A Beautiful Blue Death

He looked at his watch. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s quite all right. I was only reading. Are you hungry?”

“Terribly.”

She called for Kirk and asked him to bring food and tea to the drawing room.

“Barnard was here,” she said, “only I didn’t see him.”

“Did he leave a message?”

“Only his compliments. And the orchid, of course.”

Lenox bent over to smell the flower. Then he stood up and smiled. “Oh, Jane, I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m in a black mood, and I didn’t know where to go.”

“I’m glad you came here, then,” she said, and led him to the rose-colored couch. The instant she said it Lenox felt better. “Where did you have lunch?”

“I didn’t eat.”

“Charles!”

“I went into a chophouse, but I only had a pint.”

“Of beer?”

“I was in a black mood, as I said.”

“What happened?”

He waved a hand, stood up, and began walking around the room restlessly. “Nothing, nothing,” he said. “It’s hard to say.”

She was silent.

“Why do you think Barnard visited you?”

“No doubt to remind me of the ball tomorrow evening. He usually goes around.”

“Shall we go together?”

“Yes, of course—although Toto wants to come as well.”

“With Thomas?”

“No, Thomas doesn’t want to, and she doesn’t care. Nobody will mind her going alone. But you might write to him.”

“I might.” He picked up a silver vase full of lilies and smelled them. “Jane,” he said, “would you believe that Jack Soames could murder anyone?”

“Is that why you’re upset?”

“There’s nothing certain about it, but it may have been him.”

“How awful.”

“Yes.”

“Charles, what happened? Won’t you tell me?”

“I can’t until I’m sure. And at any rate part of it is a secret.”

“Your brother’s secret?”

“Yes.”

Kirk came in with the tea and some sandwiches. Lenox felt the sudden hunger of someone who hasn’t eaten but doesn’t truly realize it until he sees food.

“Sugar?” said Lady Jane.

“Yes,” he said. “Just this once.”

“How many sandwiches?”

“Twelve, I should say.”

She laughed and handed him his tea and then put three of the small sandwiches on a plate, which she laid on the table next to him. It was strange, the new closeness the case had brought them. Lenox almost dared to think about—but no, it wouldn’t do.

“What about the others staying with Barnard?” she said.

“Perhaps, perhaps. There are points against each of them. I wish I knew more about Duff.”

“Then it isn’t conclusive, about Jack?”

“No, it isn’t conclusive.”

There was a pause. “I have to confess something,” Lady Jane said.

“What is it?”

“I don’t think Barnard brought the orchid around just because of the ball.”

“What do you mean?” said Lenox.

“I think he—well, what you and Toto say about his affection for me—”

“Oh, is that all?”

“Not quite. Do you remember me asking whether I should try to take advantage of knowing him to find something out? I know you said I shouldn’t, but I did. I had to try to help, particularly after those men hurt you.”

When she said this there was a pang in some inner chamber of Lenox’s heart.

“Jane, don’t you understand the danger of what you did? I said you oughtn’t to try for a reason. What if— what if you had been hurt? I can’t think about it.” Without realizing it, he had taken one of her hands. “Will you stop now?”

“Oh, yes, you have my word on that. I was absolute rubbish at it, you see. No use at all.”

“What happened?”

“We had lunch with him yesterday, Helena Adeline and I, and then I spent really the most awfully boring afternoon at the botanical gardens, where he’s a director.”

“The botanical gardens?”

“You can’t imagine it.” She laughed. “It was a trial, listening to Barnard talk about bark and different sorts of leaves and things. He made me take a couple of them, the beast. He took some, too. Mine are still around somewhere. A cluster of yellowish sorts of leaves. You’ll trip across it, I daresay. I felt like strangling him with one of his stupid orchids. The way he went on!”

“And there wasn’t anything you found of interest?”

“No, I’m afraid. I stumbled about looking for things in the most amateur way possible, until the housekeeper wanted to murder me and even Barnard began to get suspicious. I suppose he thought it was out of the ordinary for Lady Helena and me to wander off together for half an hour. Really, I was using her as an excuse to snoop. But I was an absolute failure, as I told you.”

They were both laughing by this time and Lenox felt he could breathe again. “That’s too bad,” he said. “Brave of you to try it.”

“Oh, but there was one thing!” she said.

“What?”

“What was the name of that poison?”

“Bella indigo?”

“He had some.”

“What!”

“In his greenhouse, in among the orchids, were a lot of little bottles and things. I took a quick look through them, and that name struck a bell. But it was five years old.”

“How do you know?”

“It was dated on the label. But at least it shows there might have been poison like it floating around the house or the greenhouse.”

“Fascinating,” Lenox murmured. “He could also have intentionally misdated it.”

Lady Jane didn’t seem to find it as interesting as Lenox. “I really wasn’t much count, Charles, but you’ll find out what happened.” And she smiled at him.

“Thanks.” He took a sip of tea and bit into the edge of a sandwich. “My favorite, tomato,” he said, and smiled back at her.

Half an hour later, and a good deal more cheerful, he left Lady Jane’s and walked the few feet back to his own house. It was nearly four.

He was pondering the greenhouse when Graham met him at the door.

“Sir Edmund is in the library, sir,” he said.