The Riddle at Gipsy's Mile (An Angela Marchmont Mystery 4) (6 page)

‘
They
’
re expecting me back at the station, so I
’
d best get off, if you don
’
t mind, sir,
’
said P. C. Bass as t
he sergeant went off to do as he was bid.

‘
No, carry on,
’
said Jameson.
‘
Willis and I shall follow you shortly. We are going to scout about here for a few minutes, but then I shall want to talk to Sergeant Spillett and the inspector, if he
’
s there.
’

P. C.
Bass retrieved his bicycle from where he had leant it against a tree and rode off with a wave. The small boy, who had shown signs of wanting to stay until the end, was remunerated and dismissed. He led the horses away, but stopped some distance down the r
o
ad to observe the proceedings.

Angela, William and Inspector Jameson watched as the car was hitched to the lorry and towed away in great state.

‘
I hope she
’
s going to be all right,
’
said William mournfully. He was very fond of the Bentley and was suffering
severe pangs of guilt for having run it and his mistress off the road.

‘
I
’
m sure she will,
’
said Angela.
‘
And anyway,
’
she added as an afterthought,
‘
we can always buy another one if she
’
s not.
’

William brightened up immediately at the thought.

‘
How are y
ou going to get back to your friends
’
house?
’
asked Jameson.

‘
Oh, we
’
ll walk,
’
said Angela.
‘
It
’
s not far
—
not more than a mile and a quarter, I should think.
’

‘
Willis can give you a lift, if you like. I am going to stay here and look for clues
—
always assum
ing they haven
’
t all been destroyed by a Bentley, its passengers and two cart-horses.
’

‘
Don
’
t make me feel worse than I already do,
’
said Angela.

‘
I
’
m sorry
—
I was just teasing,
’
he replied.
‘
If it weren
’
t for you, we
’
d never have found her in the first pla
ce.
’

‘
I suppose not,
’
she said.

Angela looked down at the tracks left by her car as it came up the bank. The deep grooves at the bottom of the slope had begun to fill with a muddy ooze as the water from the ditch seeped into them.

‘
Look,
’
she said suddenly.

‘
What is it?
’
said Jameson.

She pointed at the depression that had until a few minutes ago been occupied by the Bentley
’
s near side back wheel. There, squashed and filthy and ground into the mud, was something that might once have been blue.

The inspecto
r whistled in surprise and called over Sergeant Willis. William came to look too. They all gazed at it.

‘
Well, someone
’
s going to have to get it,
’
said Jameson at last.

‘
I
’
ll do it, sir,
’
said Willis, but Jameson waved him away.

‘
No,
’
he said resignedly.
‘
It shall never be said that we Jamesons quailed in the face of a bit of mud. Wish me luck,
’
he said to Angela.

‘
I shall wave my handkerchief,
’
she said solemnly.
‘
However, if you want to get down without sliding all the way I suggest you take the same rout
e we did yesterday. Those bushes provide plenty of handholds.
’

‘
Ah, yes,
’
he said, and did as she advised, reaching the bottom of the bank without too much difficulty. He made his way back along the water
’
s edge to where the thing was and bent to retrieve
it.

‘
Why, it
’
s a hat!
’
said Angela.
‘
So she was wearing one after all. We must have landed on top of it and squashed it flat.
’

‘
Is there anything else, sir?
’
asked Willis.

‘
I don
’
t think so,
’
said Jameson after looking around.
‘
I
’
m going to come back up.
’

He did so, and arrived at the top safely, holding his prize. They all looked at it. It was in a sorry state
—
battered, filthy, sodden and practically unrecognizable, but it was most certainly a hat.

‘
Pity it
’
s not a handbag,
’
said Jameson.
‘
If it were, we m
ight be able to find out something about her.
’

‘
I wonder,
’
said Angela,
‘
might I have a look, inspector?
’

He handed it to her. She took it gingerly, pulled the squashed edges apart and peered into it. Then she put her hand in, as though feeling for somethi
ng.

‘
Ah!
’
she said, and brought something out carefully.

‘
Why, it
’
s a ticket for the cloak room at Charing Cross!
’
said Inspector Jameson, taking it. It was wet, but quite clean.
‘
Where was it? In the inner hat band? Why on earth did she keep it there?
’

‘
O
h, I
’
ve often kept things in my hat band, myself,
’
said Angela.
‘
I
’
m dreadful for losing bits of paper and it
’
s a jolly good way of keeping them safe.
’

‘
Then she must have come down from London,
’
he said,
‘
possibly in the company of the fellow who killed h
er. We
’
ll have to start inquiring at the railway stations hereabouts if the local police haven
’
t done that already. Hastings is the most obvious one, I imagine. We want to know whether they saw a blonde woman wearing a blue coat and hat arrive in the last
few days, and if so, whether she was with a man. It
’
s a long shot but somebody might remember something. I wonder if they hired a car?
’

‘
She might have come down alone, of course,
’
said Angela.
‘
Perhaps she was visiting someone here in the area.
’

‘
Yes
—
we
’
l
l have to look into that too. But the first step will be to go and get whatever it was she left at Charing Cross. With any luck it
’
ll be a suitcase with her name on it!
’

‘
Yes, that would be helpful,
’
agreed Angela. Her curiosity was fully aroused now, and
she was just about to make some more suggestions when she remembered that by rights all this had nothing to do with her. She bit back her intended remark and resolved to leave it all to the police, who presumably knew what they were doing.

‘
We
’
d better get
over to Littlechurch, Willis,
’
said Jameson.
‘
Can we offer you a lift?
’

‘
No, you go and do your duty, inspector,
’
said Angela.
‘
We shall be quite all right. It
’
s not far.
’

‘
Just as a matter of interest,
’
said Jameson,
‘
why are you here? I mean, why didn
’
t
you leave William to see to the removal of your car?
’

There was a pause. Angela blushed slightly.

‘
Oh, very well, I
’
ll admit it,
’
she said all in a rush.
‘
I was curious to see the scene of the crime again. I can
’
t help it
—
I think murder has got into my bl
ood.
’

‘
I thought as much,
’
he said.
‘
Yes, it can take one that way. Be careful, Mrs. Marchmont. Remember that curiosity killed the cat.
’

‘
Thank you,
’
she replied.
‘
I know that only too well.
’

She and William watched as the two men drove away, then set off
themselves in the direction of Gipsy
’
s Mile.

‘
It sure seems a queer business, ma
’
am,
’
remarked William as they walked.
‘
I don
’
t like to think of that poor woman lying there in the dirt for hours or even days.
’

‘
No,
’
agreed Angela soberly.
‘
I hope the polic
e can find her killer soon. I hate to think of him getting away with it.
’

‘
It
’
s a funny coincidence that they called Inspector Jameson in on the job, of all people.
’

‘
Yes,
’
said Angela.
‘
He must be quite tired of tripping over me everywhere he turns. But h
e
’
s a very capable man, and if anyone can solve the case, he can. I wonder, though
—’

She paused, and William glanced at her sideways.

‘
What?
’
he asked.

‘
Oh, it
’
s nothing,
’
she said.
‘
I just wondered what Inspector Jameson was not telling us.
’

The tree
s grew black and thickly, stretching their arms skywards and entwining one with another to form an arched roof of green leaves and yellow moss. Angela walked along the woody tunnel, feeling rather as though she were in a church, except that the floor bene
a
th her feet was of dirt, and the pews were tree-roots. The nave of this place of worship appeared to go on for miles and the walk was beginning to tire her out, but she was determined to reach the altar far ahead of her, which was formed of a silver birch
tree that extended its branches gracefully upwards to the heavens. She wanted to reach it, but the faster she walked the farther it seemed to recede. Eventually, it disappeared altogether and she clasped her hands together in desperation. As she looked ab
o
ut her, however, she suddenly noticed that the dirt path branched off to her left, and ended in a little glade a short way away. Almost of their own accord, her feet followed the new path, and soon Angela saw ahead of her something blue, lying slumped on
t
he ground, bathed in a beam of sunlight that had found its way in through the verdant canopy. As she came closer, she saw it was a woman in a blue coat, lying on her back, her face completely hidden by a covering of moss and mud. She knelt down next to th
e
corpse, then suddenly everything changed and she saw that it was not a woman at all, but the body of a man dressed in a smartly-tailored suit and a straw hat. Something glittered at the corner of her vision, and when she looked to see what it was, she sa
w
to her surprise that his hand was clutching what appeared to be a diamond necklace. She felt something stir in her memory and peered more closely at the dead man. His face was quite obscured, and yet she was sure she recognized him from somewhere. Her he
a
rt thumped. Could it perhaps be
—
?

‘
Goodness me!
’
exclaimed Angela, waking up and sitting bolt upright in bed, her hand to her throat. She looked about her wildly, then slumped back against the pillows in relief as she realized that it had just been a dream
. She was in her bedroom at Gipsy
’
s Mile, and they were going to have Sunday lunch at Blakeney Park, and she was going to spend much of the day avoiding Cynthia Pilkington-Soames and laughing at Freddy. Yes, that was it. It was all quite clear now. She wa
i
ted until her breathing had slowed, then groped for her cigarette-case and lit one, feeling extremely disconcerted and not a little betrayed by her treacherous subconscious.

It was still early, but there was no getting back to sleep after such a dream, so
Angela rose and dressed, then went downstairs. She expected to be the first one up, and so she was surprised to find Miles and Herbert sitting in close conference over cold meat and coffee. They looked up guiltily as she entered, and then greeted her so h
e
artily that Angela was sure they had been talking about her. Perhaps they had been discussing the shady past she was supposed to have had, if one were to believe Freddy. She pretended not to have noticed anything, and helped herself to coffee and toast.

‘
W
hat time are we expected at Blakeney Park?
’
she asked.

Miles attacked a slice of ham.

‘
Noonish, I think,
’
he said.
‘
Gil
’
s not a stickler for time-keeping himself, but one has to arrive reasonably punctually in order to stay in Lady Alice
’
s good books. You
shall meet her today, Angela.
’

‘
Is she as formidable as she sounds?
’
asked Angela.

‘
Oh, she
’
s not a bad old stick once you get to know her,
’
said Herbert with a guffaw.
‘
Rather formal and stuffy, perhaps, but easy enough to get around.
’

‘
She gives Gil plen
ty of headaches, though,
’
said Miles.
‘
She won
’
t let him rest, poor fellow. And he
’
ll be kept just as busy once he
’
s married, too.
’

‘
It
’
ll do him good,
’
said Herbert.
‘
The rest of us have to put up with being browbeaten by our womenfolk, so I don
’
t see why
he should get out of it.
’

‘
Shall they be happy, do you think?
’
asked Angela curiously.

Miles hesitated.

‘
Yes, I believe they shall,
’
he said.
‘
Lucy is a fine girl, and Gilbert
—
well, you
’
ve met him, haven
’
t you? He
’
s an excellent chap
—
brave, and loyal and
great-hearted, and all that
—
but he
’
s never going to set the world alight. And he
’
s the only one left to run that enormous estate of his. He needs Lucy. I
’
ve no doubt she
’
ll be the making of him.
’

Herbert was nodding vigorously in agreement.

‘
You
’
re both ve
ry fond of him, aren
’
t you?
’
said Angela, smiling.

‘
Difficult not to be fond of a chap when you
’
ve been through Hell with him,
’
said Herbert gruffly.
‘
He saved my life, you know. If it weren
’
t for him I should have taken a sniper
’
s bullet through the heart
. Shouldn
’
t be here today, in fact.
’

‘
It
’
s a great shame he wasn
’
t put forward for a medal,
’
said Miles.
‘
There was no-one to match his bravery in the face of the enemy. He ought to have stayed in the army, really.
’

Herbert gave a sudden roar of laughter.

‘
I say, Miles,
’
he said.
‘
Do you remember those two days we spent in Paris?
’

Miles raised his eyebrows humorously.

‘
If they
’
re the two days I think you mean, I
’
m not sure Angela ought to hear about them,
’
he said.

‘
Oh
—
ah
—
perhaps you
’
re right,
’
said Herbert
, suddenly embarrassed.

‘
I
’
m simply dying to know, now,
’
said Angela.

‘
Ah, well, now, you see, the fact of the matter is
—’
said Herbert.

‘
Yes?
’
said Angela innocently.

‘
Stop teasing him, Angela,
’
said Miles.
‘
Our behaviour while on leave was perhaps not th
e most dignified, but in those dark days one had to take one
’
s fun in whatever way it presented itself.
’

‘
I know that very well,
’
said Angela.
‘
I lived through it too, of course.
’

‘
But I thought you were safe in America then.
’

‘
Not all the time,
’
said Ange
la, and turned the subject.

Soon afterwards, Marguerite breezed in in her usual dramatic fashion. She was wearing a glorious orange kaftan with gold stripes, and a gold turban.

‘
Good morning, darlings,
’
she said.
‘
How early you all are today! Angela, I hav
e just been talking to your young man. What a delightful boy he is! Wherever did you find him?
’

‘
Why, in the States of course.
’

‘
And so handsome, too! Americans are so good-looking, I always find.
’

‘
As a matter of fact, he was born in England,
’
said Angela.

‘
Really?
’

‘
Yes. He has led a most interesting life. He was born into a family of acrobats who moved to the States when he was very young. He grew up performing with the family troupe, and then went on to star in vaudeville.
’

‘
How thrilling!
’
said Marguer
ite, clasping her hands together.
‘
But however did he end up working as your chauffeur?
’

‘
It
’
s rather a long story,
’
said Angela,
‘
but I happened to render him a service on a particular occasion
—
quite by chance, as it happened. We rather took to each other
, so I asked if he would care to come and work for me, since I was looking for a driver and man-of-all-work at the time, and he had already mentioned that he was tired of his life on the road. He
’
s awfully impertinent and familiar
—
not at all like an Engli
s
h servant
—
but I don
’
t mind that, and he
’
s terribly loyal, so we get along famously.
’

‘
I see,
’
said Marguerite. There was a gleam in her eyes, and Angela, who knew her friend well, wondered whether she ought perhaps to give William a warning, although he wa
s surely old enough to look after himself.

At a quarter to twelve, Angela found herself sitting with Freddy Pilkington-Soames in his little two-seater as they drove along the narrow lanes towards Blakeney Park. When not affecting incurable boredom, Freddy
was rather good company, and Angela laughed
—
guiltily, it is true
—
at some of his more acerbic remarks about the party.

‘
I see Marguerite has got her hooks on your driver,
’
he said slyly, somewhat to Angela
’
s surprise. Before she could determine whether or n
ot to admit to having noticed the same thing, he went on,
‘
I shouldn
’
t worry, though
—
she
’
ll lose interest quickly enough. She did in me.
’

At that, Angela opened her eyes wide and turned to him sharply.

‘
Freddy!
’
she exclaimed. He nodded and she hardly knew
whether or not to laugh at his complacent expression.
‘
But
—
did you
—
?
’
she said hesitantly.

‘
I shall say no more, for I am the very model of discretion,
’
he said.

‘
Oh!
’
she said, disappointed.

‘
But rest assured, William will soon be yours alone once more.
’

‘
Don
’
t be absurd, Freddy,
’
she said.
‘
I don
’
t make a habit of dallying with the servants.
’

‘
Then perhaps you ought,
’
he said, wagging his eyebrows significantly. This was too much, and Angela burst out laughing.

‘
But what about Miles?
’
she asked finally.