The Folly at Falconbridge Hall Read online

  A crude analogy, but accurate. Hewson’s words were brutal, but they hadn’t hurt quite as much as they might once have done. Julian could think only of Vanessa now. Explaining all this to her would be hard. He didn’t know what he would do if he found disappointment in her eyes. Especially now, when he wished to tell her, to convince her, that her love and Blythe’s happiness was all he lived for. What if he lost her? He went cold inside. He had to hurry home.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Vanessa was in the middle of dressing when Blythe entered the bedroom. “You’re an early bird.”

  Blythe sat cross-legged on the bed. “I thought we might get Capstick to take us to Clapham Junction after breakfast in the brougham.”

  Mary took a skirt and jacket from the wardrobe. “You can go, Mary.” Vanessa slipped into her skirt, tucking it into her blouse. She glanced through the window at the louring clouds. “Why Clapham Junction?”

  “I’d like to visit the shops.”

  “We’ll see what the weather does.” Slipping on her jacket, Vanessa began to do up the buttons but paused when she felt something hard in the pocket. She poked her fingers in and drew out the cameo. She had forgotten all about it.

  “What is that?” Blythe reached for it.

  “A cameo.” Vanessa dropped it into her hands. “Johnson found it under the folly.”

  “I remember this.” Blythe turned it over. “It must have fallen off Miss Lillicrop’s brooch.”

  Vanessa stared at her. “Are you certain, Blythe?”

  “Yes. It was her favorite.”

  “She must have lost it while sitting in the folly.”

  Blythe shook her head. “Miss Lillicrop would have told me. She wore it every day. I’m certain she wore it the last day she was here. It had some special significance, a present or something. She would never go anywhere without it.”

  Vanessa frowned. It was odd, certainly. “We’ll return it to her by post, shall we?”

  “It won’t take as long as Father’s letter, will it?”

  “No indeed.”

  The previous day a letter finally arrived from Julian. Sent from Para, at the very beginning of his trip, it made no mention of him receiving any of theirs. Although he was more concerned for their safety than declaring his love for her, missing him had caused Vanessa to toss restlessly for most of the night.

  “Go down to breakfast, sweetheart. I want to speak to Johnson.” Vanessa did up her belt and glanced in the mirror to smooth her hair.

  Vanessa made her way to the servant’s quarters, and found Johnson in the butler’s pantry, polishing the silver.

  He jumped to his feet as she entered.

  “Yes, my lady?”

  “I want you to ring Scotland Yard. I should like an inspector to call.”

  The butler’s eyebrows shot up. “Very well, my lady.”

  “That cameo belonged to the former governess, Miss Lillicrop. Blythe tells me she would not have left without it.”

  Johnson considered the same possibility as she, with a slight widening of his eyes. She prayed she was wrong as he hurried off to use the telephone.

  *****

  A short man with a ginger moustache and a green plaid suit came to see Vanessa. He removed his brown felt bowler hat and shook her hand. “Inspector James Knott, New Scotland Yard.”

  “How do you do, Inspector. Please sit down. Will you have some tea?”

  “I would appreciate it, thank you.”

  Choosing a blue linen-covered wingchair, he crossed his legs and cleared his throat. “I believe Lord Falconbridge is away?”

  “Yes, Inspector.”

  “Something has concerned you about the previous governess, my lady?”

  Vanessa explained how her suspicions had been aroused, telling him about the lantern taken into the folly and the gouges left on the folly floor. “But then my stepdaughter, Blythe, told me Miss Lillicrop always wore the cameo. Because she disappeared without notice and would not have left without it, I decided to contact the police.”

  “What makes you think she didn’t lose it in the folly?”

  “I doubt it could have fallen through the cracks in the folly floor, Inspector.”

  The inspector stroked his moustache. “I see. The local police handled the inquiry, I believe. They investigated Miss Lillicrop’s disappearance and the painting, which vanished on the same night. It has not been found since?”

  “No. The police were called again after the poor girl from the village hung herself in the wood.”

  “Mmm. The two are most likely unrelated.” He swallowed the last of his tea and replaced the cup in the saucer. He turned a page of his notebook in a business-like fashion. “Was there anything else you might deem unusual?”

  She explained about the horse and cart in the wood and the flattened bushes. “I thought it might have been poachers. But I’m told they wouldn’t use a cart.”

  “No one can explain why the cart was there?”

  “I’m afraid not. I questioned the staff. I asked Mr. Davison, the estate manager, whether he had seen anything. His office faces onto that part of the garden. He assured me he didn’t.”

  “I’ll speak to him in due course. I don’t like mysteries such as Miss Lillicrop’s disappearance left unsolved. Young women should be safe in their beds when the police are on the beat. I’ll bring in my men to search the wood.”

  “Oh?” Vanessa drew in a quick breath. She hadn’t wanted to face the possibility that Miss Lillicrop had met a violent death. “You feel that necessary?”

  “It’s merely an avenue of investigation.” He rose and held out his hand. “If you recall anything else you feel is important, please let me know. I’ll be here in the morning and bring more of my men. I hope for a quick resolution.”

  “I would be most grateful. Thank you, Inspector.”

  As good as his word, Inspector Knox appeared the next day with a dozen uniformed police and police dogs. They trailed through the wood all day but found nothing. The next day they were there at first light again. Vanessa tried to shut out the excited barking and shouting carried on the breeze, as she attempted to distract Blythe in the schoolroom.

  She and Blythe had just come from lunch when the inspector asked to see her.

  One look at the inspector’s face and she knew the news was bad. “Blythe, please go to the day nursery. I’ll join you soon.”

  After Blythe had left, the inspector spoke. “We have found a woman’s body buried in the woods. Nasty business, this, my lady. I shall need to interview every member of your staff. I’m afraid you will suffer some disruption for a while.”

  Vanessa’s knees trembled, and she needed badly to sit down. “You may use the ballroom to question the staff. I’ll help in any way I can.”

  “Please inform your staff. I will return at four. We shall be looking into the theft of the painting also.”

  “At the time, the police assumed poor Miss Lillicrop had stolen it.”

  “We know very little at this point, my lady. She may well have been involved in stealing it.”

  “And she may not. You will notify her family?”

  “When we have confirmation that the body is indeed that of Miss Agatha Lillicrop, it will be done.”

  “I shall write to them. I’d like to send the cameo, if I may.”

  “Not just yet, I’m afraid. It remains police evidence and part of the investigation. My men will remain here for some hours. There will be a post-mortem. Someone will come from the morgue and take the body away.” He rose to shake her hand. “I’ll say goodbye until four o’clock.”

  Vanessa went to find Mrs. Royce to ensure all staff members would be available for the inspector to question. She found her alone in her room. She lacked her usual brisk and busy demeanor, and seemed unfocused, rubbing her hands together as if they were cold.

  “The Inspector asked me to describe Agatha’s appearance, my lady.”

  “I’d like to know that too, Mrs. Royce.”
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  “She was a small woman, God rest her soul, with soft fair hair. I believe her eyes were blue.” Her mouth quivered. Like everyone else at the hall, the housekeeper was rattled.

  “I think everyone should stop work and have a strong cup of tea. And please warn the staff to be careful out of doors, especially the women.”

  Mrs. Royce’s eyes widened with alarm. “Certainly, my lady.”

  When the housekeeper gathered her ragged nerves together and went briskly off to carry out her orders, Vanessa roamed the house, trying to calm herself and keep busy.

  A maid came to the conservatory where Vanessa was wandering among the plants with a watering can. “Johnson wishes to see you, my lady.”

  “Can’t he come here to me?”

  “No, my lady.”

  “Very well.” Vanessa put down the can and removed her gloves.

  Johnson waited for her in the front hall. He stood in his socks, his boots in his hand. “I do apologize, my lady, but my boots are muddy. I shall attend to them forthwith.” His mouth was a thin line, and his eyes were grave. “It’s as bad a news as I can give you, my lady.”

  Vanessa swallowed. “So it is poor Agatha Lillicrop they’ve found, Johnson.”

  “Undoubtedly. The deceased woman has a broken brooch pin on her collar. I believe that cameo will fit it.”

  Vanessa fell into a chair. Could things possibly get any worse? “Johnson, I don’t want this horrible business discussed in front of Blythe. Please inform the staff.”

  “Yes, my lady.”

  A police van came and took Agatha Lillicrop’s body away. Vanessa tried to shield Blythe, but with the whole house in uproar and the servants suddenly very visible and gossiping in corners, it was impossible.

  “Why would anyone kill Miss Lillicrop?” Blythe asked her eyes huge with distress.

  “I don’t know, sweetheart. The police will find out.” Vanessa tried to keep her anguish out of her voice. She placed an arm around Blythe’s shoulders. “Shall we say a prayer for Miss Lillicrop at church on Sunday?”

  Blythe nodded and buried her face in Vanessa’s shoulder.

  Vanessa stroked Blythe’s hair. She was determined to remain strong for her, but she became increasingly unnerved.

  At four o’clock, the inspector questioned the staff. After which, he returned to speak to her in the drawing room. “Would you and the child please remain inside as much as possible? The female staff also. There’s a murderer out there somewhere, and at this stage, we have no idea who that could be.”

  Vanessa shuddered at the icy fingers climbing her spine. The inspector putting it into words somehow made it more frightening and real.

  Whatever he might have learned from the staff, he kept to himself and he left after a courteous goodbye.

  After a restless night, Vanessa spent the whole day with Blythe in the schoolroom, trying to concentrate on arithmetic and spelling. At afternoon teatime, they finally closed their books. She asked Blythe to play the piano for her and settled down to listen, sensing the child’s distress through the music. When Blythe had finished playing a halting ‘Sheep May Safely Graze’, Vanessa decided they should talk about what had happened.

  “You must be feeling very sad, sweetheart, first losing your mother and then Miss Lillicrop.”

  “I did like Miss Lillicrop,” Blythe said in a small voice, “even though she recited poetry a lot.”

  “Did she have a favorite poet?”

  “She liked Tennyson best.” Blythe ran her hands over the keys, making a jarring sound. “The Lady of Shallot.”

  Vanessa wondered again, what had happened to the governess. Was she murdered in the house and buried in the wood in the dead of night? Who would do such a thing? She suppressed a shiver.

  Blythe went to have her bath, and Vanessa hurried downstairs. Two of the servants were talking in hushed voices in the hall. She caught the tail end of a sentence “… and me mum wants me to find another position.” They caught sight of her and hurried away.

  She wondered how many of the servants would leave, as she went to fetch her sewing. She needed to keep her hands busy.

  *****

  True to their word, the police were ever present at Falconbridge Hall, searching the house and trolling the gardens and the woods. They questioned each of the staff, some more than once. The air seemed to crackle with tension and expectation. The servants scurried about with their heads down. Everyone’s opinions were no doubt, expressed in the servants’ hall.

  The scullery maid, Molly, a girl of barely seventeen, gave notice, and Vanessa was relieved to let the frightened girl go. Falconbridge Hall wasn’t a place for the tender hearted. She expected others to follow, but so far, everyone had remained loyal to the family.

  Johnson and Mrs. Royce proved their worth each and every day, with Johnson fending off newspaper reporters and the inquisitive. Julian had been right. No one passed through the front door unless invited.

  Mrs. Royce came to tell her she’d produced a replacement for Molly, a niece of hers who didn’t seem intimidated by the constant stream of big, flat-footed policemen stomping through the corridors and across the grounds, clasping their truncheons as if some foe might leap out of a bush at any moment. Perhaps she took after Mrs. Royce, Vanessa thought with a brief flash of amusement.

  “It’s just as well Molly did go, my lady,” Mrs. Royce said darkly. “I’m not one for dismissing silly young women for making a mistake, though.”

  “What do you mean, Mrs. Royce?”

  “She just confessed to me that Lovel has been having his way with her.”

  Vanessa felt a swift rush of anger, heating her face. “Molly’s barely out of childhood.”

  Mrs. Royce nodded. “I talked to her. She admits it was wrong. It was by God’s grace that nothing eventuated, if you know what I mean.”

  “This must not happen again. I shall speak to Lovel, Mrs. Royce.” And have him replaced, Vanessa thought. Julian would surely agree.

  “As you wish, my lady. But it would be like trying to stop a rutting ram, stopping that one.”

  Vanessa went upstairs to Blythe. The sooner Lovel was dismissed the better. It wasn’t safe to have the man around!

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Vanessa and Blythe spent hours in the schoolroom huddled together, counting the days on a calendar until Julian’s return, and distracting themselves with books and music, while the hubbub carried on around them.

  At the end of the second week, the inspector and a group of his policemen arrived with a wagon. Knott informed her that Maurice Lovel was their chief suspect.

  “Lovel!” Vanessa had been reassuring herself that the murderer would come from the outside world, not the Hall.

  “I’m here to arrest him. My men are searching for him now.”

  “Are you sure it’s Lovel, Inspector?” She detested the man, but never thought him capable of murderer. “Have you questioned the estate manager? I thought he was hiding something.”

  “He has admitted to forming a friendship with a widow living in Clapham Junction. Spent the night there and came late to work. Too late to have seen anything of interest the morning you saw the trap in the wood.”

  “He might have told me.”

  The Inspector cleared his throat. “I believe he was embarrassed.” Knott turned to the parcel wrapped in brown paper one of his men brought into the drawing room. “We may have uncovered your missing painting. I believe this belongs to you.” He untied the string and tore the paper away. “Can anyone here confirm it?”

  Vanessa stared at it, still in its gilt frame. It was a rather ordinary little painting, a muted scene of horses in a misty field. “I can’t identify it, Inspector. I’ll call Mrs. Royce.”

  Mrs. Royce cast it a cursory glance. “That’s the missing painting, Inspector Knott. I’m sure of it.”

  “Most helpful, thank you, Mrs. Royce.”

  “I’ll just nip back to the servants’ hall and make sure none of my girls are
tempted to stray outside to talk to handsome policemen,” Mrs. Royce said, regaining some of her vigor.

  Vanessa studied the painting. Its frame was battered, and the canvas dusty, but it appeared to be otherwise undamaged. “Curious choice to steal, Inspector,” she said. “I doubt this work is of great value. There are many paintings here of a much higher value. Is there a connection between it and Miss Lillicrop’s death?”

  “We don’t have the answers yet,” Inspector Knott said.

  “What would drive Lovel to murder Miss Lillicrop?”

  “There is sure to be a reason, my lady. And I shall find it out.” Inspector Knott chewed the stem of his unlit pipe and fixed a pair of keen brown eyes upon her. “Can you tell me more about your stepdaughter’s former governess? Have you learnt what sort of person Miss Lillicrop was?”

  “Very little, I’m afraid. Blythe liked her. She was very fond of poetry, the Romantics in particular.”

  A spark lit up the inspector’s eyes. “Of a romantical bent, was she?”

  “I believe so.”

  “We have taken a man into custody. He was part of a gang of thieves. This gang has struck far and wide and seemingly at random. Beyond that, there is much yet to discover.” He shrugged. “He was arrested when he tried to sell the painting. The thieves most likely held on to it, fearing it was too hot to move, but then they panicked. He’ll oblige us with information … soon. As will Mr. Lovel.”

  A bobby appeared and bent to speak into the inspector’s ear.

  “It seems that Mr. Lovel has absconded.”

  Vanessa gripped her hands together. It didn’t surprise her that Lovel had slipped through their fingers. “I do hope you can discover his whereabouts quickly.”

  “We will get him, never fear.” He bowed over her hand. “I shall keep you informed.”

  “Thank you, Inspector.”

  Blythe appeared as soon as the inspector left. She ran over to the painting. “Oh they found it! I knew Miss Lillicrop couldn’t have taken it.”

  “It’s a pretty scene, isn’t it?” Vanessa said. “All misty greys, creams, and greens.”