Page 8 of Murder at Hambledon Hall
We both added cucumber sandwiches to our plates. “Do you find this all very odd?” I whispered. “A man has died and everyone is carrying on as normal. Not only that, but I believe the police have already left.”
“They have.”
“Why didn’t the sergeant speak to me about the argument I overheard in the woods? I gather Lord Kershaw will try to place the blame on that man, so I expected to be questioned about it, if only to add weight to his theory.”
“His lordship passed on your account. You didn’t see his face, he wore a cap, you couldn’t hear their words, but you sensed they were heated…” He waved a sandwich in the air before taking a bite. “There’s nothing more to it, is there?”
He was right, there wasn’t, but I would have liked the opportunity to give my version.
Through a combination of eavesdropping and asking discreet questions, by the time the servants came to clear away the plates and glasses, I’d learned that the only people unaccounted for at the time of the gunshot were Lord and Lady Kershaw, Mr. and Mrs. Browning, Janet Browning, and Lady Elizabeth. The rest were either playing tennis or walking in the garden with one or more witnesses. Hopefully Harmony had similar success with the staff, which would leave us with a limited pool of suspects.
Despite Lady Kershaw’s efforts,the mood at Hambledon Hall was strange. It didn’t feel right to continue as we were. Playing sports and parlor games required a liveliness that no one felt comfortable expressing, even those of us who didn’t know Mr. Shepherd. Yet the air was not heavy with mourning, either. Lord and Lady Kershaw seemed unaffected by the gamekeeper’s passing, and the footmen and butler maintained typically blank expressions as they carried out their duties.
It wasn’t until most of the guests had dispersed to their rooms after lunch finished that I saw Lord and Lady Kershaw having a terse discussion at the end of the terrace. I couldn’t hear the words exchanged, but it was obvious from their faces and the way they held themselves that all wasn’t well. Her lips formed a thin line, while he scrubbed one forefinger so vigorously, I worried he’d remove skin.
When we met in my bedroom, Harmony reported the mood was similar below stairs. “The only person mourning him is one of the young maids. The housekeeper sent her to her room, because she won’t stop crying. The rest seem unaffected.”
“Are they pleased, do you think? Relieved?”
“It’s difficult to say. They’re not giving much away in front of the visiting maids and valets. They exchange glances with each other from time to time, but it’s not clear what message they’re conveying among themselves. I think they’re still coming to terms with the fact he’s actually gone. I got the impression Mr. Shepherd was quite the fixture at Hambledon.”
“He has worked here for years, apparently. His father was the gamekeeper before him, so he grew up on the estate.”
“Lord Kershaw would have known him since childhood,” she pointed out.
“As would his sister, Mrs. Browning. His aunt, Lady Elizabeth, would have known him since he was born. If Shepherd’s murder is the result of a long-held grudge, then they should be our prime suspects.”
Harmony arched her brows at me. “Lady Elizabeth seems rather doddery. I doubt she could hold a gun steady.”
I agreed it wasn’t likely. “The shot was spot on. It probably killed him instantly. Such accuracy requires a steady hand and good eye.”
“And experience. I suspect it would require years of practice.”
She had a point. While the women hadn’t participated in the shooting the day before, it didn’t rule them out. I’d have to discover whether Lady Kershaw, Mrs. Browning and Janet had any skill with firearms.
We spent some time searching the woods for the missing antique rifle. Finding it before it was returned to the armory would be a great help in narrowing down the list of suspects. Most had come from the house after hearing the gunshot, but the Reverend Pritchard had approached from along the driveway. There was also the fellow in the gray cap we’d seen earlier. If the rifle had been stashed behind a bush or tree, either one must surely be the murderer.
While we searched, Harmony informed me that the only staff member unaccounted for at the time of the gunshot was the butler. “Everyone else was with at least one other member of staff who can vouch for them. The butler was in his room, napping, according to gossip. His room is on the top floor.”
“The top floor? He descended quickly to be among the first group to emerge from the house. And napping in the middle of the day you say?”
“I gather he likes a nip of his lordship’s brandy, and its effects catch up to him. He’s getting on a bit.”
I poked at a bush with a stick, but there was nothing hidden beneath it. “How long has he worked at Hambledon Hall?”
“More than thirty years. He started here as a footman and worked his way up. He’s certainly a suspect, although I don’t know why he would want to kill the gamekeeper.” She planted her hands on her hips and looked around at all the trees. “There’s too much ground to cover, and you have to return to the house to change for the excursion to the river.”
Lady Kershaw had decided we ladies should go for a drive while the gentlemen played billiards. Aunt Lilian had already declined, claiming she had a raging headache. “I’m not going. I’ll say I want to stay with my aunt.”
Harmony’s eyes brightened. “You have a plan, don’t you? Are you going to watch the armory to see who returns the missing rifle? That’ll be difficult with the men in the billiard room nearby.”
“I’ll ask Floyd to keep one eye on the armory door while he’s playing. I’ll do something else. Something that involves you.”
“Then I like your idea already. Where are we going?”
“To the gamekeeper’s cottage. He lived alone, so it should be empty. I doubt the police will have bothered looking there, if the sergeant has already made up his mind about the culprit.”
Harmonyand I were prepared to climb through a window at the gamekeeper’s cottage if necessary, however the lock on the door gave me no trouble. Surrounded by the woods on the Hambledon estate, it was cool inside. Built from the same grim, dark stone as the main house, the cottage would be a miserable place in the depths of winter.
