Four Funerals and Maybe a Wedding Page 24

  “No, we’re not,” I said. “No, we just wanted to verify that Lady Anstruther had been a resident here and to find out when she left.”

  “She left in the New Year. She had complained about our Christmas and New Year merrymaking and said she wanted peace and quiet and was going home.”

  “And nobody tried to stop her?”

  “Of course not. This is not an institution. It’s more like a high-class residential hotel. Residents may come and go as they please. I believe our director did try to talk her out of it, knowing that her son was keen to have her here, but she wouldn’t listen.”

  “And how would you say her state of mind was at the time?” I asked. “Would she have been competent to make such a decision?”

  “Competent?” She shook her head. “She might have been difficult to deal with, but she knew exactly what she was doing. Sharp as a tack. Did the Times crossword every morning.” She glanced down at her wristwatch. “Now, if you will please excuse me, I have to see that the room is set up correctly for this afternoon’s piano recital. We have a resident who is a famous classical pianist. So if you’d like to go into the sitting room and wait for our director?”

  “No, thank you,” I said. “We have learned all we need to know and we have an appointment later in Haywards Heath.”

  Chapter 33

  THURSDAY, JULY 4

  HAYWARDS HEATH, SUSSEX

  Now we are getting somewhere! Now we know that they murdered Lady Anstruther and brought in someone to impersonate her. The only question is why they needed to do that. I hope we get some answers soon. This whole thing is just too suspenseful.

  We came out of the house and I paused to admire the green grass of the Downs rising in front of us. At last a house that actually merited its name!

  “Well, now we are getting somewhere,” I said to my grandfather as we drove away. “We know that Lady Anstruther was completely sane, if highly objectionable. Obviously this person impersonating her wanted me to think that she was not only mad but dangerous so that I kept well away from that part of the house. And those birds flying around the room—well, that was a giveaway that she’s a fraud, isn’t it? Nobody who adored two big cats would ever keep birds!” I turned to him triumphantly. “And I know where those cats are buried too. They must have killed the cats when they murdered Lady Anstruther.”

  “We’ll get ’em,” Granddad said. “I wouldn’t be surprised if we found stolen goods stashed in that part of the house.”

  We were feeling rather pleased with ourselves when we arrived at Haywards Heath railway station. We were a little early so we fortified ourselves with a sausage roll and a cup of tea at a café opposite. The sausage roll was surprisingly good, so we followed it up with an iced bun each.

  There was no mistaking Chief Inspector Garland. He was tall, sandy haired and broad shouldered, and he strode out with an air of authority. He spotted my grandfather immediately and came toward him, hand outstretched. “Sergeant Spinks, so good to see you again after all this time.”

  I was introduced and if the chief inspector was surprised that a lowly sergeant from the East End had a granddaughter who was a lady, he didn’t show it. Maybe he had done his homework before setting out!

  “I’m sorry to call you out here,” Granddad said, “but I think we’ve got a very serious matter on our hands and it may be beyond the local boys here.”

  “I assumed it would be a matter of importance or you would never have gone over heads,” Chief Inspector Garland said. “You always did have sound judgment.”

  Granddad gave a modest grin.

  “Is there somewhere we can sit?” the DCI asked.

  We suggested the café where we had eaten and soon we were sitting in a quiet corner, drinking more tea while we told the chief inspector our story.

  “So let me get this straight,” he said. “You know that the person who is acting as your butler is not who he claims to be and that the real person bearing that name is dead? And that someone is impersonating a lady who is also dead? And you suspect that whoever is behind this might have a hand in the disappearance of the city financier whose body was found at the foot of Beachy Head?”

  I nodded. “I know it sounds farfetched,” I said. “I’d find it hard to believe myself but I’ve seen the body in the coffin. I know where her cats are buried and my own life has been threatened twice now.”

  “Really?” He looked genuinely concerned.

  “When I first came to the house someone turned on the gas tap in my room. Luckily I sleep with all the windows open, having been brought up at Castle Rannoch. And then this morning my grandfather and I were locked in an underground vault, fortunately rescued by my maid and my mother.”

  “So what do you attribute this to?” he said. “Why go on a killing spree?”

  “I was told there has been a spate of burglaries in this part of the world recently,” I said. “And my mother commented that items were missing from all over the house we are staying in. She used to be married to Sir Hubert and lived in the house, so she remembered it well.”

  “Ah,” he said. “So you think that maybe a gang of burglars might have set up shop while the master was away and used it as a headquarters?”

  “It would be very convenient, wouldn’t it?” I said.

  He nodded. “A perfect situation, I’d say. Who would ever suspect a stately home as a place where burglars were operating?”

  I thought for a moment before I went on. “What I don’t understand is why one of them had to impersonate the old Lady Anstruther. I mean, I didn’t even know she had been living in the house. They could just have kept quiet about her instead of that ridiculous charade of pretending she was quite mad and having birds flying all over the place.”

  “Birds?” he asked.

  “Yes. I was taken into her room at night. She wore this shawl over her head, so that I couldn’t see her face properly, I presume. And this large parrot came and landed on my head, and another bird was flying around. They were quite alarming, actually.”

  A strange look had come over the DCI’s face. “It’s funny you should say that because it brings somebody to mind.” He turned to my grandfather. “I think this might have been after your time, Sergeant Spinks, but there was a highly successful burglary ring in London led by a chap they called the Birdman. Phil ‘Birdman’ Vogel.”

  “Oh yes. I remember reading about him.” Granddad nodded. “He was never on my patch, but the name is familiar.”

  “Did they call him Birdman because he kept birds?” I asked. As I spoke I remembered Queenie had overheard the gardeners mentioning someone called Phil.

  “Three reasons, actually,” the DCI replied. “They called him Birdman not just because his last name was Vogel, German for ‘bird,’ but because he kept birds as pets and he was such a successful cat burglar that people wondered if he could actually fly. He managed to scale walls and get in through windows on upper floors that might have seemed impossible. So the rumor had it that he flew.” He grinned at us. “We caught him eventually and put him away for ten years.” A thoughtful look came over his face. “That was quite a while ago now, so it’s possible he’s already been let out early for good behavior.”

  “Golly,” was all I could think of saying.

  “What about his former gang?” Granddad asked.

  “I think we nabbed most of them. He had a woman who worked with him. Skinny little thing. Actually I believe he used her to climb in through some of those windows. What was her name? Parsons . . . Joan Parsons. Yes. That’s right.”

  “Joanie!” I exclaimed. “We have a maid called Joanie who fits that description. And she told my maid that she thinks herself above working in service and won’t be a maid for long. And she was the one who must have turned on my gas tap that night.”

  “Fascinating,” Chief Inspector Garland said, nodding to me. “I wonder if you’ve got the whole gang there at the house. You’re quite lucky you weren’t all murdered in your beds.”

  “We have a Spanish cook who can’t cook,” I suggested.

  “Looney Lopez.” He waved a finger in delight. “Remember him, Albert? Yes, that might well be him.”

  “And an Irish footman. McShea,” I continued.

  He shook his head. “No, that doesn’t ring a bell. Maybe he’s legit.”

  “And a scared little mouse of a kitchen maid called Molly.”

  “She’s probably not one of them either,” he said.

  “We had two gardeners who didn’t seem to know much about gardening and were selling the produce,” I said.

  “Maybe local lads with no idea what’s going on,” the inspector said.

  “No, they knew very well,” I said. “It was one of them who locked us in the vault. At the very least they must have helped to bury Lady Anstruther’s cats and possibly Lady Anstruther herself.” I paused, considering. “And then there have to be two people impersonating Lady Anstruther and her nurse.”

  “I wouldn’t be surprised if it wasn’t Phil himself who was impersonating the old lady. I believe he had dressed up as a woman before when he robbed a swank home during a party.”

  “Maybe that was why she spoke in a whisper. So that I wouldn’t recognize a man’s voice,” I said, and then asked, “And the nurse?”

  “Not sure about that,” the inspector said. “There have been other gang members—hangers-on.”

  “And what about Plunkett? Or at least the man who calls himself Plunkett. Chubby fellow, about forty. Parts his hair down the middle. Bit of a Cockney accent he tries to hide.”

  DCI Garland frowned, thinking. “No, he wasn’t part of the gang that I remember.”

  “The initials on his case were EP,” I said.

  Garland shook his head. “No, doesn’t ring a bell. Maybe he’s a legitimate household servant who got himself roped into this.”

  “I have found out that the real Charles Plunkett is dead and this man was impersonating him if that’s any help.”

  DCI Garland looked at me, long and hard. “You have been an enormous help, young lady. I’m impressed.”

  I had the grace to blush.

  “So what happens next?” my grandfather asked.

  DCI Garland sucked in through his teeth. Then he said, “I have to square things away with the local boys. Can’t tread on toes, you know. Then I’ll assemble a team and we’ll stake out the place and pounce.”

  While he was talking I had remembered something important. “You might not have time to do much,” I said. “I intercepted a note that was meant for the butler. It said something about a boat on Thursday. At the time I thought perhaps it was a place for a lover’s tryst.”

  The DCI now looked alarmed. “Phil Vogel’s old gang used to ship stolen silver and antiques to the Continent and America. If he’s up to his old game, then he could have a boat lined up ready for the latest shipment. And it’s Thursday today.” He stood up. “I better get onto it right away. There may be no time for protocol. We must get them before they escape.”

  “What do you want us to do?” I asked.

  “Stay well away,” he said. “Find an excuse to go out this evening. Say you’re going to the pictures or out to a concert. I don’t want you to run the risk of being hurt.”

  “Do you think they’d try to kill us before they left?” I asked, trying not to sound too concerned.

  “I think they might want to take one of you as a bargaining chip, just in case,” the inspector said. “Anyway, that’s a risk we won’t take, will we? I’m pretty sure they won’t leave until it’s almost dark, and we’ll be waiting for them. You just make sure you are well clear, understand?”

  “Yes, absolutely,” I said.

  Chapter 34

  THURSDAY, JULY 4

  BACK AT EYNSLEIGH

  Things are finally coming to a head. I am so relieved that the police are going to catch these people. Imagine sharing the house with a gang of thieves! We are lucky that nothing worse happened to us!

  Neither Granddad nor I spoke much on the way home. I think we were both going over the full ramifications of what we had just learned. And both realizing that we had to go back into that house and act normally until we could make our escape. I thought about Mummy, still there, and Queenie stuck in the kitchen with a man who might be Looney Lopez. I put my foot down and the Bentley sped through the narrow lanes.

  “Steady on, old love,” Granddad said. “It won’t do anyone no good if we wind up in a ditch.”

  I slowed a little. The drive home seemed to take forever and my heart was beating very fast when we drove through the gateway and up the drive. Even as we pulled up Plunkett came down the steps to meet us.

  “Oh, there you are, my lady,” he said, opening the door for me. “We wondered where you had got to. Your mother was getting concerned. She said you had only gone into town to do some shopping.”

  “That was the original intention,” I said. “We bumped into someone who used to know my grandfather and went to have a bite of lunch with him.”

  As Plunkett helped me from the motorcar my mother appeared at the doorway. “There you are, you naughty girl. I was worried about you. I wondered if you could actually drive that powerful motorcar.”

  “I’m perfectly all right, Mummy,” I said. “Granddad bumped into an old colleague from London.”

  “Who has retired down here in the country and is now growing orchids,” Granddad said. “He invited us to have lunch with him, and let me tell you, there is nothing more boring than listening to a talk on growing orchids.” He laughed. I did too.

  “Did you remember my soap?” Mummy asked.

  “Of course. Number one priority,” I said, and reached into my purse. We had remembered to purchase a few items before we left Haywards Heath to prove we had been on a shopping trip. Mummy’s so-called French soap had come from Boots.

  Mummy smelled it. I expected it smelled disgusting but I had grabbed the first one. “Ashes of roses, my very favorite, you clever thing,” she said with a look of rapture on her face.

  “I will put the motorcar away for you, my lady,” Plunkett said, almost pushing past me to get into the driver’s seat.

  “That won’t be necessary, Plunkett,” I replied. “We saw that there is a comedy playing at the Gaumont in Haywards Heath and I thought it might cheer us all up to have a good laugh. So we’ll have a high tea and then go to the cinema tonight.”

  “Tonight, my lady?” A spasm crossed his face before he regained his composure, and it dawned on me that perhaps they were planning to use the Bentley as part of their escape.

  “Yes, Plunkett. I can’t see any reason why not tonight, can you?”

  “It’s just that Cook and your girl were already working on the meal. I don’t know if it will keep.”

  “Then we’ll eat late when we get home,” I said. “So please let Queenie know that we’d like tea in half an hour, and maybe something like a boiled egg to sustain us.”

  “Very good, my lady,” he said. He went to say something more, but then walked away. If it hadn’t been so alarming I would have grinned.

  “Did you buy anything fun and exciting you want to show me?” Mummy asked, pretending to peep into the bag I carried.

  “Mummy, it’s Haywards Heath, not Oxford Street,” I said, laughing. “I bought some new face cream, that’s all. But come up and see if you approve, if you like.”

  “Darling, I’ve always told you that English cosmetics will destroy your face,” she said loudly as we went up the stairs with Granddad in tow. “One has to buy them in Paris. Next time I’m there I’ll have some made up for you. . . .”

  We passed out of Plunkett’s hearing and made a beeline for my room, shutting the door behind us. Mummy’s eyes widened as we told her everything we had found out.

  “We could have all have been killed,” she said.

  “Quite possibly.”

  “That explains why Plunkett was so concerned where you had disappeared to. He quizzed me several times and actually asked when I thought the motorcar would be back.”

  “I wonder if stealing the Bentley was part of their plan,” I said.

  “Terrible people,” she said. “I bet they’ve stolen all the good stuff from Eynsleigh. I jolly well hope those policemen nab them before they can send it overseas. Hubert would be furious if he found out.” A look of alarm crossed her face. “You don’t think there will be a shoot-out, do you? Will we be safe?”

  “Mummy, it’s Sussex, not Chicago,” I said. “But just to be on the safe side the inspector wants us out of the way. That’s why we are going to the cinema this evening.”

  I managed to keep calm as we went down to tea. It looked most inviting, with dainty little watercress and cucumber sandwiches, boiled eggs with fingers of bread beside them and little iced cakes, but I didn’t feel that I’d be able to swallow a morsel. Mummy, ever the actress and sure of her lines, tucked in with relish. Granddad met my gaze across the table.

  “It’s a bit soon after that large lunch for Georgie and me,” he said. “I told her we shouldn’t have had that second helping.”

  We had almost finished eating when Queenie came in. “I was told you ain’t wanting your dinner tonight on account of going to the cinema,” she said. “But don’t worry. We’ll keep it hot until you get back. It’s a shepherd’s pie and I made it. That Fernando bloke is bloody useless. Hasn’t done a thing for days.” She paused, then said, “Are you going to finish them sandwiches?” She reached across the table to grab the plate. As she leaned closer to me she muttered, “There’s something funny going on, miss. I went to pick some chives for the sandwiches and I saw a strange bloke come out of the French windows on the other side of the house carrying a ruddy great painting.”