Chapter Nine
NINE
Whenever Lucy invited Daisy to meet her, she chose the most fashionable restaurants. Entering the Café de Paris, Daisy hoped last year’s spring costume was not impossibly dowdy.
It wasn’t that she hadn’t the money for a new costume.
Since inheriting Alec’s long-lost great-uncle’s estate, the Fletchers had been very comfortably off.
But Daisy hadn’t the figure required for modern styles.
As a result, she found visits to her dressmaker frightfully depressing and therefore simply couldn’t find the time.
She asked the ma?tre d’h?tel for Lady Gerald Bincombe and was led at once to a table in a discreet corner. However flamboyantly modish Lucy might be, at least she never insisted on flaunting the latest acquisition in the most public spot in the room.
Daisy sat down, hoping Lucy wouldn’t be late.
“Today’s menu, madam. May I recommend the coquilles St. Jacques? The sole bonne femme is also particularly good today.”
“Thank you.”
The wine waiter appeared at her elbow.
“Would madame care to order a cocktail?”
“I’ll have a half and half vermouth with soda, please.”
“Certainly, madame. Ah, here is Lady Gerald.”
Lucy being Lucy, the ma?tre d’h?tel and the wine waiter vied to take her furs and seat her.
She was wearing a black and sunshine-yellow costume, the jacket longer and the waist lower than any Daisy had seen before.
A little black cap, fitted close to her head and flaunting a topaz aigrette, supplanted the cloche hat that had been ubiquitous for several years.
“Evian with a dash of bitters, Alphonse,” she ordered.
“Tout de suite, milady,” he promised with a look of commiseration as he hurried away.
“He thinks I’m liverish,” Lucy said crossly, her high, fluting voice lowered for once. “I promised Gerald to go easy on the cocktails, because of you know what. Honestly, anyone would think I’m a confirmed toper!”
“Darling, no one looking at your complexion could think anything of the sort. I’m glad you’re feeling better.”
“I’m dying of hunger all the time. And I have a craving for asparagus. If they haven’t got fresh asparagus I shall scream.”
“Please don’t. Cousin Edgar sent us some from Fairacres and it’s even reached High Street, Hampstead. Covent Garden must be bursting with the stuff.”
They settled on their lunch, including asparagus, and Lucy leaned back. “How is it going with the horde of visiting relatives?”
“We only have two. I’ve hardly seen anything of Cousin Geraldine and the girls. The boys are delightful—on the whole—and keep Belinda busy. She’s taken them to the zoo today.”
“The most delightful children are those one seldom sees. Which reminds me, have you decided yet whether you’re going to let me have your nanny?”
Alec and Daisy had decided that they wanted the twins to attend the local Montessori school.
More accurately, Daisy had decided and convinced Alec.
However, when last she talked to Lucy on the subject, she hadn’t been certain whether they would still need Mrs. Gilpin’s care.
After seeing them settle happily with Bertha in charge, she was satisfied.
Yet she hesitated to tell Lucy that Nurse Gilpin would be free to accept an offer in a few months. After her strange behaviour, it was impossible to give her an unqualified recommendation. That business must be sorted out first.
“I don’t want to rush you, Daisy, but I’m going to have to look about for someone else if you’re keeping her.”
“I’ll let you know as soon as I can.”
The arrival of the soup distracted Lucy from the subject. It was some time before Daisy found an opening to ask about the assassinated empress.
“Elisabeth? Yes, of course I know about the Empress Elisabeth. She was Rudolf’s mother.”
“The murder-suicide Rudolf?”
“That’s never been proven,” Lucy said disapprovingly.
“All right, the one who died at Mayerling under mysterious circumstances. Along with his mistress.”
“Yes, that one. Elisabeth lost her son, and she didn’t get on at all well with Franz Josef. She was travelling alone in Switzerland—”
“Alone with a train of ladies-in-waiting and servants, I assume. And military guards, presumably?”
“I expect so. But when she was attacked, she had only a lady-in-waiting with her. They had just walked from a hotel to board a steamer on Lake Geneva. A man ran up to her. She thought he’d just pushed her, perhaps in an attempt at robbery and she walked aboard before she collapsed.”
“Oh, yes, I remember that much. He’d stabbed her with a filed-down dagger, or something of the sort, hadn’t he? It was so narrow she didn’t feel it enter but she died of internal bleeding.”
Lucy was disgusted. “I might have known you’d only be interested in the gory details. For pity’s sake let’s change the subject.”
Daisy was willing. The Empress Elisabeth out of the way, her next interest was in Lucy’s relatives. Tactfully, she started with her parents, whom she knew well from visits exchanged since childhood. “How are Aunt Vickie and Uncle Oliver?”
“Same as ever. Mother’s always happy as long as she has something to fuss over. There’s never any lack. Her last letter was full of some newcomer to the village who simply can’t be trusted to make a decent job of the church flowers.”
“And how are Nancy and the Rev. Tim? And your niece and nephews?”
“Darling, do you intend to go through everyone on my family tree making polite enquiries? Spit it out: Who is it you’re really interested in?”
Pinned down, Daisy said, “Your cousin Teddy. Bad news, I’m afraid.”
“Any news about Teddy is bound to be bad news. People always assume I’m dying to hear the latest gossip about my nearest and not so dearest. I can’t imagine why.
The last I heard about was one of those stupid pranks of his.
He never refuses a bet or a dare, they say, and the more disruption it causes the better.
He doesn’t give a hoot for anyone’s opinion. ”
“Even his nearest and dearest?”
“Especially us. Has he done something outrageous since he was bound over for driving the wrong way round Marble Arch in the rush hour? What is it now? Weren’t you asking about him just the other day?”
“No, you were telling me about him. You hoped he wouldn’t be at Haverhill for your grandfather’s birthday.”
“He wasn’t. Uncle James was furious. Aunt Josephine was upset but as always she excused him. ‘Young people are all so busy these days,’ or some such folderol. Busy making mischief, my dear cousin Teddy.”
“And Angela?”
“Angela?” Lucy said vaguely. “I saw her, I think, but I didn’t talk to her. I’ve never heard her say a word to anyone except her dratted dogs.”
Daisy could not deny that Angela Devenish was far from loquacious, though she could be eloquent in defence of the mistreated animals she rescued. “She gives talks for the RSPCA to Women’s Institutes.”
“Animals are her only subject of conversation. What her relations are with her brother, I haven’t the foggiest. Come on, you were about to tell me about his latest shameful exploit. Does he deliberately set out to embarrass the family, one wonders? Or is it merely a side effect?”
“Now you’ll never find out.”
“What? You don’t mean … Daisy, he’s dead? In suspicious circumstances, knowing your proclivities. Not, by any chance, stabbed while boarding a Swiss steamer?”
“No, much worse, I’m afraid. At least, once the press get hold of the story—”
“Spare me the details! You’re not expecting me to break the news to his grieving parents, I trust.”
“Heavens no. That’s a job for the police. I only told you because of meeting you today. I could hardly sit here eating with your cousin lying dead and not even mention it.”
“True. I’d just as soon hear it from you, in any case. You won’t expect me to pretend I’m grief-stricken.”
“Hardly. What I want is more information about why you aren’t grief-stricken. What exactly has he been up to?”
“You want or Alec wants?”
“Alec’s away. He has nothing to do with this.” Daisy made a moue. “Not yet.”
“So you’re in a hurry to involve yourself before he comes back to stop you.”
“Well, yes, of course. Not that he’s ever had much success with that.”
“What do you want to know? I do my best not to listen to stories about Teddy.”
“I don’t suppose you know who his friends are? Were?”
“Not friends of mine! I see—used to see—him in nightclubs now and then. Ciro’s, the Kit-Cat, Murray’s. Those are the only ones Gerald and I ever go to, but I daresay Teddy frequented some less respectable places, the kind that have gambling rooms upstairs.”
“You didn’t see whom he was with? Any particular girl?”
“Darling, once having spotted him, I kept my eyes turned away for fear of meeting his. It was only a couple of times, anyway. I’ve seen him at fashionable parties, too, where it would be more difficult to avoid acknowledging him if it weren’t that he seems equally anxious to avoid us.”
“So some hostesses still invite him, in spite of his reputation.”
“He is well connected, Daisy, and very well off, and a bachelor.”
“Hmm. Which suggests he’s not associated in people’s minds with any particular young lady. Didn’t you say something about a breach of promise suit, though?”
“That would be a young woman, not a young lady.”
“Of course, darling, but you’d think it would put off any hopeful mamas.”
“Not the more ambitious of them.”
Daisy sighed. “Awful though the war was, at least it spared us the horrors of coming out. I would have hated to be a debutante.”
“I might have rather enjoyed it. Still, we had fun in Chelsea, being independent.”
“Even living on sardines and mousetrap cheese. It was inspiring living amongst artists and writers and musicians.”
“Teddy had his independence handed to him and I don’t believe for a moment he was seeking inspiration when he frequented the artsy-craftsy set. Free love, more likely.”
“I remember you said he’s in with the Chelsea set. In reference to the breach of promise suit?”
“Possibly. Russian émigrés, I’ve heard. The father claims to be a prince, like most who aren’t anarchists.”
“Some really are princes. Or were.”
“He might have been, for all I know. He’s selling off jewels, I believe, and it’s conceivable that he came by them honestly.”
“Not likely to be advocates of free love, then, like the anarchists! I don’t suppose you know their name?”
“No.” Lucy shrugged. “One of those unpronounceable Russian names, no doubt. Darling, you’re not going to try to investigate them? It could be dangerous. Don’t foreigners go in for stabbing more than the English?”
“For pity’s sake, don’t tell a soul I said he was stabbed! That’s the sort of detail the police are most anxious to keep from the press.”
“I shan’t tell. All the same, Daisy—”
“I’m not going to sweep in and start asking questions. I’d just like to find out who they are before Mackinnon even knows they exist. He never did get round to asking me whether I’d heard anything else about Teddy from you.”
“From me! You didn’t tell him I was Teddy’s cousin, did you? Second cousin.”
“I couldn’t help it.” That sounded rather feeble and unconvincing, so she rephrased it more forcefully: “It was unavoidable.”
“So your inspector’s going to come and bombard me with questions? Insufferable!”
“How can he investigate without asking questions of people who know the answers? Your attitude is exactly why he’ll need my help. Teddy’s respectable friends and acquaintances will all climb up on their high horses and refuse to cooperate, and the artsy lot will go bolshie and refuse to cooperate.”
Lucy laughed. “More than likely,” she conceded. “All right, I’ll be good. Within reason. I suppose the ends of justice must be served, even if Teddy’s no great loss to the world.”
“He was still young. Who knows? A lot of great statesmen sowed their wild oats in their time.”
“Name one.”
“Well, I’m sure there were a few. And great authors and artists, too. Did you stay in contact with any of the Chelsea crowd?”
“Ah, I wondered when you’d get to that. Yes, as a matter of fact. One or two. Do you remember Genevieve Blakeney?”
“Vaguely. Sculptor?”
“Painter. She started doing designs for dress material and some of her stuff has become quite fashionable.”
“You? Patron of the arts? Or, no, patron of fashion.”
“It doesn’t have to be one or the other. That’s beside the point. Do you want an introduction? A reintroduction, rather?”
“Hmm.” Daisy pondered. “What I really need is to speak to as many people as possible. Best would be one of those informal parties, where if one turns up with a bottle no one worries about invitations.”
“Then you don’t need me to wangle an invitation for you,” Lucy pointed out.
“No, but you could find out the where and when.”
“I expect so.”
“And go with me. If you were feeling well enough.”
“That’s another matter! I suppose I might, if you couldn’t find someone else.”
“It wouldn’t be at all Phillip’s cup of tea.”
“Phillip? Who’s Phillip and what has he to do with taking you to parties?”
“Phillip Petrie. You must remember him.”
“Of course. But he went to America.”
“He’s over on business. I’m going to have him escort me to some nightclubs.”
“Daisy! You could always wrap him round your little finger, but won’t his wife object? Not to mention Alec.”
“Gloria stayed over there. She’s in the same ‘interesting condition’ as you. When Alec comes home, I’ll tell him I’m thinking of writing an article about today’s bohémiens. Which isn’t a bad idea, come to think of it.”
“From all I hear, our nightclubs aren’t a patch on American speakeasies. Besides, Alec would offer to take you himself. That would put paid to your investigation.”
“Most unlikely. I think it’s a jolly good scheme.”
Lucy sighed. “I suppose you can’t come to much harm with Phillip. As long as you stick to the respectable places. Promise you won’t go to the dives Teddy frequents—frequented.”
“Even if I wanted to,” Daisy said regretfully, “Phillip would never agree. As far as he’s concerned, I’m still Gervaise’s little sister.”