Murder at the Spring Ball: A 1920s Mystery Benedict Brown (good books to read in english .TXT) 📖

“No!” This single word echoed about the room and forced every last person there, from insignificant Halfpenny the footman to chirpy Great-Aunt Clementine, to turn in my direction. Slowly, reluctantly, but seeing no other option, I rose to my feet. “Or rather… I mean…”

Now that I had started, I couldn’t quite remember what I wanted to say. Grandfather’s thick brows had closed in on one another to make one long, prickly bush on his forehead. It was a look of both curiosity and judgement and the pressure it loaded upon me somehow sparked me into life.

“I mean to say that, Grandfather and I have been investigating together and, as the novice in this case, he has offered me the chance to present my findings.” I was talking nonsense of course, but the curiosity in him won out and he sat back down to listen. “My aunt and uncle were murdered for the oldest reason in the world.”

“Jealousy!” my father uttered in a bitter tone and I felt a little horrid for contradicting him.

“Money!”

“But Cain killed Abel because of-” he began, before my mother put her hand on his and I continued.

“By putting cyanide in the champagne that had been given to my grandparents on their wedding day, which the whole family knew would be served at the spring ball, the killer had a chance to wipe out my entire family and ensure that this estate would pass on to her.”

There was some speculative mumbling as I said this, and I realised that I’d rather blown the big reveal I was building up to. “I’m talking of course about Lord Edgington’s great niece, Cora Villiers. The granddaughter of his only brother, Arthur, who died before he could inherit this estate, therefore denying Cora her family birthright.”

I allowed this scandalous announcement to blow around the room and luxuriated a little in the excitement it had provoked. My partner in crime-detection looked less enthusiastic, but I’d known that would be the case and had to keep going.

“Such a dastardly plan was the only way to obtain my grandfather’s significant wealth and it was hatched with great skill. From the beginning we knew she was lying about what happened on the night of the ball, but this was explained when we learnt of her love for a butler in the employ of Cranley Hall. Reginald Fellowes, the man who has been serving us this evening.”

A few eyes turned to Halfpenny, who was pouring gravy at that moment and now wore an uncomfortable look on his heavily lined face.

“No, sorry, not him,” I had to explain. “The other one.”

Heads flicked to the shadows by the door where Cora’s despicable accomplice stood listening. He shot me a stare that could have toasted bread, but I wasn’t scared now. Finally revealing the truth had rewarded me with confidence, and I took a moment to soak in the atmosphere.

Unsurprisingly, Cora looked yet more distraught as she processed the knowledge that her one-way ticket to the hangman’s noose at Holloway Women’s Prison was now confirmed. Inspector Blunt was all ears (and eyes for that matter). He was hanging on my words, and I could tell he would do the right thing and arrest the scoundrels when the moment came. Grandfather still wasn’t giving anything away, but softly tapped the table in front of him.

I understood his implication and began to lay out the evidence. “Fellowes told us that he had opened the champagne only to swan off with his young lady in the gardens, but this would have deteriorated the quality of a fine wine, and what faithful butler would do such a thing? This was the first point which made me suspicious, but there was more to come. Much more!” I was trying to sound dramatic but ended up with a far too diabolical tone, like the villain in a Christmas pantomime.

I cleared my throat and continued. “Cora ensured that the champagne was spiked, then returned to the ballroom just before Grandfather made his toast. Only, the two plotters didn’t get their stories straight in advance and their accounts of these events were vague and hazy. Cora claimed to have gone back to the party after her boyfriend. Fellowes said he’d heard a voice through the drinks room window, but Cora never mentioned calling up to him.”

This was my first major piece of evidence and it had the effect I was hoping for. Blunt raised his chin, clearly impressed by my powers of observation. Mother and Father even looked a little proud of me.

“Cora?” George murmured, sounding oddly proud. “You devil!”

I didn’t let him break my concentration. “When Belinda sampled the champagne and died before the rest of the family could drink, Cora and Reggie’s nefarious plan came to nothing. It was not enough to murder one heir to the family fortune if there were another ten waiting in the wings and the two desperately scrambled to cover their tracks.”

I paused then, knowing that my killer blow was still to come. Thanks to my excessively sympathetic nature, I almost felt sorry for poor, doomed Cora. But, as the old saying goes, he who seeks revenge digs two graves … No, wait, that doesn’t quite capture it. Maybe, money is the root of all evil? Either way, she’d made a terrible mess of things.

“My uncle Maitland had caught the two of them together on the night of the ball and so he was the next to die. I have to give the murderers credit for what they achieved. They came up with a mechanism to distance themselves from their crimes which almost fooled the great Superintendent Edgington – the scourge of London criminals for half the Victorian age. Unluckily for them, we finally got to the truth.”

My grandfather himself sat listening impartially. That serious expression was still on his face and his eyes drilled a hole through my head. I could tell he still didn’t believe what I had to