Olivia had very little appetite for breakfast. It is to be doubted,
indeed, whether she was aware of what she was eating. Elizabeth Twitcher
hovered about her, solicitous, pressing her to eat more. She was fond of
her mistress, and very uneasy lest she should have harmed her seriously
by her careless gossiping the night before. But she was surprised by the
exceedingly anxious and worried expression which dwelt on Olivia's face.
Her air grew more and more harassed. The murder of her husband had
doubtless been a shock, but he had been such a husband. Elizabeth
Twitcher had expected her mistress to cry a little about his death, and
then grow serene as she realized what a good riddance it was. But Olivia
had not cried, and she showed no likelihood whatever of becoming serene.
At the end of her short breakfast she lit a cigarette, and began to pace
up and down her sitting-room with a jerky, nervous gait, quite unlike her
wonted graceful, easy, swinging walk. She had to relight her cigarette,
and as she did so, Elizabeth Twitcher, who was clearing away the
breakfast, perceived that her hands were shaking. There was plainly more
in the matter than Elizabeth Twitcher had supposed, and she wondered,
growing more and more uneasy.
When she went downstairs with the tray she learned that Dr. Thornhill was
examining the wound which had caused the Lord Loudwater's death, and that
Mr. Flexen and Inspector Perkins were questioning Wilkins. Talking to the
other servants, she found of a sudden that she had reason for anxiety
herself, and hurried back in a panic to her mistress's boudoir. She found
Olivia still walking nervously up and down.
"The inspector and the gentleman who is acting Chief Constable are
questioning the servants, m'lady," said Elizabeth.
Olivia stopped short and stared at her with rather scared eyes.
Then she said sharply: "Go down and learn what the servants have told
them--all the servants--everything."
Her mistress's plainly greater anxiety eased a little Elizabeth
Twitcher's own panic in the matter of James Hutchings, and she went down
again to the servants' quarters.
Mr. Flexen and Inspector Perkins learnt nothing of importance from
Wilkins; but he made it clearer to Mr. Flexen that the temper of the
murdered man had indeed been abominable. Holloway, on the other hand,
proved far more enlightening. From him they learnt that Hutchings had
been discharged the day before without notice, and that he had uttered
violent threats against his employer before he went. Also they learnt
that Hutchings, who had left about four o'clock in the afternoon, had
come back to the Castle at night. Jane Pittaway, an under-house-maid, had
heard him talking to Elizabeth Twitcher in the blue drawing-room between
eleven and half-past.
Mr. Flexen questioned Holloway at length, and learned that James
Hutchings was a man of uncommonly violent temper; that it had been a
matter of debate in the servants' hall whether his furies or those of
their dead master were the worse. Then he dismissed Holloway, and sent
for Jane Pittaway. A small, sharp-eyed, sharp-featured young woman, she
was quite clear in her story. About eleven the night before she had gone
into the great hall to bring away two vases full of flowers, to be
emptied and washed next morning, and coming past the door of the blue
drawing-room, had heard voices. She had listened and recognized the
voices of Hutchings and Elizabeth Twitcher. No; she had not heard what
they were saying. The door was too thick. But he seemed to be arguing
with her. Yes; she had been surprised to find him in the house after he
had gone off like that. Besides, everybody thought that he had jilted
Elizabeth Twitcher and was keeping company with Mabel Evans, who had come
home on a holiday from her place in London to her mother's in the
village. No; she did not know how long he stayed. She minded her own
business, but, if any one asked her, she must say that he was more likely
to murder some one than any one she knew, for he had a worse temper than
his lordship even, and bullied every one he came near worse than his
lordship. In fact, she had never been able to understand how Elizabeth
Twitcher could stand him, though of course every one knew that Elizabeth
could always give as good as she got.
When Mr. Flexen thanked her and said that she might go, she displayed a
desire to remain and give them her further views on the matter. But
Inspector Perkins shooed her out of the room.
Then Wilkins came to say that Dr. Thornhill had finished his examination
and would like to see them.
He came in with a somewhat dissatisfied air, sat down heavily in the
chair the inspector pushed forward for him, and said in a
dissatisfied tone:
"The blade pierced the left ventricle, about the middle, a good inch and
a half. Death was practically instantaneous, of course."
"I took it that it must have been. The collapse had been so complete. I
suppose the blade stopped the heart dead," said Mr. Flexen.
"Absolutely dead," said the doctor. "But the thing is that I can't swear
to it that the wound was not self-inflicted. Knowing Lord Loudwater, I
could swear to it morally. There isn't the ghost of a chance that he
took his own life. But physically, his right hand might have driven that
blade into his heart."
"I thought so myself, though of course I'm no expert," said Mr. Flexen.
"And I agree with you when you say that you are morally certain that the
wound was not self-inflicted. Those bad-tempered brutes may murder other
people, but themselves never."
"Well, I've not your experience in crime, but I should say that you were
right," said the doctor.
"All the same, the fact that you cannot swear that the wound was not
self-inflicted will be of great help to the murderer, unless we get an
absolute case against him," said Mr. Flexen.
"Well, I'm sure I hope you will. Lord Loudwater had a bad temper--an
infernal temper, in fact. But that's no excuse for murdering him," said
Dr. Thornhill.
"None whatever," said Mr. Flexen. "What about the inquest? I suppose we'd
better have it as soon as possible."
"Yes. Tomorrow morning, if you can," said the doctor, rising.
"Very good. Send word to the coroner at once, Perkins. Don't go yourself.
I shall want you here," said Mr. Flexen.
He shook hands with the doctor and bade him good-day. As Inspector
Perkins went out of the room to send word to the coroner, he bade him
send Elizabeth Twitcher to him.
She was not long coming, for, in obedience to Olivia's injunction, she
was engaged in learning what the other servants knew, or thought they
knew, about the murder.
When she came into the dining-room, Mr. Flexen's keen eyes examined her
with greater care than he had given to the other servants. On Jane
Pittaway's showing, she should prove an important witness. Now Elizabeth
Twitcher was an uncommonly pretty girl, dark-eyed and dark-haired, and
her forehead and chin and the way her eyes were set in her head showed
considerable character. Mr. Flexen made up his mind on the instant that
he was going to learn from Elizabeth Twitcher exactly what Elizabeth
Twitcher thought fit to tell him and no more, for all that he perceived
that she was badly scared.
He did not beat about the bush; he said: "You had a conversation with
James Hutchings last night, about eleven o'clock, in the blue
drawing-room. Did you let him in?"
Elizabeth Twitcher's cheeks lost some more of their colour while he was
speaking, and her eyes grew more scared. She hesitated for a moment;
then she said:
"Yes. I let him in at the side door."
He had not missed her hesitation; he was sure that she was not telling
the truth.
"How did you know he was at the side door?" he said.
She hesitated again. Then she said: "He whistled to me under my window
just as I was going to bed."
Again he did not believe her.
"Did you let him out of the Castle?" he said.
"No, I didn't. He let himself out," she said quickly.
"Out of the side door?"
"How else would he go out?" she snapped.
"You don't know that he went out by the side door?" said Mr. Flexen.
Elizabeth hesitated again. Then she said sullenly: "No, I don't. I left
him in the blue drawing-room."
"In a very bad temper?" said Mr. Flexen.
"I don't know what kind of a temper he was in," she said.
Mr. Flexen paused, looking at her thoughtfully. Then he said: "I'm told
that you and he were engaged to be married, and that he broke the
engagement off."
"_I_ broke it off!" said Elizabeth angrily, and she drew herself up very
stiff and frowning.
It was Mr. Flexen's turn to hesitate. Then he made a shot, and said: "I
see. He wanted you to become engaged to him again, and you wouldn't."
Elizabeth looked at him with an air of surprise and respect, and said:
"It wasn't quite like that, sir. I didn't say as I wouldn't be his fioncy
again. I said I'd see how he behaved himself."
"Then he wasn't in a good temper," said Mr. Flexen.
"He was in a better temper than he'd any right to expect to be," said
Elizabeth with some heat.
"That's true," said Mr. Flexen, smiling at her. "But after the trouble he
had had with Lord Loudwater he couldn't be in a very good temper."
"He was too used to his lordship's tantrums to take much notice of them.
He was too much that way himself," said Elizabeth quickly.
"I see," said Mr. Flexen. "What time was it when he left you?"
"I can't rightly say. But it wasn't half-past eleven," she said.
He perceived that that was true. At the moment there was no more to be
learned from her. If she could throw any more light on the doings of
James Hutchings, she was on her guard and would not. But he had learned
that James Hutchings had not entered the Castle by the side door. Had he
entered it and left it by the library window?
He asked Elizabeth a few more unimportant questions and dismissed her.
Inspector Perkins, having sent a groom to inform the coroner of the
murder, and of the need for an early inquest into it, came back to him.
They discussed the matter of James Hutchings, and decided to have him
watched and arrest him on suspicion should he try to leave the
neighbourhood. The inspector telephoned to Low Wycombe for two of his
detectives.
Mr. Flexen questioned the rest of the servants and learned nothing new
from them. By the time he had finished the two detectives from Low
Wycombe arrived, and he sent them out to make inquiries in the village,
though he thought it unlikely that anything was to be learnt there,
unless Hutchings had been talking again.
He had risen and was about to go to the smoking-room to look round it
again, on the chance that something had escaped his eye, when Mrs.
Carruthers, the housekeeper, entered the room. None of the servants had
mentioned her to him, and it had not occurred to him that there would of
course be a housekeeper.
"Good morning, Mr. Flexen. I'm Mrs. Carruthers, the housekeeper," she
said. "You didn't send for me. But I thought I ought to see you, for
I know something which may be important, and I thought you ought to
know it, too."
"Of course. I can't know too much about an affair like this," said Mr.
Flexen quickly.
"Well, there was a woman, or rather I should say a lady, with his
lordship in the smoking-room last night--about eleven o'clock."
"Indeed?" said Mr. Flexen. "Won't you sit down? A lady you say?"
"Yes; she was a lady, though she seemed very angry and excited, and was
talking in a very high voice. I didn't recognize it, so I can't tell you
who it was. You see, I don't belong to the neighbourhood. I've only been
here six weeks."
"And how long did this interview last?" said Mr. Flexen.
"I can't tell you. It was no business of mine. I was making my round last
thing to see that the servants had left nothing about. I always do. You
know how careless they are. I went round the hall, and then I went to
bed. But, of course, I wondered about it," said Mrs. Carruthers.
Mr. Flexen looked at her refined, rather delicate face, and he did not
wonder how she had repressed her natural curiosity.
"Can you tell me whether the French window in the library, the end one,
was open at that time?" he said.
"I can't," she said in a tone of regret. "I couldn't very well open the
library door. If the door between the library and the smoking-room was
open, I should have been certain to hear something that was not meant
for my ears. And it generally is open in summer time. But I should think
it very likely that the lady came in by that window. It's always open in
summer time. In fact, his lordship always went out into the garden
through it, going from his smoking-room."
"And what time was it that you heard this?" he said.
"A few minutes past eleven. I looked round the drawing-room and the two
dining-rooms, and it was a quarter-past eleven when I came into my room."
"That's the first exact time I've got from any one yet," said Mr. Flexen
in a tone of satisfaction. "And that's all you heard?"
She hesitated, and a look of distress came over her face. Then she said:
"You have questioned Elizabeth Twitcher. Did she tell you anything about
his lordship's last quarrel with her ladyship?"
"She did not," said Mr. Flexen. "Mr. Manley told me that she had told
him about the quarrel. But I did not question her about it. I left it
till later."
Mrs. Carruthers hesitated; then she said: "It's so difficult to see what
one's duty is in a case like this."
"Well, one's obvious duty is to make no secret of anything that may throw
a light on the crime. Was it anything out of the way in the way of
quarrels? Wasn't Lord Loudwater always quarrelling with Lady Loudwater?
I've been told that he was always insulting and bullying her."
"Well, this one was rather out of the common," said Mrs. Carruthers
reluctantly. "He accused her of having kissed Colonel Grey in the East
wood and declared that he would divorce her."
"It was Colonel Grey, was it?" said Mr. Flexen.
"That is what Elizabeth Twitcher told me after supper last night. It
seems that his lordship burst in upon them when she was dressing her
ladyship's hair for dinner and blurted it out before her. I've no doubt
she was telling the truth. Twitcher is a truthful girl."
"Moderately truthful," said Mr. Flexen in a somewhat ironical tone.
"Of course she may have exaggerated. Servants do," said Mrs. Carruthers.
"And how did Lady Loudwater take it?" said Mr. Flexen.
"Twitcher said that she denied everything, and did not appear at all
upset about it. Of course, she was used to Lord Loudwater's making
scenes. He had a most dreadful temper."
"M'm," said Mr. Flexen, and he played a tune on the table with his
finger-tips, frowning thoughtfully. "Was Colonel Grey--I suppose it is
Colonel Antony Grey--the V.C. who has been staying down here?"
"Yes," said Mrs. Carruthers. "He's at the 'Cart and Horses' at
Bellingham."
"Was he on good terms with Lord Loudwater?"
"They were quite friendly up to about a fortnight ago. The Colonel used
to play billiards with his lordship and stay on to dinner two or three
times a week. Then they had a quarrel--about the way his lordship
treated her ladyship. Holloway, the footman, heard it, and the Colonel
told his lordship that he was a cad and a blackguard, and he hasn't been
here since."
"But he met Lady Loudwater in the wood?"
"So his lordship declared," said Mrs. Carruthers in a non-committal tone.
"Do you know how Lord Loudwater came to hear of their meeting?"
"Twitcher said that he must have had it from one of the
under-gamekeepers, a young fellow called William Roper. Roper asked to
see his lordship that evening and was very mysterious about his errand,
so that it looks as if she might be right. None of the servants ever went
near his lordship, if they could help it. It had to be something very
important to induce William Roper to go to him of his own accord."
"I see," said Mr. Flexen thoughtfully. "Well, I'm glad you told me about
this. Do you suppose that this Twitcher girl has talked to any one but
you about it?"
"That I can't say at all. But she has a bedroom to herself," said Mrs.
Carruthers. "Besides, if she had talked to any of the others, they would
have told you about it."
"Yes; there is that. I think it would be a good thing if you were to
give her a hint to keep it to herself. It may have no bearing whatever
on the crime. It's not probable that it has. But it's the kind of
thing to set people talking and do both Lady Loudwater and Colonel
Grey a lot of harm."
"I will give her a hint at once," said Mrs. Carruthers, rising. "But the
unfortunate thing is that if Twitcher doesn't talk, this young fellow
Roper will. And, really, Lord Loudwater gave her ladyship quite enough
trouble and unhappiness when he was alive without giving her more now
that he's dead."
"I may be able to induce William Roper to hold his tongue," said Mr.
Flexen dryly. "Certainly his talking cannot do any good in any case. And
I have gathered that Lady Loudwater has suffered quite enough already
from her husband."
"I'm sure she has; and I do hope you will be able to keep that young man
quiet," said Mrs. Carruthers, moving towards the door. As she opened it,
she paused and said: "Will you be here to lunch, Mr. Flexen?"
"To lunch and probably all the afternoon." He hesitated and added: "It
would be rather an advantage if I could sleep here, too. I do not think
that I shall need to look much further than the Castle for the solution
of this problem, though there's no telling. At any rate, I should like to
have exhausted all the possibilities of the Castle before I leave it. And
if I'm on the spot, I shall probably exhaust them much more quickly."
"Oh, that can easily be arranged. I'll see her ladyship about it at
once," said Mrs. Carruthers quickly.
"And would you ask her if she feels equal to seeing me yet?"
"Certainly, Mr. Flexen; and if she does, I'll let you know at once," she
said and went through the door.
Mr. Flexen was considering the new facts she had given him, when about
three minutes later Inspector Perkins returned; and Mr. Flexen bade him
find William Roper and bring him to him without delay. The inspector
departed briskly. He was not used to having the inquiry into a crime
conducted by the Chief Constable himself; but Mr. Flexen had impressed
the conviction on him that it was work which he thoroughly understood.
Moreover, he had been appointed acting Chief Constable of the district
during the absence of Major Arbuthnot, on the ground of his many years'
experience in the Indian Police. Also, the inspector realized that this
was, indeed, an exceptional case worthy of the personal effort of any
Chief Constable. He could not remember a case of the murder of a peer;
they had always seemed to him a class immune from anything more serious
than ordinary assault. He was pleased that Mr. Flexen was conducting the
inquiry himself, for he did not wish Scotland Yard to deal with it. Not
only would that cast a slur on the capacity of the police of the
district, but he was sure that he himself would get much more credit for
his work, if he and Mr. Flexen were successful in discovering the
murderer, than he would get if a detective inspector from Scotland Yard
were in charge of the case. Such a detective inspector might or might not
earn all the credit, but he would certainly know how to get it and
probably insist on having it.
He had not been gone a minute when Elizabeth Twitcher came into the
dining-room, said that her ladyship would be pleased to see Mr. Flexen,
and led him upstairs to her sitting-room.
He found Olivia paler than her wont, but quite composed. She had lost her
nervous air, for she had perceived very clearly that it would be
dangerous, indeed, to display the anxiety which was harassing her. It was
only natural that she should appear upset by the shock, but not that she
should appear in any way fearful.
Mr. Flexen had been told that Lady Loudwater was pretty, but he had not
been prepared to find her as charming a creature as Olivia. He made up
his mind at once to do the best he could to save her from the trouble
that the gossip about her and Colonel Grey would surely bring upon
her--if always he were satisfied that neither of them had a hand in the
crime. Looking at Olivia, nothing seemed more unlikely than that she
should be in any way connected with it. But he preserved an open mind. As
such reasons go, she was not without reasons, substantial reasons, for
getting rid of her husband, and she appeared to him to be a creature of
sufficiently delicate sensibilities to feel that husband's brutality more
than most women. At the same time he found it hard to conceive of her
using that fatal knife herself. Yet the knife is most frequently the
womanly weapon.
For her part, Olivia liked his face; but she had an uneasy feeling that
he would go further than most men in solving any problem with which he
set his mind to grapple.
They greeted one another; he sat down in a chair facing the light, though
he would have preferred that Olivia should have faced it, and expressed
his concern at the trouble which had befallen her.
Then he said: "I came to see you, Lady Loudwater, in the hope that you
might be able to throw some light on this deplorable event."
"I don't think I can," said Olivia gently. "But of course, if I can do
anything to help you find out about it I shall be very pleased to try."
She looked at him with steady, candid eyes that deepened his feeling
that she had had no hand in the crime.
"And, of course, I'll make it as little distressing for you as I can,"
he said. "Do you know whether your husband had anything worrying
him--any serious trouble of any kind which would make him likely to
commit suicide?"
"Suicide? Egbert?" cried Olivia, in a tone of such astonishment that, as
far as Mr. Flexen was concerned, the hypothesis of suicide received its
death-blow. "No. I don't know of anything which would have made him
commit suicide."
"Of course he had no money troubles; but were there any domestic troubles
which might have unhinged his mind to that extent?" said Mr. Flexen.
He wished to be able to deal with the hypothesis of suicide, should it be
put forward.
Olivia did not answer immediately. She was thinking hard. The possibility
that her husband had committed suicide, or that any one could suppose
that he had committed suicide, had never entered her head. She perceived,
however, that it was a supposition worth encouraging. At the same time,
she must not seem eager to encourage it.
"But they told me that he'd been murdered," she said.
"We cannot exclude any possibility from a matter like this, and the
possibility of suicide must be taken into account," said Mr. Flexen
quickly. "You don't know of any domestic trouble which might have induced
Lord Loudwater to make an end of himself?"
"No, I don't know of one," said Olivia firmly. "But, of course, he was
sometimes quite mad."
"Mad?" said Mr. Flexen.
"Yes, quite. I told him so last night--just before dinner. He was quite
mad. He said that I had kissed a friend of ours--at least he was a friend
of both of us till he quarrelled with my husband some weeks ago--in the
East wood. He raged about it, and declared he was going to start a
divorce action. But I didn't take much notice of it. He was always
falling into dreadful rages. There was one at breakfast about my cat and
another at lunch about the wine. He fancied it was corked."
Olivia had perceived clearly that since Elizabeth Twitcher had been a
witness of her husband's outburst about Grey, it would be merely foolish
not to be frank about it.
"But the last matter was very much more serious than the matter of the
cat or the wine," said Mr. Flexen. "You don't think that your husband
brooded on it for the rest of the evening and worked himself up into a
dangerous frame of mind?"
Olivia hesitated. She was quite sure that her husband had done nothing of
the kind, for if he had worked himself up into a dangerous frame of mind
he would assuredly have made some effort to get at her and give some
violent expression to it. But she said:
"That I can't say. I wish I'd gone down to dinner--now. But I was too
much annoyed. I dined in my boudoir. I'd had quite enough unpleasantness
for one day. Perhaps one of the servants could tell you. They may have
noticed something unusual in him--perhaps that he was brooding."
"Wilkins did say that Lord Loudwater seemed upset at dinner, and that he
was frowning most of the meal," said Mr. Flexen.
"That wasn't unusual," said Olivia somewhat pathetically. "Besides--"
She stopped short, on the very verge of saying that she was sure that
those frowns cleared from her husband's face before the sweets, for he
would never take afternoon tea, in order to have a better appetite for
dinner, and consequently was wont to begin that meal in a tetchy humour.
Such an explanation would have gone no way to support the hypothesis of
suicide. Instead of making it she said:
"Of course, he did seem frightfully upset."
"But you don't think that he was sufficiently upset to do himself an
injury?" said Mr. Flexen.
Olivia had formed a strong impression that her husband would not in any
circumstance do himself an injury; it was his part to injure others.
But she said:
"I can't say. He might have gone on working himself up all the evening. I
didn't see him after he left my dressing-room. It was there he made the
row--while I was dressing for dinner."
Mr. Flexen paused; then he said: "Mr. Manley tells me that Lord Loudwater
used to sleep every evening after dinner. Do you think that he was too
upset to go to sleep last night?"
"Oh, dear no! I've known him go to sleep in his smoking-room after a much
worse row than that!" cried Olivia.
"With you?" said Mr. Flexen quickly.
"No; with Hutchings--the butler," said Olivia.
"But that wouldn't be such a serious matter--not one to brood upon," said
Mr. Flexen.
"I suppose not," said Olivia readily.
Mr. Flexen paused again; then he said in a somewhat reluctant tone:
"There's another matter I must go into. Have you any reason to believe
that there was any other woman in Lord Loudwater's life--anything in the
nature of an intrigue? It's not a pleasant question to have to ask, but
it's really important."
"Oh, I don't expect any pleasantness where Lord Loudwater is concerned,"
said Olivia, with a sudden almost petulant impatience, for this
inquisition was a much more severe strain on her than Mr. Flexen
perceived. "Do you mean now, or before we were married?"
"Now," said Mr. Flexen.
"I haven't the slightest idea," said Olivia.
"Do you think it likely?" said Mr. Flexen.
"No, I don't--not very. I don't see how he could have got another woman
in. He was always about--always. Of course, he rode a good deal, though."
"He did, did he?" said Mr. Flexen quickly.
"Every afternoon and most mornings."
That was important. Mr. Flexen thought that he might not have to go very
far afield to find the woman who had been quarrelling with Lord Loudwater
at a few minutes past eleven the night before. She probably lived within
an easy ride of the Castle.
"I'm very much obliged to you for helping me so readily in such
distressing circumstances," he said in a grateful voice as he rose. "If
anything further occurs to you that may throw any light on the matter,
you might let me hear it with as little delay as possible."
"I will," said Olivia. "By the way, Mrs. Carruthers told me that you
would like to stay here while you were making your inquiry; please do;
and please make any use of the servants and the cars you like. My
husband's heir is still in Mesopotamia, and I expect that I shall have
to run the Castle till he comes back."
"Thank you. To stay here will be very convenient and useful," said Mr.
Flexen gratefully, and left her.
He came down the stairs thoughtfully. It seemed to him quite unlikely
that she had had anything to do with the crime, or knew anything more
about it than she had told him. Nevertheless, there was this business of
Colonel Grey and her murdered husband's threat to divorce her. They must
be borne in mind.
He would have been surprised, intrigued, and somewhat shaken in his
conviction that she had been in no way connected with the murder, had he
heard the gasp of intense relief which burst from Olivia's lips when the
door closed behind him, and seen her huddle up in her chair and begin to
cry weakly in the reaction from the strain of his inquisition.