He was surprised when Ben answered him.

“Oh, I don’t know about that, sir!” The tone was heavy with suggestion. “She wasn’t lacking a shoulder to cry on.”

“What do you mean?”

Ben took a step closer and flicked a glance to check that the door was closed. He listened for movement in the house. A show of “resident sleuth” put on for Joe’s benefit? Joe didn’t doubt it but he was not about to challenge for the role. He waited, as he was meant to.

“I mean as she had company.”

“Company?” Joe’s thoughts skittered for a moment and then he had it. “Oh! A lady’s maid? Was she allocated one such from the resident staff to help her with her unpacking?”

“Nothing like that. She turned Rosie down and shifted for herself … Naw! She had a man in here. I clocked him creeping along the corridor at half past one.” He paused to assess Joe’s reaction.

“At one thirty in the morning? I’ve scanned the guest list, Ben. Now who, of that gouty unadventurous company, would be shuffling along the corridors in his bedroom slippers at that hour?”

Ben gave a scoffing laugh, enjoying the picture Joe was conjuring up. “No slippers! He was still in evening dress! I followed him to see what was going on. ‘Hang on!’ I thought, ‘He’s drunk as a skunk! He’s taken a wrong turning!’ Of course he wasn’t and he hadn’t. Knew very well where he was going. Passed all the other guest rooms and fetched up here. I think he was expected.”

Trying for a calm tone, Joe asked: “Why do you say that?”

“The door wasn’t locked! He didn’t even need to knock. Just opened it and walked straight in.”

“Go on.”

“Well, words or something must have been exchanged because seconds later, out he comes again with the door closed in his face. Quiet but firm.”

Joe began to breathe again.

“Well—he weren’t havin’ none o’ that! He bangs on the door this time and calls out her name, all upset and pleading like …‘Dorcas, you have to let me in!’ ‘Lord!’ I thought, ‘He’s going to rouse the whole house!’

“With any effect?”

“I’ll say! The lass opened up, shushing him, then she reached out, cussed something fierce, grabbed him by the shoulders and heaved him inside. Then she—or he—locked the door.” Ben grinned and confided, “No idea what she did with him after that. Perhaps they had a game of Snakes and Ladders? Anyway—he didn’t come back past my station for the rest of the night. When Grace started moving about before dawn waking up her ladyship I didn’t know what to do. I thought I’d better follow the mistress like I’d been told.” Ben’s face took on a sharp expression. “But I’ll tell you what—if there’s any question about the death being set up—I can tell anyone who needs to know that Miss Dorcas has got a perfect alibi.” He glowered defiantly at Joe. “If anyone tried to drag that poor young gel into it, I’d have to spill the beans. Position or no position.”

The bold words off his chest, he grinned lasciviously. “Miss Joliffe and young master Alex were in here together all night alibiing each other.”

CHAPTER 17

“Never kill the messenger” was a reasonable rule of conduct, Joe had always thought. But perhaps he could just punch him on his cocky little nose? He clasped his hands behind his back and walked to the window overlooking the courtyard. He stared out into a dark, desolate space, out of focus and alien, a reflection of his soul. Would thumping Ben stop Joe from falling deeper into the depth below him? Joe whirled around, clenching his fists. He rather thought it would.

“Sir! Are you all right? Did I say something? I’m sorry if I did. Squealing like that … perhaps I should never … but Lady Cecily said it would be all right—I should tell you what I knew. And I wouldn’t want someone who can’t answer back to catch it for something she didn’t do. They’ll put the blame on the weakest. It’s always their way.”

It wasn’t Joe’s way. The footman’s words punctured his swelling rage and gave him back some sort of control over his emotions. He said coldly, the policeman’s reasoning taking over, “Have you thought, Ben, that on this occasion, the family might be only too grateful to accept Miss Joliffe’s story? If push came to shove and they all had to come clean, that is. If she’s in the clear, so is Alexander. As you said—they supply each other with an alibi for the hours before and the time of Lady Truelove’s death. Though, of course, chivalry would always reduce a gentleman to silence. He would never give away a lady’s secret, even when he’s standing in the dock at the Old Bailey and the hangman is knotting his noose. He—they—are never going to reveal their situation to an official police enquiry.”

“That’s why they’ve sent for you, sir. Friend of Sir James and Lady Cecily, you can work it all out discreetly. No need for red faces, eh?”

Joe knew that if he were to get at the truth it would have to be extracted from the most skilled liar he had ever come across—Dorcas herself.

“Ben, did you report the, er, midnight wanderings to Lady Cecily?”

Ben hung his head. “Should ’a done, shouldn’t I? Trouble if I did and trouble if I didn’t, I reckon …”

“Ben, you are in no way to blame. You were put into a bad situation. If trouble there’s been—the fault lies with others. Well—did you?” he insisted.

“No, I kept my mouth shut. I told her everything up to Miss Dorcas turning in for the night. Thing is—Master Alex is in a spot of bother at the moment.” He hesitated.

“I’m aware of the young master’s problems.”

“Ah. Well … I wouldn’t want to get him into worse trouble. None of us would. He’s all right is Master Alex. Never any trouble to the female staff, unlike some. Us indoors—we’ve always covered for him. Don’t like to see a bloke get picked on, even when it’s his own doing it.”

“And his mother’s his most demanding critic?”

“Always! Especially since he came back from London this time. She’s got him on a tight rein and I didn’t want to say something she’d not want to hear and that would get him into further trouble. As well as doing the girl no good—her reputation would have been shot to pieces. If I’d spoken out that would have been a headache for four people.”

“And you wouldn’t want to be known as the spreader of gossip?”

“You’ve said it! We’re supposed to keep quiet about what we see and hear.” Ben’s eyes gleamed suggestively. “People wander about in the night, like I told you. Sometimes they need a guiding hand back to their own billet. Unless we want our ears torn off by Mrs. Bolton, we say nothing. Well, over a ciggie round the back of the dairy, having a laugh with the other lads, that’s different.”

Joe strained to keep his focus on the job in hand when all he wanted to do was flee back to London, pursue Dorcas to Highgate or wherever she was hiding out and wring the truth from her. Professional routine rescued him from rash action. He remembered Cecily’s interrupted assertion that her son James had an alibi for the night of Lavinia’s death and decided to follow it up. “Lady Cecily claims that James has a cast-iron alibi for the time in question. Can you confirm …?”

“Oh, yes, sir. When the house was settled and everyone in their rooms I escorted her ladyship down to the drawbridge—I always see her back safely over to her own place. That’s the Dower House. About a hundred yards away down the drive. They leave the bridge up till I get back. We were just going over the bridge when Sir James comes haring up all of a lather. ‘Don’t you worry, Ben,’ he says, ‘I’ll see Mama home. Tell them they can put the bridge up now. I’ll be at the Dower House for the night.”

He anticipated Joe’s question. “Nothing out of the ordinary. Her Ladyship has a nice little guest suite of her own and Sir James does occasionally … um …”

“Seek refuge?”

“Run to his mum’s! He didn’t come back until they rang with the bad news to fetch him back over.”