Page 37 of The Meriwell Legacy
“Colonel Humphries.” Carradale glanced sidelong at Miss Whittaker. “Without wishing to impugn Miss Johnson’s character in any way, the colonel is known to have a wandering eye. If he’d taken up with Miss Johnson in London and continued to pursue her here…” Carradale blinked. “I suppose, really, that the motive applies more to Mrs. Humphries than the colonel, and my mind boggles at the thought of meek and slight Mrs. Humphries strangling anyone.”
“Unless Glynis was foolish enough to threaten to make a public brouhaha.” Penelope looked at Miss Whittaker. “Is that likely, do you think?”
Miss Whittaker frowned. After a moment, she said, “Sadly, I didn’t know Glynis well enough to be able to give you a definitive answer. She and I weren’t close. However, once Mrs. Macomber wakes, we can ask her if Glynis had met the colonel in London.”
“Is Mrs. Macomber likely to wake soon?” Stokes asked. “We have several key questions to put to her.”
“We expect her to wake properly sometime today,” Miss Whittaker replied. “My maid is sitting with her and will send word the instant Mrs. Macomber is compos mentis.”
“Good.” Stokes jotted a note in his notebook. He flipped back through the pages, then looked at Carradale and Miss Whittaker. “I think we’ve extracted all we can from the pair of you to this point. However, I’d like to ask if you’re willing to sit in the next room”—he tipped his head to where a door to the adjoining room stood ajar—“out of sight, and listen to our interviews with the rest of the guests. Normally, I wouldn’t ask such a thing, but we’re up against it time-wise, and if someone lies, we won’t have time to backtrack and check with others to catch them out.”
Stokes closed his lips on further persuasion and waited, his gaze on Carradale and Miss Whittaker.
The pair exchanged a long glance, then Carradale looked at Stokes. “If that’s the fastest way to identifying the murderer…then yes. I’ll do it.”
Miss Whittaker nodded, but added nothing more.
Together with Stokes, the pair rose. He saw them settled in the next room, then returned to the desk. Reclaiming his chair, he glanced at Barnaby and Penelope, seated to either side. “As we’re all agreed that Miss Johnson’s murder is the precipitating event, and Mrs. Cleary was murdered as an outcome of that, I propose we focus on the first murder. If we can identify Glynis Johnson’s murderer, we’ll have our man.”
Barnaby and Penelope both nodded in agreement.
Stokes looked at Philpott. “Let’s start with the host. Ask the footman outside to fetch Mr. Percy Mandeville.”
Percy Mandeville came in looking nervous and unsure, but not in a guilty way.
Penelope’s first question was why he’d invited Miss Johnson, an unmarried young lady, to an event more normally the province of the married-and-racy, not to say licentious set.
Percy’s expression blanked. He blinked slowly, then, his tone flat, offered, “I’d met her in town. Freddy Collins and I…we started talking that perhaps it was time to change things somewhat, perhaps make the house party a bitlessracy, and why not invite two good-looking young ladies…” Percy swallowed. “Freddy suggested Miss Weldon, and Miss Johnson was an acquaintance, so…” He looked down at his hands, clasped tightly between his knees. “I invited them both.” He quickly looked up. “And their chaperons, of course. There was never any intention of them being…harmed in any way…” His voice faltered and he breathed, “Oh God.”
The shock that still held him was obvious.
After a moment, Stokes took up the questioning; he led Percy through the events of Monday evening, confirming the movements of Glynis Johnson as far as Percy knew them. He denied noting anything out of the ordinary, any altercation or disagreement with any of the men—not even any specific interaction with one.
“Well, other than strolling on the terrace with Alaric—Carradale, that is.” Percy stared at Stokes. “But I think that was just that she wanted some air and saw Carradale as…safe. He’s more mature, and he’s not the sort to pursue young ladies.”
Penelope arched her brows, but then nodded. “That was insightful of her and essentially correct.”
Stokes confirmed that Carradale had left for home before the guests retired.
“Yes.” Percy added, “We talked and chatted for about an hour more, then the ladies went up, and the gentlemen followed.” He paused, then said, “Miss Johnson should have been with the other ladies.”
“You didn’t see her elsewhere?” Stokes asked.
“Edward and I brought up the rear, and I went to my room. I didn’t see Miss Johnson anywhere about.”
“As to your movements during the night, can anyone confirm where you were? And come to that, can you confirm the whereabouts of anyone else?”
Faint color touched Percy’s pallid cheeks. “Er…no. I spent the night alone, in my bed.”
After Percy, they called in Edward Mandeville. Carradale had described him as arrogant and pompous, and for Stokes’s money, stiff-rumped could be added to the list. Edward was thrown off balance by having to face both Stokes—who he patently regarded as a social inferior—and Barnaby and Penelope, who were unquestionably of higher social rank than he. In the interests of getting on as fast as possible, Stokes left the interrogation to Barnaby. As Edward hadn’t been acquainted with the guests prior to meeting them at this party and his attention seemed to have been primarily on Percy and his interactions, in the matter of Miss Johnson, they had little joy of Edward.
When asked as to his movements during Monday night, he looked faintly shocked, then stated unequivocally that he’d retired to his room and had remained there throughout.
Next came Mr. Montague Radleigh, Carradale’s cousin. He hadn’t met Glynis before the party, and although he seemed quite observant, about Glynis, he could tell them no more than Percy.
“Although,” Stokes said as the door closed behind Radleigh, “he did confirm everything Percy Mandeville said.”
Radleigh had also spent the night in his allocated bed; given the reluctance with which he admitted that, they were inclined to believe him.
