Free Death of a Dishonorable Gentleman by Tessa Arlen Page A

to the house and Mr. Hollyoak came down the stairs and called her into his pantry.
    â€œStrictly between us, Mrs. Jackson, it was Mr. Teddy they found in the wood. Hanged from the large gibbet there, murdered. It’s unthinkable, isn’t it?” Hollyoak prided himself in never betraying emotion, but she heard how shocked he was.
    She felt the last remnants of her energy drop away from her, and the butler’s pantry did a slow, lazy circle and dipped to the right around her. She tried to speak but her voice didn’t rise to the occasion. She heard Mr. Hollyoak say, “Send Dick to the village, tell him to go to Mr. Simkins and ask after Violet. But on no account is he to run around the cottages looking for the girl if she is not with her dad. Not yet. But before you do that, Mrs. Jackson, please attend to the servants, they are running around like a bunch of schoolchildren.”
    â€œWhat will happen now, Mr. Hollyoak?” Finally she found her voice.
    â€œColonel Valentine is to head up an investigation into Mr. Teddy’s murder. His sergeant will arrive shortly to talk to the servants. You had better put him in my pantry, he will need privacy.” She noticed how resigned and tired the butler was despite his correct and impressive comportment. They were old comrades, they understood each other well. She saw that he was coping but it was a struggle.
    When Mrs. Jackson walked into the servants’ hall to find Dick, she was aware that the buzz of gossiping voices, from all the servants gathered there, shut off like water from a tap. She stood in the doorway and stared coldly about the room, catching the eye of major culprits. In her opinion there was no greater crime than gossip about the family, especially with outside valets and maids in the house, and she would be fierce in quelling all offenders.
    As she marshaled the servants into concentrating on their duties, everything was thrown into further disarray with the arrival of Sergeant Hawkins, who had come as part of the police investigation into Mr. Teddy’s murder. She met him at the foot of the back stairs on his arrival and noticed with a sigh of resignation that he was a well-set-up, handsome man in his early thirties, with a glossy black mustache. This was all she needed, she thought. The sergeant would no doubt set the maids twittering through the servants’ hall, adding significantly to the already considerable excitement of the afternoon and her own mounting unease and irritation.
    â€œGood afternoon, Sergeant,” she said as she walked him firmly toward the butler’s pantry, aware of the female heads poking out of scullery, larder, and pantry doorways. “I am Mrs. Jackson, Iyntwood’s housekeeper. I have arranged accommodation for you and your constable overnight in the stable block. The hallboy Dick Wilson will take you over when you are ready to turn in.
    â€œIn the meantime, you are free to use Mr. Hollyoak’s pantry for your interviews. We might have to move you if things go on too long. As you can see, it’s cramped digs down here.”
    She led him back to the butler’s pantry and made sure that he understood he was not to smoke. She was pleased to see that he appeared to be a respectful man, which was a point in his favor, despite his flashy looks.
    Mrs. Jackson had strong nerves and she rarely overreacted to bad news, but when Dick returned from the village to report that Jim Simkins had not seen Violet since his cup of tea with her at the house yesterday, she felt another ripple of acute alarm. She had convinced herself that Dick would come back to the house to reassure her that Violet was with her father.
    Walking through the kitchen to check that preparations for the family’s tea had not been forgotten in the desperate pursuit of information and gossip, she found the footman, John, holding forth self-importantly to a group of kitchen maids.
    â€œShe lost her temper really