Sick of Shadows - M. C. Beaton [17]
“We’re working on it. Let’s go and see what the Honourable Cyril has to say for himself.”
They tracked Cyril down to The Club in St. James’s. His manservant had told them that was where he had gone. The gloomy Inspector Judd had at last to realize that there was some benefit in bringing Harry along, for The Club would not have allowed policemen, however high-ranking, past the entrance. Since Harry was a member, he was sent it to winkle Cyril out.
Kerridge waited outside until Cyril, protesting volubly that he would have Harry blackballed, emerged at last from The Club and was helped into the police car and they all drove to Scotland Yard.
In Kerridge’s office, a flustered Cyril was still protesting. “It is disgraceful that I should be dragged out of my club like a common criminal. I shall report you to the Home Office.”
“Settle down, Mr. Banks,” said Kerridge. “Only a few questions and then you will be driven back to your club. Now, we believe you proposed marriage to Miss Tremaine and were turned down.”
“So what?” said Cyril. He raised his monocle, screwed it firmly in one eye and glared at Kerridge.
“As you know, we are investigating her murder.”
“Here, now!” exclaimed Cyril. “I’m leaving. You’re trying to pin this murder on me!”
“Sit down, Mr. Banks. No one is accusing you of anything. We simply, at this stage, want to ask a few questions about Miss Tremaine. Did she say anything or give any indication that she was being threatened?”
“Well, no. In fact she prattled on about the countryside and how she missed it. Empty-headed sort of girl.”
“If you thought her empty-headed, why did you want to marry her?”
Cyril looked at the superintendent as if he thought the man had lost his wits.
“She was the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. What did it matter whether she had a brain or not?”
“How did you take it when you were rejected by her?”
“She didn’t reject me, the parents did. Never got as far as popping the question to her. I asked her father’s permission and he told me she was meant for greater things. I told him she couldn’t do better than me and who did he think he was anyway? A mere country rector. Silly little man.”
“Did you threaten Miss Tremaine?”
“No, I danced with her after that and I said I wanted to marry her but her father wouldn’t let me ask her and she burst into tears, right on the dance floor. Her mother came up and dragged her off. Disgraceful!”
Harry studied Cyril while the interview was going on. He could imagine such as Cyril being capable of murder. He was an extremely vain fop from the top of his bear-greased hair to his tiny patent leather boots. He had a smooth round barbered face, small eyes and a small mean mouth.
“Did she talk about any friends, any acquaintances?”
“No; may I go now?”
“I suggest you remain in London for the time being. If you have urgent business in the country, you must report to me.”
“That’s it!” said Cyril furiously. “I’m off. The Prime Minister shall hear of your treatment and no, I am not going back to The Club in your rotten motor car. I shall take a hack.”
Rose awoke late the next day. There was no sign of Daisy. She washed and dressed and went through to the living-room.
“Where is Daisy?” asked Rose.
“She very kindly took the children to school and then said she would go for a walk. I’ll make you some breakfast although they’ll all soon be back for dinner.”
Rose was feeling uneasy and ashamed of her remark about peasants. What if they had heard her?
Sally bent over her cooking pots. “It’s Plomley Fair next week and the girls are crying out for new dresses, but I told them there isn’t the money to buy new frocks every year.”
Rose thought about all her gowns lying in suitcases in the stables. “I have a great deal of clothes I will not need while I am here,” she said. “I will go out to the stables and select some items which can be made over for the girls.”
Sally stared in amazement at the young lady she had thought was a chilly aristocrat. Rose suddenly smiled. “If I were to do something, the time would