‘If she had injured someone?’ Simmons asked and watched Jago lower his eyes. ‘I have to say, that was my first thought too.’
Jago’s head shot up, relief showing clearly on his young face that someone else thought as he did.
Simmons continued, ‘If, and I say if, the mistress was involved in some sort of accident, did she report it to the police herself? My guess would be no.’ Seeing the puzzled faces around the kitchen table, the butler continued. ‘The police have not been to the house to speak with the mistress. Now, if she had knocked down an animal, it would have been more of an annoyance to her than a shock.’
Murmurs of agreement sounded as Jago spoke up once more. ‘The missis was going to Birmingham but she wasn’t out long enough to have got there, do what she went for and come back again. Then when she came in, she had a face like a slapped arse!’
Alice giggled at his expression as Jago apologised for his language.
‘Hmmm,’ Simmons scratched his cheek, ‘then that lends support to our thinking.’
‘So you think her…’ Alice saw Simmons’ frown and corrected herself. ‘So you think she knocked a person over with the trap?’
Simmons smiled at the maid; praise for her self-correction. ‘The question is, I think, did she injure them or… were they killed?’ The women gasped at the thought. ‘Either way,’ Simmons continued, ‘we need to make no mention of this to a soul.’ Seeing puzzled looks yet again, the butler sighed. ‘Let me lay this out for you. Firstly, an emerald goes missing – and I’m convinced the master did not miscount them at the bank. Now we come to the trap covered in blood. If the mistress struck a person and left them either injured or dead, and didn’t report it… that gives us leverage over her.’
‘What?’ Alice asked, feeling even more confused.
Mrs Jukes explained, ‘It means we have one over on her upstairs.’
‘Oh yeah,’ Alice said as the penny dropped.
‘This could prove useful in the future,’ Simmons added with a wry grin.
*
It was later that night when Simmons noted down all he’d been told by Jago about the trap. This information needed to be passed to his superiors at some point, but first he needed to find out exactly what had occurred.
He sighed as he replaced his notebook in the pocket of his uniform hanging in the wardrobe. Being a policeman under cover could be frustrating at times.
Sitting on his bed, he recalled why he’d been asked to take on this role.
The police in Birmingham had been contacted by a pawnbroker regarding expensive jewellery he had bought from a young man. The broker had considered this suspicious, firstly because it was a woman’s earrings and necklace, and secondly the young man came in again some days later with more. The police requested the broker continue to deal with the young man whilst they conducted their enquiries.
Snippets of information had come in from informants that this young man was believed to be stealing this jewellery from older women. What he was doing in their homes in the first place remained a mystery.
The police were keeping tabs on the man’s activities and whereabouts. Unable to arrest him without absolute proof, they continued to watch him closely. It appeared he lived in Wolverhampton. It was considered this man would possibly try to rob the Buchanans, who were the wealthiest family in Wednesbury.
Then there had been the incident with the missing emerald. Simmons thought it unlikely that the young man had been responsible, which led him to suspect that Mrs Buchanan wasn’t as innocent as she made out.
The two missing daughters raised more questions and was a cause for concern and now he was embroiled in a mystery of a trap covered in blood and a mistress who was keeping quiet about it.
With a sigh, he climbed wearily into bed. He needed sleep.
*
The springtime came in all its glory and Jago Morton met up with the other stable boys on their afternoon off. Being a quiet boy, Jago listened to the gossip as they sat in the bar room of the Elephant & Castle on the High Bullen. Talk turned to their employers and Jago was envied as he said he had a room in the main house, the others having their quarters in the stables with the horses. The boys complained about how mean their employers were when one asked if they’d heard about the accident on the heath some weeks before. Jago’s ears pricked up as he listened to the tale of a woman knocked over and killed during the high winds. There was no mention of who the woman was, only that she had lived in Birmingham. No one knew why she was walking on the heath in such bad weather. Jago stored the information; he would pass this on to Simmons. The accident may not have been the one they had discussed, but then again… it may well have been.
Returning to the kitchen of Buchanan House for his evening meal, Jago related what he’d learned about the accident on the heath.
‘I think it might be time to make some discreet enquiries,’ Simmons said.
‘Oooh,’ Alice muttered, ‘it’s like one of them Sherlock Holmes stories. You know, that series of short tales published in The Strand magazine about ten years ago!’
‘And how would you know about them?’ the cook asked indignantly.
‘I read the copies the Master keeps in the parlour!’ Alice said simply.
‘Alice Danby!’ the cook gasped.
At the girl’s grin, she rolled her eyes as she served Jago an extra portion of rice pudding. The boy was looking peaked even in this good spring weather, and Beulah Jukes was making it her mission to feed the boy up.
‘Alice,’ Simmons said as the maid prepared the tea tray for her mistress, ‘are you able to keep a keen eye on her upstairs… without her knowledge of course?’
‘Oh ar,’ the girl said excitedly.
‘Discretion, Alice,’ Simmons reminded her as he tapped the side of his nose.
*
Hortense watched Alice place the tray on the table then snapped, ‘What are you staring at, girl? Get out!’
Alice bobbed a quick curtsy and fled the room.
‘The missis is in a foul mood again,’ Alice said as she entered the kitchen. ‘I’ll be glad when the master gets home, she’s a bit more civil when he’s here. Mind you, he don’t seem to be around much of late and when he is he takes himself straight off to his study and doesn’t come out.’
‘I suggest we keep our heads down, all of us, until we discover exactly what’s going on in this house,’ the butler said quietly. ‘My gut tells me something is definitely amiss with her upstairs!’ Lifting his head, Simmons rolled his eyes before seeing the others nod in agreement.
*
Upstairs, Hortense was considering removing another jewel from its hiding place in the study, but no, it was far too risky at the moment. Of course she could always steal one and blame the staff, but the gossip in the town would be horrendous. She would be shame-faced, it would be known far and wide that Hortense Buchanan was incompetent in hiring household staff. No, she would bide her time, a better opportunity would present itself, she felt sure.
Hortense shivered as she thought again of the dead woman on the heath. There had been no visit from the police, and no talk in the town that she could discern. Although it had been an accident that had taken Mahula’s life, Hortense thought how simple it had been. Getting rid of the woman’s son however would not be so easy… not so easy at all.
Chapter 21
Abel and Zachariah walked into the graveyard at St. Bartholomew’s Church on Jennens Row and placed their flowers on the grave of Mahula Buchanan. Looking at the headstone, they both said their silent words to the woman who meant so much to them.
Turning away, Abel said, ‘I have an appointment, son, and I’d like you to come with me.’ Seeing Zachariah look up at him, he went on, ‘I want you to learn the art of business consultancy.’ Abel saw the boy smile for the first time in weeks as they strode out of the churchyard.
Riding down Albert Street, they passed factories and warehouses on their right; the hide and skin market was situated on thei
r left, the awful smell of the tanning riding on the air. Coming to a crossroads, they turned left into Moor Street, passing the Roman Catholic Chapel and many more workshops and factories. The brick buildings lined one side of the street and on the other side stood the Great Western Railway Moor Street Station, and a small police station. At the end of the street was the hotel where the business meeting was to be held. Not far from the busy Bull Ring, the hotel owner needed advice as to how to attract more custom. Abel been thinking for a while of bringing Zach’ on board regarding the business. Since his mother’s death, the boy had appeared to lose interest in everything, so Abel was hoping this would spark and hold his son’s attention on something other than bereavement.
As they tethered their horses behind the hotel building, Abel said, ‘Now Zach, I want you to keep quiet and listen good. Understand?’
Had Abel known at that moment just how successful the boy would become, he would have been delighted with his decision to bring the boy into the business.
*
In a town many miles from where Abel and Zachariah sat in their meeting, Edna Lucas sat at the table in the small cottage that belonged to Peg Meriwether. Her son and Peg were out strolling in the balmy spring evening as they did so often since they began courting.
‘He does love you, you know…’ Edna began, ‘but he loves you like a sister.’
Orpha nodded, her eyes misted as she continued to stir and pour the creamy chocolate mixture into the tiny patty tins she had had specially made. These were placed on the cold slab to cool. Inside each dent of another tin she’d placed a small round of wax paper which she pushed down with a sawn-off piece of broom handle, making the wax paper crinkle up at the sides like a tiny cup. The cooling chocolate would be poured into each paper.
With all the trays now on the cold slab, Orpha sat and began to fill boxes with the small cups of confectionery that had set perfectly. Once the base board of the box was filled with sweets, Orpha pushed the lid on and ran her hand over the label on the top.
Orpha began to fill another box with fudge and said, ‘Edna… what if they marry? What will become of us… you and I?’
‘Ah, you think they’ll want to live here…’ the woman rolled her eyes round the room, ‘and you’ll be sent packing.’
‘It would be only right that I move out if they were married, Edna, I understand that, but where would I go? Also, would Ezzie continue to work the boat with you?’
‘I think he would; there’s no work anywhere else for him, that’s for sure.’ Edna shook her head. ‘Anyway, let’s cross that bridge when we come to it. Ain’t no use meeting trouble round the corner. Now, give me a box and I’ll help with the packing of these here chocolates.’ As the last words left her mouth, a sweet filled the space and Orpha laughed watching the woman devour the fudge.
*
As time rolled by, ‘The Choc’s Box’ business grew rapidly and the girls were working flat out. They were exhausted, only having a few hours’ sleep each night to keep the orders for their product fulfilled, as well as working the garden.
Doing the accounts at the kitchen table one day, Orpha said, ‘Peg! We have enough in the bank to open a tiny shop!’
‘What?!’ Peg dropped into a chair.
‘It would make sense if we could find a building that was suitable and cheap,’ Orpha replied.
‘Wait,’ Peg held up her hands, ‘we were going to take our business to Birmingham, which we ain’t done yet.’
‘True enough,’ Orpha agreed, ‘but we haven’t needed to as yet. I can’t believe how well we’ve done here in Wolverhampton. If we carry on like this we will have to take on more help.’
‘Pay someone you mean?’ Peg queried.
‘Yes,’ came Orpha’s reply as she looked at the figures again, ‘it would be the only way to fill the orders in time.’
‘No!’ Peg snapped. ‘I ain’t paying someone my hard-earned money!’
‘Peg, they would be working for us… they would earn their wage,’ Orpha explained.
‘I don’t give a bugger!’ Peg slammed her hand on the table. ‘Orpha, we’ve worked so hard to get to this point…’
‘Yes we have, Peg,’ Orpha agreed, ‘and if we take on more help we can make more chocolates, sell more and see a higher profit!’
Peg considered Orpha’s words, seeing the sense of them, then conceded with, ‘Who we gonna get to help?’
Orpha smiled as she said, ‘We could ask Lottie Spence; it would get her out of that freezing market.’
‘Now that’s a bloody good idea!’ Peg beamed.
‘First though, I think we need to speak to a financial consultant. That way we will have all of our incomings and outgoings at our fingertips. The consultant will advise us of the best thing to do.’
‘Where are we going to find a consultant?’ Peg asked.
‘I suppose Birmingham would be the best bet. We could go next week… on the train!’ Orpha watched Peg’s grin widen.
‘Orpha,’ Peg said suddenly, ‘ain’t your father a consultant of sorts?’
Orpha’s face showed surprise then a frown appeared. ‘Yes… he is. But to go to him would enrage my mother and, even after all this time, I couldn’t face her, Peg… I just couldn’t!’ Orpha became distressed at thinking about how much she missed her father and how he would be feeling about her disappearance. She had so desperately wanted to go back to him, but fear of her mother, ingrained from an early age, had forced her to keep her distance.
‘All right girl, don’t get yer knickers in a twist, we’ll find someone else.’
Orpha giggled at Peg’s expression as she gathered her papers together from the table. In spite of her giggles, thoughts of her father left her feeling a little sad.
*
The last few months had seen the young Zachariah Buchanan become an extremely competent business adviser who was in as much demand as his father. The partnership had worked well, so much so that they had located an office in Burlington Passage next to the Midland Hotel and the bank in Birmingham. Running parallel with Stephenson Street, Burlington Passage was situated behind New Street Station. It was an ideal position for catching trade not only from the station but also from the bank. An advertisement in the local newspapers informed anyone interested of their whereabouts, and the office proved extremely busy.
Peg and Orpha alighted the steam train at New Street hardly able to contain their excitement of being in the big city. Buying a newspaper from the boy standing outside the station, Peg suggested finding a tea shop. Walking down Station Street into John Bright Street, they spotted a small coffee house near the Alexandra Palace. Never having tasted coffee before, they decided to try it. As they waited for their order, Peg glanced through the newspaper and came upon an advertisement that caught her eye.
Messrs Buchanan are proud to announce the opening of their new office for financial consultancy. The office can be found behind New Street Railway Station in Burlington Passage, next to the Midland Hotel.
Peg folded the newspaper and tucked it into her bag as the waitress delivered the tray of coffee to their table.
Looking at the tray, the bewildered girls then looked at the waitress. The girl leaned over to unload the tray, whispering, ‘Pour the coffee then add milk and sugar.’ Winking conspiratorially, she left them to their drink.
It was as they drank their second delicious cup that Orpha said, ‘You know, Peg, this would be perfect with our chocolate, I’m sure.’
‘Hmmm,’ Peg said, smacking her lips, ‘let’s get some!’
Enquiring of the waitress where the coffee could be purchased, Orpha noted down the address the waitress whispered to her. She had definitely earned herself a big tip today.
Orpha had decided, since she was in Birmingham, she would go and visit Mr and Mrs Toye who had been so kind to her. Peg said she wanted to explore some of the town and they agreed to meet back at the coffee shop for more of the delicious drink at midday.
Paying their bil
l and giving the waitress a large tip, the girls parted company outside the shop. Orpha strode out for Upper Priory to visit the Toyes and Peg watched until she was out of sight. Walking along Stephenson Street, Peg turned into Burlington Passage where she immediately spotted the Midland Hotel. Striding purposefully towards it, she stopped outside a building next door which held the nameplate ‘Buchanan Financial Consultants’.
A little bell tinkled as she walked in and a secretary sat at a desk in front of her asked with an astonished look, ‘Can I help you?’
‘Yes,’ Peg said as the woman stared at her, ‘I’d like to make an appointment with Messrs Buchanan for two o’clock this afternoon.’
Dragging her eyes away from Peg, the woman checked in her appointment book. ‘Mr Buchanan Junior could see you at two…’
‘No,’ Peg interrupted her firmly. ‘I need to see Messrs Buchanan at two this afternoon.’
‘I’m afraid Mr. Buchanan Senior has a client at…’ the woman began.
Peg leaned forward, saying quietly, ‘Mr Buchanan Senior will not be at all happy with you should he miss this appointment with me. In fact, you could well find yourself out of a job by the close of business today, so…’
The woman readied her pencil and asked, ‘Your name please?’
‘Peg Meriwether. I will return precisely at two and I expect to be seen by both gentlemen. Good day to you.’ Turning on her heel, Peg left the office.
Remembering the address the waitress had given them, she hailed a hansom cab telling the driver where she needed to go. Arriving at her destination, Peg asked the driver to wait. The smell of coffee was almost overwhelming as Peg strode into the building.
Half an hour later, Peg thanked the cab driver for waiting and climbed inside, instructing him to take her back to New Street Station. As she rode along, Peg took a paper from her bag and read it. It was an invoice for four bins of roast and ground coffee. Orpha would be delighted.
Paying the driver and adding a generous tip for his patience, Peg walked back to the coffee shop and saw Orpha waiting for her. Sitting at the same table as previously, awaiting their order, Peg passed the invoice from her bag to Orpha.
The Lost Sisters: A gritty saga about friendships, family and finding a place to call home Page 14
