A Quiet Life in the Country (Lady Hardcastle Mysteries #1)

‘Then those are our nine suspects,’ she said, decisively. ‘We shall start with them. Florence, set up the crime board.’

‘Yes, my lady,’ I said, rising from the chair.

‘The “crime board”?’ asked Colonel Dawlish with just the tiniest trace of amusement in his voice.

‘The crime, as you so clearly heard, board,’ said Lady Hardcastle.

‘It’s her special thing,’ I said. ‘Nod and smile and play along.’

‘Set up my “special thing”,’ she said, sternly, ‘and then come and help me dress. A detective, even a clumsy amateur who relies on her “special thing”, must maintain an air of professionalism and I hardly think that conducting an investigation in my nightdress conveys the right impression. Help yourself to more tea, George dear, and if you’re hungry I’m sure you can find something in the pantry.’

Colonel Dawlish smiled for the first time since he had arrived and Lady Hardcastle and I left the room together to prepare for the day’s work.





The rest of the morning was spent in the dining room as Colonel Dawlish told us everything he knew about Hubert Parvin’s friends. Lady Hardcastle sketched each one in turn while I pinned the sketches on the board and made notes under each.

By noon we had images of all ten:

Hubert Parvin - Juggler, deceased

Augustus Noakes - Lion Tamer

Prudence Hallows - Trapeze Artist

Abraham Bernbaum - Strongman

Jonas Grafton - Clown

Veronica Prentice - Fat Lady

Wilfred Carney - Dwarf

Adeline Rosethorn - Contortionist

Sabine Mathieu - Equestrienne

Mickey O’Bannon - Prize Fighter





We knew already that Parvin had been mauled to death by lions and that he had had a none-too-secret affair with the lion tamer’s wife a number of years ago. There were tensions between assorted other members of the troop, too, but his descriptions of the arguments and sniping seemed to me to be typical of a large group of friends who spent almost every waking moment in each other’s company so I wasn’t sure how significant they were.

We learned that Miss Veronica Prentice, the fat lady, was actually “Mrs Carney” and that she and Wilfred, the dwarf, were just about the most happily married couple that Colonel Dawlish had ever met, with a kind word for everyone and always willing to do anything they could to help. They were, he said, almost like parents to the group. We put them to the bottom of our list of suspects for now.

Colonel Dawlish was unable to think of any motive whatsoever that the remaining seven members of the inner circle might have for murdering Hubert Parvin. Niggles, teasing and petty jealousies aside, they all got on well as far as he knew. We’d already established that any member of the circus would have been able to open the lion cage – it was a matter of safety that everyone should know where the key was kept. And as for opportunity... even those in shared caravans or tents would have been able to slip away in the middle of the night without anyone knowing anything about it. In the stories, the detective would always be able to unpick someone’s alibi, but after a hectic and exhausting day’s work setting up the circus, “I was in bed asleep” would stand up to even the closest scrutiny; so was everyone else and who would gainsay you?

We had been talking for hours when to my immense relief Lady Hardcastle declared it to be lunchtime and sent me off to prepare something quick and light for us all to eat.

I returned with a large plate of sandwiches which we ate as we continued working.

‘What about,’ I said, enlivened by the renewed energy given me by my cheese sandwich, ‘the possibility that someone wanted falsely to implicate Noakes in Parvin’s murder? What if we’re looking for motives for murdering Parvin, but that crime was just a means of getting Noakes hanged?’

‘Why not just kill Noakes?’ said Colonel Dawlish. ‘Why not lock him in his own lion cage and let the lions get rid of him instead of leaving it for the hangman?’

‘Because... er...’ I had to admit I was stumped.

But Lady Hardcastle wasn’t so quick to dismiss it. ‘No, it’s an intriguing notion. Execution is public punishment. The Crown points its judicial finger and says, “Guilty,” for all to hear. Perhaps the killer was prepared to sacrifice Parvin in order to have Noakes suffer the shame and humiliation of public accusation before he was finally punished for whatever it was he had done.’

‘It would take a deranged, sadistic mind to do that, Ems,’ said Colonel Dawlish.

‘Given the nature of the murder itself, I’d say sadistic derangement can be assumed as fact. This would just make it disturbingly calculating as well.’

‘I suppose you’re right,’ he finally conceded.

‘I so often am, dear,’ she said and took another bite of her sandwich.

‘So, then, Colonel Dawlish–’ I said.

‘“George”, darling, please,’ he interrupted.

‘Yes, Colonel Dawlish, of course,’ I said and he rolled his eyes. ‘So what we’re looking for is someone who might have felt themselves to have been wronged by Mr Noakes and who would have wanted them publicly humiliated and punished, if not for that, then for something else.’

‘The only person I can think of, Miss Armstrong,’ he said, ‘would be our strongman, Abe Bernbaum. Did you see our posters?’

‘How could we miss them?’ I said. ‘They were everywhere.’

‘That was certainly the intention. Whose names did you see on them? Can you remember?’

‘There was Mr Bradley and Mr Stoke,’ I said.

‘And Abraham Bernbaum,’ said Lady Armstrong, ‘Britain’s strongest man. I remember it clearly because I wondered whether you had any evidence to back up such a bold claim.’

‘To be truthful, we probably don’t,’ said Colonel Dawlish. ‘But the point is that his is the only name on the bill. He’d been quite the draw in the London circus shows but the audiences were drying up a little. We were beginning to struggle too, so ours was a marriage of convenience. We offered him steady work, a decent wage and a place to stay, and he gave us a famous name for the bill. We all won.’

‘It sounds like you did,’ said Lady Hardcastle. ‘But I presume all was not sunshine and flowers within the family.’

T E Kinsey's books