Arsenic For Tea: A Murder Most Unladylike Mystery (A Wells and Wong Mystery) (5 page)

I looked at her. Daisy gets very protective about the things that are hers, and I thought that she had hit on it when she had said,
I don’t like him, and I don’t like him being in my house
. But it was still the most interesting potential case we had hit on for months – if this wasn’t worth investigating, nothing was. And after all, I told myself, whatever happened,
this
case would be safe. It could not possibly turn into a murder.

‘All right,’ I said cautiously.

‘I don’t know yet,’ said Daisy, ‘but I think he’s liable to steal something, don’t you, or trick Mummy into giving him something awfully valuable? Snooping around our lovely things and then making out they’re worth nothing. Well, Mummy might fall for that, but I won’t! Whatever he’s planning, we must assume that he’s going to do it this weekend, while he’s here for the party. All we need is enough evidence to take to Uncle Felix, before he can get away with it. Therefore I need you to get under that cupboard immediately. I’ll get under the table here, and we’ll watch and listen for all we’re worth.’

I looked at the cupboard. The space underneath it looked fearfully small. ‘Daisy—’ I began. But of course, Daisy was already hiding, and naturally she had chosen the hiding place with more space. I had no choice but to squeeze under the cupboard.

I found it very dark and furry with dust, and extremely close. I lay there miserably, the smell of the men’s cigars drifting out through the closed dining-room door, mixing with the dust and tickling its way up my nose.

Every time I even moved, Daisy hissed at me like a goose, and by the time the door opened and ten shiny black shoes came trooping past my face, I was thoroughly cross. Sometimes being part of the Detective Society is not enjoyable at all.

‘Billiards?’ asked Lord Hastings in his big round voice.

‘Not for me,’ said Mr Curtis, his mirror-polished shoes pausing just in front of my nose. ‘I’ve got things to do.’

‘Not business?’ asked Uncle Felix, in his lightest, coldest tones. ‘I hope you won’t be telephoning at all hours . . . You’re at a party, you know. You must remember to enjoy yourself.’

‘Oh, you mustn’t worry about that.’ Mr Curtis oozed smugness. ‘I always remember to enjoy myself. And I promise you, I shall have no use for the telephone. Everything I need is here in Fallingford.’

I twitched, and the cupboard creaked around me.

‘I don’t like your tone—’ Bertie began hotly, and then stopped, as though someone had put their hand on his arm.

‘Shh!’ I heard Stephen say. ‘Bertie, don’t.’

‘Indeed,’ said Uncle Felix. ‘Nothing to get upset about. Well, Curtis, we shall leave you to it. Come on, George, Bertie, Stephen. Billiards.’

They walked away, and I heard Lord Hastings say in what was supposed to be a whisper, ‘That man! If he wasn’t a guest in my house . . . How
does
Margaret know him?’

Uncle Felix murmured something, and they were gone.

Mr Curtis was left alone in the hall. His shoes paced to and fro across the faded hall carpet. I wiggled my head forward a bit so I could see Daisy, crouching under her table. She made a cross face at me that I knew meant
Stay put
, and so I drew my neck back in again, groaning quietly.

Then the drawing-room door sighed open, and a pair of thin high heels came tapping across the stone floor and onto the carpet next to Mr Curtis’s shoes.

‘Denis,’ said Daisy’s mother quietly, like a breath out.

‘Margaret,’ said Mr Curtis, just as quietly. ‘Meet you. Nine fifteen. Library.’

‘Yes,’ whispered Daisy’s mother, and then the library door itself opened, and out came Miss Alston’s blocky brown shoes.

‘Oh, what a surprise,’ she said, stopping. ‘I was looking for the girls, to make sure they really
are
playing hide-and-seek.’

‘They quite clearly aren’t here,’ said Lady Hastings in annoyance. ‘Really, can’t you keep them under control? Whatever do I pay you for?’

‘You are quite right,’ said Miss Alston blandly. ‘I do apologize.’ But although her mouth was saying the words, I could tell that this was not at all what she meant. She went striding off towards the billiard room – but again, I felt that she was doing quite the opposite to what she wanted to. Under all the properness, Miss Alston was just as curious about seeing Lady Hastings and Mr Curtis together as we were.

But for now, the scene seemed to be over. Lady Hastings clicked back to the drawing room, and Mr Curtis muttered, ‘Whisky!’ and hurried back into the dining room.

I couldn’t bear to stay squashed under that cupboard for another moment. I kicked and heaved my way out, bumping my head in the process, and then flopped forward onto the carpet, panting like a fish. Almost before I had time to blink, Daisy was next to me.

‘Did you hear?’ she hissed.

‘I don’t see how I could have missed it,’ I said, and spat out a ball of dust.

‘Exactly! Quick – into the library, before Alston comes back and sends us to bed! We must be ready for the rendezvous.’

I paused. There was suddenly a little twinge in my stomach. Yes, I had heard everything that Daisy had – but I wondered if it had meant exactly the same thing to the two of us. Mr Curtis was up to no good . . . but I also knew that sometimes grown-ups went into quiet rooms together for very different reasons. What if
this
was one of those times? Was this a mystery the Detective Society ought to be investigating?

‘Daisy . . .’ I said. ‘Are you
sure
?’

‘Hazel,’ snapped Daisy. ‘
Do you want to catch Mr Curtis being a criminal or not?
’

I couldn’t argue with that.

Across the hall we went, and into the library. As I opened the door, the warmth from the fire came up against my face like a blush. It was empty, and Daisy motioned towards the heavy curtain draped across the window alcove at the back. We crept in (hiding
again
, I thought sadly), and Daisy pulled the curtain to. Then we sat there, with our fronts warm and our backsides very cold, waiting to see what was going to happen. Daisy flicked the curtain back a little way so we could peep through, and bounced a bit with excitement, but I was nervous. I couldn’t stop worrying. What if I was right?

We were not waiting long. The door opened and in came Mr Curtis, his face horribly smug and his hands jammed into his pockets. He looked cheerful, but all the same he started like anything when the door opened behind him.

‘See?’ Daisy hissed to me. ‘A guilty conscience!’

It was only Daisy’s mother, though. She slipped into the library, hugging her fur around her as though she were cold.

‘Now,
be vigilant
!’ Daisy mouthed in the half-dark behind the curtain. ‘We must remember
everything
he says to her so we can tell Uncle Felix afterwards.’

But there was not much to remember. Lady Hastings and Mr Curtis merely stared at each other with great big round eyes, without saying anything. If Mr Curtis meant to trick her into giving him the Ming vase on the landing, this seemed an odd way to go about it.

‘My darling,’ said Mr Curtis. ‘My darling . . .’ And then he took hold of Lady Hastings and kissed her vigorously.

I nearly laughed. Grown-ups look so odd and ugly when they kiss, and Mr Curtis and Daisy’s mother were being so enthusiastic about it.

But then I looked at Daisy.

Her hands were over her open mouth, and her eyes were open too, as wide as they could go. She was staring and staring at her mother and Mr Curtis, and tears were trickling down her face and onto her curled-up fingers.

I had never seen Daisy cry before. I didn’t think she had tears in her, the way ordinary people do. But as soon as I saw her, I realized that this was extremely serious. This was Daisy’s mother, and Daisy’s mother was married to Daisy’s father. She was not supposed to be kissing other men in libraries. She was not supposed to be kissing other men at all.

The library door banged open again and Bertie burst into the room. Stephen was just behind him, and I had a snapshot of his shocked, freckly face, mouth open almost as wide as Daisy’s, before Bertie roared, ‘MOTHER!’ and Lady Hastings and Mr Curtis leaped apart as though they had been electrocuted.

‘Bertie!’ gasped Lady Hastings. ‘Mr Curtis was just—’

The door banged open again, and Uncle Felix came striding in. ‘Margaret, are you in here?’ he called. ‘I want— What’s this?’

‘I was having a quiet word with Denis,’ said Lady Hastings. ‘Bertie interrupted us.’

‘A quiet word, was it?’ asked Bertie, face burning. ‘Don’t talk such tosh, Mother, you’ve done this too many times. If it were up to me I’d— Oh! Come on, Stephen, let’s leave these idiots to it.’ And he turned and shoved his way out of the room, looking ready to crumple up with rage.

Stephen followed him, darting one last shocked glance back at Mr Curtis as he did so.
Poor Stephen
, I thought,
caught up in the middle of this! And poor Daisy too.
She was still weeping.

Uncle Felix stared from Lady Hastings to Mr Curtis, then back again, and I could see him understanding everything.

‘So, Margaret,’ he said. ‘What were you
really
doing?’ He suddenly sounded quite dangerous.

‘I don’t see what it is to you,’ said Mr Curtis. ‘It’s a free country.’

‘For one thing,’ said Uncle Felix, ‘I happen to be Margaret’s brother. And for another – I’d like to know more about you, Mr Denis Curtis. Which antiques house do you work for, again – was it Christie’s?’

Mr Curtis froze. ‘
None
of your business,’ he snarled, all politeness gone from his voice. ‘I didn’t say. And I’ll thank you to move out of my way!’

He barged out of the room – very rudely, I thought, hating him more than ever. Lady Hastings was left standing alone beside the sofa, hugging herself with her arms again and looking forlorn.

‘Sometimes you’re horrid,’ she said to Uncle Felix. ‘Why do you always have to go poking your nose in?’

‘Margaret, listen for a moment. That man – he’s not the sort of person you ought to be associating with. I strongly suggest you reconsider having him in the house.’

‘Oh, don’t be so tiresome,’ Lady Hastings snapped. ‘Just because he’s my friend! This is my home, and you can’t tell me what to do in it.’

‘He needs to go, Margaret!’ said Uncle Felix – but Lady Hastings had already stormed out. He groaned and ran his fingers through his hair, and then he strode after her. We were alone.

Daisy was still crouched behind the curtain, gulping, her face covered in tears. I didn’t know what to do. She’d had a shock – I remembered vaguely that people in shock were supposed to have cold water poured over them, but I didn’t have any cold water to hand.

‘Daisy,’ I said, trying to be encouraging. I knew I couldn’t speak about what we had just seen. ‘Didn’t you hear? It sounds as though Uncle Felix is suspicious of Mr Curtis after all! We might really be on to something!’

Daisy sniffed. There was a short silence. ‘Hazel,’ she said in a very small voice, and she crawled out from behind the curtain, ‘I think you may have a point.’

The library door crashed open again.

‘THERE you are!’ cried Kitty crossly. ‘See, Beanie? I told you they’d be hiding down here! You beasts! Come on, Miss Alston says we have to go to bed.’

Daisy climbed the stairs to the nursery – but her mouth was pinched and her fists were clenched, and I could tell that she was still going over and over what we had seen in the library.

‘Are you all right, Daisy?’ asked Beanie, peering at her. ‘Your face is red.’

‘I’m quite all right,’ said Daisy, snapping to attention. ‘The library was hot, that’s all.’

‘We saw Mr Curtis just now,’ said Kitty. ‘He was looking awfully cross about something. Is
he
all right?’

‘Hah!’ said Daisy, before she could stop herself. ‘I mean, I’m sure he is.’

‘He had that glorious watch of his out again,’ Kitty went on. ‘Your Aunt Saskia was there too, and she was simply ogling it. It was quite funny to watch. She was like a cat staring at a bird!’

‘But it’s Mr Curtis’s!’ said Beanie, shocked.

Kitty sighed, and even Daisy grinned briefly. Beanie is so beautifully honest that she thinks the rest of the world must be too.

‘Excited about your birthday tomorrow?’ asked Kitty. ‘I simply adore birthdays. So many presents!’

‘I suppose so,’ said Daisy vaguely. ‘The birthday party, though – ugh! A children’s tea! I don’t know how old Mummy thinks I am.’

Of course, she wasn’t really cross with her mother because of the birthday tea. It was the library, I knew – and I felt awful for her. She couldn’t even breathe a whisper about it to the others – if Kitty knew, we would be hearing about it all weekend, and the whole school would know as soon as summer term began.

So I was not at all surprised when Daisy made an excuse to leave Kitty and Beanie changing in the nursery while we went to brush our teeth in the upstairs bathroom.

The upstairs bathroom is just as faded as the rest of Fallingford. Its white porcelain is all cracked, and there’s a rusty ring around the edge of the clawed bath. The tap drips, and a green stain wriggles all the way down from the top of its chain into the hole where the water runs away, like the ghost of a worm.

‘Are you all right?’ I asked, as soon as we had pushed the bolt to behind us and turned on the water. It gulped and hissed, and quite drowned out our voices to anyone trying to listen.

Daisy waved her hands and sat down on the edge of the bath tub. ‘Of course I am,’ she said. ‘Don’t concern yourself about
that
. I’ve been considering what we have discovered so far, and it seems to me that since Mr Curtis is in this house for nefarious purposes, what we saw in the library today is simply more evidence of his wicked plans. He has clearly decided to trick my mother into falling in love with him so she’ll believe that all our nice things are worthless – and as I said before, Mummy is often not at all bright about people. We must consider her the victim, and Mr Curtis the very cunning criminal.’

‘But, Daisy,’ I said. ‘It still
happened
.’