Murder and Mittens

Chapter 24

  Jen told Etta about Lily when she brought in the tea.

  ‘Which one is Lily?’ asked Etta.

  ‘Lily is the second housemaid, the one with fair hair.’

  ‘I don’t think I’ve seen her.’

  ‘You wouldn’t, as her and your paths don’t cross. Servants are meant to be invisible, you know.’

  So her mother was still irritated by her stupid words last night, Etta decided.

  ‘Is she definite that it was the night of the murder?’

  ‘No but it could have been.’

  ‘Do you think I should tell the inspector?’

  ‘No, not yet. Let me try and make certain that it was that night, if I can. And find out if Lily normally tells the truth or makes up stories.’

  Etta went to see Inspector Brighton after breakfast, which was a gloomy affair. Sir James and Lady Mowbray were clearly worried by now about their missing son. Even Dorothy looked disturbed. Miss Mittens accompanied her to give her moral support.

  Etta knocked on the door.

  ‘Come!’ barked Inspector Brighton.

  They entered the room.

  ‘Miss Mittens, Miss Ashcroft, what can I do for you?’ he asked quite genially. Perhaps the remains of a bacon sandwich and a drained cup of coffee had something to do with it.

  ‘Have you heard that Cecil Mowbray is missing?’ Miss Mitten asked him.

  He drew his brows together and frowned. He looked at Sergeant Wolf.

  ‘Has this been reported to us?’

  ‘No sir, the police constable on duty hasn’t mentioned anything.’

  ‘Shouldn’t Sir James be coming to see me about this?’ asked the inspector.

  ‘I’m sure he will be but I thought I should tell you about a conversation I had with Cecil the night before last.’

  ‘And what was this conversation about?’

  ‘He told me that he knew something about the murder, a secret that someone would pay well for him to keep to himself.’

  The inspector’s eyebrows shot up and Sergeant Wolf leaned forward.

  ‘I don’t suppose he gave you any idea what this secret might be or who the person was?’ the inspector asked.

  ‘I’m afraid not.’

  ‘How long has he been missing for?’ Sergeant Wolf asked.

  ‘Since yesterday breakfast time,’ said Miss Mittens.

  ‘I think I need to speak to Sir James,’ said the inspector. ‘Come on Wolf. Thank you ladies.’

  After speaking to Sir James, Inspector Brighton organised a search for Cecil Mowbray.

  At lunchtime, Mr. Cook came into the Servants’ Hall.

  ‘I’m asking for volunteers to help search for “Master Cecil”. The police are looking of course, but they’ve asked for some extra men.’

  ‘What about women?’ asked Jen.

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ snapped Mr. Cook.

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Yes, why not? Women did all sorts of jobs during the Great War. Why can’t they help with this?’ chimed in Mrs. Butler.

  ‘Because it wouldn’t be proper and that’s an end of it. And you, Mrs. Butler have lunch to cook.’

  ‘I’ll volunteer,’ John said and the other footmen.

  Jen suspected that it was more of a desire to get out of their normal household chores than a burning desire to find Cecil Mowbray. She did not bother to argue with Mr. Cook any more.

  She walked out of the kitchen, climbed the stairs, and went through the green door separating the servants’ part of the house and into the corridor of the main house. She was in search of Etta. She was standing with Miss Mittens in the hallway, watching the inspector give instructions to his men. Three of the younger gentlemen were also standing there.

  ‘Who are they?’ she asked Etta.

  ‘Dennis Mowbray, Stewart Grenadier and Algernon Wainwright,’ Etta rattled off. ‘They have volunteered to help look.’

  ‘I’m going to help search too,’ she said to them. ‘Are you coming?’

  ‘Excellent idea, I’m game,’ Miss Mittens said instantly.

  Etta hesitated than agreed.

  ‘Leave this to me,’ Miss Mittens said. ‘Head for the sergeant. They all went up to Sergeant Wolf.

  ‘Sergeant, we’d like to volunteer for the man search,’ Miss Mittens told him.

  ‘I don’t think,’ Sergeant Wolf began. Miss Mittens cut him off, ‘‘a man is missing, possibly injured and needs to be found as quickly as possible. We add three extra personnel to your search party, thus reducing time and effort.

  ‘But have you thought that you might find a dead body?’ Sergeant Wolf asked. ‘Very unpleasant for ladies to see.’

  Jen butted in. ‘In case, you’ve forgotten, my daughter and I are private investigators.’

  ‘And I drove an ambulance during the Great War,’ Miss Mittens said, stepping right up to the sergeant’s face. ‘I’ve seen plenty of dead bodies. Give us an area to search.’

  Sergeant Wolf gave in and allocated them an area in Bluebell Woods to search.

  ‘The inspector’ll have my guts for garters,’ he prophesied.

  ‘Nonsense. He’ll be impressed with your efficiency,’ Miss Mittens said.

  Sergeant Wolf did not look convinced.

  ‘Come ladies,’ Miss Mittens ordered.

  As they walked into the woods, Jen noticed that Solomon Taylor was amongst the searchers and Callum Fraser was not.

  But it wasn’t the police or the manservants who found Cecil’s body in the Bluebell Woods, not far from Wilkington Hall but some ramblers out on a day trip. The women heard their shouts and hurried over.

  He was sprawled amongst the bluebells, his white face staring at the sky contrasting with his blood red eyes, the stalks of the flowers bent and crushed under him. He had been strangled. There were bruises around his throat. Miss Mittens surveyed him quite calmly before turning to the agitated ramblers, several middle-aged men and women in hiking boots and shorts.

  ‘The police are near by and will take charge,’ she advised them. ‘Try to remain calm and stay here until they arrive.’ Then she simply bellowed, ‘Inspector Brighton! Sergeant Wolf!’ before pulling out a whistle from a side pocket of her tweed skirt and blowing it. ‘A useful relic from my teaching days,’ she explained to Jen and Etta.

  Jen looked anxiously at Etta, wondering how she would cope. This was Etta’s first body. Etta gulped several times and then turned and walked a short distance away, not looking at the body. But she did not throw up or start crying. Jen felt a warm glow of pride in her daughter.

  Inspector Brighton came storming through the clearing, several policemen following behind. ‘Who blew that whistle?’ he demanded.

  ‘I did, best way to get you to hear,’ Miss Mittens said calmly. ‘They’ve found the body.’ She indicated the ramblers with her hand.

  Inspector Brighton turned to his men. ‘Right, secure the murder scene and keep all the spectators well back but don’t let any of them go. We’re going to need statements.’

  ‘I’m glad we didn’t find the body,’ Jen muttered to Etta. ‘If we had, Inspector Brighton would have probably arrested us again.’

  Etta turned shocked eyes on her. ‘Mum, how can you think about that at a time like this?’

  Quite easily, thought Jen. It was not her first body although it was her first murder victim. The trouble was, she was finding it hard to take it seriously, Cecil looked like a prop in a film. She had had to resist the urge to touch him to see if he was real.

  ‘You’re probably right,’ Miss Mittens agreed. ‘The inspector does seem to have a bit of a bias against you two. Probably best we keep a low profile now.’

  ‘Did you really drive an ambulance during the war. Weren’t you too old?’ Jen asked.

  ‘Miss Mittens chuckled. ‘I lied about my age. If boys were doing it, why couldn’t I?’

  ‘What was it like?’ Etta asked.

  ‘I had some of the worst, and best experiences of my life.
But nothing that happened compared to what our men went through on a daily basis.’