Malice at the Palace (The Royal Spyness Series Book 9)

 

“On the evening after Princess Marina arrived, she and I went to dine at Buckingham Palace,” I said. “Countess Irmtraut was left here alone. Now, a friend of mine heard I was staying here and decided to pay me a surprise visit. She tells me that she knocked on the door but nobody answered so she assumed I must not be in residence.”

 

Guarded faces stared at me, still waiting to find out whether they were in trouble.

 

I smiled at them. “I can see now that, the way this apartment is built, it would be hard to hear a knock at the front door from this room if you were all having your supper.”

 

“There is supposed to be a bell, my lady,” the footman said. “But it doesn’t seem to be working. We’ve got an electrician coming to take a look at it.”

 

“So none of you heard a knock that evening?”

 

Heads were shaken. “No, my lady,” was murmured.

 

“And nobody saw anybody walking around outside, or heard the sound of a motorcar?”

 

“Your maid said she saw someone in the courtyard,” one of the girls said. “But that was right after we told her about the ghosts. Ever so upset, she was.”

 

I smiled again. “Yes, my maid tends to be rather impressionable. So nobody else saw the white figure in the courtyard?”

 

“We don’t have any windows that look out on the courtyard, my lady,” the same girl replied. “And I don’t think we’d have heard a motorcar outside either. I’m sorry we didn’t answer the door to your friend. Please tell her about the bell not working.”

 

“Of course. It’s certainly not your fault and my friend only paid a surprise visit on the off chance she’d see me. No harm done. But one more thing, before I let you get back to your porridge. Did any of you go out that evening?”

 

“No, my lady,” the footman said. “It was raining, if you remember, and we wouldn’t have been allowed an evening off when royalty was in the house.”

 

“What about Countess Irmtraut? What did she do all evening?”

 

“We served her dinner and then she had coffee in the salon,” one of them said. “She wasn’t very happy. Didn’t like the food.”

 

“I take it she didn’t go out in the rain either?” I asked.

 

Heads were shaken but one girl said, “She must have popped out for a minute. I don’t know why. But when I came to clear away the coffee she was standing by the door. I could see raindrops on her hairnet and she was wearing a jacket.”

 

“What time was this?”

 

“Must have been about nine, my lady.”

 

I smiled at them all then. “Thank you. I’m sorry to have interrupted your breakfast.” And I left them glancing at each other uneasily.

 

 

 

WHAT REASON COULD Countess Irmtraut have had for going out into the rain? And why had she denied it? I realized I should pass this information along to DCI Pelham, but I was loath to cast suspicion until I was absolutely sure. I think it must have had something to do with sticking up for my own kind and an instinctive dislike of the DCI. Should I confront Irmtraut and tell her I knew she had been out? I’d have to wait for the right moment, but it was looking more and more as if I might just have a plausible suspect. But as to the opportunity to slip Bobo a drink with Veronal in it—when could that have happened? The servants did indicate that they could hear nothing from the kitchen if they were eating their meal. And if Irmtraut answered the front door, could she have invited Bobo in, fed her a drink, killed her and dumped her body outside all without being seen or overheard? I supposed it might be possible. The servants clearly weren’t enamored with Irmtraut and probably stayed as far away as possible without being obviously rude. However, Irmtraut wasn’t to know that. If she’d invited Bobo in and then killed her, she was taking an enormous risk.

 

 

 

I HAD A cup of tea brought to me in the morning room, read the newspapers, which included pictures of myself with Princess Marina at the play the previous night, and waited for the others to show up. Eventually they both did. Irmtraut looked rather bleary-eyed.

 

“I did not sleep well last night,” she said. “This place does not feel agreeable to me. I hear it is haunted. I myself spotted a ghost, I think.”

 

“You did? Was it a white lady?” I asked.

 

“No. A fat man,” she said shortly. “He walked through a wall.”

 

“I think that would have been King George the First,” I said.

 

“I don’t care which king he was, I do not want him walking through my walls.”

 

“I also found it hard to sleep last night,” I said. “So how did you get to sleep in the end? Do you have any sleeping drafts with you?”

 

“The draft in my room does not help me sleep,” she said angrily. “It blows in under the door and hits me in the face. It is most disagreeable.”