Chapter Three #3
‘Not well. You’ve been to JB’s place in London, haven’t you?
He has a valet and a housekeeper there, as well as a couple of maids-of-all-work.
I’ve met them all at one time or another but he doesn’t bring them with him.
He hired the Crawfords locally, specifically for the fort – when the place is up and running they’ll be the senior staff.
I’ve spent very little time here – just long enough to measure the garden and make some sketches – so I’ve only really nodded hello. ’
‘Ah. I’m just trying to gauge how they’ll react when we search their rooms. I don’t want it to look as though we’re accusing them of anything. We’re not accusing anyone of anything – we’re just trying to find some misplaced items.’
‘I have no idea, dear. I’m sorry.’
‘Let me take the lead when we get to their flat,’ I said. ‘I’ll make sure they don’t feel like suspects.’
This seemed to satisfy the other two and we continued our room-by-room search, finding – as I was coming to expect – absolutely nothing.
We entered the servants’ quarters through the kitchen, where Mrs Crawford was already busy preparing lunch.
She didn’t seem at all fazed by the unexpected arrival of three houseguests at the top of the short flight of steps leading into her domain. ‘Hello, m’dears. What can I do for you? Lunch i’n’t till twelve, but I’ve got some fruitcake if you’re feelin’ peckish.’
I smiled. ‘We’re quite all right, Mrs Crawford—’
‘Call me Peggy, my luvver. I can’t be doin’ with all that Mrs Crawford nonsense.’
‘I shall. But we don’t need anything to eat. Or at least I don’t think we do.’ I looked to my companions.
‘Actually, I wouldn’t mind a slice of that cake if you’re offering,’ said Dotty.
‘Be my pleasure. I’ll cut you a piece dreckly – I just need to set this pastry to restin’.’
She took her mixing bowl and disappeared into the pantry.
‘Dreckly?’ whispered Dotty.
‘Directly,’ I whispered back. ‘She’ll do it as soon as she can.’
Peggy returned. ‘Now, then, who else wants a slice of cake?’
Lady Hardcastle and I both declined, but Dotty took the proffered piece and munched eagerly.
‘We’re actually on a mission,’ I said. ‘Mrs Bridgewater and Mrs Sidwell-Plant have both managed to mislay a couple of small items and we’re helping to search for them. They’re just tiny things so they could easily have been caught up in towels or linens when you or Mr Crawford—’
‘Now, you should definitely call that gurt noodle Jago. Mr Crawford makes him sound like a solicitor or sommat.’
‘—when you or . . . Jago were tidying up. We won’t get in the way, but we’d be grateful if we could look round your flat to make sure nothing got kicked under a dresser or anything like that.’
‘You do what you need to do, m’dear. Valuable, these lost things, are they?’
‘Not especially,’ I said. ‘But you know how frustrating it is when things go missing.’
‘Oh, I do. You look round. Jago i’n’t here, but he won’t mind, neither.’
I smiled. ‘Thank you, Mrs— Thank you, Peggy. Oh, have any of the other guests been down to see you?’
‘No, m’dear. You’re the first.’
We left her to continue her lunch preparations and went through to the next room, the butler’s pantry.
It was full of the usual butlerish paraphernalia – polishes, cloths, corkscrews, a decanting cage – as well as a selection of small tools. There was no sign of the jewels.
A short passageway led to the Crawfords’ sitting room, then another to their spacious and comfortable bedroom with its private bathroom beyond.
By the time we returned to the kitchen Crawford was back from whatever errand he’d been on.
‘Hello, ladies,’ he said with a warm smile. ‘Peg tells me you’m lookin’ for sommat. Anythin’ I can do to help?’
‘No, thank you, Jago,’ I said. ‘We only really came down here so we could reassure Mrs Sidwell-Plant we’d looked everywhere. You have a lovely home here.’
‘’T’i’n’t bad, is it?’ he said, proudly. ‘Better than the old pub we lived in backalong, eh, Peg?’
Peggy nodded, sagely. ‘Oh-ar. Definitely. Fallin’ down, that were.’
‘You ran a pub?’ asked Lady Hardcastle. ‘How wonderful.’
‘You wouldn’t say that if you’d seen it,’ he chuckled. ‘And the customers? Rogues and scoundrels the lot of ’em. I’d much rather be workin’ for Mr McIntyre and livin’ here.’
Peggy nodded again. ‘Much rather.’
‘Well, we shan’t detain you any longer,’ said Lady Hardcastle. ‘Thank you for indulging us.’ She paused and then pointed to a door in the corner of the kitchen. ‘What’s through there?’
‘Just a storeroom and the wine cellar,’ said Peggy.
‘Sundry bits and bobs, mostly, but we keeps it locked because of the booze. No real need while it’s just Mr McIntyre’s friends visitin’, but we wants to get into the habit afore the payin’ guests start arrivin’.
You know? But there won’t be nothin’ of the ladies’ in there. ’
‘Of course. And that one leads outside, one presumes.’ She pointed to a substantial, iron-bound door.
‘That’s right. We uses it for deliveries, mostly – saves us draggin’ things in through the hall.’
Lady Hardcastle smiled and nodded. ‘Aha. Well, good day to you both. And thank you again.’
We made our way out into the great hall just as JB came in from outside, accompanying a strikingly beautiful woman of about my age and size. She was expensively dressed but her smile was most definitely the first thing anyone would notice. She seemed thrilled to be at the fort.
‘Oh, JB, this is wonderful. Just look at the way the light comes in from those upper windows. And the decor – oh, my. Your friend did this, you say?’ Her accent was hard to place. Southern England, certainly. Probably upper-middle-class London, but it was hard to tell.
‘Patience Sidwell-Plant, yes,’ said JB. ‘You’ll meet her soon. Dotty Bridgewater here is designing the gardens.’
There was a brief round of how-do-you-do’s as JB introduced us to the newcomer – whose name, we learned, was Lily Thacker.
Lily dazzled us once more with her smile. ‘I’m so sorry I couldn’t come over with you all yesterday but I had an appointment in Exeter I simply couldn’t get out of.’
‘No matter,’ said JB. ‘At least you’re in time for lunch today.’
‘Indeed. And now I’m finally here I’m very much looking forward to getting to know you all. Oh, and you absolutely must let me photograph you – you’re all so . . . interesting.’
I tried my hardest not to laugh. If I’d been given a choice on what it was about us all that made us promising photographic subjects, I’d have opted for ‘beautiful’.
I’d have settled for ‘alluring’. ‘Ravishing’ would have been nice.
‘Gorgeous’, perhaps. ‘Bewitching’? Even ‘winsome’ would have been better than ‘interesting’.
It made me feel like a sideshow attraction.
‘Roll up, roll up. Come and see Florence Armstrong – she’s . . . interesting.’
‘And we must talk about photography at some point, too,’ said Lady Hardcastle, who, to be fair, was not only beautiful but also very interesting.
‘We must,’ said Lily with another smile.
The Everetts had come down the stairs and were crossing the hall on their way to the door.
‘Hi, Clarice,’ said JB. ‘Hi, Everett. Off for a walk?’
‘Just a stroll round the island before luncheon,’ said Everett.
‘Good idea. But come on over here and meet our final guest before you go. Clarice and Edgar Everett, may I present Miss Lily Thacker, a photographer from London.’
I’d got the London part right, at least.
‘Lily, this is Clarice Everett, the famous violinist, and Edgar, her equally famous husband.’
Clarice held out her hand towards JB.
‘Oh, my goodness,’ said Lily. ‘How wonderful to meet you. Will you both be playing? May I photograph you?’
Having located her by the sound of her voice, Clarice turned a little so that she was facing Lily. Her nostrils flared slightly as Lily shook her hand. ‘I have no objections. It’s not as though I’ll be embarrassed by how awful I look.’
‘Oh,’ said Lily with a nervous little laugh. ‘I suppose not. Thank you.’
Everett looked at Lily with a slightly puzzled frown but then tipped his hat, and he and Clarice continued to the door.
‘Well, ladies, I should leave you to your search while I show Lily to her room. And then there’s a young gentleman I’d like you to meet, Lily. I think you two will really get along.’
‘Search?’ she said with a puzzled frown.
‘A couple of items have been mislaid,’ said Lady Hardcastle. ‘Nothing to worry about.’
JB led Lily towards the stairs.
Lady Hardcastle waited until they’d gone. ‘Aside from the locked storeroom in the kitchen, I think we’ve searched everywhere in here. Is there anything outside?’
‘There’s a privy out on the lower gun platform,’ said Dotty. ‘And another storeroom next to the kitchen door. Oh, and a toolshed down in the garden, but I doubt anyone would have had time to get there and back without being missed, even if they did manage to find their way in the dark.’
‘Then we’d better have a quick look in the lav and the larder before we call it a day and get ready for lunch. I think you’re right – no one could have gone out to the garden.’
Dotty looked crestfallen.
‘Don’t worry,’ I said. ‘We’ll fathom it out. We always do.’
She gave me a wan smile and we made our way to the door.