So Vincent was on Laurette’s left. He had heard a sound and turned towards it.…
No, he had been stabbed from behind, not from the side, not in the shoulder or upper arm. It only made sense if he had mistaken the direction of the sound and swung to his right.
Unless, perhaps, the crunch of the couple’s footsteps on the gravel had covered the sound of the attacker’s steps, and Vincent had just happened to turn slightly towards Laurette at the moment he was struck. It wouldn’t be surprising if they had been flustered enough to persuade themselves they had heard the attacker.
The attacker was certainly not a very effective murderer. Frank? Sam? Daisy had been almost convinced of Raymond’s guilt until he became a victim. That demonstrated the peril Alec was always warning her about, of assuming someone one liked could not possibly be a villain, and vice versa.
Now the list of suspects had shortened to Sam and Frank.
THIRTY-ONE
The atmosphere at lunch was uneasy.
Alec, Tom, and Ernie Piper ate in Edgar’s den. Vincent and Laurette persisted in their resolution not to leave their room.
“Has a tray been taken to them?” Geraldine asked Lowecroft when he delivered this news.
“Naturally, my lady.”
“At least they trust my staff, it would seem! Martha’s not coming down, Samuel?”
“She’s feeling rotten, my l—Cousin Geraldine. Not hungry, but I made her promise to try to eat a bite or two.”
“I rang Dr. Hopcroft,” Daisy put in. “He’s going to call this afternoon.”
“Thank you, Daisy. Lowecroft, I wish to speak to the doctor after he’s seen Mrs. Samuel.”
“I shall inform him, my lady.”
The children were present. Belinda asked anxiously, “Will Aunt Martha be all right, Mummy?”
“I’m sure she will, darling. Dr. Hopcroft will know how to make her more comfortable. Remember how he stopped your nosebleed?”
“And it didn’t even swell up at all,” Ben reminded her.
The children were satisfied. Raymond’s death and the Vincent Dalrymples’ absence from the scene hadn’t made much impression on them. None of the three had asked about the stabbing so Daisy assumed everyone had had more sense than to tell them about it. She hoped Alec wouldn’t want to question them.
They had reached the pudding course—a fluffy lemon mousse, sweet and tart and perfect for a hot day—when Alec came in.
“I’m sorry to interrupt, Cousin Geraldine. I wanted to catch you all together.” He glanced round the table. “Where are Vincent and Laurette?”
“Barricaded in their room still. Servants-only admitted.”
“They’ll admit me. As you’ve all doubtless heard by now, my two detective sergeants have arrived from London. Geraldine, DS Tring will be talking to the servants. Would you be kind enough to instruct them to cooperate?”
“Lowecroft, you heard Mr.… um…”
“DCI.”
“DCI Fletcher. Please see that everyone gives DS Tring full cooperation.”
“Certainly, my lady.”
Alec continued, “I’d like to ask all of you to stay within easy reach, as I may want to speak to you again this afternoon.”
Edgar’s face brightened. “I’ll tell Wharton I can’t go with him to inspect the home farm!”
“Thank you, sir.” Alec preserved a straight face except for a twitch at the corner of his mouth.
“I presume coffee on the terrace is acceptable,” Geraldine said.
“By all means.”
Edgar brightened still further. “Then I may go to the conservatory?”
“Anywhere in the house, sir, except that I’ll beg the continued use of your study. Outside, please stay close enough to be easily visible.”
Even in the shade, it was as hot or hotter on the terrace, though less stuffy than in the house. No sign of thunderclouds, just the sun beating down. The air above the lawn shimmered.
Lowecroft and Ernest brought out a jug of iced coffee as well as the usual coffeepot. The children tried it but didn’t like it. Edgar soon bore them off to the conservatory—or vice versa. Sam went up to see Martha, returning to say she was snoozing. A maid had told him she ate scarcely a mouthful of lunch but drank several cups of mint tea.
Geraldine went inside to write letters. Daisy was sure she ought to be writing letters, but she was too limp and lethargic to remember to whom. Frank and Sam asked whether she’d mind if they deserted her for the billiard room.
“Of course not. I’m going up to see the twins in a bit, after their nap.” She moved to the wicker chaise longue.
Ernie Piper came out. “Whew, is it ever hot. You happen to know where Mr. Crowley or Mr. Samuel Dalrymple have got to?”