It was unfortunate that Lady Alice Nicholson was the only member of the family still in residence. Her brother, George, and her nephew, Mr Eustace, who both lived nearby, were sent for, but the rest of the family was scattered about the country. Luce immediately offered her services to write the necessary letters to Lady Alice’s dictation, to be sent off by express to the far corners of the kingdom. Lord Rennington and Lady Oliviawere in Scotland. Mr Walter was in London, and Mr Kent in Lancashire. The two married daughters were in County Durham and Nottinghamshire. Lady Alice’s daughter was in London. And in time, one by one, carriages drew up on the drive and black-clad figures crossed the bridge over the moat and were received into the castle.
The Dowager Countess was buried with all the ceremony due to the relict of an earl. Afterwards, with Christmas so close, and the weather uncertain, and other entertainments forbidden so early in their bereavement, the family settled down with almost audible relief for a protracted stay, to catch up with all the news, as families always do when meeting after long absences.
There was much to celebrate, too, with so many marriages in the family, not the least of which was that of the earl and countess, reunited after a long separation, both by Scottish custom and, more solidly, by a bishop’s licence in Carlisle, and delighting in their status. The gathering seemed likely to turn into quite a party.
Michael and his friends made themselves useful when they could, and otherwise kept out of the way. They took to eating dinner in the old schoolroom, not wishing to intrude on the family’s mourning. Yet even when the funeral was over, Michael made no move to leave. It was Luce who raised the issue.
“Is it not time for us to go?” she said. “The investigation is over, Michael. There is nothing else for us to do here… is there?”
Michael grinned. “Just one thing. Do you remember in the early days, how I tried every point of ingress to the castle, to see how the murderer might have gained access?”
“The drainpipe!” the others said in unison.
“And recall how we recreated the shooting of Bertram Atherton. We did exactly what the perpetrator must have done, and showed how long it took. Well, why should we not try recreating the murder of Nicholson? We have everyone here whowas present on the night of the murder, after all. We might glean some new insight, or someone may remember something, some seemingly trivial point, long forgotten. It is worth a try, is it not?”
“Yes!” Sandy cried, jumping to his feet. “And we’ll be able toseehow it happened!”
“Precisely! We can find out whether a figure fleeing down the main stairs would be visible to Kent Atherton passing the aperture above.”
“And the timing,” Neate said. “How long everything takes — that would be so useful to know.”
“Excellent plan,” Pettigrew said. “I commend you, Michael. But if this does not work —”
“Then I shall give it up. It will haunt me to my dying day, but six months is long enough. If we cannot resolve the matter with this one last attempt, then it will be over and I shall accept my failure.”
***
Michael timed his request carefully. He suspected that if he simply approached the earl, he would be inclined to refuse on principle, but some of the younger men might be more amenable. He waited one evening, therefore, until the ladies had withdrawn from the dining room and then made his request to speak to the remaining eight gentlemen.
He was not given to nerves, as a rule, and had dealt with lords from the rank of duke downwards, but there was something intimidating about so many peers of the realm gathered in one room. Apart from Lord Rennington, there was another earl, Lord Kiltarlity, who was courting Lady Olivia. The two viscounts were Lord Woodridge, husband of the eldest daughter, Josie, and Lord Farramont, married to middle daughter, Izzy. The lowest ranking, a mere baron, was Lord Tarvin, husband toTess, the mercurial daughter of the murdered chaplain and Lady Alice. Only Lord Rennington’s three sons, Walter, Eustace and Kent, were commoners, but despite their illegitimacy, they were still the sons of an earl and not to be treated lightly.
“My lords, gentlemen,” Michael said, with his most respectful bow. “Thank you for allowing me to speak to you.”
“Still here, Edgerton?” Eustace said languidly, twirling his port glass as he lounged in his chair. “Thought you would have left by now.”
“I shall be gone soon, sir, I assure you, but there is one more test I should like to attempt before I give up entirely on this case. It occurs to me that we have everyone at Corland just now who was also here in June, when the murder of Mr Arthur Nicholson took place. With your permission, my lord, I should like to stage a recreation of the event.”
“Recreate it? How?” Lord Rennington said.
“Someone would play the rôle of the murderer, creeping into the castle and up the stairs, collecting the axe from the urn on the way, then pretending to murder Mr Nicholson before creeping away again. Everyone else would behave precisely as they did at the time.”
“What would that accomplish?” Lord Rennington said.
“It would enable me toseehow events unfolded,” Michael said. “I might be able to spot discrepancies in the various accounts I have received, and there is always the possibility that one of the participants might recall something previously forgotten.”
“We are a house in mourning, Edgerton,” the earl said sharply. “It would be disrespectful to my mother, so recently deceased, to be putting on a performance of this nature.”
Before Michael could respond, Kent said eagerly, “We are also celebrating, Father, are we not? You and Mother are reunited, and despite all the upheavals of this year, every one ofyour children is now settled in life, and either married or about to be so. Even my wild Cousin Tess has found a man willing to be tormented by her for life.” They all laughed, even Lord Tarvin. “Grandmother had a long and happy life, and she would not want us to mope about on her account. She was so full of life, she would be happy to see us all so contented.”
“She was fond of amateur theatricals herself,” Walter said. “Remember her inCoriolanus?She was magnificent. She would doubtless have joined in Captain Edgerton’s scheme with enthusiasm.”
“I cannot see that such a performance would achieve anything,” Eustace said, “except to dredge up unhappy memories. It was a night we would all wish to forget, I am sure.”
“It was rather terrifying at the time,” Walter said, “but after so many months, and as long as Aunt Alice is not upset by it, why not?”
“Far be it from me to influence what is purely a family matter,” Lord Farramont said, “but it seems to me that it would be an excellent scheme. There is nothing like seeing a thing for understanding it fully. Captain Edgerton has done everything in his power to find the murderer, and although he has not yet achieved that objective, he managed to recover a great deal of your fortune along the way, Rennington. I believe the captain is owed one last throw of the dice to solve the mystery, and there will never be a better opportunity than now, when we are all gathered together. I should be delighted to offer myself as an impartial observer, if the captain will tell me what to look for.”
After that, all resistance crumbled and the earl reluctantly gave his permission.
