Death at Balfefield Abbey

Chapter 12, Cashelroe, 1903

Mrs. Bennett began her tour of the house with the kitchen and staff quarters situated at the back of the building. There she introduced Keating to the cook, Mrs. O'Brien, who was in the process of plucking a couple of chickens. As he had done with Kate, Keating asked the cook to recall the events surrounding the discovery of Arabella Darley's body but found she added little to the knowledge he had already gained beyond the fact the terrified cries of Kate made the woman leap out of bed while grasping for her rosary beads and thinking the house must be on fire or under some sort of attack.

When the cook returned to her duties, Keating asked Mrs. Bennett. "How many staff in total?"

"Currently, there are four of us who live on the premises, all of whom you have now met, and Mrs. McCarthy, a charwoman who resides in the town and comes here on workdays."

"Who is responsible for the laundry?"

"We send that to the laundress in the town. It's collected from here each Tuesday and brought back every Thursday."

"It must be a large undertaking for a house of this magnitude."

"Indeed, it is. It requires all our involvement. Albert, Kate, Mrs. O'Brien, and myself. We gather up the various items throughout the house and load them into baskets to await collection."

"Who maintains the records to ensure all items dispatched for cleaning are returned?"

"I do. I compile laundry lists for that very purpose and keep them in a record book. Do you wish to see it?"

"Yes, and I may need to take it with me."

"As you wish, Inspector, though I struggle to understand how such mundane details could aid your investigation."

They found Albert reading a newspaper in the servant's hall. Like Mrs. O'Brien, Keating's questions only confirmed what he had already learned from others. Until Kate came screaming up the stairs on the morning of Thursday, 10th of July, it was expected to be a day like any other at Balfefield Abbey.

Mrs. Bennett led him, as he followed that graceful, leisurely walk of hers, from the staff quarters through to the main parts of the house. By the time they ventured upstairs, it seemed to Keating an even larger house than he had supposed when viewing it from the outside. He also found he could not help but be impressed not only by how the many rooms were expensively and tastefully decorated, but also by Mrs. Bennett's knowledge of the themes, décor, and artworks of the larger, more public rooms, as revealed by her unpretentious yet mildly, derisive commentaries.

Arabella Darley's bedroom was a spacious affair, well-lit by two large windows that opened onto a balcony. The bed was an intricately carved, wooden four-poster with a fringed canopy and deep, luxuriant bedding.

Keating opened a door on one side of the room and found a walk-in wardrobe containing only female clothing.

"Did she and Captain Darley always maintain separate bedrooms?"

"They did while they lived here," said Mrs. Bennett, as she took the opportunity to sit upon the upholstered settle at the end of the bed. "Separate bedrooms have always been a fashion among the upper classes," she continued. "Are you a married man, Inspector? You do look as if you are in want of someone to take care of you, so I take you for a single man. Am I right?"

Keating looked down and wondered about that cautious, barely perceptible smile of hers. He found it attractive and yet, he realized, the mirth it hinted at might well be at his own expense. He turned and walked towards a dressing table with a large mirror and asked, over his shoulder, "Was her bed disturbed on the night of her murder?"