“I was here. I saw nothing.”
“And your son, Oscar...?”
Lady Katharine replaced the cup carefully on her saucer, setting it down almost silently on the tray. “He was also here.”
“All morning?”
“Of course.”
There was another pause that grew uncomfortable. Adelia gave up, asked if Lady Katharine was in need of anything – “Peace and quiet” was the reply – and Adelia left in a hurry, feeling as if she was stepping out of a gloomy cave as she came back into the sunlight again.
Her respite was short-lived.
When she reached Tavy Castle again, she was given a very long letter that had just arrived from Mrs Carstairs. It was a list of questions, queries, hints, orders and instructions all pertaining to the Floating Ball. She was insisting on an immediate reply – and right at the bottom was a final scribbled command. “I am At Home again tomorrow and if you come around three, I shall endeavour to have Captain Everard present – that is – if you are totally sure about Lady A?”
Adelia took the missive up to her room to write her reply.
She looked again at Mrs Carstairs’ final sentence. Was she totally sure about Lady Agnes?
She was not totally sure about anything.
Nine
Theodore could barely wait to get back from Plymouth to Tavy Castle. He had spent the morning enclosed in the morgue at the police station, and had soon allied the force’s doctor to his cause. He made sure to stay out of the way of Inspector Wilbred, and swore the doctor to secrecy as to his endeavours. The doctor was more than happy to oblige. He could see perfectly well that there was more to the dead man than a mere blow to the back of the head, and he was relieved that his doubts were being taken seriously.
“If this had been some fine gentleman, the case would not be closed so quickly and so dismissively,” the doctor had grumbled, and Theodore agreed, although the closure was at least to his own advantage. He was now free to investigate as long as he kept things unobtrusive.
And his investigations that day had proved to be illuminating. The corpse had been lying for too long in the cold mortuary to yield up much new information, but a few choice and almost chance discoveries had presented themselves and had brought Theodore to a fever-pitch of excitement. He carried his bundle of objects back to the castle and ran up to the rooms in the Norman tower where Percy had the room which served as his study and library in one. The room above the library-study was more haphazard and cluttered with a random selection of things that did not really fit anywhere else, including a long and battered table, various glass jars, and in a corner cupboard there was a veritable apothecary’s shop of retorts, flasks, tubing and tongs.
Theodore decided to make this room into his laboratory.
He dumped the bundle on the table and began to empty the cupboard so that he could see everything that was available more clearly, spreading out the apparatus on the floor. He was just sniffing an unmarked bottle of some yellowish liquid when Felicia came in, and she looked confused.
“Papa, what are you doing?”
“I have made some discoveries about the death of Hartley Knight, and I intend to get to the bottom of it! He did not die from a blow to the head. He was poisoned!” Too late, he remembered that he had promised Adelia they would keep this information from Felicia, on account of her reactions. He bit his lip. “Sorry, my dear...”
“Poison? Who did it? And how? Arsenic? There is always arsenic around because of the rats – oh no!”
It was a common assumption. Arsenic, after all, had been the murder weapon of choice for many decades, especially by wives who wanted rid of their husbands. But he shook his head. “I do not believe it was arsenic. It is far more interesting than that.”
“Papa, no. Leave it all to the police, please, I beg of you.”
“The police have closed the case but I am allowed to continue. You must not worry about it. I have everything in hand. Ah! These rags will be useful. Marvellous. Oh! Test-tubes by the dozen, how interesting.”
“Test-tubes are never interesting and papa, you ought not to be doing this. Percy will be home soon...”
“Has there been word from him?”
“No, but he is sure to arrive soon, I feel it, and he could very well object to ... to ... all of this.”
“This is not his study; I would not dare to do this there. But this room is barely used.” Theodore darted about as he spoke, laying out things that he thought were going to be useful. He had found a small stove that, when lit, would be essential to some of his planned experiments. “Excellent! Look at this!”
“But what can you possibly do here that will be of any use?”
He spoke in a rush as he continued to turn out the cupboard. “Knight had been hit on the head and fallen, but it had not killed him. In fact, he had been overcome by some noxious gas which was near to his face where he lay, and I believe it was something that was deliberately placed there. He must have struggled against it because he was lying on his front, trying to crawl away as he died. I have a suspicion as to what that gas was and I shall conduct some experiments to find out.” Theodore paused for a moment and looked up at his daughter. She was tense and distressed. “Would you like to assist?” he asked, hoping that being involved would help her anxiety. He remembered how upset Mary had been at her exclusion from day to day life. Perhaps Felicia felt
