The Trouble at Wakeley Court (An Angela Marchmont Mystery Book 8)

by Clara Benson

  She looked around and seemed not unsatisfied with the effect her story was having on her listeners, who were all agog.

  ‘What happened after that?’ said Sergeant Merrow.

  ‘Well, of course I did not know what to do,’ said Irina. ‘I waited and waited, but I did not hear a thing—not even the sound of footsteps walking about downstairs, and so it seemed to me that perhaps they had gone out. Without thinking I tried the handle of the door to my room, and to my astonishment I found it was unlocked, so I crept downstairs as quietly as I possibly could, opened the front door and ran out into the street. I ran and ran and ran until I could run no more, and then I stopped a woman and asked her please to tell me the way to the police station, and she did, and then I knew I was safe at last.’

  ‘Didn’t you see anything of the two men when you came downstairs?’ said Merrow.

  ‘Nothing,’ said Irina. ‘I think the house was empty. I believe they must have changed their minds and decided to let me go. Perhaps they crept upstairs and unlocked the door without my hearing them, and then escaped.’

  ‘That seems rather an odd thing to do, since they’d gone to all the trouble of kidnapping you,’ said Hesketh. ‘I think it’s more likely that your captor simply forgot to lock the door after him. I wonder where the two men went. I don’t suppose you saw the second man at all?’

  ‘No,’ said Irina. ‘I heard only his voice. The only man I saw was Edwards.’

  Here Angela frowned but said nothing. Mr. Hesketh and Sergeant Merrow continued questioning Irina for a few more minutes, but it was evident that she knew little more than she had already told. She had obviously been drugged, carried off to a house in Percham, and held prisoner there until her escape, but beyond that they were little further forward in finding out who was responsible—for Edwards had certainly not acted alone—and indeed, from what Irina had said, it did not sound as though he had been the man in charge of things. Perhaps this second man was the ringleader, but who was he? Until they found him they might never know exactly what had happened. All they could do was to keep searching for Edwards. Once he was under arrest he might be induced to speak.

  ‘Well, if that is all, gentlemen, then I think we might allow Irina to go,’ said Miss Bell. ‘She has been away for two days and I am sure her friends would like to see her and welcome her back before she goes to bed. We are all very glad about your safe return, Irina,’ she went on, ‘and I know your father will be overjoyed to hear the news, for he has been very worried about you.’

  ‘I, too, am very happy to be back,’ said Irina.

  ‘Mr. Hesketh, suppose you take her to Miss Finch,’ said the headmistress. ‘She will be in need of a good night’s sleep after her ordeal. She can stay in my room again. We shall have to keep a close eye on her, at least until Edwards is caught.’

  Just as everyone was leaving the room, the telephone-bell rang. It was a call for Sergeant Merrow from the Percham police station and he remained behind to take it. A minute or two later he came out into the corridor to find Mr. Hesketh and Mr. Everich vying with apparent politeness over which of them should look after Irina. Neither had the slightest intention of leaving her to the other, and it looked as though an impasse had been reached.

  ‘Might I speak to you for a moment, Mr. Hesketh, sir?’ said Merrow.

  Hesketh grimaced and glanced at Angela, who fortunately was still present and gave him to understand silently that she would keep an eye on the Princess and Everich. Hesketh returned into Miss Bell’s study with the sergeant.

  ‘What is it?’ he said.

  ‘It looks as though Edwards has been found, sir,’ said Sergeant Merrow.

  ‘Arrested?’ said Hesketh, although it was perfectly obvious from the sergeant’s face what he meant.

  ‘No, sir,’ said Merrow. ‘Dead on the beach with his throat cut. He won’t be able to tell us anything now.’

  ‘Damn,’ said Mr. Hesketh. He sighed and rubbed his face tiredly. ‘I take it this other fellow did it. If what the girl says is true, then it looks as though there was a disagreement between them as to what to do with her. Funny, since I thought the whole point of taking her in the first place was to kill her.’

  ‘Not a pleasant thought, sir, is it?’ said Sergeant Merrow. ‘I mean, killing a little girl for political reasons. I don’t excuse murder, but I can understand why people do it when they have a personal grudge against someone. To kill a person you’ve never met and don’t care a fig for, though—why, that’s a different thing altogether. It’s just plain wicked.’

  ‘That’s true enough,’ said Hesketh. ‘I don’t suppose your men have any witnesses to Edwards’ murder?’

  ‘No. They’re still searching the area for clues, although the darkness is going to make it difficult, of course. Apparently the body was found an hour or two ago by a man walking his dogs, who came and reported it to them in a great hurry. Of course they went to the beach immediately and identified it quickly as that of Edwards, since they already had a description of him.’

  ‘You said his throat was cut. That sort of thing leaves a lot of blood. Do they know if he was killed where he was found?’

  ‘Difficult to say, sir,’ said the sergeant. ‘His body was left at the high tide mark and the waves were lapping over him when the man found him, so any blood would have been washed away.’

  ‘Hmm,’ said Hesketh. ‘I wonder whether that was deliberate, or whether the murderer just happened to pick that spot by chance.’

  ‘Didn’t the young lady mention having heard the sounds of a struggle?’ said Merrow suddenly. ‘I wonder whether the murder mightn’t have happened then.’

  ‘It’s possible,’ said Hesketh. ‘Although how the murderer managed to carry a dead body covered in blood all the way to the beach in the middle of the afternoon without being spotted is beyond me. You shall have to put your men on to finding that house, Merrow. It ought to be easy enough from Irina’s description. After all, Percham is a small place, and someone must have noticed something going on.’

  ‘I’ve no doubt we’ll find it soon enough,’ said Merrow. ‘And once we do, I dare say that will lead us to the identity of the second man. Now, if you’ll excuse me, sir, I’m wanted back in Percham. I shall let you know as soon as we discover anything.’

  He departed, leaving Hesketh to inform the proper people of what had happened to Edwards. Miss Bell exclaimed in dismay at the news, although in reality she was half-relieved, for that seemed to dispose of at least part of the problem very neatly. One of Irina’s kidnappers was dead, and she had no doubt that the other one would be caught very soon. The Princess was back where she belonged, and Wakeley Court was once more a place to which one’s daughters might be safely sent without fear of their being rudely abducted by foreign assassins. Most importantly, there was every chance that the story might be hushed up before a scandal developed, and the reputation of the school preserved. The headmistress breathed a little sigh of relief and thought of Irina, sleeping peacefully upstairs. She had been locked in from the outside this time—although the very idea of her running off again was absurd—and when Miss Bell went up later on she found the girl lying fast asleep as though nothing had happened. She gazed at Irina for a moment, and quite possibly offered up a silent prayer of thanks, then got into bed and put her keys under the pillow.

  TWENTY-TWO

  Meanwhile, the hunt for Florrie Evans had begun. Since it was not yet dinner-time, Violet proposed their going to speak to the girls in the Fifth Form common-room.

  ‘Oh, it’s you again, is it?’ said Sarah, eyeing Barbara with impatience. ‘No, we don’t know where Florrie has gone, and no, there’s no use in your asking us about it again. We couldn’t tell Miss Devlin anything and we can’t tell you anything either. Now, you’d better buzz off, as we’ve got the most awful Geography test tomorrow and we haven’t got time for anything else.’

  ‘Oh, Miss Devlin knows, does she?’ said Violet, but Sarah made shooing motions with her hands
and they had no choice but to leave.

  ‘Let’s go and look through her things,’ said Barbara. ‘We might find a clue there.’

  They went up to the Fifth Form dorm, which strictly speaking was supposed to be out of bounds, and began snooping through the little chest of drawers that was next to Florrie’s bed.

  ‘I only wish we knew what we were looking for,’ said Barbara. ‘I suppose it’s too much to hope for that we’ll find a letter scrawled in blood that says, “Help! I have been taken by White Slavers and am being held prisoner in the old granary near Burnham Market.”’

  ‘You don’t really hope for that, do you?’ said Violet, who was not yet fully accustomed to Barbara’s odd sense of humour.

  ‘Of course not, silly,’ said Barbara. ‘I was just using it as an example. There’s no such letter, anyway.’

  ‘There are no letters at all, in fact,’ said Violet. ‘Don’t you think that’s rather odd?’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Well, don’t you get letters?’

  ‘Of course I do,’ said Barbara.

  ‘And so do I. But Florrie doesn’t seem to have any.’

  ‘Perhaps her people never write to her,’ said Barbara.

  ‘That’s rather sad, don’t you think?’ said Violet. She frowned. ‘And it’s just occurred to me: what exactly do we know about her family? Has she ever told you anything about them?’

  ‘No, now that you mention it, I don’t believe she has,’ said Barbara. ‘Perhaps she’s an orphan.’

  ‘You’re an orphan too, aren’t you? But you get plenty of letters,’ said Violet.

  ‘That’s true enough,’ agreed Barbara. ‘Yes, I see what you mean. It is rather strange. I wonder why she’s never said anything about her people.’

  ‘And if she doesn’t get letters, then presumably nobody comes to take her out on Saturdays and Sundays either,’ said Violet, who liked to pursue a train of thought to the end.

  ‘Do you think she has run away, then?’ said Barbara. ‘I say, I hope it’s not because of anything I’ve done. I should hate to think I’d made her unhappy.’

  ‘I don’t believe it’s anything like that,’ said Violet. ‘She didn’t seem unhappy to me at all. Oh!’ she exclaimed, as she suddenly remembered something. ‘She did get a letter, though. Of course she did.’ Barbara looked at her questioningly, and she continued, ‘It was on Saturday. We went out to sit in the Quad and she had a letter then. I remember she was reading it.’

  ‘Who was it from?’ said Barbara.

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Violet. ‘She was holding it so I couldn’t see. Besides,’ she went on primly, ‘you don’t suppose I read other people’s letters over their shoulders, do you?’

  ‘No, but there’s no reason why she shouldn’t have told you who sent it,’ said Barbara. ‘I mean to say, it’s the sort of thing one would mention, isn’t it?’

  ‘Well, the letter isn’t here, at any rate,’ said Violet. ‘She must have taken it with her when she left.’

  ‘She didn’t take any money, though,’ said Barbara. ‘I don’t understand it at all. Why would she take a letter but no money?’

  ‘How do you know she didn’t take any money?’

  ‘Because the other day she told me she’d spent all last week’s, and when we went to get some more Matron gave her this ten-shilling note. Look, you can see someone’s been doing sums on it. That’s how I remember. There’s just this and a few pennies in her purse, so she can’t have taken any with her.’

  ‘If this was all the money she had, then she can’t have gone too far,’ said Violet, thinking. ‘I mean, she can’t have taken the train home or anything like that.’

  ‘Then she must be somewhere around here,’ said Barbara. ‘Do you suppose she’s gone to hide in the village?’

  ‘But where?’ said Violet.

  Barbara had no chance to reply, for just then they were discovered by a Fifth Former, who roundly chastised them, firstly for being present in the Fifth Form dorm at all, and secondly for snooping through another girl’s things, and threatened to report them to Miss Finch.

  ‘But we’re looking for Florrie,’ protested Barbara. ‘We thought there might be a clue here.’

  ‘Out!’ said the girl, and they were forced to leave before she carried out her threat.

  At dinner they put their heads together as they tried to think of where Florrie might have gone.

  ‘Do you think she ran away because of this letter, then?’ said Barbara.

  ‘I can’t think of any other reason,’ said Violet.

  Barbara gasped suddenly as an idea struck her.

  ‘She must have been kidnapped!’ she said.

  ‘Don’t be absurd,’ said Violet. ‘Who would want to kidnap Florrie?’

  ‘Why, the same people who took Irina, of course,’ said Barbara. ‘That must be it, I’m sure of it. Why else would she have gone missing at the same time? It’s far too much of a coincidence.’

  ‘But why did they take her?’ said Violet.

  Barbara was thinking.

  ‘Perhaps Florrie and Irina went out together on Saturday night. I expect Irina was frightened of the dark, or something, and insisted on having company. That’s what Florrie’s letter was—a note from Irina asking her to come out with her in the middle of the night. They were both taken together, I’m certain of it!’

  ‘Are you sure?’ said Violet doubtfully. ‘I suppose it’s possible.’

  ‘Of course it’s possible,’ said Barbara. ‘It’s the only explanation that makes sense. Why, it’s ridiculous to imagine that both of them went missing separately on the very same day. They must have gone together.’

  It seemed rather far-fetched, but Violet was forced to admit that Barbara might have a point.

  ‘But in that case, if they did go together, there’s no sense in our continuing to search around here,’ she said. ‘They’ve most probably been taken far away and the police have all that in hand.’

  ‘Yes, I suppose they do,’ said Barbara soberly, as she remembered the dragging of the lake that afternoon. ‘Very well, then, let’s give it up for now. Do you think there’s any use in our telling Miss Bell what we think happened?’

  ‘I doubt it. They won’t want to hear any childish theories from us, will they?’ said Violet with some bitterness.

  ‘Still, though, I think we ought to,’ said Barbara, who was used to being reprimanded and was thus less affected by what adults thought of her.

  ‘You do it, then,’ said Violet.

  As it happened, there was no need for either of them to do it, for shortly after dinner the news came that Princess Irina had been found alive and safe. No details were given, but no mention was made of Florrie Evans either, and when Barbara asked Miss Devlin whether Florrie had been found too the Games mistress shook her head but was too distracted to answer any further questions. It looked, therefore, as though they were back where they started.

  ‘All right, then,’ said Barbara, as she and Violet huddled together in a corner of the common-room. ‘Let’s try and think about it from Florrie’s point of view. I still say there’s a connection between her disappearance and Irina’s, but none of the teachers are likely to tell us what they know so we’ll have to think it out for ourselves. Let’s start by assuming that Florrie went out with Irina on Saturday night and was kidnapped with her.’

  ‘She wasn’t, though, was she?’ said Violet suddenly. ‘Don’t you remember? Mr. Everich told us that Irina was seen running into the village, but he never said anything about a second girl.’

  ‘Oh, yes,’ said Barbara. ‘I’d forgotten about that. Well, then, let’s suppose that she went out with Irina but somehow escaped in all the confusion. Where did she go?’

  ‘If it happened as you say, then she ought to have run back to the school and asked Miss Bell to call the police,’ said Violet.

  ‘She didn’t, though,’ said Barbara. ‘I wonder why not.’

  ‘Perhaps she couldn’t,’ said
Violet.

  ‘But why?’ said Barbara. ‘Do you mean she broke her ankle and couldn’t move, or something?’

  ‘Hardly,’ said Violet. ‘They’d have found her by now if that were the case. No, I was thinking more on the lines of her running off to hide somewhere.’

  ‘But still, she’d have come out by now, wouldn’t she?’ said Barbara.

  This was a facer, Violet had to admit.

  ‘Perhaps she was frightened of something,’ she said at last.

  ‘What, though?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Violet.

  The two girls stared at one another with worried expressions.

  ‘I’m awfully afraid something’s happened to her,’ said Barbara.

  ‘Then let’s stop talking about it and go and look for her,’ said Violet with sudden decision. ‘We can’t go chasing across the country after her, but at the very least we can search around here. The grounds are big enough, after all. She might be anywhere.’

  ‘Well, she’s not in the lake, at any rate,’ said Barbara. ‘Look here, it’s too dark to go out now, but we might scout around inside for a bit. It’s always possible that she’s hiding somewhere in the building.’

  ‘All right. Where shall we look first?’

  ‘Well, there’s no use in searching any of the downstairs rooms, is there?’ said Barbara. ‘They’re all in use. And the servants are in and out of their quarters all day long, so there’d be nowhere to hide in that part of the building.’

  ‘What about a cupboard?’ said Violet. ‘A cupboard would make a good hiding-place.’

  ‘Not for three days,’ said Barbara. ‘No, if she’s anywhere indoors she’ll be upstairs, probably in the attics. Let’s go and look there, shall we? No—first we’ll need a torch. I’ll run up and get one, and meet you by the door to the attic stairs.’