“Now, why would you think that?” Barnabas demanded impatiently. “We could all be dead by morning.”
Myles turned a wintry look on his father that made Barnabas take a wary step back. Myles’ normally handsome features had turned so cold and hard they held a hint of ruthless menace that was frightening. For a brief moment, Barnabas wondered if Myles was the killer, but immediately dismissed it, and felt guilty for having doubted his own son. He knew that Myles would never do something so heinous as to kill his uncle. It just wasn’t in Myles’ nature. However, it was obvious to anybody with eyes in their head that Marcus was fiercely angry, and apt to do anything if he came face-to-face with the murderer.
“We need to make sure the culprit is brought to justice, Myles. We cannot take the law into our own hands. I think it would be best if we restrict everybody’s movements for now. Nobody goes anywhere alone,” Barnabas cautioned.
Myles nodded and forced himself to relax. “I think we need to speak with the staff one by one. Then we need to gather the family in the study. It is important we find out what everybody has done this morning, and where they.”
“Then what? I mean, what if we find out who the killer is?”
“We will have to lock them in the cellar until the weather clears. One thing is for definite; we cannot allow them to stalk the corridors and kill again, can we?” Myles pushed to his feet and crossed the room to stand beside the door.
“Let’s put Gerald’s body on the bed for now,” Barnabas sighed. “I will send Cranbury up with the footmen.”
With everyone’s agreement, they moved the body and left the room.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Estelle struggled to hide her impatience and curiosity as she waited in the sitting room for Myles to reappear. This was the most she had been apart from him since he had appeared for breakfast many hours ago. Now that he was gone she felt vulnerable, confused, and very, very, afraid. While she had no reason to suspect that someone wanted her dead, there was still a killer in the house and so she had to consider that she was just as vulnerable as everyone else.
It was difficult not to pace. She tried to settle her mind to something more mundane to while away the time while Barnabas and Myles were questioning the servants but was too restless to sew, and couldn’t sit still long enough to read.
“How long do you think they will be?” she whispered for the tenth time in the past hour.
Beatrice snorted. “Why? Are you worried they will find something out that you want to remain hidden?”
“No, why would I?” Estelle replied. “I don’t have anything to hide. I am just curious to know if they have found any clues yet.” When Beatrice didn’t answer her, Estelle sighed. “Aren’t you worried that there is a killer in the house?”
Beatrice peered at her over the top of her book. “No. Why, should I be worried?”
“Well, you were called here as well,” Estelle replied. “There must be a reason why everyone has been summoned to the house like this.”
“I am sure we will find out in good time. Until then, worrying is not going to do us any good, is it?” There was an air of casual dismissal about Beatrice that made Estelle want to shake some life into her. It was as though she considered this all a boring game.
Maybe she knows she isn’t a target. Estelle quickly closed that thought out and turned away. In spite of her best intentions not to, she began to pace. The thought of having spent the better part of the evening with a cold-blooded murderer made her feel a little sick, and left her with an edgy feeling that rendered her unable to rest.
“I wouldn’t worry about it,” Beatrice advised. “In this house strange is normal.”
Estelle opened her mouth to argue but, before she could speak the door opened. Her heart leapt as she turned toward it. She anticipated Myles making an appearance, and couldn’t hide her disappointment when a rather withered lady in her late sixties shuffled into the room.
“Ah, Eva,” Isaac called. “Good day to you.”
“She won’t hear you,” Beatrice snorted. “She is stone deaf. Aren’t you Eva?”
Beatrice looked over her shoulder at the elderly woman now shuffling painfully across the room. The woman didn’t even look her way. For all intents and purposes, Eva didn’t even notice they were in the room.
“Just ignore her. Someone will tell her when it is time to eat,” Beatrice advised.
“I didn’t realise anybody else lived in the house,” Estelle replied, a little stunned when the woman threw herself tiredly into a chair in the far corner of the room, dug about in her carpet bag, and squinted down at her sewing ring. “Who else is in the house?”
Isaac sat on the chaise beside the fire. “Well, here is Eva, of course. She is an elderly relation of some sort-”
“Isaac,” Beatrice sighed. “She is Barnabas’ second cousin or something. Nobody can be entirely certain, but she is as old as Croesus, half-blind, deaf, and lives here gratis because she has no money. With no wealth, the alternative was a poor house. Barnabas wouldn’t hear of it, so he allowed her to move in here.”
“She has been here for about three or four years, now,” Isaac finished for her.
Beatrice sighed. “If you want to speak to her you are going to have to stand directly in front of her and shout. But I warn you now, if she starts to twitter on about her hobbies you will never shut her up. So, venture over there at your peril.”
Estelle remained where she was, a little disappointed at their scorn toward the elderly woman while in her presence. She felt rather sorry for the spinster, especially given her circumstances were not so dissimilar to her own.