Chapter 29
TWENTY-NINE
After DI Worrall had dismissed MacGillivray, Daisy asked whether he wanted her notes of the interview typed. As far as she could see, the gentleman’s gentleman had contributed absolutely nothing to the investigation.
“Don’t trouble yourself, Mrs. Fletcher. He didn’t say anything worth tuppence. I scribbled down a couple of points to mention to the Chief Inspector later and that’ll do.”
“What’s next?”
“I’m off to the west wing to see how the search is going and whether Mr. Norman’s come in yet. If not, I’ll tell Mrs. Sutherby she can have her office back, for the present at least, and you’re welcome to go and join everyone in the hall. You won’t tell ’em anything you shouldn’t, I’m sure.”
“Of course not,” Daisy said indignantly, then felt a twinge of guilt as she recalled one or two occasions when she had told people things she shouldn’t; always for an excellent reason, naturally.
She wasn’t at all sure whether she wanted to join the others, especially if Sybil wasn’t going to be there.
How would they feel about her working with the police?
On the other hand, the innocent should be grateful for her assistance in finding the guilty.
It was possible that she’d be able to guess which was which and thus point Alec in the right direction.
Simon? Ruby? Myra? They all seemed so unlikely and Daisy refused to consider Sybil or Roger Knox. It must have been Lorna, or Norman, or the two together.…
And Norman was still a complete enigma. She hoped Worrall would return with him in tow, but it was Sybil who came in.
“Daisy, the inspector asked me to tell you that Norman hasn’t appeared yet, but they’ve finished searching the house and they’re not keeping everyone together any longer.
He said I could come and get on with my writing, though I shan’t get much done before lunch anyway. Is it true that Lorna’s been arrested?”
“Sorry, I can’t say. I promised Worrall; not to mention that Alec would have my blood if I spoke a word out of place.”
“We saw her going off in the police car with your husband.”
“As they always write in the papers, she’s ‘helping the police with their enquiries.’ That’s all I can tell you, so please don’t ask me.”
“Oh, very well, I won’t, but the others are bound to.”
“I shan’t give them any information, either. I’ve a good mind to retreat to my room and lock the door.”
“Don’t do that!”
Daisy laughed. “I didn’t mean it. I’m much too hungry for lunch.”
“If you really want to escape,” Sybil said anxiously, “and I wouldn’t blame you, surely there wouldn’t be any objection now to your driving down to Matlock.”
“I’m not going to desert you.”
“I’m so sorry your visit has turned out so horribly.” She was near tears.
“It was to investigate a sinister mystery that you invited me. I have only myself to blame for accepting.”
“Yes, but I never dreamt—”
“Exactly. You couldn’t anticipate someone going off the rails and doing in your employer while I was here.
I know you were fond of him, Sybil, but do buck up.
Ruby’s in no state to hold things together.
Lorna’s been carted off to the police station.
Neither Myra nor Simon is capable of keeping the household on an even keel. ”
“Daisy, I can’t run the household! I’ve never had to learn how.”
“You’ll have to when you marry Roger.”
“He has a housekeeper.”
“So do I, but even the best housekeeper needs guidance to make everything run smoothly. You are going to marry him, then.”
“Yes. Independence does rather lose its lustre when one loses one’s job. I do love him, and I know he’ll be a good husband and father, it’s just…”
Though Daisy had expected Sybil’s answer, it gave her a twinge of unease. Alec might see it as reinforcing Roger Knox’s motive for doing in Humphrey. She told herself not to be silly, Alec had more or less dismissed the doctor as a suspect.
More or less: He hadn’t crossed him off his list.
“It’s just,” she finished Sybil’s sentence, “that getting married feels like changing from a person into an appendage. The doctor’s wife.
Believe me, I understand. You’ll just have to keep writing.
It’s bound to come out, at least in publishing circles, that you were responsible for the great success of ‘Eli Hawke,’ so you already have a good footing. ”
“I suppose so.” Sybil sounded doubtful. “But that’s not going to help me to take the place of Ruby and Lorna right now, with both of them out of the picture.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to, that’s not what I meant.
It’s more that Simon and Myra need you to be a good example, an example of steadiness.
Perhaps just getting on with the book you have to finish would be the best way.
I don’t know. But wait till after lunch.
It’s ages since Betty and Etta were asked to make sandwiches. Let’s go and see what they’re up to.”
Entering the hall, they found only Simon and Neil Carey. Carey, lounging by the fire, apparently quite happy doing nothing, stood up and lounged against the mantelpiece. Simon was staring moodily out of one of the small front windows. He turned at the sound of footsteps.
“It’s going to rain.” He came towards them. “Mrs. Fletcher, what’s going on? All I can get out of the coppers is that Aunt Lorna is helping the police with their enquiries. A fat lot that tells me.”
“I’m afraid I can’t tell you any more.”
“Has she been arrested?”
“Simon, don’t pester. Daisy is bound by an oath of secrecy. Where’s Myra?”
“She went up to Mother, to see if she wants something to eat. She’s becoming positively filial.” His words were flippant but his tone was anxious.
“Sarcasm does not become you, boyo,” his friend admonished him lazily.
“I didn’t mean it that way. She’s being very good with mother, a regular brick. Behaving better than I am, I dare say. I still just can’t quite take it in, Father’s being…” His voice cracked.
Daisy hastily distracted him: “Where’s Mr. Ilkton?”
“Dogging Myra’s footsteps.” Neil grinned.
Restored by scorn, Simon said, “It’s nauseating, the way he moons about after her. He was a little more discreet about it while Father … But now, he hardly lets her out of his sight.”
“I hope he hasn’t followed her into Ruby’s room!” Sybil exclaimed.
“I’m sure he wouldn’t,” Daisy said soothingly.
“He offered to fetch a tray from the kitchen for Mother if she doesn’t want to come down.”
Neil snorted. “Sure and it’s himself had never seen the inside of a kitchen before he came here. What a man will stoop to for love!” He held up his hand as Simon started to speak. “Hush! I feel a play coming on.”
“Not about us? Neil, you can’t do that.”
“An artist takes his material where he finds it.”
Daisy and Sybil left them arguing and made for the kitchen to see what the maids had done about lunch.
The room was wonderfully warm from the coal-fired range.
They found on the table a tray piled with sandwiches, great doorsteps consisting of thick slabs of bread, roughly buttered, with a slice of either cheese or cold meat slapped between.
Nearby was a piece of paper held down by a ladle.
Over Sybil’s shoulder, Daisy read the painstaking printing: “Are Tom brung a missige from Mam us got to go home. Acos of Perlees. So us went.” “Went” was crossed out, with “going” substituted.
“Bother!” said Sybil. “Just when we really need them. I suppose Norman must have told the Hendreds. Oh dear, I’m sure Ruby won’t be able to manage one of those monstrous objects.” She waved at the sandwiches.
“I will, even if I have to take the top slice off to get it in my mouth.” Daisy sniffed. “I can’t smell potatoes baking. They must have left before they put them in the oven.”
“At least they scrubbed them. There’s a bowlful here in the sink. They’ll do for dinner.”
“Where’s the larder? Perhaps there’s some soup left from yesterday’s lunch that would be better for Ruby.”
“I’ll look.” Sybil opened a door and disappeared within. Her voice echoed back, “Yes, there’s quite a bit of the leek soup left. Let’s heat up all of it.”
Daisy decided to take the top slices of bread off several sandwiches, remove the crusts, cut them into triangles, and serve them with the soup. They were busying themselves about these tasks when Myra came in, Ilkton on her heels.
“Mrs. Fletcher, Sybil, you’re not supposed to do kitchen work! Where are Betta and Etty?”
“They went home. Mrs. Hendred doesn’t care for police in the house.”
“Nor do I,” Ilkton muttered.
“Nor do any of us,” Sybil said sharply, “considering the cause.”
“But they’ll go away now, because Aunt Lorna’s been arrested,” Myra said cheerfully.
She sniffed at the pot Sybil was stirring.
“Is that soup? That’s just the thing for Aunt Ruby.
I’m sure I’ll be able to persuade her to eat a bit.
She can’t face sandwiches.” Taking a second look at the sandwiches, she giggled.
“Especially if those are them. No wonder the aunts don’t let the girls do much in the kitchen. ”
DI Worrall arrived next. “I thought I’d find the maids in here,” he said, frowning.
Daisy explained their departure.
“I haven’t said anyone was free to leave! They’re from one of the tenant farms, aren’t they? I was hoping they might have some idea where Norman Birtwhistle can be found.”
“Hasn’t he come in yet?” Daisy asked.
“I bet I can explain that,” said Myra. “Sometimes, if he’s at one of the farms in the middle of the day, they invite him to eat with them.”
“I hope that’s all it is,” Worrall said ominously, “and he hasn’t done a bunk. I’m going to have to ring the station and talk to the Chief Inspector, see what he wants me to do. Unless he tells me to chase off after Mr. Norman, me and my men would appreciate a couple of those sandwiches there.”