Heirs of the Body(90)

“Whew! Don’t give me another shock like that, Ernest!”

“I’m sure I’m very sorry, madam. But you needn’t worry, we’ve got it covered. And I didn’t tell nobody but Mr. Lowecroft what you said to me. Not but what everyone but the kitchen maid can guess there’s fishy business going on.”

Daisy started after Alec towards the house. “What does everyone make of it?”

“Can’t make head nor tail of it, madam.” The footman kept pace half a step to her rear. “It just don’t seem to hang together somehow. They’re a rum lot, if you don’t mind me saying so. You can’t choose your relatives, like Mrs. Warden says.”

“That’ll do, Ernest. One of them is going to become Viscount Dalrymple someday, unless another aspirant turns up unexpectedly.”

“Yes, madam. I beg pardon if I spoke too free.”

“I won’t hold it against you. You’ve been very helpful and I’m much easier in my mind about the children.”

“Thank you, madam.”

“And please tell the staff that if anyone has any reasonable ideas to make sense of things, they should report to Mr. Fletcher.”

They had reached the terrace steps, and Alec was about to enter the sitting room. Daisy saw that Geraldine was alone, knitting, while from the wireless came the strains of what Daisy guessed was a Haydn symphony. She shouldn’t have assumed the others would stay to keep their hostess company. Alec could quite well have gone out by himself to fail to find Vincent and Laurette. She girded up her loins for another apology.

Before she reached the French doors, she was startled to hear Laurette’s voice raised in a screech: “Au secours! Au secours! ’Elp! Vincent has been stabbed! Mon dieu, qu’on nous aide!”

Daisy peered into the near darkness. Laurette was wearing black as usual and Daisy couldn’t see her. Ernest started to run, so she followed him, and she heard Alec’s footsteps pounding across the paved terrace.

He easily caught up with and passed her. Though not wearing an evening dress, she was not dressed for running. She slowed down.

Vincent staggered out from the alley. Alec and Ernest went straight to him, so Daisy concentrated on Laurette.

She put her arm about the woman. “Alec and the footman are helping Vincent. Come inside and sit down. What happened?”

“Oh, I cannot talk about it! We came to the end of the allée—We walked slowly, you understand, talking. Near the river it is more light. Almost we walk back across the pelouse, the lawn, but the grass is damp, so we return to the allée, where is gravel. Not so bad for shoes.”

Daisy glanced down guiltily at her shoes, but it was too dark by now to see any damage. “The laburnum is impenetrable. So either someone came running after you, which you would have heard on the gravel, or you reached the gap halfway, where you can turn onto the lawn or take the footpath in the opposite direction.”

“Yes, yes, we come to the gap. We cross. Someone concealed himself there—ça se voit—this is obvious. We re-enter into the tunnel, into the darkness. The person throws himself upon my poor Vincent and thrusts a knife into his back!”

“Good heavens, how terrible! Is he badly hurt?” She looked back. Vincent was walking between Alec and Ernest, slowly but unsupported. “Not too badly, apparently. It looks as if he had a lucky escape.”

“He heard a sound and started to turn himself.”

“So the blow didn’t strike him squarely in the back. Gosh, he really was lucky.”

“Unless he bleeds slowly perhaps, unseen under the coat.”

“Alec and Ernest will get him inside where we can see. It’s no good fumbling in the dark.”

Geraldine looked up as they went through the French doors. She jumped up, dropping her knitting, as the men appeared on the threshold. “What now?” she asked, in a long-suffering voice. It must be very trying to have guests so prone to dramatic upsets.

“Vincent was attacked,” said Daisy. “He doesn’t seem to be badly hurt.”

Vincent sank limply into the nearest chair, with a slight moan. Laurette started chafing his hand, to what end Daisy wasn’t sure.

“Where are Sam and Crowley?” Alec asked sharply.

“Frank quietly sloped off,” Geraldine said. “I assumed to the public house.”

“I told him not to go there this evening,” Daisy put in. “I said it wouldn’t look good after Raymond’s demise. He’s probably in the billiard room.”

“Ernest, go and check, please. And Sam?”

“Martha felt unwell. Too much excitement, I expect. Naturally Samuel went with her to help her up the stairs.”