Death around the Bend (Lady Hardcastle Mysteries #3)

‘You know, Fishy,’ she said, ‘for the longest time I was convinced all this had something to do with your racing team. When poor Dawkins died and we discovered that the motor car had been tampered with, it seemed so obvious.’


‘What on earth did you think was happening?’ asked Mr Waterford. ‘Why did you say nothing?’

‘Because, Monty, dear, you were a suspect.’

‘Me?’ he said. His astonishment and outrage were muted by the need to avoid aggravating the pounding in his head.

‘Of course,’ she said. ‘If it had anything to do with commercial intrigue, you and Viktor were the obvious suspects. And then Viktor copped it . . .’

‘I still can’t quite work out why she killed Viktor,’ said Harry, who had been highly miffed at missing out on all the excitement, and was keener than ever to be involved now. ‘Or Dawkins for the matter of that. Or poisoned the poor dog. Or why she had a go at me – I presume it was she who ran me over in the Rolls.’

‘It was Rebecca Burkinshaw driving the Rolls, Harry, yes,’ she said. ‘But it wasn’t you she was aiming for; it was Jake.’

‘As soon as I learned who she was,’ said Lady Lavinia, ‘I began to think it might have been me she was after.’

‘I’m still lost, old thing,’ said Harry.

‘Let’s start from the beginning, shall we?’ said Lady Hardcastle. ‘It began about a year ago. Actually, no, let’s go back to the very, very beginning.’

‘Dinosaurs and whatnot?’ said Harry.

‘Shut up, dear,’ said Lady Lavinia. ‘Let her speak.’

‘This other document,’ said Lady Hardcastle, holding up one of the sheets of foolscap that Evan had taken from Kovacs’s room, ‘is an old letter from your father, Fishy. He tells Viktor all about your new racing venture, and asks him if he might be persuaded to offer you some advice and guidance. He reminds him of how they met when he accompanied Mr Burkinshaw on a trip to Vienna. He flatters him about his engineering expertise.’

‘Good heavens,’ said Lord Riddlethorpe. ‘I remember Viktor suddenly getting in touch out of the blue. He wanted to hire me to work for his racing team. I told him I was flattered, but I wanted to make a go of it on my own. He seemed to accept it. But then his team started floundering a bit, and he got a little more persistent. Once I decided to launch the team with Monty, he offered to buy us out before we’d even started.’

‘So he was here as a last throw of the dice?’ suggested Mr Waterford. ‘One last attempt to get you to join him?’

‘I suppose so,’ said Lord Riddlethorpe. ‘Though why he was fixated on me, I’ll never fathom. Plenty of other chaps out there who know far more than I do.’

‘But he’d already established a rapport with you. Of sorts,’ said Lady Hardcastle. ‘He must have found it very difficult, as a foreigner, to make any headway with English motor racing folk.’

‘I suppose so,’ said Lord Riddlethorpe.

‘But we’re getting ahead of ourselves,’ said Lady Hardcastle. ‘We know from the letter that he knew the Burkinshaws before the tragedy. He knew the girls. Perhaps he had a youthful infatuation with Mrs Burkinshaw. If we assume that her daughters inherited her looks, she must have been quite the head-turner. Whatever it was, he stayed in touch with the family, and stepped in to help where he could. Rebecca was none too impressed with his efforts, but I doubt she would be impressed by anything very much. He kept a watchful, avuncular eye on Rebecca when the family fell on hard times. There was little he could do from Vienna, but he kept up to date, at least. When he found out that you were looking for a new housekeeper, Fishy, it was the answer to all his problems. He could have a spy in your household, and his friend’s daughter could have a better job. That was about a year ago, I think you said, Fishy? Isn’t that when you engaged Mrs McLelland?’

‘About that,’ said Lord Riddlethorpe. ‘Answered an advertisement when our old housekeeper retired. She’d been working as a governess, but she had excellent references. Spinney spoke to her and recommended her to me. When I met her, I couldn’t fault her. She seemed so competent and organized. It didn’t hurt that she was younger than most housekeepers, and a damn sight more attractive. Just the sort of woman to shake the place up and bring us into the twentieth century.’

‘But she had other motives for being here. Although, I suppose, shaking things up was part of the plan. Working here in your household, she knew that sooner or later she’d get an opportunity to take her revenge.’

‘But if she wanted revenge on the girls,’ persisted Harry. ‘Why did she kill Dawkins?’

‘She didn’t intend to at all,’ said Lady Hardcastle. ‘We all started from entirely the wrong place. We all thought the motor car had been sabotaged as a way of getting at Dawkins, or at least Fishy. We assumed that the killer knew about the race order and had deliberately targeted Dawkins’s motor car. It wasn’t until Armstrong brought me the original slip of paper that I saw our error.’

She showed them all the other sheet of foolscap that Evan had found among Herr Kovacs’s things.

It read:

Ladies’ Race:

1. Lady Hardcastle

2. Mrs Beddows

3. Lady Lavinia

4. Miss Titmus Miss Armstrong

Gentlemen’s Race:

1. Lord Riddlethorpe

2. Mr Featherstonhaugh

3. Mr Dawkins

4. Herr Kovacs

Mr Waterford shall act as Starter and Race Director. Miss Titmus shall be the Official Race Photographer.

‘Do you see?’ she said. ‘I wrote the list in the order we made the draw: ladies first. Anyone who saw the list would reasonably have assumed that we intended to race in precisely that order. Indeed, that actually was our intention. And that means they would have assumed that Jake was going to be in Number 3 for the first race. It was only once we got to the starting line that we had to toss a coin to see which race would be held first.’

‘So Jake was the target all along,’ said Harry.

‘Just so, dear,’ she said. ‘We left the race card in the great hall, and Burkinshaw must have seen it there. It was a simple matter for her to let herself into the coach house by the back door and clip the brake cable. She had access to all the household keys, and who among the servants would dare to question the formidable housekeeper if they happened upon her as she wandered about by night?’

‘Even if she were covered in dust and muck?’ asked Harry. ‘Messy beasts, motor cars.’

‘Never underestimate the power that senior servants hold, sir,’ I said. ‘Butlers and housekeepers are like ships’ captains. Never disobeyed, never questioned. She could dance a pas de deux through the servants’ hall with a bewigged badger and they would bow their heads and get out of her way. A bit of dust and grime would attract no attention.’