Page 6 of The Hazardous Measure of Love
‘Go on,’ I encouraged. ‘Anything you can tell us will be helpful in catching Lord Tillingham’s murderer.’
‘He had no humour about him,’ Grainger said slowly, as though trying to analyse his late employer for the first time.
‘Ponderous?’ Luc suggested.
‘That would be the word, my lord. Everything had to be just so and if it were not, he would explain, very calmly, how things should be.’ He hesitated, as though recalling something. ‘Even if someone became agitated and spoke loudly, he would answer very evenly, but firm-like. One knew where one was with him, I must say,’ he added, with the air of a man grasping at something positive to say.
‘Any members of the staff holding a grudge?’ Luc asked. ‘Someone who had been found wanting and lectured on the subject, or who’d had wages docked? Anyone serving out their notice or recently dismissed?’
‘Nobody except Campbell the third footman. He left yesterday. He was mimicking his lordship and Lord Tillingham overheard him. Dismissed him on the spot. Said it was not for the mockery, because a gentleman must learn to take criticism from whatever quarter it came, but because it was a Sunday and he would not have frivolity on the Sabbath. Besides, drink had been taken and Campbell was decidedly the worse for it. I persuaded his lordship to give him a week and he gave him another week’s wages in lieu of notice, but no character. Campbell will have trouble finding another place without references,’ Grainger added in a voice of gloom.
I was making unobtrusive notes and looked up hopefully. This sounded like a man with a motive for revenge. ‘Where has he gone? Do you have an address?’
‘I regret not, ma’am. He left very early this morning without a word to anyone, when by rights he should have worked today as well. I wasn’t surprised, to tell you the truth. Last night in the servants’ hall he was very bitter. I had to speak firmly to him.’
‘Uttering threats?’
‘Difficult to say, my lord. When he was agitated his accent became exceedingly broad. He’s a North Briton, you understand. Angus Campbell, his name is.’
North Briton? That was what they often called Scotland, I remembered, noting Campbell’s full name.
‘Were there any visitors last night?’ Luc asked.
‘Only my lord’s uncle, at about eleven o’clock,’ Grainger said, apparently unaware that he had just dropped a bombshell. ‘Mr Alexander Prescott, that is.’
‘And you saw Lord Tillingham then? You presumably brought in refreshments.’
‘Well, no, my lord. I would not unless Lord Tillingham rang. Mr Alexander arrived and said he’d had a message that Lord Tillingham required his presence. He went through to the study without me announcing him, as was his habit. He left again just as the hall clock struck half past the hour. He seemed… notangry, my lord. More put out, I would say.’ He screwed up his face with the effort of finding the right words. ‘Tight-lipped.’
‘And Mr Alexander is Mr Adrien Prescott’s uncle?’
‘No, my lord. His father.’
At which point there was a tap on the door and Adrien himself looked in. ‘The doctor is here, and the magistrate. He has sent his man for the Coroner.’ He appeared to notice suddenly that we were all staring at him. ‘Is something wrong? I mean –’
Chapter Three
‘That will be all, thank you, Grainger. I suggest you gather the entire staff together. I am sure the magistrate will wish to speak to them. In the meantime they should not talk about this amongst themselves. Mr Prescott, a word if you can spare a moment.’
‘My lord.’
The butler left and Adrien came right in to the room.
‘Close the door and come and sit down,’ Luc said. ‘Were you aware that your father was here last night?’
‘He was? When? I thought he was at a reception at St James’s Palace. They all were.’ Then the import sank in and he sat up abruptly. ‘At what time?’
‘According to Grainger, he arrived at about eleven in response to a message and left at half past the hour in no very good mood. Tight-lipped, apparently.’
‘He must have been the last person to see Cousin Henry. Other than the murderer, of course.’
‘Yes, of course,’ Luc said, expressionless. ‘He got on well with his nephew, I assume?’
‘Of course.’ Adrien started to shrug, then froze. ‘What are you suggesting, my lord?’
‘Nothing whatsoever. I am simply puzzled as to why he would leave a, presumably important, reception to answer a summons at that hour.’
‘My father is a stickler for the proprieties. Henry is – was– head of the family and, therefore, his word must be obeyed. He was only fifteen years younger than my father, and quite, er,maturein his attitude. It wouldn’t have been like an older man running because some youngster snapped his fingers.’
