Dame Beatrice concluded that Fiona had gone out to meet Rupert so she did not trouble to ask any questions. She rose to take her leave, having learnt one tiny fact which had turned her suspicions into near certainty.
Mattie and her brother were still at their task, but there was no sign of Laura.
‘No need for you to hang about,’ said Mattie. ‘Her went off on Emperor like a queen. I’ll have her ride him to the Smugglers’ and I’ll ride with her and bring both horses back. Arranged it all with her, I have, so nothing for you to worry about.’
‘I am infinitely obliged to you,’ said Dame Beatrice. She was about to get into her car when she heard hoof-beats, strong and rhythmic, and Laura came trotting up, dismounted, exchanged a few words with Mattie and then came over to the car.
‘Great ride!’ she said. ‘How did you get on? Did you manage to knock anybody else off your list of suspects?’
‘So far, no. Mrs Porthcawl and Miss Bute claim to have been out on what may have been the important Friday afternoon. I did not enquire where they went, either on the Friday or the Saturday. They volunteered the information about Friday and I have no doubt that the police will have checked their story of how they spent both afternoons.’
‘The trouble about them—Mrs Porthcawl anyway—is that the change-over of the jars of horseradish could have been done at night when everybody else was asleep. Seems to me she had the best opportunity of anybody to make the switch.’
‘That isn’t really important.’
‘What did you talk about?’
‘Their family names. I mean their first names. I forgot to include, in my recital of these, the bachelor brother Garnet.’
‘Forgot, or didn’t intend to mention it?’
‘You are much too intelligent.’
‘So what was your object?’
‘To find out whether one of them would supply the missing item.’
‘And did it work?’
‘Yes. It showed me that whatever suspicions they entertain, these do not include Mr Garnet Porthcawl.’
‘But they couldn’t. He was either in London or Exeter at the time.’
‘There are such things as private hire cars, and Garnet, I daresay, earns enough to pay for one.’
Chapter 16
What’s in a Name?
« ^ »
When Dame Beatrice gave voice to what appeared to be a controversial remark, Laura knew that somewhere behind it there was something to be puzzled over and sorted out. It was of no use to ask for an explanation, so she put her mind to work but could not believe that Dame Beatrice thought Garnet guilty.
She was so silent at breakfast on the following morning that Dame Beatrice asked her how she had slept. Laura replied that she supposed she had enjoyed her usual four hours, which, indeed, was her average period of sleep and all that she appeared to need, and then said plaintively: ‘Won’t you at least give me a clue?’
‘To what, dear child?’
‘To the identity of our murderer, of course.’
‘But I am not able to prove anything. I know who the murderer must be, but that, as you know, is not enough. Of course I can tell you what is in my mind, but I don’t know whether it will convey anything to yours. I learnt, when I visited Mrs Porthcawl and Miss Bute yesterday, that Mrs Leyden’s first name was Romula.’
‘How does that help?’
‘I think it may account for the method which was used to murder her. It appears that her father would have preferred a son and would have named him Romulus. Earlier I had learned from Mrs Bosse-Leyden that Mrs Leyden was less generous in helping her blood-relations than in giving financial aid and sometimes her affection to what one may call the co-opted members of her family.’
‘So that looks as though one of the real family was the murderer.’
‘Except that sometimes people are less grateful for benefits received than the donors think they should be.’
‘In other words, it is more satisfying to give than to receive, leaving blessedness out of it for the moment.
‘But wouldn’t a divorce have cut him straight out of the whatever?’
‘I have thought all along that the method used to kill Mrs Leyden was unnecessarily elaborate. Why, I asked myself, go to all the trouble and take all the risk of preparing a poisoned condiment, digging up, for the purpose, roots from somebody else’s garden, invading Mrs Plack’s kitchen in order to substitute a jar of poison for a similar but innocuous jar—all this when a simple, determined push in the back when she was on one of her cliff walks would have settled the outcome in a matter of seconds?’
‘But somebody did try that, I thought, and it didn’t work.’
‘It didn’t work because it was not, in my opinion, a murderous attempt, but I shall know more about that when I have questioned the person concerned.’
‘And the person concerned was not the person who provided the jar of poison?’
‘I think not, for the simple reason that a similar slight but not really dangerous push seems to have been given to Mrs Bosse-Leyden when she was out with her dogs.’
‘The same person could have it in for both of them.’
‘True. You refer, no doubt, to—’
‘Rupert Bosse-Leyden. According to the gossip we’ve heard, and what with one thing and another, he would have been glad to get rid of Diana and marry Fiona Bute, and he can’t have loved the old lady very much if she threw his illegitimate birth in his face.’
‘He had only to divorce Diana. There was no need to kill her.’
‘But wouldn’t a divorce have cut him straight out of the old lady’s Will?’
‘He had no expectations there, and (mark this, for it is very important) neither had his wife.’
‘But his children were included.’
‘It seems that nobody in the family had ever thought they would be. That may have been the one big surprise contained in the Will.’
‘What about the inclusion of young Gamaliel?’
‘That seems to have surprised nobody. It appears that the old lady had taken a great fancy to the lad. Besides, he is on my list of those who had been co-opted into the family. Included are Fiona Bute, Antonia Aysgarth, Parsifal Leek and Diana Bosse-Leyden. Each of them, in one way or another, seems to have received generous treatment, apart from what was left to any of them in the Will.’
‘Yes, they didn’t come off too well in that, did they? Do you mean that one of them murdered her out of pique?’
‘Not altogether, and certainly not because he or she was not mentioned in the Will. We have it from reliable sources that nobody really knew what the terms of the Will would be, although there seems to have been a considerable amount of guesswork. All the same, pique (or, as I would put it, bitter resentment) did come into the matter.’
‘How are you going to get the proof you need?’
‘Ultimately by the murderer’s own confession, but to extort that confession there are one or two facts we need to know, and here your acquaintanceship with Mattie Lunn may be of help. I would like you to get her to confirm that her brother took Mrs Leyden and Mrs Porthcawl out in the car on the Friday, ask her what he did on the Saturday and whether, on either afternoon, she saw any visitors come to the house, and particularly anybody who slipped in by the side door.’
‘Can do. Maybe she’ll hire me out another horse. That was a fine animal I rode yesterday and down here you don’t need to dress the part, so jeans and a sweater will fill the bill.’
‘One more thing: I want you to find out from Mattie Lunn the name of the person who supplies dairy produce, including the fresh cream for the horseradish sauce, to Headlands and whether he also supplies Campions and Seawards.’
‘Ah!’ said Laura, looking thoughtful. ‘Clotted cream not suitable for Mrs Plack’s recipe, eh? So the murderer had to get—’
‘Exactly.’
‘I had never thought about the murder from that angle. Of course there had to be fresh, unwhipped cream for the killer to use and, unless Mrs Plack or the kitchenmaid Sonia or Mrs Porthcawl or Miss Bute is the guilty party, the fresh cream which was used for the poisoned horseradish sauce was never delivered at Headlands.’