Deadly Desires at Honeychurch Hall (31 page)

“As far as we can tell, Mr. Prince-Avery was struck over the head,” said Shawn.

“Whoever did it, put his body in the mire and probably thought he'd sink straight to the bottom,” said Roxy. “Of course, we'll have forensics out—eventually. As usual, they're backed up.”

“I'm feeling rather faint,” said Lavinia. “Must go and lie down.”

“Do we need to be here?” Rupert said. “Neither of us knows of this Prince-Avery fellow.”

“In light of these new revelations about this so-called scam,” said Shawn firmly, “I'd prefer you to stay, m'lord.”

“Surely you don't think any of us had something to do with it?” said Rupert.

“Are you positive they were running a scam?” Lavinia sounded desperate. “It seems a frightful amount of trouble to go to for such a paltry sum of money.”

“Paltry?” said Roxy. “I coughed up two hundred quid!”

“That's just the tip of the iceberg, m'lady,” said Shawn. “It's not about the money. It's the fact that scam artists like this get access to personal information that can lead to all kinds of mischief—identity theft being just one.”

“Scotland Yard is already looking into whether they have done this in other parts of the country,” Roxy chimed in, adding a deferential, “
m'lady
.”

“Let's hope they have,” said Rupert. “Then you won't seem like gullible idiots.”

“When Doreen finds out, she'll be devastated,” Roxy went on. “Everyone will be. It's just not right! How could this have happened?”

“I'm so sorry,” Lavinia whispered. “So sorry.”

“The existence of a website hints at a much bigger organization involving identity theft,” said Shawn. “We shall be involving Interpol.”

“Valentine and Benedict were in Africa at some point together,” I said.

“I told you. Never trust a man with a small head and an orange tan,” said Mum.

“Third-world countries are renowned for harvesting e-mail addresses that they sell to nefarious organizations,” said Shawn. “Rest assured, we know what we're doing.”

I had to admit that I was impressed. I had always taken Shawn for a country bumpkin type with his tousled hair and almost Lieutenant Columbo–like demeanor.

“Yes, Ms. Stanford,” Shawn said, looking directly at me. “It would seem that even Little Dipperton has fallen foul to cyber-warfare.”

“But we don't even have the Internet at the Hall,” Lavinia protested. “Edith refuses to even entertain the thought.”

“And I agree with her,” said Mum. “It causes nothing but trouble.”

“People get killed for four reasons,” said Shawn. “They have something that belongs to the killer, they heard something they shouldn't have, they know something, or they said something.”

“Don't we want to ask who stands to gain from Valentine's death?” I said.

“Kat's right,” said Mum. “Maybe Benedict Scroope wanted all the spoils for himself and did Valentine in.”

“There were plenty of people in the pub on Monday night who would have liked to have done Prince-Avery in,” said Roxy. “But my guess is that Scroope holds the key.”

“The
shoes
hold the key,” said Mum.

“Shoes?” said Rupert.

“We retrieved the other one. They are a pair.” Shawn took a deep breath. “I'm afraid I have to ask you about these, m'lord.” He nodded to Roxy who produced a plastic carrier bag from nowhere. Gravely, she set it down on the table.

Mum whispered into my ear. “Shawn's show-and-tell again.”

“Do these shoes look familiar to you, m'lord?” said Shawn.

Rupert pulled a face. “Good heavens, man, of course not. Why?”

“They were in the field,” said Roxy. “One shoe was down a badger sett—”

“Mr. Chips found it,” Mum declared.

“The other shoe was close to where the victim's body was found, lying on top of the actual mire itself,” said Roxy. “The killer obviously left it behind.”

“What size shoe do you take, m'lord?” Shawn asked.

Rupert flushed an angry red. “That's none of your business!”

“It's just a simple question,” said Roxy.

“And I don't have to answer it.”

“Would you like to have a solicitor present?” said Roxy with a tinge of sarcasm.

“Good God, woman, of course not!”

I stole a look at Mum. Her mouth was wide open as she looked from one to the other in amazement.

“Please answer the question,” said Shawn.

“My word should be good enough. Besides, I have not been here. I took Harry back to school on Monday evening and I went on to London where I stayed at my club. The moment I discovered the truth about the campaign, I drove straight down. I have several people who can confirm my whereabouts.”

“Oh for heaven's sake. Just tell them or I will.” Lavinia paused dramatically then said, “Rupert takes a size five.”

“A five!” Roxy gasped. “Blimey, my little brother takes a seven and he's only twelve.”

“Rupert has always had a thing about the size of his feet,” said Lavinia.

“Lavinia!” Rupert hissed, clearly horrified by such a personal revelation.

I heard Mum snigger and dared not look at her.

“Well, that counts you out, m'lord,” said Roxy, barely suppressing a grin.

“What about Eric?” Mum asked. “He's got big feet.”

“We have already spoken to Eric. He takes a size ten.”

“Can we leave now?” said Rupert. “I've got a lot of phone calls to make following this debacle.”

“Very well.” Shawn nodded. “If we need to ask you any questions, we know where to find you.”

Rupert and Lavinia left the kitchen and the four of us sat down. The shoes made a sinister centerpiece on the kitchen table. “Do you mind if we move those?” said Shawn.

Roxy put them back in the bag.

“Scams are often personal,” said Shawn. “I know that there is something you are not telling me.”

“There is,” I said. “My mother wants to protect Lavinia but this is what happened.” I recounted the conversation I'd overheard in the cupboard but left out Lavinia's so-called mental affair. “I think Lavinia felt she owed Benedict something in a way.”

“They knew each other as children,” said Mum defensively. “She trusted him.”

“And of course, being a family friend, no one would think to question it,” said Shawn.

“Seriously? Does that woman even
have
a brain?” said Roxy. “She's so gullible. She'll believe anything.”

“Scroope was obviously trying to wangle in on her wealthy friends,” said Shawn.

I nodded in agreement, adding, “Valentine asked me all kinds of questions about the Honeychurch family money, too.”

“Why didn't you tell me that?” said Mum crossly.

“Ms. Stanford, how well did you know the deceased?” Shawn asked.
We were back to Ms. Stanford again
. This did not bode well. “You were seen coming out of his bedroom on Monday evening.”

“Who said it was his bedroom?” said Mum, springing to my defense. “It could have been an upstairs sitting room.”

Shawn looked surprised but nodded to Roxy all the same. She withdrew a copy of Wednesday's
Daily Post
from her bottomless bag under the table.

“You're a bit behind the times,” said Mum. “We've already seen that. Didn't you realize the shoe I gave you was wrapped up in page three?”

“
KAT AND HER NEW MAN
,” Shawn read aloud. “It must have been embarrassing finding out that you had—in essence—endorsed this scam by agreeing to be the spokesperson. When word got out, it would have damaged your reputation.”

“I didn't know about the scam until about an hour ago,” I pointed out. “And if you must know, I was talking to Valentine in his … suite … about my mother's options.”

“And the sale at Chillingford Court,” said Mum. “He was a bit of a collector, apparently.”

“When you came to the police station on Wednesday, you told me that you had fallen from a horse—”

“Seriously? You think I got into a fight with Valentine?” I exclaimed. “You can check with the dowager countess if you don't believe me. She was there when I came off.”

Shawn reddened. “No need to get upset. I'm just asking routine questions.”

“You should ask Patty,” said Mum. “She did Valentine in. He mowed down her mother and she got her revenge.”

“Ms. Gully doesn't wear a man's shoe size eleven,” said Shawn. “Let's go over the timing again, shall we? When did you first suspect something was awry?”

“On Tuesday,” I said wearily. “I already told you this, Shawn. After I found Valentine's walking cane in the field.”

“Kat said it was nowhere near Coffin Mire,” Mum chimed in.

“Thank you, Mrs. Stanford,” said Shawn. “Allow the police to do their job.”

“And I think the walking cane was the murder weapon!” Mum went on. “The French bulldog handle looked pretty sharp. We didn't see any blood on there but of course, it's been raining.”

“I'd like to take a look at that,” said Shawn.

“Can't you spray illumination on it?” Mum asked.

“You mean Luminol,” said Shawn. “I can assure you that forensics will take care of that.”

“Or it could have been one of those placards,” I suggested. “They were heavy. Did you go and talk to Ogwell?”

“Yes. The car is being examined at our vehicular recovery center as we speak.”

“I still don't understand why Valentine put the placards in the SUV,” said Mum. “Or do you think he panicked after hitting poor Joyce?”

“I'm afraid we can't comment on that at this time,” Shawn said pompously. “What else can you tell us about Monday?”

“We met him on Monday afternoon,” said Mum.

Shawn seemed surprised. “You met him earlier in the day?”

“Down by Cavalier Copse,” said Mum. “We were picking sloes.”

“And Harry said he'd been waiting for us,” I reminded her.

Roxy frowned. “But how would he have known that you would have been there?”

“Lavinia,” Mum and I chorused. “Mrs. Cropper may have told her that we were out picking sloes; Lavinia told Benedict and Benedict told Valentine.”

“You two should be detectives,” said Roxy dryly.

“Valentine got very jittery when I mentioned that David had friends at the ministry,” I recalled. “Perhaps that was what spooked him.”

“Yes,” Mum agreed. “He must have known it was only a matter of time before he got found out.”

“I felt that Valentine was pushed into the protest meeting,” I went on. “He had seemed unprepared and claimed that none of his presentation materials had arrived. He had also mentioned that he wanted to talk to everyone personally about their options first.”

“Of course he'd want to meet with them alone!” Roxy scoffed. “Far more effective speaking in someone's home and frightening them half to death.”

“In fact, when Patty and I pulled into the pub car park on Monday night, I saw Valentine on his mobile outside.” I distinctly remembered Valentine pacing up and down. “He seemed very agitated.”

“So let's go back to Monday night,” said Shawn. “After the protest meeting, where did you go?”

“I drove Patty and Angela home…” A flash of Joyce, facedown in the water, filled my vision. “You know the rest.”

“What time did you get back?” said Shawn.

“Angela and I waited until the paramedics left and Doreen took Patty back to the Hare & Hounds for a little while—”

“Are you telling us that Patty didn't spend the night at the pub?” Shawn said sharply.

“Doreen said Patty insisted on being in her own bed.”

Roxy leaned into Shawn and whispered something into his ear. He gave a nod. “So what time
did
you get home, Ms. Stanford?”

I shrugged. “Eleven-thirty. Maybe midnight—you can check with Angela.”

“We did,” said Roxy. “Angela denied it.”

I gasped. “Seriously? I walked her into her house because she was so freaked out by everything.”

“Not according to Angela,” said Roxy.

“Of course she'd deny it,” Mum said crossly. “She blames Kat for the cow incident.”

“Oh for heaven's sakes!” I said. “I was at the auction with my mother all of Wednesday afternoon and evening—apart from when Angela Parks was trampled by cows. I haven't seen Valentine since Monday!”

“Speaking of Angela Parks,” said Roxy. “She is suing you for negligence claiming that she will never act again because of losing her front teeth. Apparently she was going to audition for that upstairs-downstairs drama.”

“
Downton Abbey
?” said Mum with a snort. “Who are they killing off this time?”

“We're not talking about yesterday.” Shawn was getting exasperated. “Valentine Prince-Avery was killed in the early hours of Tuesday morning.”

“That's not possible,” I said. “I've been exchanging text messages with Valentine—oh, but … there was a message.”

“A message?” Shawn exclaimed. “We'll want to listen to that.”

I grabbed my tote bag and handed Shawn my mobile. He dialed voice mail and hit speaker.

“
Kat, I will never give up. I know you don't believe me but when you kissed—
”

“Sorry, wrong one.” I snatched the phone away and hit delete. My face was burning with embarrassment.

“That was David Wynne,” said Mum. “In case you were wondering.”

“We weren't,” said Shawn gruffly.

“Here, this is it.” I handed Shawn the phone again and we all listened to Valentine's last message. “
Call me back. It's urgent. I must—
”