The panelled passageway was hung with watercolours of ships, and the harbour at Bristol, interspersed with polished brass nameplates. There was a binnacle beside the dining room door, complete with compass, with a brass ship’s bell mounted on a shelf above it. If I’d been asked to identify the theme of the décor I should definitely have plumped for “nautical”.
The door was ajar and I slipped quietly inside and looked around. The room was large, high-ceilinged and decorated in fashionably pale shades of blue. Around the wall were more items of nautical memorabilia: polished portholes; another bell, this one slightly dented; framed bills of lading; an intriguingly asymmetrical display of blocks and lines from a ship’s rigging; more paintings of ships; and there, in pride of place above the fireplace, a large portrait in oils of Mrs Seddon in regal pose.
The dining table was large enough to seat ten but there were only five for lunch. Mr Seddon sat at the head of the table with his wife to his right. Lady Hardcastle sat opposite her, with a portly, red-faced gentleman I didn’t recognize to her left and a similarly plump lady that I presumed was his own wife opposite him. Mary, the housemaid, was pouring tea. Their lunch, the remains of which were piled on the sideboard, appeared to have been a more modest version of the one I had just enjoyed. I smiled.
‘Ah, Armstrong,’ said Lady Hardcastle beckoning me over. ‘Thank you so much.’
I gave her the aspirins and she swallowed them down. She thanked me again and waved me away but instead of leaving, I made full use of the mystical powers of invisibility possessed by all household servants and slipped unnoticed to the corner of the room.
‘You poor thing,’ said Mrs Seddon. ‘Are they for nerves? It must be the shock of talking about that terrible business.’
Mrs Seddon was in her early 30s, I judged, slim of figure and blonde of hair. Pretty, I thought, but not truly beautiful, while her clothes were on the gaudy side of elegant, but undoubtedly expensive.
She spoke again. ‘We were simply horrified to hear of his death,’ she said. ‘How much more awful it must have been to actually find his... body. Was it suicide do they think?’
Her accent was hard to pin down. She seemed to be trying hard to sound like a lady, but traces of her Bristol accent poked through the veneer, making her sound like a music hall artist playing a lady for a satirical skit.
‘That’s certainly how it was intended to appear,’ said Lady Hardcastle, ‘but the police weren’t convinced. They’ve arrested a local man for the murder.’
‘Murder? Did you know about this, James?’ she asked her husband sharply before turning back to Lady Hardcastle. ‘He used to work for James, you know,’ she explained.
‘I... er... yes, my dear. I think I heard something about it,’ he stammered, nervously.
‘You never said anything.’ Her tone was distinctly icy by now.
‘I... I... didn’t want to vex you unduly, my sweet. Nasty business. Nasty.’
Mr Seddon might have been the senior partner of a successful shipping agency, but it was becoming clear who was the senior partner in the Seddon household.
‘Don’t want to speak ill of a chap when he’s lying on the slab at the mortuary and all that,’ said the red-faced man, slightly drunkenly, ‘but it’s dashed inconvenient his dying like that. Left us in the lurch, what?’
‘Oh, Percy, don’t,’ said the unknown lady. ‘You speak as though he got himself murdered on purpose.’
‘Unless he was the victim of a lunatic, m’dear,’ he said, ‘he must have upset someone. Could say he brought it on himself, what?’
‘No, one couldn’t,’ she replied, sternly. ‘And I think you’ve had altogether quite enough to drink.’
There was an embarrassed silence during which everyone but the red-faced man sipped at their tea; he mutinously carried on with his wine. The silence dragged on for almost a minute before Mrs Seddon said, ‘Oh, my dear Lady Hardcastle, you do look quite ill. Are you sure you’re all right? Should I call a doctor?’
Lady Hardcastle looked absolutely fine to me, but it was an elegant way of giving her a reason to excuse herself early. She took it. ‘Thank you, Mrs Seddon, I’m sure I’ll be fine. But might I impose upon your generosity a little further and ask your chauffeur to drive me home?’
‘Of course you may, of course,’ said Mrs Seddon with barely concealed relief. ‘Mary, please go back to the kitchen and tell Daniel to ready the Rolls. You can clear this up later.’
‘Yes, ma’am,’ said Mary and made for the door.
As unobtrusively as I could, I followed her out and we walked to the kitchen together. As soon as I thought we were safely out of earshot, I said, ‘That all got a bit frosty.’
‘It had been heading that way for some time, miss, that’s why your mistress sent for you, I reckon; wanted to get out of there. The missus don’t like being shown up, see, and what with the other Mr Seddon being a little tipsy and him and our Mr Seddon joking about, then all that talk of Mr Pickering, our Mrs S was just about ready to knock some heads together. There’s going to be skin and hair flying when the guests have all gone, I’d put money on it.’
By now we were back in the kitchen and Mary indicated to James that he was required.
‘Do they fight often?’ I asked as I put on my hat and gloves.
Mrs Birch laughed. ‘Now “fight”, dear, that’s a tricky word. See, for a fight you needs two, and their fights is a bit one-sided. She screams and shouts and throws things and he stands there meekly and takes it.’
‘Crikey,’ I said. ‘Well, I hope we’ve not made your lives any worse by our coming. Thank you so very much for your hospitality, that was quite the most enjoyable lunch I’ve ever had.’
‘It was our pleasure, miss,’ said Langdon. ‘And I hope we have the pleasure of your company again soon.’
Everyone gathered round to shake my hand and I followed Daniel out of the back door and round to the car. I sat inside while he started the engine then he rang the front doorbell to let them know that the car was ready.
Mr Seddon showed Lady Hardcastle to the door and shook her hand as they said their goodbyes before Daniel assisted her into the car.
‘That, my dear Armstrong, was quite a luncheon,’ she said as we drove off.
‘Mine was rather splendid, too,’ I said with a smile.
‘You’ll have to tell me all about it when we get home. But for now, Daniel, please tell me all about your magnificent motor car. I really must get one of these for myself.’
Daniel puffed with pride as he described the car and all its many features and we were home before we knew it.
‘Well, pet,’ said Lady Hardcastle as we took off our hats and gloves in the the hall, ‘That was... bracing.’
‘An unusual experience, to be sure,’ I said.