Chapter 2: The Detective Society’s First Case

There was a series of surprised gasps, muted yelps and a shrill scream from the direction of Mrs Patterson. This was a shocked silence for a few seconds before the Vicar’s voice said “Is everyone alright?”. There were some noises of acquiescence and Colonel Mursberry remarked “Must be something wrong with the power, hang on.” Some shuffling began and then the striking of a match who’s dim flame illuminated his bristling mustaches. 

"Have you got a candle Roger?" Lord Esterton said he wasn't sure but there should be one somewhere to which Lady Esterton said she was sure there was one on the sideboard. At this point the match went out and another was hastily lit. It moved slowly to the sideboard and a brighter light appeared as the candle was lit. “Is this the only one?" 
"I'm afraid so."

"Hang on a moment, I think I have a torch somewhere." This was Miss Winshaw and was followed by a lot of shuffling and patting as she tried to locate it in her many cluttered pockets. There were several clunks as she emptied them onto the table and then eventually, a bright beam shone out as she finally found it and turned it on. 
"Right," this was the forceful Colonel again, "Now there's light here, I'll take this candle to find the fuse box, perhaps Bodkins can help." 

"Please do, I'm not at all fond of the dark, ever since I was a little boy, it frightens me somehow." This quivering remark from Professor Ambleside was followed by a shudder and Miss Avery's comforting "There, there, dear, there's nothing here to be frightened of here" her tone was motherly and warm.  

"Unless her ladyship countess Beatrice snuck in, in which case you should be jolly terrified." Miss Winshaw’s remark was met with humorous laughter as they all shared in the Horror of that intense woman. "No offence meant to you Roger, of course " 
“None taken. I know she's my aunt but she isn't, how do I put this nicely, easy to get on with.”

 "Don't bother putting it nicely, I mean, she's thoroughly beastly, do you remember the fuss she made at our wedding?" 
"Oh no, I can't bear to think of it. Yes, you're right dear, you always are of course but in this case doubly so, that woman is possibly the worst person in England." 
The professor piped in with “Don't you think that's a bit far? She can't be that bad, surely." 
“Oh she is, do you not remember her at our wedding?" 
"Let me think... Was she the one with a huge purple hat?" 
"No, that's Lucy's aunt Mabel. Beatrice was the one who pushed Mother in the lake." 

"Oh, yes she was rather dreadful." They were all laughing now as  they remembered the ridiculous argument about the flower arrangements that had ended in Lord Esterton’s mother emerging from the lake, dripping wet with mud all down her dress and absolutely furious. 
"Oh my, I remember her, " Mrs Patterson chuckled. "She's the one who used to shout out during your sermons with improvements, wasn't she, dear?" 
"Oh yes. That was rather difficult. I like to try and be forgiving and compassionate towards everyone as a rule, but I'm afraid I was rather relieved when she moved to a different parish. " 
There was more laughter and Miss Winshaw said "Weren’t we all vicar, weren’t we all.” 

At that point, the lights came back on and there was a cheer from the assembled guests. 
"Good old Colonel,” smiled Miss Avary “he always knows what to do." She had continued to knit during the darkness and was just coming to the end of the right sleeve.
 "Is everyone in one piece?" Miss Winshaw was looking at them all, seemingly to check that they still had all the right number of limbs. They all said they were and then Lady Esterton remarked "what a shame, if this was a story someone would have been bumped off in a suspicious darkness like that." 

 "Oh, you are crude Dear,  I for one am glad this isn't a story as I don't like the idea of being murdered." 
Miss Avary remarked thoughtfully, "I don't think anyone does Roger. I think it's more just something that happens to someone, usually without them realising." 
"Jolly careless to get murdered if you ask me, people should be more careful." laughed Roger Esterton. 

"I enjoy murder, it's ever so romantic. " Miss Patterson sighed. “I don't think God would agree with you there Dear. Human life is precious and shouldn't be thrown away like that if you ask me." the Vicar smiled as his wife went an embarrassed shade of red. 
"Oh no, I don't mean real murder, I'm sure that ghastly, I mean the sort you read in books.” 
"I know you do, I'm only teasing.” 
“Oh right.” She laughed.

Professor Lawrence was looking interested, “I think detective stories are splendid. They're all ever so clever. I don't think I could do half the stuff they come up with. Unless it was a plant-based crime but I don't imagine there are many of them." Lady Esterton suddenly looked very pleased with herself "I have a wonderful idea. What if we set up our own detective Society? It can have all of us as members and we could solve local crimes while playing cards. It would be great fun!" 

Everyone looked enthusiastic except the vicar. "It's a good idea but we don't have many crimes around here. After all, we live in a small friendly Village, so what would we solve? " 
"I haven't worked out all the details yet but I'm sure we can think of something. Does anyone have any mysteries they want solving?" 

There was a brief silence as everyone racked their brains for something interesting. Then Miss Winshaw made a tentative suggestion. "Well, there was that situation with one of my pear trees."
 "Go on." 
"Well, I'm sure there were more on Thursday than there were when I checked on Friday. I was pretty suspicious that someone had stolen them."

 "That's a start: the mystery of the missing pairs, any ideas?" Miss Avery looked sheepish and began to explain "I’m so sorry but that's not a mystery at all. I was talking to Sam from down the road and he was saying how wonderful it would be to make some pear jam and what a shame it was that he couldn't this year. It's a tradition of his you see but his pears haven't done very well so he wouldn't have enough. So I said that we had plenty and he could have some if he wanted. I'm sorry I forgot to tell you Ginny, it must have slipped my mind." 
“Oh, that's perfectly alright Belle. Sorry everyone, it turns out it wasn't a mystery at all, just a misunderstanding." 
"What a shame, and it sounded so promising. We still haven't got a proper crime. Surely someone can think of something?" 

That prompted another, longer silence. Everyone looked thoughtful. Then Mrs Patterson exclaimed "I've just thought of something!" 
“Excellent, do tell.”  
"Well, I was just looking around at everyone and I suddenly realised the Colonel isn't here. He never came back!" There was a shared look of surprise as they all realised she was right. 
"That’s strange, it's been a good 20 minutes since the lights came back on and there's only some stairs between here and the cupboard where the fuse box is, perhaps he’s gotten lost?" Lord Esterton was looking mildly concerned but not worried 

"I don't imagine so. He was in the army for 20 years and, by all accounts, he was very good with directions." This was the pensive Vicar. 
"Good grief, maybe he's had a stroke. He could be very ill, or even dead!" The little Professor had sprung from his seat and was looking very panicked as he glanced back and forth between the party with anxious eyes. 

Miss Winshaw was authoritative and firm, "I'm sure he’s just gone to the lavatory or is talking to Bodkins, nothing quite so dramatic as death. But I do agree we should have a look about for him, just in case.”
“I’ll go.”
“Me too!”
“And me.”
“I’m not being left here!”
“Well if she’s going then I will too.”

Lord Esterton laughed, "We can all go, we can cover more ground that way.” 
They all stood up and, after some hasty instruction from Miss Winshaw and Lady Esterton, set off in pairs to find the missing Colonel. The jittery, fearful Professor and the calm, level-headed Vicor went to investigate the ground floor together, Lady Esterton and Miss Avery went to the first floor to check the rooms along the corridors, Miss Winshaw and Mrs Patterson went to ask the servants and explore the west wing and Lord Esterton went to find Bodkin who knew everything that happened in the house and so was bound to know where the Colonel had got to. 

The fuse box was in the kitchen so that was the first point of call for the Professor and the Father. Ambleson was chattering nervously and the Vicar was reasonably trying to keep him calm. It wasn't really working and the phrase ‘deer caught in the headlights’  perfectly summed up his anxious expression. When they reached the kitchen door the Vicar put out his hand to open it but the Professor stopped him, “What if he’s murdered, Gerald? What if we go in there and he's lying, dead… in... in a pool of blood or or strangled or..." 

The Vicar interrupted before he could work himself anymore "Look here Lawrence, I'm sure he's perfectly fine, the Colonel knows how to look after himself in any case. Just take a deep breath." The professor did so. 
"Good, come on then ." He pushed on the door and it swung open with an eerie creek followed by a high pitched scream and crash as Lawrence Ambleson, Professor of botany and herbs, collapsed. 

    The Colonel was slumped in a chair, with his eyes closed. His clothes and the floor were dripping with a dark red substance that looked suspiciously like blood. The Vicar's hand went to his mouth to stifle a gasp of horror and surprise. Shards of glass littered the floor as though a struggle had taken place. 

Just then, Miss Winshaw and Mrs Patterson arrived rather breathlessly. The latter spoke in a flustered, excitable way. "Hello Gerald, is everything quite alright? We heard a scream and and.." She then noticed Professor Ambleson’s crumpled body and gasped audibly. Miss Winshaw noticed too and rushed to check his pulse. 

"Phew, he's quite alright, what on earth happened to him?" The vicar was looking rather shell shocked and just moved out of the doorway so they could see the scene in the kitchen. He spoke softly as he did so "He saw that and the surprise got the better of him." There was another shrill scream and Mrs Patterson teetered a bit and looked as though, she too, was about to faint. Miss Winshaw and her husband both reached to steady her. 

There was a booming voice from the kitchen, “I say,” it began in confusion, "what on earth is going on?" This time it was the Vicar's turn to react dramatically and he let out a loud cry of surprise and collapsed next to the Professor. 

"Men." Sighed Miss Winshaw disapprovingly. However it was not a malicious remark and she bent down to briefly check the Vicar’s pulse in the same manner as she had checked the Professor's before turning to see who had spoken. 
Her face registered a short flash of surprise but did not remain in the frozen amazement that Mrs Patterson’s was fixed in. 

The Colonel was still sitting in the chair surrounded by the red liquid and shards of glass, but he was now sitting upright  with his eyes open in bewildered surprise. 
"Well I'm glad well to see one member of the male sex is conscious," Miss Winshaw laughed in the relief that the colonel had not been murdered after all.

 "Yes, I seem to be the only one. Why is that I wonder?" 
"They, " began Miss Winshaw before stopping and, always one for honesty, hesitantly changing the pronoun, “Well we thought..." 
Mrs Patterson, who had been stunned into silence for only the fourth time in her life, recovered herself then and suddenly interjected with "We thought you'd carked it colonel!" 
“You thought I'd done what?" 
"Been bumped off I mean, gotten out of the way… Murdered!" She said the last word as though she was announcing a very important secret on a stage. 
"Well I haven't, I don't know what gave you that idea." 

Miss Winshaw gestured at the rather incriminating scene in front of them and raised her eyebrows. Colonel Mursberry looked around him at the chaos and looked rather sheepish.
“Ah, I see. There has been a misunderstanding." Miss Winshaw’s eyebrows rose again. Mrs Patterson was getting impatient now as there was still no explanation. 

"I still don't understand why the kitchen looks like a murder scene," she prompted with a questioning undercurrent to her voice. The Colonel frowned, "About that, erm, there was an incident." He paused looking terribly embarrassed. Miss Winshaw and Mrs Patterson just looked at him curiously so he coughed and continued.

"I found the fuse box and flicked the switch. To my delight, the lights came back on. As they did, I noticed a rather promising looking bottle of wine on the counter. It was an 1823 Bordeaux and looked very inviting. I assumed it had been left out for us for later and I thought I would bring it up with me as it seemed just about wine time. I picked it up and noticed a little note attached to the neck. I was reading it and slowly making my way towards the door when I, erm..." he cleared his throat apologetically " I, well, I tripped on an uneven piece of tile.”

The Colonel stopped again and looked at the listeners pleadingly. The Vicar and the Professor were starting to come round and were sitting listening with dazed expressions. Again, nobody spoke. They were enjoying listening to the Colonel's booming monologue. Recognising that more was expected of him, he continued.

“My balance really isn't what it was, I suppose it comes from getting old and enjoying your food a little too much." He patted his straining waist coat, "Long story short, the wine slipped from my grasp and I ended up on the floor surrounded by some very expensive alcohol and rather a lot of shattered glass. I brushed myself off and stood, surveying the damage for a moment or two before I sat down here to decide what to do. I wasn't ready to face Esterton just yet with the news of my mishap and I suppose the food and whiskey began kicking in. So, one way or another, I nodded off and the next thing I knew I heard screaming and awoke to find you two looking at me like I was a stuffed animal. "
He gestured to the two women, "And these two gentlemen as useful, conversationally, as old stone walls. Is that a good enough explanation for you?"

The two gentlemen in question were still recovering and Mrs Patterson looked deep in thought so it was Miss Winshaw who responded "Quite good enough, thank you Colonel." Ginny Winshaw was twisting pieces of loose hair around her finger and then tucking them behind her ear. 

“Well that was awfully entertaining but I'm afraid we really ought to be getting back to the others, they’ll probably still be looking for you." 
But the others weren't looking for the Colonel anymore, in fact, they had quite a different issue altogether which the five people, who eventually appeared on the first floor landing after a bit of brushing down and a small glass of brandy for the Professor and Vicor, were about to discover.

Darling E,
I am writing this while sat on the boat to Calais so I apologise for any ink splotches. I am informed the sea is uncharacteristically rough, even for April. Fortunately, I am not quite as bad as you are off dry land which is a blessing as that excursion punting in Oxford is one I shall never forget, I have never seen anyone look so green as you did then. Those two scoops of ice cream may have been a mistake. The train to London was uneventful. I sat with a charming young lady who told me in great depth of her young lover whom she was going to meet at Kings Cross and how she was travelling all the way down from Edinburgh on her own as her parents didn’t approve of her match as her young man was a war hero and apparently they had heard some unsavoury stories of what he had been up to while abroad. She informed me that this was all slander, of course and that his morals were of the highest calibre so that was certainly an experience. I may be able to write a book based on it entitled ‘the lies young men tell to get a young woman alone.’. I trust you haven’t been telling me any lies and that your morals are in fact of the highest calibre. The train ride to Dover was quieter as the old couple I was sharing a compartment with spent most of the time asleep so that was a relief. The cliffs were beautiful and seeing the sun set against them as the ocean slipped away beneath us was truly breathtaking. When I return, you shall have to find an excuse to bring me back some day so that you can experience it for yourself. I shall write again when I am settled in Paris  but I think I may need to have a sit somewhere quiet with my eyes closed for now as the sea is proving a little much, even for me,
Yours unequivocally, X