Murder at the Hunt Ball : A 1920s Historical Cozy Mystery Page 13
They hurried across the yard toward the stables and walked in just as Lotte was straightening. She turned and looked lost for words.
“What’s happened?” Evie asked. “What did you find?”
Lotte held the lantern up and stretched her other hand out.
“Is that blood?”
Nodding, Lotte looked around for something to clean her hand with. “I checked his head. There’s a wound in the back.”
Something that could have been determined with a simple examination if only the doctor had committed to it. “Does it seem odd that the doctor did nothing more than check his pulse?”
Lotte shook her head. “I noticed something odd about him. When he kneeled down, he hesitated. I think he recognized Gory George Stevens.”
“I keep forgetting he has, or rather, he had a reputation.”
“I suspect the doctor wanted to minimize his involvement,” Lotte suggested.
“Surely you’re not saying he fears some sort of retaliation from George’s criminal cronies.”
“It’s possible.”
They heard the sound of sirens approaching.
A sense of urgency swept through Evie. “We only have a few minutes. A part of me thinks we should just step away. But we already know something really bad happened here. How did he get that head wound?”
One by one, they turned toward the stall.
Evie shuddered. “I’d hate to think Mighty Warrior had anything to do with this. Since there’s a head wound, we have to assume there is a weapon. The killer must have taken it with him.” She glanced around. “Or used something and replaced it.” Even with the limited light, she could see a variety of tools in the stables that could be used as a deadly weapon.
“The stall had been securely locked,” Tom reminded her.
Evie found that most puzzling. “Someone could have hit him over the head and then locked the stall door.”
“Why?” Lotte asked. “To make it look like an accident?”
“To blame the horse. That would be my guess.” Picking up the spare lantern, Evie edged toward the stall. “Let’s try to be thorough. This might be our only chance before the police arrive.”
Limited by what they could see under the light from the lantern and without actually going inside the stall, they tried to cover every corner they could see with the naked eye.
Evie gasped. “There. I think I see something in the middle of the stall.” Mighty Warrior hadn’t moved from the corner and he still looked slightly agitated.
“I see it,” Lotte said. “It looks like broken glass. They might be his spectacles.” She looked over her shoulder at the body and confirmed it. “I didn’t actually notice them missing until now. Wait… I see something else.”
“Yes, I see it too, but what is it?” Evie held the lantern as far as she could.
“I’m not sure but it looks like a syringe,” Tom said.
The sound of motor cars coming to a stop had them all stepping back. A conversation ensued. Evie imagined Sterling Wright had met the constables outside. Moments later, the stable door opened.
A police officer in a suit walked in and, removing his hat, he took in the scene. “I’m Detective Inspector Evans. Would you all step outside, please. An officer will take your names.”
All three moved without questioning the detective’s request. Although, in Evie’s opinion, he should have asked a few basic questions to establish their reasons for being there as well as for the sake of expediency since they might have seen something of value.
Outside, there were two constables holding up lanterns. Another one greeted them. He had a small notebook in hand and a pencil ready to take their names.
Providing their details without argument, they then headed back inside only to stop when a voice boomed across the yard.
“Wait a moment.”
They all turned and saw the detective signaling for them to return.
Before they reached him, he had a brief word with the constable and Evie imagined he asked him for their names.
“Lady Woodridge,” the detective said before identifying the others.
Evie thought he looked too young to be a detective. Especially one in charge of a possible murder investigation. He had a clean-shaven face. His clothes were neatly pressed. In fact, she saw no sign of having hurried to put himself together. Even his shoes were spotless and shiny.
This man, Evie thought, liked to take care of details.
“I’d like to know what you were all doing out here.”
He looked at all three of them. Evie waited for him to rest his attention on Tom, but he didn’t. Instead, he continued to look at each of them.
That struck her as unusual. In her experience, men tended to direct their serious questions to men.
When the others didn’t answer straightaway, Evie said, “Our friend, Caro, suffered an injury earlier. Someone struck her. We wanted to see if we could find anything to lead us to the identity of her attacker.”
The detective slipped his hands inside his pockets. “Is that when you contacted the local constabulary?”
Evie glanced at the others. “We were consumed with concern for Caro.” And, she thought, they had been more preoccupied with instigating their own search.
He gestured with his head toward the stables. “Do you know the man’s identity?”
Lotte adjusted her monocle. “Gory George Stevens.”
“I assume you found him.”
They all nodded.
The detective continued to study them.
The constables holding the lanterns stood beside them so Evie assumed the detective had no trouble reading their expressions.
Leaning slightly forward, he asked, “Were you surprised to find him?”
Evie spoke up. “Yes, indeed. We were.”
The detective crossed his arms. “Lady Woodridge, you seem to be very well composed.” He turned to Lotte. “As are you, Miss Woodridge.”
It took Evie a moment to remember Lotte had disguised herself as her cousin Ophelia Woodridge and had provided the constable with that name. She remained in character and had somehow managed to keep the monocle in place. How would she explain herself if questioned further? Did she have a right as a lady detective to safeguard her identity while working a case?
Lotte raised her chin. “Lady Woodridge and I have seen worse. During the war, Lady Woodridge made Halton House available as a convalescent home for injured soldiers.”
“You mean, for injured officers,” the detective corrected.
Not seeing the point to his remark, Evie said, “As a matter of fact, no. While other houses were set up specifically for officers, we made a point of welcoming soldiers. Many of our local men were injured and we felt it only right that they should recover close to home. I am personally not immune to the shock of seeing a dead body, but as my cousin pointed out, I have seen worse.”
“Yes, I see. However, that was during the war. This is a social occasion. I assume you were not expecting to find a dead body in the stables.”
Evie shivered. “Perhaps my response has been stymied by the weather. It is rather cold out here.”
“And that’s what also puzzles me, my lady. I would have expected someone of your stature to send someone else out here to investigate.”
“I was upset by Caro’s injury and couldn’t just sit about doing nothing.”
“I see.”
Did he really? Evie wondered how long it would take for the detective to warn her off and what tone he would employ to do so. Her name had already been linked to one major criminal case. It would be naïve to think the detective had not read about it.
He turned to Lotte. “Miss Ophelia Woodridge.”
Lotte adjusted her monocle.
“Or is it Lotte Mannering? You bear a striking resemblance to the lady detective.”
“Pardon?” Lotte asked.
The edge of his lip lifted. “Yes, the jig is up. Now, would you all mind telling me what you were
doing here?”
In the spirit of co-operation and transparency, Evie wanted to tell the detective everything. But where would she start? “Detective, this is a crime scene and we don’t wish to take up any of your valuable time. However, we were expecting some sort of trouble. Just not something as grave as this or, indeed, as the assault on Caro.”
They heard a motor car approaching. As it drew closer, Evie recognized it as another police vehicle. It came to a stop and a couple of men in suits jumped out followed by two more constables.
The detective excused himself and went to have a word with them. The new arrivals then went inside.
“I’m guessing they have been directed to deal with the guests,” Lotte said.
The detective returned. “Now, where were we? Oh, yes. You were all about to share your insights.”
Evie could not hide her surprise. The police did not normally accept outside interference in their investigations, nor did they invite it. In fact, they discouraged it.
He gestured toward the stables. “Follow me.” He turned and led them back to the scene of the crime.
Evie leaned in and whispered, “How much are we telling him?”
Lotte shrugged. “Let him ask the questions.”
“Are you suggesting we refrain from volunteering information?”
“I’m suggesting we play it by ear. He’s already caught us by surprise once. I don’t know about you, but I’m confused and that could work against us.”
Evie agreed. “Yes, I’m having difficulty reading him. Perhaps he belongs to a new school of thought. How old do you think he is?”
“No older than thirty.”
Shaking her head, Evie whispered, “I hope he’s not trying to get us to incriminate ourselves. We should be very careful what we reveal to him.”
“So much for the truth setting us free,” Tom mused.
The detective stood aside to let them through. Inside the stables, a constable had taken care of lighting more lanterns.
“You will find a broken pair of spectacles in the stall,” Lotte offered without preamble. “And what appears to be a syringe.”
The detective looked at Evie.
Taking it as a prompt to speak, Evie cleared her throat. “We found him inside the stall and we felt we needed to determine if he needed assistance.”
The detective’s eyebrow cocked up.
“However,” Evie continued, “we were concerned about the horse, Mighty Warrior. He looked agitated.”
The detective turned to the constable. “See if there’s a free stall. We’ll have to move the horse. Get one of the stable hands to help you. And be careful what you step on. It could be evidence.”
“That’s very sensible. Why didn’t we think of that?” Evie whispered. Frowning, she stepped back and looked outside. She could see several constables. Looking toward the house, she saw a couple of people standing by the window and assumed they were servants.
With all this commotion, Evie thought, why hadn’t the stable hands come out to see what was happening? She assumed they slept nearby.
The detective fixed his attention on them again. “You were saying.”
So far, Evie thought, they’d divulged the steps they’d taken. She assumed anyone else would have done the same. What else could they tell him?
“Do I need to prompt you with more specific questions?” he asked.
Evie nodded. “It would help.”
“You said you came out here to see if you could find something or someone responsible for your friend’s attack?”
“That’s correct.”
“Do you have any suspicions you’d like to share with me?”
Once again, they were all surprised by his question.
He seemed to notice this. “I ask because you have all clearly been here all evening. Did you notice any suspicious behavior? Perhaps someone missing from the gathering?”
Evie nodded. “One person has been missing all evening. Archie Arthurs. He’s a guest here and is staying at the house. We haven’t actually asked. For all we know, he decided he wouldn’t attend the ball.” Looking at Lotte, Evie encouraged her to fill in the rest.
Lotte shrugged. “You might as well know we are on a case.”
“I see. And is this something you can share with me?”
Evie expected him to lose his patience but, instead, he appeared to be intent on getting as much information out of them as possible.
Lotte told him about the threatening letters.
“And you are all in disguise now?” he asked.
“Only me,” Lotte said. “Mr. Winchester and Lady Woodridge have come as themselves. Oh, there’s also Lady Carolina Thwaites. She’s actually Lady Woodridge’s maid.”
His gaze slid over to Evie. He looked at her for a long moment. “Your lady’s maid is disguised as…”
“My cousin, thrice removed. She’s played that role several times to great acclaim. At least, from those in the know.”
“And what, precisely, did you hope to accomplish?”
“We only wanted to observe.” Evie bit the edge of her lip to stop herself from saying more. If Henrietta had been there, Evie knew without a single doubt she would have divulged everything they knew, including the fact they had engaged the services of Mrs. Green and had witnessed a possible affair in the making. Evie found herself smiling because Henrietta would not have left a single detail out. Indeed, she would have made a point of mentioning the donkey and cart.
Digging inside his pocket, the detective produced a small leather-bound notebook. “These threatening letters you mentioned, do they contain some sort of demand?”
They all shook their heads.
“Not in any detail. However,” Lotte said, “we think Marjorie Devon has been asked to do something.”
“Such as?”
Evie interjected, “Detective, this is all supposition on our part.”
“I’d like to hear it.”
“If I may,” Tom said.
“By all means,” the detective invited.
“We know Gory George Stevens wanted to purchase Mighty Warrior. We also know Sterling Wright didn’t wish to sell the horse. We suspect the threatening letters have something to do with George Stevens’ desire to get the horse back.”
The detective tapped his pen against his notebook. “You think he used Marjorie Devon to influence a different outcome.”
“Quite possibly.”
Evie brushed her finger on her chin. “Yes, but where does that syringe fit in?”
“Indeed.” The detective walked over to the stall.
As he leaned over and looked inside, Tom explained how they had found the stall door closed with the latch secured in place.
The detective surprised them for a third time by asking, “Do you think someone else closed it?”
They all shrugged.
“There might be a group of people involved,” Evie revealed. “We observed several people missing from the ball.”
The detective swung around. “When did that happen?”
After Evie explained how she had been dancing with Tom and had been keeping her eye on everyone staying at Hillsboro Lodge, the detective asked for the names of those missing.
Evie did her best to remember. Turning to Lotte, she asked, “Did I miss anyone?”
“Archie Arthurs. You noticed him missing from the start.”
The constable returned and had a private word with the detective who nodded.
“Has something happened?” Lotte asked.
To their utter astonishment, the detective shared the information. “The stable hands are all fast asleep. The constable has been unable to stir them awake. It appears they have been drugged.”
Chapter 17
The stable boys, drugged?
Had someone wanted to make sure George Stevens wouldn’t be disturbed in the stables? Or… Had someone or a group of people made sure they wouldn’t have any witnesses to the crime they’d planned on committing?
“Does this suggest someone planned to kill him?” Evie heard herself ask, only to say, “That is, if he was indeed killed.”
“We will have to wait for the official verdict. However…” The detective looked over his shoulder. “There is a wound on the back of his head. It is about the size of a horseshoe.”
“Surely… Surely you’re not suggesting Mighty Warrior killed him.” Even as she spoke, Evie knew it could be more than possible. She hurried to the horse’s defense. “It would explain the syringe. The horse might have felt threatened.” Frowning, Evie looked at Tom.
“Countess? Are you about to say he meant to kill the horse?”
“Sterling Wright said he wouldn’t sell him Mighty Warrior. Consider this… If George Stevens couldn’t have it, then no one else would have it.”
“I think we should tell the detective the rest,” Tom said.
“There’s more?” the detective asked.
Mentioning the fact everyone who had gone missing had then returned to the ballroom only to disappear again, Evie finished by saying, “This sounds like a conspiracy.” And, she thought, it could all somehow be linked to the threatening letters. “Before someone attacked Caro, she heard a couple of people going into a room. There might have been a third person.”
They heard a motor vehicle stopping outside the stables.
“I think perhaps you should all return inside. That will be the ambulance, here to take the body away.”
Halfway back to the house, Evie murmured, “Are either of you surprised by the detective’s behavior?”
Lotte nodded. “I’ve never experienced anything like it. As you said, he must be a new breed of detective.”
Tom smiled. “Either that or Evie’s reputation has preceded her and he wants to tap into her insight.”
Before entering the house, Evie drew the attention of one of the constables. “Please let the detective know we can be contacted at Halton House.” Turning to the others, she said, “I don’t see the point of remaining here any longer. Besides, I still believe Caro’s life might be in peril. Someone might think she could identify them. I would like to take her home where she will be safe.”