Manor House 04 - Dig Deep for Murder (22 page)

To her dismay, he halted and came to stand in front of her. "Got it all worked out, didn't you? Why didn't you say something if you knew so much?"

"Because I wasn't sure. I knew someone had been in the cottage since the night Fred disappeared. The pillows and bedclothes had been straightened since the first time I came here. I thought at first it was Fred, but then things started falling into place. The black dust on the stair rail was coal dust. Once you get it into your clothes it's almost impossible to get out."

"Too right. Which is why I'm wearing Fred's clothes now. Nice that we're the same size, isn't it? I'm surprised you recognized me at the funeral. I even tried to limp like him."

"I just wasn't sure. I had to be sure if I was going to disrupt a funeral. If I'd been wrong, it would have been most distressing for everyone." Hoping to send him pacing again, she looked up at him. "Why did you go to the funeral?"

"Betty was supposed to give me the money there. I didn't want to risk going to the house again. That nosy neighbor of ours knows everything that goes on." He started pacing again. "Besides, I thought I should be at my own funeral. I suppose I was curious to see if anyone would come and see me buried. I thought if anyone saw me, they'd just think it was Fred. But then you had to go and mess everything up, didn't you? I knew as soon as I saw you coming toward me, there was going to be trouble."

He reached the edge of the room and began to turn. Seizing her chance, Elizabeth propelled herself from the chair and hurtled across the room. She barely managed to crack the door before Reggie pounced on her from behind. Her frantic scream was cut off by his hand across her
mouth, and his voice whispered words that filled her with dread.

"Oh, no, your ladyship. You're not going anywhere. I can't let anyone else know I'm still alive. You're going to have a nice rest under the stairs. I'll have to tie you up, I'm afraid, so you can't get out. By the time they find you, it will be too late. The next funeral at St. Matthew's Church will be for the sad passing of the lady of the manor. God rest her bloomin' soul."

CHAPTER

16

Violet eyed the solemn faces of the three children. "All right, if you want something to eat, you'll have to earn it. Patsy, you can pull up three extra chairs from over there." She nodded at the far wall. "Maureen, you can help me lay the table." She squatted down in front of the smallest child. "Let's see, Jenny, what can you do to earn your supper?"

Jenny's face screwed up as if she were about to cry. "I've got to wait 'til supper?"

Violet smiled. "No, dearie, I was joking. You'll have lunch with the rest of us. I've got a nice stew on the stove, and tapioca pudding for afters."

Jenny's little face brightened. "I like tabi . . . that white stuff."

"Well, that's settled then." Violet straightened. "You can lay out the serviettes. One next to each plate. We won't have much elbow room, but we'll manage."

Patsy dragged a kitchen chair to the table. "Will Sadie have lunch with us?"

"Sadie usually has hers later, after she's finished her jobs." Violet handed Jenny a pile of white linen serviettes. "But Martin will be here any minute, and Polly will be down from the office, and I expect Lady Elizabeth will be here, too."

"Is that the pretty lady what lives here?" Maureen asked.

Violet gave her a sharp look. "Just how long have you three been hiding in the Manor House?"

Maureen shrugged, and Patsy said quickly, "Only a few days, honest. We didn't have nowhere else to go."

"How did you get here?"

"On a hay cart. Farmer Jenkins was taking a load of wheat to the market, and we hid in it. When he stopped at the crossroad, we got off. That's when we saw this big house on the hill. I thought it was such a big house, no one would notice if we hid in it. And no one would have"—she glared at Jenny—"if someone hadn't made a noise after I told them not to."

Jenny responded by sticking out her tongue.

"Well," Violet said briskly, "I suppose we'll have to notify this Farmer Jenkins that you've been found. They must be worried about you. Not to mention your parents. They must be worried to death."

"Please don't send us back." Maureen started to cry. "I don't want to go back to that nasty, mean man. I want to go home. I want me mum."

"So do I!" Jenny started crying, too, and even Patsy's lower lip began to tremble.

"All right, all right, no one's going to send you back there, don't you worry." Violet glanced at the clock. "When Lady Elizabeth gets home, we'll all sit down and discuss it. She'll know what to do."

"She won't send us back, will she?" Patsy asked anxiously.

"Not when she knows what those bug . . . beggars did to you. Now let's get this table laid, so we can sit down the minute she gets here."

Violet looked up as the door swung open to reveal Martin, one hand still raised, his face a mask of astonishment as he stared at the children.

After a long moment, he found his voice. "I say, I say, I say! What do we have here?"

Jenny giggled nervously, and her sisters stared at the butler with wary eyes.

"We have three guests, Martin. This is Miss Patsy, Miss Maureen, and Miss Jenny."

Martin looked solemnly from one to the other. "How do you do? I'm very pleased to make your acquaintance."

The girls mumbled a reply.

Martin looked at Violet. "I don't think the master would be happy to know his daughters are playing in the kitchen. I remember how testy he was when he discovered Lady Elizabeth here."

Violet sighed. "These are not the master's daughters, Martin. The master had only one daughter. These three are simply our guests."

"Oh, no." Martin shuffled forward, and all three girls retreated behind Violet. "I recognize them. I've seen them talking to the master in the great hall many times."

Violet gave up. "Very well, Martin. The girls will be joining us for lunch. Please see that they are seated." She glanced one last time at the clock. "It doesn't look as if her ladyship intends to join us today."

Martin grasped the back of a chair and hauled on it in an attempt to pull it out from the table. The chair didn't budge.

After watching his second attempt, Patsy boldly went up to him, took hold of the slats in the back of the chair, and lifted it out.

"Oh, I say, jolly decent of you, Miss."

Martin reached for the second chair, but Patsy darted ahead of him and pulled out all the chairs from the table.
"My grandad's old like you," she told him. "We have to help him lift things, too."

"Old?" Martin did his best to straighten his back. "I can assure you, young lady, I am not old."

"No, he was born with wrinkles and those five gray hairs," Violet muttered.

Maureen giggled.

Just then the door swung open again. Expecting to see Elizabeth standing there, Violet opened her mouth to ask why she was late, then closed it again when she saw Major Monroe frowning at her.

"Excuse the intrusion," he said sharply, "but have you seen Elizabeth?"

Violet lifted her chin. "
Lady
Elizabeth is not here at present. If you'd care to leave a message—"

She broke off as the major advanced into the room. His gaze flicked over the curious faces of the children, then fastened on her face. "
Lady
Elizabeth," he said deliberately, "went to a funeral this morning. Her motorbike is parked outside the church. The funeral was over two hours ago. The lady is not at the church, and no one seems to know where she is."

"No doubt her ladyship is visiting one of her tenants."

"Without taking her motorbike?"

"That does sound a bit odd." Violet frowned. "You don't think—"

"I don't know what to think." Earl flicked another glance at the children. "Though I do think we should discuss this outside."

Violet bent over the stove to turn down the gas under the stew. "All right, you three, you can start with a slice of bread and marge. I'll be right back to dish out the stew. Talk to Martin until I get back."

As she followed the major out the door, she heard Patsy ask Martin, "Why do you wear such funny clothes?"

Violet could only guess what kind of answer the child would get.

Out in the hallway, she gazed up at the major with a
sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. "You sound as if you think something's happened to Lady Elizabeth."

"I'm worried, that's all. I just happened to pass by the church, and saw her motorcycle. I stopped to say hi, but she wasn't there. And she's not here. So where did she go without her motorbike?"

The major had a grim expression on his face that made Violet nervous. "It does seem a bit strange she just went off and left it. Not like her at all. And she was supposed to be home for lunch. She usually lets me know if she's going to be late."

"Right. I guess I'd better go look for her." He glanced at his watch. "Any ideas where to start looking?"

Wary of jumping to the wrong conclusions, Violet wasn't sure how to answer him. Lizzie had said nothing to her about where she might be going after the funeral. "Well, I suppose she could be anywhere. She could be at Bessie's tea room, or the town hall. She could be visiting one of her tenants . . . or she could be shopping in the High Street."

"I'll try them all. I've got a couple of hours before I have to be back at the base. In the meantime, if she comes home, tell her to stay put until I get in touch with her. I'll try to call from the village before I go back to the base."

Beginning to feel worried now, Violet nodded. "Let me know if you find her."

Earl touched the brim of his cap with his fingers. "Promise. Don't worry, she's probably fine. You know how sometimes she gets a bee in her bonnet and takes off without thinking. Probably didn't intend to take so long over whatever it was."

She did know, but it intrigued her that the major knew Lizzie well enough to know it, too. One thing he was wrong about, however. She would never just forget about her motorcycle. Something pretty important must have taken her away from that, and kept her away all this time.

Whatever it was, Violet reflected as she returned to the kitchen, she had an uneasy feeling it wasn't good.

Elizabeth winced as Reggie jammed a face flannel in her mouth and bound it with adhesive tape. Already her arms and legs were tingling with the pain of being strapped tightly into the chair. Her jaw ached where he'd hit her with his fist when she wouldn't stop struggling and yelling. She just prayed he wouldn't hit her again.

"I should kill you here and now," Reggie muttered, rubbing his shin where her well-aimed kick had connected with bone. "But that would make it too easy on you. I'll let you suffer here in the dark, until you run out of air, or starve to death. Whatever comes first. Though I do hear that a person dies pretty quick from thirst."

Guessing that it was more a case of his not having the stomach to kill her, Elizabeth sat quietly, afraid of setting off that vicious temper again.

Finally, he was done. He backed out of the cramped space and bent low to peer at her. "Sorry I can't leave a light on for you. I don't want it shining through the cracks. Not that you're going to need a light for long. Farewell, your ladyship. I'll think of you when I'm sailing for Ireland."

The door closed, and she was plunged into darkness.

Immediately, her brain buzzed with questions. How soon would Violet realize she was missing? How long would it be before someone thought to look for her here? Even if someone came to the cottage, would anyone think to look under the stairs? It was doubtful. With the thick flannel in her mouth, she could barely muster a low whimper. No one would hear her through the heavy paneling.

She peered in the direction of the door, looking in vain for light. In spite of Reggie's fears, there didn't seem to be the slightest crack in the thick boards. Unless someone had the sense to think of opening the door, she could be trapped there for days. Weeks. Forever.

A tremendous wave of depression almost overwhelmed
her. She tried to fight it. Tried not to think about what might happen to her. Tried, instead, to look on the positive side. Someone would find her. Someone had to think of searching Fred's empty cottage.

Her pulse leaped as she remembered something. Sadie! She'd given her orders to come down and clean the cottage. Her spirits sank again almost immediately. But not until tomorrow. How could she stand it, sitting here through an endless day and night that merged into endless hours of blackness?

What if she couldn't make Sadie hear her when she did get there? How long before the air in this tiny, stuffy crawl space gave out? Would the girl think to open the door under the stairs? All she could hope was that her new housemaid was that thorough. And until then, she had a long, lonely wait.

"I think we should give all three girls a bath," Violet declared, when Sadie returned to the kitchen late that afternoon. "They'll look a lot more presentable when Lady Elizabeth comes home."

Sadie ushered the three loudly complaining girls out of the kitchen, leaving Violet alone to pace back and forth, agonizing over what to do. She tried to ignore the cold feeling in her stomach that kept getting stronger with each passing hour. The major had rung more than an hour ago to say he hadn't found Elizabeth and had to get back to the base. He'd suggested that Violet ring the police, but she was reluctant to do that. Lizzie would never forgive her if she raised a hue and cry over nothing.

Yet, as the afternoon hours dragged on without any word from her, Violet was beginning to think she might have to do that after all. Polly kept coming down to the kitchen, asking if there was any word, until Violet finally lost patience and ordered her to go home and rest.

Finally, after yet another hour passed without any word, she lifted the telephone and rang the police station.

"It's about Lady Elizabeth," she told George, when he
answered. "I don't know where she is. I think she might be missing."

"That's usually the case when you can't find someone," George said, in his slow, irritating voice.