Chapter Seven #2
“We haven’t been much help,” said Ben, “not really.”
“You’d be surprised. So far, I’m just getting a feel for what’s happened. You have filled in parts of the picture. Like a jigsaw puzzle. Every piece you add gives you a better idea of what the rest is like.”
“I like jigsaw puzzles,” Charlie said thoughtfully. “Perhaps I’ll be a policeman when I grow up.”
“Sounds like a good plan, laddie. Off you go, now.”
“Ask Aunt Sakari and Mrs. Tring if there’s anything you can do for them.”
“What do you think, Mrs. Fletcher,” said Mackinnon, “can I rely on their evidence?”
“They didn’t contradict each other, not seriously. I’m not sure I’d trust Charlie once he’s had time for his imagination to get to work. The other two are reliable.”
Tom joined them.
“Any luck, Sarge?”
“Not much, sir.” He glanced at Daisy, who tried to look as if her attention was elsewhere.
The inspector gestured to Tom to go on. “Mrs. Hatch is the name, Mavis Hatch. Nice old bird, still working to support a couple of great-grandchildren. Eighty-three years old, she informs me, and a one for the boys in her youth. The truth of the matter is, she remembers those days better than she does today’s doings. ”
“She can’t remember anything at all?” Mackinnon asked in dismay.
“Very little. Her eyesight and hearing aren’t anything to write home about, either, and she dozes a lot.
She has a vague impression of noticing several nannies all at once, but she can’t say how many.
She remembers being surprised at not noticing any children with them.
The Palace isn’t a place people bring babies, which they might leave outside the ladies.
Little kiddies have to tag along and they usually make enough disturbance to draw her attention. ”
“Hm, I’m not sure where that gets us. She couldn’t even say whether more than two nannies had gone through to the lavs at the same time?”
Tom shook his head, the electric light gleaming on the hairless dome. “If she had, I wouldn’t take her word for it.”
“Anything else?”
“Nothing worth hearing. I’ll write you up my notes same as if I was still on the force.”
“Thanks, Sarge. If there’s anything good about this case, it’s that you were on the spot.”
“And Mrs. Fletcher,” Tom said loyally.
“A mixed blessing,” Mackinnon muttered almost silently, softly enough for Daisy to ignore it.
Besides, it was hard to disagree. One way or another, it was going to be impossible to keep Alec in ignorance.
She shuddered when she considered his probable reaction.
Unless Mackinnon had picked up some thread to follow that she had missed, he was likely to ask for help from the Yard.
Her involvement made it almost certain Alec would be put in charge, if he came back from Bristol in time.
Assuming the masquerader had not died a natural death: As if in answer to Daisy’s thought, the divisional surgeon appeared from the inner room, followed by the photographer and fingerprint officer.
The latter pair sketched salutes towards the inspector. At his nod, they departed. The doctor came over. He glanced at Daisy and gave Mackinnon a questioning look.
“Thank you, Mrs. Fletcher. I’ll call in Hampstead tomorrow to see whether Mrs. Gilpin is recovering and whether you or the children have remembered anything more. If you need help with getting everyone out to the street, just call on the constables outside the door.”
“Thanks.” Reluctantly Daisy rose. Tom followed suit, but Mackinnon waved him back to his seat.
“Please stay, Mr. Tring.”
Fuming, Daisy rejoined Sakari and Mrs. Tring. They had worked out a plan to get everyone away without having to parade through the length of the Palace.
“Thanks to Ben,” said Sakari, “the more because he and Charlie would have liked to show off their togas. He consulted the map in his guidebook and found a gate to the street quite close by, if we go out by the north end. At my request, one of Mr. Mackinnon’s men went to instruct the bobby on duty outside the main entrance to keep an eye out for the two cars and redirect them thither. ”
“Oh good. Where are the boys?” Daisy asked.
“As soon as Tom finished with Mrs. Hatch,” Mrs. Tring explained, “we sent them to beg, borrow, or buy a laundry bag from her and collect their wet clothes.”
“What a good idea. I’ll go and ring Cousin Geraldine to make sure Truscott is on his way. If not, I’ll hire a car.” As she turned to the exit, Mackinnon was already leaving and Tom was coming towards them. “I just want a quick word with Mr. Tring first.”
“How can I help you, Mrs. Fletcher?” asked Tom.
Daisy drew him aside. “Did the doctor find out what he died of?”
“Ah.” Tom ruminated, his eyes twinkling. “I’ve been told not to talk about it, but seeing I can’t get the sack, and seeing it’s you, Mrs. Fletcher, I’ll say this much. Dr. Watchett discovered the immediate cause of death, but not what caused it.”
“That’s a riddle, not an answer!”
“’Fraid so.”
“What was the immediate cause?”
He shook his head, his moustache twitching as he grinned. “Sorry, it’s not for me to say.”
Daisy made a moue. “What about the time of death? Did he give you that?”
“At least half an hour, not more than two hours, before he arrived. But he could have been some time dying.”
“How horrible! Do you … do they know who he is?”
“No idea. He had no papers on him, no laundry marks on his clothes, nothing. DI Mackinnon is counting on you to come through, to identify the elusive familiarity you claimed.”
“Oh dear!” said Daisy.