Page 24 of Lies in Little Sutherland
“All the more reason why he might want one now.”
I supposed that was true.“Sutherland Hall it is, then.We’ll regroup once we get there.”
And hie ourselves elsewhere as quickly as possible if everyone else had left.There was no way I wanted to spend time at Sutherland Hall without Aunt Roz and Uncle Herbert and the Marsdens to serve as distractions.Uncle Harold had never liked me, and had never made a secret of it.And the closer we came to Crispin’s nuptials, the higher the tension ratcheted.Every day was a new chance for something to break—Crispin’s sanity, or perhaps my resolve to stay out of it—and every day, in Uncle Harold’s view, was another opportunity for the two of us to elope and ruin his plans for his son’s future.
As we headed down the road towards Wiltshire, I was fully prepared to have to shove my belongings into my weekender bag and decamping practically as soon as we arrived.
When we did, however, it was to find everything almost exactly as we had left it.We arrived in time for supper, and the same group was gathered around the table as had been there the night before we left.
“Tell us what happened,” Aunt Roz demanded as we waited for the soup to be taken away and the fish served.“From the moment you arrived in the Cotswolds until the time you left.Tidwell didn’t know much, and we want to hear everything.”
“There’s nothing much to tell,” Francis told her.“We gave Tidwell the important information when we rang up on Sunday night.”
Aunt Roz nodded pleasantly.“And now you can tell me the rest.”
“We motored up to Lower Slaughter,” I said, “and Christopher went to look at the church there.The vicar’s wife told us to try Upper Slaughter instead.”
“So we motored there,” Francis said.“And when we got there, we ate lunch.On a bench by the river, because the public house was closed.”
“And the local constable came by and told us where Morrison lived.In a row of cottages on the square in Upper Slaughter.Very picturesque.”
“When she didn’t answer the knock on her front door,” Christopher picked up the narrative, “we went around the back and found the kitchen door unlocked.The constable went inside and discovered her dead in bed.He and Francis motored up to Stow-on-the-Wold for reinforcements while the rest of us waited.And then we had to stay for the inquest this morning.”
“And the determination?”Uncle Harold wanted to know.
“Murder by person or persons unknown.We were given leave to go home, and went.And now we’re back here.”
“And that’s all?”My aunt glanced at me.
“That’s it,” I confirmed.“The drive was uneventful, both going and coming.There were a lot of sheep.The inn in Stow-on-the-Wold was extremely quaint.I shared with Constance and Christopher with Francis.”
Aunt Roz didn’t say anything, but she looked amused.Uncle Harold looked constipated.
“When we were asked to stay for the inquest,” I added, “I think we were all a bit worried that we were suspects.”
Across the table, Francis and Constance nodded.Constance looked rather more guilty than Francis.As she should, since she was the one who had broken into Morrison’s cottage with me while Francis had been in Stow-on-the-Wold with Constable Woodin.
“I didn’t think we were,” Christopher said, “although I agree with everything else Pippa said.”
“The inquest was held in the Methodist Chapel,” I added.“I suppose the funeral might be there, as well, unless Morrison had family somewhere, who requests the body.Would you happen to know anything about her personal situation, Lady Euphemia?”
The countess shook her head.“I’m afraid not, Miss Darling.She was part of my sister-in-law’s household, not mine.If we ever had a conversation, I don’t remember it.”
No, of course not.Why would she possibly remember speaking with a woman who dressed and undressed her sister-in-law for more than two decades, and who lived a quarter mile away from her own home for a large part of that time?
“Perhaps Mrs.Mason would know,” I said.“Did she work here at Sutherland Hall when Morrison was Aunt Charlotte’s maid?”
This was addressed, by necessity, to Uncle Harold.The look he gave me in return suggested that as far as he was concerned, I was lower on the scale than where Lady Euphemia had placed Morrison, so I shouldn’t expect him to deign to respond.Nor did he.It was Aunt Roz who spoke up.“I don’t believe that Mrs.Mason has been here long enough for that, Pippa.”
“Cook has been here longer,” Uncle Herbert added, “and Tidwell.They may know.”
“I don’t suppose it matters,” I said, since it had really only been a ploy to find out whether Lady Euphemia knew who Edith Morrison was.“It’s none of our concern what happens to the body.She left Constance’s mother’s house of her own free will, after all.”
“It certainly isn’t any of your affair, Darling,” Crispin told me.“Incurably nosy, you are.”
“You’re one to talk,” I retorted, since we both knew his penchant for listening at doors and windows, and in secret passages.“You couldn’t care less what happens to the body, I’m certain.”
He looked surprised.“No, of course I couldn’t.I’ve never set eyes on the woman.Why should I care what becomes of her remains?”
