She burst into a storm of tears then and ran from the room.
Wilcox and Billings remained lost for words, both taken aback by Mrs Thornton's vitriolic outburst.
“Would you be needing me for anything else, Detective Sergeant Billings?” asked Wilcox finally, with eyes cast down.
“That will be all, Wilcox, thank you. I do need to speak to your mistress once more but I think I'll leave her to calm herself first.”
“It seems you could do with some calming yourself.”
Billings looked up in surprise.
“What do you mean?”
Wilcox gestured at Billings' left hand, in which the tremors had started up once again. Embarrassed, he quickly clenched his fist and hid it behind his back.
“The syringe is in your room,” Wilcox added with a sly smile. “On the floor, by your shoes. If you need me, I'll be in the morning room attending to Mrs Thornton.”
7. Bella's Game
Billings went back to his room. Mrs Thornton’s vitriolic outburst had left him shaken. He sank down on the bed, holding his head in his hands. His heart was racing and he was starting to feel nauseous. He stared longingly at his morphine kit on the floor. There was one ampoule left and he’d need that tonight. He wondered briefly whether he could maybe risk a sniff or two, but decided against it. He had to remain alert. He had to appear strong. That was the only way to fight them.
There was a knock on the door. With his foot Billings quickly pushed his apparatus under the bed.
“Yes?” he called.
The door creaked open and Bella stuck her head into the room.
“Oh, you're alone,” she said. “I thought there was someone in here with you.”
“I am quite alone, Miss Whitfield.”
“But I clearly heard you talking to someone. ‘That’s the only way to fight them,’ you said.”
Damn it, thought Billings. He was obviously thinking aloud again.
“What do you want?” he asked her brusquely.
“I've been instructed to persuade you to leave.”
“I won't go until I’m ready.”
“No, I know you won't, but I told Mrs Thornton I'd try.”
She walked into the room and started looking around her.
“My goodness, what a mess. You're not very tidy, are you?”
“No.”
“You must be a bachelor.”
“Was there anything in particular you wished to see me about, Miss Whitfield?” he asked gruffly.
“Nothing in particular, Detective Sergeant, no. But perhaps we could have a chat.”
“A chat?”
“You're the first new person I've met in a long time and you intrigue me.”
“I see. Well, there is something I've been meaning to ask you, Miss Whitfield.”
“Is there? Oh, how exciting! Should I sit down for this?”
“If you insist.”
“I think I must.”
She grabbed a chair, placed it in front of the bed and sat down.
“What is it, Detective Sergeant Billings? What did you want to ask me?”
“When I spoke to you yesterday, I asked you about Mrs Thornton's attitude towards Master Roger's gambling. You said that it was her fault things went as far as they did. What did you mean by that?”
Bella looked disappointed.
“Oh, you want to ask me about that? I was hoping we could chat about something other than Roger.”
“Why?”
“Why do you think? Because it upsets me.”
Billings could feel a trickle of sweat running down his forehead. He quickly turned away from Bella, took a handkerchief out of his breast pocket and wiped his face discreetly, hoping to evade her curiosity. But, alas, nothing could escape those cat-like eyes.
“Are you feeling indisposed, Detective Sergeant?” she enquired.
“I'm perfectly well, thank you, Miss Whitfield.”
“You don't look it. You're not falling ill, are you?”
“I said, I’m in good health. Now, will you answer my question?”
“What was that?”
“Why did you say that it was Mrs Thornton's fault things got as far as they did?”
“Actually, Mr Billings, I said something far more interesting than that yesterday. Something quite crucial, which you contrived to ignore completely.”
“What was that?”
“I mentioned someone I wasn't allowed to mention.”
“Who?”
“Mrs Thornton has forbidden me to talk about it. You will have to try and fish the information out of me.”
“This is not a parlour game, Miss Whitfield. This is a criminal investigation.”
“I am well aware of that, but I gave my word – I say, you're not running a fever, are you? You're trembling.”
“I told you, I’m in good health. Now, please will you answer my question?”
“Are these signs of frustration I’m seeing? Is that why you're trembling so? Is your investigation not going well?”
Billings sighed.
“I’m being tiresome, aren’t I?” Bella said, smiling smugly. “Well, it serves you right. You should have indulged me in my request for some conversation. Perhaps if we could have a trivial chat before we proceed with the formal interview it would satisfy my whim and then I'd be more inclined to cooperate. ”
“Very well, Miss Whitfield. What do you wish to chat about?”
“Why do you take morphine?”
Billings hesitated briefly, but decided there’d be no harm in answering this.
“I can’t sleep without it.”
“Have you always depended on it?”
“I started taking it seven years ago when I injured my back and I’ve depended on it ever since.”
“How did you injure your back?”
“I was chasing a burglar over Battersea Bridge when I fell. I was a constable at the time.”
“Did you catch the burglar?”
“Yes.”
“Have you always lived in London?”
“I was born in Madagascar.”
“Africa?”
“My parents were missionaries. They ran a school there.”
“How exciting!”
“Not really. I travelled a lot as a child. It made my childhood difficult and unsettled. I don't know where I belong now.”
“Whereas I haven't travelled at all. Yorkshire is all I know. And yet, I feel I understand you. I don't know where I belong either.”
“Do you feel you don't belong in this house, Miss Whitfield?”
“Well, of course I don't belong. You've heard how the servants gossip. They have nothing but contempt for me. Feel they're lowering themselves by attending to me, because by birth I'm the same as them. Yet whenever I go back to my father's house in the village, I'm treated not like a daughter but a visiting queen. My father wears a cravat whenever I come to call. A cravat! It looks absolutely ridiculous on him. And my very presence makes my mother tremble as she pours the tea.”
“What about Roger?”
“What about him?”
“Did you feel comfortable with him?”
“Yes, I did.”
“You said he was your window on to life.”
“He was. I never get out of this house. But he had his nightly escapades and I clung to every word he told me about them. That's why I became so obsessed with April.”
“April?”
Bella sat up with a look of surprise on her face.
“There!” she said. “You made me say it. You made me mention her name. Oh, you are clever, Mr Billings!”
“Who is April?”
“All this time I was wondering why Scotland Yard had sent you. You looked so clumsy and uncomfortable and anxious and shy. But I see now that it was all an act. A clever ploy to weaken my defences.”
“Who is April?” he repeated.
“April Threadgoode. Bill Parker's girl. Roger won her in a card game.”
�
��I thought he didn't accept her?”
“Oh, he did accept her, Mr Billings. Of course he accepted her. Roger would accept anything in order to continue playing. He just didn't know what to do with her afterwards. All he could talk about was his glorious victory over Parker. I remember him standing at my basin, splashing water on his face. He had just returned from The Old Boot, drunk as a lord, and it was ‘Parker this’ and ‘Parker that’, but not once did he mention the girl he had won.
“‘But what was she like?’ I kept asking.
“‘Oh, nothing special,’ answered Roger, drying his face with a towel. ‘Just another plump country girl. Not unattractive, though.’
“‘Well, then.’
“‘Well then, what?’
“‘If she's not unattractive then why won’t you take your winnings?’
“‘Because I only have eyes for you,’ he said with a cheeky smile, and proceeded to take off his shirt. He was always very free in his behaviour when he was in my room. Treated it as if it were his own and often forgot himself. Especially when he was drunk.
“‘What are you doing!’ I said, alarmed. ‘Put your shirt back on!’
“‘But it reeks of sweat and liquor.’
“‘You can't get undressed in my room, Roger Thornton! What if somebody were to see us!’
“‘Who'd see us in here at this time of night?’
“‘For heaven's sake, Roger, if you want to get undressed, go to your own room. You're being highly improper!’
“‘Improper? You want me to dishonour my friend's girl then accuse me of being improper!’
“‘Since when is Bill Parker a friend of yours? He despises you!’
“‘Oh, he's just envious. They're all envious of me.’
“‘He's playing you. He knows you wouldn't touch his girl. That's why he used her for a stake. He knew he had nothing to lose. But if he had won... well, do you think he would have hesitated for one moment? No, he’d have stripped you of everything you have.’
“‘That's because he’s a bitter man. Whereas I'm above all that.’
“‘Well, I'm not!’ I told Roger. ‘And it was my money you won her with so by rights April Threadgoode is mine, and I want you to take her!’”
There was a pause then as Bella suddenly realised what she had confessed.
“You think I’m wicked, don’t you, Mr Billings?” she said, hanging her head. “Well, all I can say in my defence is that boredom is a destructive force. I didn't care about the money, I was only looking for sensation. And I couldn’t stand the way Roger allowed himself to be manipulated by the likes of Bill Parker. After I’d told him what I thought he should do, Roger looked at me in the same way you’re looking at me now… with a mixture of disgust and incredulity. I felt ashamed, and cursed myself for allowing my own bitterness to take over. Luckily the frosty atmosphere was shattered when there was a loud bang outside my room.
“‘What was that?’ I cried. ‘There's someone out there!’
“I opened the door and found Gracie in the corridor, sitting on the floor.
“‘Gracie? What are you doing out here at this time of night?’ I whispered.
“‘I fell over, miss. I was just...’
“‘Shhh, you'll wake Mrs Thornton. Come in here.’
“I pulled her into the room and shut the door behind us.
“‘Now, tell me what you were doing out in the hallway at this time of night? Were you spying on us? Was that how you came to fall over?’ I pressed her.
“But she wasn’t listening. All the time I spoke she had been gaping open-mouthed at Roger, who was standing before us, stripped from the waist up, observing us both with an amused glint in his eyes.
“‘Master Roger has got his shirt off,’ said Gracie.
“Roger laughed at this, but I could not tolerate such a brazen remark from a servant.
“‘He's not Master Roger any longer,’ I told her angrily. ‘He's to be addressed as Mr Thornton by you! And he was only changing his shirt because it was dirty.’
“Gracie gave no sign that she had even noticed the rebuke. ‘He looks like a bull we had on the farm once,’ she continued in her dreamy fashion.
“‘Are you comparing Mr Thornton to a bull?’
“‘He were just as shiny and rippling as Master Roger.’
“She stood up and walked towards him. It seemed she was about to reach out and caress his bare arm when I slapped her hand away.
“‘Don't you dare touch Mr Thornton, you insolent woman!’
“‘But I only wanted to see how smooth his skin was,’ she said, offended, looking directly at me for the first time since she had entered the room.
“‘Get out!’ I said, filled with rage. ‘Go back to your own room and stop loitering in the hallway!’ I pushed her out and locked the door. I glanced over my shoulder at Roger, who was still laughing.
“‘There is something decidedly odd about that maid,’ I said.
“‘I think she's comical.’
“‘Comical? It won’t be funny if she starts spreading gossip. I told you not to get undressed in my room!’
“‘Oh, you'll never be able to stop the servants from gossiping.’
“‘What was she doing loitering in the hallway?’ I asked him.
“‘She does that sometimes,’ Roger told me.
“‘What?’
“‘She peeps through keyholes. I've noticed her doing it before. Usually while I dress or bathe. She spies on me.’
“‘And you let her?’
“‘Why not?’
“‘You continue to undress and bathe, knowing that she's out there spying on you?’
“‘What harm can it do?’
“‘Oh, Roger, how could you ever think I would marry a man like you? You're irresponsible and conceited… You squander my money… You let yourself be manipulated by the likes of Bill Parker… You have no sense of propriety or decency!’
“‘Bella, I don't understand why you're so upset,’ he told me.
“‘You expect everyone to love and adore you, while you yourself are unable to love and adore in return!’
“‘How can you say that? I love everyone. I haven't a selfish bone in my body.’
“‘Loving everyone and loving no one amounts to the same thing. You have to pick one person. You have to make one person feel special.’
“‘You're special to me!’
“‘If I am then you will go back to that tavern, talk to Parker and claim my winnings straight away.’
“‘Oh, is that what this is all about?’
“‘If you won’t go, I'll do it myself. I'll tell him it was my money you used in your wagers because you don't have any of your own! He'll laugh at you then. I expect he’s laughing at you already!’
“I could see he was reluctant to agree.
“‘Oh, Bella...’
“‘Get out of my room then! Go! I don't want to see your face again. You're a disgrace. There was a time when I was proud to have been taken into this household, but the Thornton family lost any claim to respect when your father passed away. I could never marry into such a disgraceful state of affairs. Never. Now, go.’
“I picked Roger’s shirt off the ground, pressed it into his hands and pushed him out of the door. I was furious. Incensed.”
Billings seemed bemused by such strength of feeling.
“But why were you so angry?” he asked gently.
Bella hung her head.
“I don’t know. Even I don’t always understand why I act the way I do. Perhaps I was jealous.”
“Of April Threadgoode?”
“Of April, of Bill Parker, of Gracie, of Roger… of anyone who had a life outside this house! But all this sounds like an excuse for my own behaviour and I do not wish to sink to that. I only want to help you with your investigation.” She lifted her gaze and looked straight at Billings. “You are seeking the person responsible for Roger's death. Well, here I am. Gracie had nothing to do with it. You
should let the poor soul go. If anybody should be punished for his death, I should.”
“In what way were you responsible?”
“Don't you understand? He went back! He went back to the tavern and…” Bella burst into tears and buried her head in her hands. “I'm sorry,” she sobbed. “I can't talk to you any more!” For the second time that morning a weeping woman rushed from the room, leaving Billings to his deductions.
8. How Death Took a Lover
The detective paced up and down the corridor, pondering his next move. Bella and Mrs Thornton had locked themselves in their rooms. Wilcox was sulking in his parlour. Only Martha was at work, he deduced, from the clattering of pans in the kitchen. These past two days had taken their toll on him. He was having to clasp his hands firmly behind his back to stop them from trembling visibly, and must remain in motion to stop his guts from knotting up. Hence the pacing. Oh, how he longed for sundown. Tomorrow he’d be going home, he was determined on that. Away from this eerie silence, back to the horses and carriages and the hustling masses of London. But before he could do that he needed to get to the bottom of this confounded case. Would his colleagues really laugh at him if he concluded that Roger Thornton had walked out on to the moors in feverish delusion and frozen to death? Was that really so hard to believe?
“Hey! You there!”
Billings stopped and looked around. Martha was standing in the doorway of the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron.
“What’s tha walking up and down for? Art tha waiting for breakfast?”
“I’m sorry, I was thinking.”
“Well, stop thinking and come in here. I’ve made thee some gruel.”
“Thank you but I'm not hungry.”
“I don't care if tha aren't. Tha must eat. And tha must stop pacing up and down the blessed corridor! Tha’art driving me mad with tha pitter-patter!”
She disappeared back into the kitchen and Billings followed her in reluctantly.
A bowl of hot gruel stood waiting for him on the kitchen table.
Death Takes A Lover (DS Billings Victorian Mysteries) Page 7