"Why are we here?" Mary whispered to Anna as the two of them crept into the room that housed Cavenham's rather large and, if it were any other day, rather impressive collection of fire arms. They ranged in age from a musket that had a small plaque next to it proclaiming it had been used by Major Arthur Grey during the French and Indian War to rifles better suited for an African safari to more modern weapons.
"Because the gun had to come from somewhere and I have a theory on that," Anna stated. "Nothing about this has made any sense."
"Right… and why is Matthew here?" She gestured behind her, where her husband was looking at the guns with a critical eye.
"Because he wouldn't let us go on our own because we are weak women who can't protect ourselves," Anna stated as she looked at a case.
Matthew glowered at that. "I did NOT say that."
"You implied it."
Mary nodded… she knew why Matthew had come she just wanted to twist the knife a bit. "Then why is Papa- Papa, do keep up!"
"Sorry," her father said, pulling himself away from a case he had been examining that contained… well, Mary wasn't sure what. A gun of some kind. Made for killing. God, this whole affair was going to put her off hunting, wasn't it?
"Robert is here-" and Mary didn't think the giddy little feeling she felt bubble up in her stomach at hearing Anna call papa by his given name would ever go away; how utterly different this second life of hers was that Anna had regular dinners with the Lord of Grantham, "-because we needed an expert on guns."
Papa puffed up a bit at that. "Oh, well I would hardly say I am an expert-"
"We can always get John then," Matthew said with a smirk.
"No no," her father said quickly before adding in a meek little voice like a boy told that he didn't have to go on an adventure if he didn't want to, "I want to help."
"You know," Mary said, "I wasn't aware that Lord Merton was such an avid collector of weapons."
"He isn't," papa stated, stopping to admire another gun. "His father was. An intense collector of them all. Richard though… well, after the Boer War he didn't see the worth in collecting instruments of death. Couldn't get rid of them though, his wife stated it wouldn't be proper. So he kept it as is and then allowed Larry and Tim to maintain and expand the collection when they came of age. But he never showed interest in it. Honestly, I think if he had his way, he would have turned this entire room into a library." He walked over next to Anna. "What is it we are looking for?"
"The gun used to kill Larry Gray."
Mary frowned at that. "Isn't it at all possible that the killer brought the gun with them?"
Anna shook her head. "No, I don't think so. In fact I think shooting Larry was spur of the moment."
Matthew clicked his teeth together. "You think it was done in a moment of passion? No planning?"
"Quite the opposite."
"Anna, darling," Mary pleaded, "what is buzzing about in that mind of yours?"
"When you hunt foxes does the fox stand there and let you shoot him?"
"No… though there are times I wish they would. Dreadful buggers."
Anna smirked at that. "Right. William once told me that when they slaughter chickens right before you take them to the block the birds will throw a fit and no amount of cooing and petting will calm them. They seem to know you are about to hack their heads off."
"Blimey," Papa complained, "is this really the proper conversation for tonight of all nights?"
"I am getting to my point," Anna assured them. "Every living creature has the will to fight. They won't let death come to them with open arms if they have the strength to resist. Larry-" She stopped. "Robert, this case here."
Papa hurried over. The case was a small one, maybe the size of an atlas in terms of length, about a hand tall in height. It was empty save for a soft blue velvet pillow inside. "Yes… I see what you mean…" He leaned down and looked at the paper plaque inside the empty case that described the weapon. "I'd need to see the gun again but I do believe that this is the gun that killed Larry. Or at least it was in here."
"Along with its partner," Anna said. "See the dents on the cushion?"
"Two guns," Mary whispered. "But what does it mean?"
"I have a theory. But for that I need your help again… along with Lady Sybil."
"Why her?" Matthew asked.
"I need to see Larry Gray's room."
~MC~MC~MC~
"Are you sure we should be doing this?" Baxter asked Joseph as they crept through the halls, trying to be as quiet as they could.
"Something isn't right. A man has been killed and I couldn't live with myself if I let them-" He turned a corner and nearly gave a shout only for a firm hand to wrap around his mouth.
"I assume you saw someone dart by?" Thomas Barrow asked in a soft voice once Joseph had surpressed the yelp. Much to Joseph's annoyance and shame Ms. Baxter hadn't so much as flinched. Once he was sure Joseph would yell Thomas let him go and winced. "Sorry about that… I didn't want to let our prey hear us."
Joseph nodded, a bit miffed at the way he'd been grabbed but understanding WHY Thomas had done it. And honestly he was glad he was there as there was a safety in numbers.
General Lothrop's middle child, Jonsey, stepped out of the shadows like some ghoul from a Dickens' tale and nodded towards the hall. "We saw someone rushing rather quickly down there and decided to pursue. Did you see more?"
"It was Larry Gray's valet," Baxter stated. "I remember seeing him in the servant's hall."
"A rat for a weasel," Thomas muttered. "He was always a vile sort."
"Who was a vile sort?"
They all turned to find Mr. Carson and Mr. Oswald standing there.
Thomas only blinked before stating, "Larry Gray's valet, Fletching."
"Ah, yes-" Mr. Carson began before dropping his voice, "yes… him. I remember him well. He made you look like…"
"You?" Thomas teased.
"Yes, actually," Mr. Carson said with a smirk before letting it drop. "What are you all doing here? You were told to remain in your rooms, Mr. Molesley."
Mr. Oswald nodded, glowering at the insult to one of his staff but, oddly, not speaking in the man's favor.
"We spotted Mr. Fletching darting away, with something tucked in his arms. We thought it rather… odd." Joseph shifted, wincing at how that sounded to his ears. "I suppose that was rather foolish."
"With a killer about, yes?" Jonsey said before Mr. Carson could speak. "But noticing that the man was acting odd and had to be dealt with? No, not at all."
"I don't see how I was acting odd," Fletching said, startling them all and making Joseph wonder how everyone kept stumbling upon each other. "I was merely hurrying along. I was unaware I answered to you, sir."
Fletching was a round little man, like someone had taken a sugar cookie and shaped it to look like a person. Thinning hair, pale skin, a face that was a bit too small for his head. Perhaps he might have looked comical or humorous with those features but his attitude all at once ensured that no one could think that way about him. There was a razor's edge to his voice, rather like Thomas' if Joseph was honest, but mixed with the same condescending arrogance that Matthew had mentioned when speaking of the late Larry Gray himself.
"But you do answer to me, Fletching," Mr. Oswald said sternly. "We are a house in mourning and there is a killer on the loose. You will tell us what you were doing and you will do so now."
"I wanted to be alone with my grief, Mr. Oswald, nothing more." Fletching moved forward only for Thomas to step in his way. "Excuse you."
Thomas though merely looked the man up and down. "It's rather like looking at a pale imitation of me, isn't it Mr. Carson? He has that attitude almost right but the charm is utterly lacking."
"I quite agree," Mr. Carson stated. "A lie only works if there is an appeal to go along with the smugness."
Fletching merely stared Thomas down. "Yes… the up jumped servant. I don't take orders from you either and I am quite glad of that. I would ask how you tricked your way into your position but General Lothrop was always a bit slow-"
Jonsey grabbed Fletching by the shoulder, spun him around, and hammered his fist into his stomach.
"HEAVENS!" Baxter cried out, Joseph pushing her behind him as Fletching wretched, doubling over in pain.
"Lord Fredrick!" Mr. Oswald exclaimed as Jonsey removed his coat, tossing it to s a startled Thomas before he rolled up his shirt sleeves.
"Fletching… look at me man." He forced the valet's chin up before backhanding him hard, nearly spending him spinning. "Come now, hold yourself with some dignity. The last time I was beaten like this I managed to smile the entire time." Jonsey's nearly always present smile was gone, leaving only the face of the Angel of Death. He grabbed the man's shoulder and Joseph wasn't sure what he was doing but Fletching began to howl in agony, flailing as he tried to escape. "My father, who you know I love very much, was nearly killed tonight. And you thought it was a good idea to insult him?" He drove his knee into the man's face and Joseph shut his eyes as blood gushed from the valet's nose. "Now… you are going to tell me why you are being a sneaky sort, aren't you?"
"B…bugger off!" Fletching got out and Carson let out a gasp of horror; in any other case Joseph would have found it funny that it was the curse that offended the man more than the beating.
Jonsey sighed. "So uncivilized." He turned to the others, his smile returning but any joy or warmth that might have been in it was gone. Joseph found that all the more terrifying. "Mr. Oswald, would you kindly get Dr. Clarkson? We need to get poor Fletching here patched up. Not right to leave him injured." He bobbed his head back and forth. "The rest of you go with him, just for safeties sake. Thomas, stay there would you? Just for a moment."
Joseph was utterly startled by the sudden change in the younger son of The General and Mr. Oswald clearly was as well. "Of… of course. Come… come along." Joseph nodded, Ms. Baxter grabbing Mr. Carson's arm and lead Downton's butler away. It was only when they had begun to depart that Jonsey spoke again.
"Tell him it is rather serious. Broken clavicle. Shattered ribs. Perhaps a punctured lung." He paused and dread filled Joseph at the injuries he knew Fletching didn't have… at the moment. "Seems he's rather clumsy… made so in his grief. Fell down some stairs."
Fletching let out a whimper as Joseph and the others hurried off.
~MC~MC~MC~
Violet flinched at the rapid banging sound and the cry that filled the air. She was standing in the hall just outside the drawing room, having needed some fresh air. Too many worried bodies had made the atmosphere rather stall for her tastes. "What in the world was that?"
"Nothing," Molesley said quickly as he passed her.
"Someone fell down some stairs," Mary's lady's maid added, looking rather like someone had walked across her grave. Mr. Carson and Mr. Oswald both remained silent but looked just as startled and worried.
There were several more thunderous bangs that filled the air.
"Well… I suppose I won't focus on it then," she said. "Have you seen Mrs. Crawley?"
"Which one," Molesley said with a little smile before shaking his head. "Sorry, poor joke your Ladyship."
"Actually I thought it rather clever. Thank you Molesley. I was referring to Matthew's mother."
Miss Baxter spoke up. "We haven't seen her in a while. We've been Mr. and Mrs. Crawley's room the entire time. Mr. Oswald only just now told us the news."
"Hmmm… she gave me the slip…"
Mr. Bates hobbled over, a sleeping Noah in his arms. "I think I saw her go down that hall."
"Right, would you accompany me, Bates?"
"Us cane users must stick together, shouldn't we?" Bates said as Edith walked over and took the boy, returning to the drawing room with Sir Michael; Noah murmuring in his sleep and John SWORE he said Edith's name much to his announce. Still no 'papa'. When they were alone he whispered, "Do people think you are incapable of anything because of it as well?"
"Why do you think I walk so slowly when people are watching?" she said with a smirk.
"At first it is so bothersome how people want to coddle you," Bates stated to her as they moved down the hall. "But then you see the benefits and you get annoyed when someone doesn't rush to help you."
"And you get such a delight when someone is condescending and you prove you are more fit than them!" Violet said with a titter. "I must say, Mr. Bates, I wasn't sure about Robert's decision to make his relationship with you one that was truly built on friendship but I admit that I was wrong. You… you are good for him. Loyal but I think you are just honest enough to tell him when he's making a grave mistake while allowing him to make and learn from the little ones."
"It is a balance one must have, I admit," Bates said as they came to a half opened door. "I-"
They stopped as they heard wet sounds coming from the room and Bates held up his hand, Violet suddenly remember that this wasn't a fun little excursion but rather them walking through a house where someone had murdered one person and nearly killed another. Tensing she twisted the head of her cane as Bates poked his head around the door, ready to attack… only for the man to quickly pull his head out and quietly shut the door, motioning for her to follow him.
Confused, Violet followed as he led her away, brow furrowed. "Whatever is the matter?"
"I thought it best to allow Mrs. Crawley to… comfort…. Lord Merton in peace."
"…ah," Violet said. "Well, I am not sure if the timing is proper but grief does cause people to need connections. And frankly it has been sickening to go to London and have dinner with those two and see them dancing about what is so obvious."
Bates merely raised an eyebrow at that before he saw Sybil hurry past.
"Whatever has you in a rush?" Violet asked.
"Oh… Anna has asked for me."
"Anna?" Bates said, suddenly worried. "Is she alright?"
"Oh, just fine. She wants to meet in Larry Gray's room."
"Whatever for?" Violet asked.
Sybil shook her head, bemused. "It appears her and Mary have decided to solve the mystery that plagues us since the police are indisposed."
Violet considered that. "Well… I have always said that a good mind can do anything and Mary does have a sharp one. Mr. Bates, care to join us?"
"Why not?" Bates said and the three of them hurried up the stairs, joining Mary, Anna, Robert, and Matthew outside of Larry's door. "Is everything okay?" Bates asked his wife as Sybil took out the key to the door and unlocked it; Lord Merton had given one to her and one to Dr. Clarkson, just in case they needed to see the body.
Much to everyone's surprise she held up a hand. "I need to think," she said firmly before going inside.
The room looked rather normal at first as Violet looked about with the only sign that something terrible had happened being the blood stain, small as it was, on the floor. However, as she looked about Violet noticed other things. A tipped over glass. A hole in the wallpaper. The soaked floor. And of course the large lump on the bed, covered in a sheet.
Violet was no stranger to death. When one got to her age Death became an old friend, constantly visited to take away other friends. But that didn't mean she liked being next to the remains of one of his visits.
Thankfully Anna doesn't move towards the bed but rather the blood spot on the ground, staring at it before she grabs a chair and moves it near the stain. "His wheelchair was here?" she asked a clearly confused Sybil.
"Uh… yes, yes it was," she said.
"Facing the window?"
"Right."
Anna nodded and walked along the floor towards the wall to the left of the chair, running her fingers along its surface. "Sybil, John, please check the glasses. Is there a powder in one of them?"
Violet didn'tt like where this entire situation was going but she finds herself rooted in place, forced to watch as her granddaughter and the former valet walked over to a bottle of wine that was set up on the table, lifting up the glasses and inspecting the bottoms. Sybil reached into one and runs her finger along it, revealing a fine white film that shouldn't have been there.
"Yes," Sybil said as Anna continued to look over the wall.
"He was drugged," Mary said.
"Wouldn't be the first time," Sybil muttered though before Violet could ask what she meant Anna was speaking again.
"As I said, people will fight to stay alive. So how do you make it look like someone killed themselves? You ensure that they can't fight back."
Now Bates was shifting oddly and Violet was wondering what in the good Lord's name was going on.
Matthew rubbed his chin. "So someone wants to make it look like Larry Gray killed himself. They drug him-"
Sybil chimed in. "There are medicines that cause one to become listless. Slow the heart, dull the senses..."
"The blood on the floor… there is too little for a gunshot wound," Matthew said. "But if something was causing his heart to slow…"
"Any that would cause mood swings at first?" Violet found herself asking. The others turned towards her and she gave a slight shrug. "Isobel and I happened upon Larry and Lord Merton fighting in his room; they didn't see us but we heard it. Larry sounded… rather aggravated."
"There are a few," Sybil said. "Especially-"
"The hospital," Matthew blurted out.
Robert frowned. "What am I missing?"
Sybil answered. "There was a medicine we gave some of the soldiers to help them sleep. They'd have terrible nightmares so we'd give it to them so they would rest. But if it were combined with wine it would cause an explosive outburst for a short while. Screaming, yelling, paranoid delusions…"
Mary shook her head. "And Larry already had those if the testimony William gave was accurate. Who would notice a bit more, especially when he was already stressed because of his coming exile?"
"Exactly," Anna said as she continued to keep her back to them, rubbing her hands along the walls. "Someone comes in, offers Larry a drink. He takes it and has his fight with Lord Merton and then drifts to sleep right in his chair. The poison begins to slow his heart… Lady Sybil, an overdose?"
"Deadly," Sybil confirmed. "The heart just… stops."
Anna nodded before patting the wall. "John, come here."
"Yes?" her husband asked.
"Keep your hand right here, I don't want to lose my spot," Anna said. Bates did as he was told and Anna moved to the doorway, walking towards the chair. She seemed to not really notice where she was, her mind activate and whirling. It was actually rather impressive. "The killer comes in when they know that Larry will be asleep and vulnerable. Possibly hoping he's already dead. He might very well have been. They go to the window and open it."
"Why?" Mary asked.
Sybil was the one that answers. "The cold. If a body is cold enough it can make it hard to determine when they died." She paused. "But if someone were to truly want to fool a doctor they should warm the body. Cold will make it seem like it came sooner. I know some have claimed it is the reverse-"
Anna nodded, cutting her off. "I was wondering about that… thank you, that fills in another piece." Violet could only watched, amused, as the former maid took command of the room. "The killer goes up to Larry and places the gun at his head… but that's when they are interrupted."
"Lillian," Matthew whispers.
The little girl frowned, staring at the stranger as he leaned over the man in the wheelchair that had been being rather loud. She had come to tell him to be quiet, the baby was trying to sleep and babies needed sleep, but it seemed like someone else had-
A crack of thunder filled the air and Lillian screamed in fright; loud noises always scared her.
The stranger jumped at that too… there was another bang… and they turned towards her.
"Something caused her to leave the nursery. It doesn't matter. What does is that she came in here and stumbled on the killer. And if I am right…" she walked back up to the wall. "Caused them to fire off a shot."
"Oh, that's what you are looking for?" Violet said, marching over and pointing to the small hole she had noticed. "I saw that the moment I came in."
"Mama!" Robert exclaimed. "However did you see that?"
"Just because you don't notice your surroundings, Robert…"
Anna began speaking again, heading out of the room. "The killer chases after Lillian who is scared by the gunshot and rushes to the nursery. He attacks the nanny but Lillian continues to run, finding the General…"
"Run Lillian!" The nice old man roared, pushing the little girl behind him. "Run!" He braced himself and the stranger came at him, grabbing at him. Lillian did as she was told, darting away as quick as her little feet could carry her.
"The killer and Allen grappled. He got the gun but in the process he fell over the balcony. The killer was going to retrieve it but then Lady Grantham found Allen. The killer joined with the rest of us but the first chance he could he broke away. He went to the armory room and took an exact replica of the gun Allen had and hurried back to the room. He killed Larry and then was going to replace the weapon later but someone or something stopped him."
Mary shook her head. "Crikey. It's like something out of Doyle."
Anna nodded. "I think I know who did this… but I can't say. Not without proof. And right now that means finding Lillian." She turned to her husband. "Noah didn't say anything?"
"Other than he was worried," Bates admitted. "I left him with Edith… maybe she can coax something out of him. He trusts her."
"Well, if he can't be with us-"
Anna froze.
"What is it?" Violet asked.
Anna though began to run.
The others were forced to give chase and to their surprise Anna made for where the General had been put up. She knocked on the door and called out, "Its Anna Bates! I need in right now!"
There was a pause and then the General's daughter opened the door. "What is-
Anna hurried past her, nearly bowling her over. "Children seek out comfort when they are scared. Lillian was frightened and her parents weren't available… so she sought out the person that had proven he'd protect her.
With that she dropped to her knees and lifted up the bed skirt.
Lillian's wide eyes stared back at them from the darkness.
Her bad hip be damned Violet was instantly on the ground. "Come to grandmamma, sweetheart," she whispered and Lillian instantly burst from under the bed, clinging to Violet as she shook like a leaf, sobbing in relief against her shoulder. It was so worng… Lillian had never really cried as a baby but now… "We have you, we have you," she whispered, Robert coming to kneel beside her, rubbing Lillian's back as the poor girl hiccupped.
They must have been like that for a while as suddenly Cora was there, Matthew breathless, and Lillian was passed to her mother who rocked her back and forth.
"Poor darling," Bates murmured as the Lothrops stared at the scene. "Smart though. This is the one place the killer would never be able to get into easily. She was completely safe. She must have snuck in during the confusion of getting the General up here and hide under the bed. She knew he would protect her, even now."
Anna nodded, walking up the Cora and Lillian. "Hi," she said softly, smiling. "I'm Noah's mama." Lillian slowly pulled her face from Cora's shoulder, face wet from her tears. "Lillian… I'm going to whisper something to you and if I'm right you just have to nod, okay?" The little girl swallowed and Anna leaned in, saying… something… and Lillian let out a whimper before nodding. "Lady Grantham, stay here with Lillian. Lady Audrey," she looked to Allen's daughter-in-law, "if anyone tries to get in…"
"They die," the woman said, proving that even if not by blood she was a Lothrop.
"What is going on?" Marry asked.
Anna marched out of the room. "I know who the killer is."
