The moon was just a sliver in the sky, a fading crescent that would be new in a couple of days, and its feeble light grew and dimmed with the wisps of cloud the night wind blew across it. It shed very little illumination across the garden, which was further shadowed by the bulk of the house and the ten-foot-high enclosing wall.
"You'd need a rope, a ladder, or a partner to get over that wall," I said as we stood at the door. The north and south sides of the manor projected directly back, so that the house surrounded the bulk of the garden on three sides, although there was an extension as well to the west, a kind of "bulge" rather than just a flat wall closing off the U-shape. We were at a door coming from the south wing, from a corridor between the library and what had looked like a ballroom or other reception hall. "It's a job for a group to tackle, not one person, and prepared burglars, not a passing tramp."
Shizuru nodded.
"Yes, this quite supports the assumption everyone made that the Colonel was lying about what he fired at."
"Of course, you knew that already because he questioned all the female servants, and a lone prowler in skirts is even more ridiculous than a lone prowler generally." A woman burglar was far more likely to dress like me than in any way that could be recognized as female at nighttime from Warburton's study window.
"Of course," Shizuru agreed, then threw me a bone. "Still, as Natsuki says, it is only by seeing it ourselves that we can verify that."
"That's not why you're here, though."
"No," she agreed again, "it isn't."
"Miss Warburton said that her father searched the garden after the incident and found no traces. I doubt that there's anything left to see over a week later, particularly not in bad light."
"Not in the way of footprints or broken leaves or that sort of thing," she agreed. "But there's still more to be seen."
I didn't know what she meant, so I looked around to try and see if anything caught my eye. So far as I could tell, the end of the garden by the wall was given over to an herb-garden for the kitchen, while nearer to the house were shrubs and presumably flowering plants, though of course nothing was in bloom at this time of year. A flagstone path crossed the garden from our door to one on the opposite wing, a couple of stately elms provided shade, and a single stone fountain was the only man-made ornament. Thankfully this one was a plain design without statuary; the gargoyle in the front courtyard had been more than enough of that for my taste. The shadows were too thick for me to see the fine details; everything was confined to broad outlines.
Shizuru had helped herself to a lamp that had been on a low table at the corner of the hall, and stepped out ahead of me onto the path.
"Just be careful, okay? I'm not carrying my revolvers, and Warburton's study is outside my derringer's effective range, so we're not going to be able to return fire if he starts shooting again."
She smiled back over her shoulder at me.
"I sincerely hope it will not come to that."
I looked up at the black bulk of the manor house.
"Is it that window, there?" I asked, pointing towards one that was lit on the second floor."
"Yes, I believe so. You'll note that while it commands a view of the entire garden, the trees would prevent someone from seeing either door into the garden from that window." She crouched, letting the light play across the flagstones. "It would be very unlikely that someone would leave tracks so long as they stayed on the path and did not have anything on their shoes. The path runs between the doors and up to the fountain, but the tracks that go to the herb-garden and around the bushes are only dirt and would take footprints."
I eyed the fountain. A person, I thought, could crouch behind it and hide from the study window, although he or she would still be visible from the side wings if anyone was there. And on a night like tonight with little moon, or if it was overcast, a person with dark clothing would be next to impossible to see, particularly with eyes accustomed to the brightness of a lit room. No, the Grange wasn't quite the fortress it appeared, though an outsider would be nearly certain to leave some kind of tracks.
Shizuru straightened up and continued along the path, crossing to the opposite door. It wasn't locked, and our entrance surprised two male servants in the act of cleaning the kitchen of the mess from preparing dinner.
"Forgive us," she said to them and closed the door.
"That settles that," she added to me once we were recrossing the garden. "No one could have left the garden by that door after the shooting incident without being seen."
"Not even another servant? Someone who wouldn't be out of place in the kitchen?"
"No, because even then they'd be seen coming in, and the natural reaction wouldn't be to ignore them but to ask what the shot was, if they were all right, and similar things. The incident would be fixed in their minds."
"Whomever was in the kitchen might have lied to protect a friend."
"When Colonel Warburton dismissed them all, quite possibly without a reference? Ara, but that would be loyalty indeed. No, if there was a figure in the garden, then it left by this door."
We went back into the house and I replaced the lamp.
"So where did it go to?"
"Probably the library," Shizuru decided.
"The library? Why?"
"One end of the secret passage is always in the library."
"Secret—"
"The one that leads to the landing by the study," she elaborated.
"Shizuru, what are you talking about?"
She turned and looked at me with what seemed to be genuine confusion.
"But you said it yourself when we first came here. It was Natsuki who mentioned that this was the kind of house that would have one."
"That was just a comment on its appearance!"
"I really do not understand, Natsuki. You suggest the truth, and you are upset about it."
"Next you'll be telling me that the butler did it!"
"Ashworth? Well, it's not impossible."
I gave up and followed her around the corner to the library. I'd expected to find some sprawling room meant for genteel revelation, with well-padded, leather-upholstered chairs set out before a massive fireplace like the one in the dining room, but that wasn't the case. The ceiling was high like the dining room's and another of the iron chandeliers hung from it, candles flickering, but the room itself was small and lined with bookshelves, a plain wooden table in the center surrounded by four straight-backed chairs. A glance at the bookcases revealed old, faded bindings, with titles in Latin or Greek as often as English. This room wasn't a place to relax, but one for research and study.
Gregory Dashiell looked up as we entered. He had a book in his hands, with cracked red leather binding and rusty iron fittings.
"Ah, Miss Viola, Miss Kuga. Any luck in laying the Colonel's ghost?" he said with an attempt at jovial humor that rang false.
"Mmm, there are some promising leads," Shizuru told him. "But I'm glad to catch up with you, as there is something I wanted to ask you privately."
"I can hardly see what you could have to ask that you couldn't say in front of Laurel and Dr. Brayle."
"Not even the Colonel's opinion of their engagement?"
But Miss Warburton already told us—oh. Thankfully, I didn't say it out loud and so avoided making a fool of myself.
"I see. But I don't see as to how that's any of your concern."
"Anything that relates to the Colonel's behavior is my concern," she replied.
"You can't seriously be accusing Dr. Brayle of—of what? Somehow orchestrating all this?"
"Ara, but that was an interesting conclusion to reach from my question, Mr. Dashiell."
He bristled, his flexing jaw making his beard twitch.
"I can follow an implication easily enough, Miss Viola." In his defense, I had to admit that that one had been pretty obvious. "But if you think Edward Brayle had some reason to bear the Colonel ill will, then you are completely wrong. Among other things Bennet approved of the fact that, like himself, Dr. Brayle wasn't content to wait for an inheritance but made his own way in the world."
"Dr. Brayle comes from a wealthy family, then?"
"Yes. His people have been landowners in Devon since the Glorious Revolution. They came to England with King William. So as you can see, there were no grounds for opposition, whether for personal character, family background, or financial status. Bennet was happy that Laurel had found someone to care for that he freely approved as a son-in-law." His brows grew together. "Now, if that is a sufficient answer, Miss Viola--"
"Actually, I did have one more question," Shizuru took the opening in his literal speech instead of accepting the implied dismissal. Dashiell had already started walking toward the door, and her words jerked him to a stop as if he were a dog that had suddenly reached the limit of its leash.
"What is it?" he snapped.
"As estate manager, you're familiar with the history and architecture of this house, aren't you?"
"Of course."
Ah! She's going to ask him about the secret passage!
"The fountain in the front courtyard, do you know when it was added?"
Wait, what?
At least I wasn't the only one who hadn't expected that question; Dashiell looked at Shizuru like she'd grown a second head.
"The...fountain?"
"Yes, the one with that rather theatrically posed gargoyle."
Dashiell broke into a smile, surprising me.
"Your description is apt, Miss Viola. The fountain was added in the first decade of the century by Colonel Warburton's grandfather. I believe it was done as a folly, to please his wife."
Shizuru beamed at him.
"I thought I recognized the style. Thank you very much."
"You're welcome," he murmured, still confused.
"Thank you for answering my questions. I shan't keep you any longer." She stepped aside, and I followed her example. He took the invitation and left, book in hand. Dashiell didn't shut the door behind him, and I could hear his footsteps recede down the hall. I shut the door anyway, for privacy's sake.
"Shizuru, what does the fountain have to do with anything?"
"Nothing."
"So you just liked the sound of his voice and wanted to hear more of it? Or is it that you wanted to distract him from being angry at you and figured that a question out of thin air would confuse him enough that it would cool his head?"
"Ara, ara, but that would have been clever of me." Which meant that yes, she'd meant it that way. "But I did want an answer to the question, and Dashiell was most likely to know."
"You just said that the fountain has nothing to do with the case."
"Not directly. It is the time of its construction that is significant."
"Shizuru!"
She took pity on me.
"It's the secret passage, Natsuki. If I'm right, it needs to be in a certain place, and there's no point for it to be there."
"I'm not really sure that I understand."
"Secret passages in historical buildings are constructed for a purpose. It might be a hidden vault for secreting treasure from the royal tax collectors or in times of war, it might be a 'priest's hole' or the like for hiding people, it might be an escape route, or it might be a way to arrange secret assignations. In any case, there would be a purpose for its construction. I've deduced the existence of such a passage, but for it to be it where I believe that it is, then either the function of the rooms in the Grange has changed dramatically over the years, which is unlikely, or the passage would have no discernible function."
She was examining the bookcases as she talked, checking the shelves themselves, looking behind books, examining the floor, and so on.
"From the looks of the dining room," I agreed, "the house hasn't made any big changes in centuries."
"I agree."
"So the fountain tells you that you were right—ah!" My spirits rose as I put Shizuru's explanation together with Dashiell's answer and came up with an idea. "A folly! You said that historical secret passages had a purpose, but a folly's different. Someone might just have put a passage in for the hell of it, because having a secret passage in the house would be fun for a certain kind of person." I didn't add, the rich, bored kind with way too little to do, but I thought it. "And you asked about the fountain because while it's creepy, it's not the same kind of creepy as the rest of the Grange, so you figured that it might be a folly, too, and you could ask about it without tipping Dashiell to what you were really asking."
Shizuru turned and gave me a fake pout.
"Natsuki ikezu! How am I going to impress you if you figure these things out on your own?" she said before giving up and smiling. Really, she could be such a child, sometimes! Not that I was any better; I could feel my face reddening—at the compliment? Or the mock-hurt feelings? How pathetic did that make me?
"Trust me, there's all kinds of things that I have no understanding at all about," I groused, seeking refuge in bad temper as I so often did.
"Ah! This sounds hollow!" Shizuru changed the course of the discussion suddenly. She'd moved a couple of books and had knocked against the back side of various shelves. I came over and she knocked again; there was definitely an echo.
"You were right," I said, not particularly surprised.
"Help me figure out how to get it open."
We examined the shelf carefully, looking for buttons or switches, latches that could be turned, or the classic book-affixed-to-switch-that-activates-when-tipped routine. After a couple of moments, I found a carving along the left side that moved. I pulled, finding that it was attached to a metal peg. However, it only pulled out an inch or so and stopped without doing anything.
"What, did they build in fake switches as well?" I said, exasperated.
"Perhaps it's merely locked," Shizuru suggested.
"A locking secret door?" I was incredulous, until I turned to look at her and saw she was holding several books and pointing to the shelf. I looked into the revealed gap and, sure enough, there was a keyhole set into the back of the shelf. "I may have to give up mystery stories, if this is the kind of thing reading them does to a person."
"I know that it may seem humorous, Natsuki, but remember that this is a very serious matter for Colonel Warburton and his family."
"Yeah," I sighed, then repeated, "Yeah. I shouldn't get distracted by a ninety-year-old joke." It was called a folly for a reason—it was supposed to be fun. It wasn't the Colonel's grandparents' fault that the house was now caught up in grimly serious matters.
"Can you open the door?"
"I ought to be able to." I came over next to Shizuru and looked at the lock. It was definitely of better quality than the one on the bedroom door, although not a new Yale or Chubb. I didn't bother trying any skeleton keys this time but instead got out the flat leather case concerning my picks and went to work. Shizuru stood very close to me as I operated on the lock, watching with a fascinated look on her face. It surprised me; her nearness was even a little disconcerting.
"Shizuru?"
She turned to me, smile in place.
"This is fascinating, Natsuki. I really should have you teach me how to do that one of these days. I'm sure that it would come in very handy for me."
"Hey, I have to contribute something to this partnership."
"Ara, then Natsuki considers us partners, then?"
Had I really just said that? Natsuki considers that her mouth sometimes operates without her brain contributing to the conversation. Luckily the last tumbler gave way and the lock came free with a sharp click before I had to figure a way to talk myself out of that one. I went to the other end of the bookcase and pulled on the loose carving. This time the peg came out three full inches and I heard another, louder click as the latch released. The bookshelf swung away silently from the wall.
"Oiled hinges," I said. "This has seen recent use—unless it's just well-maintained by the staff as a matter of course."
The path revealed was short and led to a flight of five or six stairs going up.
"Shall we?" Shizuru invited.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
A/N: I'm rather embarrassed to admit that in my initial draft of this chapter, Natsuki used the expression "a question out of left field." While the dialogue in these stories is, as I've previously indicated, not strictly kept to Victorian standards, I do try to avoid such blatant anachronisms as that one!
A "folly," in the sense that Dashiell describes it, refers to some piece of architectural design that is added on a whim, for artistic or atmospheric purposes. There was quite the fetish in the late 18th and early 19th centuries for "Gothic" follies, including addition of such things as ruined towers (that is, they'd be built brand new but already damaged, as if they were genuine ruins), churches, gargoyles, and other such matters.
A "priest's hole" was a secret room in which Anglo-Catholic families would conceal evidence of their religious practices (including temporary living space for the priest himself!) during the years when it was illegal.