“Ah, a butterfly!” said Tommy, enlightened.
“A moth, Mr. Pearson,” Edgar gently corrected him, “and a very attractive one. Pink spots. Thyatira batis.”
Conversation was desultory as everyone tried to avoid the forbidden topic. Alec alone knew the whole story.
Daisy looked round the table, as aware of those absent as of those present: Raymond deceased; Vincent and Laurette arrested; Martha still in bed on Dr. Hopcroft’s orders, though he had pronounced her and the unborn baby out of danger; Violet, who had nobly done her part for Martha and returned exhausted to the Dower House late last night; Belinda, Derek, and Ben, who had crowed over their triumph and then moved on to more interesting pursuits.
Peach blossom was out of season, but the ripe fruit provided a peach tart, which was consumed with appreciation. Then the adults also moved on to a more interesting pursuit. Settled in the drawing room, coffee served, they looked to Edgar to start the proceedings.
His lordship ceded the chair to Scotland Yard.
“Thank you, sir.” Alec had no need to wait for their attention. “Let me begin by saying that this case has been one of the most confusing of my experience, if not the most confusing. Some of you know one part, some another, so you’ll forgive me if I tell you much that you already know. I’ll try to follow chronological order. The first noteworthy incident was Vincent’s report—”
Several people interrupted: “But—”
Alec held up his hand. “Vincent’s tale, if you prefer, of being attacked while strolling in the woods on Sunday afternoon. He himself said it could have been an accident, a falling bough that caused him to trip in dodging it.”
“I’ve had my bailiff and my groundsman go through the woods,” Edgar said defensively, “checking for hazardous trees and dealing with them.”
“I’m glad to hear it, sir. A falling bough may in fact have given him the notion of claiming he had an impression of someone swinging a branch at him. Misdirection figured largely in his plan. At any rate, there was nothing concrete enough for me to act upon, and though he limped heavily for a couple of days, with the aid of his walking stick, there was little damage done.”
“I’ve just remembered,” said Daisy, “I noticed he walked perfectly normally when carrying a tray in the refreshment tent at the fête. And he’d been limping just a minute earlier. I forgot all about it when Belinda fell off the donkey.”
Alec frowned at her and resumed his narration. “Belinda’s fall was the second incident.”
“But Bel has nothing to do with the inheritance,” Frank protested.
“True, which muddled the issue. But Daisy and I put together some odd facts.… Ben, with a cooperative donkey, was in the lead when he suddenly lost speed. This allowed Belinda to catch up, whereupon her donkey bucked her off.”
“It doesn’t sound like the kind of beast I’d let my girls ride,” said Sam, a trifle censorious. His torso wrapped like an Egyptian mummy, shirtless under a borrowed blazer two sizes too large, he moved gingerly, but agreed with Drs. Pardoe and Hopcroft that his wound was nothing serious.
“The donkey man said it was very docile,” Daisy assured him, “only it was afraid of flashing lights. He didn’t expect any trouble in broad daylight. Then Ben said a light had flashed in his eyes and startled him, making him unintentionally rein in his mount. We guessed it must have been a reflection of the sun’s rays, from a mirror, perhaps. When Ben slowed down and Bel moved ahead, it flashed in her donkey’s eyes.”
“Again, it could well have been an accident,” Alec resumed, “though Ben’s involvement made us wonder. In a sense it was an accident, as it was not the intended victim who got the bloody nose.”
“Ben likely wouldn’t have come to much harm,” said Frank, “if he had been the one to fall.”
“Another reason for us to dismiss it as an accident. The third incident could not be so regarded, though it had the same slapdash quality. Edgar’s butterfly net was arranged near the bottom of the spiral steps to the boys’ turret room, where Derek was as likely to be tripped as Ben, and again no one was likely to be badly hurt. What’s more, in daylight the boys would probably have spotted it before falling over it. If not for the thunderbolt that scared them in the middle of the night, nothing at all might have come of it.”
“I don’t understand,” Edgar said plaintively. “What did Vincent hope to gain from all this?”
“Confusion,” said Alec. “And he succeeded there. Your butterfly net couldn’t have placed itself in position, so at that point I had to start wondering seriously what was going on. And I couldn’t make sense of it.”