Sick of Shadows - M. C. Beaton [69]
“I do not think you understand the gravity of the situation, Mr. Tremaine,” began Kerridge. He sat down opposite Jeremy; Judd joined him and Harry sat in the corner of the room beside a policeman with a shorthand pad.
“I have done nothing wrong,” said Jeremy. “God is my witness.”
“Do you realize that because of your silence, you will all hang? Do you want to know that you sent your parents to a shameful death?”
“There is no proof.”
“Your servants are talking now. On the night Dolly was killed, they heard her screaming, ‘No! Don’t!’ We have the proof that you visited Reg Bolton in prison. He had money in his wallet. I am sure we can trace it to your bank. You killed the footman, Will Hubbard, or had Bolton do it for you. The police are interviewing everyone in Sweetwater Lane armed with photographs of you and of Bolton. But until there is actual proof that you yourself killed your sister, there will be enough circumstantial evidence to hang the lot of you.”
Jeremy buried his head in his hands.
Harry suddenly spoke from his corner. “Had she been your own sister, you would not have killed her. But she was not your real sister, was she? Out with it, man. Confession is good for the soul, and you will be double-damned if you let your parents hang.”
Jeremy began to sob. They waited patiently. At last he dried his eyes on his sleeve. “All right,” he said in a weary voice. “All right. I’ll tell you.
“It was Father’s fault to start with. He had a good parish in Oxfordshire. But he got one of our servant girls pregnant. He had the living from Lord Dyrecombe. The girl went to Lady Dyrecombe. My father said it was her word against his, but the girl was the daughter of one of the Dyrecombes’ respected tenants and they believed her. My father was told to look for another living. The bishop was angry with him and Apton Magna was all that was on offer. After the baby was born, the servant girl drowned herself and Lady Dyrecombe called on my father and said the least we could do was to bring the baby up as our own.
“My father had little to do with her until he noticed that she had become a great beauty. We all saw a way to restore our prestige and fortunes through Dolly. My father had received an inheritance and we decided to give Dolly a Season in London. She said she was in love with the blacksmith’s son, but we told her she owed us everything.”
He spoke in a dull, flat monotone. For a moment the only sound was the policeman’s pencil catching up on his shorthand notes.
Jeremy sighed and began to speak again.
“Then Lord Berrow asked leave to pay his addresses. We told her he would be calling in the morning and she was to accept. We had such hopes. Berrow had spoken to me. He said once he was married to Dolly and I had finished my studies at Oxford, he could get me a good living, maybe even in Mayfair. He also said he would speak to the archbishop and get my father somewhere better than Apton Magna. We were so full of hope. We were so happy.
“Then Dolly began to scream that she would not do it, that she was going to run away. She went to her room.
“My parents sent me to see her. She defied me. She dared to laugh in my face. Me! That cuckoo in our family nest, that bastard, dared to laugh at me. I was blind with rage. I went to my room and got a dagger, a Turkish one, that someone had given me.
“I went back to her room and held it on her. ‘You will do as you’re told,’ I said, ‘or I will kill you.’
“She laughed again. ‘You! You’re not a man like my Roger,’ she said. ‘You wouldn’t dare.’ ”
“That’s when I stabbed her. There was blood everywhere. My parents came rushing in.
“We knew we had to get her away from the house. At the ball we’d seen her slipping a note to Lady Rose, and we stole it. We knew she planned to meet Lady Rose at the Serpentine. We thought, let Lady Rose find the body. With luck they’ll think she did it.
“We’d had that Lady of Shalott costume made for her, because her engagement was to be announced at the