Page 65 of Murder at Hambledon Hall
I sighed. She was fortunate to have someone who provided her with strawberry tarts. I realized it was my own fault that I didn’t have a special man to bring me little tokens of affection, but that didn’t improve my mood. It only dampened it further.
“You two are so happy lately,” I said.
“Things are good between us. Better than good. I don’t want anything to change.”
“I hope for your sake it doesn’t.” I tucked into my salmon, not waiting for Harmony. “Apologies for my haste,” I said after swallowing my first mouthful. “I want to catch Mrs. Browning before she retires. I don’t want her to have a reason to turn me away when she sees me on her doorstep.”
“Eat as quickly as you like without giving yourself a stomachache. But if you have the time, can you tell me what you’re going to ask her. I’m wildly curious about this case, since I was there at the time of the murder. I’m also quite bored.”
I gave her a sympathetic look. “I’ll not only tell you what Harry and I have learned so far, but I have a task for you to do tomorrow after you finish your cleaning round.”
She listened as I told her we’d found a silver spoon hidden in Faine’s room, which confirmed he was stealing from Hambledon Hall. I mentioned the letters we’d found in the church office, and how that led us to a confrontation with the new vicar at St. Michael’s in Marylebone.
“That’s where I’d like you to go tomorrow,” I said. “The vicar who took over from Pritchard will recognize me, but you’re a stranger to him. I want you to ask to see the parish registers.”
“Christenings or marriages?”
“Both. I don’t know what to look for, but I’m hoping it will be obvious when you see it.”
“How will that tell you what Pritchard did to earn himself a hasty removal to Morcombe?”
“It’s nothing to do with him. According to Lady Kershaw, he was quickly moved on because he likes men. I want you to look through the parish records because I think that’s why Shepherd was there. I don’t yet know what he was looking for, or if it’s relevant to his murder. It’s possible it isn’t, and he was killed by Pritchard after all when he attempted to blackmail the vicar.”
“Blackmail sounds like something Shepherd would do. Horrid man.”
“Your opinion will continue to decline after you hear what we learned from the former nanny, Miss Crippen. Keep this to yourself, though. I promised not to spread her secret.” I told her about Esmond Shepherd’s abandonment of Phyllida Crippen in her time of greatest need.
Harmony was furious, but not shocked. “Men like him don’t take responsibility for their actions. Unfortunately, it happens all too often. Those are the sort of men who should be stopped visiting the rooms of maids with rules like Mrs. Short’s. Not genuinely good men with honest intentions.”
“I agree. But there’s more. Miss Crippen told us that she overheard Mrs. Browning arguing with Shepherd. It sounded like they’d once had a relationship but it had soured, and she was warning him not to go near her daughter, Janet.”
“That’s why you want to speak to Mrs. Browning tonight? I don’t envy you. Good luck, Cleo. You’re going to need it.”
Indeed I would. Mrs. Browning was prickly at the best of times. Confronting her about such a sensitive topic would be difficult.
I triedthe same tactic on Mrs. Browning that had been a success with Lady Kershaw. I arrived at her door with a tea tray. She didn’t move aside and let me in, however.
She crossed her arms over her chest. “I didn’t order tea.”
“I thought you might appreciate it, nevertheless.”
“I have a headache, and I don’t want tea. Goodnight, Miss Fox.”
“I thought you might try to avoid me, so let me tell you why you should let me in. Either you can give me your version of events, or you can talk to Scotland Yard.”
“The murder isn’t a London matter.”
“It will be when they learn Sergeant Honeyman is overlooking evidence because your brother told him to.”
Her nostrils flared.
“Believe me, I am the kinder option of the two, and the one that will draw less publicity. I don’t want to upset your family, because that will upset my family. I offer you discretion and understanding.”
She considered my proposal with another flare of her nostrils then grabbed the tray out of my hands and led the way through to the sitting room. She set the tray down on the table so heavily that the cups rattled in their saucers.
“Let’s get this over with,” she snapped as she poured the tea.
I cleared my throat to give myself a moment to compose myself. I didn’t want her to see that I was as rattled as the cups. What I had to say first could see me unceremoniously banished. “You had an affair with Esmond Shepherd.”
