Chapter Four #2
“Once a policeman, always a policeman. Give me a minute to organise everything and I’ll explain.
Sakari, Mrs. Tring, I need your help, one of you to wait here for the children, and one to see off Bertha and the twins in the car.
And oh dear, ask Truscott to come straight back if Lady Dalrymple will allow him.
We’ll never all fit in your car, Sakari, with Mrs. Gilpin along.
May I leave it to you to decide who does what?
Thank you! Bye-bye, babies.” She kissed them.
“I’ll see you at home. Bertha, I trust you to look after them. ”
“Of course, madam. Mrs. Gilpin, is she—”
“I didn’t find her. I’m sure she’s all right. Off with you, now. Truscott will be wondering where you’ve got to.”
As Daisy turned back to Tom Tring, Mrs. Tring went off with Bertha, each carrying a twin.
“All right, Mrs. Fletcher, what’s happened?”
She tucked her hand into his arm and led him along the corridor, feeling like a tug with a great liner. “I don’t know, exactly. Probably nothing out of the way. But someone with some degree of authority will have to be told and I want your opinion before I report it.”
“Report what, Mrs. Fletcher?” Tom asked patiently.
“There’s a woman, a nursery nurse, and I think she’s dead. But I’m not sure.”
“Ah. Sounds to me like you need a doctor first, not a copper.”
“I don’t know where to find a doctor.”
“That’s a point. But is there any hurry?”
“I doubt the ladies’ room attendant will hold off anyone insistent on going through to the … the inner room.”
He grinned at her. “Come now, Mrs. Fletcher, it’s not like you to be mealymouthed. The lavatories?”
“Yes. She’s actually sitting on one.”
Tom groaned. “In a state of undress?”
“No, thank goodness. At least, only her hat. And wig.”
“Her wig? She’s wearing a wig?”
“I think so.” Daisy tried to picture the woman’s head. “Either that, or she has an awful lot of hair.”
“Hmm. Well, here we are.” He braced his wide shoulders theatrically. “Best brave the lion’s den, I suppose.”
“She’s no lion. More like a mouse. I’ll go ahead and warn her that you’re coming.”
“I doubt she’ll need much warning.” Tom patted his midriff with a comfortable chuckle.
“You’d be surprised. She seems to be half blind.”
As they approached the closet, the attendant popped out. “Sorry, madam, you can’t go in. We got the perlice.”
“I’ve brought the police, Mrs. Hatch.”
“Oh, it’s you, madam.” She peered past Daisy at Tom. “That’s the perlice? Where’s ’is ’elmet?”
“He’s a detective in plainclothes. He’ll know what best to do for the unfortunate woman.”
“I’m sure I ’opes so, madam.”
“Did you take a peek at her, Mrs. Hatch?” Tom asked.
“Catch me!”
“And no one else has been in there?”
“Not a soul. There was just three come in. I sent ’em to the south end ladies’.”
“Did you mention the police?”
“No. Never ’ave got rid of ’em, would I.”
“Very true.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Hatch.” Daisy was relieved that the attendant had proved trustworthy. She and Tom went through to the inner room. “It’s the far end. The last door. I left the door exactly as I found it.”
“You didn’t touch her?”
“Only to try to find a pulse in her neck. I didn’t … disarrange her at all.”
Tom nodded approval. He went on and Daisy followed a few feet behind, noting sadly how he had lost the lightfootedness that had always characterised his walk, despite his bulk. Stopping halfway, she watched him enter the last cubicle.
Not more than a minute and a half later, he came out and beckoned to her.
“She’s dead. No obvious sign of injury. I hate to ask this, Mrs. Fletcher, but seeing I’m not strictly a copper, I’d like a corroborative witness. Would it upset you to take a quick look? Just so you could say it’s the identical body you found and I’ve left it as you found it.”
“No visible injuries? I don’t mind, then.”
“Just one thing. I’ve moved the hat and wig—you were right about that—to show the face. I’ll put them back when you’ve looked at the face. Seeing your nurse has gone missing—”
“I’m sure it’s not her.”
“I’m sure you’re right. But maybe it’s a friend of hers you’ve seen before.”
“She wouldn’t have a friend come to the house, or stop and talk to one if I were with her.”
“Still, you never know. Not that it’s my business these days, but humour an old man’s curiosity, will you?”
“You’ll never be old, Tom, but all right.”
“Here.” He handed her a small electric torch. “Never go anywhere without one.”
Daisy took it and went past him into the cubicle.
Though willing, she wasn’t exactly keen on examining the dead woman.
Keeping the torch beam on the floor, she gave her a cursory glance below the neck.
Everything looked the same as before. Then she flashed the beam quickly on her face. She frowned, puzzled.
“She does look sort of familiar,” she admitted, leaving the cubicle, “but I can’t place her. And she seems a bit odd, too, though I’m not sure why.”
Tom was wearing his inscrutable expression. “Ah. No doubt you’ll mention that to the officer who comes to investigate.”
“It’s just a feeling. Alec would say—”
“Aunt Daisy!” The anguished cry came from the entrance.
Daisy and Tom swung round. Mrs. Hatch had Charlie by the ear. At least the children had turned up, Daisy thought thankfully as she hurried over.
“Charlie, you shouldn’t come in here!”
“Mrs. Aunt Sakari said to. Make the old witch let me go!” He aimed a kick at the attendant’s skinny ankle.
Mrs. Hatch dodged with surprising agility, keeping a hold on his ear and screeching an unprintable comment about heathen brats.
“Let go of him,” said Daisy in the grande dame voice she’d learned from her mother. “Charlie, apologise for being rude.”
“Sorry,” he muttered. “But, Aunt Daisy, it’s urgent. We found Mrs. Gilpin in the water with the monsters and she’s not moving and Ben and Bel went in to try and pull her out and Bel told me to fetch Mr. Uncle Tom Tring. So will you come, please, sir, quick!”