Rafe said, “There’s nothing we can do here. Come on upstairs.”
I didn’t want to stand down there near Pamela’s remains, so I happily agreed.
“You knew her in Boston, I understand.”
“I did.”
“Any idea what she was doing here in Oxford?”
“She said she was studying art history. Pamela was very bright but never struck me as the scholar type.”
“You don’t think a degree from a prestigious university was her goal in coming here?” Was there a sardonic tone? I suspected there was.
“I think she was after her MRS degree. And I think she wanted somebody pretty special.”
“Well, any one of these young men tonight would be quite the catch.”
I would have laughed if it wasn’t such a serious situation. “We sound like a pair of matchmakers plotting in the corridor.”
“You’d be surprised. We think matches aren’t made anymore. That people have free will in who they marry. It’s less true than you think.”
We went upstairs, and all the members of the Gargoyle Club were sitting in the dining room in the same seats they’d had before the older men left. Alex went to pour more wine, and his father stopped him. “I think we’d all better sober up. There’ll be no more drinking tonight. You all have to give an account of yourselves to the police.” He turned to me. “You there. Go into the kitchen and put some coffee on.”
I didn’t appreciate being called “you there,” but coffee was an excellent idea. Dolph still looked half asleep, and the rest of them looked drunk. I nodded and headed back to the kitchen. William was way ahead of me. He already had coffee brewing. “Lucy, I’m so sorry. How are you holding up?” He was such a kind man, and his face was full of concern.
I hadn’t really stopped to think about it, but I felt awful. Maybe not having liked Pamela made it even worse to find her murdered. If we’d been friends, I could simply grieve, but I had to accept the fact that a tiny part of me felt relief that she wouldn’t be in my life anymore. And what kind of a terrible person did that make me?
“Come and sit down.”
“I have to take in the coffee.” I was starting to shake all over.
“I’ll do it.”
I didn’t argue. And Violet didn’t even wait to be asked. She got up and followed William with the tray of cups and saucers and the cream and sugar.
After they left, I just sat in one of the kitchen chairs and stared out the window into the dark garden. My mind was whirling.
Then a strange woman walked into the kitchen, and I screamed. Just a short, stupid little scream that was more being startled than terrified. Though I was quite terrified.
“Oh, I’m so sorry I frightened you,” the pleasant-looking, middle-aged woman said. “I wondered what all the fuss was about. There’s an ambulance out front. Is someone hurt?” I glanced up, and I recognized her. But I couldn’t think where from. The way she was looking at me, I thought she was going through the same exercise of trying to place me, and then suddenly she said, “Oh, it’s Lucy. From the knitting shop. Cardinal Woolsey’s.”
And when she put herself into the context of the knitting shop, of course I recognized her as well. “Shannon, how are you?”
Shannon Briggs was a reasonably regular customer in my knitting shop. She’d been knitting a blanket for her aged mother in Scotland last time I saw her. “What are you doing here?”
“I live here.”
I was so confused. My head felt like it was filled with cement. “You live here?”
“Well, I live in the flat above the garage. I’m the housekeeper here. My husband is the butler.”
“Jack Briggs. Of course.”
She said, “I had the night off because the gentlemen were entertaining. But I saw the ambulance. I don’t wish to be nosy, but if there’s anything I can do to help…”
“There’s been a murder,” I told her. She’d find out soon enough anyway.
She went pale, and her hand went to her chest. “Someone in the family?”
“No,” I hastened to reassure her. “Probably no one you even know. She was here like me, helping serve the food. Her name was Pamela.”
“I was so worried something might have happened to Mr. Percival Brown. He works so hard, you know, and he’s always traveling and talking to the press. Then he and his wife are at charity functions and I don’t know what. I wondered if the stress had caught up with him. I’m so glad he’s all right.”
“Yes. He’s fine. He took charge right away,” I told her. “He’s very good in a crisis.”
Shannon came all the way in and looked as though she planned to stay for a while. “Pamela. Was she a young woman with long, dark hair?”
I felt my eyes widen. Could this woman have known Pamela? “Yes.”
“Heavens.”
“Did you know her?”
She went over into the kitchen proper and plugged in the kettle. “No. I’m not even certain it’s the same person, but I’m sure the young woman’s name was Pamela.”
“What young woman? When was she here? What happened?” I’d been certain that Pamela had some sort of an ulterior motive in coming with me. Well, she clearly wasn’t the waitressing type. Had she been here before?
Shannon Briggs joined me and said, “She made a fool of me, that’s what happened. I was doing the vacuuming one afternoon; it was a couple of months ago. Mrs. Percival Brown was out of town, thank goodness. Hugo was upstairs working in his office, and Alexander was at school,
