“Where does he drive it?”
“Wherever there are horses to frighten,” Jonston replied in aggravation. “It’s an ugly thing. A little dogcart with giant wheels. Makes a ghastly noise.”
Victor laughed.
“Neither the car nor the mechanics should concern you. They have only been here a month.”
She sighed heavily. “My employer will expect me to speak to everyone, whether they need to be interviewed or not. He hired me for my brain and then acts as if I’ve lost it. I am not allowed to make the slightest deviation from his procedures.”
Thumping his fingers on his leg, Jonston stared at her for a long moment before standing. “You should probably begin with the house staff.”
She nodded. “Before I do, perhaps you can tell me a bit about Angela Campbell.”
“Who?” he asked as he returned to his chair.
“Angela Campbell…is that not the name of Mary’s mother?”
Jonston stared at her as if she were speaking a foreign language.
“Was she not the housekeeper here?”
“No. Mrs. Bidden has been the housekeeper for thirty-three years now.”
Vic paused to take in his claim. Someone was lying, but deuce if she knew which man it was. “I see. So when did Mary Campbell come here to work?”
Jonston shook his head in bewilderment. “Who?”
Vic frowned. “Mary Campbell, the servant I am expected to find.”
“We do not have a Mary Campbell on staff.”
“Are you certain? Mr. Robinson seems very keen that I find her.”
Jonston sighed and rubbed his temple before he replied. “I’m sorry. I fear you have come for nothing. Mr. Robinson is not…well. Sometimes he believes things which are not true.”
“Oh.” Vic frowned, not because she had come on a wild goose chase, but because the butler’s eyes had darted to the left several times during his proclamation and his hand kept toying with his cravat. Both were signs of deception.
“That is indeed unfortunate. However, I will still need to go through the motions and interview the staff.”
“What good will it do?”
“None. Complete waste of my time. However, Mr. Robinson has already paid for my services and my employer will expect me to fulfill the client’s wishes. I really don’t have a choice.”
“Nor do I.” His foot rapped on the floor in irritation. “Try to keep the interviews short. We are presently understaffed. I cannot afford the servants to be idle long.”
Understaffed! If he wished to see understaffed, he should come to her family house where ten servants managed the house and grounds to perfection. Now certain she had determined which man was the liar, she smiled at Jonston. “I will do my best to keep the interviews short, but I do have a series of questions I must ask.”
“Such as what?”
She pulled out her tablet. “Instead of wasting your time later, I can ask you the questions now, so you will know what they are.”
He nodded his consent.
She acquired his full name, date and place of birth, name of siblings, where he received his training as a butler, how long he had worked for Mr. Robinson. After this particular question, she looked up with concern. “How long has he been having these memory problems?”
“This is the first time,” Jonston replied after a pause.
She nodded and continued her tedious questions of religious affiliations, church attendance, how many days off, and what did he generally do during his free time.
“Is this really necessary?”
Vic sighed. “Not if I returned with pages of information about Mary. However, since Mary does not exist, all these questions are necessary. I have to let my employer see I was thorough. Otherwise, he’ll come out here and perform the interviews again.”
That idea appeared to alarm Jonston. “I see. Well, ask your questions, and be done with it.”
“Thank you. Ummm… you never answered the last question about what you do on your two days off.”
“I visit friends.”
“And their names?”
His eyes flared with fury. “You want their names?”
Victor grimaced at his outrage. “My employer is very exact.”
“Well, tell him I refused to answer.”
“Then he’ll come here and redo the interviews.”
“Damnation!” Jonston’s fingers drummed on his leg.
In all her life, Vic had never heard a butler curse before, not even Gregory. She recalled Mr. Robinson saying Jonston had dumped the baby on his book and told him to fix his own damn mess. She had initially thought it an exaggeration, but now she could well believe such declarations from this man.
Vic’s pencil remained poised for his answer. Finally, the man calmed and answered. “I go to a private club to escape the aggravations of my job.”
“I understand that,” Vic muttered. “The name of the club?
He paused before replying, “Beddingsome.”
“Thank you,” Vic replied. Having never heard of it, she tested his temper with another question. “Where exactly is the club located?”
“Why do you need to know?”
“My employer‒”
“It’s near Wapping Basin on Nightingdale Lane. Perhaps you should stop by and question the other patrons.”
“Where is Wapping Basin?”
Jonston’s hands clenched in agitated fists. “In the London Docks. Now if you are through wasting my time providing you geography lessons, I would like to put this nonsense to rest.”
She nodded. “Well, send in the staff.”
Jonston remained in the room during the interviews with the nervous cook and worried housekeeper. However, her consistent and tedious questions finally drove him away.
When the pretty maid entered, Vic smiled. This girl looked to be of an age to have been friends with the non-existent Mary. When Sara first sat, terror filled her eyes. However, Vic’s innocuous questions soon settled the girl.
“And what religion are you, Sara?”
“I’m Protestant,” she replied.
“So am I. Which church do you attend?”
She smiled. “The one on Welsh Ave. Where do you go?”
Vic grimaced. “To be honest, I haven’t attended for a while. My job keeps me busy.”
“Even on the Sabbath?” The girl’s eyes rounded in shock.
“God may rest, but criminals do not.”
“Why do you not take a different job?”
“Well, the work is interesting and it pays well.” Vic could tell Sara was sizing up the young man before her for marriage material. Poor girl would be most unhappy if she succeeded. “So did Mary go with you to church?”
“No, she’s…” Sara stopped and covered her mouth as her eyes filled with fear.
“Someone else told me about Mary. You are not to blame,” Vic assured her.
Sara leaned in and whispered. “Mr. Jonston said he’d punish anyone who mentioned her name.”
“Well, I have no intention of telling him anything. However, if I knew a bit more about this friend we won’t name, I might be able to ensure she is safe and well.”
Sara grabbed hold of Vic’s arm. “Would you? I’ve been so worried about her.”
“When did she go missing?”
“Sometime late Wednesday, after she attended the gentlemen.”
“When you say ‘attend,’ exactly what do you mean?”
Sara blushed and bit her bottom lip. “Waited on them. The master frequently entertains.”
“Tell me what happened.” To provide a sense of security, Vic took her hand.
Sara verified they were alone and whispered, “I overheard the cook say the master was her father.”
“And did you tell her?”
Sara nodded. “If he knew, he’d fire me…or worse!”
“Why?”
“Because I caused this! Mary confronted Mr. Jonston and called him a liar of the worst kind.”
>
“The butler? Why was she angry at him?”
“Because he had led her to believe he was her father. All these years, she’s endured the abuse because she thought it was her duty as a daughter.”
“What type of abuse?”
The maid would no longer look Vic in the eyes.
“Sara, is he abusing you, as well?”
She shook her head, but the tears streaming down her cheeks and raining upon her clasped hands said otherwise.
“Will you not trust me with the truth? I cannot help you unless you do.”
She tightened her grip on Vic’s hand. “No one can save me. If I try to leave, Mr. Jonston says he’ll let it be known I’ve lost my virtue.”
Vic sighed. “If I can find you another place to work‒”
“They would not want me once they know. Mr. Jonston would tell them.”
“That’s not true. I can find you a place where they will judge you solely on your work. The theft of your virtue will not matter.”
Her hand tightened on Vic’s. “This is too important to tease me with promises you cannot keep.”
“It’s not a tease. If you want to leave here, I will find you work in a proper house with kind people.”
Jonston suddenly entered the room and took note of Sara’s hand grasping Victor’s. His eyes narrowed.
Victor stood. “Thank you for your time, Miss.” She waited until Sara left to speak to Jonston. “Sorry, she was just so pretty…can’t blame a fellow for a bit of a flirt.”
Jonston growled beneath his breath and ordered in the next maid. She was uncommonly pretty as well. As was the one following. Out of the housing staff of nineteen, fifteen were young pretty girls, all requiring rescue in Vic’s opinion. From one named Laura, she learned the girls requiring punishment spent their days off at the docks, in a filthy room where ‘unspeakable things’ happened.
Vic expected her interviews of the eleven garden staff to be a waste of time, until she noticed the young men were decidedly good looking and flirting with her male persona.
She was no closer to finding Mary, but she had determined Mr. Jonston ran a bordello in the posh West End of London. The only question remaining was whether Mr. Robinson was a participant or just a fool.
She had almost forgotten about the car, until she was leaving the house and noticed the men washing the strange boxy vehicle. She walked over and complimented the car.
“Has a Daimler engine, does it not?” she asked.
The youngest mechanic smiled. “That she does. So you know about engines do you?”
Vic introduced herself, explaining Mr. Robinson had hired her to find Mary.
The older man snorted. “You want to find Mary, then follow the sorry bastard.”
Vic decided to guess who the sorry bastard might be. “You think Jonston has her?”
The man nodded.
“But why take her. I mean he has a whole houseful.”
“And gardenful if your taste bends that way. He’s always taking them away. Sometimes they return, looking worse for the wear, and other times they don’t and he hires a new one to fill the spot. Those poor creatures live in fear of him.”
“But you don’t.”
The older man snorted. “We report directly to Mr. Robinson. That bastard tried to alter our agreement, but we told Robinson we’d quit before we’d work under the butler. Then he tried to blackmail us into giving him half our salary, saying the girls would swear we raped them. I told him to call in the police and see who ended up arrested.”
The younger guy laughed at the memory and then frowned. “Trouble coming.”
Vic turned to see Mr. Jonston storming their way.
“You men stop lazing about. Mr. Robinson wants his car readied!” He then glared at Vic. “I thought you’d left.”
“I saw the car and had to take a look.” Vic gave her best look of failure. “I apologize for disrupting your day, Mr. Jonston.”
“Wait,” Jonston demanded and yanked the pad from Victor’s hand. He flipped through her notes, finding only the answers to her tedious questions. “Hopefully, this puts an end to the matter.”
“I hope for an end, as well,” Vic assured him. “But my employer is away just now, so our official conclusion may take a while. However, I don’t expect to interrupt your days any further.”
Satisfied, he returned Vic’s pad and ordered her off.
***
Vic sighed in exhaustion as she collapsed into her carriage. Why couldn’t this case be a simple lost servant? She needed Xavier to deal with this nasty business.
She gnawed her lower lip with worry.
Xavier needed to get back to his job and back in her bed. Where was he? Had Stone found him locked in a jail cell for loitering?
The thought of him stuck in cell with criminals made her smile, but only for a second. She couldn’t shake her sense of dread that something bad had happened.
Calling for Davy to stop the carriage, she climbed out and joined him on his driver’s bench.
Davy frowned. “I’m not teaching you to drive. This is my job.”
“Well, you probably should teach me sometime, but I won’t insist upon it today.”
Davy still looked mistrustful. “Then why are you up here.”
“I thought perhaps we could test out Xavier’s threat to hire a blind driver. You can close your eyes and I’ll tell you what to do.” Vic was teasing, but she could tell Davy was in no mood for fun and games. “Am I really such a terrible boss, Davy? You’ve been in a dreadful funk.”
“I’ve been under a cloud of doom since Xavier went off,” Davy grumbled. “And yes, clouds of doom do put me off my feed.”
She ignored his sarcasm. “I’ve felt the same. Like something terrible is going to happen.”
“Then will you call it off?”
“I would if I could. However, Xavier is a stubborn man. If there’s a case, he’s going to solve it come hell or high water.”
Davy sighed in exasperation. “I was talking about you and tonight’s plans.”
His request appalled and disappointed her. “I can’t call it off. Poor Mrs. Carson would never forgive me. However, I am glad you brought Jacko in. Had you told me he was familiar with stealing people from the place, I wouldn’t have resisted his inclusion.”
Davy made a loud ‘humpf’ and focused on the crowded street.
“Where’s Jacko now?”
“Watching the office.”
“Jacko?” she exclaimed. “You left Jacko in the office? What if someone comes wishing to schedule an appointment?”
“I’m sure he can figure out the appointment book.”
“But he’ll look like a pirate figuring out the appointment book. That is hardly the image we want to present.”
Davy yelled at some poor fellow, laden with boxes. “Get out of the bloody street!” He snapped the reins of the horse and returned his ill temper towards her. “Well, maybe we should hire a secretary. Someone who actually is a young gentleman and will stay in the office like he belongs!”
Vic knew he was just trying to scare her back into the office, but his suggestion had merit. She thought of several of the young men she had interviewed at Mr. Robinson’s. “That’s not a bad idea, Davy. We could use someone to watch over the office and take appointments. I’d keep the rest of the responsibilities, but it does look bad when a potential client arrives and finds our office locked up.” She grimaced. “Or worse, finds a pirate inside.”
Davy yelled at the driver of a wagon in front of him to pick up the speed. The driver retaliated by slowing his horse to a crawl.
“Can we swing by Wapping Basin?”
Davy’s eyebrows rose in horror. “Swing by? It’s an hour away!”
“That long?”
“In this traffic, possibly longer.”
“Have you ever heard of place called Beddingsome?”
By Davy’s frown, she suspected he had and he didn’t approve of it.
“Wha
t are you up to now, Vic?”
“Mr. Robinson’s butler says he goes there on his free days and suggested I check it out.”
“Did you piss him off?”
His question surprised her. “How did you know?”
“Because if you walked into Beddingsome, you’d have a devil of a time walking out—at least alive.”
She laughed at Davy’s conflicting words. “Well, if I’m dead, I doubt I’d be walking anywhere.”
Davy cursed beneath his breath and slapped his horse into a trot directly into oncoming traffic.
Grabbing hold of the seat-board, Vic closed her eyes, and braced for a crash. She heard several drivers cursing at them, but by the time she opened her eyes, Davy had passed the slow driver and now moved at a brisk pace.
“Maybe I’ll find someone else to teach me to drive,” she muttered beneath her breath.
Chapter 4
Stone waited until Victor left before returning to Xavier’s office. He entered to discover Jacko leaning back in a chair with his feet on the secretary’s desk.
The gypsy opened his eyes while one corner of his mouth turned up. “He’s still not here, Inspector. Vic told you the truth.”
“I believed him. I’m here to talk to you.”
That stole his smirk. “Whatever you wish to put at my feet, I didn’t do. I’ve been a damn saint this last year.”
Jacko’s claim sounded like a disgruntled complaint to Stone’s ears. “Since I believe you’ve been in Xavier’s employment, I seriously doubt you are in danger of sainthood.”
His eyes darkened. “As close as I ‘spect to get.”
Stone sat down on the other side of the desk.
Jacko resumed his pose of relaxation. “Do you want to make an appointment?”
“No. I want to ask for a favor.”
That at least got the gypsy’s attention. He removed his feet from the desk and leaned forward. “I wasn’t aware I owed you a favor.”
Stone’s hand rubbed his chin, wishing for once, Xavier’s staff wasn’t as difficult as the man in charge. “You don’t. This will leave me in your debt.”
Jacko’s fingers curled and uncurled. “I’m listening.”
“Xavier is missing. I sent men to the jails and he is not there. Neither is he here, nor at his post. We have lost him.”
The Missing Partner (The Adventures of Xavier & Vic Book 2) Page 4