Tess looked downcast. “’Ere, I didn’t mean to get him into trouble. He were happy to help.”
“Oh, I have no doubt he was most eager.” Daniel gave her a pointed look. “All the same.”
Tess scowled, but nodded. “I’ll tell ’im.”
I curled my hands on the table. “I’ve become very, very anxious for Mr. Li. Perhaps one of the two ladies—or both of them—were talking of plans to rob Lady Harkness when Mr. Li arrived for his appointment with Sir Jacob, and he heard them. Part of the plot may have been to kill Sir Jacob so they could more easily go through his things. Or perhaps . . .” I grew more thoughtful. “Sir Jacob learned that the two women were trying to siphon everything from his wife and confronted them, and they killed him. If Mr. Li heard anything of this, the ladies would want to find him and silence him too. If they could murder robust Sir Jacob, they’d have no trouble with Mr. Li. Mrs. Tatlock is quite wiry.”
“Damnation.” The explosion came from Mr. Thanos, who immediately looked contrite. “I do beg your pardon, ladies. But I’ve just thought—if Mr. Li heard plotting when he turned up to visit, so did Sutherland. He might be in danger, and at this moment, he’s happily lecturing to a crowd at a museum.”
“I doubt this killer will throw a knife at him in front of an audience,” Daniel said, raising a calming hand. “He or she likes secrecy. But I take your point. He will have to come off the podium at some time.”
Mr. Thanos leapt to his feet. “I must go.” He glanced at Lady Cynthia, his brow furrowed. “Er, would you . . . That is . . . Perhaps . . . ?”
“I believe he’s asking you to accompany him, Cyn,” Bobby said, merriment in her eyes.
Cynthia flushed. I remembered what she’d told me about losing her nerve at appearing before Thanos’s friends in her men’s clothing.
“Perhaps Professor Sutherland will understand,” I suggested, with a pointed look at Cynthia’s suit.
“Eh?” Mr. Thanos blinked at me then Cynthia, who’d unfolded herself from the chair. “Yes, Sutherland understands about all that. I’ve told him about you. He wants to meet you.”
Cynthia’s flush deepened. “Wants a look at an oddity, does he?”
“Pardon? No, indeed. Sutherland is a rather open-minded man. He finds you refreshing.” Mr. Thanos grew as red as Cynthia. “Not that I speak of you at length. Please don’t misunderstand.” He began to splutter.
“For God’s sake, Elgin,” Daniel said, having risen when Cynthia did. “Argue about it on the way. Stand watch over the man until we can decide whether he is in danger.”
Mr. Thanos cleared his throat, wound his hands together, and glanced nervously at his hat hanging near the door.
Cynthia put an end to the debate. “Come on, Thanos. This is no time for us to prevaricate. I will give your friend a chance, and if we have to save his life to do it, so be it.”
She seized her hat and Mr. Thanos’s as well, thrusting it at him as she led the way out.
Bobby, still in her chair, applauded as they went. We heard the door slam below. “Poor things. Do you think they’ll realize it one day?”
I was pleased to see her interest in the dance between Cynthia and Mr. Thanos. Cynthia had been unhappy she’d hurt Bobby when she’d turned aside Bobby’s amorousness. However, Bobby seemed to have reconciled herself to the fact that she and Cynthia would never be anything more than friends.
I got to my feet. “Thank you for your hospitality, my lady.”
“Not at all. Great fun. Can I help look for the missing chappies? Besides the valet, I mean. Already have inquiries going about him.” Bobby had a robust energy that went with her rather masculine face, the sharpness of it emphasized by her cropped hair. “What about this Chinese bloke? Where do you begin the hunt for a Chinaman? Chinatown, presumably.”
“Which will be my lookout,” Daniel said quickly. “I know my way around there.”
He sent me a quelling glance, as though he expected I’d leap on a train and take myself on an instant to Limehouse.
Truth to tell, I wanted to. I was very worried about Mr. Li. But I decided to let Daniel have his way, while I returned to Mount Street to begin the search a little closer to home.
* * *
• • •
It was still Tess’s day out, and I determined she’d have it, so upon arriving home I scrambled to prepare the evening meal on my own. Mr. Davis said nothing about my absence, greeting me serenely and going about his business. Neither did he speak about Mrs. Daley, to my relief. The lady did not appear to be in the house at all, but I did not have time to inquire where she’d gone.
Friday suppers were not as involved as those on Sundays, but I prided myself on not simply slapping down cold meat left over from earlier in the week and having done.
I thought about the noodle dish I had tasted in Covent Garden and spent a little time trying to replicate it—not to serve upstairs but to taste for myself. I gave the Bywaters roasted pork with a sauce of apples, brown sugar, and cloves; mashed potatoes; and a salad of greens and walnuts. I’d found some good damsons, plump and purple, in the market, and sent up a bowl of those, dusted with sugar, for pudding.
The noodles, from what I remembered, had a soupy sauce containing finely diced chicken, a bit of ginger and garlic, and a few more complex flavors. The young man had told me fish “essence,” star anise, and peppers. The peppers had been red, possibly something like cayenne.
I decided that the dark, salty flavor I’d tasted had come from soy. It was difficult to find a good sauce of soy that hadn’t been watered down, oversalted, or treated with molasses to make it darker, but I had one or two merchants in mind whom I could trust for imported foods.
I put together an indifferent copy of the noodles, which was not terrible, but it wasn’t the same. I’d have to visit a Chinese market and see if I could find better ingredients. Perhaps when we found Mr. Li—if we did, and he was alive and well—he could advise me.
I busied myself to keep my worry about Mr. Li at bay. It was true that any of the household, including Mr. Chancellor, could have heard or seen what they should not and be in danger. Daniel was right to say James should have nothing more to do with it, and I would tell Tess the same. She’d run off to look in on her brother after we departed from Bobby’s flat, so I at least hoped she wouldn’t be investigating today.
I chafed at my confinement in the kitchen, but cooking is tedious and time-consuming work if it is to be done well. Even boiling an egg takes a certain skill.
Tess returned in time to eat supper with the staff. She looked relaxed and refreshed from her day out and helped me finish off my noodles, remarking in surprise that she liked them.
Lady Cynthia had not returned home by the time I went to bed, and I heard nothing from Daniel. I hoped I would not have to worry about them as well.
Saturday dawned, and that morning Mr. Davis declared he’d take his day out.
I regarded him in astonishment as I sautéed onions and leftover peppers to go into omelets. “You never take a day out, Mr. Davis.”
“Well, I will today.” He’d dressed in a dark suit and overcoat and now pressed a bowler hat to his head. “I will return in time to serve the evening meal. Good morning, Mrs. Holloway.”
Tess, Elsie, Charlie, and I all stared at him as he walked out of the kitchen and lightly up the outside stairs to the street.
“He’s an odd one, to be sure,” Tess said. I did not respond, but I wondered very much.
Tess said little about what she’d done the day before, except to report happily that her brother was well. Neither of us mentioned Mr. Li, Sir Jacob, the murder, or anything of that nature.
I did not have time to, in any case. I had to direct the maids and footmen in their duties as no one knew what had become of Mrs. Daley.
Truth to tell, the house felt lighter without her in it. The ma
ids were less harried, the footmen joking and laughing—they exhibited more high spirits than they ought to have, but I could not bring myself to admonish them.
The day proceeded as usual for a Saturday. Mr. Bywater departed for his club, and Paul the footman brought down a message that Mr. Bywater would dine there and not be home for supper. The master had spent much more time at his club lately, and I wondered if this was significant.
Not five minutes after Mrs. Bywater went out on her daily calls, Sara appeared and told me Cynthia had sent for me.
Cynthia wore a gentleman’s suit, but she’d not dressed to go out. She barged about the small sitting room in the rear of the house in beaded slippers that were incongruous with her trousers, waistcoat, and frock coat.
“There you are, Mrs. H. Auntie’s gone, and this confounded house is empty. Where is everyone?”
“Working away downstairs,” I said. “Pleased that Mrs. Daley is not here.”
Cynthia halted in midpace, and shot me a grin with a lightning-swift change of mood. “I persuaded Auntie to tell me why she won’t sack Mrs. Daley. I told her Mrs. D. is a bully and excellent at getting everyone but herself to do work, and that she needed to be sacked. Auntie agreed, to my surprise. Auntie’s friend, who’d had Mrs. Daley as a cook, is holding some sort of obligation over Auntie. She wouldn’t tell me what, no matter how much I prodded. But the bargain is, she takes the awful Mrs. Daley and Auntie’s friend considers the obligation fulfilled.”
“Is blackmail the fashion these days?” I asked sourly. “Mrs. Bywater is being coerced to employ Mrs. Daley, who in turn is trying to blackmail me about Grace’s existence, which she found out about by snooping at my old digs. She threatened Mr. Davis as well, though I’m not certain what she believes she has on him.”
“Oh, that.” Cynthia waved it aside, mirroring Mr. Davis’s reaction. “There was some talk of Mr. Davis and a footman, long, long ago. Mr. Davis says it’s all nonsense and a misinterpretation, and I believe him. If Mr. Davis was an unnatural, there’d be much more talk about him than that one incident. Men—don’t matter whether they prefer the female sex or the male—can’t help but be libertines. So if it did continue, he has been impossibly discreet.”
“Mr. Davis never shows much interest in women,” I said, thinking it through. “Men either, for that matter.”
Cynthia shrugged. “Some folks don’t have any interest one way or another. I’m not sure why that’s not called ‘unnatural’ instead of preferring one’s own sex. It’s hard to imagine not wanting anyone, ever.”
“Desires of the flesh can be wearying,” I said, rather envying those who had dispensed with them.
I’d once thought myself finished with passion forever. It was a distraction, and really, I had no time for it. Then Daniel McAdam had made a delivery to a kitchen, and the cocoon I’d woven around myself had begun to crack.
“I wouldn’t know how wearying they are,” Cynthia said, her mirth gone. “I’m not likely to know either, unless I marry one of the idiots Uncle parades before me. I can’t think of a greater deterrent to desire than those popinjays.”
I had to agree. “You did not invite me upstairs to talk about desire,” I said. “Although we can have that discussion if you like.”
“Ha. I am restless and need something to do. I meant to tell you about yesterday. Mr. Thanos and I rushed to Sutherland’s lecture at the British Museum, elbowed our way to the front, and stood watch. Absolutely no one tried to assassinate him, though a know-all did attempt to trip him up over a question on ancient China—in the Warring States period, I think it was. Sutherland skewered him. Metaphorically, of course. We escorted Sutherland home and told him why. He said he’d seen and heard nothing unusual the night he took Mr. Li to Sir Jacob’s, so he believes he’s perfectly safe, but he was concerned we’d lost Mr. Li.”
I twined my fingers together. “I have the terrible feeling that when we find Mr. Li, it will be awful. He’ll either be dead or a murderer.”
“Don’t give way, Mrs. H.” Cynthia gave my shoulder a pat. “We’ve been in tighter spots.”
“At great cost.” I recalled the explosion on the river between Devonshire and Cornwall, the calm viciousness of the criminal called Pilcher as he talked over how to kill us, and the horror of seeing James run down by a wagon.
“Inspector McGregor is scouring the metropolis for Mr. Li,” Cynthia said. “Thanos and I went to Mr. Li’s rooms and found constables all over the street looking for the man, and on watch in case he returns.”
“He will never return if constables are surrounding the place. Mr. Li is no fool.”
“Another reason not to worry too much about him,” Cynthia said, trying to comfort me. “He’s taken care of himself this long.”
That was true, but I no longer trusted my convictions.
“Thanos went to stay with Sutherland,” Cynthia went on. “He said that two spindly academics were better than one. Sutherland’s opinion is that Mr. Li went back to China once his existence became complicated by police and murders. He’s an important man in his circle and will be warmly welcomed home.”
I could hope Mr. Li was on his way home, and safe, but I knew in my heart he hadn’t departed these shores. He’d not leave England until he found out what had become of his father’s tea.
I’d thought very hard about what had become of the tea, and I believed I knew the answer, but I kept it to myself for now. I’d need Mr. Li to confirm it.
“Did you find Mr. Sutherland acceptable on this occasion?” I asked her. “The last time you saw him with Mr. Thanos, you rushed away. I am pleased you settled your mind.”
Cynthia looked abashed. “Don’t cast up my shortcomings to me, Mrs. H. I was understandably nervous. Thanos has always spoken highly of Mr. Sutherland, and if Sutherland didn’t like me . . .”
“But he did?”
Cynthia blew out a breath. “He seemed to approve of my unconventionality. But he’s an oddity himself, he said, preferring the intellectual life to that of politics, or sport, or chasing money and women as gentlemen are supposed to. Even so . . .”
“Even so?”
She shrugged. “Mr. Thanos is curious about me and my ways, but in a friendly fashion. Mr. Sutherland was plenty friendly, but in a different way. As though he was curious about why I wore men’s clothing but not interested in me, if you understand what I mean.”
“A scholar through and through,” I suggested.
“Something like that. But he did not condemn me or embarrass Mr. Thanos, so all is well.”
I was happy to hear it.
Cynthia abruptly changed the subject. “Any word from McAdam?”
“Not a blessed one. Or James, though Tess says Mrs. Redfern is looking for him to run more errands for her. She likes him.”
“James is a good lad.” Cynthia stuck her hands into her pockets. “I haven’t heard from Bobby either. I suppose she’s enjoying herself.”
“She seems to have recovered from you not wishing to live with her,” I said.
“I do want to live with her, but we have it clear now on what terms. Bobby’s not the sentimental type, fortunately, so when I explained things to her, she was disappointed but happily turned her attentions elsewhere. I suspect she had her eye on the other lady the whole time, hedging her bets. I’m not sure whether to be offended or relieved.”
I did laugh this time. It felt good to laugh. “Relieved is the correct choice. You felt guilty for not being able to be what she wanted.”
“We’re still great friends—that’s the best thing. It’s good to have a friend, Mrs. H.”
I agreed. My friendship with Joanna Millburn was one of the joys of my life. I wanted to count Lady Cynthia as such a friend, though I knew it was not the way of the world for a cook to be great chums with an earl’s daughter.
Cynthia waved her hands. “I must go
out and do something or I’ll perish here. I’ll put on a frock and visit Lady Harkness. Make sure she’s well.”
“It’s good of you.”
“Poor woman has been through hell. I’ll let you know if anything interesting turns up.”
We let it go at that.
I returned below stairs, looked over the dough Tess had rolled out for a meat pie, and declared it well done. Pastry was difficult to master, but she was coming along. Tess looked pleased with my praise, and I left her to it to step next door myself.
Mrs. Finnegan was busy in her kitchen, also making pastry but for an apricot tart. At her insistence, I sampled some of the filling bubbling on the stove and advised her to put in much more sugar and maybe a touch of cinnamon. Then I turned to why I’d come.
“Mrs. Finnegan,” I began. “I believe I will need your help.”
20
By the time I returned home after my conference with Mrs. Finnegan, Daniel was there, delivering a heavy sack of flour I hadn’t ordered. I remembered my conversation with Cynthia about passion and deliberately turned to my work table to help Tess with the pies.
Daniel began to heave the sack off his shoulders. “Don’t set it there,” I said. “You’ll just have to move it again. Put it in the larder.”
He gave me a good-natured grin and hauled the bag through the kitchen and into the narrow passageway. “Whoops,” he said as he nearly ran down Emma on her way in. She flushed but did not look displeased.
When Daniel returned from the larder, he snatched up a piece of peppered beef ready for the pies and popped it into his mouth. “I love a good steak and kidney. Save me a slice, Tess. I know it’s useless to ask Mrs. Holloway.”
“Right you are,” Tess said with a wink.
“Why are you so cheery?” I asked him. “Did something happen?”
Daniel waited until Emma had gone and Elsie was clattering dishes in the scullery. “No, unfortunately. But I like to keep my spirits up.” He filched another piece of beef before I could stop him. “I’m sorry, Kat. I haven’t found Mr. Li.”
Death in Kew Gardens Page 21
