glanced at Julian, one eyebrow flicking up, and Julian shook his head minutely. No, he didn’t have any more questions.
“I’m afraid we’ll have to go through this in detail again,” Ned said. “And then I’ll want to take a look at the study, to be sure there aren’t any small lingering enchantments.”
“The police did that, too,” Victor said.
“If you were content with the work of the police, you wouldn’t have hired me,” Ned said, and somehow contrived to keep his tone pleasant.
Victor blew out his cheeks. “No, very true. All right. Where do you want to start?”
“I’d rather not keep Mrs Nevett waiting,” Ned said. “And, Lynes – you’ll talk to the servants?”
“Yes,” Julian said, gratefully.
“I’ll ring for Larkin, then,” Victor said. “And if you’ll come with me, Mathey?”
0707201316911
CHAPTER FOUR
Larkin proved to be the butler, younger than Julian would have expected, with a precisely trimmed beard and a flat, expressionless face. The latter was a requirement for the position, of course, particularly since he was young for it, and Julian watched him carefully as he explained that he and Mr Mathey had been hired to supplement the police investigation, and that he required time and place to interview the rest of the staff. Larkin nodded gravely, only his eyes narrowing for a fraction of a second, and led Julian down the back stairs to the kitchen.
“Miller is with Mrs Nevett, I believe,” he said, over his shoulder, “but I will send Sarah to fetch the others.”
“Miller is Mrs Nevett’s maid?” Julian asked, and Larkin inclined his head.
“Yes, sir.”
They had reached the kitchen, enormous and cheerful, a stone-floored, low-ceilinged room that stretched the width of the house, from the entry on the crescent to the back garden. Heavy pillars divided the space, holding up the arches that supported the house, and the cook turned sharply from her range, her words dying unspoken as she saw the strangers. The kitchenmaid, who couldn’t have been more than twelve, yelped and dropped her paring knife, and the cook cuffed her gently.
“Not more police, Mr Larkin.”
She knew perfectly well he wasn’t police, Julian thought, from the cut of his suit if nothing else, and he felt a surge of renewed confidence. He had grown up in a house like this, had first learned to read secrets among his great-uncle’s staff. He knew far more about the ways of life belowstairs than they would expect, and he could use that to his advantage.
“No, Mrs Rule.” Larkin’s voice was delicately reproving. “Mr Victor has hired Mr Lynes – and Mr Mathey, whom you have not met – to assist the police. He is wishful to speak with the staff.”
“When I have tea to make, and then dinner?” Mrs Rule protested.
“It shouldn’t take long,” Julian said. “Nor will I keep your helpers any longer than I have to.” He glanced over his shoulder. The back door opened into a narrow, stone-walled garden, not likely to be overlooked or, if voices were kept low, to be overheard. There would be a bench or a seat there, he knew, as well as the herb and flower beds. “Larkin, I’ll talk to your people outside, please, singly, in whatever order is most convenient for the house. And then if I might have a word with you – in your pantry?”
Larkin nodded. “Very good, Mr Lynes. I believe – yes, I’ll send Sarah first. The underhousemaid. And then Miller and Jane Pugh should be free of their duties.”
“Thank you,” Julian said, and stepped out into the garden. It was exactly as he had expected, a long paved area surrounded on three sides by solid brick walls – seven feet high and topped with broken glass, though he doubted there were many attempts at entry from the gardens to either side. The back gate looked solid, with a modern enchanted lock, and a heavy bar leaned against the wall beside it. The brackets were new, however, and he made a mental note to
“I’m afraid we’ll have to go through this in detail again,” Ned said. “And then I’ll want to take a look at the study, to be sure there aren’t any small lingering enchantments.”
“The police did that, too,” Victor said.
“If you were content with the work of the police, you wouldn’t have hired me,” Ned said, and somehow contrived to keep his tone pleasant.
Victor blew out his cheeks. “No, very true. All right. Where do you want to start?”
“I’d rather not keep Mrs Nevett waiting,” Ned said. “And, Lynes – you’ll talk to the servants?”
“Yes,” Julian said, gratefully.
“I’ll ring for Larkin, then,” Victor said. “And if you’ll come with me, Mathey?”
0707201316911
CHAPTER FOUR
Larkin proved to be the butler, younger than Julian would have expected, with a precisely trimmed beard and a flat, expressionless face. The latter was a requirement for the position, of course, particularly since he was young for it, and Julian watched him carefully as he explained that he and Mr Mathey had been hired to supplement the police investigation, and that he required time and place to interview the rest of the staff. Larkin nodded gravely, only his eyes narrowing for a fraction of a second, and led Julian down the back stairs to the kitchen.
“Miller is with Mrs Nevett, I believe,” he said, over his shoulder, “but I will send Sarah to fetch the others.”
“Miller is Mrs Nevett’s maid?” Julian asked, and Larkin inclined his head.
“Yes, sir.”
They had reached the kitchen, enormous and cheerful, a stone-floored, low-ceilinged room that stretched the width of the house, from the entry on the crescent to the back garden. Heavy pillars divided the space, holding up the arches that supported the house, and the cook turned sharply from her range, her words dying unspoken as she saw the strangers. The kitchenmaid, who couldn’t have been more than twelve, yelped and dropped her paring knife, and the cook cuffed her gently.
“Not more police, Mr Larkin.”
She knew perfectly well he wasn’t police, Julian thought, from the cut of his suit if nothing else, and he felt a surge of renewed confidence. He had grown up in a house like this, had first learned to read secrets among his great-uncle’s staff. He knew far more about the ways of life belowstairs than they would expect, and he could use that to his advantage.
“No, Mrs Rule.” Larkin’s voice was delicately reproving. “Mr Victor has hired Mr Lynes – and Mr Mathey, whom you have not met – to assist the police. He is wishful to speak with the staff.”
“When I have tea to make, and then dinner?” Mrs Rule protested.
“It shouldn’t take long,” Julian said. “Nor will I keep your helpers any longer than I have to.” He glanced over his shoulder. The back door opened into a narrow, stone-walled garden, not likely to be overlooked or, if voices were kept low, to be overheard. There would be a bench or a seat there, he knew, as well as the herb and flower beds. “Larkin, I’ll talk to your people outside, please, singly, in whatever order is most convenient for the house. And then if I might have a word with you – in your pantry?”
Larkin nodded. “Very good, Mr Lynes. I believe – yes, I’ll send Sarah first. The underhousemaid. And then Miller and Jane Pugh should be free of their duties.”
“Thank you,” Julian said, and stepped out into the garden. It was exactly as he had expected, a long paved area surrounded on three sides by solid brick walls – seven feet high and topped with broken glass, though he doubted there were many attempts at entry from the gardens to either side. The back gate looked solid, with a modern enchanted lock, and a heavy bar leaned against the wall beside it. The brackets were new, however, and he made a mental note to
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