Still more.
III. The Boring Middle Part
A significant period of time passed, during which Artemis was dispatched to find her cousin. Despite her grief Lady Stout had assembled her guests in the solarium, where she had called for tea, feeling that everyone’s nerves were in need of a stimulant. Major Crag and the young St. George-Fotheringale took the general idea a bit further, feeling that the tea too was in need of something extra, and as a result the spirits of both were a slightly more elevated than the situation warranted.
Mrs. Vanderhoeven went to condole with Lady Stout, who blinked back tears as she bravely handed her a cup of tea. “There, there, dear,” said Mrs. Vanderhoeven. “I’m so proud of you, bearing up as you have. I can’t tell you how sorry Julius and I are. I just hope you’ll let us know if we can do anything for you, anything at all.”
“Oh, thank you so much. It means so much to me to have friends like you at a time like this. Especially…considering Julius.”
Mrs. Vanderhoeven nearly spilled her tea into her lap. “Why, what do you mean?”
“Oh, don’t worry, dear. I didn’t tell the Detective-Inspector anything, anything at all.”
“Well, I just don’t know what you mean.”
Lady Stout gently took the teacup from Mrs. Vanderhoeven’s shaking hands, and set it in its saucer on the table. “Don’t you, dear?” she asked.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the room, Julius had joined the other men, and the three discreetly passed Major Crag’s flask, from which they supplemented their tea.
“Thanks, Crag. I needed this. I’m not exactly used to being interrogated by the police. And that fellow acted as if he already had me pegged as the killer.”
“Killer?” said St. George-Fotheringale. “How do we know anybody killed him? It couldn’t be one of us, anyway. We all drank from the same teapot.”
The Major grunted. “Not Julius,” he said.
Julius said, “Well, no one can suspect me of poisoning that tea anyhow. Lady Stout treats making tea like a sacred rite, she wouldn’t let anybody else near it. Thinks it belongs to the sphere of English womanhood or some such.”
The Major seemed to bristle. “She wouldn’t kill him. Why should she? She loved him.”
“Now, I never said she did anything. I’m with St. George here—I don’t think anyone killed him. I don’t know why the police were called in at all. Pass that flask again, will you—it’s going to be a long day.”
Artemis finally located her cousin in a far corner of the garden and inducted her into the study, where the Detective-Inspector waited, staring stonily at his now-cold tea. Smythe Peltingham-Smythe had apparently gone all-out for a gauzey, ethereal look, with some success. Her clothes were drapey, floaty, and lavendar-ish, and as she walked across the room the sound of bells seemed to exude from her. The Detective-Inspector had a mental image of Smythe busily sewing tiny little bells onto her clothes, and tried not to laugh.
“Good afternoon. I am Detective-Inspector Noble. I believe you are Miss Peltingham-Smythe?”
“Yes. Yes. I’m…I’m pleased to meet you, Detective-Inspector.” Smythe gazed abstractedly past the Detective-Inspector’s head.
“Are you all right, Miss Peltingham-Smythe?”
“Yes…of course…it’s just that it…the energy…is so strong…when there’s been a death…I mean when someone has passed over…”
“May I offer my condolences, Miss Peltingham-Smythe? I’m afraid I must ask you some questions. How were you related to Sir Stout?”
“Oh! He was my uncle. My mother’s brother. I’m afraid they didn’t get on well..”
The Detective-Inspector sighed. “Let me guess. Your mother died of sorrow because of her brother’s disapproval, or of poverty because her brother cut her off from the family fortune or something; and furthermore, no one knew where you were all afternoon, thus you have no alibi…is that right?”
“Well…yes….I suppose…I was alone…just thinking…”
“That’s what I thought.” The Detective-Inspector sighed. “Well, I think it’s fairly obvious to everyone that you had nothing to do with Sir Stout’s death.” He drained his teacup at a gulp and said. “Let’s cut to the chase. Please go and ask everyone to gather in the library. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”