A Death in Chelsea

by Lynn Brittney

  “Could we do the bladder first and see if there is any urine left in it? If there is, I may be able to distil it down and get a drug residue.”

  “The bladder it is.” Caroline slowly made her first incision on the body of Adeline Treborne, while the other two women were poised to play their part.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The Comings and Goings of the Night Before

  “Rigsby, take the boot boy to one side and have a word with him, will you?” asked Beech confidentially. “Only he hasn’t spoken a word since we’ve been here, and I think he is overwhelmed by too many people. He seems a bit shy.”

  Billy nodded. “Will do, sir.” Then he moved back to the table and said, “David? How about you and me have a little chat about last night and this morning. Maybe, go to your room for a quiet word?” Billy smiled at the boy by way of encouragement.

  A look of sheer terror came over the boy’s face, which alarmed Billy. “Hold up, lad! Nothing to be frightened of!”

  David looked at Mrs Bailey and she said, “It’s all right, Davey, I’ll be there. Let’s you and me go with the nice policeman.” She got up and took his hand and led him out of the kitchen. Billy raised his eyebrows in puzzlement at Tollman and Beech and then followed.

  They went into a spartan bedroom, with pictures of trains on the wall.

  “Oh, you like trains, do you, David? Me too.” Billy tried to put the boy at his ease.

  Mrs Bailey sat down on the bed and pulled David down beside her, patting his hand.

  “Davey has a speech impediment, Constable,” she explained. “He don’t talk much, cos people can’t understand him. Except I do, cos I had a sister with the same problem, so he talks to me.”

  Billy was sympathetic. “So, what causes this speech impediment then?”

  “Tongue tie,” was the reply. “The bit under his tongue is very short, so he can’t move his tongue about to make sounds like you and me do.”

  Billy found himself unconsciously moving his own tongue around in his mouth, trying to imagine what it would be like not to be able to do so.

  “Isn’t there anything that can be done about it?” he asked.

  Mrs Bailey smiled. “No, lad. Least I’ve not heard of any cure.” She patted David’s hand. “Sometimes we just have to put up with what God hands out, don’t we, Davey? Anyway, the boy’s all right. He’s got a job, a roof over his head and food in his belly, and I make sure no one treats him badly. Can’t ask for more, can you, Constable?”

  “S’pose not.” Billy agreed. “Right, so let’s get started, shall we?” Billy got out his notebook and checked over his notes. “So, Mrs Bailey, you told us about David going to bed late because he had to make two trips to collect all the boots and shoes from outside the tenants’ doors.”

  “That’s right.”

  Billy turned to the boy. “David, when you were around and about yesterday, did you see anyone going in or coming out of Miss Treborne’s apartment?”

  David nodded and began to speak. His speech was not as bad as Billy had expected. When explaining later to Tollman, he would say, “It was like someone with a really bad lisp because they’ve got cotton wool wrapped round their tongue and made worse because he doesn’t really want to open his mouth and he mutters.”

  Between David’s explanation and Mrs Bailey’s translation, Billy was able to gather that, on his first trip to collect boots and shoes, at about ten, he had seen a man, in military uniform, leave Adeline Treborne’s apartment in a temper, judging by the way he banged the door behind him. He said he thought he heard her laughing through the briefly open door. Then, when David did his second sweep of the floor, at about ten thirty, to pick up the extra shoes that the man in apartment nine had left out, as he came to the top of the back stairs, he saw Major Sutcliffe going down the tenants’ staircase.

  Billy remembered that Mrs Bailey had been called out to a tenant at about eleven and asked her if she had seen anything or anyone.

  “No, nothing at all, I’m afraid.”

  “Right, so then we come to this morning, David,” said Billy. “Tell me what happened this morning.”

  David explained, again with the help of Mrs Bailey, that he had done his first trip with the cleaned and polished shoes and boots at about six fifteen. Then he had to come on a second trip to the second floor with the six pairs of cleaned footwear for Mr Ledbetter in apartment nine. As he was laying out the pairs of shoes outside the door, Lily arrived, and they smiled at each other.

  “Davey’s sweet on Lily,” said Mrs Bailey mischievously, which made the boy go red and Billy grin.

  Then the boy said that just as he was leaving, Lily gave this terrible scream and came rushing out of the apartment, sobbing. David went over to help her and realised something was wrong in the apartment. He went to go inside but Lily slammed the door and wouldn’t let him go in.

  Mr Ledbetter came out of his apartment in his dressing gown to see what all the fuss was about, and Lily asked him to call the porter. “She was yelling and screaming, ‘Miss Adeline’s dead! Miss Adeline’s dead!’,” explained Mrs Bailey, translating for David. “So, he called Mr Jenkins, who rushed upstairs,” she continued. “He apparently went into the apartment, not to view the body, which he said he didn’t want to do, but to call my husband up… and you know the rest.”

  That was as much as the boy knew, so Billy closed his notebook and patted David on the shoulder. “Thank you, lad,” he said simply, and the boy nodded.

  ***

  Caroline and Mabel’s work was done. Samples had been collected of bodily fluids – fortunately there had been some urine left in the bladder – and Caroline had removed the liver, one kidney and part of the pancreas. Sissy had watched it all with fascination and diligently written labels for the jars and vessels containing the samples.

  Caroline had been very careful to make minimal incisions and she was now sewing up the corpse with her very best and neatest stitches.

  “Don’t worry, Doctor,” said Sissy, after Caroline had explained that the duchess did not want any visible marks of an autopsy on her daughter’s body. “Once I’ve washed and dressed her, done her hair and put a bit of rouge on her cheeks and lips, she’ll look like Sleeping Beauty who’s just dropped off this minute.” Even Mabel managed to laugh at that remark.

  “Will it be all right if I rustle up a bowl of hot water and a cloth to wash her?” she asked. “Only I don’t want to disturb any evidence.”

  “The kitchen looked virtually untouched,” observed Mabel. “I’ll come with you, Sissy, and make a note of anything that we disturb.”

  Caroline was finished, and she surveyed her handiwork before removing her blood-caked gloves and apron. When Sissy and Mabel reappeared, she carefully washed her hands in the bowl and dried them, before putting her outdoor gloves back on.

  “You carry on, Sissy. Mabel and I will look through the drawers and cupboards for suitable clothes to dress her in.” Caroline and Mabel began to carefully sift through the contents of the bedroom furniture but to no avail. “All this stuff is much too glamorous for a burial,” Caroline observed, holding sequinned dresses in either hand.

  “Have you noticed that a lot of her clothes appear to have never been worn?” observed Mabel. “Such extravagance,” she added disapprovingly.

  “Let’s look in the other bedroom,” suggested Caroline. “Peter said that there were cabin trunks of clothes in there.”

  The two women sifted through all the neatly folded and stored clothes and eventually found a plain, high-necked blouse, a long black hobble skirt and some black stockings.

  “Shoes?” asked Mabel, opening a nearby cupboard and displaying an extraordinary number of pairs of shoes.

  “Again, none of these appear to have been worn,” commented Caroline, displaying the smooth soles of the shoes to Mabel. She selected a pair of plain black pumps
.

  “Perhaps she was just obsessed with shopping? You do hear of such women,” said Mabel, making it very clear by her tone of voice that she found such behaviour objectionable.

  “Mm. But all of these items of clothing are from exclusive fashion houses and the shoes are handmade. It takes an awful lot of money to be able to do that.” Caroline was intrigued.

  “Huh. Money from the family coffers probably,” replied Mabel dismissively.

  When they returned to the main bedroom, Sissy was towelling off the body and had removed the soiled sheet from the bed. “Do you want to keep that sheet, Doctor?” she asked.

  Mabel said she would take it, just in case there was a need to try to extract something from it, and she duly folded it and wrapped it in waxed paper, while Sissy and Caroline struggled to dress the body.

  “It’s no good, Doctor,” panted Sissy, after her third attempt to get the blouse on the corpse. “Rigor’s too far advanced now. We’ll just have to wrap her in a clean sheet and put the clothes and shoes next to her. The undertakers will make her look presentable.”

  It was agreed that that was the best they could do, and Sissy would telephone an undertaker to come over straight away. “I’ll ring Netherfield’s. They know me there and they are used to dealing with upper-class clients. They’ll be discreet, when I tell them what’s happened. I’ll wait here until they turn up and explain everything. Get Mr Beech to telephone the Duchess and tell her what’s happening. Tell her that Netherfield’s will be in touch when the body is ready to be seen in the Chapel of Rest.”

  “Sissy, I don’t know what we would have done without you,” said Caroline with feeling and, to Sissy’s great surprise, she gave her a big hug. Mabel echoed the sentiment but shook Sissy’s hand instead.

  “Any time, ladies,” replied Sissy, a bit flustered and pink. “I’m always ready to help out. You just get Billy to fetch me. In fact, could you get Billy to come up and wait with me? Then he can take me home afterwards.”

  “We will, we will.” And gathering up all their equipment – camera, samples, packages and baskets, Caroline and Mabel left.

  When Billy came up to the apartment, he found his aunt sitting in an armchair in the living room, smiling contentedly.

  “Went all right then, I hear?” he said, giving her a peck on the cheek. “Doctor Caroline couldn’t stop singing your praises downstairs.”

  “Billy,” said Sissy, stroking Billy’s cheek, “I haven’t felt so useful since July 1890.”

  “1890? What happened then?”

  Her eyes grew a little moist and she said, “You daft ’aporth! That was when I delivered you, on the kitchen floor, when your mum unexpectedly went into labour.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  What Do We Know About Adeline?

  Over dinner that evening, Beech, without going into any of the details of the case, asked Lady Maud if she knew the Duchess of Penhere.

  Maud frowned. “Not really. I know of her, of course. An old Catholic family, which meant that our paths never crossed in Church society because we moved in different circles. But I did serve on a committee, briefly, with her. The Royal Homes for Officers’ Widows and Daughters. I joined the committee in September 1912 but the Duchess resigned six months later. I presume it was because of the activities of her daughter. The poor woman could barely hold her head up in public once those scurrilous columns started being printed.”

  Caroline interjected, “Maud… are they moneyed… the Trebornes?”

  “Not at all! In fact, absolutely the opposite. I heard that the late Duke lost quite a lot of money in India – bad investments or something. He had to sell his two tea plantations and the Treborne country estate in Berkshire. The dreadful Adeline had to be brought back from spending her way around Europe, so I heard, and the son… the present Duke… had to give up most of his horses and stabling, could no longer ride to hounds or play polo.”

  “Polo again!” muttered Tollman.

  “I beg your pardon, Mr Tollman?” Lady Maud asked.

  “Sorry, Your Ladyship. Just talking to myself. Only polo has cropped up quite a bit today. Sorry for the interruption.”

  “That’s quite all right.” Lady Maud looked bemused. “I think, anyway, I had finished. I really don’t know any more about the Trebornes than that. The Duchess keeps a very low profile – well, you would, wouldn’t you, if your daughter was the most hated person in London society?”

  Everyone around the table murmured their agreement.

  Lady Maud continued. “Anyway, I shall retire to my bedroom now, as I have a great many letters to write, and leave you good people to your deliberations. May I say that I am so pleased you have another case! Although I shall miss the regular games of cribbage with Mr Tollman, it is far more important that you are all usefully employed and enjoying your teamwork!”

  Lady Maud rose, and the three men rose, and she swept out.

  Beech smiled and said, “Well, now we have had Lady Maud’s blessing, shall we retire to the study and deliberate our findings?”

  Earlier in the day, Caroline had presented her initial evidence from the autopsy and everyone had agreed that Adeline Treborne had not committed suicide. Beech had duly informed Sir Edward Henry, who had given them permission to pursue the case further.

  “I think I should keep my distance, for the moment,” Sir Edward had said. “So, I’m afraid that will mean that you, Beech, will have to tell the Duchess the news about any developments. I just feel that it would be… politic… for me to keep in the background while the investigation is under way.”

  Beech had said that he understood. “Of course, Miss Summersby is, at the moment, conducting her tests and printing her photographs, so we will have a more detailed picture in a couple of days,” he had added.

  Sir Edward’s eyes had lit up. “Yes! I’m very interested in this sort of work. This lady pharmacist seems to have embraced the entire concept of scientific police work. I should like to have a discussion with her, after this case is concluded. Well done for adding her to your team, Beech.”

  Finally, Beech had said, “A fingerprint officer will go to the apartment this afternoon, sir, and once the fingerprints have been processed, they will check them against any known criminals. But in this case, I’m not hopeful that we are dealing with any suspects with fingerprints on file. After all, we only have the prints of known criminals here at the Yard.”

  Sir Edward had nodded. “In the fullness of time, that will all be remedied,” he had said, and the interview had concluded.

  That evening, as the team reviewed the evidence they had gathered in the morning, they all agreed that Adeline Treborne was a complete mystery.

  “If, as Lady Maud suggests,” Beech ventured, “the family was short of money, I suppose that might account for her taking the job at the Herald. It’s a terribly drastic thing to do, though. To cut yourself off from polite society like that.”

  “She had a huge amount of exclusive and expensive clothing and accessories,” commented Caroline. “I would guess that any fee from the newspaper would not be enough to pay for more than a handful of the dresses I saw hanging in her wardrobes.”

  Victoria agreed. “Lily, the live-out maid, said that Adeline was always going shopping. She said Adeline would say to her ‘I’m going out’ and then she would return with bags of shopping.”

  “Perhaps because she was well-known,” Tollman suggested, “fashion houses gave her clothes?”

  Victoria and Caroline looked doubtful.

  “They only do that when a famous personality – like an actress – is actually liked and admired,” said Caroline. “No one would want a hated and despised gossip columnist wearing their clothes.” She seemed amused at the thought.

  Victoria spoke again. “The one thing Lily said that really bothered me was that Adeline Treborne never went anywhere – except shoppin
g. In other words, I would have expected her to be out constantly, mingling with high society, in order to gossip about them. But according to Lily, who was there every day, Adeline never went anywhere and received almost no visitors that she knew of, apart from her brother. I mean, how does anyone tell tales about people when they don’t actually mix with them?”

  Billy suddenly spoke. “But why, Mrs E, would you invite someone to a party when you knew they were going to gossip about it in the newspaper afterwards? It seems to me that no one would want her at their functions, would they?”

  “Very true,” observed Beech. “So where did she get her information from?”

  “Servants?” suggested Tollman. “They’re always the best source of gossip, in my experience.”

  “Yes, but how and when would she get information out of servants?” asked Victoria. “She couldn’t just waltz into the servants’ quarters of all the aristocratic households in London! Any self-respecting butler would show her the door!”

  “I suppose she could have met them somewhere and paid them for their information?” ventured Billy.

  “No. I don’t think so, lad,” said Tollman, his face set in a frown of puzzlement. “It can take years to set up a network of informants… believe me, I know. Adeline Treborne was not old enough or in the right position in society to do that. Someone must have been helping her.”

  “Well…” Beech was tired, and his leg was aching; he wanted to make plans for tomorrow so that he could get home to his bed. “We have several things that must be done tomorrow. Victoria, you and I must see the Duchess and her son… Tollman and Billy, you need to interview the other tenants to see if they saw or heard anything.”

  “Yes sir,” Tollman agreed. “I’m particularly interested in interviewing this Major chap.”

  “Oh yes!” Beech smiled. “The one that is supposed to be a fanatical polo player, except the housekeeper reckons he doesn’t know one end of a horse from the other and he isn’t really a major! I shall look forward to developments on that front. Caroline? What about you?”