Read The Peculiar Case of Lord Finsbury's Diamonds: A Casebook of Barnaby Adair Short Novel (The Casebook of Barnaby Adair) for Free Online Page A

quick grin flashed across Culver’s face, then they all rose.
     Stokes showed Culver to the door, sent Duffet to fetch Miss Finsbury, and returned to his seat behind the desk.
     While they waited for Gwendolyn Finsbury, Barnaby replayed and dissected Culver’s replies. Eventually, he met Stokes’s gaze. “Unless Miss Finsbury is an accomplice, it wasn’t Culver.”
     Stokes nodded. “But what he told us is going to make questioning and assessing the others easier—he’s made it clear what questions we need to ask.”
     Barnaby listed them on his fingers. “One—did they know anything of Mitchell before the house party? Two—did they know he was returning not simply yesterday, but specifically yesterday afternoon? Three—are their alibis for yesterday afternoon vouched for by others? Four—what did they know about the diamonds? And five—did they learn anything at all about Mitchell from the man himself while he was here?” Barnaby paused, then glanced at Stokes. “Is that it?”
      “Hmm…most of it.” Stokes leaned back. “There’s also the matter of access to the foot-trap and the hoop-hammer, but, if I understood correctly, other than Rattle, most of those here have visited many times over the years—they might have stumbled on the trap and the hammer at any time. And, of course, there’s all the staff—we have to assume that any of them would have known where to find both items.”
     Barnaby snorted. “Death by hoop-hammer—that’s doubtless a first.”
     Stokes grunted. “Given the way some of those old ladies play croquet, I wouldn’t be too sure of that.”
     A tap on the door heralded the arrival of Gwendolyn Finsbury. While she was understandably a touch nervous, she made a determined bid to hold her head high—and exonerate Frederick Culver at every turn.
     Other than confirming, had they been in any doubt, that she was in love with Culver, her statements added nothing of moment to Culver’s observations.
     Barnaby resisted the urge to ask Gwendolyn if she had done anything to encourage Mitchell—instead, he asked Agnes Finsbury, Gwendolyn’s aunt.
     Only to receive a very firm “No.” Agnes paused, then added, “I have to admit I did wonder whether Mitchell’s polish—he really was very charming when he set himself to it—would sway Gwen, but she never looked away from Frederick, not even for a second. I have no difficulty imagining Mitchell seeing her lack of response as a challenge, but he took things far too far. I was exceedingly grateful that Frederick stepped in.”
     “Did either of the other young ladies show any susceptibility to Mitchell’s charms?” Stokes asked.
     Agnes considered, then shook her head. “Not that I saw. Juliet is spoken for, and her mind is constantly engaged with planning her future with Jeremy Finch. As for Harriet, she seems entirely happy with Mr. Rattle and I saw no evidence of any falling out there—and I’m sure I, or Mrs. Pace, or Mrs. Shepherd would have noticed if there had been.”
     Unlike Culver and Gwendolyn, Agnes had been alone in her private sitting room through most of the previous afternoon, doing the accounts and organizing the coming week’s menus. “Given the circumstances of our parting, I had no interest in speaking with Mitchell again, and Gwen had told me that Frederick would stay with her throughout any meeting—and Frederick, dear boy, had reassured me of that.”
     They let Agnes go. She was replaced by Algernon Rattle, who provided a breath of fresh air with his bright and breezy style, but when they distilled all he said, it amounted to nothing more than confirmation of what their previous interviewees had told them—except for one point. When asked for his assessment of Mitchell, Rattle scratched his head, then opined, “A good enough sort, don’t you know, but…well, there was just something that didn’t quite sit right. I asked him where he hailed from, and he never quite answered, so I