Page 8 of The Hazardous Measure of Love
But he will be loyal to his family and perhaps one of them is the killer,I thought, pausing in the doorway.Even his father.
I knew better than to offer an opinion in the presence of the magistrate, Coroner or the doctor and they were not going to comment on the crime in front of a lady. But, fortunately, they were all talking in the hallway, so I stayed hidden behind the half-open door and jotted notes.
‘There are no wounds other than that single stab to the heart.’ I assumed that was the doctor speaking.
‘Impossible to see how it could be anything but murder.’
I frowned, puzzled: that voice sounded familiar.
‘I will hold the inquest in three days’ time,’ said another man. Clearly the Coroner. ‘I believe that there is a room of suitable size atThe Moon and Sixpenceinn: that will be nearest. I assume there is adequate time to allow you to continue your examination in more detail, Doctor Harris? Mr Prescott, you, the butler and any other servants and witnesses that Sir William here deems necessary, will receive summonses to attend. This house will remain staffed?’
Wonderful! I should have put a name to the second voice immediately. It was General Sir William Abernathy, a very senior magistrate and an old acquaintance from my very first journey back in time.
‘Yes, sir.’ Adrien sounded subdued but competent. ‘I shall attend here daily to manage affairs until I know the wishes of my uncle, Doctor Frederick Prescott, who is the heir. He a Fellow of a Cambridge college and is not in good health. This will be a considerable shock to him.’
‘To everyone, I would imagine,’ the Coroner said tartly. ‘Very well. Constable, see that the body is delivered to Doctor Harris in a respectful and decent manner and as rapidly as may be. I shall await the outcome of your further enquiries with interest, Sir William. Good day to you.’
The front door opened and closed, but I stayed where I was while the constable announced that he was going to fetch an undertaker with a temporary coffin shell and a decent cart and there was a brisk argument when Adrien insisted on a closed vehicle.
When he had finally gone, Adrien having won the point, I looked out. ‘Sir William, good morning.’
‘Why, Miss Lawrence.’ He looked surprised, as well he might. ‘I would say a pleasure, but under the circumstances, perhaps not.’
‘No, it is very sad.’ We shook hands and I decided some explanation was necessary as he was under the impression that I was a distant cousin of the family from Boston, America, a ruse to cover any slips I might make in this time. ‘I am staying with Lady Radcliffe again for a few weeks.’
‘I see.’ The one-armed ex-soldier gave me a look that plainly said he was not certain exactly what to make of me in general and my presence at a murder scene in particular.
‘I accompanied Lord Radcliffe in case any female servants were distressed,’ I said demurely, attempting to look as though nothing else would have dragged me over the threshold.
As Sir William had previously encountered me covered in blood (someone else’s) in the aftermath of rescuing a kidnapped girl, it was apparent he was not entirely convinced. Then he smiled. Thinly, it is true, but it seemed genuine. ‘I am about to question the staff. Perhaps you could accompany me, Miss Lawrence. A lady’s presence may reassure the nervous ones.’
‘Of course, if that would help.’ Hopefully I managed not to give the impression that I would have had my ear glued to the keyhole otherwise.
‘We will go into the drawing room, I think. Some formality might be helpful, but I see no need for us to be uncomfortable.’ He led the way and tugged on the bell pull, then sat in an upright chair with a small table to one side.
Luc and I followed and arranged ourselves just behind him. I took out my notebook again and concealed it as best I could in the folds of my skirts.
Grainger came in answer to the bell and was taken through the full events of Saturday, the night, and that morning in some detail. I noticed that despite his bald head gleaming in the light from the window there was no sign of perspiration. He looked upset, but not as though he had something to hide, and his account tallied closely with what he had told us.
It emerged that Lord Tillingham had been at his club on the Saturday morning and had also visited his tailor and his dentist. He had returned home in the afternoon and had worked in his study until he had taken dinner alone. Then he had returned to the study and that was the last Grainger had seen of him.
Yes, he assured Sir William, the Viscount’s mood and health appeared to be normal. He had received several deliveries of post which Grainger had brought to him. There had been nothing unusual about any of the items that he could see. Yes, his lordship habitually opened the window onto the garden. No, he had not been aware of anyone loitering around the house or any unexplained incidents in the neighbourhood recently.
‘Who was sent with the message to Mr Alexander Prescott?’ Luc asked.
The butler looked blank. ‘No one, my lord.’
‘You said he told you he had come last night in response to a message from Lord Tillingham. How had he received it?’
‘I have no idea, my lord. I was not asked to send any of the footmen with such a message.’ He frowned. ‘It is possible that his lordship stepped outside and used one of the lads who wait about in the Square for errands. Or he might have gone out of the back gate and sent one of the grooms or stable lads from the mews.’
‘Is that likely, would you say?’ Sir William asked him.
Grainger shook his head. ‘No, Sir William. It would be unprecedented in my experience.’
‘Very well. Please send up the housekeeper.’
We worked right through housekeeper, cook, two footmen, three maids, the kitchen and scullery maids, the boot boy and then three grooms, a coachman and two stable lads, all without learning anything that was of the slightest help, other than nobody admitted to taking a message to Mr Alexander, or anyone else, come to that.
