Page 60 of Lies in Little Sutherland
“And when Doctor Meadows refused, he killed him?”
Francis shrugged, and I admitted, grudgingly, “I suppose it isn’t any worse than any other scenario we’ve come up with.”
“Rather better than some,” Francis said, “if I do say so myself.”
“It would help if we knew what he was doing between breakfast and luncheon.If he has an alibi, it can’t be him.”
“It would help if we knew what everyone was doing,” Christopher said.He turned towards the door.“I think I’ll go inquire.”
“Of whom?”
He glanced at me over his shoulder.“Anyone who’ll talk to me.Will you come?”
“I suppose I might as well.”I trotted after him towards the door.Francis and Constance didn’t move from the bed, and I added, “Not coming along?”
“We’ll stay here for a bit,” Constance said demurely.
I nodded.“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
“Doesn’t leave us with much,” Francis informed me.“Best of luck finding someone to take your place before you’re arrested, Pipsqueak.”
“Tom’s here,” I said.“I’m not worried.”
And then I was outside in the hallway, and could close the door behind me.Christopher stood on the other side of the corridor, in front of Crispin’s sitting room door, and once I had shut Constance’s door behind me, he applied his knuckles to it.
There was no answer from within, and he did it again.“Crispin?It’s me, Kit.”
But Crispin was either not inside, or not answering the call, and after a moment, Christopher turned to me.“Must have been someone else.”
“Or he simply doesn’t want to speak to us.”I looked around.“Whoever was out here must have gone into his room, or yours, or through the stairwell door.There aren’t any other doors near enough.”
“You don’t suppose Laetitia or Geoffrey might have made it to their mother’s door if they ran?”
I eyed it.“I suppose it’s possible.Although I’m not knocking on that.”
Christopher shook his head.“Nor I.We can check my room, I suppose, although I don’t know how likely it is that anyone would duck in there.”
Not at all likely, I would say.Aside from the Viscount St George, the rest of us—those of us who might have felt comfortable with taking refuge in Christopher’s room—had all been together.And Crispin would have had no reason to duck into Christopher’s bedchamber when the door to his own sitting room was no farther away.
“Any sign that the maid has come and gone?”I wanted to know.Perhaps the person we had heard in the hallway had been one of the maids, who had been worried about being caught eavesdropping.
He shook his head.“Not since this morning.They won’t be turning the beds down until later.”
“The chambermaids might know where everyone was between breakfast and luncheon,” I said.“Or at least they would know whether anyone spent that time in their room.”
“We should inquire.”He glanced at the door to the stairwell and seemed to change his mind.“Let’s go this way.”
‘This way’ was up the east wing to the central section and around the corner to the central staircase.We clattered down, and headed for the kitchen wing, where we stumbled into the servants’ dining room in time to interrupt the servants’ tea.
“Oops.”I stopped just inside the door.“Apologies.”
“Oof,” Christopher added as he ran into me and knocked me forward a step.“Sorry.”
“No matter, Master Christopher.Miss Darling.”Mrs.Mason looked from one to the other of us.“If this is about Detective Sergeant Gardiner’s accommodations, Master Crispin has already?—”
“No,” Christopher said, and flushed, while I added, “I’m sure he has done.This is about something else.”
Mrs.Mason waited, eyebrows elevated, and so did everyone else.They were all excruciatingly polite, and made me feel more out of place for it.
