Late, Late in the Evening

On this particular Sunday afternoon we gave her a good quarter of an hour to get settled upstairs and for grandfather to begin his gentle snoring, then we crept down the back stairs to the scullery and left by the back door. We had no fear of encountering Uncle Arthur or Aunt Kirstie. They, too, would have retired upstairs until it was tea-time. It was most grown-ups' invariable custom on Sundays.

As we walked up the hill to the manor house we discussed how best to get hold of Lionel and decided to try the garden first. If he was not there, the next best thing, we thought, would be to knock at the back door and enquire for him, as it would probably be answered by one of the maids, whereas the front door would be opened by the overpowering, supercilious, majestic butler.

As it happened, we were lucky. Lionel was down by the pond chucking stones, of which he appeared to have collected a fair-sized heap from the gravel drive, into the water. He seemed pleased to see us, although he informed us that it might mean saying goodbye, as he was forbidden to go into the village.

'It's this murder,' he said. 'There are policemen up at the house this very minute. They've been here all day questioning people. I don't suppose you know about it yet, but there's been a murder on The Marsh.'

'Of course we know. Everybody knows. But why should police come here?' asked Kenneth. 'Has one of you done the murder?' (Of course he was thinking of Mr Ward.)

'I shouldn't imagine so, but we don't really know. You remember my sister had a birthday party yesterday? Well, one of the guests went out and got herself killed. That's why the police are here,' explained Lionel.

'The body was found down by the sheepwash,' said Kenneth.

'So you do know about it! I'll tell you something you don't know, though. Well, anyway, I bet you don't. You don't know what she was wearing when she was killed. Want to see?'

'Don't be silly,' I said. 'You're just being cocky. The police wouldn't let you have whatever she was wearing. They would keep it for clues and things.'

'You don't know everything,' said Lionel. 'Come on. I'll show you. I ought to charge you something, but I don't suppose you have any money, have you?'

'Spent it all at the fair.'

'Oh, what was the fair like? Was it any good?'

'Fabulous. Uncle Arthur won a cigar and a coconut and we saw some wrestling and there was a fight and we didn't get home till after midnight. What are you going to show us?'

'Come and see. We'll sneak in by the side door and use the back staircase. Don't speak a word or make any kind of a row until we're in my playroom with the door shut.'

We crept in past the pantry, mounted the servants' staircase and tip-toed along to the attics which were Lionel's domain. He took us into the playroom, shut the door and disappeared into his bedroom. In a few minutes one of the hideous and frightful creatures which had collected for charity in the village on Saturday came prancing into the room.

I clapped a hand over my mouth to stifle an involuntary cry as the creature pirouetted towards us and I recoiled from it, putting out my other hand to fend it off. Kenneth dodged over to the bedroom door and gently closed it. Then he said,

'How did you manage to get those things?'

Lionel danced about a bit more and then shrugged himself out of the lendings which he laid carefully on the only armchair in the room.

'I managed to get them because I sneaked them and wouldn't give them back,' he said.

'Off the body? I don't believe a word of it,' said Kenneth.

'Of course not off the body. These are duplicates. There were two of each costume and I picked the one I thought might fit. Doctor Tassall brought them from the hospital in a wagonette. Amabel got Grandmamma to hire it and buy the costumes for the party. When they came they were laid out in the dining-room, so I took one for myself and in the end I was allowed to keep it because I wasn't going to the party and had to go to bed early. So they all tried on their costumes for size, you know, and this girl who got murdered had the one like this. I wore mine, on and off, most of the evening until my bedtime. I went round with my money-box cadging sixpences from the guests when Grandmamma wasn't about. Then, when they were dressing for the charades, this girl came up here with her costume and asked me if I would mind swopping over with her, as she thought my costume might be a bit roomier than hers. She was a fairly fat person, you see, and actually rather plain. As a matter of fact, she hadn't been invited to the party, but she brought three others in her brother's car, so, of course, she had to be asked to stay. My sister was a bit annoyed about it, because the person who should have brought the other three girls was the brother, but he had to cry off at the last minute because he'd crocked his knee or something. My sister didn't want another girl, especially such a plain girl as that, so she made a scene to Grandmamma and Grandmamma was a good bit sick with her.'

'So did you swop costumes with this girl?'

'Oh, yes. It suited me all right. The only difference in the costumes was the size, so far as I could see, except one was more brown and the other was more green, and the masks were a bit different, that's all. Nothing, really. Anyway, she offered me half-a-crown to swop, so it was worth it.'

'But that means,' said Kenneth, 'that the wrong person got murdered.'

'What wrong person?'

'Well, you, I suppose the murder was meant for.'

'Oh, shucks. I was in bed at that time.'

'Well, have the police questioned you as well as the others?'

'Oh, yes, but I couldn't tell them anything except that we'd swopped the costumes.'

Kenneth and I held a deep discussion as we walked homewards down the hill.

'She was mistaken for Lionel,' said Kenneth. 'I'm certain of it. She wasn't even supposed to be at the party.'

'But who would want to murder Lionel? He's only a boy,' I argued.

'The princes in the Tower were only boys, but they were in somebody's way and perhaps Lionel is, too.'

'Whose way could he be in?'

'Mr Ward's, of course. Don't you remember Lionel telling us that the big house, and all that, would be his when he was twenty-one?'

'So what?'

'Well, if Mr Ward is a relation, perhaps it would all be his if Lionel was out of the way.'

I was immensely impressed by this.

'No wonder Lionel's parents won't let him come down to the village any more,' I said. 'It's sickening for him, but I don't blame them. They must think he's still in danger.'

'Well, I expect he is. Murderers don't stick at much, and if Mr Ward is a murderer and can get that house and everything by killing Lionel, I expect he will.'

'Lionel ought to be guarded night and day,' I said.

'Are you volunteering?' Kenneth enquired.

'We couldn't do much against a murderer.'

'We could yell the place down, I suppose, if we saw him collaring Lionel.'

'A fat lot of use that would be. The murderer would simply murder us, too, to shut our mouths. That's what murderers always do. It's in the Sunday papers,' I said.

We decided to leave Lionel to his fate. Aunt Lally found us deep in Moments of Meditation and Little Thoughts of Great Men when she came downstairs at five and sent us off to Aunt Kirstie to be given our Sunday tea.