The Lady By His Side(43)

The constable on guard outside the estate office saw them and straightened.

“We’d like to speak with Sir Humphrey and Inspector Crawford,” Sebastian said.

“Aye, my lord. I’ll just ask.”

The constable did, and seconds later, Antonia preceded Sebastian into the estate office.

Sir Humphrey and the inspector rose.

Antonia claimed the same chair she’d occupied that morning and sat. The men settled; before any of them could speak, she asked, “Have you learned anything of the murderer, Inspector? Sir Humphrey?”

Sir Humphrey humphed. “I was called away and just arrived back myself.” He glanced at the inspector. “Well, Crawford, do we have any prime suspects?”

“As to that, I’ve yet to reach any conclusion.” Crawford appeared resigned. “We’ve now interviewed all the guests and established their movements during the critical period—in the half hour leading up to the murder and the minutes immediately after it.” The inspector clasped his hands on the desk and fixed his gaze on his fingers. “While I’m happy to eliminate all of the ladies—each and every one was in the music room with all the others—the gentlemen…” He grimaced. “I’m increasingly certain one of the male guests is our murderer, but at the moment, all appear accounted for.”

Concisely, he listed each of the gentlemen and where they said they had been, plus who else had seen them, or what other observation corroborated their whereabouts during that time. “Each of them is vouched for by at least one of the other guests in such a way that makes it difficult to see how they might have stabbed his lordship. And although some form of conspiracy might be possible, given those involved in each alibi, it seems unlikely.”

Sir Humphrey shifted in his chair. “There must be some hole in someone’s tale—some gap in the evidence we haven’t yet stumbled over.”

Sebastian nodded. “Some anomaly—something that someone’s said, and perhaps even believes, that isn’t actually perfectly correct.”

“Well,” Sir Humphrey said, “we can rule out any vagrants or gypsies. I checked with the bailiffs—there aren’t any in the district at the moment, and as the bailiffs pointed out, we don’t usually get vagrants out this way, so close to the coast, this late in the year.” After a second, he added, “That doesn’t mean it couldn’t have been some unusual vagrant, but it does make the prospect much less likely.”

Crawford snorted. “Despite the fond hopes of those attending this house party, I think we can discount any vagrant or gypsy. Aside from all else, I had Lady Ennis check, and the butler and parlormaid, too, and none of them could say that anything was missing from the study.”

Sebastian put in, “From the moment I set eyes on that open window, I felt it was staged—a diversion executed under pressure. A red herring to lead us astray, but not one that had been planned or carefully thought out.”

“That’s how I see it, too,” Crawford said. “And that only makes me more certain that the murderer is one of the gentlemen guests, and furthermore, that the murder wasn’t planned. As I see it, one of the men grasped the chance of Ennis going to his study alone. No reason our gent needed to know Ennis was preparing to speak with you—he might just have seen the opportunity to have a few words with his lordship. But then Ennis told this gent something, or revealed something, and the gent panicked and killed Ennis to shut him up.”

“What did the murderer use to stab Ennis?” Antonia asked. “Could that shed some light?”

Crawford pulled a face. “His lordship was stabbed with a letter knife that he apparently kept on his desk in a tray above his blotter, in full view of anyone about the desk. The murderer had tossed it in a corner of the room.”

Frowning, Sir Humphrey tugged at his ear lobe. After a moment, he glanced at Sebastian. “We’ve assumed the subject that presumably was discussed between Ennis and the murderer that resulted in Ennis being stabbed had something to do with Ennis’s last words, but that’s not necessarily so.”

Sebastian inclined his head. “Logically, there’s no reason it has to be, but…” He grimaced. “Ennis with such a secret, in such company, is murdered—it’s hard to look past this putative Irish plot as the motive behind it. Not unless Ennis knew other secrets that affected one or more of these men.”

Sir Humphrey grunted. “Possible, certainly, but how likely?” He looked at Crawford. “I agree—unless we find evidence to the contrary, the most likely motive for Ennis’s murder is something to do with this gunpowder plot.”