Chapter 9 #3
“I can take a hint. Scrambled eggs? Come on down to the kitchen, if it’s not too infra dig for a Chief Inspector. Daisy will come as soon as the kettle whistles.”
Daisy was glad to hear them on such friendly terms. When she took up with a middle-class policeman, Lucy had been almost as sticky as the Dowager Viscountess, and there had been a memorable row or two.
Reaching the end of the paragraph, she went to join them.
The kettle was burbling happily to itself, butter sizzled in a frying pan, and Lucy was whisking eggs in a bowl while Alec kept an eye on the bread toasting under the grill.
He looked tired, Daisy thought. Perhaps a meal would restore his energy.
As the burble rose to a screech, she took charge of the tea-making.
“Darling, I was just going to tell your pet copper about the Transcarpathia ruby,” said Lucy. Pouring the eggs into the pan, she did not notice Alec’s dismay, or his positively inquisitorial look at Daisy. “I popped in to see Aunt Eva. She knows absolutely all there is to know about royalty.”
“I just wondered why the Queen gave it away,” Daisy said defensively.
“It seems your Grand Duke’s grandfather was a boon companion of Bertie’s—King Edward’s.
He thought it very funny that the ruby once belonged to a famous courtesan, and when he presented it to Queen Victoria, he was so unwise as to make a little joke about it.
Needless to say, our good Queen was Not Amused.
She gave it to the museum even before he left the country, which I must say I think was a bit thick. Do you like them runny or set, Alec?”
Alec opted for set. When he had eaten, he and Daisy took
their second cups of tea up to the sitting room.
This was furnished with an eclectic mixture of furniture from Daisy’s and Lucy’s family homes.
It was all good, but as Daisy had chosen with an eye to comfort and Lucy to elegance, and the upholstery had been intended for different houses, the overall effect was a bit of a hodgepodge.
The bookcase and its contents were Daisy’s, the Beardsley prints Lucy’s.
“I didn’t tell Lucy about the robbery,” Daisy said as Alec sank into a deep, leather-covered wing chair abstracted from the library at Fairacres. “The Grand Duke is mixed up in the murder, too, remember.”
“How can I forget?” Alec said wearily.
“Do you think they’re connected? By more than Pettigrew being Keeper of Mineralogy, I mean.”
“Unlike Superintendent Crane, I’m not convinced.
If not, it would be quite a coincidence admittedly, but coincidences do happen.
The flint Pettigrew was killed with has been identified by an independent expert as a modern copy.
He laughed like a hyena, by the way, over its having been glued to a shaft.
Primitive man used to bind them together, apparently. ”
“Mr. Ruddlestone would doubtless call that an educated deduction not much advanced from guesswork. I’m sure there is an expert somewhere prepared to swear they were always stuck together with sap, or pitch, or something.
Still, whatever Pettigrew did with it, he made it, so he was probably taking it to show to Witt. ”
“Probably. I haven’t had a chance to consider the implications thoroughly.
” He rubbed his eyes. “Only in the disjointed way one does during a wakeful night. And now there’s this blasted jewel theft to be dealt with, too.
Though I appreciate your discretion about that, incidentally, it’ll be in the later editions of the evening papers. You might as well tell Lucy.”
“What are you doing about it?” Daisy asked.
“Setting up the usual routine. That is, we get a descriptive inventory of what’s missing, notify jewellers, pawnshops, and customs, and put pressure on known fences; we interview all the security staff to find out whether they’ve noticed anything out of the ordinary; and we investigate whether any of the suspects have a particular need for money, or have suddenly improved their standard of living. ”
“Gosh, all that must take an army!”
“Crane’s given me every man he can spare, in and out of uniform, because of the probable connection with the murder.
It takes a lot of organizing. And of course, I have to interview the suspects.
I must get moving, Daisy.” He drained his cup.
“Tell me what happened this morning before I reached the scene.”
“You’re not cross because I was there when the theft was discovered?”
With a rueful grin, Alec reached for her hand. “I’ve decided it’s Fate, with a big F. You can’t help being on the spot. I can’t stop you. And Tom—blast his cheek!—reminded me that I’d never have met you if it wasn’t for your propensity for falling over bodies.”
“Bless him!” said Daisy, but added indignantly, “When we met, that was the first crime I’d ever been even remotely mixed up in. The ‘propensity’ developed afterwards. Darling, I wrote down what happened this morning while I remembered the exact words. Shall I get my notes?”
“Yes, do.”
The two sheets she was looking for were buried under a subsequent blizzard of paper. It took a couple of minutes to dig them out. When Daisy returned to the sitting room, Alec was fast asleep.