With Penelope, Stokes, and Richard, Barnaby walked into the cool shadows of the front hall of Patchcote Grange. The drawing room lay to their left; the double doors were cracked but not open, and a low murmur of conversation emanated from within.
A butler came hurrying from the depths of the house. “Good afternoon, gentlemen.” His demeanor distinctly solemn, he bowed. “Ma’am.”
Richard gestured to Stokes. “Gearing, this is Inspector Stokes of Scotland Yard. He’s in charge of the investigation, and Sir Henry has consigned the matter of finding your master’s murderer into the inspector’s capable hands.”
“Indeed, sir.” Gearing looked at Richard hopefully.
Richard obliged. “And these are Mr. and Mrs. Adair, who at the request of the Commissioner will be assisting the inspector in making his inquiries.”
“I see.” Judging by his expression, Gearing didn’t see at all but was too well-trained to say so.
“My men”—Stokes directed Gearing’s gaze to O’Donnell and Morgan, who had halted just inside the door and been joined by Walsh—“will be moving about the house and estate. It would help if you would notify the staff that it’s possible they might be questioned about the movement of people they might have noticed and that you and your mistress, who I understand has already given the investigation a free hand, have no reservations over the staff sharing whatever they might know.”
Gearing didn’t look delighted but inclined his head. “I’ll make that clear to the staff, sir.”
A rise in the babel coming from the drawing room had everyone glancing at the doors.
“Before we address the guests,” Stokes said, and Gearing’s relief was instantly visible, “could you confirm when this house party commenced?”
“Well,” Gearing said, “the family have been here for nearly two weeks, and the guests arrived yesterday—Sunday—from after lunch until just before dinner. Everyone was here before six o’clock.”
“And the party was to last until when?” Penelope asked.
“Until next Sunday, ma’am. The guests were due to leave after Sunday luncheon.”
“Thank you.” Stokes shut his notebook. “It will save time if we speak with everyone presently residing under this roof simultaneously. If you would gather the staff and have them join us in the drawing room, we’ll endeavor to keep the disruption as brief as we can.”
The last phrase was plainly music to Gearing’s ears. He bowed. “I’ll assemble the staff immediately.”
“Meanwhile”—Stokes turned to the drawing room—“we’ll introduce ourselves.”
With Richard, Penelope, and Stokes, Barnaby walked toward the drawing room.
As they reached the almost-shut doors, Richard held up a hand and whispered, “Give me a minute to slip inside.” He met Stokes’s eyes. “No reason to make a point of my connection to those investigating.”
Stokes nodded. “Good point.”
He, Barnaby, and Penelope stepped to the side of the doorway. While Richard slipped into the room, pushing the doors almost closed again, Stokes beckoned to his men. When they joined the group, in a low-voice, Stokes said, “I’m not yet sure what we need you to search for, but as we’re liable to be in the house for the next hour, you may as well scout out the surroundings. Look for anyone out and about—gardeners, field workers, and the like.”
“You might take that stake to the gardeners,” Barnaby suggested. “See if they can at least confirm it belongs on the estate.”
Morgan, who now held the stake, nodded.
With a tip of his head, Stokes sent the three on their way.
Then, Stokes met Barnaby’s and Penelope’s gazes. “Ready?”
Penelope arched her brows at Stokes. “Who gets to lead?”
Stokes grinned. “You do. This is more your arena than mine.” He tipped his head at Barnaby. “Or even his.”
Penelope tilted her head in regal acknowledgment and advanced on the double doors. She set them wide and swept inside, putting an abrupt end to every last conversation.
Clothes rustled as guests turned to look expectantly at the newcomers.
At the entirely unexpected newcomers. Surprise rippled through the crowd as several there recognized Penelope and Barnaby. Judging by the sudden hiatus that followed,recognition was swiftly superseded by recollection of their frequent successes in assisting Scotland Yard.
From the corner of his eye, Barnaby saw Richard standing by the windows with a group of male guests. Barnaby recognized the majority of the gentlemen present, although, unsurprisingly, he hadn’t previously encountered the younger men.
