Page 12 of Miss Morton and the Missing Heir (A Miss Morton Mystery #4)

“Will you ask if she is still willing to see Inspector Ross at two?” Caroline rose to her feet. “I’d hate to waste his time.”

Mrs. Frogerton stood, too, and smiled at Caroline. “I don’t think he ever minds visiting here, lass, but I’ll ask.” She sighed. “Mrs. Scutton’s the one I have the most sympathy for. Watching her daughter being murdered right in front of her …” She shook her head.

“I quite agree, ma’am.” Caroline walked with her to the door. “I’ll speak to Cook and make sure she sends up something pleasant for Mrs. Scutton’s midday meal.”

Inspector Ross returned promptly at two, and Caroline took him up to Mrs. Scutton’s bedchamber. Mrs. Frogerton was enjoying a quiet nap with her dogs.

“Good afternoon, ma’am.” Inspector Ross bowed to Mrs. Scutton, who was sitting up in bed with her pillows stacked behind her.

Both her hands were still bandaged, and she was very pale.

“I can offer only my sincere condolences for the loss of your daughter and my promise that I will do everything in my power to find the culprit and bring him to justice.”

“Thank you, Inspector.” Mrs. Scutton’s voice was still hoarse from screaming. “Please sit down.”

Inspector Ross took the seat next to the bed and Caroline sat on the dressing-table chair near the window. She’d spent a lot of time tending to Mrs. Scutton since Mary’s murder and knew she was grieving profoundly for her daughter’s loss.

Inspector Ross took out his notebook and pen. “I realize this will be difficult for you, ma’am, but the better the information you give me, the easier it will be to solve this dreadful crime.”

Mrs. Scutton nodded. “I will do my best, sir. Although I must admit that some matters are rather hazy in my mind.” She hesitated. “At times it felt like a terrible nightmare from which I couldn’t wake up.”

“Perhaps you could tell me what happened in your own words, and I’ll take notes. If I require any clarification, I’ll ask you for it.”

Mrs. Scutton’s gaze went past the inspector and fastened on Caroline before moving back to her hands, which were clasped on the coverlet in front of her.

“Mary and I hadn’t been on the best of terms. I was vexed at Thomas for paying off Albert’s debts, but Mary rebuffed my concerns. My fears were justified when Albert turned up here and threatened us. Mary thought it all a big joke.” Mrs. Scutton looked down at her bandaged hands.

“And what happened on the evening your daughter died, ma’am?” Inspector Ross prompted her.

“Mary refused to come down to dinner, and I decided to go and speak to her after we’d left the gentlemen to their port.” Mrs. Scutton glanced at Caroline. “Miss Morton was present at the time.”

“Yes, I can confirm Mrs. Scutton was concerned for her daughter and went up to see her after the ladies withdrew from the dining room.”

“Thank you, my lady.” Inspector Ross wrote something in his notebook. “What happened when you went into your daughter’s room, ma’am?”

Mrs. Scutton’s hand fluttered to her throat.

“I opened the door. Mary wasn’t in bed but was standing against the wall facing two men.

It sounds ridiculous now, but it took me a moment to comprehend what I was seeing.

Mary looked over at me, and I realized she was terrified.

She said …” Mrs. Scutton swallowed hard.

“… ‘Help me.’ Then Albert turned to look at me, and I saw the knife in his hand and moved toward him.” Mrs. Scutton moistened her lips.

“It all happened so quickly . One moment he was jeering at me, the next … the light was flashing on the blade as he drove it into Mary’s chest and throat.

She screamed and fell back onto the bed, blood pouring out of her, while Albert stood over her laughing, and … I must have attacked him.”

Caroline got up and poured Mrs. Scutton a glass of water, which she took with a shaking hand. “Thank you, my dear.”

“And what happened after that?” Inspector Ross asked gently.

“George Brigham started urging his brother to leave, and I tried to stop them.” Mrs. Scutton shook her head. “I was so angry I wanted to hurt them both, but even though I tried my best, George easily shook me off, and they ran away, leaving me screaming on the floor.”

“I arrived shortly after I heard the screaming, Inspector,” Caroline said. “And found Mrs. Scutton in the open doorway.”

“Did the younger Mr. Brigham participate in the attack?” Inspector Ross looked up from his note-taking.

“Only by being present and not stopping his brother, until it was too late,” Mrs. Scutton said. “He must have known Albert had a knife with him.”

“He didn’t interfere at all?”

“No.”

“Do you think he was shocked by what his brother did?”

“I don’t know.” Mrs. Scutton considered the question. “I must confess that he was the least of my concerns when my daughter was dying in front of me.”

Caroline was almost pleased to see Mrs. Scutton regain some of her feistiness as she answered Inspector Ross. She’d been in a daze since the tragedy, barely managing to eat or find the energy to leave her bed.

“Thank you, ma’am.” Inspector Ross finished writing and closed his book.

“You have been most helpful in very difficult circumstances. Mr. Scutton has provided me with descriptions of the Brigham brothers, which will be circulated widely through London and beyond. I am confident that they will be found.”

“Unless they’ve gone abroad,” Mrs. Scutton said as she sipped her water. Caroline was relieved to see some color had come back into her face.

“The major ports have been alerted, ma’am.”

“I think they have family in Ireland.”

“I’ll make sure to add that to my notes.” Inspector Ross got to his feet and bowed. “Thank you again, Mrs. Scutton. I will do my best to apprehend these felons and bring them to justice.”

He left, and Caroline went to Mrs. Scutton’s side. “You were very brave, ma’am.”

“I should have realized what Albert was capable of and made sure he couldn’t get near my beautiful daughter.” Tears slid down her cheeks. “I failed her.”

“No, ma’am.” Caroline took Mrs. Scutton’s trembling hand in hers. “Mr. Brigham failed to live up to basic standards of human decency and deliberately took a life. The responsibility is entirely his.”

“I never liked him,” Mrs. Scutton continued. “He was such a bad influence on her.”

Caroline gave Mrs. Scutton her clean handkerchief and poured her another glass of water.

“My mother’s family heartily disliked my father and only agreed to the marriage because my mother was besotted with him,” Caroline said. “That didn’t work out happily for her, either.”

“At least he didn’t murder her.” Mrs. Scutton dabbed her cheeks.

“No.” Caroline had no answer for that. Draining the life, hope, and love from someone until they no longer wished to live was painful to watch, but not murder. She rose to her feet. “I’ll ask Lizzie to bring you up some tea, ma’am.”

“Thank you.” Mrs. Scutton eased back against her pillows. “I think I need to rest.”