Rose Campion and the Christmas Mystery

by Lyn Gardner

  The girls headed to the staircase. They were on the third floor of the house, in the bedroom next door to the one in which Freddie was sleeping. As they reached the final flight that led to the second floor, they caught a glimpse of a cotton nightdress, as somebody turned the corner at the other end of the corridor, as quietly as a ghost. The door to Grace’s room stood wide open. It was strange – Rose had noticed when they had trouped up to bed that Grace had already retired for the night, and that her door was fast shut. Through the door, Grace could now just be glimpsed fast asleep in the bed, a single candle still burning by her side, as if she had fallen asleep before she could snuff it out. The door must have blown open, thought Rose, as she stepped forward to pull it back closed. As she did so, she saw movement in the room, beyond the bed. She gestured to Effie to join her and her eyes grew wide. Aurora, dressed only in her white nightdress, was standing by the dressing table in front of the looking glass. Her back was to the girls. But her image was reflected in the looking glass, and Rose could see that Rory was clasping the black velvet box containing the Easingford Emeralds in her hands. There was something about her reflected face and empty eyes that made Rose shiver.

  “Aurora,” she hissed, but Rory didn’t hear. She was turning the case over and over in her hands, shaking it and muttering anxiously under her breath. Rose could only make out broken words. “Emeralds … stairs … emeralds … window … drop … do as instructed … no good … gone…”

  “Rory!” said Effie louder.

  Grace stirred and turned in her bed, and at that moment came a pitiful cry from above them. Freddie! Rose and Effie turned and ran up the stairs, and as they did, they heard another bedroom door open further along the corridor. Glancing back, Rose saw Sir Godfrey’s door open. It stayed ajar, as if someone was behind it, listening. But she didn’t hang around because Freddie cried out again.

  It was at least twenty minutes before they had soothed Freddie, who had clearly had a bad nightmare. Eventually he sank back into a deep sleep, and the girls returned to their room. Aurora was lying in the bed, fast asleep. Rose frowned when she saw her.

  “What do you think Rory was doing in Grace’s room?” whispered Effie, seeing her sleeping like a baby.

  “I don’t know,” said Rose. “She seemed anxious. Not like herself at all.”

  “Well, Edward did say last night how pleased he would be when the emeralds were safely back in the bank. Maybe the thought disturbed Rory’s dreams, and she went to check they were still there.”

  “Perhaps that’s the explanation. But it’s very odd,” said Rose, going to the curtain and peering out. “We can ask her in the morning what on earth she thought she was doing. I wondered whether she might be sleepwalking. She looked so strange. Somebody else was up – a woman. I glimpsed her nightdress. And Sir Godfrey’s door was open too.”

  She looked across the square. Two cloaked figures were hurrying across the road from the direction of the house. She couldn’t see their faces, but she got a sense from their body language that they were arguing, and arguing furiously. There was something familiar about them. She turned back to the bed. Effie was already asleep. She was dead tired too. Rose looked at her two friends, both sleeping the sleep of the innocent, and she smiled. Then she clambered into bed and was asleep herself in seconds.

  Rose opened her eyes and blinked. There was shouting on the floor below. She could hear Sir Godfrey’s irate voice. Somebody was weeping loudly. She shook Rory and Effie awake, and they ran downstairs. Rose wondered whether somehow Sir Godfrey’s hypocrisy and lies had come to light, without her and her friends revealing what they had learned about him two nights ago when they had gone to St Paul’s Cathedral.

  But it soon became clear that was not the reason for the uproar. Everyone was still in their nightclothes and dressing gowns. The countess was wrapped in a paisley shawl, wearing large slippers, a tiara perched on her head. Rose wondered whether she slept in it. Edward was running his hands through his hair, his face concerned.

  “Are you quite certain that you left the necklace in its box on your dressing table, Grace?” he asked. “You couldn’t have hidden it elsewhere and forgotten where you put it?”

  “No, no, no,” keened Grace, rocking back and forth. “I am so sorry, Edward. You entrusted me with a family heirloom, and it was just a few hours in my care and it’s lost.”

  “Lost!” shouted Sir Godfrey’s sister. “How can you mislay a valuable necklace in the middle of the night? No, it’s not lost. A burglar got into the premises during the night and has stolen it.”

  “Grace, you mustn’t blame yourself,” said Edward. “It’s not your fault. You didn’t help yourself to your own emeralds.”

  “Yes, but somebody did,” boomed the countess. “Thank goodness Inspector Cliff is on his way. He will discover the villain who committed this terrible crime.”

  Rose had to suppress a smile – given their past experiences with Inspector Cliff she didn’t have the countess’s faith in the Inspector’s ability to solve crimes. She glanced uncomfortably at Effie, who she could see was anxious. Should they say that they had seen Aurora in Grace’s bedroom holding the box containing the necklace? But Rory would never take the emeralds – not in a million years – and it felt disloyal to mention it, particularly as Rory had gone to sit by Grace, and was getting her to explain how she had discovered the necklace was missing.

  Rose was quite relieved when the door opened and Inspector Cliff was shown in.

  He nodded to everyone and got straight down to business.

  “I understand there is no sign of a break-in?”

  “That’s correct,” said Edward.

  “An inside job! Just like at Lady Plockton’s and the Fitzcillian residence,” said the countess. “You can’t trust servants these days,” she sniffed. She turned to the Inspector. “You should search all their rooms immediately.”

  Edward bristled. “I have complete faith in everyone who works at Silver Square. Everyone who was here last night is still here this morning. I would trust them all with my silverware, and my life.”

  The countess snorted. “Then more fool you, Edward Easingford. Servants are always light-fingered when they get the chance. Dishonesty is bred into them. It runs through their bones.”

  “I don’t believe that,” said Edward, quietly but firmly.

  The countess glowered.

  “So,” said one of Sir Godfrey’s sisters, directing her gaze at Edward, “if you believe that the servants are quite innocent of the theft, are you suggesting that one of us took the necklace? Because if you are, I will not stay in this house a moment longer.”

  Edward sighed. “I am simply saying that I trust all of my employees.”

  The woman nodded at her husband. “Cyril, we are leaving…”

  “Actually, madam,” interjected the Inspector, “you will all have to stay a while yet as I conduct my initial inquiries. But I will be as quick as I can, and you will be able to leave very shortly, I’m certain. Please sit down.”

  Everyone, some with more reluctance than others, found a chair.

  “Good,” said the Inspector. “Now, explain to me what happened last night.”

  Edward spoke, telling of the performance, the dinner, the presentation of the necklace to Grace, how they had said goodnight to those guests who were not staying, and how everyone then retired to bed. Everyone nodded, corroborating what Edward said.

  “Did everyone know where the emeralds would be overnight?” asked the Inspector.

  Thomas spoke. “Yes, because I suggested to Edward that perhaps it would be safer if he kept the necklace in his room, rather than leaving it with Grace, and we were all present when he asked her if she would like him to take responsibility for it. But she said she was sure it would be perfectly safe in her room.”

  “Mr Campion, did you have any reason to be concerned for the safety of the necklace?”

  “No,” said Thomas. “But like everyone else, I did know that
it was valuable.”

  The Inspector turned to Grace. “Where did you put the emeralds?”

  “On my dressing table. I didn’t take them out of the box.”

  “Did you leave the room at all after placing them there?”

  Grace shook her head. “I went straight to bed. I was exhausted. I could barely keep my eyes open long enough to get into bed.”

  The Inspector looked around the room. “I want you all to answer the next question individually. Did any of you leave your bedrooms at all during the night?”

  The Inspector asked each of the women in turn: Grace, Perdita, Sir Godfrey’s sisters and the countess. They all denied having left their beds. Rose frowned. Somebody was lying. Unless she had seen a ghost, one of them had been out of bed during the night – she had seen a nightgown. Why would they lie?

  The Inspector turned to the men. Again, they all denied having left their bedrooms. Cliff looked at Aurora.

  “Did you leave the bedroom you were sharing with your friends?”

  “No,” said Rory serenely. “I was in the bed all night.”

  Rose and Effie looked at each other aghast, and tried to hide their discomfort, though not very successfully. The Inspector swung around and gazed hard at Rose.

  “And you, Miss Campion – did you get up and leave your room in the night?”

  “Yes, Effie and I got up to go in search of a glass of water,” said Rose uncertainly.

  “Did you find one?”

  Rose shook her head. “No, we were going downstairs when we heard Freddie cry out, and we rushed back up to his bedside.”

  Effie nodded in agreement.

  “And while you were out of bed, did you notice anything unusual?”

  Rose flung Effie a desperate glance and then looked beseechingly at Aurora, who was looking at her with a sweetly puzzled expression. Rose couldn’t bear to meet her eyes.

  “Yes,” she whispered. “I did. I saw… I saw…” Her voice had become inaudible. Everyone was staring at her.

  “What did you see?” asked the Inspector gently.

  “I saw Rory in Grace’s room. She was holding the box containing the emeralds. She was shaking it and then she opened it and peered inside, and she seemed distressed.”

  Aurora gave a wounded cry and her eyes were incredulous. “But that’s not true, Rose! I never left my bed. You’re my friend! Why would you lie like that?”

  “She’s not lying,” said Effie, who had begun to cry. “I saw you too, Ror.”

  “She did,” said Rose, wringing her hands. “But there must be an explanation…” She tailed off lamely.

  Aurora looked wildly around the room, and then, with her chin defiant but her eyes full of hurt and tears, she said, “Does anyone else want to accuse me of stealing the emeralds?”

  Sir Godfrey cleared his throat. Rose realised he had been uncharacteristically quiet up until now.

  “I saw Miss Easingford too, with the emeralds in her hand.”

  The Inspector looked at him like an inquisitive cat. “I thought you said you didn’t leave your room?”

  “I didn’t. But I did peep outside my door, and I saw Miss Easingford walking down the stairs. She was holding the emeralds.”

  “What time was this?”

  “Just after three a.m. I glanced at my pocketwatch.”

  Aurora shook her head and looked at him, her eyes full of contempt.

  “Maybe you’d like to explain, Sir Godfrey, what you were doing out of bed?” asked Rory. “Perhaps you had an assignation? Perhaps you had some urgent business at St Paul’s?”

  There was a tiny frozen silence, and a small earthquake seemed to take place on Sir Godfrey’s face, as shock and horror did battle with outrage.

  Rory continued. “Perhaps you’d like to explain about the earrings you sent to Ivy, and the single earring that you sent to Jenny, who plays Prince Charming, after the first night of the pantomime, inviting her to meet you at St Paul’s at midnight, where you would be waiting.”

  “This is preposterous! The girl is a liar as well as a thief,” thundered Sir Godfrey, though he had visibly flinched at the name Jenny and had turned quite pale.

  “She isn’t lying,” said Rose quietly. “Effie and I saw you at St Paul’s too. I’ve got the proof as well – the note and earring are both in my possession. Would you like to see them, Inspector? It might be crucial evidence in your ongoing investigation into the murder of Ivy Puddlewick.”

  The Inspector nodded.

  “Look here now, what are you insinuating?” demanded Sir Godfrey, and there was a mixture of bluster and fear in his voice. “The note you have might have been sent by anyone, and I certainly have never had any assignations at St Paul’s. I have never been so insulted in my life. I am a man of integrity. These music-hall guttersnipes are all lying, and trying to point a finger at me in order to draw attention away from the fact that Aurora Easingford is a common little thief who stole her own aunt’s wedding gift.”

  There were a number of “hear hears” from Sir Godfrey’s sisters and their husbands.

  “Sir Godfrey,” said Edward warningly, “that is my daughter you are calling a common little thief, and my closest friends you are calling music-hall guttersnipes, and you are doing it under my roof.”

  Grace stepped forward. “And Aurora is my niece, and Rose and Effie are both my friends, and I know them all to be as honest as the day is long. Which is more than I can say for you, Sir Godfrey. What kind of engaged man sends notes and earrings to another woman?”

  She loosened the engagement ring on her finger and held it out to him. “Our engagement is terminated.”

  He snatched it from her, and said, “I wouldn’t marry into this family if you paid me.”

  Rose had to suppress the urge to pipe up, “But that’s exactly what Edward did,” but she managed to hold back the remark, knowing that this would hurt Grace.

  Sir Godfrey turned to the Inspector. “Am I free to go, or do you plan to arrest me?”

  Inspector Cliff took his time before he answered. Rose thought he had the look of a man who was enjoying himself.

  “For the time being, yes, you can leave. But I will certainly have further questions for you about your relationship with Ivy Puddlewick, and the woman called Jenny.”

  He turned to Thomas. “If I understand correctly, this Jenny plays Prince Charming in the pantomime – is that right?” Thomas nodded. “And where might I find her?”

  There was another tiny silence, and then, with a big grin, Grace spoke up.

  “Here. I play Prince Charming under the assumed name of Jenny Roberts.”

  There were loud gasps from the countess and Sir Godfrey’s sisters.

  Sir Godfrey looked like a tree that had just had an axe taken to its trunk. But then he collected himself, brought his scowling face close to Grace, and hissed in the meanest of voices, “I always knew you were no lady. But I was prepared to overlook it and take you and your brat on, out of the goodness of my heart and misguided generosity. You and the rest of the Easingfords will regret trying to make a fool of me.”

  He stalked from the room, followed by the rest of his party, who bustled after him like flapping chickens, pecking at the words “scandalous”, “disgusting” and “outrageous” as they went. Rose heard one of the sisters asking Sir Godfrey where he was going.

  “To St Olave’s. I need some quiet, reflective time alone.”

  For a few minutes everyone sat in shell-shocked silence. The Inspector asked some further questions about the missing emeralds and then left to talk to his men, who were busy quizzing the servants and searching the square. He came back several moments later with a black velvet box, which he asked Edward and Grace to identify as the case that had contained the emeralds. They did.

  “One of my men found it tossed in the bushes in the square. Quite empty of course,” he said, before returning to his men.

  There was another long silence, then Grace said in a small voice, “I know t
here are more pressing matters, but I suppose we will have to make an announcement about the cancellation of the wedding.”

  “Leave it to me, Grace,” said Edward. “I will deal with it.”

  Rose wanted to fling her arms around Aurora, but her friend was sitting so stiffly, with her mouth in such a grim line, that she hardly dare look at her, let alone touch her.

  “Rory,” she said hesitantly. Aurora almost flinched at the sound. “Rory, I’m sorry. I don’t for a second think you stole the emeralds, but Effie and I can’t deny what we both saw, any more than you can deny that you saw Sir Godfrey outside St Paul’s Cathedral.”

  “I understand,” she said quietly. Her face crumbled. “But I’m so frightened. You say I was in Grace’s room and I had the box with the emeralds in my hands, but I have absolutely no recollection of it. It makes me think that I must be losing my mind.”

  Edward gathered her in his arms and hugged her hard.

  “Maybe you were sleepwalking,” said Perdita thoughtfully.

  “That must be it,” said Edward eagerly. “Rory, we’ll send for Dr Neagle. He will be able to advise us.”

  “But what if Inspector Cliff arrests me for stealing the necklace?” wailed Rory.

  “I don’t think the Inspector will be in any hurry to arrest you,” said Effie firmly. “Not after the mistake he made in arresting me for a murder I didn’t commit. He still looks guilty every time he sees me. He’s not going to make that mistake twice.”

  “Besides,” said Edward, “he can’t arrest you if no crime has been committed.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Grace.

  “Well, I will simply tell the Inspector that we were mistaken, and that the necklace was not stolen but misplaced, and that we would like to withdraw our complaint because there was no robbery. There would be nothing he could do.”

  For a moment Rory looked relieved, but then she frowned and said, “But that wouldn’t be true. The emeralds have been stolen. If you do what you suggest, while nobody will ever openly dispute it, for the rest of my life people who know what happened – and I’m certain Sir Godfrey and his sisters will deliver a highly edited and damning version of what occurred here this morning to all their friends – will look at me and wonder if I really did steal them. Maybe all of you will sometimes look at me sideways and think, ‘Maybe she did take them’. So thank you, Edward, but no thank you. I would prefer to wait to be proved innocent, however painful the process.”