Death at Wentwater Court by Carola Dunn Page A

in the house would have found somewhere inconspicuous to meet him indoors.”
    â€œUnless it was a moonlight tryst, a romantic skating party for two.”
    Daisy didn’t care for that line of thinking. “It was far too cold to be romantic, and … Wait, he wouldn’t have walked down there with
skates on in the morning, either. What happened to his ordinary boots?”
    â€œNow that is a very good …” Alec paused as the door opened. “Ah, Lord Beddowe.”
    â€œWhat’s all this about?” the young man demanded aggressively. “I’ve told you all I know.”
    â€œI find further enquiries are necessary. Lord Wentwater was good enough to assure me of his family’s cooperation.”
    â€œOh, very well.” Crossing the room towards the sofa Alec indicated, he suddenly stopped. “What the deuce are you doing in here, Daisy?”
    She had slipped back to her window-seat. With a reproachful glance at Beddowe, she picked up her pad and pencil, leaving Alec to answer.
    â€œMiss Dalrymple is my stenographer.”
    â€œYou can’t expect me to answer your bally questions in the presence of a young lady.”
    â€œI admit that it is somewhat irregular. If you strongly object, we can go to the local police station to find an officer able to take down your statement.”
    â€œGood Lord, no! I suppose a Chief Inspector considers himself too important to take shorthand,” he sneered.
    â€œYou need not write that down, Miss Dalrymple,” Alec said dispassionately.
    Beddowe noticed her shocked stare and had the grace to look a little ashamed of himself. Taunting one’s inferiors was not part of the code of a gentleman. He didn’t apologize, however, and he showed no sign of shame when he started talking about Astwick and his stepmother.
    â€œIt’s too obvious for words,” he said contemptuously. “Like a cheap, sordid melodrama. They were lovers in Italy, and then my father comes along, a wealthy peer infatuated enough to offer marriage, and she drops Astwick like a hot coal. Here she is, living on
velvet, when who turns up but her lover, threatening to reveal all and wreck the cosy nest if she doesn’t jump back into bed with him.”
    â€œHave you evidence that Astwick and Lady Wentwater were lovers?” Alec regretted that Miss Dalrymple had to hear such an outpouring of venom. Like the others, Beddowe appeared to have forgotten her presence.
    â€œNot exactly evidence, but anyone could tell he had a hold over her, knew some nasty secret from her past. She had every reason to get rid of the bounder.”
    Alec couldn’t resist a dig. “Naturally, for your father’s sake, you did all you could to prevent Astwick’s persecution of your stepmother.”
    â€œProtect that scheming adventuress, after she wheedled her way into my father’s confidence! Of course, I’m sorry he’s going to be disillusioned, but divorce isn’t such a ghastly business nowadays, is it? As the guilty party, she wouldn’t get a penny out of him. Oh yes, she hadn’t much choice but to dispose of Astwick.”
    He seemed prepared to carry on endlessly in a similar vein. Alec stopped him with a question about Astwick’s boots.
    â€œBoots? I haven’t the foggiest. They must have been by the bench at the bottom of the path, where we sit down to change, but I can’t say I noticed them. I was carrying my own skating boots, and Miss Petrie’s and Miss Dalrymple’s.”
    â€œWho carried everything back up to the house?”
    â€œI told the under-gardeners who moved the body to the boathouse to clear everything up. I suppose they put away the boathook and gaff and brought the rest back to the house. I wouldn’t put it past them to swipe Astwick’s boots. After all, he didn’t need them any longer.”
    Much as he disliked Beddowe’s attitude towards his servants,