Read Online Murder at Newstead Abbey by Joan Smith - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Joan Smith
Tags: regency mystery
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skull cup, and the vicar’s warning.
Luten listened with interest, nodding but in no very condemning way. A few tsk’s and a tolerant shake of the head were his only chastisement. Prance felt he would not have accepted the orgy so mildly if it had been anyone but Byron confessing. It would be interesting to see which gentleman ended up leading the other. Perhaps the surrogate son would lead the father astray.
“Well, as you say your wild oats are sown, let’s not harp on it,” Luten said, when the confession was done. “But it’s hard to believe a vicar is leading a hunting party against you.”
“I don’t believe either shot was meant for me,” Byron said.
Coffen listened, with a frown creasing his brow. “I don’t either,” he said. “I’m pretty sure the fellow got a look at my face. He flashed the lantern right at me before he shot, and it’s not likely he’d mistake me for Byron. Just to make sure all our p’s and q’s are crossed, let’s not rule out the shot could’ve been aimed at me. Now the only person I can think of that’d want me dead is Vulch. He knows I’m staying here. He knows I was asking about him at the Green Man, and he didn’t like it. It don’t explain that shot in the spinney, but that could’ve been an accident.”
After a little more discussion, they all agreed this was possible. Luten warned Coffen to be careful in future.
“I will,” Coffen said, “but it’s good news in a way.”
“No really! We don’t dislike you that much, Coffen,” Prance said in a joshing way.
Coffen glared. “How sharper than a serpent’s tongue it is, as you would say, Prance.”
“I assure you I would never misquote William in such a well-known phrase.”
To put an end to the squabble, Luten said, “I trust you didn’t mean you’re eager to die, Coffen?”
“Of course not. What I mean is, it looks like Vulch is worried I’ll find out something about that body we dug up this morning, which means he’s involved. Lady Richardson thinks it’s Vulch’s wife. If it is, who’s likelier to have killed her than Vulch, for carrying on with some other fellow? Shot her, stripped off her clothes that might give away it’s her if she was found, buried her on the island and let on she’d run off on him. The timing seems about right. It happened long ago, but not long ago enough to completely destroy the corpse. And there’s a kooey bono in it as well, for it was her that owned the cottage, and now it’ll be his.”
“I’ll report this attack to Eggars in the morning,” Byron said.
“I'd rather you not,” Coffen said at once. “If he goes badgering Vulch, Vulch’ll know we’re on to him. What we’ll do is spread some red herrings, let on we think the body is somebody else to put Vulch off his guard.”
“I’d like to get it cleared up as soon as possible, before it turns into another legend of the mad Byrons,” Byron said.
“We will,” Coffen assured him. “Rome wasn’t burnt in a day, and neither will your name be.”
“I don’t think the body was Minnie’s, though,” Byron said. “The hair was too light, and the teeth — “ He paused a moment, frowning in memory.
“Well, p’raps it’s some other girl Vulch shot,” Coffen said. “He’s a wrong one, and to judge by what I saw and heard when I followed him, he likes the petticoat brigade. He’s mixed up in it somewhere, or my name’s not Jack Robinson. I say we let him think he’s safe, so as to catch him off his guard.”
Byron looked a question at Luten. “I’ll go along with Coffen,” Luten said.
“I daresay you’re right, Mr. Robinson,” Prance added, peering about to see if anyone smiled. They didn’t. It did not escape Prance’s attention that Byron had agreed at once with Luten. They didn’t even glance at him to see his opinion. It was Coffen who said, “You’ll keep it quiet as well, Prance?” Prance didn’t reply. He was too busy sulking.
----
Chapter 7
“Why didn’t
Luten listened with interest, nodding but in no very condemning way. A few tsk’s and a tolerant shake of the head were his only chastisement. Prance felt he would not have accepted the orgy so mildly if it had been anyone but Byron confessing. It would be interesting to see which gentleman ended up leading the other. Perhaps the surrogate son would lead the father astray.
“Well, as you say your wild oats are sown, let’s not harp on it,” Luten said, when the confession was done. “But it’s hard to believe a vicar is leading a hunting party against you.”
“I don’t believe either shot was meant for me,” Byron said.
Coffen listened, with a frown creasing his brow. “I don’t either,” he said. “I’m pretty sure the fellow got a look at my face. He flashed the lantern right at me before he shot, and it’s not likely he’d mistake me for Byron. Just to make sure all our p’s and q’s are crossed, let’s not rule out the shot could’ve been aimed at me. Now the only person I can think of that’d want me dead is Vulch. He knows I’m staying here. He knows I was asking about him at the Green Man, and he didn’t like it. It don’t explain that shot in the spinney, but that could’ve been an accident.”
After a little more discussion, they all agreed this was possible. Luten warned Coffen to be careful in future.
“I will,” Coffen said, “but it’s good news in a way.”
“No really! We don’t dislike you that much, Coffen,” Prance said in a joshing way.
Coffen glared. “How sharper than a serpent’s tongue it is, as you would say, Prance.”
“I assure you I would never misquote William in such a well-known phrase.”
To put an end to the squabble, Luten said, “I trust you didn’t mean you’re eager to die, Coffen?”
“Of course not. What I mean is, it looks like Vulch is worried I’ll find out something about that body we dug up this morning, which means he’s involved. Lady Richardson thinks it’s Vulch’s wife. If it is, who’s likelier to have killed her than Vulch, for carrying on with some other fellow? Shot her, stripped off her clothes that might give away it’s her if she was found, buried her on the island and let on she’d run off on him. The timing seems about right. It happened long ago, but not long ago enough to completely destroy the corpse. And there’s a kooey bono in it as well, for it was her that owned the cottage, and now it’ll be his.”
“I’ll report this attack to Eggars in the morning,” Byron said.
“I'd rather you not,” Coffen said at once. “If he goes badgering Vulch, Vulch’ll know we’re on to him. What we’ll do is spread some red herrings, let on we think the body is somebody else to put Vulch off his guard.”
“I’d like to get it cleared up as soon as possible, before it turns into another legend of the mad Byrons,” Byron said.
“We will,” Coffen assured him. “Rome wasn’t burnt in a day, and neither will your name be.”
“I don’t think the body was Minnie’s, though,” Byron said. “The hair was too light, and the teeth — “ He paused a moment, frowning in memory.
“Well, p’raps it’s some other girl Vulch shot,” Coffen said. “He’s a wrong one, and to judge by what I saw and heard when I followed him, he likes the petticoat brigade. He’s mixed up in it somewhere, or my name’s not Jack Robinson. I say we let him think he’s safe, so as to catch him off his guard.”
Byron looked a question at Luten. “I’ll go along with Coffen,” Luten said.
“I daresay you’re right, Mr. Robinson,” Prance added, peering about to see if anyone smiled. They didn’t. It did not escape Prance’s attention that Byron had agreed at once with Luten. They didn’t even glance at him to see his opinion. It was Coffen who said, “You’ll keep it quiet as well, Prance?” Prance didn’t reply. He was too busy sulking.
----
Chapter 7
“Why didn’t
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