‘There most certainly is. There has been an inordinate amount of lying,’ the Queen said. ‘To one’s face, by people who are dear to one, which is quite disturbing. One person has been lying consistently, although I doubt the vicar will have any effect on them. Perhaps they assumed I wouldn’t notice. But as my loft manager says, “people talk”. One tends to spot inconsistencies eventually. And then, there are the dogs.’
‘The dogs, ma’am?’
‘But first there’s the question of Valentine. I wondered at first if the problem was something he’d done, but now we know it’s simply who he is.’
Rozie thought at first that the Boss was referring to his sexuality. This was not a ‘problem’, surely? She was wondering how to disapprove respectfully when the Queen went on:
‘Moira Westover suggested he first got a hint of it at Lee Mundy’s funeral. It must have been quite a shock.’
‘Oh, you mean his paternity. Do you think that’s when Ned told him that he was his father?’ Rozie asked.
‘Actually I don’t. I think Ned was more than happy for it to remain a secret. It suited his purposes well. But Valentine worked it out. Perhaps it was a look Ned gave him, or a gesture they had in common. Anyway, he was right.’
‘You’d think, if you discovered someone was your parent, you’d want to connect, but maybe Valentine
‘Certainly,’ the Queen agreed, without hesitation. ‘There are many things men have done through history for a title. Women, too, of course.’
‘So you think he’s the killer?’ Rozie asked.
The Queen’s gaze was steady and unblinking. ‘No.’
Rozie thought the Boss might be avoiding a delicate issue.
‘I know it’s all circumstantial evidence at the moment,’ she argued. ‘But the circumstances add up, ma’am. They know he had the opportunity, if he worked with his fiancé. We know he had a motive. Surely the police do, too?’
‘And yet . . . there’s nothing to connect him to the murder.’ The Queen explained what the chief constable had told her about the lack of DNA evidence. ‘DNA gives, and it takes away.’
Rozie pursed her lips and frowned.
‘I know you don’t
‘It isn’t that,’ the Queen said. ‘Quite the reverse. But thank you for challenging my argument. It’s what I want you to do. Sometimes I feel too close to this case. I need you to mark my homework.’
‘Oh. OK,’ Rozie said, unable to hide her surprise. This was a new development. Arguing with the Boss might take some getting used to. But if it helped . . .
The Queen invited Rozie to sit down with her, to facilitate conversation and avoid straining her neck. ‘It starts with genetics,’ she said. ‘I, of all people, should understand that better than anyone. An obsession with genetics caused the original crime, but it was love that caused the next one. And carelessness that caused the third.’
‘The third?’ Rozie asked. ‘Do you mean Mrs Raspberry?’
‘No. Although you’re right,’ the Queen acknowledged, ‘it was pure carelessness that caused poor Mrs Raspberry to be knocked over. And a cruel disregard for her life that caused her to be left there. I’ve spoken to Mr Cassidy about it.’
‘You have?’
‘We’ll see what he does. It’s quite obvious that he’s been suffering ever since. Not enough to pay the proper price, however. Not yet, at least.’ The Queen fiddled absently with the arm of her bifocals again. ‘But that was an accident. Nothing surrounding Ned’s death was entirely accidental, by contrast. In fact, it was all meticulously planned. The third victim I’m referring to was Mr Wallace. His death was awful and avoidable. He was only supposed to be distracted, but to drive a man to such despair . . .’
Rozie was losing track. ‘Then who is the second victim, ma’am? I thought he was.’
‘No. The second victim is Ned himself.’
Rozie frowned. ‘Then who’s the first?’
‘Lady Mundy, who died in the summer. But I’m referring to long ago. You might say, Valentine, too. His life was always going to be extremely complicated, through no fault of his own. And I’m sorry to say my friend Georgina was partly responsible. She bred a terrible sense of entitlement into her son. Ned took it out on Lee. I won’t go into details, but Ned used Lee to try and sneak his bloodline back into the barons of Ladybridge. It was a deliberate act. The odds of it working were incredibly slim, and yet, it did. The secret was very well kept until Lee died. Then Ned met the family again and it all started to go wrong.
‘And here we come to the first inconsistency. The St Cyrs told me quite clearly that Ned had offered to go to the funeral. Hugh was very gracious about it. And yet, Astrid Westover and her mother both said how surprised Ned had been to be invited. Did he offer, or was he asked?’
