‘Making your way home from your assignation?’ suggested Lady Hardcastle.
‘You have a charming way of making our perfectly innocent meetings sound sordid and grubby, Lady Hardcastle.’
‘How would you describe it, then?’ she asked.
‘A cup of tea and a chat,’ he said. ‘She was trapped in a loveless marriage with a charmless bully. He had chased all her other friends away and no one else had the nerve to stand up to him. I was all she had for company other than her son, and Morris tried to spend as much time away from the house as he could.’
‘But you didn’t speak to Carmichael on Wednesday,’ said Lady Hardcastle. ‘Was he far away? How did he look?’
‘Like a miserable old goat.’
‘But in himself, Mr Lock, did he look ill?’
‘Come to think of it, he did look a bit less robust than usual. Did you meet him when he was alive? Tall, thin man, but quite vigorous. Now you ask, I suppose he looked a little… diminished on Wednesday.’
‘Pale?’
‘I’ve no idea, I’m afraid, he must have been a couple of hundred yards away across a field, but there was something about his walk. Why?’
‘I’m not sure,’ said Lady Hardcastle. ‘Mrs Carmichael said he’d been ill, that was all. I was just wondering whether it might have been an illness sufficient to kill him. I just thought you might have got an impression, something that might give us more of an idea of the state of his health.’
‘Well, I’m no doctor, I’m afraid. And I didn’t get a terribly good look. Just an impression, you know.’
‘I do,’ she said. ‘And then on Thursday you sold your sheep and retired to The Hayrick for lunch?’
‘In a nutshell.’
‘Do you have many friends there?’
‘Where? The pub? A fair few, I suppose.’
‘Despite…’ she said, hunting for the right phrase.
‘Despite my background, you mean?’ he said.
‘Quite.’
‘We’re all farmers, my lady. Once the frosts come and the lambs are freezing, we’re all in it together. When the storms come and blow down the pig sheds, we all rally round. No one cares about the Royal Engineers or the family name then, I’m just another farmer, a neighbour in need, or a pair of strong arms to pick up the pieces.’
‘I see,’ she said. ‘And were many of your friends at The Hayrick?’
‘Most of them, I should say. It’s always lively on market day.’
‘Yes, I remember,’ she said.
‘Ah, yes, I was wondering where I’d seen you. Heard of you, of course, but I couldn’t place where I’d seen you. You were there with Lady Farley-Stroud.’
‘We were.’
‘Is it always the same crowd, Mr Lock?’ I said.
‘More or less,’ he said. ‘Not everyone is there every week, but it’s not like we take roll-call.’
‘You’ve been very patient,’ said Lady Hardcastle, putting her cup emphatically back into its saucer. ‘But we mustn’t take up any more of your time.’
‘My pleasure, I’m sure,’ he said, with a nod and a wry smile.
Lady Hardcastle stood and Mr Lock and I rose, too.
‘Thank you for speaking to us, Mr Lock. May we call again if anything else comes up?’
‘Of course, my lady,’ he said. ‘My door is always open.’
He saw us to the door and waited there, watching, as we tiptoed along the path to the waiting car at the gate. Bert had already cranked the engine to life and was settling into the driver’s seat as we approached.
‘Where to now, m’lady?’ asked Bert as we clambered into the back of the motorcar.
‘Crikey, Bert,’ said Lady Hardcastle. ‘Do you know, I haven’t the faintest idea. There are still a couple of people we need to talk to, but I hadn’t really made any plans beyond these two visits. What do you think, Armstrong?’
‘I’ve no idea, my lady,’ I said. ‘Home for lunch and a ponder?’
‘Would you think it impertinent of me to make a suggestion, m’lady?’ said Bert, regarding us warily in his rearview mirror as he set off.
‘Not at all, Bert, suggest away,’ said Lady Hardcastle.
‘Lady Farley-Stroud did say this morning that she would welcome another visit. She seemed to be hinting heavily that I should try to persuade you to come for lunch. Would that be acceptable?’
‘Bert,’ said Lady Hardcastle delightedly, ‘that would be nothing short of absolutely perfect. To The Grange for lunch and don’t spare the horses.’
And with a crunch of gears and a fierce revving of the engine, we were off.
Jenkins answered the door almost as soon as Lady Hardcastle had rung it, and led us straight through to the dining room with barely a word of greeting. Lady Farley-Stroud was at the sideboard, filling her plate.
‘Lady Hardcastle, my lady,’ said Jenkins, ushering us inside.
‘Emily! Come on in, m’dear. So glad you could come. Grab a plate. Help yourself. Plenty of nosh.’
Lady Hardcastle kissed her in greeting and picked up two plates, handing one to me. She didn’t ask if Lady Farley-Stroud minded if I ate with them but I tried to be as unobtrusive as possible.
‘Will Hector be joining us?’ she said as she helped herself to a slice of pie.
‘No, m’dear. Gone up to Gloucester for the day. Not back till supper time. Help yourself, Armstrong,’ said Lady Farley-Stroud. ‘Don’t stand on ceremony.’
I put a few bits and bobs on my plate and sat down next to Lady Hardcastle.
‘So, my dears,’ said Lady Farley-Stroud. ‘Tell Auntie Gertie all. What have you discovered?’
Lady Hardcastle recounted the details of our two meetings while Lady Farley-Stroud listened attentively.
‘Gracious,’ said Lady Farley-Stroud when she’d finished. ‘So that means Lock killed him for love. How romantic.’
Lady Hardcastle laughed. ‘How did you get there, darling?’ she said.
‘It’s plain as the bulbous nose on Hector’s face, m’dear. He and Audrey Carmichael are in it together, putting strychnine in the old boy’s food so they can be together.’
‘Arsenic would be better for that,’ said Lady Hardcastle. ‘Lots of low doses over time, slowly poisoning him, making it look like he was just ill.’
‘Oh,’ said Lady Farley-Stroud, crestfallen. ‘But Alford had the arsenic. So it was him?’
‘But what if,’ said Lady Hardcastle with a mischievous smile, ‘the Carmichaels used arsenic as their rat poison and there was plenty at their own farm? Or Lock was lying? Or Audrey slipped some strychnine in his porridge before he went to market? What if it was young Morris Carmichael? We’ve not spoken to him yet. And there was such chaos at The Hayrick that day that it could have been anyone there – people we’ve not even thought of talking to.’
‘Oh, Emily, you’re just teasing me now.’
‘A little tiny bit, dear, yes. But do you see? It’s not nearly as simple a matter as one might hope. We do still need to speak to Morris. And we’re still waiting to hear from the police surgeon about the nature of the poison – if indeed there was any poison at all.’
‘How on earth do you keep it all clear in your head? I swear you must be the cleverest person I ever met.’