A Murdered Earl Read online

  'But she wouldn't have been making his chocolate if she was just leaving.'

  'She was standin' by the range. Real mad, she was, saying she'd never work for any o' the nobs again, they didn't treat us right. And Drummond was standing there, like the master stands – used ter stand – in front of the fire with 'is hands underneath his coat tails. I 'ad ter push round both of them ter get to the pan, it were boiling over.'

  'So either of them could have put the poison in the pan.'

  Jenny gaped at him. 'They wouldn't have done! They're both ever so respectable.'

  'Apparently respectable people commit murder.' Luke was silent for a moment, remembering the carnage that had taken place in France, and his own guilt, little though he'd intended to kill the man.

  'But why?' Jenny asked, and grasped his hand urgently and pulling him towards her.

  'They were both angry with him. And they knew the routine. And they'd be safely out of the way when the fuss started.'

  'I just can't believe it!'

  'Jenny, do you prefer to believe it was me?'

  She shook her head. 'Course not.'

  He drew her to sit on a chest which stood between the doors leading to the late Earl's room and that of his dressing room, and patted her hand soothingly.

  'If it wasn't you, or me, it had to be someone else, someone in the kitchens.' She shook her head. 'Go on describing what happened. Who poured the chocolate into the cup?'

  Jenny concentrated, her eyes shut tightly. 'I did. And then I put the cup on the table while I fetched the tray.'

  'Where from? Where is it kept?'

  'In the pantry Mr Drummond uses – used – fer polishing silver. I couldn't find it at first. He 'adn't polished it the day before, and it were under some other stuff. When I went back into the kitchen there was no one there.'

  'Where had they gone?'

  'Outside, mostly. Cook and Mr Drummond 'ad called a hackney, and it were in the mews. They were loadin' their bags. I think most of 'em went out ter wave goodbye, apart from Joseph. He was flirtin' with the girl what brings the milk.'

  'Where?' Luke asked, mentally reminding himself to chaff Joseph about this.

  'In the dairy where we keep the milk churn an' the butter and cheeses, and make the cream. Cook won't let anyone buy cream, she allus makes it herself.'

  'So any of them could have done it, while the cup was on the table,' Luke murmured to himself. 'Though I'm damned if I see why a milkmaid should want to kill him!'

  'There was the butcher's boy, too. He'd been nosing round trying ter see into the front hall, he was allus asking questions about what it was like through there.'

  Luke put his head in his hands. 'There are almost too many people with the opportunity to put something in his chocolate. Did these others, the milkmaid and the butcher's boy, know it was for him?'

  'Oh yes, they was often there at that time of a mornin', and the man who brings the fish. I saw 'im just outside the door, seeing Cook off. He used to be sweet on 'er. He could have slipped in while I was looking fer the tray.'

  'So various servants, delivery boys, a milkmaid, you and I, we all had the opportunity. But why would any of us do it? We might not have liked his treatment of us, but lots of masters are worse, and where would any of us have got the poison?'

  'His family 'ad more reason ter want 'im dead,' Jenny said thoughtfully. 'He was real mean to the poor Countess, an' 'im and the Viscount were allus shouting.'

  'But even so, why now?'

  'And surely they could 'ave got this stuff?'

  'More likely than we could. But they weren't in the kitchen. They didn't have the opportunity. You brought up the chocolate and I took it from you and gave it to him.'

  'No. The cat,' Jenny said excitedly. 'I've just remembered. It were the cat!'

  'A cat put poison into the cup?' Luke demanded.

  Jenny laughed. 'No, yer great looby! 'Ow could it? The cat was up 'ere. It had got through from the kitchens. Probably that butcher's boy,' she added darkly.

  'But how does that matter?'

  'Don't yer see? I'd 'a' got told off fer lettin' it through. The Countess 'ates the poor thing, she threatened to 'ave her drowned if it got at her curtains again. So I took it back through to the back stairs and shooed it down them.'

  'And what did you do with the tray?'

  Jenny patted the chest between them. 'I put it down 'ere.'

  ***

  Chapter 6

  Luke breathed deeply. 'How long were you away?'

  Jenny frowned. 'I was early, I knew. So I 'ad time. But it took me a bit ter catch the old cat. She'd 'idden in the spare bedroom at the end o' this passage.'

  'So you were in that room. Was the door open? Could you see or hear anything out here?'

  'No. The door were only open a crack, an' I shut it, ter keep the cat inside. She went under the bed, and it was a minute before I made 'er come out. I dangled a bit o' bed curtain, and when she thought it were a mouse an' pounced on it, I grabbed her.'

  'Was anyone about when you came out?'

  'No.' Jenny shook her head slowly. 'Yet, it seemed as if someone was near. D'you know the feeling? The air's movin', or there's a smell that wasn't there before.'

  'Did you smell anything? Perfume?'

  'I can't be sure.'

  'Then what?'

  'The door ter the back stairs is back there, at the end, so I went through. Then I thought the door at the bottom might be closed, so I went down both flights and pushed the cat inter the kitchen, and ran back up 'ere, fast as I could.'

  'Anyone could have passed the chocolate, or come out of their room and seen it there, and taken the opportunity. Yet it doesn't feel right.' Luke stared at her thoughtfully. 'From what you say anyone upstairs could have done it.'

  'I weren't long, only a minute or so,' Jenny said, beginning to sound worried.

  'How long would it take to slip something into the cup? Did you see anyone, before you went after the cat? Could anyone have been watching? Did you hear any doors open or close?'

  'Not at first,' Jenny replied. 'But – '

  'But what? Jenny, you have to tell me. Don't you see, until the murderer is caught we're all going to be suspected.'

  She gulped. 'Murderer! 'Ere in the 'ouse? Couldn't it 'ave been an accident?'

  'I only wish it could. But cyanide doesn't get into cups of chocolate by accident.'

  'It might 'a been in already when I fetched the cup,' she offered in a small voice. 'An' I dain't notice.'

  'Are the cups standing about, right way up, before you get one? And how could anyone know which one you'd use? '

  She sighed and shook her head. 'That's no use. It were on the 'ook, as usual.'

  'So it could have been someone up here,' Luke said to himself. Jenny began to shake, and absent-mindedly he put an arm round her shoulder and hugged her.

  'They'll say it were me,' she whispered, and began to sob, clutching at Luke's hands. 'We allus gets the blame!'

  'But why should you want him dead?' he asked. 'Why would any of the servants want him to die?'

  'We dain't like 'im,' she muttered through her sobs. 'None on us liked 'im.'

  'But you probably like his son even less, so why change one master for a worse one?'

  Jenny glanced up at him, her tears arrested. 'Ooh, Luke! You'm proper clever. It must 'a' bin one o' the family! The Viscount? Earl, I mean. I do forget. But surely nobody'd be wicked enough to kill their own father!'

  'It's been done. And there's only the Countess otherwise, and I somehow don’t see her creeping about the landing hoping to find an opportunity.'

  She giggled slightly, then sobered. 'But if it was – the young master, will yer be able ter do anythink?'

  'Only if I can find some sort of proof. Jenny, earlier you said you didn't hear a door opening before. Did you mean before you caught the cat or before you took it downstairs?'

  'I'm sure it weren't then, there weren't anyone ter be seen, anywhere up 'ere!'
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  'But afterwards? What about when you came back?'

  She shivered. 'I can't be sure, like. It just seemed ter me a door closed, very soft it were, along there.'

  Luke looked past her. 'The Viscount's door? Could it have been his?'

  'It might 'a bin,' she said doubtfully, 'but I don't know! Not fer sure, I don't. I couldn't stand up in court an' swear on the Bible it were the 'onest truth!'

  'I don't expect they'll ask you to appear in a court at all,' he reassured her, and grinned inwardly as her excited expression faded. She'd been starting to see herself as a heroine, with everyone listening to her, and maybe even have her words reported in the news-sheets.

  'He has the best motive, wanting his father dead, of course,' Luke said. He stood up, disengaging Jenny's hands from where she still clung to his arm. 'Be a good girl and go back to the kitchens.'

  ***

  He went swiftly down the front stairs, hoping she wouldn't follow him. Her training held. Only the family and guests and the more important servants used these, and the latter only when they had public duties to perform. He needed to think. And it was impossible to do it in this house. He had to have space and peace.

  Outside it was dark and cold, but there was sufficient light from the houses and the flambeaux outside them for him to see, and once he reached Park Lane, and the houses petered out, he had the benefit of the full moon which spread its pale glow over the wide open spaces beyond the boundary wall. He paced alongside it, deep in thought. He didn't really think the Countess would have poisoned her husband. She was a bitter, querulous old woman, but her anger and disappointment in life were displayed in words, and indirect rebellion such as spending the Earl's money when he was out of reach, unable to control her extravance. Not only would she have had difficulty in obtaining cyanide, he didn't see her being purposeful enough to use it. And the idea of her bulky figure creeping about the corridors, silently and swiftly as it must have been if Jenny's account were true, was ludicrous.

  He sighed. He was jumping to conclusions. What did he really know of her? He had observed her for a very short time in his days as footman, often following her meekly to carry home her parcels, opening doors for her, serving her at table. And even though the family behaved as though the servants were not there most of the time, he had not observed any special animosity, or brooding hatred more than the usual lot of married couples. Yet could he really be so certain, either of her character or her determination?

  Her son Augustus, as unlike his famous predecessor as could be, was nevertheless a more likely candidate. He was vain and petulant, resentful of his father and the restrictions placed on his activities. Moreover he was sly. And as a boy he had no doubt delighted in netting butterflies and watching their death struggles in the killing bottles; bottles containing cyanide.

  Luke strode on. A shifty-looking character, cautiously approaching, melted away as Luke glared at him and bunched his fists. For the first time Luke recalled that the Park and its environs were a haunt of highwaymen after dark. He shrugged. He had little enough to tempt them. He nonetheless turned towards the houses in Piccadilly and began to head back home.

  The thought startled him. For how much longer would Redditch House be home to him? No doubt he'd be forced into looking for another position as soon as the new Earl thought about it. The new Earl, suddenly rich and socially elevated, might have been tempted to hurry on the inevitable accession. He was quick and agile enough to take advantage of Jenny's absence to poison his father's chocolate. But that meant he had planned it. No one carried cyanide round on the mere chance of being able to use it. That reasoning applied to everyone. This was no chance killing, the stealing of an opportunity which was suddenly presented. But why now? What had caused it to happen just then?

  It may have been that Augustus had been looking for an opportunity for some time, or something might have happened which made the killing imperative. And these conclusions applied to any of his many possible suspects. Luke sighed, and turned northwards. There were so many suspects, and many of them unknown to him. The servants had, most of them, opportunities to plant the poison either upstairs or in the kitchen. But why? Had something happened recently to cause such an action? Or had the culprit only just obtained the cyanide?

  If it had been the butler or cook, both angry and suddenly leaving their jobs, would they have been able to obtain the poison so rapidly? It was unlikely. Unless some were kept for putting down rats. He must ask about that.

  Then there were all the strangers, visitors to the kitchens, the delivery boys and others who haunted the back premises of big houses in the hope of either work or charity. How could he possibly trace any of them, and even if he could do so, how could he decide on the guilty one, and even more important, prove it? And why might they do it? How could they know the chocolate was for the Earl? Or depend on being able to drop in the poison unobserved?

  Luke arrived in the mews behind the house more confused and despondent than when he had set out. There were so many possibilities, but most of them unlikely. Then his attention was distracted by the gleam of a lantern showing through a crack where one of the coach house doors stood open. He paused. It was late for any of the grooms to be still about. He heard a woman's voice and he grinned. What better place for a tryst? She sounded pleased about something, and he caught a few disjointed words that told him she was uttering some sort of thanks. One of the grooms, he assumed. Probably Amos, he was a handsome and lusty-looking fellow of twenty.

  He went in through the kitchens, dark now work for the day was over. The fire in the range glowed, though it had been damped down for the night, and in the gleams of moonlight which penetrated through the small windows he saw that all had been made tidy. The servants appeared to have recovered their wits after the earlier confusion and shock. Habit had reasserted itself.

  Sam was abed and asleep, and Luke fell into his hard bed, suddenly exhausted. For a while the amazing events of the day swirled round in his brain, but he could make no sense of them, no pattern. Finally, on a resolve to begin looking for another position in the morning, he fell into dreamless sleep.

  ***

  As Luke had feared, when his reasons for needing another position were revealed, in the very few instances when the domestic agencies had not heard the shocking news, there were few offers of employment forthcoming. He rejected one with a newly enriched mill owner in Lancashire, and another for an Irish peer. He had to remain in London. However small the likelihood of his discovering who had murdered the Earl, he had to try. If no other culprit was found he would remain under suspicion, at the very least.

  In the kitchen, when he returned, he found Jenny and Maggie facing one another, arms akimbo, faces flushed, and several other servants standing round watching them, grins on their faces.

  'What's this?' he whispered to Amos, who was standing just inside the back door.

  'Constable's been here, upsettin' ev'ryone,' Amos said. 'Had the cheek ter tell 'is lordship anyone could 'a killed the old man, even 'im. Or 'is Ma. Talk abaht feathers flyin'!'

  'What's that got to do with this pair?' Luke asked, glancing at the girls who, breathing hard but silent, still faced one another, like fighting cocks. briefly Luke toyed with the fantasy of fighting hens, and he wondered whether they would fight even more viciously.

  'Constable asked where we all were while chocolate were bein' made. Miss Armitage was with the Countess, she vouched fer 'er, then Maggie said as 'ow Jenny must 'a done it when she took up the chocolate. Young Jenny lost 'er temper an' said she'd bin wi' young master a long time when she was in 'is bedroom. Proper mad Maggie were, when constable asked what she'd bin there for.'

  'Maggie? With the Viscount? You mean – ?'

  Amos winked, but Jenny suddenly spoke, her voice loud and shrill, interrupting his words.

  'Bloody whore, that's what you are!'

  'I was layin' fire, that's all!' Maggie said, almost weeping with rage. 'An' I was back in kitchen when you
were makin' that bloody chocolate, yer foul-minded slut!'

  'I saw yer goin' back upstairs, five minutes in front o' me,' Jenny said triumphantly.

  'I went ter change me apron, it were mucky!'

  'Yer can't deny that's where yer goes at nights, when 'is little lordship's at 'ome. An' little's the word, from all I 'ear!'

  'I can't 'elp it,' Maggie shrieked back at her. 'Yer knows if the master asks yer can't turn 'im down! More than yer job's worth. Get turned off without a character, then there's nothin' else but the streets!'

  Amos nudged Luke, and stepped forward. 'Was 'e any good?' he asked, chuckling. 'Kate, the laundry maid wot left a month back, said as 'e could on'y get it up once or twice. An' then on'y fer a few seconds. When 'e dain't make it, 'e blamed 'er.'

  Maggie turned on him, her eyes blazing. 'Keep yer dirty mouth shut, Amos Barlow! An' as fer you, Jenny Platt, makin' sheep's eyes at Luke all the time, yer'd soon be in 'is bed if 'e asked yer! An' without anythin' ter show fer it except a big belly! But 'e's got more bloody sense! At least I've bin paid summat!'

  She looked up and stared into Luke's eyes, then gave a sob and ran for the back stairs. They could hear her clattering up them, her sobs diminishing as she retreated.

  'I've got work ter do,' Jenny said, and sniffed, tossing her head. With a swift embarrassed glance at Luke, she went off to the store rooms beyond the kitchen, and most of the other servants, casting him doubtful looks, dispersed.

  'Silly wench,' Amos muttered. 'Daft ter tek up wi' boobies like that, even if 'e as got a title and money. Yer'd think gals might 'ave more sense, when there's a good strong man waitin' ter mek an honest woman of 'er.'

  'You?' Luke asked, surprised.

  Amos shrugged, and glared at Luke as a slow flush stained his cheeks. 'Why not?'

  'No reason. Good luck to you. She's a pretty lass. But somehow I thought you had other irons in the fire. Last night, for instance, in the coach house.'

  'Not me,' Amos shook his head. 'I were visitin' me old mother. But that explains why the door weren't locked this mornin'. I thought there'd been a robbery, but nowt was gone.'