Part 2 (1/2)
”Miss Tremaine may have had the costume made to wear at a fancy dress ball next week.”
”Have you any idea why she would want to run away?”
”I do not know. I only know that she was bewildered and unhappy in society. Her father is a country rector and her parents would expect her to marry someone with money to offset the cost of a Season.”
”Nothing wrong with that,” muttered the earl.
”I a.s.sume you have interviewed her parents,” said Rose. ”Have they any idea why she would want to run away?”
”None whatsoever,” said Kerridge. ”In fact, they say that she was about to be engaged before the Season even started. To a certain Lord Berrow.”
”Lord Berrow is old,” said Rose. ”That is probably the reason she wanted to run away.”
”Fiddlesticks,” said Lady Polly. ”The trouble is that girls these days will read cheap romances. One does not marry for love.”
”Steady on, old girl,” protested the earl.
”We were a rare exception,” said Lady Polly. ”Where is this rector's church?”
”Probably somewhere dire like Much-Slopping-in-the Bog,” said the earl. ”Hey, rather neat that, what?”
Quite amazing, thought Kerridge. Their only child has just discovered a murder and yet they seem to have no concern for her welfare.
”Captain Cathcart,” announced the butler.
”How did he get here so quickly?” asked the earl.
”He's got a motor car,” said Rose.
”Nasty, smelly things. Never replace the horse. Sit down, Cathcart.” The earl pointed a finger at Rose. ”Rose is in trouble again.”
Kerridge reflected briefly that one of his mother's lectures had been, ”Don't point. Ladies and gentlemen don't point.” This lot would have been an eye-opener, thought Kerridge sourly.
”Lady Rose,” he began, ”discovered the murdered body of a Miss Dolly Tremaine early this morning.” Harry listened intently as Kerridge outlined all he knew.
”What do her family say?” asked Harry. ”Had she any enemies?”
”They are grief-stricken and bewildered. They do not know of any enemies.”
”Any brothers or sisters?”
”One son, Jeremy, aged twenty-seven. I think they might come up with more information when they get over the shock.”
”Odd, that,” commented the earl. ”Only two children. Thought those Church of England fellows bred like rabbits.”
”Not in front of Rose,” said Lady Polly. Then she stifled a sigh, thinking of all the little graves in the churchyard at Stacey Court, their country estate-all eight of Rose's little brothers and sisters who had died in childbirth.
”When did you leave the ball last night?” Harry asked Rose.
”Around two in the morning.”
”And was Miss Tremaine still there?”
”I remember no longer seeing her around midnight.”
”So sometime between, say, midnight and six in the morning, someone murdered her and dressed the body. You will need to search the rector's town house.”
”The parents say her bed was not slept in. She planned to run away,” said Kerridge. ”She may have changed into that costume to please a lover who then murdered her.”
”I don't like this,” said Harry. ”I think whoever murdered her knew she was going to meet Lady Rose early in the morning. Lady Rose, do you still have that note?”
”I must have dropped it at the ball. But I remember putting it in my reticule, which I left with Daisy when I danced.”
”We'd better have Daisy here.”
Lady Polly ordered Daisy to be brought to the drawing-room.
When she entered, Kerridge said, ”Lady Rose says she left her reticule with you while she danced. Did you leave it unattended at any time?”
”I left it on a chair when I danced with the captain,” said Daisy. ”I was sitting next to Countess Slerely. I usually do. Anyone picking it up and searching in it would be noticed.”
”I think you danced with Captain Cathcart before Dolly gave me that note,” said Rose. ”Did you leave at any other time?”
”Well, one time I had to go to the you-know-what. That was just before midnight.”
”I'd better call on Countess Slerely,” said Kerridge. ”Lady Rose, if you can think of anything else ...”
”No, she can't,” said the earl. ”She shouldn't have been out at that unG.o.dly hour unchaperoned.”
”I was there,” said Daisy.
The earl ignored her. ”No more cycling for you, young lady. Go to your room.”
”As for you,” said the earl, glaring at Harry, ”as my daughter is somehow involved in this, I expect you to clear things up as soon as possible. And while you're here, what do you think you are doing ignoring my daughter in such a manner?”
”I am sorry. My apologies, but pressure of work-”
”Pah! Behave yourself in future or I shall call off this ridiculous engagement myself.”
”I wonder,” said Harry later that day to his manservant, ”where Dr. Tremaine got enough money to take a house for the Season and to furnish an expensive wardrobe for his daughter.”
”He's well-connected,” said Becket. ”His aunt was Lady Tremaine and she married well and left him quite a large legacy.”