A Death at the Church Page 6

  ‘And, of course, you had a police chaperon with you,’ said Hans. His tone suggested a statement, but I could see a question in his eyes. After all, I had not immediately refused his offer nor taken serious offence. In fact, I appeared to have picked up his implied idea of my becoming his mistress remarkably quickly. He thought of me as a sheltered young woman, whereas the reality of working on the Crown’s business had opened my eyes to many aspects of life that he would not have dreamed I knew. Mistresses were a mere peccadillo of gentlemen compared to the sleazy businesses of brothels.9 From my perspective he had been all too explicit, and I had been too shocked to find the words to answer him. That he would willingly deceive Richenda was one thing; after all, his previous mistresses had been between his marriages. But that he would think I would agree to such a thing? That he would actually ask... No, Hans had sunk a great deal in my opinion.

  Richenda’s voice drew me from my thoughts. ‘My brother does tend to verge on the melodramatic. Although, of course, it was a trying day for both of us. But I have quite got over it.’ I saw her chin tremble as she said this. ‘Bertram should be thanking his lucky stars that Euphemia is returned safe to us.’

  ‘Well said, my wife,’ said Hans. I turned my head to throw him as disgusted a look as I dared. I swear he flinched slightly. Whatever I said, I was now certain Hans would back me up on anything that did not include the true version of events and his part in them.

  Richenda blushed under her husband’s praise. They had not been seated close together, but perhaps out of this dreadful incident would come some good and they would reforge their marriage.

  ‘Joe, why don’t you go and fetch Mr Stapleford,’ said my mother.

  Joe nodded eagerly and ran off.

  ‘He will hardly refuse the boy,’ said my mother. ‘I suggest when he returns we all make ourselves scarce so my daughter and Bertram can speak.’ She patted me awkwardly on the shoulder. ‘While you are speaking with him, I will get Glanville to draw you a bath and then you can rest. You must be exhausted after your ordeal.’

  ‘Thank you, Mama,’ I said obediently. ‘If it is not too much trouble, I would quite like some breakfast. I have been travelling since early this morning and have yet to eat.’ I regretted the words as soon as they were out of my mouth, because, of course, everyone then began clambering to know where I had come from. They were all speaking at once, but how I was to deal with them without pretending to faint was beyond me. I did not fancy falling off my chair here as I knew the carpet to be particularly thin.

  However, all conversation stopped when Bertram appeared in the doorway. Joe stood slightly behind him, for all the world like a guard dog determined not to let his sheep escape the field. ‘I’ll get the kitchen to send you up some fresh stuff,’ said Richenda and brushed past Bertram. I suppressed a smile. I knew all too well she would take this opportunity to order a separate tray for herself to replace the repast she had to leave behind.

  ‘If you have no objection, Mr Muller, I will visit your guest,’ said my mother. ‘An older woman’s counsel will be helpful. Joe will go to the library and do his Latin.’ Joe’s face was a picture of outraged innocence, but he had hardly time to draw breath before my mother was hustling him out. Hans left last. He gave Bertram a manly clap on the shoulder, but his expression as he passed me was both wary and worried. He shut the door behind him.

  ‘Did Rory not tell you where I had been taken?’ I said, forestalling Bertram. I knew full well Rory McLeod had no idea where I had gone, but I needed to know what he had said. A small part of me wished Fitzroy was here to see how I was doing. The larger part of myself hated that I would have to lie to Bertram and wanted to put that moment off as long as possible.

  Bertram’s jaw dropped and his mouth formed a perfect O. I had not previously noticed the pleasing symmetry of his face. He put a hand down on the table and made contact with an egg plate. He lowered himself into a seat. I passed him a napkin and he began to wipe his hand.

  ‘Did he?’ I persisted.

  ‘Rory? My Rory McLeod was here? But we decided not to invite him to the wedding.’ Bertram’s anger appeared to have been swallowed by his confusion. He continued to wipe his now clean hand.

  ‘He was the police official summoned by the local constabulary. They did not have anyone of sufficient seniority to conduct the enquiry. I thought he would have questioned you along with the other witnesses?’

  Bertram shook his head. ‘I only saw ordinary bobbies taking statements. McLeod? Are you sure? You haven’t suffered a concussion, have you?’

  I smiled at him. ‘No, not at all. Apparently, after leaving you, he approached Fitzroy for a position and I presume that he, in turn, opened the way for Rory into the police force. He is a methodical man, and working with us, perhaps he acquired the desire to see justice done more in our world.’

  ‘Well, if he wanted to do that, he certainly wouldn’t have wanted to work with that man. He didn’t hurt you, did he?’

  ‘Rory? No. He wasn’t exactly kind, and he made it perfectly clear he thought me capable of killing. He has quite a low opinion of me.’

  ‘Does he, by Jove,’ said Bertram, the colour coming back into his cheeks. It cheered me to see him firing up in my defence. ‘But no, I didn’t mean him. McLeod wouldn’t hurt a fly. I meant the other one.’

  ‘Fitzroy?’ I said astonished. ‘He would never hurt me – or any female. He has a great regard for my sex.’

  Bertram made a harrumphing noise.

  ‘So, what were you told about my absence? It had not occurred to me you would be left in the dark.’ In fact, it had not occurred to me at all to think of the people I had left behind. I decided to blame this on shock.

  ‘The local sergeant said you had been officially released without charge and that you had been taken away by an official to finalise matters. He couldn’t give me the man’s name, but he described him.’

  ‘So that’s how you knew Fitzroy was here.’

  ‘He gets damn everywhere,’ said Bertram. ‘I thought we had agreed to remove him from our lives.’

  I changed the direction of the conversation. ‘I hope you do now believe I am innocent.’

  ‘Yes, well. It was all a bit of surprise opening the door and seeing you covered in blood. At first, I thought you were hurt, didn’t take in the fact that there was a body at your feet until Merry nudged me.’

  ‘She noticed first?’ I said.

  ‘No idea. Can’t speak for the others, but I was floored. I mean... no one in the right mind would say my brother was a good man. I imagine most folk disliked him. A few of us knew how damn well evil he was. We know he killed our father. Maybe more. Wouldn’t have blamed you if you’d offed him in self-defence. I know he’d treated you badly too, I just didn’t know how badly. The scene made me wonder if it was worse than you’d told me. If you’d snapped. But whatever it was, you should have come to me, Euphemia. To me. Not tried to deal with it on your own. I thought we were partners in all things. I thought you trusted me.’

  At this I stood up and went to kneel at his feet. I took one of his hands in mine. He tried to tug me to get up, but I resisted. ‘Oh, my darling, I would trust you with my very soul. I found Richard dying. He wanted to me to pull out the knife and when I did, his blood...’ I faltered as I remembered the moment. ‘His blood...’ I got no further as Bertram stood and pulled me into his arms. He kissed me passionately. I responded with equal pleasure and relief. Being in his arms felt like coming home. When he parted his lips from mine, I laid my head on his shoulder and closed my eyes. If only everything could go back to what it was. My poor love had no idea that a shadow now stood between us, and I would have to lie to him for a while longer. Would I ever tell him the truth? Would he ever forgive my choice if I did?

  I was so wrapped up in my own thoughts that I barely realised Bertram was speaking. ‘So, a small ceremony then. It will have to be after the funeral, but I thought...’

  I raised my head. ‘Bertram,
I cannot possibly marry you until I have cleared my name.’

  Bertram released me and took a step back. ‘No, Euphemia. Leave this to the police. Don’t get involved.’ He took a deep breath. ‘It’s that bloody man, isn’t it? He’s convinced you you have to find my brother’s killer. Well, I don’t want you to. He was a twisted, evil cad and I am glad he’s dead. Just let it lie. I beg you.’

  Tears that had clung to my eyelashes broke free as I shook my head. ‘I can’t.’

  Bertram raised his fists to the ceiling. ‘That bloody man. Will he never leave us alone!’

  Our conversation finished where we had started, with Bertram storming out of the room.

  * * *

  9 I had once almost accidentally joined one...

  Chapter Seven

  Bertram absented himself from dinner that night. Richenda and Hans sat at opposite ends of the table. My mother sat on one side. Little Joe had been banished to the nursery to eat. I could imagine his disgust.

  ‘Did the Bishop not remain?’ I asked my mother as we began our soup.

  ‘He wanted to, of course,’ said my mother, ‘but ecclesiastical business pressed. I, however, had no intention of leaving until my daughter was located, and so I told him.’

  ‘I am sure he understood,’ said Richenda.

  My mother sniffed ever so slightly. ‘I have a great regard for my husband, but I do not allow him to control my actions.’ She tried the soup. ‘Very nice, Richenda, a good beefy stock. Your cook has let the bones caramelise properly. But, yes, the Bishop had expected me to stay. Indeed, I believe he would have done so too, if he could. Dear man.’

  Richenda frowned as she worked her way through the labyrinth of my mother’s speech.

  ‘I am so very sorry you did not know I was safe,’ I said carefully. ‘It never occurred to me that you would not be given full details.’

  ‘It was Bertram who went up to the police station,’ said Richenda. ‘When we heard nothing from you the following morning, he telephoned the station and was told you had been released, but no more. He got himself into quite a state.’

  ‘No one could persuade him not to go up there himself and demand answers,’ said my mother. ‘He made himself ill,’ said Hans. ‘Oh no,’ I said.

  ‘He is quite well now,’ interrupted my mother. ‘It was merely a small turn.’ She shot Hans a gimlet look. Hans caught my eye.

  ‘Indeed, he was fortunate. We must hope nothing occurs to disturb him further.’

  In my mind’s eye I imagined sticking my fork in Hans’ hand. He still feared I would reveal his uncouth offer. I would have to speak to him.

  ‘Who now heads the investigation?’ I asked.

  ‘Oh, it’s all solved,’ said Richenda. ‘It turns out that when they looked into it, the police found there had been several sightings of a tramp in the countryside. They assume he had come into the church for warmth, or maybe he intended to rob the poor box. Only Richard found him. Well, you know my twin, he would not have dealt kindly with the man.’

  ‘It is unfortunate he had a knife,’ said my mother. ‘Or the worst sustained would have been bruises on both sides.’ She took a good swallow of wine. ‘I abhor man’s innate tendency to violence.’

  ‘As do we all, Mama,’ I said. ‘But where did this tramp find the knife?’

  ‘Oh, it came from our kitchen,’ said Richenda easily. ‘Cook had the windows open with all the baking she was doing. The police believe he must have reached through one and lifted it.’

  ‘To be clear,’ broke in Hans, ‘they do not believe the man intended to murder my brother-in-law, but that he took the knife to facilitate an easier life for himself. For the cutting of wood and such things.’

  It was on the tip of my tongue to ask where the knife was now. I could not recall it clearly. ‘How extraordinary,’ I said. ‘How fate and fortune intertwines.’

  My mother nodded. ‘You should talk to your step-father about that. He has many interesting things to say on the matter of luck and misfortune.’

  ‘Perhaps we should turn to happier topics,’ suggested Hans. The dinner continued in a slightly awkward manner, but I had no doubt that at least my mother and Richenda welcomed my return.

  After dinner we all retired early to our rooms. I believe we all sought the normality of routine as much as we sought not to indulge in further conversation. I did not believe the story of the tramp for one moment and I doubted the others did either. However, there appeared to be an unspoken acceptance of the ridiculous idea. I mourned Richard no more than the others, but the easy lie of his death troubled me. I decided to take a turn about the gardens before I settled for the night. My mind raced with thoughts and I knew I would only toss and turn if I went to bed.

  The moon shone three-quarters full gilding the gardens with silver. The scent of jasmine hung heavy on the air and somewhere an owl hooted. The night had turned unusually mild. As I paced, I grew gradually calmer. I shuffled the information I had gained in my mind. I had an itch at the back of my brain. I knew I had heard something important. At that moment, Hans appeared around the edge of a hedge. I started and jumped back. I kept enough of my awareness not to scream. ‘Whatever are you doing?’ I asked.

  ‘I might as you the same, sister? Did you not hear at dinner that there is a tramp on the loose who has killed?’

  ‘I am not your sister...’

  ‘But you and Bertram have made up, have you not? And you will be?’

  ‘Can I help you with something, Hans?’

  ‘I spotted you from my study and I was concerned for your safety.’

  ‘I have found this walled estate to be most safe during my time here,’ I said. ‘I assume if this tramp remains unapprehended you have put further measures in place. You take such good care of the people in your charge.’

  ‘Take my arm, Euphemia, and we can walk together. Like old times.’

  ‘I would rather not,’ I said, keeping my distance.

  ‘You cannot think that I would harm you in any way?’ said Hans, sounding genuinely shocked.

  ‘No, I do not think that,’ I said. ‘But I do think our last conversation – before my departure – has left a mark upon our friendship that will take some time to fade.’

  ‘I wanted to save you from the noose. I could not bear to think of... I was open and honest with you.’

  ‘As you are not with your wife.’

  ‘Have you told her?’

  ‘No, and if it eases your mind, I have every intention of forgetting the words we exchanged that night.’

  ‘You did not refuse me, Euphemia.’

  ‘Hans, leave it be. I will marry Bertram in time, and we will forget all this.’

  ‘Speaking of Bertram, I see the very man closing upon us. I will leave you together.’ As Hans walked away, I recalled what Fitzroy had said; if Hans had murdered Richard then secretly helping me flee would turn suspicion away from him. I felt sick to my stomach. Hans did not strike me as a killer – but an impulsive action on the back of a threat from Richard?

  ‘You look very sombre,’ said Bertram. ‘Was that Hans, walking with you?’

  ‘I heard at dinner that you had been unwell.’

  ‘Shouldn’t have tried to strangle the on-duty bobby with his own collar.’

  ‘You are joking, aren’t you?’

  Bertram dropped his head slightly in a sheepish manner. ‘I was rather upset about the whole thing.’

  I put my arms round his neck and kissed him lightly on the lips. ‘I would very much prefer it if you did not allow your temper to finish you off before we can marry.’

  ‘Me too,’ said Bertram. ‘It is all a terrible mess. I don’t believe the tramp rubbish, do you?’

  ‘No, I think something came out of Richard’s past and killed him.’

  ‘Evil deeds catching up and all that?’

  I nodded. ‘To be honest, my love, if I was not under suspicion – and I will always be under suspicion until the killer is caught – I probably w
ould not trouble much, even if he was your brother.’

  Bertram slipped my hand through his arm and began to walk again. ‘Better not to stay still. We might be overheard,’ he said. ‘No, I wouldn’t bother much either. Seems a terrible thing to say of one’s own kin, but he was never lovable, even as a child. I hadn’t thought much about you being under a cloud for this...’

  ‘Stain on my reputation,’ I said wryly. ‘You cannot make me believe that people are not talking about this the length and breadth of the county – if not further abroad. It is not as if they have caught an actual tramp, is it?’

  ‘No. I used the same sort of nonsense back when Papa was killed. Fortunately, no one ever suspected me.’

  I patted his arm. ‘You are not a killer.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Bertram. ‘I have always hoped my future bride would feel that way.’ I laughed. ‘Where are we going?’

  ‘Why, over to the church,’ said Bertram. ‘You want to take another look at the scene, don’t you?’

  ‘I would not have asked you to come with me.’

  ‘Well, I dashed well am not going to have you wandering around a creepy old church looking for a murderer without me. What kind of man do you think I am?’

  ‘A brave, faithful, and loyal one,’ I said.

  ‘You make me sound like a dog,’ said Bertram.

  ‘But not a sheep,’ I said.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Old joke. Never mind. I appreciate your concern and would be most happy to accept your offer of assistance.’ ‘What are we looking for?’ asked Bertram. ‘I really have no idea.’ ‘Oh good, same as usual then.’

  We walked in companionable silence until we came to the church. ‘Oh, will it be...’ Bertram produced a key. ‘I know how you think,’ he said. ‘Where do we start.’

  ‘I confess I am not keen to re-enter the antechamber, but that is where our most serious search must be done. Perhaps we could start with a general sweep of the church?’ Bertram assented. ‘We should also check the pathways around the church in case –’ I broke off.