The Forgotten Children

by Anita Davison

  ‘Surely that cannot be legal if the authorities have no idea where they are being taken and for what purpose?’ Flora demanded.

  ‘It’s complicated, Mrs Harrington.’ He cleared his throat before continuing. ‘In fact, until last year, unless there was specific proof of abuse, we had no powers.’

  ‘Last year?’ Flora asked, shocked. ‘You mean, taking children from their homes for some nefarious purpose wasn’t a crime?’

  Maddox ducked his head, embarrassed. ‘If a family came to an agreement with a third party to send their child away to work or live elsewhere, even if they took money for doing so, there wasn’t much the law could do about it.’

  ‘And what if one of those children were found dead in a ditch at a later date?’

  ‘Ah, now that would be a different crime altogether.’ He spread his hands out in front of him. ‘Murder is always murder.’

  ‘That’s outrageous,’ Flora muttered, the silence stretching as the weight of their combined thoughts mounted, broken only by clearing of throats and the ticking of a clock.

  ‘What about the death of Nurse Prentice?’ Flora asked after a moment. ‘She was the one who brought these children to Miss Finch’s notice.’

  Maddox nodded. ‘I’m acquainted with the Matron; a very intelligent woman. I’ve also spoken to Mr Raymond Buchanan, both about Nurse Prentice’s unfortunate accident and the Lomax girl. He mentioned nothing about other missing children.’

  ‘Miss Finch said he didn’t see any cause for concern,’ Flora said. ‘Though that doesn’t mean there shouldn’t be.’

  ‘I agree. Maybe a second visit could result in something I could take to my superintendent to expand the investigation. You are acquainted with Mr Buchanan?’

  ‘Only briefly.’ Flora hesitated, reluctant to expand on her theories. Apart from a vague feeling of unease, she had no proof the hospital governor knew anything. Perhaps that might change after that evening? ‘Miss Finch is also convinced Lizzie Prentice discovered something, but was killed before she could say anything.’

  ‘That Miss Prentice’s death was anything more than an accident hasn’t yet been established,’ Maddox said. ‘The inquest has been set for later this morning. As for what she may or may not have been about to impart to Miss Finch, I—’

  ‘I understand, Inspector,’ Flora waved him away. Evidently, she would get nowhere with that line of questioning. ‘However, Isobel Lomax was seen leaving the hospital with a stranger. Surely that changes things?’ Her sharp tone elicited another warning glance from Bunny.

  ‘Indeed it does, and as I said, we are pursuing a line of enquiry.’ He exchanged another angst-filled look with Bunny.

  Flora cleared her throat and waited for Maddox’s full attention, which came after a heartbeat. ‘Inspector, have you heard the name, Swifty Ellis?’

  Maddox’s eyes narrowed. ‘That name is known to us. Might I ask how you’ve heard it?’

  ‘Yes, do enlighten us.’ Bunny rose one sardonic eyebrow.

  ‘I’m sorry, Bunny, but you weren’t here, so I couldn’t explain. Sally and Abel Cain were in The Antigallican last night, and—’

  ‘That’s more my patch than yours, Mrs Harrington.’ A nerve beside Maddox’s left eye twitched, but he swallowed whatever he had been about to say next. ‘I doubt a character like Swifty Ellis has the nous required to traffic a group of children without someone knowing about it.’

  So the police did know him.

  Flora frowned, unsure what the word ‘nous’ meant and resolved to ask Sally later.

  ‘Go on with what you were saying, Mrs Harrington.’ The inspector removed his ubiquitous notebook and pen from an inside pocket and scribbled something.

  ‘Lizzie Prentice,’ Flora began, ‘worked at the same public house on occasion and just before she was killed, or died whichever you prefer, she had an argument with a woman in the kitchen there.’

  ‘My, you have been busy, Mrs Harrington.’ He raised his gaze from the page and regarded her steadily. ‘However, if I investigated every confrontation in a South London pub, I would have no time for anything else.’

  Flora suppressed a frustrated sigh at his patronizing tone. Didn’t he see that argument could have been important?

  ‘I’m sorry to disappoint you,’ Maddox said, catching her audible sigh. ‘And I’m aware you like to dabble in solving crimes, but—’

  ‘Dabble?’ Flora stiffened, knowing what was coming next. ‘You make it sound like a hobby. And so there is no misunderstanding, Inspector, I specialise in murders.’

  Bunny brought his fist to his mouth to cover a laugh, but ignoring him, Flora continued, ‘what about this Swifty Ellis?’ Had Bunny told Maddox about her and Lydia’s foray into Bermondsey the day before?

  ‘He’s more of a small-time crook who fences stolen goods,’ Maddox said. ‘He pretends to be mentally incompetent when questioned, so we rarely get much out of him, but he’s got a steady network of thugs who dare not defy him.’

  ‘Isn’t that contradictory?’ Flora asked, irritated. ‘On the one hand, he’s too simple-minded to be involved, then you say he has the acumen to run a successful team of crooks?’

  ‘Ah, yes I see your point.’ He gave Bunny a how-do-you-manage-her look which Bunny returned with a brief widening of his eyes.

  ‘I urge you to be very careful, Mrs Harrington.’ Maddox’s voice softened. ‘And keep away from Swifty Ellis. If he is involved, you can be sure he’s working for someone more powerful and better connected than he is.’

  ‘What about the man in the top hat who was seen with Isobel Lomax the day she disappeared?’ Flora asked, although she couldn’t help feeling that Maddox was indulging her for Bunny’s sake.

  ‘I’m afraid no other witnesses have come forward regarding that individual. Now if you’ll excuse me,’ Maddox slapped his knees and rose. ‘I had better get back to the station. However, I assure you that if there is a connection to these cases, I’ll find it. Good morning, Mrs Harrington. Mr Harrington.’

  Bunny handed Maddox over to Stokes, who showed him out, the sound of male voices in the hall cut off by the closing of the front door.

  ‘He thinks he’s got the nanny for the Isobel kidnapping and has no more idea than we do how to look for the others,’ she said.

  ‘Don’t be too sure,’ Bunny said, slowly. ‘He wasn’t as dismissive as you imagined.’

  Flora wasn’t convinced. ‘Anyway, thank you for persuading him to come here when you were supposed to be consorting with other lawyers over fine wine.’ She scooted along the wide sofa to make room for him. ‘And I apologize for annoying him when you went to all that trouble to get him here. Not that he told us anything we didn’t already know. Why does he have to be so formal?’

  ‘You underestimate him, Flora.’ Bunny plucked her hand from her lap and enfolded it in both of his. ‘He couldn’t tell us anything. Not officially. At the dinner last night he explained the police now have authority under the Human Trafficking Act to look for children believed to be at risk. He also has this Swifty Ellis character in his sights, which tells me they are doing far more than you assume.’

  ‘I suppose you could be right.’ Flora straightened. ‘Perhaps I’m so conscious of the fact he regards me as a meddling nuisance, I get very defensive with him.’

  ‘I had noticed.’ Bunny’s lips twitched. ‘However, I’m sure you’re quite wrong about his disliking you. He’s been more than complimentary about your past efforts.’

  ‘You surprise me, when he loses no opportunity to tell me when I get it wrong.’

  ‘That’s because you do tend to rush into situations without thinking. Look at it from his point of view. Having a civilian poking about in his cases could be embarrassing for him.’

  Flora shrugged. She wasn’t used to people taking such an active dislike to her, which made her uncomfortable. Only one other person treated her dismissively, but she had put Beatrice’s attitude down to jealousy. What did Inspector Maddox have to be je
alous about? Or did he feel threatened by her?’

  Bunny released her hand, giving it a final pat before he rose and poured himself a cup of coffee from a tray on the sideboard, that despite Flora’s refusal Stokes had delivered. ‘I hear you’re sending young Sally out to pubs to scout the local colour now eh? I hope you aren’t becoming a bad influence on her.’

  ‘Me?’ Flora threw him a sharp sideways look. ‘It’s more likely to be the other way around. She couldn’t wait to go, possibly because it meant an entire evening in Abel’s company.’ The fragrance of coffee from his cup nudged her senses. ‘Might I change my mind about that coffee? I could do with some.’

  ‘You haven’t had any breakfast either.’ Bunny set his cup and saucer on the table and obliged. ‘Maybe I could take you out for luncheon sometime this week?’ He set a cup in front of her, from which an enticing wisp of steam rose.

  ‘I would like that.’ She lifted the cup to her lips, inhaling the rich aroma before taking a sip. ‘And maybe you’re right and Maddox didn’t come here simply to oblige you in return for a good breakfast.’

  ‘Cynic.’ Bunny smiled. ‘I see him as more a sponge than a fountain, which makes for a good policeman. Give him a chance, he’ll work it all out.’

  ‘Is that your way of saying you want me to take a step back and let the professionals take over?’ She directed a hard look at him over the rim of her cup.

  ‘As if that would make any difference.’ He returned to the sofa, cup in hand, the cushion dipping as he lowered himself onto it. ‘But please be careful, my darling. I know how passionate you are about this affair, but the sort of people who do this sort of thing won’t think twice about putting a stop to any meddling on your part.’

  ‘Is that what you think I’m doing? Meddling?’ Her stomach rumbled, reminding her of her missed breakfast. ‘Maybe the case will become clearer if the coroner decides Lizzie was murdered.’ She caught his sideways look, adding, ‘That’s a horrible thing to hope for, isn’t it?’

  ‘Whatever you say about Lizzie cannot hurt her now. Now tell me again what Sally found out last night, and this time I want the long version.’

  Flora sipped her coffee, the strong taste an aid to her whirling thoughts as she recounted Abel’s conversation with the barman.

  ‘I agree, that argument could be important,’ Bunny conceded after Flora had shared her story in full. But even if you find this woman, I doubt she would admit to a confrontation with someone who died soon afterwards. By the way, when are you seeing Miss Finch again?’

  ‘I hope to see her this afternoon at Martell’s, although we’ve made no firm arrangement. Why?’

  ‘I acknowledge that you aren’t using this case purely to stay close to Miss Finch, it’s too important for that. But take care where she’s concerned, Flora, the likelihood of her being your mother is infinitesimal.’

  ‘I know, and I promise not to rely on that possibility too much, although I cannot help admiring her. If nothing else, I’ll have made a friend.’ She crossed the fingers of her other hand inside the folds of her skirt. The more she saw of Alice, the conviction they shared a connection became more real.

  ‘As long as you are prepared for disappointment.’ He ran his knuckles gently across her chin. ‘Now, I have some paperwork to do so I need to call into the office.’ Bunny returned his cup to the tray and made for the door. ‘I’ll be back in time to get ready for our supper party. A pity William isn’t available to join us. Did he drop any clues as to where he was going on this trip of his?’

  ‘No. I believe he made a point of not doing so.’ Renewed worry flooded through her at the mention of William’s name. That he had not confided his intended destination to Bunny either convinced her he had embarked on something secret, even dangerous. She twisted on the sofa, both arms crossed along the back. ‘Speaking of William, I—’

  ‘Yes?’ Bunny halted and turned back, peering at her over his glasses.

  Her words froze on her tongue as she experienced a glimpse of the future. There would come a time when he would look at her just like that, when his hair was no longer wheat gold but sparse and grey, the creases on his forehead had deepened and the lens of his spectacles were as thick as the base of a whisky glass.

  ‘What about him?’ Bunny frowned. ‘And why are you staring at me like that?’

  ‘Oh, nothing.’ Pushing down the sudden rapid thrum of her heart, she summoned a smile. ‘It can wait. I’ll see you this evening.’

  Chapter 18

  Martell’s tea shop was unusually busy that afternoon, but the waitress who had served Flora on previous occasions assured her there would always be a table for her. ‘Mr Martell insists we never turn you away, Mrs Harrington.’

  ‘How kind.’ Flora took the seat she indicated, located on a table with a panoramic view of the street through the bay window. From there she could observe the rest of the room; specifically a lone woman in an alcove in unrelieved black, who greeted every male patron with a wide smile but ignored the women. She reminded Flora of what Lydia had told her of a Piccadilly tea room that ran a house of ill repute on its upper floor.

  Flora’s private smile must have been taken as encouragement by Mr Martell, who bustled towards her with purpose in each step.

  ‘Ah, so we have the pleasure of your company yet again, ma chère madame.’ He held his right hand extended, bent at the wrist, his slight paunch straining an embroidered waistcoat, this one of peacock blue with green parrots. ‘Do you await the delightful Mees Grey, or perhaps Mees Feench will join you today?’

  ‘I’m both surprised and flattered that you should take such a personal interest in my activities, Mr Martell.’ Did the man keep notes? The Frenchman had always struck her as solicitous, but lately, his attentions had become cloying, even intrusive. Perhaps his days spent over teacups and cream cakes made him long for some more sophisticated society?

  ‘I like to theenk of myself as a good proprietor, dear lady with a keen interest in my patrons.’ His oily smile persisted. ‘I see you and the elegant ’ospital ladee have become firm friends since coming ’ere.’

  ‘We didn’t actually meet in your establishment,’ Flora replied, unwilling to give the man too much credit. ‘You are right, however, in that she’s an exceptional person. We find we have a great deal in common.’

  ‘I agree, she is charmante.’ He gave a theatrical sigh too contrived to be genuine. ‘What a tragedie about that poor nurse who was killed. Such things will do nothing for the hospital’s reputation.’

  ‘A tragedy indeed, but not one that could be put at Miss Finch’s door.’ Flora fidgeted, uncomfortable with the subject. ‘As far as I know, the nurse fell and hit her head.’

  ‘I did not seek to imply ozerwise.’ He blinked repeatedly, his eyes surrounded by wrinkles that put her in mind of a myopic turtle. ‘And yet that does not disappoint you, madame?’

  ‘I beg your pardon?’ Flora frowned up at him from beneath the rim of her hat. ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘Mais non? But are you not famous? Is not murder of special interest to the brave heroine who confronted the killer of Mademoiselle Evangeline Lange last year?’

  Taken off guard, Flora floundered for a response. He must have seen the report in the newspaper, though it struck her as indelicate to mention it. Alice was right, the man was an inveterate gossip.

  The harsh jangle of the doorbell distracted him. ‘Ah! Here is your companion, if I am not mistaken.’ He nodded to where Alice had entered the tea room.

  A crash of china brought the Frenchman’s attention to where a waitress had swept a plate of cakes onto the floor behind the counter. Martell gave a sharp, horrified cry and scurried away to castigate the mortified girl.

  ‘You arrived at exactly the right moment,’ Flora said as Alice joined her.

  ‘So I see.’ Alice swung her bag onto the table and took the chair opposite. She wore a beautifully cut ankle-length wool coat in a flattering shade of sage green that clung in all the ri
ght places. Her pert hat and the way everything matched made Flora hope that she would look as elegant and youthful as Alice when she reached her forties. And why shouldn’t she? Daughters often resembled their mothers, didn’t they?

  ‘Flora?’ Alice’s eyes widened in enquiry. ‘Did you hear what I said?’

  ‘Oh, sorry, I missed that.’ Distracted, she cast an oblique look at Mr Martell, who was still occupied with the distraught waitress.

  ‘I said, I haven’t been to the hospital today as I attended Lizzie Prentice’s inquest this morning.’

  ‘I had completely forgotten. How did it go?’ Flora waylaid a passing server and issued a request to replace their half-empty teapot.

  ‘Dr Samuel’s testimony was categorical, in that Lizzie couldn’t possibly have injured herself so badly in a fall.’

  ‘He’s certain about that?’ Though her sympathy for Lizzie was unchanged, the verdict might make the police take things more seriously.

  ‘His explanation was quite technical, but in simple terms, the fracture was too high in the parietal bone to have been caused by a fall. She was hit with something extremely heavy and with some force.’

  ‘She was murdered.’ Flora nodded slowly. ‘Someone hit her over the head with a stone and arranged it to make look as if she had fallen.’

  ‘How did you know?’ Frowning, Alice poured milk into her tea. ‘It was only announced at the inquest.’

  ‘Because the bloodstain was on the side of the kerb stone, there was none on the upper surface. Also, the side with the blood on it was already wet from the rain. When she was killed it had stopped, so when the killer moved the stone, he placed it dry side upwards. He was clever enough to put it back, but didn’t have time to arrange the scene properly.’

  ‘Perhaps I should have let you talk to the police that day.’ Alice propped her elbows on the table, her chin balanced on her folded hands. ‘Now, I can see you are longing to tell me something. I take it you have news?’