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Tuppence Smethurst, Hilltop Farm, Tipton Hollow. Her voice was almost harsh and, from the look of it, she had some sort of problem with Isaac. At least, that was one reason why she seemed to be glaring at Mark’s associate as though she wanted to throw him out of the door.
Mark hadn’t seen Tuppence before and wondered if she was new to the area. “How long have you lived in Tipton Hollow, Miss Smethurst?”
“All of my life,” Tuppence replied, her voice now soft and amiable.
Mark nodded and looked at Isaac, who was uncharacteristically scowling deeply at Tuppence. He sighed and nudged Isaac who dutifully moved along the line.
“I am Constance Dalrymple, and this is my mother.” She beckoned to the rather matronly lady beside her. “We live at Windmill Mews, just off the Manor Road, Tipton Hollow.”
“I know it,” Mark replied with a smile. He didn’t need to ask if the ladies lived together. The resemblance between them was remarkable. He moved on to the last person in the line. He watched Isaac jot down the details of Miss Betty Haversham who lived at 88 Daventry Street, Tipton Hollow.
With a sigh, Mark turned to the group just as there was a knock on the front door. He watched David Woods head out to let the latest arrivals in. Everyone was solemn and silent as they watched the men carefully place Mrs Bobbington on the stretcher and carry her from the house. David followed them to the door and paused to look at Mark. “I will be in touch with you tomorrow.”
Mark nodded and turned his attention to the room. As soon as the body had gone everyone seemed to imperceptibly relax, although nobody moved.
“Until we can ascertain the cause of death, I suggest that you all go home and stay there. Unfortunately, because of the fact that this is an unexplained death, you must remain at home tomorrow until you either receive word that you are allowed to go about your business, or myself and Detective Brown arrive to ask you further questions.”
“But I have appointments tomorrow, I simply cannot sit at home and wait,” Madame Humphries protested. She was clearly horrified at the thought that she might actually be suspected of anything untoward.
“It is either that or I can arrest everyone here and now while we wait for a cause of death from Doctor Woods. I don’t know about you but I think everyone would be better off after a good night’s sleep.”
“Quite right,” Mr Bentwhistle replied. He glared at Madame Humphries to silence her further protests. “I would rather remain at home for a few hours in the morning and cancel my appointments than spend the night in the cells.” He turned to Mark. “I will be at home if you need me. Is it alright for us to go now?”
“Yes, but I would like to add that if any of you are not at home when we call tomorrow, I
will not hesitate to arrest you.” His tone was as hard as the glare in his eyes as he stared pointedly at Madame Humphries and her assistant for several long moments.
“Ladies, I think that given the lateness of the hour, Mr Bentwhistle, Mr Montague, myself, and Detective Brown will escort you home. It isn’t wise for you to go out into the night by yourselves.” He knew that Isaac lived in Great Tipton. “Detective Brown, I suggest that you take Madame Humphries and Miss Hepplethwaite home and I will see you in the morning.”
He turned to Mr Bentwhistle and Mr Montague.
“I live on the High Street closer to Hilltop Farm, so I am happy to take Tuppence home and can drop Beatrice and the ladies Dalrymple on my way. Assuming that Mr Bentwhistle here is happy to take Eloisa, Miss Smethwick and Miss Haversham?” Mr Montague glanced at everyone enquiringly but nobody made any objection. His suggestion rendered Mark’s involvement unnecessary. Mark mentally applauded the man’s ingenuity and didn’t even attempt to object and instead watched while everyone took their leave.
As soon as the front door closed behind the last guest, Mark turned toward Harriett. “As soon as I have a cause of death for you, I will pop around and let you know if we need to take any further action. Meantime, I should be obliged if neither you nor Babette, leave the house either.”
“Is Charles alright to go? He wasn’t here at all this evening and will have no idea what went on. We need to open the tea shop, you see. Our regular customers will expect it.”
Mark reluctantly drew his gaze away from Harriett and turned toward Babette. “Charles is fine to carry on as normal. We know that he was at the pub throughout the evening. It is just everyone who was present at the time of the death who needs to remain at home. It will just be until we know for certain how Mrs Bobbington died.
Harriett tried hard not to stare at him. He really did have the most mesmerising green eyes. Her gaze skimmed over the high cheekbones to the firmly chiselled lips bracketed by the faint outline of dimples and she wondered if they appeared when he smiled.
“Harriett?”
Harriett blinked and felt a tell-tale blush colour her cheeks. It took her a moment to try to remember what had actually been said; something about someone being ill? Oh, right, Mrs Bobbington.
“The only slightly strange thing that happened was that Miss Hepplethwaite appeared to pretend to faint,” Harriett murmured thoughtfully.
Mark’s gaze sharpened. “How do you mean ‘pretend to faint’?”
“Well, she collapsed and drew everyone’s attention to her. Madame Humphries demanded some water but, within a couple of minutes of being out cold on the floor, Miss Hepplethwaite had recovered and seemed completely unaffected by her collapse.”
“You think she was pretending?”
“I haven’t fainted myself, but of the few people I have seen suffer from the malady had needed more than a minute or two to recover. Miss Hepplethwaite continued with the demonstration within a couple of minutes and was completely unperturbed by her apparent ‘faint’.”
“Thank you for that.” Mark made a note on his pad. “Is there anything else?” His gaze flickered from Harriett to Babette before lingering on Harriett.
“I cannot recall anything,” she replied with a frown. She wished he wouldn’t stare at her like that; it was strangely difficult to focus her thoughts on anything. His dimples were really rather distracting and they captured far too much of her interest as it was without her being pinned down by the intensity of his wonderful green eyes, framed with the thickest lashes she had ever seen on a man. “Of course, Madame Humphries glowed when she was in a trance but other than that -” she shook her head slowly.
