by L. A. Nisula
“Yes, there was. I mean, is. I mean, Nora was attacked!”
Apparently Randall did occasionally stumble on true emergencies. “What happened?”
“She was attacked.”
I reminded myself that pushing him under a cab would solve nothing. “I mean, what led up to the attack?”
“Oh. Mother sent her out for some, you know—um—fripperies, like—”
I would have helped him along, only knowing Randall, fripperies could mean anything from dress trimmings to kitchen utensils, so I nodded encouragingly until he got the point and went on.
“So she went out to get whatever it was, and on the way back, someone attacked her.”
That wasn’t quite as detailed an account as I had hoped for, but it was better than previous experience had led me to expect of Randall. “Where was she when it happened?”
“By the square, not far from Mother’s house at all. Just imagine if Mother had gone herself to do the shopping.”
From his tone, I couldn’t tell if he was worried about his mother, or wishing he could have seen the ensuing battle. Either way, I tried for more information. “How did she manage to get away?”
“Constable Declan came upon them while he was on his rounds and scared the attackers away, then brought her to the doctor.”
“That was lucky for her. Is he all right?”
Randall paused. “I don’t know. I didn’t see him. I know he went with her.”
So he could have been hurt as well, depending on how determined the attackers were. As concerned as I was, I couldn’t see why Randall had come to me. “What did you want me to do?”
“I don’t know. But I was having tea with Mother, and Nora asked for your address, and when Mother asked her why she needed it, she got all quiet and secretive. I thought maybe you and she had some plot going on or something.”
“I can assure you we had no plots, but I’ll go and visit her. Maybe she remembered something she wanted to tell me. Is she at home?”
Randall shook his head. “They wanted to keep her overnight at St. Bart’s.”
If she’d been asking for me, then I shouldn’t have any trouble getting in, especially if Inspector Wainwright had left a constable I knew to guard her, which led to the question, “And who told Inspector Wainwright?”
Randall looked surprised. “I suppose Constable Declan might have.”
“But you aren’t sure. Do you know if he returned to the Yard?”
Randall shook his head.
“But the doctor did say he was all right?”
“I suppose. I didn’t think to ask.”
If I’d thought he hadn’t asked because he was that concerned about Nora, I wouldn’t have minded, but I was fairly certain he’d simply thought it was unimportant. But then the doctor would most likely have said something if Constable Declan was too badly hurt. I would assume Inspector Wainwright had been told. Otherwise, I would feel obligated to tell him, and I didn’t think he would be pleased to know I had been informed of this development before he was.
~*~*~
St. Bartholomew’s Hospital was not far from Paddington Street, so I set out at once without bothering to stop back at my flat, although I did stop at the chemist’s on the way and picked up a box of mixed chocolates and a penny novelette with a lurid cover that I thought seemed like Nora’s sort of thing. My name had been left with the matron as someone permitted to see Nora, so I was sent up to her room directly. She’d been given a private one, presumably to make it easier for Constable Edwards to keep an eye on her. He was standing guard outside her door when I arrived. “How is she?”
“Fine, they just want to keep an eye on her, and it seemed easier to keep watch on her here than at Rusham Street, just in case they come back.”
“Do you think they will?”
He shrugged. “She’s living in a house where a murder was committed, so who knows.”
“And how is Constable Declan?”
Constable Edwards looked pleased that I had asked. “Looks like he was in quite a fight, but no worse than that. If you want to see him when you’re done here, he’s in the next room.”
“If it won’t bother him, I will. Thank you.” I went into Nora’s room.
Nora was sitting up in bed. I didn’t see any sign of bandages, although she did have some bruises on her arm. She smiled when she saw me. “Miss Pengear.”
“Hello. I brought you these.” I held up the presents then put them on the nightstand. “Randall said you were asking about me.”
“He needn’t have gone for you, miss. It was just something I thought of.”
I sat in the straight-back chair beside the bed. “Well since I’m here, would you like to tell me about it?”
“It’s probably nothing, but after we talked, I’ve been thinking about that day. Remember those men that came from the charity?”
I nodded.
“It didn’t seem odd at the time, but now that I think about it, it doesn’t make sense.”
Since she was in a hospital bed I was finding a bit more patience for her. “What doesn’t?”
“When Mrs. Fetherton gives to a charity, she has me collect up what’s going and put it in the little storeroom off the kitchen. Then they come to the back door and collect it. They never come to the front door, always the tradesmen’s door.”
“That is odd, but perhaps these ones were new? Or they tried the back door and no one was there?”
“I thought of that, as we were all with Constable Declan, but that’s not really the odd part. There was nothing in the storeroom.”
“You’re certain? Maybe she was keeping it somewhere else and hadn’t gotten around to asking you to bring it down?”
Nora shook her head. “It was there the next morning.” She looked at me, expecting some response, only I had no idea what to answer.
“What do you think happened?” At least then I’d know the correct reaction.
“She must have brought it down herself in the night, but why? Why not wait until I could do it in the morning? And there’s more. I was looking at what was there—usually, maids get first crack at the lady’s things.” She looked to see how I would react to that.
I nodded. She was right; most ladies did give the servants first choice of discarded items.
“So I look through what she puts out, not that I want most of it anyway. She had a coat in there that was barely worn, not something she’d usually get rid of, and most of the rest wasn’t anything I recognized from the house. Certainly nothing I’ve sent out for the washerwoman.”
The story did feel strange, but I couldn’t put my finger on why. “So what do you think she did?”
“Bought new old clothes to put out for the charity? That’s all I can think of. But why would she do that?”
“Maybe she forgot she’d offered to give them something and felt bad when she didn’t have anything for them?” I suggested, but that didn’t sound a bit like Mrs. Fetherton.
Nora shook her head. “I don’t know. It just seemed odd, so I wanted to ask you if I should tell the inspector, but he was already here to talk about the attack, and when I told him I was trying to find your address, he asked why so I told him.”
“That was good that you did. Maybe he can make some sense out of it.” I certainly couldn’t, and it meant he had been informed of these events already. “Do you mind telling me how you ended up here?”
Nora sat up, eager to tell me all about her adventure now that it was over. “I was on my way to the haberdashery by the square to get the mistress some sewing thread to fix the button on her dress. I was just past the square and getting ready to cross to the shops when two men jumped out of the bushes and grabbed me. I didn’t know what to do, so I screamed and bit the one right on the arm. He had it around my neck, you see, so I was able to get at it. He let go and the other one, the one I think was the leader, started yelling at him ‘Grab her! Grab her!’ so I started kicking at them. And just when I was sure he was going t
o drag me into their cab and do away with me, Constable Declan came around the corner, brandishing his nightstick, and drove them off.”
I had the feeling that was a slightly exaggerated account, but probably true in general. “It was very brave of you to fight them off until Constable Declan could get there.”
Nora preened a bit under the praise but tried to be modest. “It was instinct, really. I wasn’t going to let them get me.”
“Do you remember what they looked like?”
“Like I told the inspector, the one behind me I couldn’t see, just a hairy red arm around my neck. The other one was short and skinny and had a hat pulled down so I couldn’t see much of his face, just a hard, square jaw.” She leaned in as she said it to give the words more drama.
“It must have been terrifying.” I couldn’t think of anyone in the case so far who was small and skinny. I thought about the hairy red arm. “Do you think the arm was red from sunburn or exertion or what?”
Nora looked surprised at the question and the quick change from dramatic to practical. “It was the hair, of course.” She yawned, worn out now that the excitement of the telling was over and the pragmatic questions were starting, I supposed.
I patted her hand. “I’ll let you rest, then. Did you need anything?”
“No, Mr. Randall is coming by later, so he says, and Constable Declan was going to let my sister know.”
“You seem all set, then. I’ll stop in on Constable Declan on my way out and see how he’s doing.” Nora already looked drowsy, so I said goodbye and went looking for Constable Declan.
~*~*~
Constable Declan was sitting in a chair in the next room, not lying in bed I was glad to see, holding a compress to his left eye. He saw me and made to stand. “Don’t get up. Are you all right?”
“Just a little battered. They’re letting me go as soon as the swelling goes down and the doctor’s had another look at me.”
“Then do you mind telling me what happened? I’ve been to see Nora, but I didn’t like to ask too many questions.”
“It was pure luck, I’m afraid. There was a pickpocket down by the park, so I was late on my rounds. Otherwise, I would have been too late to find her. She might very well have ended up in the river. I was walking my beat past the square when I heard what sounded like a fight. I went to see what it was and there were two men trying to drag her into a closed carriage while she was hitting them with her shopping bag. I interfered, and she was able to break away. Unfortunately, as soon as she was behind me, they jumped into the carriage and started off. I thought it was best to get her to the hospital rather than pursue.”
“She’s lucky there was a pickpocket. You’re quite the hero.”
Constable Declan grinned a little at that but said, “Just my job, miss.”
“What kind of men were they?”
“Just the usual sort of thugs, I would think.” He noticed my silence. “Were you looking for a description? Planning on adding Bow Street Runner to your list of occupations?”
I smiled. “I suppose I was curious.”
“Nothing for you to poke around there. But we’re both going to be fine, so that’s the main thing. Inspector Wainwright will look into the descriptions I gave him.”
“In other words, stay out of it?”
“Exactly.”
“If my cousin weren’t involved, I’d stay out of the whole thing. But as I can’t see her being involved in this attack, I will leave it to Inspector Wainwright.”
“I’m sure he’ll be pleased to hear it.”
After wishing Constable Declan a speedy recovery, I left for Paddington Street.
As I walked home from the Underground station, I was deep in thought. It was too much of a coincidence for Nora to have been attacked so soon after the murder. We needed to at least consider a connection. (I could just imagine Inspector Wainwright’s expression at my use of the word “we.”) So what could the connection be? Nora insisted that she hadn’t seen anything the day of the murder, but had she seen something and not realized its significance? That was a real possibility, especially since no one seemed to have a good grasp on exactly what the murder had been about. Perhaps she had seen something that would make it all fit together once the significance was realized. Then there was her Mr. Graham. He’d clearly been involved in some sort of criminal enterprise, but would it have had anything to do with the murder? He’d been there, but he’d run out with her before it happened and then spent the afternoon with her. But I had just left my cryptic message for him at Sternwell Financial. Could that have triggered the attack? I certainly hoped not. I’d been thinking of the murder, not what other crimes might be hiding around Rusham Street.
I was so preoccupied with the idea that Jacob Graham could have had something to do with the attack that I didn’t realize there was anyone in the entryway to 334 until I heard, “Cassie, you’re back at last.”
I looked up from my keys to find Milly sitting in the chair beside the stairs. “They released you.” I realized I didn’t sound as pleased as I might have and managed a smile.
If Milly noticed I was less than thrilled, she didn’t show it. “They did. Apparently I have an excellent alibi for poor Nora’s attack, being locked up and all, and that was enough for Inspector Wainwright. Oh, and he gave me this for you. He had a funny look on his face when he did.” She held out an envelope.
As the envelope did not appear to be moving and, therefore, was highly unlikely to contain, say, a small poisonous snake, I took it and opened it. Inside I found the bottom of the typed sheet I had left Inspector Wainwright, the part with the accounting of what he owed me, neatly torn away from the rest of the page and wrapped around the exact amount stated. I assumed it was his idea of a joke, although up until this case I hadn’t known him to have a sense of humor. I tucked the envelope into my pocket and motioned for Milly to follow me up to my flat. Inside, I put the kettle on and found some of the scones Mrs. Albright had left. Food was always a good distraction when Milly was around.
Milly wandered around the flat, looking at my things. “You should do something with this yarn. It’s really very nice. If you weren’t planning on it, I think I could...”
I cut her off before she offered to take my yarn off of my hands. There were limits to my hospitality. “I’m saving it for when the murder is solved. Tea?”
Once Milly was settled and distracted by the scones, I decided it was well past time for her to help me on the case, particularly considering she was the one who kept insisting I work on it. “Tell me about that day. When did you and Randall decide to go visit his mother?”
“Just before we came here.”
“But surely he knew about it before.”
“Oh no. We were going to go away for a weekend in Bath, but we were both a little short of funds and his mother wouldn’t lend him any. So I said, ‘Let’s go see the old bat and make her see reason.’ And then we argued about it and finally agreed that we’d ask you along so it looked respectable.”
Something about that sounded wrong, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. “Was he trying to get you to suggest it?”
“No, not at all. He even suggested we go to the Imperial to see a show instead. He knows I love the shows there, but I was so upset that his mother would be that high-handed after all the attention he showers on her, I insisted we go. Now I wish we hadn’t. If he hadn’t been there, he wouldn’t be a suspect.”
“Actually, he probably would have been. He did know her, and it was his mother’s house.”
“I suppose.” Milly finished the last scone then looked over the table. “Do you have any more of these?”
I knew I should feel at least a little sorry for her. After all, she had just spent the past two days in jail, even though it was her own fault for confessing. “Why don’t I run out and get us some fish and chips? You could have a lie-down on the couch while I’m gone.”
To my relief Milly took me up on the offer and went to lie down.
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~*~*~
When I got back with the fish and chips, Milly was up and about and looking through my things again, this time my completed typing projects. Fortunately, the promise of fried food pulled her away before she could make a complete mess of it. While we ate, I told her what I knew about the attack on Nora.
“She’s lucky,” Milly said, helping herself to the last of the chips. “She could have ended up like one of those messengers you were typing about.”
I nodded. “Or like Miss Hayes.”
Milly shuddered. “I wish we knew why she was there. Randall said he had no idea.”
I suspected there were a great many things Randall had no idea about. “Could she have thought he lived there?”
“I don’t know why.”
“Even if she went to the address you have and saw the wrong name?”
“I suppose it’s possible she wanted to get the right address from his mother, but why?” Milly looked over the remains of our meal as she wiped her fingers on a napkin. “It was very nice of you to have me over, but I should go back to my rooms and see what’s happened while I’ve been gone.”
I was a bit surprised she hadn’t done that first, unless she’d wanted a free meal. “Well, I’m glad you’re out. Be careful.”
“You don’t think they’ll come after me, do you? I mean you’re the one who’s investigating.”
That was not a comforting thought at all. “It’s best for us all to be careful, I think.”
“I suppose.” Milly grabbed up her things and left. I tidied up after our lunch then went to see what kind of mess she’d left my typing in.
Chapter 13
MILLY HAD MANAGED to jumble all of my papers together, and I spent the better part of an hour untangling the assault cases from the counterfeit money case from the pickpockets and the whole lot from my own notes on the Fetherton matter. As I had to re-read each page to see that it was put in the correct folder, it quickly became a tedious task. I was just finishing up and starting to consider patterns for the yarn piled up in the corner when I heard the bell on the message tube again. I considered ignoring it, then considered trying to disconnect the bell altogether, but both seemed churlish, especially if it was a policeman downstairs, so I went to have a look at who it was. I recognized Milly’s mint-green card at once. I sent down the key then glanced around the room but didn’t see anything she could have left behind.
