A Death in Devon Read online

  Almost as one, we stormed up the stairs behind her. The door to Lil’s room was open, and she stood in the middle of the room, staring around her in horror. The place was a mess, clothes tossed everywhere, cosmetic pots tipped over, nail varnish dripping down the side of the vanity. And along one wall, scrawled in red, the word DIE.

  We all stared, transfixed.

  An unfamiliar masculine voice piped up from behind me, “Hey. What’d I miss?”

  Chapter 9

  “Who the devil are you?” Cobblepot demanded, his wild eyebrows growing wilder by the minute. “Constable! Detain this man!”

  “Hey!” The newcomer held up his hands in surrender. “What’s going on? I just got here.”

  “Alex.” Freddy wended his way through the crowd and gave the stranger a manly handshake. “You’ve stepped into a hornet’s nest, my good fellow, that’s for sure.”

  “Do tell,” Alex said cheerfully.

  This then was Alexander Malburn, the missing guest. He was exceedingly handsome, although perhaps not as handsome as Simon Parlance, with hair the color of a raven’s wing in loose ringlets about his head and unusually large eyes—the same gray as a Pacific Northwest raincloud—ringed by sooty lashes. His nose was perfectly straight, but his lips were a little fuller than most British men and his skin, while pale, held just a hint of duskiness as if he had perhaps a touch of Roman or Moroccan blood.

  He wore a casual but expensive navy suit with a pale blue button-down shirt and a wide yellow and blue tie. His driving loafers looked like they might be Italian leather, and he carried a fedora in one hand. Every inch the gentleman of wealth and leisure.

  “Detective Inspector.” Freddy turned to Cobblepot. “This is my good friend, Mr. Alexander Malburn. He was meant to come down last night but was delayed. Isn’t that right, dear boy?”

  “Sure thing,” Alex said with a movie-star grin. “Had a bit of business to attend to in London, so drove down early this morning. Just pulled up not five minutes ago.”

  Which put him out of the running for murderer. If he really did arrive only five minutes ago. After all, he could have driven down last night, snuck up through the grounds, did the deed, and slipped away without anyone the wiser. We’d only his word.

  “I’ll still want to have a word with you,” Cobblepot said. “After I’ve had a chat with the others. Lady Fortescue, the constable will take you to my office and get you a nice cup of tea.”

  It didn’t escape either me or Freddy that he’d referred to it as “his” office. Apparently Cobblepot wasn’t the sort to be cowed by Freddy’s wealth or position.

  “Come on down to the dining room, Alex,” Freddy said. “I’ll catch you up while Johnson whips up some whiskey and sodas.”

  “I could go for that,” Alex said, clapping Freddy on the back. “Now, tell me, old man, what the deuce is going on around here?”

  The police herded the rest of us along with them, although I wished they’d have left me alone. I needed time to think and maybe to poke around Lil’s room for clues. Alas, it was not meant to be.

  While Freddy rustled up drinks, the constable went around the room asking everyone whether or not their rooms had been messed with, and where they were between the times the rooms were searched by the police and Lady Fortescue had found hers awry. The answers were disappointingly the same. No one was missing anything, everyone’s rooms were in perfect order, and all the guests had been in the dining room save for Malburn who’d just arrived.

  Which meant that everyone except Malburn had a perfect alibi. Well, Malburn and the servants. They’d supposedly been in the kitchen, but had anyone been watching them? Perhaps among them we would find Raymond Frain’s accomplice. For he must have one. It didn’t make sense otherwise.

  “Toni,” I said, pulling her aside, “tell me about the first house party that was burgled.”

  “It was ever so exciting,” she told me in a low voice. She took a sip of her whiskey and soda and continued. “It was at Lady Olivander’s party. There must have been a dozen guests staying the week, plus another dozen that had been invited from the neighborhood. Dinner, dancing... you know the drill.”

  “Yes, of course,” I said, though I’d no idea. The closest thing to a house party I’d ever been to was Christmas at my grandparents’ with all the cousins. I doubted it was anything like Lady Olivander’s party.

  “Anyway, the locals had toddled off home, and we’d all gone to bed when there was this almighty crash. Everyone rushed out to find one of the statuaries toppled over and smashed on the floor.”

  “Oh, that’s terrible,” I said.

  “It was,” she agreed. “That statue was from ancient Rome. Can you imagine? It survives two thousand years only to be smashed to smithereens in Lady Olivander’s foyer? The poor woman had a fit!” She took another slug of whiskey. “Anyway, once the hubbub had died down, we managed to get ourselves back to bed only to be roused again by a shriek. It was Lil. She claimed someone had been in her room, and a necklace was missing. Family heirloom or some such.”

  “Lil was the first to discover she’d been robbed?”

  “Indeed, she was,” Toni said. “That sent the rest of us scurrying to our rooms to see if anything had been taken.”

  “And had it?”

  “But of course, darling. I was missing a ruby hatpin. Stupid little thing. More sentimental than valuable thought it looked costly. I never travel with my expensive jewelry you see. Let’s see... Raymond was there, poor sod. He was missing a pocket watch. Probably the only thing of value he owned. Mary was missing a sapphire cocktail ring. Alex and Simon weren’t there, so they got off scot-free. Sir Ruben—you haven’t met him but he’s a dear friend of Lady Olivander’s—was missing a set of cuff links. And Vivian Moreton—ghastly woman—had a set of earrings and a bottle of perfume go missing.”

  “Perfume? That’s an odd thing for a thief to take,” I said. “What kind was it?”

  “A Lanvin. Lovely stuff. No idea why anyone would steal it, though.” She shrugged. “Maybe he’s a pervert with a thing for fake blondes. Oh!” She slapped her hand over her mouth. “But the thief was Raymond, wasn’t it? And one shouldn’t speak ill of the dead.”

  I gave her a vague smile, unwilling to commit to Raymond’s guilt one way or the other. “What about Freddy?”

  “Oh, he wasn’t there. He and Lady Olivander loathe each other.”

  Which confirmed what Jack had told me. “And the lady herself?”

  “An antique gold bracelet, a scarab brooch, and some cash from the household cookie jar.”

  “It wasn’t in her room?”

  She shook her head. “The housekeeper reported it missing.”

  It seemed odd to me that one would entrust one’s cash to a housekeeper, but then that was the wealthy for you. “So someone must have known the house well enough to know where the cash was kept.”

  “I suppose. I never really thought about it.”

  I was about to ask her about the rest of the thefts, when I realized Alex, the newcomer, had been left standing alone. This was my chance to speak to him! I strolled over to where he was holding up the wall, a tumbler of whiskey and soda in his hand. He eyed me over, raising one eyebrow in approval. Which was unusual. I wasn’t unattractive, but men as handsome as Malburn rarely gave me a second glance.

  I introduced myself. He did likewise, insisting I call him Alex.

  “You’re the American,” he drawled. “How are you enjoying our little corner of the world? Such excitement.”

  “It was nice until somebody bumped off poor Mr. Frain.”

  “Yes, it’s a shame about poor Ray. Nice enough chap.” He took a swallow of whiskey. He didn’t appear that upset. Perhaps they hadn’t been close.

  “You knew him well?”

  “Not well, but well enough to know he didn’t do what they’re accusing him of.” He swallowed another mouthful of booze and his eyes glittered bright and hard.

  Interesting. “How can
you be sure? It’s surprising what people are capable of.”

  “Usually, yes, you are right. People are capable of the most astonishing things, but not Ray. Straight arrow. One of the good ones. And what’d he need with money, anyway?”

  He made a good point, but was he just saying that because I was a stranger and that was what people her supposed to say? Or did he really mean it? I couldn’t get a read on Alex. Total poker face.

  I was about to ask another question when Lil marched into the room, sobbing wildly and dramatically. It had the immediate effect of the menfolk rushing to soothe her with sympathetic words and glasses of booze. Toni rolled her eyes, and Mary—who had been left by herself on the divan—let out a huff. Clearly neither woman was buying Lil’s histrionics.

  One by one, the police questioned the others, leaving Alex for last.

  “He’s scrummy, isn’t he?” Toni said as Alex Malburn followed the constable from the room.

  “I suppose.” He was definitely good looking.

  “Too bad he’s poor as a church mouse.”

  “Really? I thought he was supposed to be fabulously wealthy.”

  She gave me a sly look. “Oh, he will be. When his uncle kicks off. But until then, he’s on a very tight leash. Mustn’t upset dear Uncle.”

  I eyed the empty doorway where he’d passed through. How interesting. That meant that Alexander Malburn probably needed money. Or wanted it, at any rate. Could he have been Raymond’s partner and therefore his killer?

  Somehow or other I needed to check his alibi. Had he really been on the road from London? Or had he been sneaking in to murder poor Raymond Frain?

  A yawn overtook me and so, with permission of the constable, I took myself off to bed. Maybe things would make more sense much later in the morning.

  LATER THAT DAY, I MADE my way down to breakfast. It was around ten and Penny had already collected Tippy for his own breakfast and walk.

  When I thanked her, she waved it off. “I’ve got extra time, Miss.”

  “Oh? Why’s that?”

  “Simon—Mr. Parlance—doesn’t want me cleaning his room. Keeps it locked and everything. Which means more time for this little guy.” She’d scrubbed Tippy’s head and his little nub of a tail wagged furiously as she led him from the room.

  I thought it was strange that Simon didn’t want his room cleaned, but then people were particular about things like that. Maybe he just didn’t want her seeing his under things or was afraid she’d break something.

  I was the only one at the table and helped myself to toast, strawberry jam, and coffee, ignoring the sausages, kippers, and other heavy foods. I honestly wasn’t used to eating much more than toast to start my day and was already feeling bloated from the rich food and overindulgence.

  “Message for you, Miss,” Johnson said, appearing by my side like a wraith.

  “You nearly gave me a heart attack!” I clutched my chest.

  “Apologies.” He didn’t sound at all apologetic as he laid an envelope next to my plate and strode away.

  The missive was from Jack. He wanted to meet in the Sullen Oyster at eleven. I glanced at my wristwatch. It was ten fifteen now. If I hurried, I could get dressed, collect Tippy, and head down to the village.

  I didn’t examine why I was so eager to see him, assuring myself it was simply professional. I just wanted to hear what he’d found out. That was it.

  And I might have a bridge in Arizona to sell you.

  Cramming toast in my mouth and downing the last swallow of coffee, I dashed up the stairs to my room. I figured my simple blue A-line skirt and white blouse were fine, so I threw my new pink raincoat over the top and grabbed my handbag. Good enough.

  Tippy was not best pleased to be dragged out for another walk. Especially as the gray gloom had turned into a veritable downpour. But I couldn’t leave him alone in the house, despite what he might wish, and I could use a guard dog. Not that a creature with two-inch-long legs was much protection, but strangely, he made me feel better.

  I was kind of having fun, tromping along in what Johnson had called “Wellies.” Rain boots to the rest of us. Perhaps it was a bit childlike, stomping in puddles, but it was a nice stress reliever, let me tell you.

  All the way down the hill, I pondered last night’s events. Or rather this morning’s events. Poor Raymond. Maybe he was the thief, but he certainly hadn’t deserved to die. But how interesting that he’d been killed in exactly the same way Lil had threatened on doing it. To my mind, that meant that either Lil had done exactly what she’d said she’d do—which would be incredibly stupid of her—or the killer had been in the room—or near enough to it—to overhear her threat and figured it was as good a way as any to get rid of poor Raymond while pinning it on someone else.

  Either way, it didn’t really clarify things. We’d all be in the room except for the servants and Alexander Malburn. Not that any of that meant anything. Any of the servants could have been hovering in the hall. I read enough books to know that happens. As for Malburn, well, until the police confirmed his alibi, I had to consider that he could have driven down a day early and snuck around.

  And then there was the fact that anyone who did hear Lil’s threat could have told someone else about it. Who and why was anyone’s guess, but it was a distinct possibility. Which meant that anyone in the house, and quite a few people outside of it, could be the killer.

  So not only had I not solved the robbery, exactly, I now had a murder on my hands.

  “I hear you found the thief,” Jack said without preamble when I took my seat in the corner booth at the Sullen Oyster. Tippy glared at me from outside the window, despite the fact he was under the overhang and not getting rained on at all.

  “What do you mean?”

  He passed me a half pint of ale. I had no idea why. It wasn’t even noon. But I supposed if we were going to take up a booth, we should buy something. What I could really use was more coffee, though I doubt I could find it in this place.

  “It’s all over the village. Raymond Frain was murdered last night, and they found jewelry on him which he’d stolen from one of the guests. It would appear the thief was caught.”

  “So it would appear,” I said dryly, twisting the glass in my hands. I didn’t take a drink. I loathe beer of any kind. And this kind in particular was malodorous. I didn’t know how he could drink it and at eleven in the morning. “Except that your gossip is wrong. The police didn’t find anything on him.”

  It was his turn to look confused. “Are you saying Frain wasn’t the thief?”

  “I’m saying it’s awfully convenient that the very night after a guest threatens to bash the thief over the head with a poker, Raymond Frain turns up dead, bashed over the head with a poker.” I gave him a quick rundown on what had happened.

  He sat back. “Bloody hell.”

  “You got that right.”

  “Do you think he was guilty? Frain?”

  “Well,” I twisted the glass some more, “he was at all five of the parties that were robbed, according to you.”

  “That’s right. My uncle confirmed it.”

  “And he was one of only three guests who were. The others being Mary Parlance and Toni.”

  “Toni is it?”

  I shrugged. “I like her. She’s given me lots of information on the other guests, both those at Lord Chasterly’s and those not.”

  He lifted a brow. “That still doesn’t mean she’s not involved.”

  “No, it doesn’t,” I admitted reluctantly. I hated to think of Toni as the bad guy. She was so charming, but I knew very well that charming people could do bad things. Before I met Sam, I’d once gone on a date with a very charming man. He’d stuck me with the bill. “Listen, I need you to find out for me Alexander Malburn’s location the last couple of days.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yes, seriously. The man arrived right after we discovered a dead body on the premises. If that isn’t suspicious, I don’t know what is.”
/>   He ran a hand through his hair. “That doesn’t mean anything. Maybe he’s telling the truth, and he just drove down this morning.”

  “And maybe he’s lying,” I countered.

  “How am I supposed to find out when he left London?”

  “I don’t know. Talk to his neighbors or something,” I said. “Surely they’d notice when he left. His car was in the drive. It’s a bright red Roadster. Not exactly quiet. If he really left London early this morning, they’d have heard it.”

  “Fine,” he grumbled. “I’ll head back today and see what I can find out. Meet me here tomorrow morning.”

  I glanced around. “I’d rather not. How about the cafe just down the street? It looks really nice. And there’s a sign that says they serve fresh scones. I’ve never had a scone.”

  He huffed. “Fine. Tomorrow. Ten.”

  “I’ll see you then. One more thing.”

  “Yes?”

  I winced. “The brooch you gave me is missing.”

  “I thought you said nothing was found on Frain.”

  “It wasn’t. Which means if he was the thief, he’s got an accomplice, and if he wasn’t...”

  “He’s being framed,” Jack said.

  “You’re being very calm about this,” I said nervously. “Why aren’t you more upset about your brooch?”

  “Because I have every confidence you’ll find it when you find the killer.”

  I swallowed. “But what if I don’t?”

  He gave me a look rife with meaning. “Then you’ll have to make it up to me.”

  I don’t know why, but I blushed scarlet and scurried out of the pub, away from prying eyes—and Jack—as quickly as I could. I rescued Tippy who was still giving me the cold shoulder for leaving him in the rain.

  I probably should have given Jack a piece of my mind for being so...shameless. On the other hand, just thinking about it made me giddy. However, I had a job to do and didn’t have time to moon over handsome men.

  I had a full day before I could discover if Alex was telling the truth about his alibi. In the meantime, I needed to find out everything I could about the other parties and guests and what had been stolen.