The Dead Songbird (The Northminster Mysteries) by Harriet Smart Page A

upset by it?” he asked.
    “No, it was a great display of courage on her part. It was Mrs Ridolfi who was hysterical,” said Carswell.
    “She seems a nervous individual,” Giles said. “No doubt the author of this prank imagines Mrs Morgan will be easily scared. Someone who does not know her, perhaps? My impression of her is someone who has a steady nerve.”
    “Yes, indeed,” said Carswell.
    “The same with the letters. She has great mastery over herself. Other women would have been reduced to terror after such a campaign. Yet a dead bird – a dead bird is a commonplace enough thing. Not in itself terrifying, unless you are Mrs Ridolfi.”
    “It was a songbird,” Carswell said. “A strangled songbird. Just like Charlie Barnes.”
    “There is no evidence that the two events are related,” Giles said.
    “But it is curious. Perhaps whoever dispatched Barnes is giving Mrs Morgan a warning? If you don’t watch yourself you will find yourself in the same condition.”
    “Not necessarily the killer – but possibly they had knowledge of it. But then, how do we even know that bird was put there to scare Mrs Morgan, who is not afraid of dead birds? There is one person in that house frightened of dead birds – Mrs Ridolfi. You saw it for yourself. Perhaps the person who put it there knew that.”
    “But for what possible reason?”
    “A servant with a grudge? You noticed she complained about the staff that were in the house. Perhaps she has made one of them angry. That would seem to make a great deal of sense.”
    “But it is so specific – a bird with a ribbon ligature.”
    “There is probably gossip going around already about the manner of Barnes’ death – this person may be acting on that. Hoping to give one – or both of the occupants of that room a good scare. We cannot say which one in particular.”
    “But surely those letters prejudice it in favour of being a warning to Mrs Morgan?”
    “It is one thing to write spiteful letters and post them but another to enter a house and leave a dead bird on someone’s pillow. That requires a bit of nerve, something writers of anonymous letters rarely display. I am not convinced these incidents are related. The person who left the bird knows all about the routine and the composition of the household – which points to an insider. But the letters may be from anyone. The dead bird will be a far easier nut to crack, so to speak, than those wretched letters.”
    “So how will you do it?”
    “I shall send Superintendent Rollins to put the fear of God into the servants. He will get to the bottom of the situation.”
    “You will not interview them yourself? Surely...”
    “We have a murder investigation, Mr Carswell, that must take priority. Mrs Morgan will understand,” he added.

Chapter Fifteen
    “So why are we calling here?” said Felix as they stood at the door of an elegant modern villa on the outskirts of Northminster.
    “Mr Geoffrey hosted a supper party which Barnes attended the night before he died,” Major Vernon explained.
    A liveried manservant opened the door to them and said, “The master is indisposed this morning.”
    “Go up and tell him that Mr Carswell is here,” said Major Vernon. “And that he puts himself at your master’s disposal.” When the servant had gone, he added, “He’s bound to want to see you. He has a reputation as a professional invalid.”
    “What on earth shall I say to him?”
    “Just find out what you can about that party and what happened.” Felix frowned, not at all certain he had Major Vernon’s skill as an interviewer. “Don’t worry – you can send him a large bill at the end of it. You do need to build your practice after all.”
    “And what will you do?”
    “This time I am going to talk to the servants.”
    The servant returned a few moments later and informed them that Mr Geoffrey would see Mr Carswell.
    Felix was shown into a bedchamber of staggering opulence. It had apparently been