The Spirit Is Willing (Lady Hardcastle Mysteries #2)

‘By accident, Inspector?’ I said. ‘Is that common?’

‘Not so as you’d notice, miss, no, but the surgeon is insistent that we don’t rule it out.’

‘And why’s that?’ said Lady Hardcastle.

‘Because in spite of his painstaking efforts, using the entirety of the baffling array of chemical tests available to him, he has no idea what the poison was.’

‘Oh,’ I said, dejectedly.

‘Quite, miss, quite. And without knowing exactly what poisoned Mr Carmichael, the surgeon refuses to discount the possibility that he might have unknowingly ingested something deadly without any skulduggery or mischief being involved.’

‘Oh.’ Lady Hardcastle echoed my dejection.

‘“Oh” indeed, my lady,’ said the inspector. ‘Looking on the bright side, at least he’s ruled out the common poisons: arsenic, strychnine, even cyanide. And the reports from the laboratory say that there was nothing untoward in his pie or his cider. Although they’re not completely convinced that the meat was beef as advertised.’

‘Oh,’ said Lady Hardcastle again. ‘We were rather counting on the poison pointing us to the killer. We’ve been asking the local farmers what poisons they keep.’

‘Excellent work, my lady,’ he said. ‘Exactly what I would have done. But no interview is ever wasted. Impressions and feelings can take you just as far as facts in the quest for the truth.’

‘I don’t disagree, Inspector,’ she said. ‘But we can’t take our impressions to a magistrate. Facts are so much more compelling, wouldn’t you say?’

He chuckled. ‘I do like a nice cold fact, my lady, yes. But they seem a bit thin on the ground in this case.’

‘Quite,’ she said.

‘What do you suggest we do next?’ I asked, trying to buck them both up. ‘We were thinking of going into Chipping Bevington to interview the staff at The Hayrick.’

‘Well, I’d not stop you if your hearts are set on it,’ he said. ‘But I went over there myself when I had a spare afternoon on Saturday.’ He took another sheet from the folder and passed it to me.

I read it through quickly. ‘Oh,’ I said. ‘They saw nothing, they heard nothing, they know nothing. It might be something of a wasted journey, my lady.’ I passed her the report.

‘Well pish and the fiddliest of sticks,’ she said. ‘I’m stumped.’

‘For the moment, my lady,’ said the inspector, ‘so am I. Unless a witness comes forward and tells us exactly what happened, I’m rather afraid to say that this might have to remain unsolved.’

‘That will never do, Inspector,’ said Lady Hardcastle with sudden passion. ‘Never do at all. I refuse to be beaten. I’m going to assume that Mr Carmichael was poisoned by person or persons unknown and I’m going to make it my business to know them. We owe his widow and son that, if no one else.’

‘Unless it turns out that they were the ones that killed him, my lady,’ said the inspector sagely.

‘Oh,’ she said. ‘That would be doing them a disservice after all. But no.’ Her resolve returned. ‘If they did him in then they must be brought to justice. This is England. We don’t just ignore the law when it suits us or when we find that we like the criminal more than we like his victim.’

‘Hear hear,’ said the inspector with a smile. ‘I just wanted you to consider the consequences, that’s all. More often than not in a case like this, it’s the wife’s doing.’

‘We must let things unfold as they may, Inspector,’ she said. ‘We shall solve this.’

‘I’m pleased to hear it,’ he said. ‘May I have another slice of that cake, please, Miss Armstrong? It’s quite delicious.’

I helped him to another slice of Madeira and poured more coffee for all of us.

‘How’s Mrs Sunderland?’ said Lady Hardcastle while I poured. ‘Is she well?’

‘Very well indeed, thank you, my lady. She sends her regards.’

‘Thank you, dear. And you must pass my best wishes on to her, too. We haven’t seen her since the espionage trial.’

‘No, my lady, and she was quite taken with you and your brother. We’d never been to London together, either, so all in all it was quite the adventure. I’m sure we promised to invite you round for dinner. I’m sorry we haven’t managed it.’

‘It’s been quite the week for apologies of that sort, dear, I shouldn’t worry about it. We’re still trying to arrange to host Sir Hector and Lady Farley-Stroud for supper but that seems trickier than one would have imagined. I say, you wouldn’t care to join us? Make a bit more of a party of it?’

‘It’s a lovely offer, my lady, but I should need to ask Mrs Sunderland first. I shouldn’t like to impose Lady Farley-Stroud on her without at least a warning.’

Lady Hardcastle laughed. ‘Gertie’s a sweetie; they’d rub along splendidly. But don’t fret. I say, how about we treat you to supper in Bristol? There must be a restaurant in town that you’ve been dying to go to. It would save poor Mrs Sunderland from having to cater for two extra mouths and it would give us the chance to get together, away from murderers and spies.’

‘That’s very generous of you, my lady, I shall consult Mrs Sunderland. But I should expect that she’ll still insist on having you round at some point. She’s a fine cook and she does like to entertain.’

‘That’s agreed, then,’ said Lady Hardcastle delightedly. ‘We shall do both. Flo, dear, make a note.’

I sighed and rolled my eyes. ‘My lady, I should love to. But…’

‘Oh, I know, I know,’ she said exasperatedly. ‘I have the blessed notebook.’ She began hunting through the confusion of drawing paper and pencils on the table beside her.

‘It was a gift from Inspector Sunderland, my lady,’ I said. ‘One would have thought that you’d at least pretend to take better care of it while the poor man is in the room.’

‘I much preferred her when I was ill, Inspector,’ she said. ‘She wasn’t nearly so impertinent when she was having to feign concern for me.’

‘You weren’t ill, my lady,’ I said. ‘You were injured. And I was just as impertinent as ever, it’s just that the laudanum made you too doolally to notice.’

The inspector laughed. ‘I have missed you two,’ he said. ‘It’s good to have you properly back among us, my lady.’

‘It was the good friends I’ve made here that gave me the strength to recover, Inspector. Thank you,’ she said. ‘I say, look at the time. Do you have to dash off? Or can you stay for lunch?’

‘I’m not expected back at the station until much later, my lady,’ he said. ‘If it wouldn’t be an imposition, lunch would be most welcome.’

I took that as my cue to tidy away the coffee things and prepare lunch.