“It’s much easier once you’ve got them on a slab, we find. Anyway, it looks like he took a blow to the back of the head. See?” The inspector pulled the blanket back and tried to tip the head to one side, but rigor mortis was starting to set in. It typically began at the neck and jaw, and the corpse’s head would not roll but the legs and feet had still been flexible. From that, Theodore could estimate the time of death to have been within the last four to six hours.
“So it was murder?” Theodore said.
Inspector Wilbred laughed. “Doubtful! He will have slipped – see how wet it is down there? I did my own observations, you know, and certainly noticed how treacherous those steps are. He’s slipped and cracked his head. Boom! Gone! What’s his name?”
“Hartley Knight. He’s the house steward here.”
“He was not he is. No more stewarding for this fellow. He probably deserved a holiday. Shame he’s not coming back from it, hey!”
“But there was no reason for him to be here in the ice house at all,” Theodore insisted, repelled by the inspector’s levity. “He died about four hours ago...”
“Now look sir, we can’t know that for sure. We’ll ask the medical officer at the station to have a look but right now I really can’t contribute to speculation.”
“It is blatantly obvious for anyone with half a brain!” Theodore exploded, all his frustration boiling over. “Listen, you clot. This man had no reason to be here at all. There’s no ice in this ice house. We were all at church...” He was interrupted by Mrs Rush giving a strangled sob but he ignored it. “We were all at church and he had no business being here at all. He might have had a blow to the head but it wasn’t enough to kill him, I am sure of it.” He wasn’t really sure of it. A medical examiner did need to confirm that. “There’s foul play here, sir!”
“There’s foul air, certainly,” Inspector Wilbred said, and his men laughed with a degree of malice aimed at Theodore. “And foul manners too,” he added. “I thank you for your contribution and now I invite you to step aside so that we may continue with our jobs.”
“But you’re not doing your job!”
“We would if you were not obstructing us. You have three seconds to leave us alone, sir, or I shall be forced to seriously embarrass you!”
He meant he would have to arrest him. Him, the Earl of Calaway! Theodore sucked in a great mouthful of swamp air and before he could unleash it in a torrent at Inspector Wilbred, Adelia had pulled at his arm, breaking his concentration.
He deflated. The look on Inspector Wilbred’s face made it very, very plain that Theodore would be arrested if he did not relent.
Feeling sick, he followed Adelia, Lady Agnes, Oscar, Mrs Rush and all the others back up to the castle.
“WHERE IS FELICIA?” he asked Adelia as they trudged into the great hall, the Tudor heart of the daily life of the castle.
“When she heard what had happened, she had an attack of hysterics. I could have predicted that. She’s in her room. She was wailing about the curse, which is only to be expected.”
Theodore nodded sadly. Her own curse, as far as he could see it, was her extreme sensitivity. “I shall pop in to see her later. I might be able to assist.”
“If she is sleeping, don’t disturb her.”
“Of course not. Do you think me as great a fool as the inspector seems to?”
“No, not at all. He is the fool. Listen, Theodore, you have done as much as you are able to. He is a buffoon and an idiot but you must hand it all over to him. Are you certain that it was foul play?”
“Without knowing the extent of the blow that landed on his head, not, I am not totally certain but why was Knight down there in the first place? His situation piques my suspicion as much as the manner of death.”
“I agree. I do not think he merely slipped and knocked his head.”
Mrs Rush was listening and her tears were pouring down her face. Adelia looked over at her and said, “Mrs Rush, don’t take on so. In truth, I thought that you and he were not entirely close...”
Mrs Rush’s purple face screwed up in a ball of wrinkles and mucus. “We were, once, and that is why they will blame me!”
“They cannot possibly suggest that. Why would anyone say so?”
“We were once ... recently ... close, too close, if you will, oh forgive me, and then we were not close any more and I hated him for it and we argued and ... everyone knows it!”
Lady Agnes was at her side and she tried to calm the housekeeper, murmuring, “But where were you this morning? You went to chapel as usual, didn’t you?”
“Yes, but it’s not your church, is it? You did not see me at your church. Chapel. Chapel! It will count for nothing, nothing!”
Lady Agnes shook her head and rolled her eyes. Her calm voice took on a stronger tone. “Come now, we cannot have everyone falling apart at this. You must go back to your room, wash your face, and come out ready to get on with the day. Come!” She grasped Mrs Rush by the elbow and marched her out of the hall.
“It is true that I saw them arguing,” Adelia said to Theodore. “Mrs Rush and the victim.”
“Then she is a suspect – if it is murder,” Theodore replied. “Not that the idiotic inspector will do anything about it. I might as well just put on my slippers, fill a pipe, and sit by the fire while they fail to catch the killer.”
“It is too hot for a fire and you cannot sit and do nothing. You would explode after three hours.”
“True.
