“I suppose you’re sure? You couldn’t be wrong?”
“Not about the wound, Miss Moynihan.”
“You were to begin with! You thought it was an accident then. Who suggested it wasn’t?”
“No one. When I examined it more closely, I saw that the wound could not have been caused by falling and striking the edge of the bath.”
“Are you a doctor?”
“You think murder is impossible?”
She turned away. “No, I just wish it were.”
She could not help. She had been in her bedroom at the time, alone except for her lady’s maid corning and going.
Tellman met him as he was returning to the house.
“Hennessey says he was in McGinley’s doorway talking to him about shirts,” he said tartly. “Saw O’Day in his room also. That puts them out. Wheeler seems to have been where he said. Footman and housemaid both saw him about downstairs, and he couldn’t have got back up again in time to do anything. They confirm the time he took the water up too.”
“What about the other servants?” Pitt walked beside him across the gravel and up the steps to the stone terrace.
Tellman looked resolutely ahead of him, refusing to admire the sweep of the stone balustrade or the broad facade of the house.
“Ladies’ maids were upstairs, of course. Seems there’s not one of the women can get out of their clothes by themselves.”
Pitt smiled. “If you were married, Tellman, you’d know better what is involved, and why it would be exceedingly difficult to do it oneself.”
“Shouldn’t wear clothes you can’t get in and out of,” Tellman responded.
“Is that all?” Pitt opened the door and went through it first, leaving it to swing.
Tellman caught it. “Your Gracie was up there on the landing. Says she saw Moynihan go to his room about ten past ten. Saw Wheeler go downstairs when he said he did. She was coming back with hot water at about half past ten and passed one of the maids carrying towels.”
“Which maid?”
“She didn’t know. Only saw her back. But all the maids are accounted for. None of ’em were absent from their duties. It wasn’t an outsider who killed Greville, and it wasn’t a servant.”
Pitt did not reply. It was what he had supposed—and feared. Now he could no longer put off speaking to Greville’s family. He gave Tellman instructions to continue learning all he could and check the accounts of the valets and maids against each other to see if anything further could be learned or deduced, then went upstairs to find Justine.
She was in the small sitting room which served the guest rooms of the north wing. Piers was close beside her and looked anxious. He started up as soon as Pitt entered, his face full of question.
“I am sorry to intrude,” Pitt began. “But there are certain things I need to ask you.”
“Of course.” Piers started as if to leave. “There is no need to distress Miss Baring with details. I’ll come with you.”
Pitt remained in front of the door, blocking it. “They are not medical details, Mr. Greville, they are just factual observations. And I need to ask Miss Baring as well.”
“Why?” Piers looked at him more closely, sensing something further wrong. “Surely …” He stopped again.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Greville, but your father did not die by accident,” Pitt said quietly. “I am with the police.”
“The police!” Involuntarily Justine started, then put her hand to her mouth. “I’m sorry. I thought—” She stopped, turning to Piers. “I’m so sorry!”
Piers moved closer to her. “I was here to try to protect him,” Pitt went on. “I am afraid I failed. Now I need to know what happened and who was responsible.”
Piers was stunned. “You mean … you mean he was … deliberately killed? But how? He fell against the bath! I saw the wound.”
“You saw what was intended to look like an accident,” Pitt pointed out. He glanced at Justine. She looked very white and still, but she was watching Piers, not Pitt. After that momentary outburst, she showed not the slightest sign of hysterics or faintness.
“You expected … murder?” Piers had difficulty even saying the word. “Then why did he come? Why didn’t you …”
Justine stood up and put her hand on his arm. “One can only do so much, Piers. Mr. Pitt could hardly go into the bathroom with him.” She looked at Pitt. “Did someone break in?”
“No. I’m sorry, it was someone resident in the house. My sergeant has established that. All the windows and doors were locked and there are men regularly watching the outside of the house, night as well as day. The gamekeeper has dogs out.”
“Someone here?” Piers was startled. “You mean one of the guests? You expected this? They are all Irish, I realize that now, but really …” Again he stopped. “Was this a political weekend? Is that what you are saying? And I intruded, without knowing?”
“I would not have phrased it so abruptly, but yes. Where were you at that time, Mr. Greville?”
