Part 13 (1/2)

*So where do we go from here?' asked Rory.

*Wherever Mr Edward sends us,' I replied.

*Wherever that may be,' muttered Rory darkly, but I was heartened to hear he did not correct my p.r.o.noun. It was a tacit agreement to help. But then I knew he would never let me go into danger alone. Really, I was as manipulative as Miss Wilton.

I got my answer sooner than I expected. A telegram arrived the next morning from AE. It said: Advise visiting _____ Asylum in the county of _______. Late SS advisor and regular donator. Noted in family papers.

AE.

There was no mention of Miss Wilton's notebook. I sighed. How exactly was I meant to travel so far? I would have no choice but to show the telegram to Mr Bertram and I rather feared that in his current mood he would forbid me to go, which would make the journey all the more awkward. I decided to seek Rory's advice.

*There's only one way we can do this, Euphemia,' he said casting his eyes over the paper. *We'll have to take the automobile.'

*But Bertram?'

*You've not told him?'

I shook my head. *I told him of my intention to visit Mr Edward, but he appears to think it was only my natural shock and distress at discovering yet another corpse.'

*Doesn't know you as well as he thinks he does, does he?' said Rory a trifle smugly.

*His mind is elsewhere, but not sufficiently that we can confiscate his vehicle. Why he is out in it most days!'

*He'll be part of the funeral cortege, won't he?'

*We can't! Not then!'

*They'll never notice if you're at the back of the church or not,' said Rory. *You certainly won't be getting any thanks for all the work you've done.'

*But I need to pay my respects.'

*You didn't like the woman.'

*All the more reason,' I said stubbornly. *I regret I wasn't kinder.'

*Look at it this way; you're honouring her by following her line of enquiry.'

*But I don't know that this was her line of enquiry!'

*If Mr Edward is advising you to go there then you can be a.s.sured it's something to do with this mess. It can't be coincidence that it's another asylum he's suggesting.'

*Merrit will have to drive. What do we tell him?'

*Leave that to me,' said Rory.

I did not at all like our plan and on several occasions I determined to tell Mr Bertram all, but each time we spoke, and this was far from frequently, he was clearly preoccupied and grieving. I, in turn, was unreasonably short tempered because of my guilt and, in short, our relations.h.i.+p a whatever it was a was not going well. The day of the funeral advanced relentlessly towards us and I knew I could not tell him on such short notice. Rory had been most noticeable in his absence from my office.

It was the afternoon before Miss Beatrice Wilton's memorial service and of our clandestine adventure when Rory reappeared with a tea-tray.

*I've something to tell yous and I think yer gonna need a biscuit,' he said depositing the tray on my table in the middle of my papers.

*Rory!'

*Donna tell me meist of the work is not already done?'

*You're being alarmingly Scotch,' I said. *What's the matter?'

*I had a wee thought about yon Tipton being away from the hall. I don't know if you know this but there are several men's servants' clubs in the city. I managed to track down the one Tipton's valet belongs to and, after a sufficient number of pints, I managed to extract some information from the man. Seems Tipton had sent him back to town when he learned of the funeral.'

*Rory, you're a marvel.'

*Aye, well,' said Rory pouring the tea. *It wasnae that hard. The man fair loathes his master and was well up to moan about him. I tried not to make my questions too direct, so I got a lot of useless stuff about Tipton's vanity and his weak nature.'

*It might not be useless,' I said. *Anything that gives us insight into his behaviour.'

*There was a lot of talk about how Tipton would come to his room and shout about how unfair the world was to him. How no one appreciated what he did for them. Not many specifics. A lot of rage against Lord Stapleford.'

*That he wouldn't ever say to his face! What a coward.'

*Don't forget he was arguing with him on the night of Mrs Wilson's attack. Although, from what the valet said that does seem very out of character.'

*Like he'd reached breaking point?'

Rory nodded. *What's more he'd been known to throw things at the valet when in a temper. Typical action of a coward. Striking someone who cannot strike back.'

*Was the man hurt?' I asked in horror.

*No, he said all Tipton's servants knew they needed to be nippy on their feet when he was in a mood. But it was more brushes or gla.s.ses. Small things that lay to hand. I understand they keep his apartments especially tidy.'

*I see,' I said thoughtfully. *So a man who might lash out in rage, but not a fighter.'

*But there's more,' said Rory. *It turns out Tipton was in town on the day Miss Wilton died. The valet says Tipton was in a right mood about coming up as if it wasn't his idea at all, but it was all done in a terrible rush. It quite caught him out because he'd been in London only two months ago between the 12th and 19th and Tipton had sworn he hated the place and was never coming back. And guess where he stayed?'

*Here,' I said.

*Correct,' said Rory.

*Are we really suggesting Tipton could be a killer?' I asked.

*Weak men can surprise you when they are pushed hard enough, but I can't see it myself.'

*You don't happen to remember what colour his eyes are, do you?'

*Ach, Euphemia, it's rare to notice anyone's eye colour. It's one of those things you see all the time, but tend not to pay attention to.' He turned his head away. *What's mine?'