The Droitwich Deceivers (6 page)

BOOK: The Droitwich Deceivers
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‘Good afternoon. I wonder if Mrs Huddlestone is at home?’

‘I’m afraid you must have the wrong address miss. This is number 22,’ replied the young housemaid.

‘No, I believe I have the correct address. I was told that Mr and Mrs Huddlestone resided here.’

‘You are mistaken, miss. This house belongs to Miss Jameson and her sister.’

‘And how long have they lived here?’ persisted Lucy.

‘For nearly thirty years I believe; long before I came.’

‘I see. Perhaps you know of someone else with the name of Huddlestone who lives in the square?’ asked Lucy hopefully.

‘I’m sorry miss, I know of no one in this neighbourhood called Huddlestone, although there was a young girl, now I think about it, who knocked on the door last week, who was asking to see the same person,’ replied the housemaid, a puzzled expression on her face.

‘I wonder if it might be possible to speak to your mistress?’

‘I don’t know about that, miss. Mistress is not taken to receiving unannounced visitors.’

‘It is a very urgent matter. I would be very much obliged,’ pleaded Lucy.

‘Well I suppose I could ask, miss.’

‘Thank you,’ smiled Lucy.

‘Whom shall I say is calling?’

‘My name is Mrs Ravenscroft. My husband is a police inspector.’

‘If you would just wait here, ma’am,’ said the maid closing the door.

Lucy looked across the square towards the drab, austere church hall and wondered whether she had been somewhat impetuous in her decision to seek out the Huddlestones of Cheltenham. Perhaps it would have been wiser to have consulted her husband first, and to have allowed him to make enquiries? That would have been the more prudent course, but the unexpected events of earlier that day had prompted her to bring about a swift reunion between the unfortunate young woman and her abandoned child. The address at the top of the letter had clearly stated number 22 Suffolk Square, and yet no one of that name appeared to reside in the vicinity. All she could do was hope that the owner of the property would allow her to call unannounced, and that such an interview would furnish the information she was so anxious to obtain.

‘Miss Jameson says you may call upon her,’ announced the maid.

‘Thank you.’

‘If you would care to follow me, ma’am.’

Lucy followed the maid across the hall and into a spacious drawing room, where she found herself standing in front of two elderly ladies.

‘Mrs Ravenscroft, ma’am,’ announced the maid.

‘Mrs Ravenscroft,’ said one of the ladies coming forwards to
meet her. ‘Florence Jameson. How can my sister and I be of assistance to you?’

‘I am sorry for the intrusion ladies. I was under the impression that a Mrs Huddlestone resided here.’

‘I believe that our maid has already informed you that there has never been anyone of that name who has resided here. My sister and I have lived here for over thirty years.’

‘So I believe. Perhaps I might explain the reason for my visit?’ asked Lucy somewhat nervously.

‘Then you had best take a seat, Mrs Ravenscroft. Can we offer you some refreshment?’ said the other elderly lady.

‘No, thank you,’ replied Lucy seating herself on the chair Miss Jameson indicated.

‘I understand that your husband is a police inspector?’ enquired the first speaker.

‘Yes. We reside in Ledbury. My husband would have come in person to see you, but he has been called away on urgent business to Droitwich.’

‘So you have chosen to come in his place?’ smiled the second sister.

‘It is rather a delicate matter. Earlier today, ladies, a young woman called upon me at home and told me a rather distressing story – of how under pressing circumstances, she gave away her infant daughter to a person of the name Huddlestone, whom she believed resided at this address.’

‘Gave away her daughter!’ exclaimed the two sisters, speaking almost in unison.

‘I am sorry, ladies, I did not mean to cause alarm.’

‘I think you had better explain as soon as possible, Mrs Ravenscroft.’

‘Yes, of course.’

During the following few minutes, Lucy recounted in full the detailed events of earlier that day.

‘What an extraordinary story!’ said one of the sisters.

‘So you understand, ladies, why I felt it necessary to call upon you. I felt I had to do all I could to reunite this poor woman with her daughter.’

‘It is indeed a very sad account you have presented to us, Mrs Ravenscroft, and although my sister and I have a great deal of sympathy for the young lady in question, and also commend you for your admirable concern, we nevertheless do not see how we can be of any assistance to you in this matter. As already stated, we have lived in this house for over thirty years and have never met anyone of the name of Huddlestone in all that time.’

‘I see,’ said Lucy looking dispiritedly at the neatly folded hands in her lap.

‘May we see the letter you mentioned?’

‘Of course.’

‘Ah, I see that our address has indeed been hand written at the top of the notepaper. If you would care to follow me, Mrs Ravenscroft, across to the bureau.’

Lucy rose from her chair and walked over to the writing desk.

‘You will see that all our notepaper has the address clearly printed at the heading of each sheet, so your letter could not possibly have been written here. It would seem that the writer of your letter must have written it elsewhere.’

‘So it would seem, ladies.’

‘Perhaps we could consult the local directory, sister, there may be a Huddlestone listed under another address,’ suggested the other Jameson sister.

The first sister opened a red covered book that lay on top of the bureau and handed it to Lucy.

‘It would seem, ladies, that Miss Corbett has been given the incorrect information,’ said Lucy after a few moments of
turning over the pages. ‘There is certainly no one of that name who resides in the town.’

‘Dear me,’ said the other sister sympathetically. ‘What will you do now, Mrs Ravenscroft?’

‘I must confess, ladies, that I am at a loss. Why this Mrs Huddlestone should have given this address to poor Miss Corbett, I do not know. It seems that we have been cruelly deceived. Perhaps my husband will know how to proceed further in this matter. I must apologize for calling upon you ladies so unexpectedly, and thank you both for your time and concern,’ said Lucy feeling embarrassed, and anxious to leave as quickly as she could.

‘I am sorry, Mrs Ravenscroft, that neither my sister nor I could throw any light upon this strange affair. I hope that you will be able to reunite mother and child.’

‘Yes – I thank you again, ladies. Good day.’

A few minutes later, as Lucy made her way along the streets of Montpelier towards the railway station, she was overcome with feelings of inadequacy and disappointment. When she had set out on her journey from Ledbury earlier that afternoon, it was with the expectation of discovering Mrs Huddlestone and the infant child at the house in Suffolk Square, and of eventually being able to reunite both mother and child. But now that she had learnt the awful truth, that the woman who had taken the child had clearly lied about her circumstances, Lucy now found herself returning home with a sense of foreboding and anxiety. Worse still, she now had to explain to an anxious mother that her journey had been in vain.

‘S
ir Charles will see you now, Inspector.’

‘Thank you, Mr Brockway.’

Ravenscroft and Crabb had returned to Hill Court, and after waiting in the hall for a few minutes, were about to be admitted into the study.

‘Ah Ravenscroft, I suppose you have no news of my daughter?’ asked Chilton looking up from some papers that lay before him on his desk, as they entered the room.

‘We have made extensive searches of the railway line, river bank and canal towpaths and there is no sign of your daughter, Sir Charles,’ replied Ravenscroft.

‘I suppose that must be something. Now look here, Ravenscroft, I’m damned displeased with you, man!’ growled Chilton.

‘I am sorry, sir,’ said Ravenscroft taken aback by the sudden outburst. ‘I assure you, sir, that we are doing all we can to find your daughter.’

‘No, not that, man. Going behind my back and talking to my wife without my permission. A gross intrusion of privacy!’

‘Forgive me sir, but—’ began Ravenscroft.

‘No, sir, I will not forgive you. My wife is of a delicate
disposition
.
This business has upset her tremendously. She is devoted to my daughter. I thought I had clearly informed you that she was indisposed.’

‘Sir Charles, if I am to solve this case and bring your child safely back to Hill Court, it is imperative that I question everyone I can, and that includes your wife,’ protested Ravenscroft feeling increasingly discomforted by the baronet’s anger.

‘The servants said you intruded into my wife’s
dressing-room
, completely unannounced!’

‘I was walking on the landing, Sir Charles, when I heard what I thought was crying, and thinking that someone was in distress I opened one of the doors—’

‘Damn it man, you had no right! No right at all! I shall have words with your superior,’ threatened Chilton banging a fist down on the desk before him. ‘We will ask someone else to take over the case.’

‘I am sorry, Sir Charles. I have no desire to cause any members of your family any more distress. As I said, I heard crying, and thought it my duty to investigate. The cries might have originated from your daughter, whom I thought might be trapped inside one of the rooms. I did not know at the time that it was your wife who was on the other side of the door. I can assure you that once I had exchanged a few words with Lady Chilton, and had satisfied myself that the cries had not come from your daughter, I left your wife’s room as soon as I could. Of course you are free to have words with my superior if you still consider my conduct to have been a breach of etiquette. That is your prerogative,’ said Ravenscroft seeking to placate his accuser.

‘Yes, yes,’ interrupted Chilton in an irritable tone of voice. ‘I would be obliged, sir, in the future, if you would kindly ask my permission before you speak to my wife again.’

‘Of course sir,’ replied Ravenscroft, grateful that the other’s anger had subsided.

‘I hear you have been to see Russell. Why?’

‘Yes sir, because I understand that you and Mr Russell have had a recent falling out,’ said Ravenscroft, noting Brockway’s unease in the corner of the room.

‘The man is a time waster and philanderer,’ stated Chilton.

‘I believe that you wished to purchase some land from Mr Russell, but that he was not inclined to sell?’

‘Wanted too much for it. I told him I was buying the land because I believed there was salt beneath it, not gold. You think Russell has my daughter?’

‘I have no evidence to suggest that is the case.’

‘You searched his buildings?’

‘No sir.’

‘Well don’t you think you should have?’ demanded Chilton, staring hard at Ravenscroft.

‘As I said sir, I have no cause to think that Mr Russell has taken your daughter,’ said Ravenscroft, wishing that his interview with Sir Charles would come to a swift conclusion.

‘Would have thought a search was imperative.’

‘I do not believe that Mr Russell has your daughter.’

‘Suppose you know what you are doing,’ grumbled Chilton looking down at his papers.

‘I will keep you fully informed, sir,’ said Ravenscroft.

‘Yes, yes.’

‘Oh, one more thing, Sir Charles. How did you come to employ Miss Petterson, your daughter’s governess?’

‘Miss Petterson?’

‘Yes sir, did she come recommended to you?’

‘I don’t know. My wife deals with all that kind of thing.’

‘And have you been pleased with Miss Petterson’s conduct?’ asked Ravenscroft.

‘Look, I don’t know where all this is leading Ravenscroft. My wife and I have had no cause for complaint against Miss Petterson, and Mildred I believe is quite fond of her. Don’t see that any of this has any relevance. I suggest that you get on and find my daughter, Ravenscroft. Now I have business to attend to.’

Ravenscroft and Crabb made a hasty exit from the study, closing the door after them.

‘Prickly character,’ muttered Crabb.

‘Yes indeed. He certainly did not approve of my
questioning
his wife. I wonder whether her condition has something to do with his overbearing manner? Don’t you also find it strange that when we arrived here this afternoon, we were kept waiting for a full ten minutes before Brockway admitted us to the study? If it had been my child who had been abducted in such a fashion I would have wanted to hear the latest news as soon as possible, yet it appears that Sir Charles is more interested in his business affairs than the recovery of his own child.’

‘What next sir?’ asked Crabb.

‘We need to speak to the governess again; I feel that she may be the solution to this mystery.’

‘Where might she be?’ asked Crabb.

‘We could try the schoolroom. I believe it is located on the top floor.’

The two men made their way up the winding staircase onto the main landing, and then climbed the narrower wooden stairs that lead to the upper reaches of the house. Here Ravenscroft knocked on the door of one of the rooms, and was rewarded by a voice he recognized.

‘Good day to you, Miss Petterson,’ said Ravenscroft entering the schoolroom.

‘You have news of Mildred?’ asked the governess rising
quickly from her school desk and coming forwards to meet the two policemen.

‘I am afraid we have little to report, Miss Petterson.’

‘I see,’ replied the woman turning away.

‘We have made thorough searches of the area around Vines Lane, so we can only conclude that whoever took your charge must have left the town,’ said Ravenscroft.

‘Then we may never find her,’ added the governess sadly.

‘I hope that we will find her eventually, although that of course may depend on certain people assisting us in our enquiries, and being truthful in their answers,’ emphasized Ravenscroft.

‘I have told you all that I know.’

‘Forgive me, Miss Petterson, if I say that I do not believe that you have been telling us the truth. May we sit down?’ asked Ravenscroft observing that the governess’s face had become flushed.

‘Yes, of course.’

‘Now Miss Petterson,’ said Ravenscroft seating himself on one of the chairs, ‘Do you still maintain that you entered the church with the aim of discovering which hymns had been selected for next Sunday’s service?’

‘That is what I said, Inspector. I have no cause to say
otherwise
.’

‘It may interest you to know, Miss Petterson, that we have learnt that the vicar has not yet chosen next Sunday’s hymns,’ said Ravenscroft looking intently at the governess over the top of his spectacles.

‘Yes … but I did not know that at the time I went into the church. It is the usual practice to change the hymns on a Tuesday.’

‘Begging your pardon miss, but you did not say that when we questioned you yesterday,’ interjected Crabb.

‘I forgot. Of course I went into the church to see what the hymns were, and when I realized that they had not been changed, then I came away.’

‘This could not have taken more than a few seconds Miss Petterson, and yet you claimed that you were inside the church for a full five minutes,’ said Ravenscroft noticing the woman’s unease as she gripped the handkerchief that lay in her lap.

‘Perhaps it was less. I am not sure. No, I remember now. Some of the hymn books were spread untidily over the pews. Yes, I picked up the books and returned them to the
side-table
; I like things to be neat and tidy, and in their proper place. That is what took the time. I am sorry if I have not made myself entirely clear on this matter. Since poor Mildred has disappeared, my mind has been very unsettled. You must forgive my lack of clarity.’

Ravenscroft smiled to himself. ‘Miss Petterson, did you meet anyone inside the church?’

‘No. I would have said if I had. There was no one else there.’

‘You did not arrange to meet anyone in the church?’ asked Ravenscroft realizing that the governess had been put on her guard.

‘No, of course not.’

‘I would like to turn now to another matter. When we talked with you yesterday, you mentioned that you had been previously employed in the household of Lord and Lady Roberts of Warminster.’

‘That is correct.’

‘It may interest you to know, Miss Petterson, that we have made enquiries in Warmister, and that today we received a reply by telegram to these which states quite clearly that Miss Petterson the governess died in Warminster five years
ago. How do you explain that?’ asked Ravenscroft confronting the governess and observing her closely.

‘I … er … there must be some mistake?’

‘There is no mistake, I can assure you. I have the telegram here.’

‘I cannot understand … I was employed by Lord and Lady Roberts,’ protested the governess.

‘Then you would have no objection to accompanying us on an excursion to Warminster. I am sure that Lord and Lady Roberts will be able to confirm or deny your story,’ said Ravenscroft beginning to rise up from his chair. ‘Shall we go now, Miss Petterson?’

‘All right, I will tell you everything,’ said the governess anxiously.

‘I wish you would, Miss Petterson. The truth would save us all a great deal of time,’ said Ravenscroft leaning back in his chair.

‘Dear me, this is so difficult. I do not quite know where to begin. Miss Petterson was my sister, Margaret. It was she who was employed by Lord and Lady Roberts in the capacity of governess. I also worked in the house as a ladies maid. My sister died as the result of catching an infection which lead to a fever. It was so unexpected. One day shortly afterwards I saw an advertisement in
The Times
, asking for a governess here at Hill Court. I had in my possession all my sister’s past references, and decided to apply for the position: I professed to be my sister seeking a new position. That is how I came to be here,’ replied the governess looking down at her hands, as she continued to turn the handkerchief nervously in her lap.

‘I see,’ replied Ravenscroft. ‘Forgive me, Miss Petterson, but surely Sir Charles and Lady Chilton would have also requested references from your sister’s employer?’

‘Yes of course they did. I intercepted the request and wrote
back pretending to be Lady Roberts. It was a shameful thing to have done! I realize that now, but all I wanted to do was to better myself. I did not want to remain a lady’s maid for the rest of my life. As my sister was dead, I saw no harm in using her references,’ implored the governess, looking into Ravenscroft’s eyes.

‘Deception to obtain a position in a respectable household is a criminal offence, Miss Petterson,’ replied Ravenscroft sternly.

‘I know. I realize I have been extremely foolish, but I meant no harm by it, I can assure you. Have you never wanted to improve your standing in society? No one has been harmed by my actions, you must acknowledge that fact, Mr Ravenscroft?’

‘Miss Chilton, your charge is still missing.’

‘And I had nothing to do with that. I have told you the truth about Mildred’s disappearance. If I knew where she was, don’t you think I would have told you by now? If only I had not entered the church on that afternoon, then none of this would have happened. I suppose you are now going to inform Sir Charles and Lady Chilton of my deception? Is there anything I can say in my defence?’

‘You are not in a court of law, Miss Petterson. I know that your employer speaks well of you, and I understand that Miss Chilton is fond of you, but that does not excuse your previous conduct in this matter.’

‘Please, I emplore you not to tell Sir Charles. I could not bear that. I have done no harm, Inspector,’ pleaded the governess.

‘I am prepared to keep this conversation confidential for the moment, Miss Petterson, or at least until Mildred has been returned, but I cannot promise you that this matter can be totally overlooked,’ said Ravenscroft rising from his seat.

‘Thank you, Inspector.’

‘Oh one more thing, Miss Petterson, I wonder if you could identify this handkerchief for us,’ said Ravenscroft removing the item from his pocket, and passing it over to the governess.

‘Yes, it is Mildred’s. There is the letter “M” that I embroidered on it. Where did you find it?’ asked the governess with a look of alarm.

BOOK: The Droitwich Deceivers
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