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“It wasn’t one of us!” Bert piped up. “We left here at three-fifty.”
“Then it was committed in the time between the grooms leaving the stables for the tack room and some time before Mr. Broadman arrived. I’m not sure how long it takes for blood to dry in weather like this, but I suspect a pool that size would take at least twenty or thirty minutes.” I removed my watch from my bag and checked the time. “The murder was committed after three-fifty, when the grooms left, and no later than ten-past-four, which is approximately twenty minutes before Mr. Broadman shouted; long enough for the blood to dry.”
“A twenty-minute window for which I have an alibi.” Mr. Broadman pointed to Sid, standing beside the groom.
We all turned towards the door where someone was shouting to be let through. Mr. Hardwick, the retiring vice-captain of the winning team, entered the stables. His breathing was ragged and his brow shiny. “Someone said Vernon is dead.” He peered past us. “Is it true?”
The major clasped Mr. Hardwick’s arm. “He’s been murdered.”
Mr. Hardwick covered his mouth with his hand. He stared wide-eyed at the major and shook his head over and over.
“Is Mrs. Rigg-Lyon still here?”
“She didn’t want to wait and went home straight after the presentation.” Mr. Hardwick winced as a painful thought struck him. “I’ll call on her now. It’s going to be dreadful.”
“Go inside and have a snifter of brandy first. I’ll join you when the police get here.” Major Leavey made a shooing motion. “In fact, I think everyone should get out. I’ll stand guard to make sure the scene isn’t disturbed. Broadman, take Hardwick inside. You there!” he shouted at the staff. “Back to work. This isn’t a show.”
I joined Mr. Liddicoat as we followed Bert, Mr. Hardwick and Mr. Broadman out of the stables. The groom stopped at one of the stalls to check on a black horse. I recognized it as the one the victim rode in the match. It paced the floor and tossed its head, snorting loudly.
Bert opened the stall door. “Easy, Panther.” He tried to get close enough to stroke the horse, but Panther was too restless. “It’s all right, boy. It’ll be all right.”
“Poor thing,” Mr. Liddicoat said as we continued. “He must know. They say animals sense these things.”
Mr. Hardwick ran his hand through his hair and muttered, “I can’t believe it. Who would do such a thing?”
Mr. Broadman handed him a handkerchief since Mr. Hardwick wore no jacket or hat. Mr. Hardwick used it to wipe his brow.
“I can’t believe it either,” Mr. Liddicoat said to me. “Were you nearby, Miss Fox? Is that how you got here so quickly?”
“I wasn’t far away. And you? Did you hear your cousin’s shout?”
He nodded but seemed distracted. He suddenly stopped. “I saw someone in the vicinity during that window of opportunity. I remember him, because he didn’t seem to be staff, a player or a spectator. He wore a long coat, you see, and a bowler hat rather than a boater. Who wears a long coat in this weather, Miss Fox?”
Someone who didn’t want to be identified.
Someone who didn’t want their clothing covered in blood when they bludgeoned a man to death.
“Were there any distinguishing features? His height? Gait?”
“The coat was brown and there were black patches on the elbow.”
Floyd had joined Flossy and they both waited for me. Flossy took my hand when I reached them. “Are you all right, Cleo? Did you see him?”
Sometimes a little white lie is better for everyone. “I stayed well away.”
She eyed me skeptically.
“The automobile is ready,” Floyd announced.
“Just a moment.” I’d spotted Sid, the elderly changing room attendant, walking slowly away from the stables on his own. Everyone else was ahead of him, so I could ask him a question without being overheard.
I approached him and introduced myself, even going so far as to say I was a private detective. His only reaction was to remove his cap and scratch his balding head.
“Are you the only attendant in the changing rooms?” I asked.
“Aye, miss.”
“That’s eight players whose needs you must see to.”
