‘Apart from Mr Verma’s servant,’ I said.
‘He was my main suspect for a while,’ he said. ‘But then I asked myself why Verma would have come to you and told you the story if he already had the gem. He’d have done a moonlight as soon as they had hold of it and would have been heading east before the sun was up. Richman and Haddock are a couple of chancers out of their depth. Montgomery-Sewell is a tricky little thief but seems genuinely fond of her colleagues so I can’t believe it’s her. The – what did he say they were – the “rhythm section” seem like pleasant young blokes with nothing on their mind but girls and music. No one saw anything. No one knows anything. We’ve got a murder weapon and a motive, but no real suspects. I don’t mind telling you, ladies, I’m stumped.’
‘Well,’ I said. ‘When you put it like that–’
There was a knock at the door and once again the cheerfully respectful face of Jenkins peered round. Lady Hardcastle waved him in.
‘Come on in, Jenkins,’ she said. ‘What can we do for you?’
‘It’s more a matter of what I may do your you, my lady,’ he said, proffering his silver tray. ‘Another telegram has arrived.’
‘Good show!’ she said and took the telegram from him.
‘Will there be a reply, my lady?’
She read the message, which seemed rather a long one, and a minute passed before she said, ‘No, Jenkins, there’s no reply. This is everything I needed.’ She looked at her watch. ‘It’s coming up to teatime, Jenkins. What are the arrangements today?’
‘We were planning to serve it on the terrace again, my lady. Shall you be joining us?’
‘Today, Jenkins, we all shall. But would you mind delaying it for a short while?’
‘That would be a matter for Sir Hector, my lady. He’s rather particular about serving tea promptly at four o’clock.’
‘No matter, then. But perhaps you could make discreet efforts to ensure that all the house guests are present and that no one leaves before I arrive. Would that be acceptable?’
‘I shall do my utmost, my lady.’
‘Thank you. And do you by any chance know where Miss Clarissa is?’
‘I believe she’s in her room, my lady. Grace, her lady’s maid, has just gone up to her.’
‘Splendid, splendid,’ she said. ‘Thank you, Jenkins, your help is greatly appreciated, as always.’
‘Thank you, my lady. Will that be all?’
‘More than enough, thank you.’
‘Thank you, my lady,’ he said with a bow, and left.
‘What’s in the telegram, my lady?’ asked the inspector.
‘All will be revealed in the fullness of time, Inspector,’ she said. ‘I need to confirm one or two things with Clarissa Farley-Stroud, and then I believe you shall have your man.’
‘Well I have nothing of my own,’ he said. ‘So I suppose I should allow you this one indulgence.’
‘I promise you won’t be disappointed, Inspector,’ she said as she made her way to the door. ‘But if you are, I promise to be properly contrite and to eat as much humble pie as possible.’
She swept out of the room, leaving the inspector and me equally bemused and bewildered.
‘What do you think she’s up to?’ asked the inspector.
‘Blowed if I know,’ I said. ‘She’s a woman driven by whim and caprice, but usually also by perspicacity and insight, so I generally tend to let her get on with it.’
‘All in all, miss, I’d say from my brief experience of her that that’s probably wise. Have you worked for her long?’
‘About fourteen years now,’ I said.
‘And is it a life that suits you?’
‘Very much so, Inspector, yes.’
‘My sister is in service,’ he said. ‘But I’m not sure if I could do it. I like being my own man.’
‘Sadly, I’m not in a position to be my own “man”,’ I said. ‘But you still have to answer to your superiors, you still have to do someone else’s bidding from day to day.’
‘True enough, miss. But I do have a certain amount of freedom to conduct myself as I please in the execution of my duties. A certain amount of autonomy, you might say.’
‘As do I, Inspector. More, perhaps, than most servants. Ours is a… I hesitate to say “unique” working relationship, but it ’s certainly unusual. We have shared adventures over the years which most could scarcely imagine. It broke down some of the traditional barriers between an employer and a servant.’
‘I’ve noticed the way you speak to each other,’ he said with a chuckle. ‘It’s rather refreshing, to tell the truth.’
‘It causes quite a few raised eyebrows and more than a little disapproving tutting, but we carry on regardless.’
‘Well, you seem happy in your work and there’s not many as can say that in this day and age,’ he said. ‘When this case is wrapped up – and I’m rather coming round to the idea that your mistress might well wrap it up this afternoon – I should like to treat you both to a drink or two and hear the stories of your adventures.’
‘That would be delightful, Inspector, thank you. Perhaps Mrs Sunderland would like to come, too?’
‘Actually, miss, I rather think she would. I think she’d like you.’
‘Then I shall put you in the mistress’s appointments book and we shall sup together as friends one evening before the weather turns.’
‘I shall look forward to it.’
I was about to ask the inspector about his own family, but there was another knock at the door and Dewi the footman came in.
‘Begging your pardon, sir, but there was a telephone call for you,’ he said. ‘Gentleman couldn’t stay on the line so he asked me to say…’ He screwed up his face in concentration, trying to remember the exact words. ‘Tell the inspector that Superintention Wickham has been delayed at Swindon by a fallen tree on the line and has had to return to London. Hold Sewell locally until someone from the Met can pick her up.’
‘Thank you… Doughy, is it?’ said the inspector.
‘Close enough, sir,’ said the young man, followed by some rather harsh words in his native Welsh.
‘Watch your tongue, lad,’ I said in the same language. ‘You never know who might be listening.’
He blushed crimson. ‘Sorry, miss.’
The inspector looked puzzled and said. ‘Right, well, can you please find Sergeant Dobson and ask him to bring Miss Montgomery to me.’
‘Yes, sir. Right away, sir.’
He hurried out.
‘What was all that about?’ asked the inspector.
‘He cast doubt on your parentage, suggested what he imagined your mother did for a living, and then expressed his contempt for the English in general.’
‘The cheeky little beggar,’ he said, slightly hurt. ‘My mother was a schoolteacher.’
‘It’s just his little act of rebellion, inspector. Like a safety valve on a steam engine.’
‘I understand that, miss. But, I mean. Really.’