Terror by Gaslight (8 page)

‘Oh, I’m sure there’s no danger in the afternoon, Mrs Butters. The Maniac has never struck in daylight.’

Mrs Butters sighed. ‘There’s always a first time, that’s what I say.’

‘Besides, the police are everywhere. There’s a bobby behind every bush. I had a nice talk with one.’

‘Talk’s all very well but they didn’t stop those poor young men being murdered, did they? With respect, miss, I say you were taking a risk.’

‘A risk worth taking, if it brings my Ella back.’

‘Well, I pray it does. With all my heart.’ Then the housekeeper remembered her duties. ‘Shall I put your things away, Miss Harriet?’

‘Don’t get up now. They can wait till you’ve finished that
job.’ Harriet took off her coat and gloves and put them on the back of a sofa. Then she sat down in an armchair and picked up a piece of embroidery. Now she was ready to impart the big news of the day.

‘I met a young man on the Heath this afternoon.’

The older woman’s interest was swiftly aroused, together with considerable alarm.

‘What sort of young man, if you don’t mind my asking?’

‘A very young young man. More of a boy, really. Fourteen or fifteen, perhaps.’

‘A boy of fourteen? Out there alone?’ Mrs Butters was shocked. ‘What can his mother be thinking of?’

‘Alas, I fear he may not have a mother,’ said Harriet. ‘But he appeared well able to look after himself, and he seemed quite at home in those surroundings. He said he was gathering firewood.’

‘Well, there’s plenty of that about. But what was he going to do with it?’

‘That’s the surprise. He seemed so at home out there, I thought perhaps he lived on the Heath. Some people do, I’m told. But no, he lives in the house next door! Dunblane! He was gathering firewood for Dr Frankel!’

‘Oh. The boy from Dunblane,’ said Mrs Butters, a little disappointed at having the mystery peter out so tamely. ‘Yes, they always keep a boy at Dunblane. Mrs Piper at the grocer’s says they use him very badly. They feed him scraps, and he has to do all the rough work. It seems he’s just a slave.’

‘That’s what he told me. He wants to get away.’

‘I wish him luck, poor little devil. To tell you the truth, Miss Harriet, although it’s not my place to say so, I don’t like that Dr Frankel. I wish the master didn’t have him treating you. I don’t think he’s a nice man.’

‘Oh,’ said Harriet, without much conviction, ‘I’m sure my father knows best. Dr Frankel has an unfortunate manner
but I believe he’s very clever. He does a lot of research, you know.’

‘So they say,’ said the housekeeper, darkly. ‘Goodness knows what that means. Mrs Piper says there’s a lot of funny things go on in that house. I hope that poor boy gets away soon.’

Harriet attempted to drive from her mind the picture of her medical adviser cutting up animals, and strove to regain her former cheerfulness.

‘Anyway,’ she said brightly, ‘he’s going to try and find Ella for me. And the policeman said he’ll keep an eye open too.’

‘Well, the more the merrier, I say.’ Mrs Butters held up a fork, to inspect it in the fading light. There’d been a blemish which had required extra polishing. But now it seemed to have gone. She gave the fork a final rub, replaced it with the others, and asked, ‘D’you think those notices will help, Miss Harriet?’

‘One can only hope, Mrs Butters. But I believe the guinea reward should create some interest.’

The housekeeper was impressed. ‘Goodness me! If a guinea doesn’t do the trick, I don’t know what will!’

‘I only wish I could afford to offer more,’ said Harriet.

‘It’s my belief your Ella just wandered off. Cats like a change, you know. She may come back of her own accord.’

‘Pray God she comes back alive,’ said Harriet. ‘I miss her terribly.’ She snipped the silk thread she was using, and changed the subject. ‘I suppose my sister’s writing in her room?’

‘That’s right, miss. These days she seems to spend all her time there.’

Harriet sighed. ‘She loses herself in her work, lucky girl. And she’ll do anything to avoid speaking to our father.’

‘Such a shame, that is. It’s not natural.’

Suddenly, Harriet was alert. ‘What was that? It sounded like our garden gate.’

‘I didn’t hear anything, Miss Harriet.’

Harriet put down her embroidery and hurried to the window. ‘I’m sure I heard the gate open. Or close.’

‘Well, your ears are younger than mine, and that’s a fact.’

Harriet peered through the window and instantly cried out in alarm.

‘What is it, miss?’

‘There’s a strange man by our gate! A horrid-looking man, all wild and dishevelled! He’s staring in!’

Mrs Butters rose. ‘Let me come and have a look.’

‘Come quick! Oh heavens, he’s seen me!’

The housekeeper dropped a spoon, picked it up, and advanced across the room, mumbling, ‘These legs aren’t as fast as they used to be.’

‘Yes, he’s seen me!’ cried Harriet. ‘He’s running away!’

The housekeeper arrived at the window and surveyed the scene outside. ‘Well, I can’t see anyone, miss.’

‘Too late. He’s disappeared into that clump of trees.’

‘Sounds like he’s more frightened of you than you are of him. So you needn’t worry, miss.’

‘But I do, Mrs Butters. I saw him yesterday. Some sort of tramp, with dirty clothes and hair down to his shoulders. He comes up to the gate and stares at our windows.’

Mrs Butters plodded back to her chair. ‘You’d better tell your father, miss.’

‘I don’t think he’d believe me.’ Harriet sat down again in her armchair and picked up her embroidery, without enthusiasm. ‘He’d say I was imagining things. Like he did when I told him about the whistling I sometimes hear at night. He got angry when I mentioned that.’

‘He’s not an easy man to talk to, that I will say. Makes things awkward, that does. I’ve got something I’d like to tell someone about. Something very odd. But I don’t fancy speaking to the master.’

Harriet looked up with interest. ‘Something odd? What do you mean by that?’

‘Well … a sort of … a contraption.’

‘A contraption? Where?’

‘It was when I moved some logs in the garden shed. There was this funny-looking thing behind there, like it might be some sort of weapon. And it had some sticky stuff on it. I thought it might be … well … dried blood.’

‘Blood?’ The younger woman was amazed. ‘Surely not. It must be paint. Or something for the garden.’

‘Well, it might be. But I wondered if I should tell the police.’

Harriet was very alarmed at the suggestion. ‘Oh no! You mustn’t tell the police, Mrs Butters! Father would be furious! He says the police always create scandal! He doesn’t want them coming here any more.’

The housekeeper pondered as she shone up the last of the dessert spoons. Satisfied, she laid it in the large-spoon section of the velvet-lined case in front of her. Then she yielded the point. ‘I daresay you’re right, miss. But I do feel I should tell someone who might know about these things.’

‘In that case,’ said Harriet, ‘perhaps you should tell that Major Steele. He may be more discreet than the police.’

It was the older woman’s turn to be shocked. ‘The detective? But he’s not allowed to come here! I shan’t be seeing him!’

‘I’m afraid you will, Mrs Butters. Quite soon. My sister is determined to collaborate with him, and she’s advised him to call when Father is out. I think she’s arranged for him to come this afternoon.’

‘Oh no!’ cried the housekeeper. ‘Not again! That Miss Clare, she’ll never learn! She’ll bring disaster on all of us!’

‘I cannot dissuade her, she is older than I am. I can only try to avoid being involved myself.’

‘Heaven help us! Those men are coming here today?’

‘Apparently. And as they’re to be with us anyway, you might as well tell them of your discovery.’

As the housekeeper struggled to digest this advice, the hall door opened and Clare came in, with a bright greeting.

‘Good afternoon, Harriet.’

The response was muted. ‘Hello, Clare.’ Harriet bent over her embroidery without looking up.

‘Mrs Butters,’ said Clare, ‘I’m expecting two visitors.’ She glanced at the clock. ‘Twenty minutes to five. Not too late for tea, I think. Will you bring some, please?’

‘If you say so, Miss Clare. But … would it be that major and his friend?’

‘Yes, Mrs Butters, it would. So please serve the best tea. I expect they’re quite discriminating.’

‘Forgive me, miss, but is that wise? You remember what the master said.’

‘I do,’ said Clare. ‘And I remember what he did. But tyrants must not prevail. You may rest assured that all precautions have been taken. I have ascertained that Mr Austin has an important meeting in his office at half past five, which he will not want to miss. And our visitors will use the front door.’

‘The front door, miss?’

‘When they used the garden door, Dr Frankel saw them and warned Mr Austin. He’s less likely to observe them approaching by the road. Also, I believe Major Steele has some other plan to avoid detection.’

‘Well, I tell you, Miss Clare, I’m frightened.’

Clare sought to reassure her. ‘You need not be. Should this visit ever come to light, which is very unlikely, I shall make it known that you were out shopping and knew nothing of it. Now the tea, please, Mrs Butters.’

‘Very well, miss. I pray you don’t have cause to regret this.’
Shaking her head, the housekeeper left the room and closed the door behind her.

Now Harriet looked up. ‘Clare, why are you so keen to help these detectives?’

‘You have it the wrong way round, sister. It is not a question of us helping them, but of them helping us.’

‘Helping us? By catching the Maniac, you mean, and making the Heath safe again?’

‘That, of course. But we have a more personal need. I truly believe that our father has wicked plans affecting our future. Especially yours, Harriet. I think he may already be embezzling money which should come to you.’

Her younger sister was appalled. ‘Oh, Clare, surely not!’

‘We shall see. We’ve been given the heaven-sent opportunity to have two professional detectives look into the matter. We must make the most of it.’

‘You are wrong about our father, Clare. He is strict and bad-tempered but I believe he has our welfare at heart.’

‘If you believe that, dear sister, you must also believe that the earth is flat.’ Clare went to the door, opened it, and paused. ‘I’ve found some items relating to my mother that Major Steele wishes to see. I must fetch them from my room. If the gentlemen arrive before I return, please receive them well. They are our friends.’ And with that she left, closing the door behind her.

Harriet tried to resume her needlework but her mind was too troubled. She put down the silk and went to the window, half excited, half fearful, at the thought of what might meet her eyes. But this time there was nothing to see in the gloom, except a tall man walking an Alsatian dog. The man carried a heavy stick, as walkers did on the Heath these days.

As she surveyed the darkening scene, Harriet heard a knock at the front door, and then male voices mingled with that of Mrs Butters.

Moments later, the drawing-room door opened, and the housekeeper ushered in the two expected guests, unexpectedly dressed in expansive blue overalls and large boots. John Mason carried a toolbag. This unwelcome duty completed, Mrs Butters withdrew, still shaking her head.

Somewhat startled, Harriet nevertheless recalled Clare’s words and greeted the newcomers pleasantly, if a little uncertainly. ‘Good afternoon, gentlemen. It is Major Steele and … er … your colleague, isn’t it?’

‘It is, Miss Austin. Please forgive this attire. I thought our arrival might attract less attention if we looked like workmen, here to do a job. Mind where you put that bag down, Jack. We don’t want the ladies tripping over it.’

‘You look very convincing, I must say,’ ventured Harriet.

‘Thank you, miss,’ said Mason. ‘I think you’re right. A lady in the street asked us to come and repair her pipes.’

‘Alas,’ said Steele, who seemed to be in good humour, ‘we had to say we were too busy. It would have made a pleasant change from poring over documents.’

‘No doubt,’ said Harriet brightly. ‘My sister will be here shortly, gentlemen.’ And then she added what she felt she needed to say. ‘Major Steele, I must make it clear that your business here is with Miss Clare. I fear I cannot be of any assistance in your inquiries.’

‘That is understood, Miss Austin. However, you could do us, and yourself, one small service without becoming involved.’

Harriet could not help being intrigued. ‘A service? Of what kind?’

‘I should like you to ask your father one small innocent question, which cannot give offence. Your sister could convey the answer to us.’

‘Then could not she be the one to ask Father the question?’

‘They are not on good terms, I think. I doubt if he would give her the courtesy of a reply.’

Harriet acknowledged her error. ‘You are right, of course. It is a very sad situation.’ She took a deep breath. ‘Well, Major, what is this question? Will my father suspect it comes from you?’

‘Not at all. It is a very natural question between father and daughter. You can ask it as if it had just come into your head.’

‘Please tell me what the question is.’

‘You know that many local people bathe in Highgate Ponds in the summer?’

‘Yes. Dr Frankel recommends it as good exercise.’

‘Excellent. That will make it easier for you. I want you to tell your father you’d like to take up swimming. Ask him if he will escort you to the ponds. Ask if he could help if you got into trouble. In short, Miss Austin, I want to know if your father can swim.’

‘How strange.’ For a rare moment, Harriet was almost amused. ‘Well, that seems harmless enough. I will ask him when I have the opportunity, and give the answer to Clare.’

‘Thank you,’ said Steele, and then the door was pushed open and Mrs Butters brought in a tray bearing tea things and a plate of biscuits.

‘Miss Clare asked me to make tea for the guests,’ she said, putting the tray down on a table. ‘I’m sorry, there’s no cake.’

‘Thank you, Mrs Butters,’ said Harriet. ‘I’m sure biscuits will be fine. Will you serve the tea, please? My sister is fetching some things from her room.’