Antonia, Gamaliel and, last but also charming, Quentin and Millament.’
‘You have them all off pat,’ said Fiona, laughing.
‘Yes, indeed. I have heard them at various times from Mrs Leek.’
‘There is one you left out,’ said Maria.
‘Ah, yes, your son Garnet.’
‘Do you not like the name? Neither do I. It was his father’s choice, not mine, but Garnet and Bluebell are twins, as are Quentin and Millament, and it was agreed that my husband, who had adopted the name of Vannion in place of his own, which was Enoch, should name the boy and I the girl. He chose Garnet Wolseley for my son; I decided upon Bluebell Wendy for my daughter. My husband was on the stage, by the way, this to my mother’s disapproval.’
‘I think I agree that Vannion Porthcawl has a better ring to it than Enoch Porthcawl. Miss Aysgarth, I believe, had a similar notion to adopt a name she deemed more suitable for her public appearances.’
‘Well, it is not surprising,’ said Maria bitterly. ‘Like father like daughter, I suppose, although I do not believe they ever met.’
‘You say you find it hard to believe that Margaret Denham is a criminal,’ said Dame Beatrice after what she felt was a suitable pause, ‘but, if not Margaret, what are the alternatives?’
‘Well, we’re loth to suspect the Lunns,’ said Maria, ‘although Mattie had a grievance. Mrs Plack, of course, is out of the question. She would never—how shall I put it?’
‘Prostitute one of her own condiments by poisoning it,’ said Fiona. ‘She would regard that as a most immoral and sacrilegious act.’
‘The other possibility which I think ought to be considered,’ said Maria, who did not think the situation called for humour, ‘is a genuine mistake on the part of the greengrocer or a wicked practical joke on the part of his assistant.’
‘Neither seems very likely,’ said Dame Beatrice. ‘Did you, by any chance, have callers, especially unexpected callers, on the Friday or Saturday?’
‘You think a complete outsider could have done that terrible thing?’ asked Maria. ‘I don’t see how that would be possible. It certainly would be most unlikely. I know of nobody who would have disliked or feared my mother to that extent. She had very little contact with the outside world. She went for her lonely walks and she went out for drives in the car, but that was all. As a matter of fact, she and I were out all the Friday afternoon, so, if anybody came to the house then, we would not have been aware of it and the maids said nothing about callers when we got home at teatime.’
‘I was out, too,’ said Fiona, ‘so the same thing applies to me.’
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
‘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?
