Death around the Bend (Lady Hardcastle Mysteries #3)

We really didn’t have time for all this, but I needed him on our side, and I decided that brusquely dismissing his question would do us more harm than good in the long run.

As briefly as I could, I told him the full story, of Mrs Beddows’s bullying, and of Betty’s dismay at the scandal that would follow news of the affair and the arrest. ‘And in the strictest confidence,’ I continued, ‘I can tell you that she was immediately engaged by Miss Titmus. I think they’ll get along splendidly, but we should probably wait until it’s all been properly agreed before we say anything.’

‘I apologize,’ said Mr Spinney. ‘One should never listen to servants’ gossip. The problem is that we always have quite the best gossip, so it’s hard to ignore it. But I’ve diverted you from your purpose. You wished to see me?’

‘I did,’ I said. ‘Would you be kind enough to come up to the library, please? Lady Hardcastle wishes your help with an urgent matter.’

‘Of course, of course,’ he said as he stood. ‘She should have rung down.’

‘It was quicker this way. And there’s a need to be discreet at the moment.’

‘Oh dear. I do hope it’s nothing too terrible. You should have said so straight away.’

‘Not to worry,’ I said. ‘I’m glad I had the opportunity to clarify Miss Buffrey’s situation. But I think we should hurry.’



By the time Mr Spinney and I returned to the library, Miss Titmus was already there with Lord Riddlethorpe and Mr Waterford. Harry and Lady Lavinia arrived soon after.

‘Quite the gathering,’ said Harry as he hobbled to one of the armchairs and flopped into it. ‘An impromptu party, sis? Where’s Roz?’

‘As always, Harry, dear, you’ve hit upon the nub of it all quite by accident,’ said Lady Hardcastle. ‘“Where’s Roz?” is the question we need most urgently to answer.’

‘I get the feeling it’s not a game, though,’ said Harry.

‘I’m afraid not. This time, it’s deadly serious. And I’m not being melodramatic. Well, I am, I suppose, but I really do fear that Roz is in danger.’

Six people in various states of agitation started talking at once.

‘Quiet, please!’ called Lord Riddlethorpe. ‘Let Emily speak.’

‘Thank you, Fishy,’ said Lady Hardcastle. ‘I believe I know who our murderer and mischief-maker is, and I think they have Roz. I think they mean to do her harm.’

Another clamour erupted.

Once again, Lord Riddlethorpe’s voice cut through the hubbub. ‘Quiet! Who has her, and what do they intend to do?’

‘I think Rebecca Burkinshaw has her. And I think she means to hang her.’

‘Rebecca who?’ asked three male voices at once. Miss Titmus and Lady Lavinia simply gaped.

‘I’ll tell you the complete tale later,’ said Lady Hardcastle. ‘But for now, action is more urgent than understanding. Fishy, I need you, Monty, and Helen to search the house. Guest rooms and family rooms, upstairs and down. Every nook and cranny.’

Lord Riddlethorpe seemed happy to allow her to take charge, and nodded his agreement.

‘Spinney, please gather some reliable servants and search every inch of your domain. Attic rooms, cellars, private rooms, and offices. Leave no door unopened.’

The butler, too, nodded in acknowledgement.

‘Harry, you and Jake stay here. If anyone finds anything, deal with it as you see fit, but report to Harry and Jake, so that we know what’s going on. And remember that “we’ve not found her” is important information, too.’

‘And you, sis?’ asked Harry.

‘Armstrong and I will search the outbuildings. Are we clear?’

There were murmurs of assent.

‘Fishy,’ said Lady Hardcastle, ‘do you have a pistol?’

‘No,’ said Lord Riddlethorpe. ‘We just keep shotguns.’

‘No good,’ she said. ‘Too imprecise. No matter. Off you go, then. And hurry. If I’m right, we have until twenty to seven at the absolute latest.’

‘Twenty to seven?’ said Mr Waterford.

‘Sunset.’



Lady Hardcastle and I left by the front door and hurried around the outside of the house.

‘This whole ghastly business began in the coach house,’ said Lady Hardcastle as she strode towards the stable yard. ‘It would be gruesome, but fitting, if it were to end there, don’t you think?’

‘I’m not at all sure what to think any more, my lady,’ I said. ‘I’m still trying to come to terms with what’s been going on. The answer’s been right under our noses all along, but it still boggles my mind; I don’t know about yours.’

‘My poor old mind is in a perpetual state of bogglement, dear; you know that well enough by now. Ah, look, the doors are shut. I’m not certain whether that’s a good sign or bad.’

‘There’s no way to tell from out here,’ I said. ‘Shall I nip round the other side to cover the back door?’

‘Good thinking. Give the old signal when you’re in place, and we’ll go in together.’

‘Right you are, my lady. I might have to force my way in, but at least no one will get out while I’m kicking the door down.’

I trotted softly across the flagstones of the old stable yard, past the Rolls-Royce, and then worked my way round to the back of the building. The rear door was closed, but I couldn’t tell if it was locked.

One of my less-celebrated skills is the ability to imitate the call of the jackdaw. It’s not the sort of thing one might do as a party piece, but it had served us well as a secret call over the years – no one thinks anything of the sound of such a common bird. Even China has a type of jackdaw, whose call could only be distinguished by an experienced ornithologist.

I readied myself for action, and let loose the high-pitched ‘jack-jack’ signal. Almost at once, I heard the sound of the coach house doors opening. I turned the handle of the rear door, but found it locked. This was no time to worry about damaging Lord Riddlethorpe’s property, though, so I took a step back and kicked at the door near the lock.

Old wood is the burglar’s friend, and the soft, damp wood of the frame around the lock was no match even for my tiny Welsh foot. The door burst open, and I rushed inside to find . . . three motor cars and a disappointed widow.

‘She’s not bally well here,’ said Lady Hardcastle.

‘So I see,’ I said. ‘Where now?’

‘There’s nothing for it – we’ll have to search all the sheds and other outbuildings. This is going to take longer than I thought. I was so certain it would be the coach house.’

And so we searched. We turned the potting sheds, the tool sheds, even the greenhouses, upside down, but there was no sign of Mrs Beddows.

After three quarters of an hour, Lady Hardcastle was certain we had looked everywhere.

‘We’d better get back to the library, and hope that the others have had more luck,’ she said. ‘It’s already nearly six o’clock, and I fear we’re running out of time.’



The others were already in the library, waiting anxiously for our return.

‘Well?’ said Mr Waterford impatiently as we entered. ‘Have you found her?’

‘No,’ said Lady Hardcastle, ‘I’m afraid we haven’t. I take it you haven’t, either.’