Death of a Lady (The Inspector Felix Mysteries Book 1) Read online

  Death of a Lady

  R. A. Bentley

  COPYRIGHT

  First published in Great Britain January 2016

  Copyright © R. A. Bentley

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior permission in writing of the publisher, nor be circulated in writing of any publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published without a similar condition including this condition, being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  This book has been produced for the Amazon Kindle and is distributed by Amazon Direct Publishing

  For Suzy

  Chapter One

  1914

  Seven-thirty of a June morning, and already the vaulted kitchens at Godwinstowe House were a sweltering bedlam of chopping, basting and stirring, among savorous vapours and the fierce glow of the stoves. Even the earliest of risers had found Elsie Strong, Head Cook, hard at work (it was rumoured she'd spent the night there, dozing in a chair), for in the shortest time, no fewer than seven peers, a bevy of knights, a brace of mayors and some two hundred lesser mortals would be sitting down to a six-course wedding breakfast.

  That they might do so in beseeming splendour was the business of Mrs Legg, Housekeeper, under whose steely eye a frenzy of cleaning and polishing had for a month continued in Godwinstowe's mighty state rooms: the dining room, with its Boucher tapestries, its Adam chimneypiece, and its life-size statues of Ceres and Bacchus; the drawing room, home to a nationally important collection of Sèvres porcelain, and the famous "painted ballroom," where beneath scenes of mediaeval pomp and fleshy Olympian licence a small orchestra was setting up its instruments, to the unhelpful accompaniment of last minute floor bumping and the noisy importation of tables and chairs.

  Above Olympus, meanwhile, the Mortimer family had to be serviced as usual; including, of course, the star performer in the forthcoming drama — Lady Genevieve Mortimer, Bride.

  'It's a lovely day for it,' yawned Gladys Fripp, chambermaid. 'Bright but misty. It's always a good sign when it's misty.'

  'Going to be a hot one,' agreed Mary Bennett, taking her turn at the copper. 'There'll be photographs outside, very likely, and we can have a good gawp. Oh, but I was forgetting,' she added theatrically, 'someone won the draw.'

  'Someone did,' said Gladys complacently. 'Though I doubt we'll see much from the back, you know.'

  'Ah, but you'll be sitting next to a handsome gentleman-friend,' sighed Mary. 'I shan't.'

  'Only if he gets here in time. Hello, Henry, skiving as usual?'

  'Slander now, is it?' complained Henry Fry, hall boy. 'And me about to offer you a lift with them pitchers. It'd serve you right if I took my services elsewhere.'

  'Ooh, slander!' giggled Mary. 'Swallowed a dictionary have you, Henry?'

  'I has to defend my good name,' said Henry with dignity. 'Reputation's important in business.'

  'And what are you charging today, Master Fry?' said Gladys, 'As if I didn't know.'

  'Just the usual, Miss Fripp. My prices are fair and well-known.'

  'Then I'm obliged to refuse. Sorry, Henry.'

  'Ethel Diffey just did.'

  'Ethel Diffey would.'

  'A peck on the cheek, then? The third floor for a peck on that soft and dimpled cheek. Cheap, I calls it, and not without its pleasures I'd a-thought.'

  'Not on any part of me, thank you, young man. Ask Miss Yates. She ought to have one, for the experience.'

  'Oh, very witty. Savin' yerself for skinny Albert, I suppose?'

  'Yes I am, so you can pucker up for someone else. And you ought to watch your back — a certain gentleman's got his beady eye on you.'

  'Henry John Fry!' roared Stan Pearson, First Footman. 'If you've nothing better to do than pester the maids, you can help us in the pantry.'

  'I'm fetching coal for Cook, Mr Pearson.'

  'With your bare hands, would it be? They're dirty enough! Get along with you, or Mr Legg shall hear of it. Carter! Napkins, if you please. You'd best stay there and help. Take Tolley with you. Look sharp now.'

  'He may kiss me, if he wants,' confided Mary. 'I shouldn't mind that at all.'

  'Fat chance,' said Gladys. 'We know who he's in love with, don't we? Come on, before it gets cold.'

  Picking up their heavy pitchers, they joined the procession of maids ascending and descending the backstairs, their boots clumping noisily on the uncarpeted treads. It was fortunate, Gladys thought, that she was leaving shortly, before her arms were torn from their sockets, or stretched so her knuckles dragged on the floor, like an ape. She would do anything for Albert but carry pitchers. Or buckets. That was firmly to be understood. Mary never complained, but Mary was built like a dray horse; which was probably fortunate, since she appeared to hold no attraction for young Henry.

  At the third-floor landing they pushed bottom-first through the service door and turned along one of Godwinstowe's labyrinthine corridors to enter Lady Genevieve's suite of rooms. Her bed, Gladys was surprised to note, was tumbled and empty, but at the window stood the willowy, fair-haired figure of Ginny Brown, Lady's Maid.

  'Where's Her Ladyship? We've got her water.'

  'Out there,' sighed Ginny, pointing. 'You'd best give it to someone else.'

  'Not this morning, surely!' Gladys joined her, pushing aside a curtain to gaze over Godwinstowe's rolling parkland. The mist, she noted, had already burned off, and the sky was a pale, cloudless blue. It was, indeed, going to be a hot one. 'Where is she?' she asked. 'You look worried.'

  'Yes I am. I think she's gone for the haha. She went down there ages ago and should have come out by now.'

  'To jump it, do you mean?'

  Ginny nodded. 'She never has, you see, and I suppose it's her last chance. It'd be just like her to try.'

  'Is it very difficult?'

  'It is rather. It's just about the highest part, with a steep slope at the bottom. Hector doesn't like it. He's refused a couple of times before.'

  'Maybe he has again?' suggested Mary.

  'Yes, and suppose he's chucked her off? If she's hurt, we're in the soup!'

  That, thought Gladys, was to put it mildly. Leaning out of the open window, she looked slowly from left to right. Immediately beneath her was a narrow terrace, still in shade, while stretching away from it was mown greensward, eventually to merge with the wilder woods and hills beyond. Invisibly separating them, passing in places behind smaller clumps of trees, was the haha. Gladys had never seen it – wandering the park was discouraged – but she understood what it was: a stock-proof wall, hidden from the house against a bank. Why on earth, she wondered, would anyone want to jump a horse over it? Barmy!

  'You saw her go down there?'

  'Yes, she came across the lawns.'

  'Where are we supposed to look? Where would you expect her to come out?'

  'Under those elms,' said Ginny, pointing. 'There's a path of sorts through Brice's Coppice and the haha is on the far side. It's only a field away from the stables, but she'd have to jump it first as there's no other way down. Oh come on, sweetheart, you're frightening me!'

  'Ginny, you mustn't panic,' said Gladys sensibly. 'We can send someone to look if we have to. How long is it since you last saw her? Can you remember?'

  'I'm not sure. It's at least ten minutes. Probably more.'

  'Ten minutes!' cried Mary, rolling her eyes heavenwards. 'Well that's that then. Whatever will they do with all the food?'

  Gladys frowned at her reprovingly. 'You would think of that, wouldn
't you? Ginny love, it's a bit early to be worrying yet! She's probably just stopped to talk to someone.'

  'No she hasn't,' said Ginny. 'No-one ever goes there.'

  'Well to check her saddle straps then, or admire the view. It could be anything.'

  'Or have a squat,' added Mary coarsely. 'Honestly, Ginny, ten minutes is nothing. It's only five minutes more than five minutes. You wouldn't worry after five minutes, would you?'

  'No, you don't understand!' cried Ginny. 'It shouldn't even take five minutes. I doubt if it's a hundred yards altogether, and if he's refused again you'd expect her to turn around and come back, but she hasn't. Why on earth did she have to do it today for goodness' sake? She'll be the death of me, I swear — I shall run mad!'

  Catching her anxiety, they stared at the empty landscape, willing their errant mistress to appear.

  'I suppose it is rather a long time,' admitted Mary. 'Maybe he's refusing to move. We had a donkey like that once. Stop dead, he would, and you couldn't shift him.'

  'I didn't know you had a donkey,' said Gladys.

  'And a cart, for the milk.'

  'Oh blow your donkey — this is serious!' Cried Ginnie. 'She's hurt, I know she is! She's lying there calling for me. Whatever shall I do?' And taking a hankie from her sleeve she began to weep.

  Gladys put an arm around her. 'Ginny, please don't cry. I'll go for Mr Legg if we need to, but I think we should wait a little longer; you don't want to look foolish, do you?'

  'No,' said Ginny, with sudden decision. 'No, I'm going down there. It'll be quicker, and I'll know where to look. I'm going now.'

  'I don't think— ' began Gladys, but Mary waved an admonitory arm. 'Wait a minute, I think I can see her . . . Oh lummy!'

  'What is it?'

  'It's Hector — by himself.'

  Filled with foreboding, Gladys craned awkwardly round Mary's bulk. 'Where? I don't see him. Why . . . Mary Bennet, you deserve a punch!' she cried. 'Ginny, she's pulling your leg! Look, over there, she's fine.'

  But Ginny's hands were already clasped in prayer. 'Oh thank you, God. Thank you, thank you, thank you! I'll be good forever, I swear! And now she's waving! Would you believe it? She's waving, the creature! She must have known I'd be watching,' She waved wildly back. 'I love you, Genny, you wicked girl! Oh my poor heart, it's all of a flutter.'

  'You really were worried, weren't you?' began Gladys, rather superfluously, but elbowed in the ribs by Mary she turned to discover a scowling older woman at the doorway, arms akimbo.

  'And just what are you three doing?' she asked.

  'Hello, Miss Yates,' said Mary innocently. 'We're watching Her Ladyship. She's just jumped the haha.'

  'Has she now? And who, pray, sent her out riding this morning? Miss Brown, explain yourself!'

  Still gazing out the window, Ginny gave no indication that she'd heard. But watching obliquely her mercurial friend, Gladys saw her slowly smile. It wasn't, she thought, a very nice smile.

  'Miss Brown?' snapped Miss Yates. 'I'm waiting.'

  'Yes, all right,' sighed Ginny. 'It was I who suggested she go riding. Does that satisfy you?'

  Miss Yates frowned suspiciously. 'You admit this foolishness? And kindly look at me when you are talking to me!'

  Ginny swung round to face her. 'Why, Miss Yates,' she said brightly, 'that's what your question implied, was it not? Certainly I admit it. It's a lovely morning, and I felt a nice gallop would do Her Ladyship good — set her up for the day and all that. Don't you agree?'

  'Oh! most certainly,' rejoined Miss Yates sarcastically. 'Healthy exercise is so important in girls, I always think. I hope, however, you will not be offended if I remind you that in approximately one hundred and sixty minutes, Lady Mortimer has a rather important appointment. May I humbly enquire what you propose to do about it?'

  Still smiling, Ginny advanced upon the somewhat shorter woman, bending over her until their faces were inches apart. 'I propose, Miss Yates, to do my job.' she said, 'Just as I always do. Were you to look, you'd see that she's presently crossing the paddocks. In two of your minutes she'll be in the stable-yard, in twenty she'll be in her bath, and in one hundred and twenty she'll be dressed and ready for the Bishop. She'll be bright and relaxed from her ride, she won't need any rouge, and she won't have been sitting around half the morning getting anxious. Now get your fat nose out my business and take yourself off to the Duchess, who probably needs every minute you can give her!'

  Such an attack on Godwinstowe's senior maid was unprecedented, and glancing nervously at Mary, Gladys waited for the explosion. But Miss Yates merely placed her head on one side and folded her arms firmly under her considerable bosom. 'That, indeed, is where I am going, Miss Brown,' she said quietly. 'And the first thing I shall do is complain about you. You've overstepped the mark this time, my girl, and you're going to pay for it!'

  'Blimey!' said Mary, watching her go.

  'Oh, Ginny!' cried Gladys. 'What on earth have you done? You couldn't have sent her out riding; I saw you at breakfast. Go after her and apologise; it may not be too late.'

  But Ginny simply laughed. 'Did you see the look on her face! I've waited years for that. Besides, it's an empty threat and she knows it. By tomorrow night we'll be miles away, and I'll never have to see that miserable, boot-faced old harridan again.'

  Lady Genevieve walked the bay gelding into Godwinstowe's bustling stable-yard to be met by Augustus Partridge, Head Groom. The great yard rivalled the kitchens in chaos as carriages were brought out and horses harnessed, and they were obliged to move aside to avoid their comings and goings.

  'You, My Lady, are the last I thought to see this morning,' said Augustus, helping her dismount.

  'Don't be cross, Partridge,' she begged. 'You look cross. I so wanted to see him once more. And you, of course.'

  Augustus smiled wryly. 'Well it's nice you thought of me too. But did you have to scare me half do death first?'

  Genevieve blushed. 'Oh! You saw.'

  'I just happened to be lookin' in that direction.' He lifted his cap. 'See these white hairs? It be you I do blame for 'em!'

  'Then you're not cross,' she laughed. 'You used to say that when I was little! I'd forgotten.'

  'Yes, I did, and you'll observe they're mostly white now, what's left of 'em. That oughta tell you something.'

  'Oh, you!' she said. 'I'm sorry I've been such a trial! But you needn't have worried; I led him along the top for a while to get him used to it, and then he didn't even hesitate. He's been so good today, as if he wanted to please me specially, and now I'm going away and leaving him, and he won't know where I am or even if I'm coming back. Will he pine, do you think? Tell me truthfully. I should hate it if he did.'

  Augustus shook his head. 'No, he won't pine. He might be a bit unsettled for a day or two, but I'll take him out daily, like I said I would, and make a great fuss of him and he won't hardly notice the difference, 'cept for the whiskers. You're not to worry about that.'

  Genevieve smiled.'I know. I'm being silly. I expect it's I who will pine really.' Turning, she seemed to notice for the first time the crowded yard. The horse shied suddenly as a coach passed by and she hastened to reassure him. 'It's all right, sweetie; be a good boy. Goodness, how busy it is! Do you think someone is getting married?'

  Augustus drew them into a corner. 'Nervous?' he asked gently.

  'A little,' she admitted. 'More than I expected to be.'

  'And that's why you jumped the haha?'

  'Yes, I suppose so. Oh, Partridge, nobody understands me like you! I'm going to miss you so much.'

  'Now don't you start,' he chided, 'We done all that yesterday. You'll see me soon enough anyway, when I brings him over.'

  'That's only once! You will visit often, won't you? Please say you will. It's not far.'

  'You know I will, and write often too. And you shall write back and tell me all your news. Now get you home, or you'll be in trouble. You ain't got that long, you know.'

  'No, I must fly.' She
regarded him sadly for a moment. 'I . . . wish you could be there.'

  Glancing both ways Augustus lowered his voice. 'I will be there, Genny. You know I will. You just won't see me, that's all.'

  'I know. I know that really. Oh my goodness — the time! Goodbye, Partridge.'

  'Goodbye, My Lady. Be happy, and may the good Lord bless and keep you.'

  'Oh, Partridge, you're making me cry!'

  'Go!' he commanded.

  Holding Hector's reins, he watched her hurry away through the crowd, a tall, graceful figure, indifferent to her appearance in her grubby men's jodhpurs.

  'Losin' yer pal, Gussie?' winked Walter Strong, coachman.

  But Augustus barely heard him. 'My Lady!' he called. She turned towards him, startled. 'Keep a good seat, now!'

  Chapter 2

  1926

  Nodding a little in the overheated Daimler, Detective Inspector Miles Felix turned his gaze upon the storm-lashed Wessex countryside. Scudding cloud hung low over bleak and empty fields, and the nearby River Welm had burst its banks, flooding the road in places and forcing them to slow down. "Yet seemed it winter still, and you away," he thought, and smiled. He was a man of sanguine disposition, and neither the wild weather nor the Chief Constable's relentless chatter greatly bothered him, though he suspected his sergeant, sitting beside the driver, might not be so forgiving. He had learned from years of observation that a reddening of those misshapen ears often presaged a biting or downright sarcastic remark, and it was perhaps fortunate that the advent of a high estate wall, overhung with dripping beeches and topped with the occasional dejected-looking pheasant, suggested their imminent arrival.

  'His Grace is not a bad old stick,' Sir Neville was saying. 'Trouble is, his brain's going. Not that he was ever very bright, poor chap. I had to remind him twice in half an hour why I was there and it was the devil to keep him to the point. He just kept repeating "ghastly business," which there's no denying it is. I'll introduce you to him as a matter of course, but you'd best deal with the son, George. He's quite a different sort of fellow, fortunately. Bit stuffy, but a good head on him and might make something of the place once he gets hold of it. Someone needs to, goodness knows, or it'll collapse about their ears. The wife's a little cracker by the way. Take a look if you get the chance. Irish if you please! Don't suppose the Duchess thinks much of that, but it's her money that's keeping 'em going, very likely. Here we are: main entrance. There's another in the village but we've had it locked. Vultures gathering already, I see.'