Blood on the Banisters by Benedict Brown

Author:Benedict Brown
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Heathdene Books
Published: 2023-06-17T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-One

There was nothing I could do for Lord Ruskin and so I ran out to see what had caused the commotion. By the time I left the drawing room, Lovebrook was jumping down the stairs over the body and was about to enter the corridor into the Victorian wing of the house when he came to a sudden stop.

“What happened?” I called as I ran over.

“Someone was interfering with the Duchess’s body.” He was peering down the dim corridor as though he still hoped to spot the unidentified figure. “He must have taken a turn off here.”

“Or shot up the other staircase,” I suggested, and opened the first door off the corridor. “Quick, he may be hiding somewhere.”

We each took one side of the corridor and briefly searched a silver room, a smoking room and several small spaces reserved for the staff. There was no sign of whomever the inspector had seen, and so we came to the second staircase that led up to the main wing of bedrooms.

The inspector drew level with me but looked hesitant to go any further. “I don’t understand what good it would do anyone to meddle with the corpse at this stage. The police surgeon has come and gone. There are no secrets left to hide, bar whatever the coroner finds in the post-mortem.”

“Perhaps the killer didn’t know that,” I replied as I began the ascent. A thought occurred to me, and it seemed a little strange that my companion from the police had failed to identify the man. “What was he wearing?”

“A long black cloak that covered his head,” he explained. “I don’t mind telling you, Christopher, I am quite in the dark.” This seemed rather too apposite, considering the shadowy stairs we were navigating. “I originally thought the killer had to be one of the Fairfax boys. Soon after that, it seemed Ruskin was the obvious choice because of his connection to Lady Cassandra. Then I discovered that much of the evidence pointed towards your brother, but I was talking to him when someone came to rifle the poor Duchess’s pockets. It doesn’t make a jot of sense.”

“Unless the person on the stairs wasn’t the killer,” I replied, before realising that I’d just reopened a path to Albert’s guilt. “Or rather… I mean…”

We’d reached the top of the stairs and were walking along the corridor where we’d interviewed the Duke what now felt like many hours earlier. There were bedrooms on either side and a window at the far end through which the sunshine poured into the house. The inspector knocked on the first door and there was a grunt from inside.

He peeped in, then murmured, “My apologies, my lord,” as evidently the Duke was there, and he was unhappy with the intrusion. “It couldn’t be him,” the officer explained in a whisper. “Whoever I saw was a little more…” He searched for a term that would not inadvertently imply that Lord Hinwick was overweight. “…agile.”

I looked in the dead woman’s bedroom, but it was empty, and so I knocked on the next door along.

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