Murder at the Spring Ball: A 1920s Mystery by Benedict Brown (romantic novels in english .txt) 📗

assumed he had seen something when he hadn’t. With Clementine’s testimony Walter became a prime suspect, but your uncle’s death also forced me to pay more attention to George and the Adelaides. She did an awfully good job of muddying the waters and, I have to admit that I took far too long to consider that she was involved.”

We had been rocketing along the path but Grandfather came to a stop all of a sudden and looked out across the great lawn towards the lake. “It was really rather ingenious what she did to Maitland. With the first killing, she’d been banking on the fact that no one would suspect an old woman. If she’d managed to kill us all but got caught, it was Cora who would have inherited everything anyway. With Maitland, though, she came up with a clever trick.”

This was the part of the case where I’d really got lost and I was glad he was about explain it all. I just hoped I wouldn’t have to ask him to speak more slowly or repeat everything twice.

“There were two crossbows in the armoury and she had all the time in the world to hide one under your parents’ bed while they were at breakfast, at least an hour before Maitland died. After that, all she needed was a quiet moment while your uncle was on his morning walk to set up in the armoury and TWANG! The bolt pierced poor Maitland’s heart and he died in my arms. In many families, such a crack shot would have narrowed down our field of suspects. Sadly, George and your father had grown up hunting, Fellowes is pretty handy with a pistol and I knew that Clemmie had done plenty of archery back when Cora was at school. In fact, the only person it would have ruled out was Maitland himself – who couldn’t hit a cow with a carbine at point blank range. Perhaps that’s why she chose him as her target, or perhaps she would have killed whoever walked into her sights.

“Clementine closed the window to make it look as though your father had shot down from the floor above. It was simple enough for her to take your father’s cigar ash from the smoking room too and plant it in the armoury. And though only an incredibly stupid criminal would have been smoking as he carried out a murder, I’m sorry to tell you that I couldn’t rule out your father’s guilt for some time.”

I suppose this meant my grandfather had lied to me, but I didn’t hold it against him. “That’s okay. I know you only kept quiet to save my feelings. He was a suspect like anyone else and, without you, he’d still be in a cell.”

It was his turn for a question. “Did you spot the moment when Clementine gave Fellowes the poison in his drink after the ball?”

“Oh… Um, not exactly, but then she’s an awfully clever old thing.”

“Well, quite!” His smile grew and he humoured me by explaining. “She’d camouflaged the moment nicely; making a big song and dance of pouring out the whisky for everyone when Blunt called us in to the smoking room. It was only after I was certain that she was the killer that I reconsidered that moment and worked out what she’d done.”

He turned then and we recommenced our gentle stroll across the grounds. I was in no hurry to leave.

“It’s bizarre when you think about it,” I reflected. “I suppose she was desperate after her plan to murder the family failed. If she hadn’t tried to cover it up, we… or, rather, you might never have caught her.”

He walked a little more briskly, as if encouraged by my words. “It’s often the way with criminals; given enough time they incriminate themselves. But desperate is the right word for that wretched woman. She didn’t give a damn what happened to her. She was driven by revenge, even after all these years.”

The conversation died out then. I considered that this would be the moment to reveal my whole-hearted adoration of our housemaid, but another more pressing issue came to mind.

“I’m very sorry about Grandmother,” I told him in little more than an awkward mumble. “I was only young when she died but I have the most wonderfully happy memories of her.”

We’d arrived at Todd’s garage and he stopped before entering. “Thank you, my boy. My Katherine was a truly good person – about as far from my despicable sister-in-law as you can get.” He regarded me with great warmth and put one hand on my shoulder. “She would have been immensely proud to see you growing into such a fine young man.”

I probably blushed like a red apple then, as I’m not entirely accustomed to compliments from members of my family. I didn’t manage to get a response out, in fact, before Grandfather said, “Actually, you wait there one moment,” and disappeared into the barn.

I stayed where I was until Todd threw the double doors open for my grandfather to come roaring out astride his Matchless Model H motorbike. Its sidecar was a pale grey to match the long leather coat he’d put on and Delilah was already inside.

“Fancy a lift to school?” He threw a helmet in my direction. I’ve never been very good at catching things and it slipped through my hands and fell to the ground.

Apprehensive, but encouraged by his warm words, I cautiously climbed into the sidecar. Delilah looked a little put out that I was taking up her spot, but she soon settled down on my lap, her long tail wagging.

Grandfather put his gloves and helmet on, and wrapped his fingers around the handlebars “Despite the circumstances,” he began, with a melancholy air, “it’s been a pleasure working with you, my boy. And I don’t want it to end here.”

He started the motor and we rolled along the gravel path. I clung onto the frame of the sidecar, in case he drove anywhere