A smooth, plausible liar, Tennant thought.But lying about what?According to General Grey, Bolger was on the Isle of Wight the day someone in London murdered Brigid Dowling.
The middle-aged housekeeper was next. “How long have you served the queen, Mrs. Forsythe?” Tennant asked.
“I assumed my duties a year ago,” she said.
“Tell me about Lizzie Dowling.”
The housekeeper considered for a moment. “Lizzy was a kind young woman, Inspector. I liked her. She was thoughtful and observant about people. She noticed when things needed doing and stepped in. Quietly. Withoutoverstepping, if you know what I mean.”
“I think I do.”
“If I thanked her, she’d say she was grateful to be here. I thought it wasn’t just words. I sensed she’d seen trouble in her life and counted herself lucky.”
“She gave you no hint about her trials?”
“No. I’m sorry, now. Sorry I didn’t encourage her to confide in me.”
Tennant asked about Lizzie’s friends, but the murdered girl had lacked a confidant among the servants.
“She kept herself to herself,” Mrs. Forsythe said. “But Princess Louise made a pet of the girl.”
“How so?”
“Her Royal Highness moved Lizzie to a small room in the princesses’ wing,” the housekeeper said. “Treated her like a lady’s maid rather than a parlor servant. It caused some resentment.”
“How much are we talking about?”
“Bruised feelings and petty sniping, Inspector,” she said. “Nothing that would lead to murder.”
“You heard the findings of the medical examination?”
“Yes. And before you ask, I have no idea who the father was.”
“She hadn’t made friends with the male servants? Mister Bolger, for instance? He’s a good-looking chap.”
Mrs. Forsythe smiled. “There’s a pecking order among servants, Inspector. Mister Bolger condescends to greet me if we meet in a hallway, but a house steward in a place like Osborne would take little notice of a servant girl.”
“Even a very attractive one?”
“I saw no sign of it. Now, the prince’s valet … he’s another matter. He has an eye for any comely female. But as far as I know, Lizzie never looked back.”
Tennant thanked her and turned his attention to the two equerries on his list, starting with Oliver Montgomery. The tall, sandy-haired captain stretched himself on a settee and began with a sardonic joke about being arrested. He crossed his legs and waved to the inspector. “Fire away,” he said, looking as if he hadn’t a care in the world.
Tennant asked Montgomery about his movements on the afternoon of Lizzie’s death.
“No alibi to speak of. I took the floating bridge to the island’s western side. Rode to Yarmouth and back.”
“Did you see anyone you knew?”
The captain shrugged. “Only strangers on the roads who wouldn’t know me from Adam.”
“The prince and Major FitzGerald were out riding as well. Who returned first?”
“I did. A gentleman might find your line of inquiry somewhat offensive, Inspector.” But Montgomery sounded more amused than affronted.
“A gentleman with something to hide might,” Tennant said.
“Well, that lets me out.”
