Snobbery With Violence - M. C. Beaton [54]
“I can’t,” said Harry. “There is a dangerous murderer loose in this castle. If he is not caught soon, there will be another murder.”
The door burst open and Lord Hedley strode in. “This is disgraceful!” he spluttered. “There’s a reporter and photographer from the Daily Mail trying to gain access. Who told them?”
“Not anyone in Scotland Yard, I can assure you.”
“You can’t keep anything like this hushed up,” said Harry. “You’d better give them a statement.”
“Damned if I will.”
“They’ll talk to the villagers.”
“Anyone who speaks to the press will find himself without a roof over his head.”
“And that would make a good story,” said Harry wearily. “ ‘ Wicked Aristocrat in Castle of Death Punishes Innocent Villagers.’ “
“I am not talking to the gutter press, and that’s that!”
The marquess stormed out.
“To get back to business,” said Kerridge. “I have men dragging the moat.”
“For the maid’s suitcase?”
“Yes, I tliink it was probably thrown in after her. The preliminary examination seems to indicate she did not die from drowning but from a severe blow to the head. To speed things up this time, I have a squad of detectives interviewing the guests and the staff.”
“I think a policeman should be put on guard outside Lady Rose’s door. I don’t think our murderer will try anything with all of you in the castle, but I would like to be sure.”
Kerridge turned to Inspector Judd. “See to that, Judd.” He turned back to Harry. “I am told Lady Rose is too ill to be questioned.”
“I think you will find, on the contrary, that she is anxious to see you. There is a rumour circulating that she was so enamoured of me that she threw herself in the moat so that I would rescue her.”
“Only a cloth-head would believe that!”
“Oh, you’ll find plenty of those.”
Kerridge got to his feet. “I’ll see Lady Rose now.”
In Rose’s bedroom, Kerridge pulled up a chair next to the bed and sat down. “I must say, you look remarkably well, considering your ordeal,” said Kerridge. Harry, who had insisted on accompanying him, sat on the other side of the bed.
Rose told her story and ended by saying, “I know you must think I am stupid not to have told anyone. I thought it might turn out to be one of the servants.”
“Have you any impression of the person who pushed you?” asked the superintendent. “Height?”
“No, it all happened so quickly. I was lucky. If I hadn’t been pushed so violently, I might not have dropped clear of the castle walls, and if Captain Cathcart hadn’t arrived to rescue me, I would have drowned.” She held up her small white hands. “Useless,” she said bitterly. “Utterly useless. I can’t swim. I can’t do anything. I am weary of dressing and undressing. That is all I am expected to do. Spend hours at the dressing-table preparing for the next lavish meal.”
“Now, my lady,” said Kerridge. “You have been very brave. It must be difficult for you.”
“I always feel as if I am outside of them all, surveying some elaborate play and I do not know my lines,” said Rose.
“I think Lady Rose really needs more rest,” said Harry anxiously. “I think she is suffering from delayed shock.”
“Sounded to me like a burst of intelligence,” said Kerridge. “men I think...”
“Yes, yes,” said Harry impatiently. “Long live the revolution. But Lady Rose really needs to recover.”
“You come with me,” said Kerridge to Daisy. “Won’t,” said Daisy. “I’m not leaving her!” “There’s a policeman on duty outside the door,” said Harry. “It’s all right, Daisy. The superintendent won’t keep you long.”
Kerridge led Daisy into the study. He began to ask questions but then just sat back and listened, enthralled, as Daisy told him everything that had happened since she had arrived at the castle with Rose—the hauntings, the ouija board, Margaret’s affair with Lord Hedley, her belief that Colette knew something, the journey to see Quinn—all the little bits and pieces neither Rose nor Harry had told the superintendent.
When she had finished, he said, “What amazes me, Miss Levine, is that there is no atmosphere of fear in the castle. No