By the time Gearing arrived, they’d arranged themselves in their now-customary armchairs. He half bowed to them, then looked at Penelope. “Yes, ma’am?”
“We realize,” Penelope said, “that on Monday morning, the staff would have been in something of a tizzy, but do you recall picking up any letters that had been left on the hall table?”
Gearing looked relieved. “Why, yes, ma’am. On that morning, there were three letters left on the salver for me to post. All were from Mr. Percival. One was addressed to Viscount Seddington, who I believe is Mr. Percival’s ward.”
Penelope smiled. “That’s correct. Now, has the Earl of Leith left any letters for you to post?”
“No, ma’am.” Then Gearing amended, “Not as yet.”
Penelope widened her eyes. “Perhaps he hasn’t brought them down yet. Do you know if he’s been writing letters in his room?”
Gearing hesitated, then no doubt remembering his mistress’s instructions to render all assistance possible to them, he offered, “I could ask the maid who tidies his room if there are any letters there, perhaps unfinished or yet to be addressed?”
“Thank you, Gearing.” Penelope inclined her head. “That would be helpful.”
Stokes clarified, “Whether just started, half finished, or even discarded. We’d like to know if there’s any evidence of letter writing in Leith’s room.”
Gearing bowed. “I’ll find Gemma—the maid who tends those rooms—and ask and return with her answer.”
Barnaby nodded. “Please do.”
Gearing bowed again and departed.
After the door closed, Stokes stated, “That’s our second question in hand, and Percival is looking less and less suspicious.”
“Which of our questions should we tackle next?” Barnaby asked.
Stokes considered the list in his notebook. “It’ll be faster if we split up, and”—he glanced up and met Barnaby’s and Penelope’s gazes—“I’m getting that itching between my shoulder blades that insists time is of the essence.”
Barnaby grimaced. “You, too?”
Grimly, Stokes nodded. “Let’s get this last round of questioning done as quickly and efficiently as possible. Questions three and four need to be directed to the staff, both indoor and outdoor. I’ll take O’Donnell and speak with the indoor staff about whether anyone noticed Leith, Cordingley, or Percival outside the house or near the study immediately after the alarm was raised, and also whether they spotted any of those three upstairs on Tuesday evening before or after nine o’clock. Meanwhile, I’ll have Morgan ask the gardeners if any of them saw Leith, Cordingley, or Percival outside the house before the murder or around the time Miss Hemmings screamed. With luck, someone will have spotted our mystery gentleman and have some clue who he is.”
Penelope looked at Barnaby. “That leaves you and me to put our questions to the gentlemen of the company. First, did those in the library on Monday morning when Monty came in see him approach the vase?”
Barnaby rose. “And our second question for the gentlemen is who was where on Tuesday evening at nine o’clock.”
Penelope and Stokes got to their feet.
With determination etched in every line of his face, Stokes stated, “If we can get clear and unequivocal answers to those questions, we’ll know the identity of Underhill’s killer.”
Despite being driven by the same determination infecting Stokes, Barnaby and Penelope made first for the morning room.
They walked in, and Barnaby swiftly scanned the occupants. Ensconced in armchairs in the middle of the room were Pamela, Susan, Percival’s aunts, Lady Wincombe, Mrs. Hemmings, and Lady Carville. Of the older ladies and matrons, only Mrs. Waterhouse was absent, although an empty chair suggested she was expected.
To say that Barnaby and Penelope’s arrival was greeted with interest would have been a gross understatement. Conversations cut off mid-sentence, and every eye instantly fixed on them, while the expressions trained on them ranged from the faintly concerned to the avidly expectant.
Penelope smiled winningly. “We have a few last questions we would like to pose in the hope that, as a group, you might be able to shed some light.”
Lady Campbell-Carstairs gestured expansively. “Ask away, my dear. We’re agog to see you in action.”
Penelope’s smile only brightened. “Our primary question concerns what the company did on Tuesday evening.”
The ladies looked puzzled; plainly, news of the attack on Grimshaw hadn’t percolated to their ears. Mystified as to why they were being questioned about Tuesday evening, they glanced at one another, then Lady Kelly clarified, “Tuesday evening—the second evening after the sad event?”
“Exactly,” Penelope confirmed.
“Oh, well…” Lady Kelly glanced around the circle. On receiving encouraging nods from all, she returned her gaze to Penelope. “We retired early, all of us.”
