Though not unharmed.
Doctor Netherfield and Percy came up swiftly and working as a seamless team, they grabbed Brodie by the legs and arms, with the younger, stronger Percy taking the heavier head end. They hauled him away from the noxious fumes surrounding the smouldering ice house. The policeman on duty was a sensible one, and did not waste time in questioning what had happened. He bent and shoved his hand under Captain Everard’s arm, dragging him up to his feet. Theodore went to the captain’s other side and they all shuffled away, stumbling slowly, following Percy and Doctor Netherfield into the castle. As they approached, they heard the clang-thump-click of all the windows and doors being closed to prevent the gases from the ice house getting in. They scooted quickly through the double doors of the garden room and along the corridor.
Oscar Brodie was laid out on a rug on the floor of the great hall. The policeman let go of Captain Everard, who sagged against Theodore and groped his way to a wooden chair, gasping. The policeman strode over to Brodie, and said, “Is he alive?”
“Yes,” said Doctor Netherfield. “Though I do not know if he will survive, or if the damage is too great. Call your inspector immediately, and any other persons of authority, for you have a double-murderer here and you will want to see justice done before he expires.”
“A triple murderer!” announced a high voice, and everyone turned to see The Countess inching her way into the room on the arm of Adelia.
“Who else?” Theodore demanded, frozen in shock. The Countess looked dreadful, her face ashen-white and she was wincing with every step.
“Me!”
“You’re not dead,” Theodore said.
“I might as well be! He tried,” she insisted, nodding at the prone figure. “It is only my superior constitution and strength which has saved me.”
Adelia sniffed. “And the fact that I caught you as you fell down the stairs.”
“I did not fall. I was pushed! And you didn’t catch me. I hit you. And I want it on record that he attempted to kill me.”
“Very well, though the man can only be hanged once.”
“Oh, I am sure there are ways,” The Countess muttered darkly. “Why has no one offered me a seat? Has everyone’s manners blown up with the ice house?”
Theodore was rather surprised to see how roughly his wife pushed The Countess onto a nearby wooden seat, where the old lady began complaining about the lack of cushions. Eventually a housemaid peeled away from the others and began to attend to her.
A fresh commotion at the main doors took his attention for a moment but it was not the arrival of Inspector Wilbred – of course, the man would not have yet even heard of the events at Tavy Castle. Instead, it was Lady Katharine, entering on the arm of Lady Agnes who must have rushed to the gatehouse to speak to her.
Lady Katharine pushed Lady Agnes away, and ran to where her son lay on the floor, shoving the doctor to one side as she bent over his body and began to make such a long, low, ethereal keening sound that all the hairs stood up on Theodore’s neck and he was reminded, once again, just how blessed he was that all his children had survived into adulthood.
Even if one of them was still languishing under lock and key, perhaps still half-mad yet and awaiting trial for two crimes that she had not committed.
THERE WAS SO MUCH HAPPENING that Adelia had to step back for a moment and take in a deep breath to steady her senses. The main thing was that no one appeared to be dead although Oscar Brodie was not in a good way. Theodore was unharmed and Captain Everard appeared to be very much the hero of the moment. Lady Agnes was standing protectively close to him. Percy hovered by Oscar, poised as if he were about to strike the young man down if he dared to move. The Countess was ignored and put to one side, much to her disgust and Adelia’s secret delight.
Adelia could see that Theodore and Doctor Netherfield would do their best with Oscar and with Captain Everard. The most useful thing that Adelia could do, she reasoned, was to bring calm to the chaos all around so that the professionals could go about their business. The servants had been kicked into action by Mrs Rush who really was a marvel in an emergency, and one of the liveried men had already left on a fast horse bound for Plymouth.
Adelia went to Lady Katharine’s side and put her arm around the distraught mother’s shoulders. She said, firmly but not unkindly, “Come with me. We must let them do their work.”
Lady Katharine did not resist. Adelia managed to lead her away to a parlour on the first floor, at the front of the house, from where they could see the main driveway that led to the gates. They sank onto a wide couch that was angled in one of the alcoves by the windows. Lady Katharine leaned forward, curling around herself, shaking and weeping.
“What is going on?” she asked, over and over. “What has happened to my boy?”
“I imagine that his schemes have blown up in his face,” Adelia replied. “I mean that in all senses of possible interpretation. Oh, Lady Katharine, I am so sorry. But I am hopeful that the doctor can help him.” She didn’t want to promise that he would survive.
“What schemes? What are you talking about? Has someone tried to kill him? There is a murderer on the loose.” It was the most that Lady Katharine had ever said in one go.
Adelia realised, with deep distress, that Lady Katharine had absolutely no idea what
