Murder On A Summer's Day Part 7

'I am a detective.'

'Well then, I expect you'd like a clue. Gretna Green.'

'Gretna Green?'

'I told him it would be very romantic if we could elope to Gretna Green.'

'Did he say that he was going there?'

'It wouldn't be an elopement if he went alone, would it? I think he's making some arrangements, checking that the marriage would be valid, arranging a Hindu marriage to follow. When he came back from his ride yesterday, he brought me a four-leaf clover and said, Be mine.'

'It's unusual in a man, to know the meaning of flowers.'

'I teased him about it. I said it would take more than a weed to make me stay with him forevermore. He said there would be an even better surprise for me when he returned. And I knew it was to do with our wedding.'

'So you believe he went to make some arrangements.'

'If we'd been in London he would have sent one of his minions but they can't be trusted. I'm teaching him to do things for himself.'

'Have you told the police what you have just told me?'

She laughed. 'Our village plod? It's none of his business. I got rid of him.'

'How?'

'Oh, he came sniffing round, looking down his nose at me. I turned on my smoulder, his legs melted and he ran away.'

'I wish you had told him because it sounds odd that the maharajah would go straight from deerstalking into making arrangements for a marriage.'

'Are you saying I'm stupid?'

'Of course not.'

'When you are wealthy beyond dreams, you can do anything. He could have had a car waiting.' She spoke with more hope than conviction.

I waited for her to listen to how weak and unconvincing her words sounded.

'All right, if you must know, I am worried. Narayan can barely stand to be away from me for more than an hour or two.'

'So you have been by his side, apart from the riding, since you left London?'

'I didn't say that.'

'Miss Metcalfe, I'm not asking questions to be intrusive. I want to try and piece together events. If you tell me anything that he said or did when he was with you, something that made you believe he might act out of character, or have a plan to go somewhere apart from Gretna Green I could extend my enquiries. The physical search of the estate here is the most useful approach, but we can also build a picture, do you see?'

'It's a picture you want? Well put this in your picture. I want my maharajah back. If someone has hurt him, I'll kill them.'

'Is there anything else you can tell me? You left London when?'

She leaned back against the pillows and kicked off her shoes. 'We drove a week ago Friday from London to Chatsworth. Narayan dined with the Duke and d.u.c.h.ess of Devons.h.i.+re last Sat.u.r.day. Of course, I wasn't invited.'

'Why was that?'

She laughed, showing perfect teeth. 'I'm not the right sort, not pukka. I suppose you must be or you wouldn't be here, but you seem all right.'

'Was there a particular reason for the visit to Chatsworth?'

'He didn't say so, but I know it was to do with the Gattiawan diamond. The Koh-i-Noor diamond is on display at the British Empire Exhibition. Narayan and I went together to see it. His father had mentioned that perhaps they might loan the Gattiawan diamond for display during the second part of the exhibition, when the Koh-i-Noor is returned to the king.'

'And after Chatsworth?'

'We stayed in Derbys.h.i.+re for a few days. For once we gave that d.a.m.n valet the slip. Narayan sent him here on the train. It's ridiculous, a grown man expecting someone to dress him. I can't abide the thought of some maid messing about with me. I do for myself, thank you.'

'Did you meet anyone, talk to anyone, who may have followed you here, from London, or from Chatsworth?'

'No. We didn't tell anyone where we were going. I didn't know myself. Narayan said it was a surprise. I expect he'd talked to Devons.h.i.+re about it, about coming up here for some riding and shooting. And I believe he thought because we're far-flung here, I would able to stay at Bolton Hall. I knew I wouldn't, and I wouldn't want to.'

'Tell me about staying the night in Halton East.'

She pulled a face. 'Narayan was told Bolton Hall was still "shut up", but that if he wanted to stay there he could. They're not so subtle, these fancy aristocrats of ours. But of course, I'm meant to know my place, and they're not above trying a bit of nose-rubbing.'

'That must have upset you.'

'Not likely it didn't.' She shook her emerald bracelet at me. 'Do I look as if I care to mix with boring old farts? They won't put up with me and I won't put up with them. Narayan knows that, and he admires me for it. We spent one night with that so-called friend of his, Thurston Presthope. They were at school together. I saw through him straight away. He said his wife is away. It's obvious that she's left him. He doesn't pay his servants. He's a gambler, and a waster. There was a dead moth on the dining room table. I said to him, "What's that doing there? Do you have a wager on how long it will take to turn to dust?" Of course Presthope had to pretend to be amused.'

'What does he do, this Mr Presthope?'

'He's a so-called gentleman, which means he does nothing and hasn't two ha'pennies to rub together. He called here on Thursday. I expect he asked Narayan to lend him money.' Her startling eyes flickered with a sudden idea. 'Presthope's behind this.'

Before she had time to say more, there was a tap on the door. She made as if to leap up eagerly, then recovered her poise and leaned back, calling as she had to me, 'Enter!'

A fair-haired young chambermaid appeared in the doorway. 'Miss Metcalfe, I'm to ask if you need any help with your packing.'

'Packing? Why would I be packing?'

'The Indian gentleman, the maharajah's manservant, madam, he said you are leaving.'

Lydia picked up the ashtray and flung it at the chambermaid, missing her by a hair's breadth. 'Tell him that! Tell him I'm going nowhere till Narayan comes back.'

The chambermaid bolted from the room.

'I'll swing for that wretched creature, by G.o.d I will. I'll tell Narayan, sack him, or I leave you.'

Her emerald bracelet glinted as she raised her gla.s.s and took another drink of gin.

'Miss Metcalfe,' I tried my soothing voice. 'Is it possible that the valet expects the Indian royal family will be arriving, because of Narayan's disappearance?'

'What of it if they do? I have a right to be here.'

Bravado. Another moment and she would start to cry.

'Who is Mr Tobias Metcalfe?'

'My father. Why?'

'I believe I heard one of the estate workers mention him, and it occurred to me... No it's nothing.'

'What?'

'I wondered whether the maharajah's true purpose in coming here was to ask your father's permission to marry you.'

Her eyes widened. 'D'you know, I bet that was it. It would be just like him to play by the rules. When we arrived on Tuesday, the farm was our first call, at Narayan's insistence. He particularly wanted to see my father but he was out of luck.'

'Why was that?'

'My father wasn't there. He and my brothers stayed clear until we had gone. Narayan talked to my mother.'

'Did he mention marriage?'

'He might have said something to Mam, while I was looking round the farm. My mother always tries to give me a job, tries to draw me back in. I went to collect eggs. But Narayan would get short shrift from Dad if he asked permission to marry me. I know exactly what he'd say.'

'What?'

'The usual. Narayan's married already, his skin's the wrong colour, I'm old enough, I've been pleasing myself all my life. Shall I go on?'

'Not unless it helps to get it off your chest.'

She refilled her gla.s.s and took a long swig. Her face was now flushed, her eyes a little gla.s.sy and fierce.

'I don't understand why Narayan is taking so long. He's too used to his comforts, and that servile creature ma.s.saging his toes, or whatever he does.'

'We'll find him. Miss Metcalfe...'

'My name's Lydia. Stop calling me miss, stop rubbing it in.'

'Lydia, I've never yet looked for a missing person I haven't found.'

'Well then why are you talking to me and not out looking? Do you think I have something to do with his disappearance, that I've murdered him and shoved the body under the bed? That b.l.o.o.d.y valet tells lies about me. Narayan doesn't listen. He loves me. He would not do this to me, just disappear. Do you think someone is keeping him away from me against his will?'

'This is not bandit country, Lydia.'

It seemed unkind to remind her that she was the one who demanded her lover travel without an entourage.

I took my leave of Lydia Metcalfe, puzzling over the fact that the prince had used a go-between to bribe Lydia's father into approving a marriage he abhorred.

The sound of sobbing drew me to a room across the hall. The young chambermaid was huddled over the wash basin, splas.h.i.+ng water on her face, and crying piteously.

'Oh dear. Did that ashtray hit you? Let me see.'

'N-o-o-o, it, it didn't hit me...'

'Then what's the matter?'

'Nothing.'

'Doesn't look like nothing.'

Through her sobs, she choked out an explanation. 'I had some bad news today.'

I am sorry to say that where a polite person would pretend not to notice distress, a detective must perforce stick her oar in. It is not an entirely hard-hearted practice. The poor girl looked in need of comfort.

'It's the last straw her flinging the ashtray at me. I was keeping up well. I only cried a bit. I would've cried later, on my own time, except he'd hear me and be glad.'

'Who on earth would be glad to hear you cry?'

'My dad.' She gave in to a fresh bout of tears and sought in vain for a handkerchief.

'Here, take mine.'

'Thank you.'

'Sit down. Give yourself time to recover.'

Whether this was the right approach, I had no idea. Perhaps the Bolton Hall servant had the better way, ordering her young workmate to snap out of it.

I sat beside the girl as she cried. 'What is your name?'

'Rachel Simpson.'

'Rachel, are your tears for Osbert Hannon?'

She snuffled. 'Aye, and for me an' all. He should've married me. She s.n.a.t.c.hed him from under my nose. They'll see when she has the bairn. They'll all know how she caught him.'

And some of them may resent him enough to kill him. Love, hate, jealousy, they are all strong motives for murder.

I filled a gla.s.s with water. 'Take a sip, Rachel. You'll feel better if you tell me about it.'

I listened to the old, old story, at the same time following another train of thought.

An old memory nagged at me.

I had been at a dinner party at Aunt Berta's. We ladies had withdrawn, ostensibly to play cards but really for a good old gossip. Someone had told a tale about a maharajah who wors.h.i.+pped a sixteen-year-old Spanish dancer. When she refused his advances, he wrote to her father three times, finally offering a hundred thousand pounds if the girl would marry him. It worked.

Knowing of Mr Metcalfe's animosity, it made sense for Prince Narayan to use a local man as go-between to offer money to Lydia's father in exchange for his blessing on their marriage. The prince was used to having someone else take care of his business. Who better than his old school friend, Presthope?

But what if that old school friend found another use for the money?

Of course Presthope may have acted honourably and pa.s.sed on the ten thousand pounds, or the offer of it, to Tobias Metcalfe.