Chapter 20
TWENTY
Daisy awoke feeling much refreshed. With more than enough time to wash and change before dinner, she stayed put, watching in a detached way the curtains flap in a determined breeze blowing through the part-open window.
(“Less than four inches is a draught,” her nurse had always said; “More than four inches is fresh air.”) She was thinking drowsily about getting up when Alec came in.
“Daisy, are you all right?” he asked in alarm.
“Perfectly all right, darling.” She sat up. “Why shouldn’t I be?”
“It’s not like you to take a nap between tea and dinner!”
“I’m still sort of convalescent, according to Isabel, at any rate. Besides, I’ve had a busy day.”
“So I’ve heard.”
“Oh, blast, have you been talking to the rector? I wanted to tell you myself.”
“No, he was out when we called, as was his wife.”
“Must have been teatime. She joined us for tea, Izzie and me. The doctor’s wife, too. It’s no good asking either of them about Mrs. Gray, though. They barely knew her.” Daisy passed on what the two had said.
“Thanks. That’s much the impression we’ve been getting from everyone. But what I really want to know is what the dickens you and the rector were up to?”
“Mr. Turnbull had some questions he wanted to ask Vera’s two predecessors at the school. I offered to drive him so that he wouldn’t have to work out the underground and buses and so on.”
“Nothing to do with the case, then?”
“Just some information he hoped would help Vera.” Daisy added cautiously, “But we did come across something that might help you, too.”
“Oh yes?”
“You needn’t sound so sceptical!”
“You must admit it’s a bit odd that the rector’s quest to help Miss Leighton just happened to result in you finding evidence for the police.”
“Serendipity. Well, I did hope—the very vaguest of hopes…”
“Otherwise, no doubt, you wouldn’t have offered Mr. Turnbull your services as chauffeur.”
“But so vague, I was sure it wouldn’t count as interfering. You were going to interview Mr. Cartwright, weren’t you? After he barged in on you and Underwood and the superintendent?”
“Of course. Though we were pretty certain his outburst was irrelevant as the victim couldn’t have told lies regarding an investigation that didn’t start till long after she died.”
“So you wouldn’t press him too hard. Have you seen him already?”
“Underwood sent someone to get a statement.” Alec considered for a moment.
“I can’t see any reason not to tell you.
Cartwright said he’d had one too many whiskies and thought he saw his wife going into the snug to complain to the landlord about letting him run up a bill he couldn’t afford.
His wife confirms that he spends far too much on drink but swears she wouldn’t demean herself by speaking to a common publican. ”
“At that point, Sally had left and I was the only woman in the snug. Does she look at all like Sally or me?”
“Hm, I wonder if … The constable who called on her described her as a sour-faced shrew with a bad perm.”
“Darling, really! It’s a clever story, though. It puts him in a bad light so you wouldn’t be inclined to investigate any further.”
“All right, what did you discover?”
“He never misses an excuse to cane or rap the knuckles of the unfortunate children he’s supposed to teach.”
“Many schoolmasters do that, and schoolmistresses, too.”
“Many don’t. At the least, it shows he’s not averse to violence. Also, he’s a lady’s man, given to forcing unwanted attentions on defenceless females.”
“Is he, now! Including Miss Leighton, I presume.”
“You’ll have to ask her, and the others.”
“Others? Miss Sutcliffe and Miss Chandler?”
“I wouldn’t call them defenceless, would you?”
“Who, then?”
“I can’t tell you that. Ask the rector. But Mrs. Gray could have been one of those he approached. Perhaps he was rougher with her than he dared to be in the schoolroom, and she fought him. Or perhaps he was actually her lover, and they quarrelled.”
“Pure speculation,” Alec scoffed automatically, but he looked thoughtful.
Daisy let him think for a moment, then went on, “Or perhaps the sour-faced shrew found out about their affair and attacked Mrs. Gray.”
He groaned. “I can’t dismiss any of your wild guesses out of hand. You’d better change your clothes if you want any dinner.”
“Are you insinuating that I’m a mess?”
“Yes, love. Stating rather than insinuating. Better than being sour-faced but you look exactly as if you’ve been sleeping in that dress. As you have.”
This Daisy could not deny, so she let the dress be crushed a little more in his arms, and they went down late to dinner.
Willie, Vera, and Isabel were already on the main course, so Daisy and Alec waved but didn’t join them. The room was packed, but Sally had saved a table for the Fletchers. She brought steaming bowls of soup.
“Mulligatawny; I hope you like it. Then there’s veal and ham pie or Dover sole. I heard you went and saw Auntie May this afternoon, Mr. Fletcher. Did she snap your head off?”
Alec smiled at her. “I have a tough head, don’t worry. Daisy, what will you have?”
“The sole, if it’s really fresh?”
“I wouldn’t offer it to you, Mrs. Fletcher, if it wasn’t. Come straight from Billingsgate this very morning, on ice all the way.”
Alec chose the pie. Sally left, and Daisy asked, “What’s she like? Mrs. Hedger? I saw her briefly the first time I went to Cherry Trees. She was just leaving.”
Typically, he tossed the question back. “What did you think of her?”
“Morose. Suspicious by nature. That’s just from her looks, and I saw her only in passing. I didn’t chat with her. She didn’t look as if she wanted to be sociable. I can’t comment on what Isabel said about her being hardworking, but I can well believe she’s obstinate.”
“Obstinate, obdurate, and obstructive. Apparently my accent isn’t posh enough to impress her.
She just kept repeating that her job is cleaning, not spying on her ladies nor paying attention to their looks or their comings and goings.
She doesn’t hold with ‘carryings-on’ and wouldn’t have stood for anything of the sort. ”
“She doesn’t live in, so that doesn’t mean much. When did she last see Mrs. Gray?”
“She can’t remember. She pays no attention to her ladies’ comings and goings.”
“I’d expect her to remember when she was last paid.”
“I daresay she does, and is just being difficult.”
“Perhaps Mrs. Gray gave her a farewell bonus. She refused to attempt to identify the body, I take it?”
“Her job is cleaning, and one lady looks much the same as another.”
Daisy laughed. “Oh dear! What a pity she isn’t one of those chars to whom their employers lives are of all-absorbing interest. What about Vaughn?”
“He was out of the office all day, showing houses, inspecting houses, dealing with tenants of houses the agency manages.” Alec shrugged.
“Whatever house agents do. Underwood made an appointment to see him tomorrow in case we can’t catch him this evening.
Miss Chandler hasn’t dropped any further hints about him? ”
“Never a murmur. He must have spent quite some time with Mrs. Gray, going over the house and showing it to prospective buyers. Surely ought to be able to identify her, even if they weren’t having an affair. Are you any closer to proving it’s her body?”
“Not to proving, but the odds are improving.”
They had finished the mulligatawny soup, tasty but a bit heavy on the curry powder. Sally brought the main course.
“Mr. Piper’s just come from the police station, sir, and’d like a word when you can. I’m giving him his supper in the kitchen. He said he’d rather.”
Was that a touch of pink on her cheeks? Daisy wasn’t sure. The waitress was a very self-possessed young woman.
“That’s kind of you,” Daisy said. Did the pinkness intensify?
“Tell Piper I’ll be with him as soon as I’ve finished eating.” Alec sounded morose. “Thanks.”
“Mr. Whitford says you can use the snug again, sir, if you need to. You’re bringing in a lot of new customers.” Sally whisked off to serve another diner.
“Were you expecting the rest of the evening off, darling?”
“Not really. I just hoped to dine in peace. Did I tell you Tom Tring is coming down to Beaconsfield? He may be here already.”
“But he retired!”
“He’s missing the job. I happened to run into him at the Yard, chatting with an old crony.
He asked after you and the children, of course, then he wanted to know what I was up to.
I told him my presence on this case was strictly officially unofficial.
Naturally, he immediately guessed that you were involved. ”
“Darling!” she protested.
“So we hatched a plot whereby he would go undercover even more unofficially—”
“His missus won’t appreciate that a bit.”
“She’s coming too, I hope. Just a city couple taking a few days’ holiday in the country. They’ll stay elsewhere and he’ll patronise the public bars, here and elsewhere, keeping his ears open.”
“I’m sure his pub-crawling will reconcile Mrs. Tring to the business,” Daisy said ironically.
“We’ll see. If you happen to come face-to-face with her or Tom, pretend you don’t know them.”
“I’ll try. I suppose there’s no way you can introduce him to Sally’s Auntie May? I bet he’d get her talking.”
“Probably. That’s a good idea, if I can come up with a way to get them together.”
“I’ll try, too.”
Alec’s face expressed severe misgivings. “Daisy, you are absolutely not to—”
“Oh, I won’t try to bring them together, darling, just think of a way for Tom to do it himself.”
“If you come up with a suggestion, don’t approach—”
“You’ve already told me not to show I know them. I presume you have a way to contact him in secret? Signs and passwords? Leave a message in the hollow oak at midnight? This is beginning to sound like a children’s adventure story!”
Alec grimaced. “For pity’s sake, don’t say that to Underwood.”
“Does he know about Tom?”