'I have begun to think of acquiring my own self-propelled transport,' Kate said, settling back with her tea. 'It is a great nuisance to wait for Pocket to harness the horses when I would much rather go on the instant. Moreover, it is impossible to travel with any degree of privacy when I must always be driven. And it is such a dreadful waste to require a driver to sit idly and wait for me to conclude my errands.' She paused thoughtfully. 'Of course, the purchase will require an investment.'
Charles looked at her inquisitively. Really, there was no predicting the woman. What did she have in mind now?
Eleanor's face paled. 'Kate, you wouldn't!'''
Bradford leaned forward. 'Self-propelled transport, that's the ticket!' he exclaimed. His ruddy face was suffused with excitement. 'My dear Miss Ardleigh, I am delighted. I too am planning to purchase a motorcar.'
'Oh, dear,' Eleanor said faintly. 'What will Papa say? Bradford, he will forbid you to drive it onto the manor! Wherever will you keep it?'
Charles chuckled, thinking of the tantrum Lord Marsden would throw if he saw Bradford driving a motorcar. 'You might try hiding it in a haystack,' he suggested.
Bradford scowled at Charles and sat forward on the edge of his chair. ' 'Pay no attention to them, Miss Ardleigh. May I advise you on your purchase? I have made a careful study of the available models, and I am quite prepared to-'
'Thank you,' Kate said, 'but I have already made other arrangements. I have consulted with Constable Laken.'
'Edward Laken?' Bradford asked, taken aback. 'What on earth does the man know of motorcars?'
'I have no idea,' Kate replied, offering him another tea cake. 'But he certainly knows about bicycles. He is teaching me to ride, and has offered advice as to which one I should buy.'
Charles chuckled again, louder. No predicting, and no taming. This was one Kate who would never be conformable.
Bradford frowned. Eleanor gasped. 'A bicycle! Dear, dear Kate! Consider your position in society!'
'Not a motorcar?' Bradford asked, clearly disappointed.
'No,' Kate said gently. 'At least, not just now. When the invention has been perfected, I may be interested.'
'If you insist on going about unaccompanied,' Eleanor said primly, 'you might ride. I am sure that Papa would be delighted to make a horse available to you.'
'Thank you,' Kate said. 'But I believe a bicycle to be better suited to my temperament. Moreover, a horse requires feed and care, while a bicycle needs only a little oil and doesn't sulk when it is not attended to. It shall render me marvelously mobile. I shall ride to Marsden Manor, Eleanor, to have tea with you, and to Dedham to visit the vicar.'
Charles looked at her. 'I rather believe you are serious,' he said, feeling ridiculously pleased.
'I am most serious,' Kate assured him. 'I plan to invest not only in the machine, but in a new sort of costume, for I have already found how difficult it is to ride in a heavy skirt. I discovered a picture of a French cycling dress yesterday, a variation on a very sensible fashion introduced in America some years back by Mrs. Amelia Bloomer.'
'Bloomers!' Eleanor made a face of mock despair. 'Kate, dear Kate, whatever shall I do with you? I came to invite you once again to travel to London with me, now that you have more time, and give advice on my trousseau. But perhaps I should think better of it.' She shuddered. 'Bicycles and bloomers, indeed!'
'What my sister and I actually came to do, Miss Ar-dleigh,' Bradford remarked, 'is to compliment you upon your identification of your aunts' killer. To be frank, the whole family was amazed. Papa and I were astonished that a woman should have the perspicacity to discover such a clever murderer, while Eleanor, Patsy, and Mama were amazed that a woman should have the courage to confront her.'
'And all of us,' Eleanor put in, 'were absolutely scandalized that a woman could bring herself to commit three murders and attempt a fourth!' She shook her head in wonder and disbelief. 'The story has been told to me several times,
but I confess that I still find it hard to credit Mrs. Farns-worth-whose newspaper picture shows her to be a slight, delicate woman-with such a voracious thirst for blood! I must congratulate you for apprehending her, Kate.'
Bradford frowned. 'Allow me to make a slight correction, Ellie. It was not Miss Ardleigh who apprehended Mrs. Farns-worth-that would have been beyond a woman's capacity, I fear.' Charles glanced at Kate, who had opened her mouth as if to object. But Bradford was continuing. ' 'It was actually her servant Mudd who captured the woman. And as I understand it, Charles and two policemen arrived at the scene and effected her arrest.' He glanced at Charles. 'Is that not the case, Charles?'
Charles was glad for the opportunity to talk about his part in the affair. At the moment of his arrival, Kate- Miss Ardleigh-had been too excited to understand clearly how he had come to be at the scene. 'I had been on the trail of Monsieur Monet's killer for some days,' he said, 'assisting Inspector Wainwright with the tedious business of tracing clues.' He smiled slightly. 'To be truthful, I did not suspect Mrs. Farnsworth, but I must at least take credit for bringing the police to the doorstep and rescuing our fair detective from the clutches of-'
'Rescuing me!' Kate exclaimed heatedly. Her hazel-green eyes flashed. '/ was in no need of rescue, sir! The situation was perfectly in hand.'
Charles frowned. 'If you mean that your butler managed to subdue the violent woman after she dangerously fired at you-'
Kate pulled herself up. 'She did not fire at me,' she said in a tone of annoyance. 'The gun accidentally discharged when Mudd attempted to pin her arms. I was never in a moment's danger. Your appearance, Sir Charles, saved me only from the trouble of summoning the police.'
'Bravo!' Bradford said, applauding. 'What spirit! My dear Miss Ardleigh, you have quite got the better of our intrepid Sir Charles.'
Charles glared at Bradford.
'You did not know, Sir Charles,' Eleanor asked, 'that the woman had also killed Kate's aunts?'
'I confess I did not,' Charles replied reluctantly. 'I failed to recognize Mrs. Farnsworth's features in the face of the gypsy boy.' With an excess of politeness, he added, 'For that recognition, we must all be grateful to Miss Ardleigh.'
'Thank you,' Kate said, with a somewhat more charitable smile. 'Perhaps I would have been quicker to recognize her had I seen her play Rosalind-as you did, I understand.'
Charles felt himself coloring. Blast the woman! Why couldn't she be a little more like other women? He wasn't asking her to be as accommodating as Eleanor or Patsy-just a little less like a hedgehog. In his own defense, he added, rather more loudly than he intended, 'My identification of Mrs. Farnsworth as Monsieur Monet's killer has been confirmed. The fingerprint I obtained from the whip handle of the hired chaise matches the print of the index finger of Mrs. Farnsworth's right hand. In addition, an ivory lozenge I discovered at the murder scene was broken from the handle of the dagger she used to kill Monsieur Monet-a dagger that was subsequently found, with a broken point, in her possession. And the print that I thought at first to be that of a walking stick I now believe to be that of the heel of her shoe. Its diameter is exactly the same.'
Bradford put down his cup. 'And are the newspapers correct in saying that the Frenchman was a spy?'
'Nothing of the sort,' Charles replied. 'The man was an expert cryptographer. He had been engaged by MacGregor Mathers to examine the cipher document on which the Order of the Golden Dawn was based and openly declare it fraudulent. Mrs. Farnsworth killed him to keep him from revealing the truth. She also planned to kill Mathers-'
'That scheme was aborted, I trust,' Kate broke in. 'I told Inspector Wainwright about Mrs. Farnsworth's claim to have sent a box of poisoned sweets to Mathers. I hope he conveyed the information to the Paris police.'
'I believe that the candy has been intercepted,' Charles said. He looked at Kate. While they were at it, he might as well clear up the one unanswered question that remained.
'The day you visited Marsden Manor, Miss Ardleigh, you suggested that I interview Mrs. Farnsworth in connection with the dead man at the dig. On what basis did you perceive a relationship between them?'
'It was not Mrs. Farnsworth herself that I believed connected to your corpse,' Kate said. 'I merely suspected that the murder involved a member of her organization. It was chiefly the scarab which caught my eye. Both my
