‘The Sudden Death of Lady Thornthwaite’ FROM THE THORNTHWAITE INHERITANCE BY GARETH P. JONES


Lord Mycroft Thornthwaite had died fi rst very suddenly one Tuesday night after a sumptuous four-course meal with his wife, Lady Martha Thornthwaite, the twins’ mother. The investigating offi cer was DI Lionel Skinner who, having spent his career failing to get promotion in the big city, had recently moved to Hexford County Police in order to become a detective inspector. Following the discovery of a slice of melon meringue wedged in the corpse’s throat, Skinner concluded that Lord Thornthwaite had choked to death.


Lady Thornthwaite’s story supported this conclusion. She claimed to have left the room during dessert to visit the lavatory only to fi nd, upon her return, her husband dead. She said she had heard him coughing from the hallway but assumed he must have lit one of his stinky cigars. They always made him cough, she said. She had no idea he was choking to death.


‘I loved my husband, Inspector Skinner,’ she said. ‘I can’t believe he’s gone.’


The story seemed perfectly plausible until the blood tests came back from the post-mortem of the dead body, fi nding poison in his bloodstream. Further tests revealed traces of the same poison on the dirty dishes upon which the caviar had been served as a starter.


After questioning all the staff , Inspector Skinner learned that Lady Thornthwaite had given them all the night off , even Mrs Bagshaw, the cook, saying she wanted to prepare the meal herself. When asked by the detective, Mr Crutcher was forced to admit that she had access to all the ingredients that made up the poison that killed Lord Thornthwaite.


‘Why did our mother kill our father?’ Lorelli and Ovid had wanted to know.


‘Greed can make people do terrible things,’ Mr Crutcher had replied before continuing with his story.


It was a wild winter’s evening when Mr Crutcher answered the door to DI Skinner and led him to the great hall, where Lady Thornthwaite was waiting, looking every bit the beautiful widow, draped entirely in black.


‘Would you care for a sherry, Inspector?’ she asked. ‘No, thank you, ma’am,’ he replied.


‘You don’t mind if I do, do you?’ she said, pouring herself a glass of sweet sherry from the decanter. ‘Not at all, but I’m sorry to say this is not a social visit.’


Watching her take a sip from the glass, Skinner blurted out, ‘I have evidence to suggest that you murdered your husband.’ Before Lady Thornthwaite could respond, the telephone rang.


72 FIRE & ICE 1


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