Chapter 5
FIVE
“Not the bar, this time,” said Willie as Daisy parked the Austin Twelve in the street outside the Saracen’s Head.
“No,” Daisy agreed. She sniffed. “For one thing, I think we still smell a bit—gamey’s the word. I hope there’s no one in the ladies’ parlour.”
“They’d soon leave,” Isabel said dryly, getting out of the back.
“I wish we’d had time to wash and change,” Vera moaned.
“I could go up to my room and change, but it doesn’t seem fair as you can’t. You could all wash, though.”
“Do let’s!” Willie chimed in as they entered the lobby. “I’d really like a bath but even just scrubbing my face and hands would help. We’ll have to be quick, though. Alec and the local police may turn up any moment with a million questions.”
“Not Alec.” Daisy led the way upstairs. “If they want him on the case, they have to go through a big palaver with the Yard. And the locals won’t be along for a while, I expect.
The sergeant will have to report to his superiors right away.
They’ll probably send out an inspector from High Wycombe, or even Aylesbury.
” Opening the door of her room and ushering the others in, she added, “Listen, I’ll have to ring for hot water.
Don’t for pity’s sake say anything about the body in the maid’s hearing. ”
Sally arrived slightly out of breath, with her cap on crooked and no apron. “I’ve got the afternoon off,” she said, and her nose twitched. “I was just leaving when I saw you’d rung, Mrs. Fletcher, so I came, ’cause her that’s on duty is answering another bell.”
Daisy smiled at her. “I don’t want to keep you from your time off. Could you have Edward bring up plenty of hot water?”
“Right away, madam.” Peering past Daisy, she added, “Shall I fetch some extra towels and face flannels first?”
“Please do.”
“Thank you, Sally,” called Isabel.
“Hello, Miss Sutcliffe. Anything else you need?” Sally was obviously bursting with curiosity. She would hear the story sooner or later, doubtless in more detail than most people because of her aunt charring at Cherry Trees, but she’d have to wait.
“That’s all just now, thank you.” Daisy closed the door as the maid dashed off. “Phew, I think she smelled a rat!”
“I wish it had been a rat!” Vera exclaimed.
They all stood for a moment looking at each other with remembered horror.
Willie asked, “D’you mind if I open the window, Daisy?”
“Please do. A bit of fresh air might help. Won’t you all sit down? Two chairs and two on the bed.”
“Better not,” said Isabel. “The smell might transfer from our clothes to the bedspread and upholstery.”
“Oh dear, you’re right!”
“That chair’s caned, though.”
“You’d better sit there, Daisy.” Willie lowered the window and perched on the windowsill. “Never mind playing hostess, you’re still convalescent. Am I right in thinking they won’t let us go back to the house today? Even if we want to? Which I, for one, don’t!”
“Nor do I.” Vera leaned against the bedpost. “I just hope all our clothes aren’t impregnated.”
“Alec said the upstairs doors were closed. I’m afraid the police may open them.” Daisy frowned. “I’m not sure whether they’d have to get a search warrant, in the circumstances.”
“Search our rooms?” Isabel was outraged. “Why would they do that?”
“I’m not saying they will, just that they may. Depending.”
“On what?” Willie asked.
“Well, I suppose, on when the victim died. Before or after you moved in.”
In the silence that followed Daisy’s statement, Sally tapped on the door and came in with towels and flannels.
“The hot water’ll be a couple of minutes.” She piled her load on the cane-bottomed chair beside the folding screen that hid the marble washstand. “Will you be all right if I go now? I don’t want to leave you ladies in the lurch.”
Daisy assured her they’d manage without her and offered her a tip.
She refused it. “I wouldn’t’ve done it for anybody else, Mrs. Fletcher, and that’s a fact. I’ll be off now.” She whisked out.
“You’ve got her eating out of your hand,” Isabel commented with a touch of envy. “I wish her aunt were as tractable.”
“She’s a nice girl, and ambitious. She’s saving to take a typing course in London. I’ll give her a good tip when Alec and I leave, to help her on her way. Speaking of which, hadn’t you better book rooms for tonight? You don’t want to go back to the house, even if the police would let you.”
Vera looked anxious. “The Saracen is too expensive for me.”
“We’ll see if we can share a room with two beds and a truckle,” Isabel suggested. “Though if one of us goes down to the reception desk smelling like this, I wouldn’t blame them for refusing us!”
“Daisy has clean clothes she can change into,” Willie reminded them. “Daisy, would you mind—?”
“Of course not. Here’s our hot water.” She opened the door to admit the Boots, struggling with several steaming water-cans. “Thanks, Edward.”
He disappeared behind the screen and the metal cans clinked on the marble. Unlike Sally, he didn’t appear to notice any untoward effluvium. Also unlike the maid, he had no qualms about accepting a generous tip. He went off whistling.
“If I’m to put on clean clothes,” said Daisy, “I think I’ll have a bath. It didn’t seem fair before, but as I’m to tackle the landlord…”
“Do,” said Isabel. “All the more hot water for us.”
Half an hour later, much refreshed, Daisy went down to the foyer.
The proprietor himself came in response to the bell.
Mr. Whitford was short, round, rubicund, and smiling, like an idealised innkeeper straight out of Dickens.
He continued to beam as he affirmed that he had a vacant room that would suit Daisy’s friends down to the ground with the addition of a remarkably comfortable folding cot that the Boots would fetch down from the attic.
“And the names of your friends, madam?” he asked, pencil poised over the register.
“Miss Wilhelmina Chandler. Miss Isabel Sutcliffe. Miss Vera Leighton.”
He looked up, eyebrows raised. “Miss Leighton? That’d be the new teacher?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“Summat wrong at the house?”
The truth and nothing but the truth, but not by any means the whole truth: “There’s a nasty smell.”
“Drains. That’s an old house, that is. The last people were always having trouble with the drains.
My cousin, he’s a plumber and he knows them drains inside and out, back’ard and for’ard.
Here, let me write down his name for the ladies.
Not but what May—May Hedger—will tell ’em he’s the one they want. ”
“Thank you, I’ll give it to them, but they already have someone … looking into the matter.…”
“Never mind, eh! They’ll end up wanting his help, I don’t doubt. Now, here’s the key to the room, two of ’em’s all I’ve got.”
“I’m sure they’ll manage.”
“And I’ll see the cot’s set up within the hour.”
“Thank you very much, Mr. Whitford.”
The landlord leaned across the counter and lowered his voice confidentially. “Truth is, I wouldn’t do it for just anyone, but my daughter’s boy as wasn’t any too keen on learning his letters, he likes going to school since Miss Leighton’s come.” He nodded and winked.
Not at all sure what his manner was intended to convey, Daisy smiled in response and returned upstairs.
Opening the bedroom door, she took a shallow breath as she stepped in, then sniffed. “It’s not half as bad as it was,” she announced.
“I can still smell it,” Vera said unhappily. “I wish I had a change of clothes.”
“I could lend you and Willie frocks, though you’d flounder in them. You’re both much slimmer than I am and Willie’s shorter.”
“It wouldn’t be fair. Izzy’s too tall to borrow from you.”
“I expect I can persuade Alec to go and pick up some clothes for you when he gets here.”
“We haven’t even got our handbags,” Willie pointed out, “and I have to have my briefcase for work tomorrow.”
“Alec will sort things out. In the meantime, here’s a couple of keys to your own room. They’re setting up a cot, which the landlord swears is remarkably comfortable.”
Isabel looked sceptical. “Let’s hope we won’t have to suffer for too long. Daisy, how long will they keep us out?”
“I really don’t know, but I doubt if it will be longer than you’ll want to stay away.”
“I wonder whether Mrs. Hedger will be willing to clean the cellar? We may have to hire—I don’t know what sort of person or company.” Isabel’s domestic mind had already returned to the practicalities of their situation.
Vera shuddered.
“You’ll find someone, Iz,” said Willie. “In the meantime, as we’re now officially residents, I’m off to take a bath, even if I have to put the same clothes on again afterwards.”
“Will there be time for all of us to have a bath before the police arrive?” Vera asked.
“If not, they’ll just have to wait. Come on. We’ll see you in a bit, Daisy.”
Daisy decided to put her feet up for a few minutes while she pondered the body in the basement.
She was certain her three friends, the old and the new, were in no way responsible for the corpse in their cellar.
Nonetheless, they were going to find themselves drawn into the police investigation, always an ordeal.
Daisy would have to stay in Beaconsfield and do what she could to give them the benefit of her experience.
She rearranged the pillows, kicked off her shoes, leaned back, and promptly fell asleep.
* * *
Harris was not happy. So much was evident as soon as the bulky sergeant stepped through the garden gate, wheeling his bicycle, his podgy face under the helmet creased in a scowl.
Alec wasn’t very happy, either. He had been pacing up and down the path for over thirty minutes. He didn’t see how even an overweight police officer could take half an hour to bicycle three quarters of a mile downhill.
As Alec strode towards Harris, the sergeant turned his back and wheeled the bike over to a tree, against which he leaned it, his every motion slow and deliberate.