Arsenic For Tea: A Murder Most Unladylike Mystery (A Wells and Wong Mystery) (22 page)

The bed was made. The drawers were closed. And Miss Alston’s brown handbag was sitting plumply on her pillow.

‘View-halloo, Watson!’ hissed Daisy, eyes shining. ‘I knew we’d get it in the end. I knew it!’ She leaped towards it like a cat.

‘Careful!’ I said. ‘You’ll spill it – she mustn’t know we’ve been here!’

‘Huh,’ said Daisy. ‘There’s no time for that.’

In one movement, she spun the handbag upside down and everything inside it tumbled out across the covers. It was as though Miss Alston had pinched her bag from Mary Poppins. Out came ruled paper and notebooks and biscuits and maps and set squares and a compass and a bar of Fry’s chocolate and a packet of pins and a needle and thread – and something flat and spiky, made of silver that glinted up at us.

‘What’s that?’ I whispered, and ‘What’s THIS?’ hissed Daisy, and she picked it up and peered at it. Then she dropped it as though it had burned her. ‘Hazel,’ she said. ‘You won’t believe this.
Look
.’

I looked. The silver thing was a badge, small enough to fit in the palm of my hand. It had a little silver crest at the top:
METROPOLITAN POLICE
, it read.

‘But – how did she get this?’ I asked. ‘It’s a
police
badge!’

‘Do you think she
stole
it?’ asked Daisy. ‘Gosh, what if she’s
actually
a criminal, just like Mr Curtis was? Oh, we’ve got evidence at last! Miss Alston stole from a police officer – hah! And here, under all that, are the papers that I do believe will finally incriminate her!’ Out of the bottom of the bag, with a flourish, she pulled a crumpled letter.

‘It’s from the police!’ cried Daisy. ‘Look at that official letterhead! And it says—’

I bent over her and read. ‘
Oh
,’ I said.

Daisy and I stared at each other in utter shock.

Dear Miss Livedon,

You have been assigned to an undercover post at Fallingford House, home of Lord and Lady Hastings. You will pose as governess to their young but not at all impressionable daughter, Daisy Wells, and secretary to Lord Hastings, and you are asked to watch the movements of Mr Denis Curtis, who will be arriving as a guest of Lady Hastings at an upcoming weekend party. Curtis is a notorious thief whose method seems to be to ingratiate himself with the lady of a large country house in order to gain access to the house’s contents. After a brief visit he leaves, and several priceless artefacts, usually including jewels, leave with him. We need you to catch him at it, to be blunt.

You have been furnished with the appropriate references, but Lord Hastings is of a trusting disposition, and so you are not likely to be grilled on your life story. Nevertheless, the daughter is another matter, and so it would be advisable to be on your guard around her. The name on your letters of reference is Miss Lucy Alston.

I wish you good luck, and will, of course, deny all knowledge of you if pressed.

‘
Young but not at all impressionable!
’ gasped Daisy. ‘Hazel, look, I
told
you I was famous.’

I felt that she was rather missing the point. ‘But now we know who Miss Alston really is!’ I said. ‘This is the secret she’s been hiding. She didn’t
steal
from the police, she’s one of them!’

‘Oh yes!’ said Daisy, coming back to earth.

We gaped at each other. Miss Alston a policewoman! She had been watching Mr Curtis because she had been sent to catch him.
That
was why she had been acting so suspiciously, and why Mr Curtis had threatened her on Saturday morning. He must have realized that she was really from the police. And of course, Miss Alston – Livedon – must have begun her own investigation into Mr Curtis’s death. She must have taken his notebook from his room, and then dropped it – that was why we had found it on the landing outside the nursery. When we overheard her speaking to Stephen, she had not been threatening him, she had been trying to interrogate him, to find out what he knew about the murder!

‘Well!’ said Daisy. ‘I said she was too clever to simply be a governess. Oh golly, imagine – we’ve been taught by a policewoman. An undercover one!
Hazel!
’

Then I had a thought that wriggled uncomfortably at the bottom of my stomach. ‘But if she’s a policewoman, Daisy, she can’t be the murderer. You aren’t allowed to murder people, are you, even when you’re on undercover missions?’

‘But—’ Daisy began.

‘Daisy!’ whispered Beanie, outside. ‘Daisy! Hazel! Kitty says
she’s getting out
!’

Quick as a flash, Daisy piled everything back into the handbag. It went in higgledy piggledy, and I was only glad that it had been in such a mess in the first place. Miss Alston – Miss Livedon – might never know it had been searched. Daisy seized my hand and we scuttled out. Beanie was bouncing up and down in an agony of fear, while Kitty stood with her hands pressed to her mouth. She let out a rush of breath when she saw us. ‘I thought you’d never come out!’ she hissed.

The bathroom door opened, and Miss Alston emerged, hair damp and wearing a robe. She looked around at us all – at Beanie, trembling, at Kitty, all red in the face, and at Daisy and me, both trying desperately not to look at her bedroom door. Had we closed it properly?

‘What are you doing here?’ she asked. ‘Hurry downstairs to breakfast at once. Beanie, I think your father
will
be able to come for you and Kitty today.’ And she swept into her bedroom and shut the door behind her.

‘Come on!’ cried Daisy, and she went rattling down the main stairs like a dynamo.

‘What did you find?’ gasped Kitty as we dashed along behind her. ‘What happened?’

‘Miss Alston is a
policewoman
!’ I said. ‘On a secret mission to catch Mr Curtis! She can’t have done the murders!’

‘But . . .’ said Kitty. ‘If she’s a policewoman – there are only two suspects left!’

‘I know,’ I said, and my heart sank horribly. ‘Uncle Felix . . . and Daisy’s father.’

Daisy stopped on the first-floor landing. ‘Aren’t we going to breakfast?’ I asked, because even though exciting things were going on all around me, I couldn’t stop my stomach wanting toast and marmalade.

‘NO!’ said Daisy loudly. ‘The police will be here any minute. We must speak to Chapman again quickly, and make him tell us what he’s hiding.’

Chapman was tidying Uncle Felix’s room, and he looked up as we went in.

‘Miss Daisy!’ he said. ‘Girls! What are you doing here?’

‘There’s no time for that,’ said Daisy. ‘We’ve got something we need to ask you. It’s
important
! We heard you speaking to Daddy yesterday – we know what he said to you. You saw something – something he did at Saturday tea – and now he’s making you keep quiet about it because he thinks that it’ll get him into trouble, and you believe him.’

Chapman put his hands down on Uncle Felix’s dressing table. He had gone quite grey in the face. I had that sick feeling in my stomach again, worse than ever. I wanted to get out – of the room, of Fallingford, of the whole case, from beginning to end. I wanted to go home.

‘But, Chapman, you know Daddy! He never understands how important something really is, and he never knows what’s good for him. Only remember last year, when he thought that he could make a saving by ordering kippers in bulk and then he ate five at once and they were off and he nearly expired? This is just like that. I’m sure that whatever you saw didn’t really have anything to do with Mr Curtis getting murdered. If you only told us what it was, we could tell the police that he’s innocent. Otherwise they might suspect him!’

‘No!’ said Chapman, and he thumped his hand down so that Uncle Felix’s cufflinks rattled. ‘Miss Daisy, I
can’t
. What I saw – it
proves
that he is guilty.’

‘What?’ said Daisy faintly. She clutched at my elbow, and I squeezed her arm hard. Next to us, Beanie and Kitty were gasping.

‘You can’t tell the police,’ said Chapman, and he turned round and grasped Daisy by the shoulders. His fingers were all bent and knotted, but they seemed awfully strong. ‘On your honour as a Wells, you won’t say a word.’

Daisy bobbed her head, looking pale. At that moment Chapman was truly menacing.

‘At the tea, I stood away from the table, as Lady Hastings had told me to. I saw the cups of tea being handed out. I heard Lady Hastings asking for a cup of tea for Mr Curtis. And then I saw Lord Hastings pouring something into the cup. He thought no one had seen him, but as you know, Lord Hastings has never been very subtle. Then he gave that cup to Mr Curtis. Mr Curtis did not eat or drink anything else before he was taken ill. Nothing else could have been to blame. The tea was fresh when it was handed to your father. Lord Hastings is guilty of Mr Curtis’s murder.’

‘
No
,’ whispered Daisy. ‘It can’t be! He— It must have been a mistake. How could you, Chapman? Let me go!’

She flung herself out of the room, and Chapman groaned and covered his face with his hands. I glanced back at him: his wrinkles were all heavy and his white hair downy-soft. He looked very small and sad, not at all like the smart, capable butlers in books.

I wanted to keep on believing Daisy – but despite what she said, the evidence was truly beginning to mount up against Lord Hastings. I didn’t know what to think any more.

Out onto the landing we went, and then I realized that there were new noises in the house. Heavy feet and deep voices, a whole lot of them – one with an ironic tone to it that I recognized from both my bad dreams and my better ones. My heart jumped.

‘It’s the police!’ I breathed. ‘Inspector Priestley’s here at last!’

‘Oh!’ said Beanie. ‘Now we’ll be safe!’

All of a sudden I was simply dying to go downstairs. It made my fingers tingle. As soon as I saw his coat, I thought, and the back of his head, I would know that we were all right. Nothing bad could happen with Inspector Priestley there.

But Daisy was looking paler than ever. ‘I won’t have us going to him,’ she said quietly. ‘I won’t see him! If we simply go running down to the hall and pour out everything to him, we shall look like a lot of silly schoolgirls, and while we may technically be schoolgirls, we are certainly not silly.
That
is the point.
He
must come to
us
. After all, he has consulted us before. If he has any sense, he’ll do it again. He knows who I – who
we
are, and this time more than ever, we are important. This is my house and my Detective Society.’

‘But, Daisy,’ I said, ‘if we don’t tell him what we’ve found out so far, he’ll work it out anyway. He’s clever.’

‘That may be,’ said Daisy, ‘but – I can’t just dob Daddy in as though he was anyone. You must see that, Hazel.’

I looked at her. The crease at the top of her nose was scrunched so deep that it looked as though she had cut it. There were two little spots of red on her cheeks and she was biting her lip so hard it almost hurt
me
.

‘All right,’ I said. ‘We won’t speak to Inspector Priestley. But, Daisy . . . promise, whatever happens – you won’t blame me?’

‘Hazel,’ said Daisy solemnly, ‘I would never blame you for anything. Unless, of course, it’s your fault.’

I made a face at her. There was something comforting about the fact that Daisy Wells, even in such a desperate situation, could still make a joke.

Then out of his bedroom came the one person I had been hoping we wouldn’t meet.

‘Daisy?’ said Lord Hastings, frowning and patting down his jacket. ‘Are you all right? You appear to have been upset by something. Here – I have my handkerchief somewhere – oh dear, no, that’s a sweet wrapper. And that’s string. And that’s—’

‘Daddy!’ said Daisy with a sob. ‘You’re an idiot!’

Lord Hastings looked much discomposed. ‘Daisy,’ he said, patting at her hair in much the same way as he just had his jacket. ‘Daisy! Goodness me! What’s all this then?’

‘Mr Curtis!’ gasped Daisy. ‘Daddy, this is
serious
. You’re in the most
awful
trouble.’

And then Inspector Priestley came striding up the stairs.

I remember once, a long time ago, thinking that Inspector Priestley looked like a biblical angel coming to save us. But at that moment the stairway shadows fell on the planes of his face and the tails of his coat (he never seems to take off that coat, no matter where he is) and made him look rather wicked. He saw us, and his forehead wrinkled up. ‘Miss Wells and Miss Wong,’ he said. ‘Why am I not surprised that you are mixed up in this? And this time you’ve brought your friends.’

‘Erm . . .’ said Lord Hastings, twitching and staring about wildly – at the Inspector’s feet, at the space above his head and at the banister . . . ‘Erm, good morning, Inspector. I hope . . . that is, if you need any help, I’m sure you know where to find my wife. I must just excuse myself, however – things to attend to on the estate. Pardon me . . .’ And he made a dive down the stairs. I heard his voice in the hall saying, ‘My goodness, what a lot of you there are! Pardon me, I must get by—’

‘No one is to go in or out the house, sir,’ said a deep voice respectfully. ‘Chief’s orders.’