by Jack Murray
‘Well then, let’s say goodbye,’ said Agatha, keen to get everyone on their way and get herself back to bed, ‘Best of luck.’
Mary and Sam followed Alfred out to the Rolls.
‘Not the most inconspicuous,’ said Mary sardonically. “Do you know where we’re going?’
‘Yes, ma’am,’ replied Alfred, holding the door open for Mary.
The journey to Eaton Square was completed in a matter of minutes such was the eerie emptiness of the London streets. At Mary’s suggestion, Alfred parked the car alongside a large Bentley. This gave them an unobstructed view of the road ahead and the front door to Caroline Hadleigh’s town house with the added benefit of not looking entirely out of place.
It was nearly six and still night. Sam sat happily on Mary’s lap as they waited. At one point a policeman strolled by and stopped to look at the car. He rapped on Alfred’s window.
‘Is everything, all right?’ he asked looking at Sam and Mary in the back.
‘Yes, constable,’ replied Mary. ‘I’m just waiting for the rain to stop and then I’ll take my dog for a walk.’
‘Very good, madam. It’s an awful morning.’ The policeman seemed satisfied with this explanation and went on his way.
Alfred looked in the mirror at Mary, something he had spent a large part of the journey doing, much to her amusement.
‘Good thinking, ma’am.’
‘Thank you. I was being honest. What an awful day,’ replied Mary looking out at the rain falling steadily onto the pavement. As a rule, she loved the sound of rain. It was strangely therapeutic. However, the prospect of having to go out when it was so bad was about as appealing as a trip to the dentist.
In the distance, the booming notes of Big Ben indicated it was six o’clock in the morning. Mary idly wondered how people living near to the clock put up with the beastly sound.
And so, they waited. And waited some more. Sam fell asleep again. Mary looked down and envied him. She was beginning to worry this detective game was not as she had envisioned. Trailing master criminals, remarkable leaps of the imagination to connect the seemingly unconnected, and exciting shootouts seemed a million miles away from what she was doing at that moment.
At seven, Big Ben woke up Sam who looked around confusedly and began barking before remembering his attractive companion and standing on her lap pressing his face up to hers, perhaps in penitence at his over-reaction.
‘Ma’am, the door’s opening,’ said Alfred, pointing towards the house under observation.
Mary glanced away from Sam. A young woman emerged from the house dressed in a long light brown mackintosh and flat shoes. She wore a head scarf but there was no mistaking her for someone older. She was in her early twenties and, even from fifty yards, very attractive. A strand of blonde hair fell from the front of the scarf. She walked down the steps and away from the parked car.
‘What shall I do, ma’am?’ asked Alfred.
‘Let her walk to the end of the street. If she turns, drive forward but remain out of sight.’
They both waited and watched Caroline walk straight ahead. Mary said, ‘She might be heading in the direction of Sloane Square. When she reaches the next street move forward then park near to where she is now. I’ll take Sam for a walk at this point. There are quite a few small cafes up ahead. We can’t risk losing her.’
‘Very good,’ replied Alfred, and soon they were moving forward in the direction of Sloane Square. They stopped at the point Mary had suggested and she hopped out of the car with Sam.
The rain had stopped by now, but Mary was glad of her thick overcoat. It was very cold. Sam was wearing a stylish tweed coat but still seemed reluctant to walk in the decidedly chilly air.
‘You really are a bit lazy, aren’t you?’ laughed Mary. Sam seemed to grumble in reply. ‘I don’t think you can buy doggie earmuffs old boy.’
Ahead, Caroline Hadleigh had slowed down as she passed a few shops. Mary checked her pace and bent down on a couple of occasions to pet Sam. In fact, Mary was now grateful that Sam was a bit lazy. Trying to keep a hold of him if he’d gone tearing ahead would have presented a problem or two.
Her quarry was back on the move and heading, as Mary had surmised, towards Sloane Square. Finally, she appeared to reach her destination which was a large café that Mary recognised. Mary walked past the café and saw it was fairly full. This made it more difficult for her to enter as she had Sam and it was not clear if dogs were allowed. Mary turned and saw Alfred was some way behind, stuck in traffic. This was a dilemma.
Mary crossed over the road to avoid being seen. From this position she could still monitor the comings and goings from the café. Meanwhile Alfred was gradually getting closer. Frustratingly, it was difficult to see Caroline due to customers sitting by the window. Another look towards the car. It was still too far away to be able to deposit Sam. One or two people were leaving now. Not Caroline Hadleigh, however.
Finally, Alfred’s car was at a point where Mary could safely walk over and leave Sam while maintaining an eye on the café. She attracted Alfred’s attention and motioned for him to pull over. Picking Sam up she jogged across the road between cars to Alfred.
Opening the rear passenger door, she dropped Sam into the back and instructed Alfred to wait. Closing the door, she made her way quickly to the café and entered.
There was no sign of Caroline Hadleigh.
Mary was shocked. Then she reasoned that she may have gone to the bathroom. Attracting the attention of a waitress she ordered a tea and then explained she needed to visit the cloakroom.
On her way there, a couple of women went past her, but neither were of interest. Once inside the bathroom the alarming fact dawned on her. Caroline Hadleigh was not there. She’d given Mary the slip.
-
Agatha and Betty looked at each other and then back to Mary. Kit’s aunt asked the two questions on everyone’s mind.
‘How did she do it? And more importantly, why? Was she aware she was being followed?’
‘There’s absolutely no chance you could’ve missed her when you were putting Sam into the car?’ added Betty.
‘None. My eyes barely left the café for a second. Furthermore, where would she have gone except further down the street? It would’ve been impossible not to see her.’
‘Was she carrying a large bag?’ asked Agatha.
‘Yes, I was wondering about that afterwards. It could’ve contained a change of clothes because it was certainly a large enough bag.’
‘This is very interesting,’ said Agatha, ‘And it definitely puts a new complexion on the case.’
Betty’s eyes lit up and she said, ‘Well, in that case I may have something else that will interest you. I did some digging into Miss Hadleigh and I found out from an acquaintance that she was expelled from one of her schools when she was in her teens.’
‘Do you know why?’ asked Agatha.
The smile on Betty’s face grew wider and she leaned forward, ‘Stealing.’
The room grew silent as the three ladies considered the implications of Betty’s revelation. Finally, Agatha gave voice to the thought shared by everyone.
‘A kleptomaniac?’
‘Very possibly,’ replied Betty. ‘Now, having heard about Miss Hadleigh this morning, I think we have enough evidence to continue our surveillance.’
‘But how?’ asked Mary.
‘I have an idea,’ responded Betty.
‘Go on,’ said the other two ladies in unison.
‘You and I shall return to Eaton Square, Agatha, and spend the rest of the afternoon there to await Miss Hadleigh’s return.’
Agatha looked at Mary and said, ‘Good idea, but how do we go there and where do we wait? We’ll need the car and Alfred’s away to his film studio. I don’t know about you dear, but I for one don’t fancy standing outside in the cold. Quite apart from this, it would look distinctly odd.’
‘I can drive,’ suggested Betty brightly. ‘I’ve driven cars before.’<
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‘No harm to you, my dear, but a Rolls Royce isn’t any car,’ pointed out Agatha, ‘Even I am wary of driving it.’ Mary smiled at the two elderly drivers, but she also felt proud of them.
‘Nonsense. I’m sure we’ll manage,’ replied Betty, oblivious to the undisguised scepticism of her two companions.
‘What shall I do in the meantime?’ asked Mary, not sure whether to be amused or alarmed at the prospect of the elderly Betty negotiating London traffic in a Rolls Royce.
‘Stick to your plans with Christopher for the moment. There’s no point raising any suspicion. Your fiancé, unlike most of the male sex, is no fool.’
-
The Ritz dining room was humming with activity. All around Kit and Mary, the serving staff machine purred with efficiency. Rich people eating even richer food in sumptuous surroundings.
‘Are you sure you don’t want a sweet?’ asked Kit looking down at the space on the table where Mary’s dessert should have been.
‘Would you have me like one of those ladies that Rubens, or his assistants, liked to paint?’ responded Mary, with a mock frown.
‘No, I rather like you as you are. Your discipline is to be admired. In fact, I rather look forward to spending many a happy hour admiring the results of your discipline,’ said Kit tucking into his dessert with relish. This proved too much for the Spartan warrior in front of him, and she deftly removed the spoon from Kit’s hand and tried some for herself.
‘Not bad,’ said Mary, handing back the spoon and wiping some cream from the side of her mouth with her finger in a way that made Kit consider seriously booking a room there and then.
The momentary and blissful distraction over, Kit asked Mary, ‘How about we skip the Royal Academy today and head over Whitehall direction?’
Mary brightened at this idea, ‘The London Conference. Can we enter?’
‘We might be able to see some of the stir. I doubt they’ll allow us into the committee rooms though.’
Miller collected the couple on Piccadilly and Kit told him of the change in plan.
‘Very good, sir.’
A few minutes later Miller dropped them off on Whitehall. They walked towards a building where a small crowd was assembled. There were policemen standing outside the building watching the various groups. A handful of men and women were holding up banners demanding Kurdish independence. A small group nearby had similar placards related to a Jewish homeland. Dark-suited men of varying nationality entered and exited from the building straight into waiting cars. The level of security seemed somewhat disproportionate to the threat suggested Mary. Kit smiled; recent events had shown him that danger could come from the least expected places.
‘Isn’t that your friend Spunky over there by the entrance?’ said Mary pointing towards the building.
‘Good Lord. So it is,’ said Kit, laughing. He started to wave hoping to attract Spunky’s attention. Eventually Mary walked over to a policeman and pointed to Spunky. The policeman gladly obliged and went over to Kit’s friend.
‘I was just about to do that,’ said Kit.
‘Yes, I thought I’d save you the bother,’ replied Mary archly.
Spunky arrived with a delighted look on his face. Kit’s friend was tall, and certainly striking, with an eye patch in one eye, courtesy of the War and a monocle in the other. His features were completed by a pencil-thin moustache which made him look handsome, ridiculous, and brigand-like by turn. Not that Spunky cared a jot.
‘I say, bloodhound, this is a stroke. I was meaning to speak to you. Lady Mary, so good to see you,’ said Spunky, ‘May I kiss the bride-to-be?’
‘You may and while you’re at it you should tell your friend hurry before I become an old maid,’ pointed out Mary as Spunky, not waiting for a response, planted kisses on both cheeks, continental style.
‘Are they letting any of the general public in?’ asked Kit.
‘Certainly not,’ replied Spunky, ‘Come this way.’ Spunky led the couple up to the same policeman who had helped Mary and said a few words. Moments later Kit and Mary were through the cordon and standing on the steps of the building.
‘I don’t have a lot of time, Kit. Are you free tomorrow morning to pop over to Holland Park?’
Kit looked at Mary, who smiled and nodded. This surprised Kit, but Mary just shrugged innocently. Kit’s thoughts on why Mary was being so reasonable were interrupted by a commotion behind them. George Curzon, 1st Earl Curzon of Kedleston, former Viceroy of India and now the Foreign Secretary for His Majesty’s Government, was bounding down the steps with a face like thunder, one policeman in tow. He stopped briefly as he spotted Kit before thinking better of it and walking on.
Mary looked up at Kit, frowning, ‘Something else you neglected to tell me?’
‘Yes, forgot that bit,’ admitted Kit, grinning sheepishly like a schoolboy caught red-handed in the tuck shop. Changing the subject, he turned to Spunky and said, ‘Why are you here? I thought you left spying to the boys on the factory floor.’
‘I do, dear boy, I do. But as it’s on my doorstep, I thought I might pop along and see if I could pick up some useful titbits.’ Spunky had a genius for logistics and could turn talk of widgets into detailed analysis of the military-industrial economy. His interest in obtaining this information from primary sources, himself, was limited. He much preferred analysing the information obtained by others.
Kit smiled at his friend. The smile, Mary noted, seemed sympathetic rather than mocking. This was confirmed a moment later by Kit’s cryptic question.
‘Have you seen any old French friends?’
Spunky’s face seemed a little rueful for a moment, ‘No. Sadly, no sighting on that front.’ Mary stored this away for further inquiry later. ‘However, where one door closes another opens, so to speak. I’ve been up at Dawn a lot recently,’ continued Spunky, looking at Kit directly.
Mary detected the trace of a smile, or at least an attempt to hide a smile, on Kit’s face. Another question was heading her future husband’s way. A couple of minutes later, Spunky had to leave. Kit and Mary bid farewell and descended the steps.
‘What did you friend mean, up at Dawn a lot, by the way?’ asked Mary.
‘Early morning walks?’ responded Kit to her query, walking a few feet in front of Mary.
Mary speeded up to fall in step alongside him.
‘Look me in the eye, Lord Aston, and say that,’ said Mary laughing. By now Kit was laughing also.
Chapter 12
February 14th, 1920: London
Mary woke groaning as the five o’clock alarm blasted a rather pleasant dream involving Kit, a punt, and a secluded spot underneath a willow tree out of her head at an inopportune point in the narrative. She trooped blindly to the bathroom muttering words that were all too lady-like when men were not around to declare them unladylike.
Alfred was waiting downstairs twenty minutes later looking, if it were possible, even more bleary-eyed. Agatha was pippedness personified in a hideous patchwork dressing gown and hairnet.
‘Come on then, get weaving,’ urged Agatha, as she saw Mary come down the stairs. Agatha and Betty reported the previous evening that Caroline Hadleigh had returned around four o’clock the previous afternoon, along with what they agreed was a bag large enough to contain a change of clothing. Both had come through their reconnaissance mission unscathed fortified by what Mary suspected was a significant amount of gin.
‘You’re more than welcome to take my place,’ said Mary, rubbing her eyes.
‘No time for prep school repartee,’ replied Agatha, ‘Come along now.’ Agatha hustled Mary and Alfred out of the house before closing the door, shaking her head, and saying, ‘Young people.’
At this point Fish appeared, also in a dressing gown.
‘Ah Fish,’ said Agatha, ‘A cup of tea would be wonderful.’
‘Very good, milady,’ replied the elderly man with as much spirit as he could muster.
-
Rather than stay
too long in one place, as they had done the previous morning, Mary ordered Alfred to park in a different location, confident that Caroline would probably follow a similar route. Around six thirty, a figure emerged from the front door. Mary used her opera binoculars to confirm it was Caroline Hadleigh. As expected, Caroline headed towards Sloane Square. This time, however, she was carrying a small suitcase rather than a bag.
Mary trailed behind in the car, only getting out as they neared the same café. The morning was bitterly cold but free from rain. Taking a risk, Mary followed right behind Caroline and took a seat with her back to her quarry. Acting on a suggestion from Betty, Mary was wearing a pair of reading glasses and a beret. As disguises went, it was just about one step removed from a false nose and moustache but there hadn’t been time for anything more elaborate.
She overheard Caroline order tea with toast. When the waitress came over, Mary did likewise. The order arrived quickly as the café was still not very full. Mary was able to keep an eye on Caroline using the reflection from the glass front. Outside was brighter now. Her earlier impression of Caroline as very attractive and of a similar age to herself was confirmed.
When Caroline finished her breakfast, she stood up and went to the counter to pay. Then she went down a small corridor to visit what Mary remembered was the bathroom. Mary leapt up and went to the counter to pay her bill.
The bill paid, Mary left the café and signalled to Alfred to make ready to pick her up. A minute or two after Mary had left, Caroline Hadleigh also exited the café. Only she wasn’t the same as the one who had entered. Gone was the blonde hair and light-coloured mackintosh. In its place was a dowdy, seemingly older woman with dark hair and a tweed overcoat. Mary would never have recognised the young woman were it not for one thing. The suitcase.
By now, Mary was in the car and able to observe Caroline unseen. The traffic was beginning to build, however. At one point they came to a standstill. Mary watched in frustration as Caroline began to edge ever further ahead. And then they realised the reason for the hold up. Two cars had collided up ahead. Mary could have screamed. Caroline was nearly out of sight.