Chapter 23
When Etta came down to breakfast, she saw that Cecil wasn’t there.
‘Where’s Cecil?’ she asked, after greeting everyone and helping herself to a boiled egg and toast, she was going to get really fat, staying here unless she cut down. Except if she was in a coma and this was all a hallucination then it did not really matter, a little voice said to her. She hesitated then decided to keep with the boiled egg.
‘Didn’t know you cared,’ said Dennis Mowbray. ‘Probably upstairs in bed sleeping it off, I expect. Anything important?’
‘Not in the slightest.’
She went to sit next to Dorothy Mowbray who greeted her coldly. Stewart Grenadier gave her a big smile. That’s not helping, she thought. Algernon looked from him to her and frowned. Now does he not like Stewart smiling at me because he thinks it will upset Dotty or because he doesn’t like Stewart smiling at anyone. This thought was too confusing to follow and she suddenly longed to see Luke sitting across the table, smiling at her.
Miss Mittens was tucking into a plate of kippers with great gusto.
‘I do enjoy a good kipper,’ she said. ‘I can tell that this one has been smoked properly. It’s an art, you know.’
‘I can’t abide kippers,’ said Dorothy. She shuddered affectedly. ‘So smelly.’
‘Nothing wrong with kippers,’ Stewart Grenadier said. ‘Love ‘em, myself.’
Etta looked at Dorothy’s disconcerted face and wanted to laugh. She thought that Dotty had made the remark to impress Stewart with her refinement. Well, that had backfired.
After breakfast, Miss Mittens found her. ‘I rather think we should go and pay a call on Cecil.’
‘In his bedroom?’ Etta questioned. ‘Do we have to?’
Miss Mittens misunderstood her reluctance. ‘I know it’s not very ladylike conduct but the two of us can chaperone each other. Not that I need chaperoning,’ she chuckled, ‘but it is essential that you are. I really think we need to get to the bottom of his remarks last night. Time is of the essence.’
Etta had never heard anyone say that in real life before. Of course, this was not real life.
They found their way to Cecil’s room by dint of asking one of the house maids who looked suitably scandalised but told them anyway.
Miss Mitten knocked lightly on the door to begin with and then pounded harder and harder. Receiving no reply after a few minutes, she eventually turned the knob and opened the door.
Cecil’s bedroom was untidy with clothes strewn everywhere. He clearly did not have a valet. There were several glasses on the chest of drawers and bedside cabinet, some empty and some half-full. The bedclothes were rumpled and thrown back. Cecil was not in bed. He was not in the room.
‘The bathroom?’ suggested Miss Mittens but then they saw his dressing gown, a rather nasty black and gold affair, hanging on a hook on the back of the door and his navy sponge bag on the chest of drawers.
‘He must be somewhere else,’ Etta said.
‘Not like Cecil to miss breakfast,’ Miss Mittens said. ‘He’s a good trencherman although you wouldn’t think it to look at him.’
They looked for him throughout the ground floor and then gave up.
‘He must have gone out,’ said Miss Mittens. ‘We’ll probably catch up with him at lunch.’
Etta couldn’t help a growing feeling of disquiet. She told herself not to be ridiculous but the thought kept coming back to her, there was a killer on the loose.
Cecil did not appear at lunch either.
‘It really is most annoying of Cecil not to let us know that he was going out and would not be back for lunch,’ Lady Mowbray said.
‘Typical of him,’ grunted his father.
But when Cecil did not turn up for dinner either, alarm bells began to ring.
‘Where can he be?’ fretted Lady Mowbray.
‘Damn rude, excuse my language ladies, of him not to tell us he would be out all day,’ growled his father.
‘Perhaps he told Cook where he was going?’ Lady Mowbray suggested.
Sir James turned to Mr. Cook who was standing by the dresser, supervising the serving of dinner.
‘Cook! Did Master Cecil tell you where he was going today?’ bellowed Sir James.
‘I regret that Master Cecil did not divulge his itinerary to me,’ said Mr. Cook with great dignity.
‘What about asking the police constable at the gate?’ suggested Miss Mittens.
‘Capital idea. Cook, send one of the footmen down to the front gate, after dinner mind, to ask the policeman if he’s seen Master Cecil. Now, lets enjoy and dinner and not worry about that reprobate.’
While they were taking coffee in the Drawing Room, Mr. Cook came in and told Sir James that the policeman had not seen Cecil Mowbray at all that day.
Miss Mittens drew close to Etta and murmured, ‘you must go and see the inspector tomorrow morning, Hetty and tell him what you told me.’
‘Ok,’ said Etta unenthusiastically. She was no longer a fan of Inspector Brighton and wanted to see as little of him or his horrible sergeant as possible.
‘You must,’ insisted Miss Mittens.
‘Mum, Cecil Mowbray’s missing,’ Etta said as soon as she was past her bedroom door.
Jen looked up from where she was lying on the bed. ‘Remind me again, which one he is?’
‘The second son.’
‘Ah, the little, skinny one.’
‘They’ve not seen him all day. Miss Mittens is getting worried.’
‘Well, it is about time for a second murder, ‘ Jen said casually.
Etta gasped. ‘A second murder?’
‘In this sort of novel, there’s usually a second murder about now,’ Jen informed her. ‘In fact, I’m a bit surprised that there hasn’t been one before.’
‘I don’t know how you can say that so calmly. It could be us getting murdered.’
‘I don’t think that’s likely,’ said Jen after a minute’s consideration. ‘We don’t know anything important about the murder.’
‘But Cecil does. He told me last night, bragged that he knew something that someone would pay a lot of money to hush up.’
Jen shook her head. ‘Typical murder victim.’
‘Mum!’
‘Callum told me he saw someone sneaking out through the back fence this morning. It might have been Cecil.’
‘Master Cecil,’ Etta said automatically.
The two women stared at each other.
‘Is the rest of that sentence, “to you”, Jen asked dangerously. ‘Because, if it is, you need to remember who you are. You’re not Hetty Ashcroft, you’re Etta Astley and don’t you forget it.’
‘It just slipped out,’ said Etta defensively.
‘It had better not slip out again.’
Etta tried to change the topic of conversation. ‘Miss Mittens thinks I should go to the police and tell them about what Cecil said to me.’
‘Good idea. Now, if you don’t mind, I’ll be going to bed. See you in the morning,’ Jen said coldly. She did not kiss Etta good night.
Mum was still cross about her faux pas, Etta realised. She had left her to undress herself. Well, she was a big girl and she was sure, she hoped that her mother would be in a better mood in the morning.
Jen caught Lily hovering on the backstairs at the start of one flight. She was holding on to the bannister and looking upwards with a frightened expression on her face.
‘What’s the matter, Lily?’ she asked. ‘Why haven’t you gone to bed?’
Lily’s face brightened as she greeted her. ‘Hello, miss, going to bed? I’ll walk up with you.’
AS they walked up the stairs, a sudden suspicion crossed Jen’s mind and she asked, ‘Lily, were you waiting for someone to walk up the stairs with you?’
Lily hesitated and then blurted out, ‘yes, I wanted Kate to walk up with me but she’s dawdling in the Servants’ Hall because John is there and she told me to go way and not bother her.’
‘Why don’t
you want to go up alone?’
‘Promise you won’t laugh miss?
‘I promise.’
‘I saw a ghost coming up the stairs the other day.’
‘A ghost? What did she look like?’
‘Miss, she looked like that American film star, the one that died,’ Lily said breathlessly. ‘I think that lady is haunting here.’
‘But Lily,’ Jen tried to reason with her, ‘why would she want to haunt the back stairs?’
‘I don’t know. All I know is that I saw her walking up the stairs to the attic. I was so scared, my heart nearly stopped.’ Lily looked beseechingly at her. ‘I’m telling the truth, honest to God, I am.’
‘I believe you.’ Jen though that Lily honestly believed she had seen a ghost. ’What was she wearing?’
‘She was wearing a white floaty thing and her fair hair was all down her back,’ Lily solemnly recounted.
Jen wondered how many times Lily would tell the story before the details became fixed. A thought struck her.
‘Lily, how many times have you seen her?’
‘Only once, miss.’
‘And when was it?’
‘Let me think. A few nights ago.’
Jen tried not to let the expression on her face change. ‘Listen to me, Lily, have you told anyone else about this?’
‘No, I tried to tell Kate but she wouldn’t listen.’
‘That’s good, it’s very important you don’t tell anyone else about this. Will you promise me that?’
‘Yes, miss but why?’
‘Because they’d only laugh at you. You don’t want that, do you?’
No miss.’
‘So you promise. Say after me, “I promise not to tell anyone else about the ghost.” Now you.’
‘I promise not to tell anyone else about the ghost,’ Lily repeated.
‘Good girl. I’ll tell you what, I’ll come in and sit with you till Kate comes up or until you fall asleep, how about that?’
‘Would you, miss? Oh thank you!’
Jen sat with her in her small attic bedroom until the girl fell asleep. She was tempted to go back down and tell Etta about this latest development but she was still annoyed with her and decided that it could wait until morning.
Murder and Mittens Page 23
