Marsh smiled. “But then you’ve already done your grieving, haven’t you? In the Earl’s bedroom. Last night.”
She stared at him. She turned and stared at me.
“You were seen, Miss O’Brien,” said Marsh.
“But who-” She lifted her chin. “Well, what of it? No crime, is it?”
“No. Tell me. Had the Earl ever given you cause to believe that he was recovering from his paralysis?”
“But, Inspector sir, it was only his legs that didn’t work proper. The rest of him worked perfectly fine.”
“But he was still unable to use his legs.”
She grinned. “He didn’t need them, did he.”
Marsh sat back and nodded. “Thank you, Miss O'Brien. I may speak with you again later.”
She shrugged as if she didn’t really care, one way or the other.
After she left, somehow the kitchen seemed even larger.
I turned to Marsh, who was staring down at the floor. I said, “You weren’t sure she was the woman in the Earl’s room.”
He looked up. “Hmmm? No, not until she admitted it. I took a bit of a chance there.”
“You were right.”
He smiled. “It does happen.”
“She didn’t seem to know about the passageway. Or about the Earl being able to walk.”
“No. If in fact he was.” He slipped his hand into his pocket, pulled out his watch, frowned at it. He looked at me. “Enough of the serving class for now, I think. Back to the gentry.”
A servant told us that most of the guests were in the drawing room. Sir David was there, and Cecily and Dr. Auerbach and Lady Purleigh. Everyone was gathered in the far comer of the enormous room.
They all looked up at us when we approached, but only Lady Purleigh spoke. “Inspector Marsh. And Mr. Beaumont. Did you need something?”
“I apologize for disturbing you once again, Lady Purleigh,” said Marsh.
“Not at all. Please, do sit down. Mr. Beaumont, please.”
The two of us sat on the same small sofa. “As I told you earlier,” Marsh said, “it’s rather important that I ascertain where everyone was located when these unpleasant events took place yesterday. All of you were here in the drawing room, I understand, when the Earl died. It remains for me to determine where everyone was when the rifle shot was fired.”
“Yes,” she said. “I understand. Did you wish to speak to any one of us in private?”
“Thank you, but that shouldn’t be necessary. I have only a few questions.” He looked at Cecily. “Miss Fitzwilliam?”
Cecily looked at him, her face composed and empty. “Yes?”
“Could you tell me where you were yesterday, at approximately one o’clock in the afternoon?”
“I was visiting with Mrs. Coburn in the village. She is an old friend of the family’s.” Cecily had found her drawl and she sounded like someone who planned to be more careful with it from now on.
“At what time, Miss Fitzwilliam,” said Marsh, “did you arrive there, and at what time did you leave?”
“I arrived at about eleven, I believe. I left at about two. Shortly after two o’clock. Yes. When Ripley came to fetch me, Mrs. Coburn told me it had just gone two.”
“Who is Ripley?” asked Marsh.
“One of the servants. Mrs. Coburn sent her nephew to the chemist’s to ring my mother. To tell her I was ready to return.” Marsh turned to the mother. “And you dispatched Ripley, Lady Purleigh?”
“Yes,” she said. “The time was a little before two. It takes perhaps fifteen minutes to reach Mrs. Coburn’s by auto, perhaps a bit more.”
Marsh nodded, turned back to Cecily. “And you were with Mrs. Coburn the entire time?”
“Yes.”
“Was anyone else present?”
“No.”
Marsh nodded. “Thank you. Dr. Auerbach. Where were you at that time, Doctor?”
Dr. Auerbach nodded. Light sparkled off the lenses of his pince-nez. “Aha, yah. As I explained to Mr. Beaumont, I was in the cemetery of the small church. I enjoy making the rubbings of the tombstones, you see. I have a collection of these.”
“And what time did you leave, Doctor?”
“One o’clock?” He ran his hand back over his shining skull. “Yah. One. I returned to Maplewhite on the foot, and this walk required of me an hour and a half, almost exactly. Six miles, it would be. I walk one mile in exactly fifteen minutes. Mrs. Corneille has explained to me that it was two-thirty when I went to examine Miss Turner.”
“And why did you examine Miss Turner?”
“Aha, yah. She had fallen off her horse. She was bruised, but otherwise unharmed. A strong, healthy young girl, in the physical sense.”
Marsh nodded. “And while you were in the cemetery, Doctor, did you see anyone? Did anyone see you?”
“Yah, Mr. Beaumont, the same thing he asked me. I spoke with the vicar. A very charming man.”
“Thank you, Doctor. And you, Sir David?”
“Yes?” said Sir David. He hadn’t looked at me since Marsh and I arrived. There was a small mouse beneath his right eye and a gray bruise on his left jaw.
“Where were you, Sir David, between twelve o’clock and one o’clock yesterday?”
“In the village.”
“Where in the village?”
“The Cock and Bull.”
“That’s a pub, is it?”
“It is the pub.” He smiled. Blandly. “Not by virtue of its cachet, I hasten to add, but by virtue of its uniqueness. It is the only pub in the village.”
“And you were in one of the bars?”
“You overestimate its splendors. It has but one. And, no, I was not in it. I had taken a room.”
“A room, Sir David?”
“Yes. I was feeling ill. A recurrent ailment-something I picked up in the Bosphorus, years ago. I took a room so that I might rest for a bit.”
“Why didn’t you simply return to Maplewhite?”
Sir David shrugged. “I should’ve needed to locate the means to do so, and then suffer through an unpleasant automobile journey back here. I was there, in the pub. A room was available. It was bearable, just. I took it.”
“And at what time did you leave the pub, Sir David?”
“Three-ish, I’d say.”
“And how did you return here?”
“The landlord laid on transport. A car and driver.”
“And what was the landlord’s name?”
“I can’t imagine.” He smiled. “But he oughtn’t be difficult to find.”
“Do you know the name of the driver, Sir David.
“Of course not.”
Marsh nodded. He stood up. So did I. “Thank you all," he said.
Chapter Thirty-five
Outside the drawing room, Marsh turned to me. “Charming fellow, Sir David. Tell me. I saw only the finale to your boxing match with him, the last few minutes. For how long did it last?”
“You saw most of it.”
“Ah,” he said. “Lovely.” He smiled. “Well, then. Do you feel up to visit to the metropolis?”
“Purleigh?” I said. “Why not.”
“Phil?” It was the Great Man, scurrying toward us down the hallway.
“Yeah, Harry?”
He reached us. His hair was wilder than usual, bristling from his temples like the stuffing from an old couch. He adjusted his tie and nodded curtly to Inspector Marsh. “Phil,” he said, “I need your assistance for a few moments.”
I looked at Marsh.
“You run along,” he said, “I’ll use the auto and dash into the village on my own.” He turned to the Great Man. “Making progress, are we, Mr. Houdini?”
“Certainly. And you, Inspector?”
“One small step at a time.” He smiled. “I’ll see you at tea, shall I?”
“Naturally.”
Marsh nodded, turned, and walked away.
When he was out of earshot, I looked at the Great Man. “What’s up, Harry?”