“It wasn’t as if we knew the man, after all,” the countess said. “These things happen. I lost my husband. A big shock. Not at all pleasant, but I got on with it. I don’t hold with all this moping. Death is a fact of life. It’s going to come to all of us sooner or later.”
“We’re just hoping it’s not sooner,” Mr. Wexler said. “I don’t want my family in any danger.”
“Of course they’re not in danger,” the countess said. “Who’d want to kill you?”
I managed a poached egg on toast and was just finishing when Darcy came in. “I have to send another telegram,” he said. “Fancy a walk to the village after breakfast?”
“All right.” I got up. “Are you not breakfasting?”
“I ate hours ago. I’ve been out for a ride with Monty. Lovely morning. Frost on the grass.” He stared out the window as we walked from the room. “God, I miss my horses, don’t you?”
“I’ve been at home, so I’ve been able to ride,” I said.
“Lucky you.”
“Not much lucky about being at Castle Rannoch, I can assure you.” I grinned.
“And you’ll go back there after this?”
“I’ve nowhere else to go,” I said. “I don’t know what I’m going to do. They don’t want me there. I’m not allowed to use the London house. I may find myself as lady-in-waiting to one of the royal great-aunts.”
“I know people,” Darcy said. “I should be able to find something better than that for you.”
I managed a hopeful smile. “Really?”
“It’s a bugger, isn’t it?” he said. “This having no money.”
“Not a word I’m usually allowed to use,” I said. “But it is an absolute bugger.”
“We’ll work it out somehow. Even if I have to get a job in a bank or behind a sock counter in a gentlemen’s outfitter’s.”
This made me laugh. “You’d probably plot to rob the bank.”
“Nonsense. I’ve sworn to the straight and narrow these days.” Then he stopped and looked ahead. “Isn’t that your mother?”
A figure in a long mink coat was coming up the drive toward us. And a short, stocky figure beside her. “And my grandfather,” I said. “It’s a little early for a social call.”
Mummy spotted me at the same time and waved. “Yoo-hoo, darling! We were just coming to see you.”
They waited until we joined them. “Is something wrong?” I asked.
“It’s Miss Prendergast,” Mummy said. “We’re worried that something has happened to her.”
“Oh, no.” Darcy and I exchanged a glance.
“Well, I felt sorry for the old biddy,” Granddad said. “She had that awful shock yesterday. So I got your mum to come with me to see how she was doing this morning and nobody answers the door. We wondered—well, if anything might be wrong. Have you heard from the inspector this morning?”
“I haven’t seen anybody,” I said. “You didn’t happen to see her when you were out riding, did you?” I asked Darcy.
He shook his head. “We went up on the moors. Nowhere near the village.”
“Oh, no,” I said. “Poor Miss Prendergast. She is a bit of a busybody, isn’t she? I hope she didn’t see something that put her in danger.” And immediately it crossed my mind that she had been the first person into the church. If the killer had been in the process of making his getaway, had she caught a glimpse of him? Had he thought she’d seen him? In which case she had sealed her fate.
“We’d better go and take a look,” Darcy said. We walked back down the drive together at a quick pace.
“Strange woman, isn’t she?” Mummy said, taking quick and dainty little steps on her high platform shoes to keep up with us. “I wouldn’t have thought she was the type prone to hysterics. Always acted like one of those capable and no-nonsense females.”
“Well, she had just found a body,” Darcy pointed out.
“And you say she was a lifelong spinster?” Mummy went on. “I’d swear that woman was no virgin.”
We looked at her with interest. “Why do you say that?”
“The way she sat, darling. I noticed her particularly at that ball. She sat with her legs crossed, leaning back in her seat. Spinsters always sit bolt upright with their knees together.”
We had to laugh, but she went on. “They do. You know it’s that upbringing thing—their mothers drummed into them that the best form of birth control is to put a sixpence between your knees and keep it there.”
We were still laughing as she continued. “And there was something else I noticed yesterday. I don’t think she’s as old as we think. Did you see her hands? She didn’t have old hands. Look at your Granddad’s”—and she lifted one of his hands for my inspection—“wrinkles and age spots. Not at all nice. But hers were smooth and elegant.”
“Perhaps she just took care of them.”
“You can’t prevent age spots, no matter how much care you take.”
I tried to digest what this meant and then something struck me, like an explosion in my head. “Cornucopia,” I said, making them stop and look at me. “One of the words when we played charades. For the first syllable we had someone hobble like an old woman with corns. That was just after the two Misses Ffrench-Finch had crossed the room with Miss Prendergast. And later I had recalled that the first two walked exactly as we had depicted in the game, but Miss Prendergast strode out.”
“So if she’s really younger than she wants us to think,” Darcy said carefully, “what do you think that means?”
“That she’s not who she claims to be,” Mummy said. “What’s the betting she’s hiding out here?”
That stopped us all in our tracks at the bottom of the driveway.
“A package came for her yesterday,” I said. “From a firm in London. Angels. Any idea who they are?”
“I know that name. I’ve used them a thousand times. They’re well-known theatrical costumers,” Mummy said.
“Is it possible that she’s been hiding Robbins all this time, right under our noses?” Darcy said.
“Then who is she? We were told that his wife killed herself right after he was arrested. She couldn’t stand the shame,” I said.
“Killed herself by walking out into the ocean and the body was never found,” Darcy reminded me. “That’s an old trick for anyone who wants to disappear. So Mrs. Robbins is dead and Miss Prendergast, elderly spinster, comes to live in a Devon village, near where Robbins is in prison and where she can plan everything they are going to do when he breaks out.”
“Oh, crikey,” I said. “She was the first person on the scene when Miss Ffrench-Finch was found dead in her bed. It was Miss Prendergast who turned off the gas and opened the window.”
“So that there would be a legitimate reason for her prints to be on everything,” Granddad said.
“And yesterday in church,” Darcy went on, waving his arms excitedly now, “no wonder she had blood on her hands. She had just killed Barclay herself.”
Granddad wagged a finger at us. “You need to let Inspector Newcombe know about this right away. This is not something you should tackle yourself. They are nasty customers and may well be armed. I’ll go into the police station and you three behave as if nothing has happened.”
“Darcy and I will go and get a newspaper at the shop,” I said. “I can ask there if anybody has seen her this morning. Willum’s usually out and about.”
Darcy took my hand and we sauntered across the village green, two lovers out for an early morning stroll. In the shop we bought our paper and inquired about Willum.
“Willum? He’s come down with a nasty cold, my dearie,” Willum’s mother said. “I’m keeping him in bed today with a mustard plaster on his chest. Always had a weak chest, you know, so I can’t be too careful. Mind you, he’s so disappointed he’ll miss the celebrations tonight. He does so enjoy all that noise.”
“Please give him our best,” I said.
“I will, and I told him he can watch the fireworks on the green from his window, so he’s happy about that. Easy enough to make him happy, that’s one good thing.” And she smiled as she handed Darcy his change.
“Has Miss Prendergast been in for her paper this morning, by the way?” I asked casually. “She wasn’t home when my mother called on her a little while ago and we wondered if she was all right after that shock yesterday.”
“Wasn’t that just terrible?” Willum’s mother folded her arms across her ample bosom. “A shock for all of us
