‘Morgan, for one. He says the brakes didn’t work. Says someone fiddled with ’em.’
‘You should all know better than to tittle-tattle,’ said Mrs McLelland. ‘The police are satisfied that it was an accident, and that should be good enough for us.’
‘But—’ said the maid.
‘That’s enough!’ said Mrs McLelland sharply. ‘Get on with your work. Those candles should have been taken up hours ago.’
She put down her teacup with a clatter and left the room. An awkward silence followed. Mr Spinney sighed.
I put my own teacup down a great deal more gently. ‘Well, Betty, old chum,’ I said. ‘I ought to be getting on, I suppose. I have an important errand to run, but then I thought I might watch the tennis. Will you be free to join me?’
‘I should think so,’ she said. ‘I’ll see you later down by the tennis court.’
My errand, of course, was to get a report from Evan Gudger. A good spy looks after her agents, makes them feel valued. Encourages them. I found him, as I’d expected, loafing in the kitchen yard.
‘Good morning, Evan,’ I said cheerily.
He mumbled a reply.
‘Are you well?’
He mumbled again.
‘Splendid,’ I said. ‘Did you manage to do as I asked?’
He looked at his shoes. ‘As a matter of fact,’ he said after a few moments’ pause, ‘I did. I had a good old poke around Herr Kovacs’s room. And Mr Waterford’s too. I didn’t reckon he should be left out.’
I didn’t reckon it was the first time he’d rummaged through their things, either, but I knew better than to say anything. Instead, I said, ‘Well done. Did you find anything?’
He reached into the breast pocket of his jacket and produced a scruffy scrap of paper. ‘I copied this off a letter on Herr Kovacs’s writing desk.’
I took the paper. Evan’s untidy handwriting was difficult to read in places, but if he had copied it correctly, it was a letter from Herr Kovacs offering to buy the racing team.
‘This is very interesting, Evan, thank you. You’re certain you copied it exactly?’
‘You think I’m an idiot like everyone else?’ he snapped. ‘Just because I don’t write so good.’
‘I meant nothing of the sort. I shall be reporting this to my mistress, and I need to be certain of the source. We’ve put a lot of trust in you. Checking isn’t a sign of mistrust.’
‘Yeah, well, they all think I’m thick. But I ain’t.’
‘I don’t give a tinker’s cuss what “they all think”, Evan,’ I said. ‘You’re working for me now, and I’m just making certain.’
‘I heard ’em talkin’, too,’ he said after another pause.
‘Who?’
‘Kovacs and Waterford. I was puttin’ Mr Waterford’s shirt studs on when Herr Kovacs comes in. “Ah, Monty,” he says, all chummy, like. “Have you had time to think about my offer? With the bad publicity that will follow the accident, you know Lord Riddlethorpe stands no chance. I could be the one to save you from ruin.” And Mr Waterford says, “We’ve only just announced the team, Viktor. We’re not going to sell.” It was somethin’ like that, anyway.’
‘I say, Evan, well done,’ I said. I gave him a few coins from my purse. ‘Keep your eyes and ears open, and I’ll make sure there’s more. I need you to do one important thing for me right away, though.’
‘Yes?’ he said, somewhat more enthusiastically than usual. ‘What’s that?’
‘You can direct me to the tennis courts.’
‘Ah, Flo, there you are. Be a love and pass me that towel. I’m all of a pother, as they say round our way.’
‘You look . . .’ I lowered my voice so as not to be overheard. ‘To be honest, you look a horrific, sweaty mess, my lady. Are you sure you’re all right?’
Lady Hardcastle laughed. ‘It turns out that while one never forgets how to strike a good solid forehand smash, the heart and lungs do tend to grow more reluctant to keep the old body moving about at a sufficient pace to make proper use of it.’
‘You poor old thing,’ I said, handing her the towel. ‘Imagine how bad it will get when you actually are old.’
‘Well, quite,’ she said, sitting on one of the benches beside the court, fanning herself with the towel.
I looked across the grass to where Mrs Beddows was talking animatedly to Miss Titmus. ‘Is Mrs Beddows winning, then?’ I asked.
‘Is she, heck! I’m demolishing her!’
‘Well done, you,’ I said. ‘Actually, that would explain her thunderous demeanour. I don’t fancy Betty’s chances when she turns up. It’s odds-on where the wrath will be directed.’
‘We shall have to keep her attention elsewhere, then. We’ll be saving her from herself – it just doesn’t do to bully the servants. In public, at least.’
‘If they only knew, my lady.’
‘Indeed. Is there any cordial left in that jug?’
I poured her a glass.
The gentlemen were playing doubles on the adjacent court, interrupted intermittently by Lord Riddlethorpe’s exuberant Dalmatians. It seems they had been pressed into service as ball girls, but were having trouble understanding the limits of their duties. As well as retrieving balls that had gone out of play, they were also attempting to catch some of the slower-moving shots on the court itself.
Lady Lavinia was looking on with an indulgent fondness that wasn’t always directed towards the dogs.
‘I thought the ladies would be playing doubles, too,’ I said. ‘Why isn’t Lady Lavinia playing?’
‘It would have been much more fun, wouldn’t it?’ Lady Hardcastle said as she drank. ‘We were ready to start – I was partnered with Helen – but when Harry pitched up in his flannels, Jake went weak at the knees and drifted off to watch the chaps. Helen didn’t really want to play anyway, so it was left to me and Roz. Luckily, she couldn’t hit an elephant’s backside with a banjo, so my honour has been saved.’
‘Not an entirely wasted morning, then.’
‘Not in the least. What about your morning? What news from your agent?’ she asked. ‘Did he prove worthy of your faith in him?’
‘I think I’ve already said that I had no faith in him whatsoever. As it transpires, though, I was wrong. He turned up trumps. Or it appears he did. He might have made it all up, of course.’
I handed her the crumpled copy of the letter, and recounted the brief conversation I’d had with Evan in the kitchen yard.
‘Other than a couple of spelling mistakes, it certainly seems like a formal business letter,’ she said. ‘Do you think Evan is capable of composing such a thing on his own?’
‘He might be surly and resentful, but he’s also bright and self-confident,’ I said. ‘He’s quick-thinking and cunning. He’d make a decent petty criminal – or spy, for that matter. But I think he lacks the education and experience to be able to come up with something like that on his own. He might have had help, of course, but I’m beggared if I know where from.’