“Possibly. You did not fit the original locks, then?”
“Not me, sir. They were likely done when the castle was built, judging by the style of them. I’ve only been here four years. Changed a couple of locks in that time — the silver store, when Mr Simpson lost his key, and a desk drawer for his lordship. Mostly I do windows, or fix warped doors.”
“Do you live in the village here, Mr Shapman?”
“Not Corland. Down at Birchall, four, five miles from here. That’s where me family live.”
“All locksmiths, are they?”
Shapman laughed. “Pa’s the sexton at the church. Me brothers are farm labourers, mainly, but I apprenticed as a carpenter, since old Will Barker were the only one in the villageand getting on a bit. He does furniture, so I do mainly doors and windows, so as not to tread on his toes, like. I like doors. It’s precision work, just like a cabinet, but not fancy. No one wants fancy doors.”
“Just so long as they open and close, eh?”
“Aye, that’s it. It’s all in the hanging and the balance.”
“So what are they saying at Birchall village about this murder?”
Shapman paused in his work, looking sideways at Michael. “You want the gossip, do you?”
“Certainly!” Michael said with a grin. “His lordship has confined my questioning only to those who are within the castle, and since youarewithin the castle…?”
The carpenter chuckled. “Sorry to disappoint, sir, but I don’t have much to tell. Everyone’s very shocked, of course, but no one knows owt about it. Like who did it, or why.”
“No one saw any mysterious strangers passing through that day? No one saying darkly over their ale,‘Ah well, he had it coming, because of…’well, some secret or other?”
Shapman shook his head. “Never knew any harm of the man, meself, and never heard of any from anyone else.”
“So he had no enemies?”
“Not that I know of. There — that’s the window done.” He jumped down, uncurling a height that Michael could only envy. “If there’s nothing else, sir, I’ve a listing barn door to see to.”
Michael sighed. “Of course. Thank you for fixing the window and locks, Mr Shapman. I shall sleep easier knowing no stranger can break in here.”
***
Mrs Michael Edgerton arrived in some style, in a post chaise and four with two outriders, her lady’s maid, her ownpersonal footman, and an elderly lady with twinkling eyes and a delighted smile on her face. The elderly lady was rather shabby, but Michael was amused to see that his wife had decided to be the lady of fashion for this visit. He wondered just how much her very fetching bonnet had cost.
“My companion, Miss Peach,” she said grandly, gesturing towards the elderly lady as she swept past Simpson and Wellum into the entrance hall, and spun round to take in all the room’s features. “Oh yes, very like Hurtsmere Castle. My uncle, the Earl of Morpeth’s principal seat,” she added to the bemused housekeeper. “A trifle larger, perhaps. I am afraid I have brought rather a quantity of luggage, but it is so difficult when one is in town for the season, is it not? One sees so many delicious confections that one positively must have.”
Michael suppressed a smile, knowing perfectly well that Luce never went near London if she could avoid it, and had moreover come directly from Westmorland. The housekeeper bobbed a curtsy, and requested her to‘please step this way, ma’am,’which Luce graciously agreed to do. Michael trailed along behind her, enjoying the spectacle.
As soon as the housekeeper had left them alone in their room, taking the still smiling Miss Peach with her, Luce turned to Michael and said in a theatrical whisper, “Well? Did I do it right?”
“You did it perfectly, although I am not sure how you became so stylish overnight. I know precisely what clothes you had in Westmorland. Where did the lady’s maid come from?”
“An agency in Harrogate.”
“And the old biddy?”
“Not an old biddy, Michael. Miss Peach is my former governess, who retired some years ago to assist her married sister to run a small tea garden in Harrogate. She has been bored to flinders, I assure you, and is delighted to become a companionfor a little while. She is blessed with insatiable curiosity, so she will be very useful to us. As for my stylish wardrobe, the sister knows a friend who sells the cast-off clothing of fashionable ladies, so I was able to become excessively fashionable in a couple of hours. They do not all fit me very well, but Peachy is adept with a needle, as am I, so we shall do splendidly. How is it going, Michael?”
“Slowly. One cannot just jump in with an earl’s family and start asking pointed questions. We shall get on better now you are here, however, for we shall certainly be asked to dine with the family, and then we can get a better look at them. You must keep an eye on the ladies for me, you know.”
“I shall try, but they will say nothing in front of me. That is one of the advantages of Peachy — we shall retire to a corner of the drawing room with our stitchery, you see, and sooner or later they will forget we are there. Peachy also likes a hot drink at bedtime, so is inclined to wander below stairs for the purpose. We are very optimistic that the servants will be usefully mellow at that time. Did you like my personal footman?”
“James Neate, you mean? Oh, yes. That is clever. He will mingle below stairs, and with any luck he will be asked to serve at table.”
“Who have you talked to so far?” she said, as she removed the very fetching bonnet with a sigh, idly stroking the feathers that adorned it.
