Chapter 15 #2
Warned by the maid who answered her bell that “her ladyship’s in a proper taking,” Daisy toyed with the notion of breakfast in bed.
She dismissed it as cowardly. Geraldine was her cousin’s wife, and the whole show had been her idea. It was up to her to smooth ruffled feathers.
Besides, she had to find out what had happened last night.
Worry had stopped her going back to sleep, though it was still quite early.
She had a sinking feeling that if Gloria had been rescued, she would have heard about it by now; but the others might hesitate to disturb her after yesterday’s ordeal.
Actually, she felt perfectly well. The stiffness was not much worse than after the first day’s bicycling. Some of the scratches smarted a bit, in spite of Lucy’s free hand with the boracic. The ones on her face she smothered with a good coating of face-powder before she went down.
In the dining room she found Edgar and Geraldine finishing their breakfasts, and Lucy and Madge in the middle of theirs. The men must still be asleep after the activities of the night.
Lowecroft came in with fresh tea as Lucy shook her head at Daisy, her mouth—already vividly lip-sticked despite the early hour—turned down. No Gloria.
“Lord Dalrymple has caught a lobster,” Madge said brightly.
A vision of Edgar in oilskins hauling in lobster-pots crossed Daisy’s mind even as she asked, “Moth or butterfly?”
“A moth, Stauropus fagi.” Edgar beamed at her apparent interest.
“A particularly spectacular one?” Daisy queried, crossing to the sideboard and loading a plate with everything in sight.
“The adult form is not spectacular,” her cousin admitted regretfully.
“In fact, it may be mistaken for a bundle of dead leaves. However, I obtained some eggs which I believe it had just laid, and which I hope to hatch. The larva is quite ostentatious. It may be said to resemble a lobster in some respects. Its head, for instance, looks somewhat like a lobster claw.”
The diversionary tactic worked only until the butler left the room. Then Geraldine ruthlessly interrupted.
“Yes, dear, I am sure the caterpillar will be a fascinating sight. Daisy, what is this my maid has been telling me? While delighted to welcome your friends, we cannot approve of the sort of high jinks, to use a vulgar phrase, you young people indulged in last night.”
“No, indeed,” Edgar seconded her with a stern frown, changing instantly from the dotty lepidopterist to the censorious schoolmaster. “Such frolics may suit modern notions, but we choose to preserve the old-fashioned proprieties at Fairacres.”
“Frolics!” Daisy easily suppressed her guilt at having taken advantage of her cousins as she recalled the exhausting, uncomfortable, and at times frightening events of the past twenty-four hours. “Of course, you couldn’t guess, but everything we’ve done has had an extremely serious purpose.”
“What?” Geraldine asked bluntly, but Edgar looked thoughtful, perhaps remembering the condition in which he had found Phillip.
“I can’t tell you the details.”
“Indeed!”
In the face of Geraldine’s justifiable scepticism, Daisy decided the moment had come to blow the gaff, at least in part. Sooner or later they would find out that Alec was a police detective, so she might as well make use of him.
She cast a deliberately exaggerated glance at the door, then leaned forward and said in a low, mysterious voice, “You mustn’t tell anyone, but we’re helping the police.
Mr. Fletcher is from Scotland Yard, a Detective Chief Inspector incognito, and we came here to act as camouflage for him when he arrived.
Last night he asked the chaps to do something more for him, I don’t know quite what.
I do know it’s absolutely vital to keep his profession secret. ”
“Gosh, yes,” said Madge solemnly.
Lucy, the abominable Painted Lady, prudently opened her mouth only to insert a forkful of kedgeree.
“So, please,” Daisy continued, “if you don’t believe me, ask to see his warrant card, but do it discreetly. I’m truly sorry we’ve upset you. We felt it was our duty to do what we could to uphold law and order.”
Geraldine’s face was a study in doubt.
“My dear,” said Edgar, “perhaps I should have mentioned to you that when I came across young Petrie the other morning, he had clearly not been injured in a motor accident. As a matter of fact, his wrists and ankles were bound.”
“Really, Edgar, you might have told me!”
“I do beg your pardon, dear. I didn’t want to alarm you, but I must also confess my mind was distracted by wondering whether it was remiss of me not to have secured the blood vein.”
The four ladies gaped at him. “Phillip wasn’t badly injured,” Daisy said uncertainly.
“Do you mean to say, Edgar, that there was another victim of whatever nefarious business is afoot, and that you let him expire from loss of blood?”
“No, no, good heavens no! The Blood Vein moth, Calothysanis amata. Mr. Petrie had an excellent specimen of the larva crawling up his neck when I found him.”
Madge and Daisy burst out laughing, and Lucy smiled.
Geraldine shook her head in despair. “I should have guessed. Well, I cannot pretend I find it anything but distasteful to be involved in a police matter, however peripherally, but I suppose it is our duty to aid the authorities.”
“I’m sorry,” said Daisy. She was saved from further grovelling as the butler came in.
“Mr. Arbuckle is here, my lady.”
“Good gracious, what ails the man to call at this time in the morning!”
“He asked for Mr. Fletcher, my lady,” Lowecroft informed her with a hint of sympathy.
In response to Geraldine’s glance of exasperated enquiry, Daisy nodded.
“Show Mr. Arbuckle in, please, Lowecroft,” said Geraldine, sighing, “and you had better inform Mr. Fletcher of his arrival. Well, Daisy, we shall take ourselves off. I only hope you know what you are about!”
“So do I,” said Daisy.