Mystery by the Sea: An utterly addictive English cozy mystery (A Lady Eleanor Swift Mystery Book 5)

by Verity Bright

His words ran around Eleanor’s head. She imagined, as she’d done a thousand times before, her husband, hands tied, blindfolded, a line of armed men lining him up through their rifle sights. And then…

  ‘Why?’

  ‘You know why,’ he said curtly. ‘He was running guns to the other side.’

  ‘No,’ she snapped. ‘I don’t know. I’m fed up with lies and not knowing. Tell me what really happened in South Africa six years ago.’

  The man nodded. ‘And in exchange you tell me what really happened last night at the hotel between you and your husband, Lady Swift.’

  Eleanor frowned. ‘You seem to think that Hilary and I kept in touch, but you’re sorely mistaken.’

  ‘Perhaps. Perhaps not. Right?’

  ‘Look, Mister whatever your name is. Answer my questions, and I’ll answer yours. Deal?’

  The man ran his tongue down the inside of his cheek. ‘Deal.’

  Eleanor glanced at Clifford, who nodded discreetly to her, lowering the gun.

  ‘How was it that Hilary was still alive until… last night, if you were in charge of his execution all those years ago?’ she asked.

  He grinned, his stained teeth making her shudder. ‘Ah. I expected some soldiers in the line to guess but I knew they wouldn’t speak up, they’d learned long before to keep their mouths shut. But it went off so dandily, no one even suspected. All credit, Hilary played the dying man like a pro.’

  Eleanor felt her stomach tighten. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I mean, I switched the bullets for blanks in all the guns. Strapped some bags of pig’s blood to his chest. Job was a good one. Neat, huh?’

  ‘You saved Hilary’s life,’ she whispered.

  ‘Mmm.’ He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lit another one, inhaling slowly. The smoke swirled upwards and vanished into the darkness as he spoke. ‘Wish I never had. If I’d known what a double-crossing fake he was, I’d have grabbed a rifle loaded with the real thing myself and finished him off there and then. And it would have been a pleasure. I risked everything, and he knew that.’

  Clifford cleared his throat. ‘It must have been quite the carrot he offered you to disobey orders so comprehensively.’

  This brought a huge grin to the man’s lips. ‘It was the biggest, best carrot ever! Your husband called me to the door of his cell the night before he was due to face the firing squad. Said he’d been framed.’ He scoffed again. ‘Like I believed that. Or cared. But he also told me he would give me something in exchange for saving his life.’

  ‘What did he promise to give you?’ Eleanor said.

  The man cocked his head at her. ‘See, now. I’d tell you, but you already know, don’t you? I’m thinking maybe you’re every bit as good at acting as he was when he fell to the dust, his chest covered in blood, groaning his last.’

  ‘Well, by your own admission, you’re not always the best judge of character,’ she said boldly, despite her pounding heart.

  ‘You too, girl.’ He ran his tongue over his bottom lip. ‘If you really had no idea what your husband was up to, that is.’

  ‘You believed he actually had whatever it was he promised you?’ Clifford asked.

  ‘Why wouldn’t I? He showed me a taster. And it was a beauty, alright.’ He threw the remains of his cigarette to the pier floor and left it smouldering. ‘Weren’t my idea. He suggested the deal. I was just an honest soldier looking forward to a pauper’s pension and nowhere to call home like most soldiers once their country’s got no use for them anymore. That wasn’t a future, that was a prison sentence.’

  Eleanor’s initial anger became tinged with pity. She’d seen, first in South Africa, and then in England, how swathes of soldiers returning from the war had been left to fend for themselves. But she still needed answers. It was obvious he wasn’t going to tell them what it was her husband had promised him in exchange for saving his life, so she switched tack.

  ‘But how did you get Hilary out after he pretended to have been shot?’

  ‘I helped my men load him on the meat wagon and stowed it in the usual lock-up. No one suspected anything. I returned at midnight, as arranged, for us to escape and finish our deal, but the swine had already made his own way out and scarpered.’ The man’s face blackened. ‘I swore that night I’d get what was rightfully mine. No one cheats me out of a deal. No one!’

  Eleanor instinctively took a step backwards. ‘So you’re saying you tracked him for six years and eventually traced him to the Grand Hotel in Brighton and then you killed him?’

  The man sighed in exasperation. ‘I already told you I didn’t. Sure I went to his room that night about eleven thirty, maybe five-and-twenty to twelve, but he was already dead, stabbed in the back.’ He looked at Eleanor and smiled evilly. ‘If I had killed him, mind, I’d have stabbed him in the back as well. After all, that’s what he did to me, the cheating swine! I searched the room, but with no luck.’ He pulled out another cigarette. ‘Anyway, lady detective, if it was me that killed him, why would I still be here?’

  Because you never got what you came for. That must be it, Ellie!

  The man’s tone became more menacing. ‘So now it’s your turn. Because when I found him dead, the room had already been searched. Good and proper too. I gave it another go, but what was mine, wasn’t there.’ He lit the cigarette and chewed on the end. ‘Maybe you killed him and took it? Stop playing around. Where is it?’

  ‘I really have no idea,’ Eleanor said coldly. ‘Hilary left me without a word. I was told he’d been shot and believed he was dead until I saw him on the stretcher when I arrived at the hotel. That’s the truth.’

  ‘Not very convincing. Unlike that faint you pulled.’ He shrugged. ‘Like it or not, Lady Swift-Eden, we both want the same thing.’

  She held his stare. ‘I doubt that very much. I want justice for my dead husband and you… you want to rob him!’

  He threw the cigarette down and ground it out with his heel. ‘Whatever you want to call it, if anyone crosses me and I don’t get what I want, there’s going to be another murder.’ He stepped backwards and was swallowed up by the darkness.

  Six

  After a fitful night’s sleep and an even more fitful attempt at breakfasting, Eleanor was relieved to head to the train station to meet the ladies coming from Henley Hall. A vast arched glass canopy rose close to seventy feet above the bustle of the platforms. The clipped accents of first-class passengers in smart suits and dresses mingled with the coarse tones of third-class passengers dressed in their simple Sunday best.

  Despite clouds of steam engulfing the platform as the express from London pulled in, she and Clifford soon spotted the ladies hanging out of the windows, shouting excitedly. Gladstone, recognising their voices, woofed and spun in wobbly circles on the end of his lead.

  ‘Oh, my lady. What a trip we’ve enjoyed,’ Mrs Butters called out as she walked gingerly down the carriage steps. ‘It’s a good thing you didn’t have to witness Trotters being a total rascal, chattering on with the handsome gentleman in the seat opposite. Wouldn’t take no for an answer, neither.’

  Mrs Trotman appeared at the housekeeper’s elbow. ‘A man needs a bit of meat on him,’ she said, a mischievous grin on her face. ‘Can’t abide a man who’s all skin and bones.’ She beckoned to Polly who skipped over to join them, a small wicker basket in each hand.

  Clifford cleared his throat. ‘I do apologise, my lady. It appears our ladies have been abducted en route and replaced with a troublesome pack of schoolgirls. Shall I have them sent straight back to the Hall?’

  Eleanor smiled and shook her head. ‘Take no notice, ladies. I promised you all a holiday, and that is precisely what you shall have! Besides, I’ve already won our bet. Clifford has eaten a stick of rock – well, he almost ate it – and he’s agreed to ride a donkey!’

  Mrs Trotman chuckled. ‘Well, blow me down, that will be a sight, alright. If I’d known, my lady, I’d have asked your permission to bring your late uncle’s camera so we migh
t capture it to remember on the long winter nights.’

  Clifford shook his head, but his eyes were twinkling as the corners of his lips twitched. ‘In hindsight, my lady, I shall personally write to the railway board on your behalf, apologising for the behaviour of three of their passengers this afternoon. Goodness knows what the other passengers have had to put up with.’

  Eleanor smiled at her staff. They were the perfect antidote to all the unpleasant business regarding her husband. In fact, she and Clifford had agreed they would keep the news from the ladies so as not to spoil their well-deserved holiday. The hotel manager had also requested the police keep the news quiet to preserve the establishment’s reputation. Even the unsympathetic Inspector Grimsdale had let slip that the Mayor of Brighton had made it very clear nothing was to jeopardise the start of the Easter season, which started in three weeks’ time.

  Eleanor gave her maid a questioning look as the young girl stood excitedly opening and closing her mouth. ‘What is it, Polly?’

  She looked to Clifford for permission to speak. He nodded.

  ‘I’ve never been on holiday afore, your ladyship. Nor been on a train. ’Tis so exciting, I could burst! Thank you so much, your ladyship.’

  ‘It is my absolute pleasure, Polly.’ And she meant it. The fifteen-year-old was more than just a maid to Eleanor. Her uncle had taken on Polly when she was a twelve-year-old orphan, long before Eleanor came to the Hall. After Eleanor and Clifford had solved a series of murders the year before and sent the guilty party to the insane asylum, she’d learned the culprit was in fact Polly’s real mother. Even though there was nothing else she could have done, from then on, Eleanor felt a special responsibility for the girl’s welfare.

  She turned to take in all of her staff. ‘And not just you, Polly. It’s a pleasure to have all of you here. I mean it wholeheartedly when I say that you are all a very welcome sight for my sore eyes.’

  The last sentence came out with more force than Eleanor had intended. Mrs Butters looked at her askance, but Polly saved Eleanor from having to answer any awkward questions.

  ‘That’ll be the salt in the sea, your ladyship. Mrs Trotman said we’re all to be sure to swish our eyes several times a day to save them from getting sore.’

  Eleanor wished with all her heart it was appropriate to draw this sweet young girl into a hug. Instead she nodded and smiled. ‘Silly me. Thank you for the reminder, Polly.’

  Eleanor looked down at the baskets in the young girl’s hands. ‘Oh gracious though, perhaps we’d better change our plans? Clifford and I thought you might like to start your holiday with proper seaside fish and chips in the café opposite the entrance to the pier. But you’re probably full from your picnic?’

  Polly clapped her hands as her cook and housekeeper both vigorously shook their heads.

  Eleanor pointed in the direction of the pier. ‘Fish and chips ahoy then!’

  Eleanor and the ladies were soon settled into a table in the simple, but sparklingly clean, café. Clifford joined them a few minutes later after having arranged for Eleanor’s extra luggage to be sent to the Grand and the rest of the bags to the ladies’ boarding house a few streets away.

  As the easy chatter flowed, Eleanor felt the stress from yesterday die away. Even Gladstone behaved himself, as least as much as could be expected for a dog who had long ago decided he was too old to be told off. Satisfied with a few chips under the table, he slipped into a deep doze and began to snore loudly under the red-and-white gingham tablecloth.

  The freshly caught haddock in golden batter and the accompanying hand-chipped potatoes were soon devoured. Mrs Trotman surveyed Eleanor’s empty plate.

  ‘Seeing as how you enjoyed it so much, my lady, perhaps I should add this to the monthly menu?’

  She nodded enthusiastically. ‘Absolutely, Mrs Trotman, but you shouldn’t be thinking of work, you’re on holiday.’ She looked from her cook to her housekeeper. ‘What have you all got planned for this afternoon?’

  ‘Whatever you need first, my lady,’ Mrs Butters said, scanning Eleanor’s face.

  ‘Ah!’ She paused so the waiters could clear their empty plates and replace them with treacle sponge pudding and custard. ‘Then your afternoon begins as soon as you have eaten up because I am completely need free, thank you.’

  Dessert was followed by pots of tea. While Clifford settled the bill at the counter and Mrs Trotman and Polly excused themselves, Mrs Butters slid up to Eleanor.

  ‘My lady, I fear something is bothering you. And ’tis no good shaking your head, your face always gives you away to me.’

  Eleanor patted her housekeeper’s hand. ‘Really, I’m fine, thank you. There have just been a lot of events in recent… weeks.’

  ‘Tell you what,’ Mrs Butters said lifting the tablecloth. ‘How about the three of us take Mr Wilful under here with us? That’d leave you and Mr Clifford free to do as you please. And’ – she nodded towards Polly who was now staring excitedly out of the window – ‘we’ll never drag young Polly off the beach afore nightfall, she’s been talking about nothing else but playing in the sand and watching the Punch and Judy show.’

  Eleanor smiled. ‘That would be perfect, thank you. We will come and collect him from the boarding house later, if that will be alright?’

  ‘Oh, don’t you bother about when. My friend who runs it can’t wait to meet him, having heard all my tales about his naughtiness. And besides’ – she cast a concerned look over Eleanor again – ‘I have a feeling, my lady, you might have other things on your mind.’

  Seven

  Outside, Eleanor waved off the ladies and then turned to Clifford. ‘Please do also go and indulge in whatever Brighton has to offer. I could meet you later for dinner, perhaps?’

  He gave his customary half bow. ‘Thank you, my lady. I rather fancied browsing through that famous part of Brighton known as “The Lanes” where several silk scarf shops are known to reside.’

  Silk scarves were one of Eleanor’s weaknesses. She owned far too many, but couldn’t stop buying more.

  ‘Fibber. I can’t think of anything you’d probably enjoy less. So thank you for such a generous offer, but I will be fine.’

  ‘And I will be too, if I know you are safe, my lady. We met a most untrustworthy character last night who may be responsible for the unfortunate death at the Grand, despite his protestations.’

  She shook her head. ‘I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, I used to think I was the most stubborn person imaginable, but I think you might actually trump me. And, thank you, but if you are to accompany me, and discuss the events at the hotel, let’s agree you call my husband Mr Eden? “That man” or “the body” sounds so… cold.’

  He nodded. ‘Agreed, my lady.’

  As they strolled towards Brighton’s maze of quaint, cobbled shopping lanes, Eleanor considered the conversation they’d had with the man on the pier.

  ‘Neither of us were very sure what to think last night, were we?’ she asked, hoping Clifford had received some magic insight overnight.

  ‘Regrettably not. Any fabrication on his part was seamlessly delivered, I felt.’ He glanced at her. ‘He did mention that Mr Eden had spoken of you? Perhaps that brought you a modicum of comfort?’

  She’d had that exact thought run round her brain all night. ‘A little, although I’m sure the man on the pier would have said anything to get what he wanted. All we really learned for certain was that Hilary has been alive and well somewhere all these years, but he never contacted me.’

  ‘True, but we have been living through troublesome times. With so many displaced, and worse, during and after the war, tracing anyone is an almost impossible task.’

  She nodded, something tugging at her brain. The fog of churning emotions in her head, however, refused to clear into anything she could make sense of.

  Clifford coughed softly. ‘Closure sometimes arrives in an unexpected form, my lady. If you have changed your mind, we can abandon our efforts to find th
e truth and hope Inspector Grimsdale catches the culprit.’

  She stopped and turned to him. ‘And if he doesn’t? Besides, you’re right. Hilary was an adult and made his choices. I know you doubt it sometimes, but I’m an adult too. I can make my choices, just as he did.’ She started walking again. ‘And I choose to find out the truth once and for all.’

  ‘Spoken like your late uncle, if I may say so.’

  That meant a lot to her. Heartened, she continued, ‘Let’s assume for a moment that the man on the pier wasn’t lying, and he didn’t kill Hilary and Hilary really did double-cross him. It would seem highly likely in that case that Hilary repeated his less than honourable behaviour with someone else and that person murdered him?’

  ‘My summation also, my lady, if you will forgive my character assassination of Mr Eden without ever having had the opportunity to meet him?’

  As they turned under an arch into the first of the back streets, Eleanor had a strange feeling. ‘I have the distinct impression that—’

  They both flattened themselves against the arch’s brickwork as a car screeched alongside. A tall man in a black mask jumped out, waving a pistol.

  ‘Get in!’ he snarled, grabbing Eleanor’s arm.

  She stared at Clifford, who nodded.

  Eleanor didn’t resist as she was shoved into the front seat, where she came face to face with the unexpected sight of a masked driver perched on a cushion. The first man bundled Clifford into the back seat.

  ‘Go! GO!’

  The car lurched forward and then stalled. The driver cursed. Clifford cleared his throat.

  ‘Three things strike me as peculiar in your most unexpected offer of a lift.’

  ‘Yeah, well, something else’ll strike you between the eyes if you don’t pipe down,’ the man with the gun growled.

  ‘One question though?’ Clifford persisted.

  ‘Shut it.’

  ‘Two men in masks?’

  ‘Are you deaf?’ the man shouted. ‘Keep quiet or else.’ He leaned forward to the driver. ‘What the hell are you doing? Get going!’