‘Yes, yes, he did, didn’t he? And now we know that Roz is romantically entwined with Monty Waterford. It’s looking black against Monty, as Inspector Sunderland might say. How about this? Viktor wasn’t giving up on his takeover plans, and was becoming a nuisance. Monty wanted to have a stern word with him. Stern enough that there might be fisticuffs. He couldn’t do it in the house, so he needed to get him alone somewhere. He got Roz to write a note to lure him out to the coach house in the dead of night.’
‘And he was prepared for violence because he knew Herr Kovacs was a desperate man, who had already sabotaged one of the motor cars,’ I said.
‘It’s not bad, but it’s not terribly convincing, is it?’ she said dejectedly.
‘It’s not. We still have no proof that Herr Kovacs really did sabotage Number 3. We have no real proof that Mr Waterford or Mrs Beddows were doing anything other than what one might expect them to be doing . . . Oh, oh.’
‘What? What?’ she said, smiling.
‘I forgot to tell you. Mrs Beddows’s outdoor tweeds are missing.’
‘I’m sorry, dear, you’ve lost me.’
‘Betty asked me about the body and about blood. Then she said that Mrs Beddows has a tweed skirt and jacket of which she is particularly fond. The clothes are missing.’
‘And she has assumed the worst,’ she said. ‘They’re in a bin somewhere waiting to be burned because they’re covered in Viktor’s blood.’
‘That seemed to be her fear,’ I admitted.
‘It would be convenient, but there are still too many holes. We need more facts. More observations. It’s a frightful cheek, but I think it might be worth telephoning Inspector Sunderland and asking him to get one of his minions to do some research for us. I want to know a little more about this motor racing business. And a great deal more about Viktor Kovacs.’
‘And about the school, please, my lady.’
‘The school?’
‘The school that Lady Lavinia and the others went to.’
‘I can’t see what that has to do with anything, dear, but I’m sure they’ll be able to dig something up for you.’
‘Thank you, my lady.’
‘And we both need a word with your agent, the boy Evan Gudger.’
‘We do. I’ll see if I can arrange a discreet meeting. In the meantime, do you fancy a cuppa?’
‘I’m absolutely gasping. What was it that Gertie said the other day? “I could drink a muddy puddle through a farmer’s sock.”’
‘A colourful lady,’ I said. ‘But they have a china tea service for guests here. I’ll be back in two shakes.’
I was in the bedroom passage, about to step through the door leading to the servants’ staircase, when I heard a commotion downstairs. I closed the door, and made my way instead to the head of the main staircase.
‘. . . your hands off me, you clodhopping oaf. My husband knows the Chief Constable. You’ve not heard the last of this.’
It was Mrs Beddows’s voice.
Mr Waterford was more conciliatory.
‘Calm down, Roz, darling,’ he said. ‘We’ll get all this sorted out in a jiffy. You’ll see.’
I took a few steps down the stairs, the better to see into the hall. I was in time to catch sight of Sergeant Tarpley leading Mrs Beddows and Waterford, both in handcuffs, out through the front door. Inspector Foister made to follow them, but he was hailed by Lord Riddlethorpe.
‘I say, Inspector!’ he called.
‘Yes, my lord,’ said the inspector.
‘What’s the meaning of this?’ said Lord Riddlethorpe. ‘Where are you taking my guests?’
‘Mr Waterford and Mrs Beddows are under arrest for the murder of Mr Viktor Kovacs, my lord. They’ll be held at the station in Riddlethorpe until a motor car can be arranged to transport them to Leicester, where I can interrogate them properly. If charged, they’ll appear before the magistrate on Monday.’
‘Really, Inspector, I do think you’ve exceeded your authority in this matter. You can’t possibly have grounds for holding them.’
‘My authority has been clearly defined by Act of Parliament, my lord. And my duty in this matter is clear: I have grounds to suspect these two persons of involvement in a capital crime, and I must arrest them.’
He turned defiantly towards the door.
‘But surely—’ said Lord Riddlethorpe, but the inspector was already outside with the door closing behind him.
‘Blast!’ said Lord Riddlethorpe as he stamped back into the house.
Tea would have to wait – Lady Hardcastle would want to know about this. I returned to her room.
‘Oh dear,’ she said when I’d finished my report. ‘That will never do. I know we reached the same conclusion only moments ago, but we dismissed it almost as quickly. I ought to go and talk to Fishy.’
‘Would you like some help getting changed?’
‘What? Oh, I see. No, hang it. Without Roz to look down her nose at us, we’ll all be free to wear the same clothes all the way to dinnertime.’
‘Right you are, my lady. Am I to come with you?’
‘Ordinarily, yes, but I think we need to divide our efforts for maximum efficiency. I should like you to winkle Evan Gudger out of whatever hidey-hole he’s secreted himself in. He must know something.’
‘Meet you back here at five, my lady.’
Tracking Evan down proved to be no easy task. I started in the servants’ hall, but only because it was where I hoped to find someone who might know of his whereabouts. I had no real expectation of finding him there.
Mrs McLelland was sitting at the table, cradling a cup of tea in both hands.
‘Good afternoon, Mrs McLelland,’ I said cheerfully.
She looked up. It seemed for a moment as though she couldn’t quite fathom where she was, and I got the feeling I had dragged her back from some faraway place.
‘Oh,’ she said. ‘Good afternoon, Miss Armstrong. Have you heard the news?’
‘About Mrs Beddows and Mr Waterford?’ I said.
‘Yes. That such a thing should happen under his lordship’s roof. And with his own so-called friends responsible.’
‘We can’t be certain yet that they are,’ I said.
She frowned. ‘What? Oh, “innocent until . . .”, and all that. But we both know that the police never risk this kind of scandal without being certain of their case. She’ll swing. And a good thing, too. Nasty, evil woman, that one.’
I might have asked her what had happened to the ‘no gossiping about the guests’ rule, but I said nothing – I wasn’t in the mood for confrontation. I didn’t share her confidence in the police’s concern for avoiding scandals, but I decided to say nothing about that, either. And for all that I didn’t much care for Mrs Beddows, nor did I share Mrs McLelland’s desire to see her hang. Overeager policemen had been making mistakes ever since there had been policemen, and this particular policeman had an axe to grind. I’d seen the look in his eyes when he talked about what the ‘sinners’ had been getting up to. He strongly disapproved of Mrs Beddows and Mr Waterford.
‘I know I can rely on someone as experienced as you to keep the below-stairs gossip under control,’ she said, clearly back to her normal self. ‘It doesn’t do to let the younger ones get too far above themselves.’
‘Of course,’ I said.
‘That good-for-nothing Evan Gudger is the one most likely to stir up trouble. You seem to have quite a rapport with him – perhaps you could set him straight. Spinney won’t say anything.’