‘If only it had been that dramatic. We were in the billiards room for some reason. I think I was looking for Harry and she was looking for her better half. Or her worse half, as I rapidly found him to be. Viktor Kovacs was playing at the table with Monty Waterford, chatting about . . . Oh.’
‘Oh?’ I said, having resigned myself by now to never learning the fate of the frock.
‘They were talking about their motor racing teams. Something about how much money Monty and Fishy had tied up in their prototypes, and how any sort of setback would be disastrous. Viktor said something about being happy to talk about a merger if they wanted to, and Monty said they hadn’t had any setbacks yet.’
‘Yet,’ I repeated. ‘And so Kovacs sneaks out in dead of night and ensures that one of their motor cars does have a little setback, and if their senior driver gets hurt – or even killed – in the process, then so much the better.’
‘It does all seem rather plausible now, doesn’t it?’ she said. ‘We’ve not a shred of proof, mind you.’
‘Then we get some, my lady. We search his room, scour the house and grounds for clues, watch the black-hearted devil day and night until he betrays himself somehow. We haven’t been away from the spying game for so long that we’ve forgotten how to do it.’
She laughed. ‘Very well. It’s all we have to go on at the moment, after all. And the worst that can happen is that we’ll prove him innocent and find that we’ve wasted our time.’
‘Well,’ I said slowly, ‘the worst that can happen is that he’ll catch us in the act and try to bludgeon us to death with a heavy wrench. I’m reasonably sure I could give him what for if he doesn’t get the jump on us, but if he did . . .’
‘You’re right, of course, but I doubt it will come to that. It’s a pity young whatshisname is serving as his valet – a more biddable servant might have been persuaded to keep an eye open on our behalf.’
‘It could be worth sounding Evan out anyway, my lady,’ I said. ‘He might be eager to lend a hand if he perceives it as an opportunity for a spot of mischief. He can watch Mr Waterford while he’s about it – two birds with one stone, and all that.’
‘I shall leave it up to you. Perhaps you should disappear to the netherworld of infernal servitude and see what the lad has to say for himself. We shall formulate our plans and stratagems while we prepare for dinner.’
‘I’ll get down to the servants’ hall at once. Do you want anything while I’m down there?’
‘Not for me, dear, I’m stuffed.’
‘One more thing . . .’
‘Yes?’
‘The rip.’
‘Oh, yes, the rip. I caught it on the rack thing they store the billiard bats in.’
‘Cues, my lady.’
‘Really? I wonder why.’
I found the servants’ hall deserted but for the housekeeper, Mrs McLelland, who was sitting at the table with a pot of tea and the newspaper.
‘Good afternoon, Mrs McLelland,’ I said, pulling out a chair. ‘Do you mind if I join you?’
She lowered the newspaper and regarded me across the top of the half-folded page. ‘Ah, Miss Armstrong,’ she said. ‘Good afternoon. Please make yourself at home. There’s at least one more tea in the pot, if you’d care for one.’
I turned, took a clean cup and saucer from the dresser, and sat down opposite her. As I poured, I said, ‘How does everyone seem to be coping after the tragedy?’
‘Coping?’ she said, folding the newspaper and putting it to one side.
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Something like that can really shake people up. Even the best of us can suffer quite horribly after something dreadful like that has happened. I was just wondering if any of the staff were showing any signs of having been affected.’
She snorted. ‘Want to pull themselves together if they have. I’ll not have any malingering poltroons on my staff. If any of my girls feel the need to sit around feeling sorry for themselves every time something goes wrong, they can do it on their own time and well out of my earshot. We’ve all suffered tragedies, but where would we be if we sat around moping? Get up and make the best of it, I say.’
Heaven help anyone on the Codrington Hall staff who should suffer any manner of shock, I thought. The arrival of Evan Gudger saved me from telling her exactly what I thought of her attitude.
‘Good afternoon, Evan,’ I said cheerily.
‘Eh?’ he grunted.
‘Good afternoon,’ I said again. ‘Are you well?’
‘Well enough,’ he mumbled.
‘Jolly good,’ I said to his retreating back as he disappeared down one of the many subterranean passageways.
‘That young fellow needs to have some manners knocked into him,’ said Mrs McLelland. ‘I don’t know what Mr Spinney is playing at letting him get away with that sort of discourteous behaviour. A spell in the army would do him good. Teach him some discipline.’
‘I understood he’d had a troubled childhood,’ I ventured. ‘Lost his parents.’
She snorted again. ‘People lose family members all the time. Doesn’t turn them all into insolent jackanapes.’
I had clearly caught her on a bad day.
I drained my teacup in one last gulp. ‘Well, I’d best be getting on,’ I said, standing up. ‘Is Mr Spinney in his room, do you know?’
‘Yes, I believe so. Though I’ve one or two jobs that need doing if you find yourself with idle hands.’
‘I shall be sure to seek you out if he doesn’t need me,’ I lied.
I set off in the direction of Mr Spinney’s rooms, but turned off once I was out of sight. I made my way instead to the boot room, where I was sure I might find Evan, or at least someone who knew where he might be. As it turned out, he wasn’t there, but one of the young lads was able to point me in the right direction. I found him loitering in the kitchen yard.
‘Can I help you?’ he asked truculently.
‘As a matter of fact,’ I said, in my cheeriest, friendliest voice, ‘I rather think you might be able to.’
He looked at me quizzically for a moment. ‘Has that old witch sent you to give me what for?’ he asked.
I laughed. ‘No,’ I said. ‘But she’s not your most ardent admirer.’
‘None of ’em is,’ he said. ‘Everyone’s always on my back for something.’
‘Have you ever wondered,’ I asked, ‘whether that might be because you go so very far out of your way to antagonize them?’
It was his turn to laugh. ‘I reckon you might be right at that,’ he said. ‘But they’re all such . . . such . . .’
‘It can seem that way,’ I said before he could find whatever insulting word it was that he was looking for. ‘But you might give them the benefit of the doubt once in a while. You might find that they have your best interests at heart after all.’
‘I doubt it. They just want to make sure everyone knows their place and stays in it. It gets so boring sometimes, I has to do something, you know, to stir ’em up a bit.’
‘Perhaps I can help with that.’
His quizzical look returned. ‘Oh?’
‘I have a little mission that might amuse you,’ I said, and outlined our plan for keeping an eye on Herr Kovacs.