Four Funerals and Maybe a Wedding Page 23

  “Are you all right, Granddad?”

  “What? Oh yes, love. Right as rain. Don’t you worry about me.”

  But I did worry.

  “This is stupid,” I said. “Can’t we pick that lock somehow? Do you have anything in your pockets like a penknife?”

  “I left everything up in my room,” he said. “And it’s a simple latch, not a lock. Not the sort of thing you can pick with a hairpin.”

  “I don’t use hairpins,” I said, half laughing. “We could try that piece of wood you used to open the coffin.”

  I eased myself past him down the stairs, felt my way around and located the branch. It was sturdy and too thick to slip into a lock. I tried breaking it or splitting it but it was no use. I came back to Granddad. “It’s too thick to be any good. But I could try battering the door with it. Maybe there’s one weak spot in the wood after all these years.”

  I rammed the branch against the door again and again. Crash, crash, boom echoed around the vault. The door didn’t yield.

  Then suddenly I heard a far-off voice. “Hold on. Hold on. I’m coming.”

  The door opened. I blinked as daylight flooded in and looked up as a great shape blocked the doorway. Queenie stood there.

  “Bloody ’ell,” she said. “They really are in here. Stone the flippin’ crows.”

  “Oh God. Are they all right?” It was my mother’s voice behind her. Queenie held out a hand and pulled me to my feet; then we helped Granddad up. He came out gasping.

  “Blimey, love,” he said. “I thought I’d had my chips then.”

  “You are so clever to come and find us,” I said to Mummy.

  “It wasn’t me, darling. It was your girl Queenie.”

  “How did you know, Queenie?” I asked.

  “You’re lucky your granddad liked the runner beans last night,” she said. “I went to see if the gardeners had some more. I spotted the beans and decided to pick some myself. And while I was standing among the bean poles I heard two blokes talking. And one sounded really upset and he was yelling, ‘I can’t believe you did that. Are you crazy? Someone’s bound to find them before it’s too late. They’ll know it was us and we’ll get caught.’

  “And the other voice said, ‘Not if we scarper right now. We’ll be long gone when they come looking for us.’

  “And then the first bloke said, ‘You mean get out now and meet up with the others later?’ And he says, ‘No. I mean we ditch the others. Save ourselves.’ And the first one says, ‘Phil will kill us when he finds us.’ And the other replies, ‘It’s all over anyway, isn’t it? I’m not going to swing with them.’”

  She looked from one face to the next as she talked. “So I waited until they walked away and then I came back to the house. I knew it was something dodgy but I didn’t know quite what they were talking about. Then your mum came up to me and asked if I’d seen you this morning. So I told her what I’d overheard and she said we had to go and look for you. So we looked all over the house and she said we should try this place. And Bob’s yer uncle.”

  I had never been happier to hear that expression.

  “Queenie, you are a marvel,” I said.

  We started to walk back to the house. As we approached I motioned the others closer to me. “We must be very careful what we say and do,” I said. “From what Queenie overheard we know maybe all the servants are involved. They are all in this together, whatever it is.”

  “We must go straight to the police,” Granddad said. “It’s quite possible that they’ll find your bloke hidden down in that vault.”

  “Which bloke are you talking about?” Mummy asked.

  “The missing man. Mr. Broadbent,” I said. “I think someone here on the property killed him and hid his body.”

  “Don’t be silly,” Mummy said. “I told you he absconded, didn’t I? Well, it was in the Times this morning. His body was found at the foot of Beachy Head last night. A popular spot for suicides, so the paper says.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “It’s the Times, darling, not the Daily Mirror. They don’t get things wrong.”

  “Golly.” I couldn’t find anything else to say. My whole theory was now shattered. I realized if we went to the police we had nothing to go on now. Maybe I had leaped to the wrong conclusion. Maybe Mr. Broadbent did go to Beachy Head and throw himself over. Anyway, there wouldn’t be enough left of him after that drop to prove that he wasn’t murdered first. So what could I say to the police? That we felt something suspicious was going on at the house? That Lady Anstruther might be buried in the vault and an imposter taking her place? That we were shut in that vault when we went to investigate and left to die?

  I could just see the police smiling politely and suggesting that maybe I had an overactive imagination and it was the wind, not criminals, that blew the door shut on us. So how did I prove that the body in the coffin was Lady Anstruther? How could we possibly go back to the house and act as if nothing had happened?

  “We could start by going to the retirement home where Lady Anstruther was living,” I said, frowning as I thought this through. “They’ll be able to tell us more.”

  “And where is that?” Mummy asked.

  “I’m not sure.”

  “We can’t check out every old people’s home in England,” Mummy said.

  “I’m just thinking . . .” I paused. “The old housekeeper, Mrs. Holbrook, might know. She lives nearby. Let’s go to her. She’ll be a good person to talk to anyway.”

  We approached the house. I looked at Queenie. “Queenie, can I ask you to be very brave and stay here?” I said. “That way things will seem normal and they won’t know we’re onto them. It’s clear the gardeners didn’t tell anyone else what they’d done and that they were about to abscond. So you act as if nothing has happened and if you are asked you can say that you overheard my mother saying that she wanted to go shopping and it would be good for my grandfather to have an outing.”

  “Right-oh,” she said. “I can do that. And I can listen for anything else they might say.” She broke off. “Which of them do you suspect of something, my lady?”

  “That’s just the problem. I don’t know. All we have to go on is that all the servants are new. The old servants either died or were let go. So what if they are all in some kind of scheme together?”

  “It would be quite an ideal setup for criminals,” Granddad said thoughtfully. “Master’s away. One of them gets hired, brings the rest in and they have a nice little place to carry on their criminal activities where nobody would ever suspect them.”

  “Lady Mountjoy did say there had been burglaries in the neighborhood,” I said. “I wonder if they have anything to do with that.”

  “A gang of burglars? Quite possible.” Granddad nodded.

  “Maybe they started by helping themselves to Hubert’s good stuff,” Mummy said. “Remember I commented how many things had gone and Plunkett said that Hubert had locked them away? What if he hadn’t? What if they have filched them?”

  “This is all supposition,” I said.

  “I’ve got a friend at Scotland Yard,” Granddad said. “If we go to him he’ll listen. I trained him when he was a young recruit, green as grass he was, but I licked him into shape and now he’s a detective chief inspector. So he won’t give us the brush-off.”

  “Then we’ll find that home and go straight to Scotland Yard,” I said. “Come on. Let’s get the motorcar.”

  “Hold on a minute,” Mummy said. “I think it might be a good idea if I stay here too.”

  “Why would you want to do that?” I asked. Mummy was normally the first to shy away from any unpleasantness, and staying in a house full of criminals was about as unpleasant as possible.

  She gave a delightfully elegant shrug. “Create a semblance of normalcy,” she replied. “I’ll be my usual self, quite demanding. Wanting things brought to me. Nobody will suspect that anything is up.”

  “But, Mummy, you could be in danger. What if they do suspect?”

  She gave me a withering glance. “You forget I am one of the great actresses of our age, darling. I can convince anyone of anything. They will believe that you’ve taken your poor old grandfather out for a spin in the motor to cheer him up.”

  “If you are really sure, that would be brilliant,” I said, giving her a hug. She looked rather pleased with herself.

  “And Queenie and I can watch out for each other,” she said.

  We reached the point where they would go back into the house and we’d turn toward the garage. At that moment we heard tires scrunching on gravel and the postman came toward us on his little motorbike.

  “Letter for you, my lady,” he said. Then he tipped his cap and was off again.

  I turned the envelope over and saw the crest. “It’s another letter from the Earl of Malmsbury,” I said and tore it open.

  Dear Lady Georgiana,

  After I sent the first letter to you my wife pointed out that you might have been inquiring about Charles Plunkett because you were thinking of employing him. She felt that I should let you know that we were sorry to learn that he had died last year.

  Yours faithfully,

  Malmsbury

  Chapter 32

  THURSDAY, JULY 4

  ALL OVER THE PLACE

  Things are getting more complicated by the minute. If only Granddad’s policeman can finally intervene . . .

  As we were ready to drive off in the Bentley, Mummy stood on the steps, waving. “Oh, and don’t forget to buy me that special soap I asked for, darling. That chemist in Haywards Heath should have it,” she called in that voice that had charmed millions. She really was quite remarkable at times.

  Granddad and I drove on. No one answered when we knocked on Mrs. Holbrook’s front door, but we found her in the back garden, taking sheets down from the clothesline. She looked flustered at seeing us and tried to smooth down her hair. “Sorry, my lady. You’ve caught me at a bad moment,” she said. “I was just taking in the washing. It looks like it could rain later.”

  “Here, let me help,” Granddad said and started to take the pegs off the next sheet on the line.

  “Oh, no need. That’s very kind of you, sir,” she said, even more flustered now.

  Between us we put the sheets into the laundry basket and carried it into the house.

  I introduced my grandfather and before I could let Mrs. Holbrook rush to make us a cup of tea I said, “I’m sorry to bother you again, but there is something at Eynsleigh that is not right and I need to know some facts before we go to the police.”

  “The police?” She looked worried. “Goodness me. What has been going on?”

  “I’m not sure,” I said. “Maybe something criminal.”

  “I never liked that new chap,” she said. “I always thought there was something funny about him. And the way he got rid of the old servants. Turned them out without a thank-you.”

  “I wanted to ask about Lady Anstruther,” I said. “Were you still working at Eynsleigh when Sir Hubert put his mother into the retirement home?”

  A grin crossed her face. “I was indeed, my lady. And she wasn’t too anxious to go, I can tell you. Made an awful fuss. But he said it was for her own good. He said he was going to be away for quite a while. She’d had a fall, you know. Broke her hip. He thought there wouldn’t be enough servants to take good care of her and she’d be much happier being properly looked after and having other people to chat to. So off she went.”

  “Do you happen to know the name of the place?”

  “It was called Downsview, I believe, and it was just outside Lewes.”

  “Mrs. Holbrook, you’re a lifesaver,” I said.

  She beamed at me. “Always glad to help, my lady. And very nice to meet you too, sir.”

  I noticed she gave my grandfather an encouraging smile.

  “I think you’ve got yourself a new female admirer,” I commented as we drove off again.

  “No more lady admirers, thank you,” he said.

  “I’m sorry, that was tactless of me. Obviously you’re still grieving about Mrs. Huggins,” I said. “It must have been an awful shock for you.”

  He took a deep breath. “Between you and me, ducks, I’m rather relieved. Oh, don’t get me wrong. I’m sorry poor old Hettie kicked the bucket, but I wasn’t at all sure I was doing the right thing getting married to her. It all started harmless enough with her coming to cook for me and before you know it she’s talking about us getting hitched and her moving in with me. And for a while I thought it might be nice to have company after so long. But when it finally struck me that I was going to be stuck with her and that she’d drive me round the bend, it was too late to back out. So now I’m feeling guilty that I’m actually relieved.”

  I glanced across at him and smiled. “Oh, Granddad. You made her happy; that’s the main thing. She was really looking forward to her wedding.”

  “Wasn’t she just!” He had to laugh. “Talk about going to town! Pulling out all the stops, she was. It’s a wonder she hadn’t invited the chorus line from the Palladium to come and dance. And Gigli to sing for us!”

  His laughter faded and we drove on for a while in silence.

  “You know, you’re more than welcome to come and live with Darcy and me at Eynsleigh,” I said.

  “Oh no, ducks. The last thing that newlyweds want is some old geezer getting in the way.”

  “But it’s a huge house. You wouldn’t be in the way. You could live as privately as you want.”

  “It’s kind of you, my love,” he said. “But I quite like my own little house and I’m used to my own routine. Although I won’t say no to coming to stay sometimes and enjoying your good country air.”

  We exchanged a smile.

  We headed south toward the coast. Ahead of us was the graceful sweep of the South Downs. We drove into the old town of Lewes with its impressive castle and quaint town center and stopped to ask for directions at the police station. They were most helpful and gave me directions to Downsview, about a mile out of town. I wondered if we should ask them to put through a telephone call to Scotland Yard, but Granddad seemed unwilling to introduce himself and have to explain our situation, so we went to a telephone box instead. After being passed along a series of ever-more important people, finally Detective Chief Inspector Garland came on the line and I handed the receiver over to Granddad. The result was that the DCI suggested that we shouldn’t come up to London but that he’d meet us at Haywards Heath station at about two o’clock.

  “Couldn’t be better,” Granddad said, smiling as we left the telephone box. “Always was a good bloke. Steady as a rock, that one.”

  “He clearly thought a lot of you too,” I said.

  Granddad nodded. “Well, I did teach him a thing or two, I suppose,” he said modestly.

  We got back in the motorcar and drove out along country lanes, between fields in which sheep or cows grazed, until we came to an impressive gateway with a discrete brass plaque on the brick post. Downsview. We continued up a long drive. There were manicured lawns on either side. Some residents were playing croquet. Others were strolling or sitting on benches, enjoying the fresh air. Ahead of us was a handsome Georgian house and we came to a halt outside a pillared entrance. It certainly didn’t look like an asylum! The front door was open and we entered a marble-tiled foyer. A lovely display of flowers stood on a low table. From one of the rooms came the sound of soft chatter and then laughter. A piano was being played somewhere. It all seemed very civilized.

  As we looked around, wondering where to go, a woman in a crisp white uniform came out, stopping in surprise when she saw us. “Can I help you?” she asked.

  “Can you tell us where we would find the matron?” I asked.

  She looked amused. “The matron? We’re not a hospital, my dear. We are a home for retired gentlefolk.”

  “Oh, I see. So you’re not . . .” I sought the right word. “You don’t have people who have to be—looked after?”

  “No, we’re really not equipped for complete invalids,” she said. “We do have some who need help walking up steps, but that’s about it.”

  “And those who have become . . . confused?”

  She grinned. “Some of them do live in their own little worlds, I admit. We have one lady who still thinks she’s in India. Keeps asking for her elephant. But on the whole I’d say most of them are as normal as you and me. We have a director of residents’ services who is in charge, but I think she had to drive someone to a doctor’s appointment. She shouldn’t be too long.”

  “Maybe you can help us, then,” I said. “I understand that Lady Anstruther was a resident here.”

  “She most certainly was.” Her face betrayed her feelings on the matter.

  “I gather she wasn’t the easiest person,” I went on.

  “You can say that again, my dear. Oh my goodness. I don’t think there was a person here she didn’t pick a fight with. Nothing was right for her ever. Didn’t like the food. Didn’t like the activities. And those cats of hers . . .”

  “Cats?”

  “Oh yes. We let residents bring their pets. She came with these two enormous white Persian cats. Rajah and Rani. They were the bane of everyone. I don’t think there’s a member of staff here who doesn’t bear the scars around the ankles of being attacked by one of the monsters when we went into Lady Anstruther’s room. I can’t tell you how glad we were when they left with her.” She stopped abruptly as she realized she had no idea who we were. “Oh, that was tactless of me, wasn’t it? You’re not a relative, are you?”