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Authors: Elizabeth Edmondson

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BOOK: A Question of Inheritance
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The Superintendent closed his notebook with a slap. ‘Nonetheless, we’ll need a statement from you, as we will from everyone who was here on Christmas night. If you care to come along to the study with me, I’ll have a constable take down your statement.’

Silently, Dinah got up and followed him out of the kitchen.

Hugo and Freya looked at one another.

Hugo said, ‘Why is she lying?’

‘You noticed, did you? I don’t know. She was obviously relieved that it wasn’t Gus who was dead.’

Hugo nodded. ‘So you’ve noticed that those two get on well together.’

‘Yes,’ Freya said. ‘But this is hardly the time to think about that. Dinah said she’d come to bring a book for Leo.’ She gestured to the parcel, which lay on the table. ‘I dare say she did, but I don’t think it’s the main reason she’s here.’

Freya hung up the damp tea towel above the range and said, ‘Do you know where Georgia and Polly are? I’m not sure how Polly will take the news. Georgia wasn’t shocked when they found Selchester’s body, because she’d never known him and besides, bones aren’t quite like a body.’

‘Not when they’re your uncle’s bones?’

‘We aren’t talking about me, but about Georgia. And Polly, too. You never know how they’ll take things at that age.’

‘Babs has come out of her reverie and with great good sense taken them up to play skittles.’

‘Skittles?’

‘Yes. You told her you used to play skittles up in the Long Gallery at the top of the Castle.’

Freya said, ‘Yes, of course, it just seems that at a time like this—’

‘Inappropriate? Callous? Nothing of the kind. It’s much the best thing. The police won’t want them underfoot, although they will have to question them at some point. And it’ll take their minds off what’s going on. The ambulance will be here for Oliver, and it’s best that they keep out of the way until he’s gone.’

‘Is Dr Rogers still here?’

Hugo said, ‘No, he left a little while ago; he had a patient to see. Leo and Gus are seeing to everything.’

‘Poor Oliver. The unwanted guest, carted off in an ambulance to the mortuary. And I’m just glad it wasn’t Gus.’ Freya sat down, resting her head in her hands. She looked up, taking a deep breath and pushing her hair of her forehead. ‘It’s horrible. There he was, and then a jolt of electricity and he’s no longer with us.’

Hugo said, ‘It’s odd. During the war we got so used to death and yet when it comes close to home suddenly and violently like this it’s such a shock. Even though none of us knew Oliver well.’

Dinah was back. She sat on the bench, gratefully accepted a cup of coffee and said brightly, ‘Well, that’s that. What I had to say to the police was no use to them, but I suppose they have to be meticulous.’

‘Dinah, you did know Oliver, didn’t you?’ Freya said.

Dinah looked from Freya to Hugo and then down into her cup. She said nothing.

‘You can talk in front of Hugo. He’s capable of keeping secrets and confidences to a remarkable degree.’

And that was true; it was one of thing she liked about Hugo. You’d expect him not to talk about the work he did up at the Hall, or about the secret life that she suspected he’d led before he came to Selchester. She had her own secrets to keep, and so respected him for it. But she also knew that if you said something privately to Hugo it would go no further; it was a safe as talking to Leo.

Dinah give a big sigh. ‘I’m not exactly lying. I didn’t know Oliver Seynton; I never met him in my life. And I certainly didn’t know that he was here.’ A long pause, and then she said slowly, ‘Let me put it this way. If I’d known that he was a guest at the Castle and if I had thought that I would meet him at dinner on Christmas night, I wouldn’t have come.’

Freya looked at her, puzzled. ‘You didn’t know, him but you feel that strongly about him?’

Dinah hesitated and then said, ‘It’s to do with Marcus.’

‘Marcus?’ Hugo said.

Freya answered for Dinah. ‘Marcus was Dinah’s twin brother.’

Dinah said, ‘He died in the war.’

She looked at Freya, ‘You know we were brought up speaking French fluently, because Pa was keen on all things French. Come the war, people with good French were in demand.’

‘Marcus was in the Special Operations Executive,’ Freya said to Hugo.

‘And so,’ said Dinah, her voice cold and bitter, ‘was Oliver Seynton. I assume he had some French connections and spoke French like a native, or they wouldn’t have taken him.’

Freya said, ‘I know nothing about him, or his background.’

‘None of us do,’ Hugo said. ‘Except perhaps Sonia. So your brother and Oliver were both in the SOE during the war?’

Dinah looked down at her hands. ‘Marcus died in France. He was helping the Resistance, and he was turned over to the Germans. Who killed him.’

There was a world of story behind those stark words. Freya wondered how much Dinah knew of the details. ‘Do you know how he died?’

‘Not much. They never tell you the gory details. But we all have a fair idea of what happened to people like Marcus if they were captured. It went with the job. Marcus took risks – he had to. You could say he was just unlucky. People were.’

Dinah looked up and her eyes were full of anger, ‘Only this time it wasn’t a matter of bad luck. Marcus was betrayed. By Oliver Seynton.’

Hugo said, ‘Are you saying that Oliver was a traitor?’

Dinah shook her head. ‘Not exactly. It was something to do with a Jewish girl who worked in the Resistance. A mixture of mistake and cowardice. It doesn’t matter because the result was that when the war ended, Marcus was dead and Oliver was alive.’

Hugo said, ‘If, as you say, they didn’t give out many details of what happened to anyone who died while on an operation, how do you know this?’

‘It was pure chance. Last time I was in Paris I was at a dinner party, and I sat next to a Frenchman who had been in the Resistance.’ She managed a smile. ‘I mean really in the Resistance, not claiming to be, in the way that most of the population did once the war had ended. The ones who joined in 1946, as they put it. Of course, my name isn’t the same, but he noticed the resemblance and asked if I was related to Marcus.’

Freya said to Hugo, ‘It was remarkable how alike Dinah and Marcus were. When they were younger – and you were a terrific tomboy, Dinah, weren’t you? – people took them for identical twins. And even when you were grown up anybody would have known you for brother and sister.’

‘Yes, and that’s why the Frenchman recognised me. He told me what Oliver had done.’

Hugo said, ‘Once you knew that, did you make any attempt to find out what had happened to Oliver, whether he’d survived the war? Or try to contact him?’

‘In a mad moment I might have done that. Tried to find him and accuse him. Tell him that he had been responsible for the death of the person I loved most in the whole world. Marcus was part of me; he was my other half. You wouldn’t understand; you never had a brother. And there’s a special link with twins. I knew. I woke in the night and I knew something terrible had happened to Marcus.’

Tears were running down her face, and she opened her handbag to take out a hankie. She dabbed at her eyes. ‘I’m sorry. It’s one of those things I don’t think I’ll ever get over. But that’s why—’ She took a deep breath. ‘That’s why I say that if I’d known Oliver was going to be at dinner here, nothing would have brought me to the Castle. I couldn’t have sat down at table with him.’

Hugo was looking thoughtful. ‘How much of this have you told the police?’

Dinah said, ‘I answered all the questions that the police asked me truthfully. I didn’t tell them anything about Marcus, why should I? I’ve no intention of doing so. It can’t have any bearing on Oliver’s death.’

Didn’t she realise this might give her a motive for murder? Freya exchanged glances with Hugo. He was thinking the same. But no, Dinah was flooded by memories of Marcus and wasn’t thinking clearly about the present situation.

Hugo said, ‘It doesn’t seem to be relevant. If it is, you’ll have to come clean. You can’t supply any information about Oliver’s present circumstances or family or anything like that, can you?’

‘No.’

‘Besides,’ Hugo went on, ‘I don’t know what theory the police are going to come up with but I suspect that Oliver wasn’t the intended victim.’

Freya said, ‘I’ve come to the same conclusion. I know that’s what Leo thinks.’

Dinah stared at them. ‘I’m so glad it wasn’t Gus. But why would anyone want to kill him?’

Hugo said, ‘That’s what we have to find out.’

Scene 6

Lunch that day was a subdued affair. It was mostly leftovers from Christmas Day. Mrs Partridge had come back from the town with several loaves of bread to make sandwiches for the police.

Gus had suggested the police might care to join them in the dining room, but Mrs Partridge wasn’t having that. ‘They’ve taken over his late lordship’s study and sitting room; they can eat in there.’

Hugo didn’t like to say that the policeman weren’t going to sit down at table with a group of people who were all suspects for a murder.

Sonia was in a disgruntled mood. She wanted to leave, but the police had told her that she couldn’t. ‘It’s too bad. Are they going to arrest me? Why on earth should I want to murder Oliver? Why should anyone want to kill Oliver? It’s a complete mystery to me.’

Leo said, ‘You must know more about him than any of us, Lady Sonia.’

Sonia disagreed. ‘Hardly. I know him because he does useful things with pictures for all kinds of friends. But that’s not knowing him. I mean, we meet occasionally at cocktail parties, that kind of thing, but we don’t move in the same circles. Or didn’t, I should say, since any circles he’s now moving in aren’t anywhere I plan to be.’

Hugo said, ‘What circles did he move in?’

Sonia threw a glance at Rupert. ‘Do you know?’

‘Oh, for heaven’s sake, Sonia. I hardly met the guy until we were all squashed into my car.’

Was this indifference assumed? Was Rupert really just the smooth and superficial man he appeared to be? Hugo suspected a trickier, more complex nature. He’d need it, if he were going to climb the greasy pole of a political career.

Sonia said, ‘I think he’s part of Ricky Armitage’s set. All those arty people who live on the fringes of what used to be called Bloomsbury. The Superintendent asked me for his address. How should I know where he lives? I suppose he has lodgings somewhere. The police will have to find out for themselves. Isn’t that what they’re paid to do, investigate?’

‘You don’t know anything about his family?’ Leo said. ‘Did he have any brothers or sisters?’

Sonia said, ‘I never asked, and I don’t care.’

‘Careful, Sonia,’ Rupert said. ‘Don’t sound too ruthless, or they’ll start to think that you’re exactly the kind of person to stick a knife into somebody’s ribs.’

The whole table fell silent. Sonia gave Rupert venomous look. ‘No, darling, no knife this time. That was what happened to my father, if you remember. And I wasn’t the one who did it.’

Rupert held up his hands in a gesture of mock surrender. ‘My apologies, I spoke without thinking. One shouldn’t talk of rope in the house of the hanged and so on. Sorry, Gus.’

That brought the meal to an uneasy close. Gus, rising from the table, summoned his daughters with authority. ‘Get your coats on, we’re going for a walk.’

Babs scowled. ‘Not me thanks, Pops.’

Gus said, ‘I didn’t ask you, Babs, I told you. You haven’t seen anything of the surrounding countryside except from the windows of the car. You’ve been cooped up indoors, and a walk will do you both good.’

Freya said, ‘It’s a pity the weather is so frosty because otherwise you could have gone to watch the Boxing Day meet.’

Babs shuddered. ‘A lot of people in red coats all set to gallop after foxes? That’s not my idea of fun.’

Georgia said, ‘They’re called pink coats and it’s not done just for fun, even though the people who do it enjoy it. It’s jolly useful because if the foxes weren’t kept under they’d have all the hens and lambs. Besides, it’s very English and you’re English now. You have to get used to that kind of thing.’

It was clear from Gus’s face that he wasn’t going to take any rebellion from his daughters. So they went off to wrap up in the coats, scarves, hats, gloves and walking shoes necessary for any expedition at this time of the year.

Georgia went upstairs to have a happy tootle on her horn, while Freya and Hugo and Leo decamped to the kitchen to have their post-lunch coffee. Mrs Partridge was there with Pam, who had come up from the town again to help out. She was full of excitement after being interviewed by the police.

Mrs Partridge was quelling Pam. ‘It doesn’t do any good to tell the police any more than you have to. That’s a rule in life you’ll do well to follow, my girl.’

Pam said, ‘But it’s a murder inquiry.’

Mrs Partridge said, ‘It makes no difference. Do your duty as a citizen and nothing more. What needs to be found out, they’ll find out without your help.’

Freya said, ‘I suppose they’ve finished questioning all of us now. Not that it’s much help, except they’ve established that no one saw Oliver after eight o’clock.’

Pam said, ‘What they wanted to know from Auntie and me was about that strange man who called on Christmas afternoon.’

Leo, Hugo and Freya all stared at her. ‘What strange man?’

Mrs Partridge closed the oven door with a slam. ‘Oh, it had quite left my mind. I never even mentioned it to his lordship. But Pam here let on about it to the police and they were on to it like dogs pouncing on a rat.’

‘Did they question you together?’

Mrs Partridge said, ‘They did. Pam here is only sixteen and underage. No call to be questioning her without someone else being present, and seeing as how I’m her aunt, that was me.’

Hugo said, ‘Tell us about the stranger.’

‘It was Christmas afternoon, when all of you except Mr Seynton had gone off over to Veryan House for tea. And he wasn’t here, either, since he’d gone out for a walk. I went into Grace Hall and there this man was, standing there. I knew who it was, it was the gentleman that has rented Nightingale Cottage. Mind you, he looked right out of place here; I’ve never seen anyone with such a tan on him. So I called out to Auntie.’

BOOK: A Question of Inheritance
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