Fire When Ready (Manor House Mystery) (8 page)

"Ray was at the fire the other night," Polly was saying. "Saw the roof cave in, he did. Never thought for one minute Mr. McNally might be inside. It wasn't until the firemen brought out the bodies that Ray found out his boss
were dead. Said it made him feel so bad he couldn't ride his bicycle back to the pub. So he walked all the way back and then had to go back and fetch his bicycle yesterday morning."

"Oh, dear." Remembering how shocked she'd been to hear of the tragic deaths, Elizabeth could sympathize with the young man. Losing his father must have been hard. She still hadn't fully recovered from losing both her parents so suddenly. Now the poor boy had lost a father figure in his life. So sad.

"Anyway, I reckon it's up to me to try and make him forget his troubles," Polly said, sounding so grown up Elizabeth had to smile.

"I'm sure you'll do a wonderful job," she told her assistant. "And when your young man is feeling better, I'd like to talk to him about what he saw the night of the fire."

Polly looked worried. "He doesn't like to talk about it, so he might not tell you very much."

"That's all right. I won't pressure him. I'd just like to know if he saw something that might help . . ." She broke off, aware that Polly was looking at her rather intently. She hadn't intended to voice her suspicions that the fire had been deliberately set. Then again, it would be only a matter of time before word got around. The village grapevine was more active than bees in a bed of roses.

"Ray said the fire was an accident," Polly said, looking uncertain. "He said as how the firemen said someone's cigarette fell in a bin of rags. They asked him lots of questions about it."

So Ray Muggins was the young man Dave Meadows had mentioned, Elizabeth realized. "Well, there's no reason to think otherwise at this point."

"But you think someone might have done it on purpose."

There was a tinge of fear in Polly's voice. Elizabeth hurried to reassure her. "Not at all. I just want to get everything straight, that's all. The fire chief seemed to be going on a lot of assumptions, and I thought I owed it to Mr. McNally to find out exactly what happened if I could."

It sounded lame, even to her ears, but at this point Elizabeth was not about to admit her doubts. For one thing, if someone was guilty of arson, it wouldn't do to alert him that she was on his trail. Better to let him, or her, think he got away with it.

"You think it was the three musketeers?"

Elizabeth frowned. She had to admit, that hadn't occurred to her. The musketeers were a band of mischief makers, possibly from an airbase near London, who seemed intent on causing as much grief as possible to the American airmen based near the village. So far the miscreants had been accused of everything from preventing the local farmers' chickens from laying to spoiling the milk at the Adelaide's dairy farm to poisoning several American airmen.

It had turned out that the musketeers had been guilty of none of these catastrophes. Nevertheless, they were responsible for damaging American Jeeps, causing accidents on the road, and generally making themselves a thoroughly unpleasant menace. It was only a matter of time before they became more reckless and caused more serious damage. Perhaps this was one of those times.

Elizabeth glanced at the clock. "I think I will take a run down into the village. I shan't be long. Perhaps you can take a look at these bills for me and sort out which are the most important. As usual, we won't be able to pay them all this month."

"I'll be happy to." Polly jumped up and gathered up the letters from Elizabeth's desk. "Better be careful, though,
going down that hill. It's turned bitter cold out there again. There was ice on the road this morning when I came up on me bicycle. All the way up the driveway, too. And on the front step."

"I'll be careful," Elizabeth promised, touched by the young girl's concern.

Polly nodded, then said awkwardly, "I hope I didn't say nothing out of place just now. About the fire, I mean. I wouldn't want to get no one in trouble."

Elizabeth smiled. "Don't worry, Polly. I'm sure the firemen are right and it was all just an unfortunate accident." At least she would have been sure, she told herself as she hurried down the steps to the front hallway, if it hadn't been for that locked office door.

George seemed surprised to see her when she walked into the police station a little later. "I was just thinking about you, your ladyship," he told her, as she sat down on the visitor's chair. "I have some news that will please you, I do believe."

Elizabeth tugged off her fur gloves. "You've found out who set the fire at the factory?"

George's smile vanished. "Pardon me for saying so, but I've already told you the fire was an accident. I do hope and pray you're not going to make this out to be more than it is. We have enough trouble on our hands without going looking for more."

Elizabeth sighed. "George, have you ever known me to make trouble where none exists?"

"No, m'm, but I know how you are."

What exactly did that mean
, Elizabeth wondered. Deciding that particular question could wait, she said firmly, "I'm as anxious as you are not to raise unnecessary fears in the residents of Sitting Marsh. I do, however, feel it my duty to
assure them that a crime has not been committed. After all, two people have died under suspicious circumstances."

George's bushy eyebrows shot up. "Suspicious?"

Elizabeth leaned forward. "The door, George. The office door. It was locked. Mr. Meadows didn't seem to think that was at all odd, but in my opinion, it seems very odd for Mr. McNally to lock himself inside an office while the charlady is cleaning it."

George took a great deal of time shuffling papers around on his desk. He actually looked embarrassed, enough for Elizabeth to demand sharply, "George? Is there something you're not telling me?"

The constable shrugged and, avoiding her gaze, muttered, "I was only thinking; maybe McNally was engaged in a bit of hanky panky with Jessie. She was a good-looking woman. And you know what they say about gypsies."

Elizabeth didn't. Nor did she want to know. "That's nonsense. Douglas McNally didn't strike me as the sort of man who would engage in such nefarious conduct."

"What did Dave Meadows say about it?"

She clasped her hands together and straightened her back. "I have to tell you, George, I was not impressed with the man. He kept insisting that there was no need to suspect arson, and yet his conclusions were all drawn on conjecture. His speech was peppered with the words 'think' and 'perhaps.'"

"Beg your pardon, m'm, but I suppose that was the best he could do since the place was in such a mess."

"Yes, well, I was wondering if perhaps our nasty little musketeers had anything to do with that."

George's eyebrows twitched again. "Why would you think that?"

"They seem to have been the cause of a lot of trouble in the village over the past few months."

"Like I keep telling you, your ladyship, the fire at the munitions factory was an accident. Pure and simple. If the musketeers had anything to do with it they would have left their trademark. And nobody said nothing about letters being chalked on the walls or on the ground, and I can't see them going to all that trouble without letting people know they done it. They've always left three M's behind. Nope, as far as we're concerned, the fire chief's report is official. It were an accident. The case is closed."

"How long did it take the fire brigade to get to the factory, anyway?" Elizabeth demanded. "Is that in your report?"

Having apparently taken note of the irritation in her voice, George hastily shuffled through the papers on his desk again. "I don't see it here, your ladyship. I shall have to go through the files for it."

"It's right here," a voice piped up from the back office. Sid appeared in the doorway, looking a little disheveled, with what was left of his gray hair standing up on end. Sid had a bad habit of raking fingers through his hair when he got confused, which was nearly all the time. He held some papers, which he waved at Elizabeth.

George surged to his feet and snatched the papers from his partner's hand. "Thank you, Sid," he said, in a tone that suggested Sid would hear a good deal more about his intrusion later.

Sid grinned at Elizabeth. "Just wanted to help, that's all. That were some fire the other night, your ladyship. Lit up the whole sky, it did. Looked like Guy Fawkes Night, it did. If the Germans
had
been flying around, they would have seen it for miles."

"You saw it, Sid?" Elizabeth inquired. "Did you hear the explosion?"

Sid nodded with great enthusiasm. "I did, indeed, m'm. Woke me and the missus up, it did. I told her, soon as I heard it, that's something big, I said. I thought it were a bomb, until I got there and the firemen told me it were an accident. Quite a few people were enjoying the spectacle up there."

"Anyone you recognized?"

Sid opened his mouth to answer, when George rudely butted in. "Sid has some important business to take care of, don't you, Sid?"

Sid sent him a vacant look. "I do?"

"Yes, you do." George pointed a finger at the door. "In the back room. All those files have to be put away."

"Bloody office boy, that's all I am," Sid grumbled. "Join the police force, they said. Enjoy a life of adventure. Nobody said nothing about spending most of your time doing boring paperwork. All that filing and making out reports makes you crossed-eyed, I swear."

"Sid!"

George's roar made even Elizabeth jump.

"All right, I'm going." Sid nodded at Elizabeth. 'Ta ta, your ladyship."

George rolled his eyes but Elizabeth nodded graciously. "Good morning, Sid."

"I'm sorry, your ladyship," George muttered, when Sid had disappeared. "He means well, but he's a little short on the old pistons, if you know what I mean."

"I heard that!" Sid called out from the back office.

"Anyway," George said hurriedly. "I wanted to tell you the good news. That quack in North Horsham what operated on the Adelaide girl . . . what was her name? Barbara?"

Elizabeth sat up. "Barbara, yes, that's it. You found him?"

George nodded with satisfaction. "That fiend will never operate on anyone else, I can promise you that."

"Thank God." The year before, Elizabeth had promised a bereaved mother that she would find the monster who had caused her daughter's death. Ever since then she had hounded George to track down the brute. She could still see Annie Adelaide's face when she was describing how her youngest daughter had an abortion and bled to death as a result of the botched efforts of a fake doctor. She nodded with satisfaction. "I hope the news will bring the Adelaides some peace."

"My sentiments exactly, m'm. They seemed pleased when I told them." George peered meaningfully at the clock on the wall. "Now, if you'll excuse me . . ."

"The report, George?" Determined not to be distracted from her purpose, Elizabeth pointed at the papers on his desk. "May I see it?"

George tightened his lips. "I'm afraid not, your ladyship. This is police business, and as such, shall remain private. The case is closed as far as we are concerned, and I sincerely hope you will let the matter rest."

Elizabeth got to her feet and pulled on her gloves. "I can't do that, George. Two people died in that fire, locked inside an office. Having seen the office myself, I know it has one of those locks that operates on both sides of the door. I'm not going to let anything rest until I know why Mr. McNally locked that door. And if he didn't lock it himself, that means someone else must have locked it from the outside. Which would mean, if I am right, that we have a particularly heinous murderer in our midst."

CHAPTER

6

One of the reasons she missed Earl so much, Elizabeth reflected as she coasted cautiously up the icy hill to the mansion, was that she had no one to talk things over with at the end of the day. So often she could sort things out in her mind after having spent an evening over cocktails in the refectory with Earl.

This was one of those times when she wished desperately he were there to share her concerns. Admittedly, she had only her own instincts to go on, but she couldn't ignore the feeling that everyone was missing something. Something important.

Maybe McNally did have a good reason to lock the door that night. After all, it was a munitions factory, making arms and ammunition to help destroy an enemy. Some of the
information he had stored in his files had to be sensitive material and not for everyone's eyes. Especially a charlady, who might be inclined to spread the news of anything she might find out about such an important and controversial business.

But then, if the woman was already in his office, and he with her, why would he need to lock the door? According to Wally, they were the only two people in the building besides himself. It just didn't make sense.

She absolutely refused to believe that Douglas McNally was involved with his charlady. Then again, she might have been more ready to accept the fire was an accident, had it not been for the threatening letters Mr. McNally talked about.

Having reached the entrance to the Manor House driveway, Elizabeth cut down her speed. Cruising slowly up the avenue of trees, she sorted out in her mind what she already knew.

Wally had been woken up by the explosion and had barely escaped from the smoke-filled building. Fred Shepperton, less than half a mile away, had also woken up, got dressed, and rode his bicycle down to the Tudor Arms—about a ten minute ride—to alert the fire brigade. He'd then returned to find Wally on his way to the farm and had given him a ride back to the factory.

It would have taken the fire brigade at least thirty minutes to arrive at the factory, at which time they had broken down the door of the office and found the two bodies. The big question was, if McNally and Jessie had heard the explosion, which obviously they must have done, why hadn't they made any attempt to leave?
Because the door was locked from the outside?

Elizabeth roared into the courtyard and cut the engine. No matter what the fire chief's report said, or what George believed, something was wrong with that whole
picture. And, since nobody but her seemed concerned about that, it was reasonable to assume that she alone would have to solve the puzzle.