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I found the two men in an end stall, empty except for the body of Vernon Rigg-Lyon. The men I’d followed were on their haunches, checking the body for signs of life. But I could see without testing for a pulse that he was dead. The captain of the Polo and Gun Club team lay sprawled awkwardly on the straw-covered floor. There was a lot of blood. It matted his hair and streaked the back of his team jersey and the straw.
The older gentleman shook his head. “He’s gone.”
The groom stood, his back to us, and rested a hand against the wall. He lowered his head and sucked in several breaths.
The gentleman rose to his feet. “Broadman, what in God’s name happened here?” Then his gaze dropped to the blood-stained mallet, still clutched in Mr. Broadman’s white-knuckled grip.
Mr. Broadman’s somewhat vacant stare cast down. His fingers sprang apart, and he dropped the mallet. He stumbled backwards, hands in the air. “It wasn’t me! I swear to you, I didn’t do it!”
The gentleman straightened his shoulders and finally addressed me. “Miss, send someone to fetch the police. Tell them we have a suspect in custody.”
Chapter2
Icould hear Mr. Broadman protesting his innocence as I instructed Flossy to ask someone at the clubhouse to telephone the police. She hesitated, and I suspected she was about to insist I leave with her, but one glance at my face changed her mind. She hurried away and I returned inside.
“He was already dead when I came in! I swear to you.” Mr. Broadman could run off and none of us would be able to stop him. He was athletic whereas the groom had a slight limp and the middle-aged gentleman and I were very unlikely to be as quick. “I entered the stall, saw the body and picked up the mallet.”
“Why?” the gentleman demanded.
“I don’t know.” Mr. Broadman tugged on his tie to loosen it. “Good God, Major. Surely you know me well enough to know I wouldn’t kill a man. Not even him.”
The major’s bushy gray moustache moved as he pursed his lips.
“He didn’t do it,” I said. “Not unless he was in the stables earlier.”
All three men looked at me.
“Miss, you shouldn’t be in here.” The man known as Major moved to block my view of the gruesome sight. His tone wasn’t protective, however. It was condescending. “This isn’t a scene young ladies should witness.”
“Let her speak,” Mr. Broadman said. “Go on, Miss…?”
“Cleopatra Fox.”
“Why do you know I’m innocent?”
“The blood has dried, so he died earlier. I assume you are telling the truth and did just arrive here, because your hair is a little damp and you’re wearing a suit, not the uniform you wore when playing. You’ve just come from the changing rooms, haven’t you?”
He nodded with no small measure of relief. “Yes. It’s true. You can ask one of the attendants.”
“Why were you back here?” the major asked. “Hercules is in one of the stalls near the front.”
“I wanted to speak to one of the grooms, but none were about.” He frowned at the groom. The young man studied his feet. “I checked every stall. When I got to this one, I found…” He closed his eyes. “God, it’s awful.”
“Where had the grooms gone?” I asked.
“To the tack and equipment room,” the groom said. “We’ve all been in there for at least the last forty minutes.”
“Surely someone should be seeing to the horses.”
“They have everything they need, miss. I made sure of that before I left. I’d never leave any of them before they were settled.”
“Bert knows his business,” the major assured me.
Mr. Broadman nodded. “I know you care for the animals, Bert.”
The groom looked relieved to be believed.
“Cleo? Are you still in there?” Flossy entered the stables but remained near the door. A handful of staff streamed past her, all talking at once.
