“I sincerely hope so, sir,” Michael said. “As for an inquisition, I prefer to call it a little chat. You have no objection if we talk to your servants, also?”
“Not the least in the world. I have told them of your purpose in coming here, and to answer your questions fully.” He lowered his voice as he ushered them into the house. “I have taken the liberty of asking the young lady to be here — the one who was here on the night in question. It will save you the trouble of seeking her out, for I am certain you will wish to confirm my record of events.”
“That was very thoughtful, sir. Thank you.”
“You may use my study, Captain. I have cleared my desk for you. Shall I bring Daisy in first?”
“We will start with you, sir, if you would be so good.”
“Oh. Very well. I shall just let Daisy know. She is a trifle nervous, you understand, having never been questioned in this way before.”
The study was much like the rest of the interior of the house, furnished for comfort rather than elegance. It was neat and tidy, however, and the housemaid did her job thoroughly, for everywhere was clean, floors swept, wood polished to a high shine and windows spotless. Michael eased himself into a chair with slightly sagging upholstery behind a desk empty of all but a standish. Sandy pulled over another chair and laid out his writing equipment.
Mr Eustace returned quickly and settled without complaint into the visitor’s chair at his own desk. “So you want to know about that evening, I suppose,” he said. “I had dinner—”
“Tell me first about this house,” Michael said. “How long have you owned it?”
“Oh. Let me see… three years now. A little over.”
“You inherited it, I understand. From a relation?”
“Not a relation, no, just a friend. A bookbinder by trade, who moved here with his sister when he retired from the business. When the sister died, he befriended me and I was always happy to keep him company — read to him, play cards, discuss the state of the world, you know how it is. And when he died, he left the house and his modest fortune to me, having no relations close to him.”
“How very fortunate for you, sir. I congratulate you,” Michael said in his blandest tones.
Eustace smirked. “Thank you. It is more fortunate than I knew at the time, for it leaves me unaffected by this confounded business of Nicholson not being ordained.”
“Except for the small matter of illegitimacy.”
Eustace laughed. “Except for that. But I still have my house and a good income. Fourteen hundred a year, since I feel sure you will want to know. My illegitimacy need not prevent me marrying.”
“You have a young lady in mind, do you, sir?”
“Certainly. She will be young and fresh and very beautiful — blonde, I fancy, with a well-formed figure and graceful deportment. She will play two instruments, speak three languages and ride all day without tiring. If ever you should meet her, pray send her my way.”
Michael could only laugh and shake his head. “I have never met such a paragon, sadly. To return to the house… do you often visit your family at Corland Castle?”
“Oh, sometimes,” he said airily. “But you know how it is — they have their own lives to live, and I have mine.”
“And when you visit, you ride across the moors?”
“Sometimes, when the weather is fit, since it is the shortest way. In bad weather, I take the road.”
“Very well. Sandy, have you got all that?”
“Aye, Captain.”
“Let us turn to the night in question, beginning with the day before. What did you do that day, sir?”
“Lord, I barely remember now. I had not long returned from town… two days before the murder, I think… I had had some good fortune at the tables, so I was in cheerful mood and ready to celebrate. I sent for Daisy, and gave orders that the servants might have a bowl of punch that evening. Daisy arrived, we had dinner, we went to bed. And there we stayed until quite late the next morning.”
“Could you be more specific about the times at which you retired to bed and left it the next morning?”
“Let me see… we dined early, so that the servants could have their evening free. We must have retired at eight, and I did not wake until ten the next morning. Daisy was still asleep, but she woke shortly after.”
“Thank you. May we see the young lady now?”
Daisy Marler was exactly as Michael had expected, a cherry-cheeked young rustic with no pretensions to ladyhood and clearly nervous. Eustace led her in and settled her in the chair, with the cheerful words, “Nothing to be in a pother about, Daisy. All you have to do is to confirm that I was here all night. I shall be right here if you get flustered.”
