything up, won’t it? Poor fellow. What a homecoming. Still,
if Jemima isn’t Jemima, it stands to reason that Emmeline isn’t Emmeline, so
perhaps he’ll receive some welcome news after all.’

‘Oh,
Cedric, I’m not so sure that I haven’t got it all wrong about Jemima being an
impostor,’ Rose said, looking rather wistful. ‘If only the inspector had asked Jemima
the one question that might have thrown some light on it. I would have asked
her myself, but unfortunately I had already interrupted the inspector a few
times when he was in his stride. I didn’t think he would indulge me asking
another question.’

‘And what
question was that?’

‘Why
Jemima didn’t try to put a stop to the relationship developing between Emmeline
and Theo Harrison. According to Lavinia, she watched Emmeline like a hawk and reported
everything back to Mr Montacute. And he was unlikely to approve of Theo as a
prospective son-in-law, was he? No matter how good a doctor Theo is, Mr
Montacute would have wanted someone much grander for his daughter, don’t you
think?’

‘Unless
his only concern was her happiness. If he doted on the girl as much as everyone
says he did, Emmeline needn’t have married a rich or influential husband. She
had all the wealth she could possibly need. And apart from the way he’s behaved
towards poor Vera, Harrison’s a pretty good sort.’

‘If you
say so,’ said Rose, sounding far from convinced.

‘What did
you make of Jemima’s story about the diamonds?’ asked Cedric, deciding to
change the subject. ‘Sounds jolly odd to me.’

‘Well,’
said Rose, ‘if Jemima was speaking the truth about the necklace always having
been a paste replica, it would explain why she looked so apprehensive when the count
produced his jeweller’s loupe. If you remember, she didn’t join in the game.’

‘Although,
if the inspector’s right about the count being a jewel thief, wouldn’t he have
noticed that the diamonds were fake?’

‘Yes, he
would. But he might not have said anything. If you remember, he paused before
he passed judgement on them. One thing I am certain of though. Emmeline
believed them to be genuine. The inspector was quite right that she wouldn’t
have been able to keep quiet about them not being real. She would have found it
awfully funny if the count had mistaken fake diamonds for the real thing.’

‘It seems
to me that the inspector is accusing everyone of being a jewel thief. I’m
rather surprised he hasn’t accused me of being one!’

‘He is
rather, isn’t he?’

‘I say,
that tampered jewellery box is all a bit of a rum go, isn’t it? Did you believe
Jemima’s story about someone putting it in her room?’

‘I don’t
quite know what to make of it,’ replied Rose truthfully. ‘Although I think I
know when Jemima hid the box on the landing. It was when Lavinia and I went to
get her on our way back down to the drawing room. I have no doubt Jemima was
carrying it in her handbag. She seemed reluctant to leave her room at first,
and then all at once she dashed over to one of the windows making some excuse about
wanting to see if the maze could be seen from the house.’

‘Sounds
rather a strange thing to do,’ agreed Cedric.

‘She
almost upset a plant stand in the process. I think she stuffed the jewellery
box either in or behind a flower pot. There was a houseplant on the stand, you
see. She fiddled with it for a while. At the time I just assumed she was trying
to make sure the plant was securely positioned on the plant stand after
knocking it. But now I think she was trying to wipe off her fingerprints.
Unfortunately for her, your sister was keen to be downstairs. She asked Jemima
what she was doing so she had to hurry her task which would explain why she
missed wiping off one or two of the fingerprints.’

‘That’s
Lavinia for you,’ said Cedric. ‘Always impatient. And unfortunately she seems
to have taken a bit of a dislike to poor Jemima.’

‘It won’t
be unfortunate if Jemima turns out to be as fake as Emmeline’s diamonds.
Speaking of Lavinia, I take it she is coming down for dinner. She hasn’t
decided to eat by herself in her boudoir has she?’

Cedric
made a face.

‘I told
her in no uncertain terms that I expected her to come down for dinner. I said,
if nothing else, she owed it to Emmeline. I mentioned that you’d be busy
interrogating the guests and that it was her task to keep the conversation
flowing so that they wouldn’t realise what you were doing. Hello, here’s
Thistlewaite.’

‘I say, I
hope I’m not intruding.’ Felix said affably, appearing in the doorway. ‘Aren’t
the others down yet? I thought I might be late.’

‘What
will you have, Felix? I’ll do the honours. The servants are having their
dinner.’

‘A
Sidecar, if it’s no trouble.’ Felix turned to Rose while Cedric moved away to
mix the drink. ‘I developed rather a taste for the cocktail while I was in
Paris. Look here, how’s Jemima bearing up? I heard you accompanied her when the
police interviewed her. Jolly decent of you. She’s taken it all rather badly,
I’m afraid. Not surprising of course. I just wish she’d let me speak to her.
She’s keeping herself to herself, and I’m certain it’s not doing her any good.
I just want her to know that I’m here for her if she needs me.’

‘I’m sure
she already knows that,’ said Rose. ‘She’s just shaken up by everything, that’s
all. Tell me, do you know if it was her idea to go to the Continent or
Emmeline’s?’

‘Oh,
Emmeline’s to be sure. Jemima was always a little nervous while we were in Florence.
I don’t think she much liked going against Mr Montacute’s wishes. I think she
couldn’t wait to get back to the safety of their Highland home. Emmeline on the
other hand showed no sign of ever wanting to return there. No doubt she had her
father wrapped around her little finger. She had no fear of being made homeless
when he found out what they’d done.’

‘I see.’

‘Of
course I’m jolly pleased that I met Jemima and all that, but I’ve been
wondering today whether she didn’t have the right idea after all, in light of what’s
happened. It sounds damned ungrateful, I know, but part of me wishes Great Aunt
Mabel had never treated me to a European tour. I say,’ Felix paused, a look of
amusement appearing on his face, ‘Lavinia’s obviously decided to ignore the
suggestion that we didn’t dress for dinner tonight!’

‘Cedric
really needn’t look at me like that,’ complained Lavinia. ‘I am wearing a black
dress after all and no diamonds. But I tell you, Rose, I absolutely draw the
line at not dressing for dinner. Particularly when one has guests.’

Rose
opened her mouth to issue a word of reproach, but thought better of it.

‘Now
where is Count Fernand?’ continued Lavinia. ‘I haven’t seen much of him at all
today, have you? I really do think I need to be flattered and amused tonight. It
is all going to be so deadly dull.’

‘Lavinia,
really! I don’t think you are half as awful as you make out.’

‘Then you
have a better opinion of me, Rose, than I do of myself.’ Lavinia turned around
to survey the room. ‘Oh, have you seen the way Jemima is looking at Vera? If
looks could kill! Although perhaps I shouldn’t say that in the circumstances.’

‘Unfortunately
the inspector let slip that it was Vera who enticed Emmeline to go to the maze.
I expect Jemima holds her partly to blame for Emmeline’s death.’

‘Well I
never! I wouldn’t have thought Vera would have had it in her. If I’d have been
in her shoes, I think it would have been Theo I’d have given a good talking to,
not Emmeline. Now where is Max? Really, it’s too bad. Manning will be calling
us to go into dinner any minute.’

‘By the
way, has the inspector interviewed you yet?’ asked Rose. She was rather curious
as to what the two of them would have made of each other.

‘No, he
hasn’t. Horrible little man! He isn’t a patch on your Inspector Deacon.’

‘He isn’t
my
Inspector Deacon, Lavinia. But does that mean you’ve met Inspector
Bramwell?’

‘Yes. And
I didn’t like him one little bit. He was frightfully rude to me, you know. I
went in to see him just before I went up to dress for dinner. I told him that I
thought it was rather too much that he’d kept me waiting so long.’

‘I can
imagine that went down rather well!’ Rose said, smiling in spite of herself.

‘He told
me in no uncertain terms that he would summon me when he wished to interview me
and not before, and that I should run off and get some dinner while I had the
chance. And what is more,’ Lavinia said indignantly, ‘I could have sworn that Sergeant
Lane, who up until then I did think was quite a nice man, was trying his hardest
not to laugh.’

Lavinia’s
attention was diverted by the entrance of a man both girls barely recognised,
his attire being so very different to what they had become accustomed to him sporting.

‘Good
gracious!’ exclaimed Lavinia. ‘That can’t be Max, can it? Whatever is he
wearing? It looks like an ordinary wool tweed suit to me!’    

Count
Fernand did indeed look uncomfortable and out of place in the gathering. He was
looking around the room rather apprehensively, as if he were afraid that any
moment he would be asked to leave or to take his dinner in the servants’
quarters.

Rose went
over to him and smiled reassuringly. She then proceeded to speak to him in a
voice barely above a whisper.

‘I want
to ask you a question, and I need you to answer me truthfully. Will you?’

‘That
would depend on your question, Miss Simpson,’ replied Count Fernand, cocking an
eye at her quizzically. Rose noticed that all traces of a foreign accent had vanished
from his voice.     

‘Did you
put Emmeline’s jewellery box in Jemima’s room?’

‘I’m not
sure I will answer that question. I don’t think it is in my interests to do
so.’

‘I beg to
disagree. I think it is very much in your best interests to do so. But the very
fact that you haven’t denied placing it there answers my question.’

‘I am not
a jewel thief, whatever that inspector might think.’

‘I never
said you were. For what it’s worth, I don’t think you are. But please do answer
my question. Did you put that box in Jemima’s room? Was it because someone had
placed it in your own room?’

‘Yes,’
replied Count Fernand, wearily. ‘How did you know? I found it in my room first
thing this morning when I woke up. The lock had clearly been tampered with. It
worried me that the necklace was still there. I wondered whether it was a fake.
I thought someone was trying to implicate me in a theft. The thought even crossed
my mind that it might be his lordship. I know he doesn’t approve of me and is
suspicious of my intentions towards his sister. I thought he might have been
trying to discredit me in her eyes.’

‘Cedric
would never have done such a thing!’ cried Rose.

‘You are
right, of course. I did him a disservice when I thought it was him. But at the
time I thought it was only a question of theft.’

‘So you
decided to put it in Jemima’s room?’

‘Yes. I
thought she was the one person who could not be implicated in the theft. She
had a key to the jewellery box. Emmeline had told me so herself. Jemima had no
reason to tamper with the box when she could open it with the key.’

‘Unless
she wanted to divert suspicion from herself,’ said Rose.

 The count
sighed. ‘As soon as it was discovered that Emmeline had been murdered, I
realised the situation was much more serious than I had first imagined it to be.
Someone was trying to implicate me in the girl’s death. Hello? I think we’re
going into dinner.’ 

‘I just
have one more question to ask you,’ Rose said quickly. ‘When you looked at
Emmeline’s necklace under your jeweller’s loupe, did it occur to you that the
diamonds might be fake?’

‘As it
happens that thought did cross my mind. But it didn’t seem to make any sense so
I dismissed it. I say, the policeman asked me the same question. I was at a
loss how best to answer. Tell me. Do you think Emmeline’s necklace was
genuine?’

‘No,’
said Rose. ‘I think it was a paste replica. I think the real necklace never
left Scotland.’

That
night Rose found it difficult to get to sleep, which she considered hardly
surprising given the circumstances. For one thing, she was sleeping in a
different bed than usual. Lavinia had decided that she did not wish to sleep
alone with a murderer at large. She had therefore requested that Rose sleep in
her dressing room, which joined Lavinia’s bedroom by way of a connecting door.
The decision had been taken to keep this door open, which was proving far from satisfactory
from Rose’s perspective. For, somewhat to her surprise, she had discovered that
Lavinia had a propensity towards snoring loud enough to shake the house.  

Although
tired, Rose found that most annoyingly she was fully awake. She lay in her bed
thinking how mercilessly she would tease Lavinia in the morning. In the meantime,
while sleep eluded her, she gave up her mind to reviewing the events leading up
to the murder and its subsequent aftermath. The more she thought and
remembered, the more everything seemed to blur into one with sentences and
scenes, no matter how separate and disjointed, appearing as if from nowhere,
jumbled together and overlapping like a badly put together jigsaw puzzle.

Vera saying
how Emmeline behaved like a child in a sweetshop … Emmeline and Jemima walking
side by side, a little removed from the others, their heads bent towards each
other as if they were sharing a secret … Emmeline giggling and laughing with
Theo while Vera looked on ... Cedric carefully and deliberately cleaning the
candlestick, and Felix crying out for him to stop what he was doing ... Count
Fernand comforting Jemima and leading her out of the maze ... Jemima
frightened, always frightened, and anxious and wanting to be back at home ... Vera
asking spitefully about the kidnap attempt and Emmeline and Jemima going to
pieces over it ... Emmeline’s diamonds being hurriedly passed around and around
the room. Everyone peering at them except for Jemima and Vera standing apart
and alone, as if ostracised … Vera’s confession that she had written the note
that had summoned Emmeline to meet her fate ... Jemima’s evasiveness even when
being interviewed.

It all
went round and round in Rose’s head. Everything swirling together with the odd
sentence or scene coming into focus before disappearing into the fog. How long
it went on like this, Rose did not know. Later she wondered whether she had
been conscious of the shift. For the mist had gradually appeared to get less dense
until it cleared. And suddenly Rose knew. She knew the missing link that would
unlock the door and let the light in. The light that would reveal once and for
all who the murderer was.

If she
settled back among her pillows and allowed her exhausted mind to sleep, she was
confident that by the morning she would know the identity of the murderer. She
sighed, and the sleep that had eluded her for so long at last overtook her in a
rush. Lavinia’s snores seemed no more than the noise of the wind whistling
through the trees.

‘Sir!
Sir! Wake up!’

‘Huh? ...
Eh? ...What?’

The inspector
somewhat reluctantly gave in to the incessant shaking of his shoulders that
thrust him into the land of the conscious. Begrudgingly he half opened bleary,
still sleepy eyes and found himself staring at his sergeant. This spectacle in
itself was enough to cause him to rouse fully, let alone that he could not at
first remember where he was. It was only as his watery eyes began to focus, to
take in the strange curtains and unfamiliar dimensions of the room, that he
remembered he was at Sedgwick Court.

‘What
time is it?’

‘Nearly
six o’clock, sir.’

‘What in …’
the inspector sat up and glared at Sergeant Lane, before an awful thought
struck him, which had him clinging on to his subordinate’s shirt collar,
pulling the man down to his level.

‘Don’t
tell me there’s been another murder! Not while we’ve been sleeping under their
roof. That really would
–
’

‘No, sir.
Nothing like that,’ said Sergeant Lane reassuringly.

‘Then
what’s the meaning of waking me up like this? We no doubt have a long day in
front of us. I need all the sleep I can get. I’m not getting any younger, you
know.’

‘If you
remember, sir, after we interviewed Miss Wentmore yesterday we thought there
was a possibility that Miss Simpson’s theory that she was an impostor might
prove correct after all.’

‘Well, Miss
Wentmore was certainly damned evasive,’ admitted Inspector Bramwell grudgingly.
‘And pretty shaken up at the idea of coming face to face with old Montacute.’

‘That’s
just it, sir. It got me to thinking. I telephoned the station last night and
asked them to arrange for a constable to speak with that secretary fellow,
Stapleton, and get a physical description of Miss Montacute and Miss Wentmore.’

‘Well?’

‘To tell
you the truth, I’d forgotten all about it until this morning when I myself was
rudely awakened from my slumber a half hour ago by a rather annoyed Mr Manning.
Apparently the constable obtained a description of the two young ladies last
night and intended to telephone us with the information later this morning.’

‘Well,
what made him change his plans?’

‘Stapleton
telephoned the station an hour or so ago. Apparently he’s received a telephone
call from Montacute. The fellow had decided to come home earlier than intended.
Would you believe it, his ship docked yesterday. He stayed the night in some
hotel or other. Stapleton’s a quick fellow. Thought on his feet and hid from
his master the panic he was feeling. He told him to come straight here.’

‘Good
God! Did he tell him why?’

‘No. Not
the real reason. He just said that Miss Montacute and Miss Wentmore were
staying here. He didn’t mention anything regarding the murder.’

‘Do you
know what time he’s likely to arrive?’

‘Stapleton
said it put the wind up Montacute when he discovered Miss Montacute wasn’t at
home. He wouldn’t put it past the old man to have set off for Sedgwick at
once.’

‘If
that’s the case
–
’

‘He should
be here within the hour, sir.’

Inspector
Bramwell showed again how surprisingly agile a man of his physique could be by
scrambling out of bed and proceeding to pull on his clothes in a haphazard
fashion.

‘I’m
afraid that’s not all, sir.’

‘What?
There’s more? Out with it, Sergeant.’

‘The
descriptions of the two ladies, sir.’

‘What’s
wrong with them?’

‘They
don’t match our Miss Montacute and Miss Wentmore.’

‘What
–
’

‘See
here, sir. The real Miss Wentmore is above average height with hair that is
dark in colour, so Stapleton says. A striking woman, he called her.’

‘That’s
hardly our dowdy Miss Wentmore,’ cried Inspector Bramwell. ‘A plain, drab
little thing she is. Can’t see what that fellow Thistlewaite sees in her.’

‘It
proves, sir, that the woman purporting to be Jemima Wentmore is not her.’

‘It does
indeed. It just goes to prove I was right, Lane. She’s nothing but a jewel
thief. No doubt she was trying to ingratiate herself with Lady Lavinia so she
could steal some of her jewels.’