Enter Pale Death(60)

“Goodness! I’m afraid we would risk boring her to tears with our country ways, were we to invite her to dinner. A girl may be too educated, you know. No man rejoices to find himself seated next to grey-eyed Athena at the dinner table.”

“Truly, I hardly know the lady and should not answer for her,” Joe said, thinking this party was probably the last thing she’d enjoy and finding it difficult to picture rangy Adelaide in a dress, evening or otherwise. “Doctor Hartest was very ready to point the finger at Grace Aldred,” he said to get her back on track.

“Ah, yes. I’m sure she’s right. It seems Grace may well hold the key to all this witchery. But Grace would never have planned a mischievous assault on her mistress. She’s a Suffolk girl. They don’t hold with violence about here. Murders in the county are few and all committed by incomers, Commissioner. No—for the originator of this evil you must look elsewhere. But there is one person you can discount. I have already mentioned: my son, James. He has an alibi—is that what you’d say?”

“Possibly. It depends on whether he could offer witness of his whereabouts that night. And I’m remembering that this murder, if murder it was, was perpetrated at arm’s length, so to speak. A suggestion was put into Lady Truelove’s head, she performed accordingly and at some later time, the spiced cake was switched for a noxious offering which had been prepared in advance. Anyone could have planted the suggestion, exchanged the cake for what I’ll call the ‘poisoned’ one in the early hours of the morning, let’s say, and been fast asleep in bed by the time Lavinia was approaching the stables.”

Joe fell silent, suddenly seeing the flaw in his theory.

“No. I think there must have been a simpler way,” said Cecily, echoing his thoughts. “One that didn’t involve to-ing and fro-ing in the night. Ben would have noticed anyone creeping about after midnight armed with a mess of stinking … stoat’s liver, did you say? You may ask him yourself.”

Just as Joe had been about to press her further on the matter of Truelove’s alibi, the butler entered to warn his mistress that the first of the guests was coming up the drive. A Rolls-Royce with Surrey plates.

“Ah! Sir Basil and Lady Ripley,” she exclaimed. “We’re kicking off! I shall come at once. Sandilands …” and, with sudden intimacy, “Joe! Do come and greet them with me. James and Alex are not about the place and I do appreciate a masculine presence at my elbow.”

As they got to their feet, her conversation became purposeful and fast and he recognised the tone of a commander to her aide-de-camp.

“Basil Ripley and Florence were here at the house during that frightful weekend, Joe. Basil is very influential in the House of Lords and James is keen to impress him. Florence is a bit of a gad-about—twenty years younger than her husband—and rather susceptible. Take her to have look at the Edwardian glasshouse or for a stroll in the knot garden … intrigue her a bit …”

Joe smiled and surrendered. He’d decided he would be rather entertained to play poodle—or was it tame stag?—for Cecily. He would give good value. He would establish himself as a welcome presence with an understanding smile and a ready pair of ears.

He checked his sticking plaster was in place, planned a joking account of how he’d acquired his wound if anyone asked, offered his arm to her Ladyship and accompanied her to the hall.





CHAPTER 14


It had been a demanding afternoon. The first two pairs of guests had arrived in quick succession and been welcomed with delight by Cecily. Joe had made himself useful, offering the expected staccato exchanges with the gentlemen, flirtatious chatter with the ladies, and pouring many cups of tea. He’d even found time to escort Florence on an expedition to view the pineapples in the glasshouse. Cecily had introduced him to the guests as ‘James’s dear friend … and George Jardine’s associate in India, you know. Wilfred, weren’t you and Maggie in Ootacamund before the war? I thought so. Joe, you must know Ooty?’ ”

Cecily had finally admitted that she had attempted to reconstruct the deadly dinner party so that he might have as many witnesses as possible to speak to. The three married couples who had all accepted the invitation had been present that evening, as had her son Alex.

No secret was made of his police rank; Cecily even hinted with a knowing twinkle that curled Joe’s toes in embarrassment that the guests were fortunate to be meeting possibly the successor to Lord Trenchard in the service. His position was remarked on with the usual heavy hilarity and Joe had replied in kind: “No, no! Don’t be concerned. I’m on holiday. The Crown Jewels tucked up in your second best waistcoat in your valise will remain undisturbed by me, Sir Basil!”