Murder Flies the Coop

by Jessica Ellicott

  They bumped along the rutted lanes and roads that wound between the village of Hambley and the allotments in Walmsley Parva. Beryl pulled the automobile onto a grassy verge just before the entrance to the allotments and took a deep breath of the fresh spring air. Edwina turned to her and fixed her with a piercing look.

  “This is absolutely the last bit of detecting for today. I will look over the pigeon loft with you but not one thing more,” Edwina said. Beryl nodded.

  “I promise. Even if we discover another body in there we will simply walk away and head back to the Beeches without a word to anyone,” Beryl said. “Are you sure you are up for the company of the birds?”

  Beryl recalled her friend’s reaction to Mrs. Plumptree’s parrot, Cyril. She wondered if Edwina’s affection for birds only extended to the non-domesticated sort. She was inclined to go on to an irritating degree about the unfeeling manner Simpkins displayed when rooting out any appropriate spots for sparrows, thrushes, and wrens to find shelter. But perhaps she had no love of birds that found their way under a roof.

  “You know I love birds. Why would you ask me that?” Edwina said, turning on the bench seat to face Beryl.

  “After the way you acted with Mrs. Plumptree’s parrot I thought perhaps you preferred birds of the non-domesticated variety.”

  “I have no problem with domesticated birds. It’s just that Cyril’s vocabulary can be quite shocking,” Edwina said.

  “You make him sound like quite the character,” Beryl said. “I should have paid him more attention while we were at Shady Rest.”

  “It’s a good job you didn’t. He would have been encouraged to make even more outrageous comments.”

  “So you aren’t afraid of birds in general?” Beryl asked. “Just Cyril?”

  “Of course I am not afraid of birds. What sort of countrywoman would I be if I were?” Edwina said.

  “I’m glad to hear it. There are far too many birds involved in this case for one of us to have a horror of them.” Beryl snuck a peek at Edwina from the corner of her eye. She wasn’t entirely certain her friend was not putting up a brave front. Just in case that was the situation, she tucked her arm reassuringly through Edwina’s as they approached Mr. Cunningham’s pigeon loft.

  Beryl felt the comforting heft of her pistol in her pocket. Not that she would have said as much to Edwina. There was no need to alarm her friend with any additional concerns as there was clearly enough already on her mind. Beryl couldn’t help but notice Edwina hung a half step back as they approached the spot where they had discovered Mr. Cunningham’s body only a few hours before. For someone not accustomed to encountering corpses, Beryl thought Edwina was doing a bang-up job of keeping her upper lip as determinedly stiff as it ever was.

  “I’ll just open the door and stick my head inside, shall I?” Beryl said. She reached for the latch on the pigeon loft door.

  “I suppose that depends on your affinity for birds soaring about your head,” Edwina said. “I have no idea what they’ll do should a strange woman appear in their domicile.”

  “I’m afraid there’s nothing for it but to give it a go. What’s the worst that can happen?” Beryl said. “After all, someone has already stashed their keeper’s body here. I don’t suppose I’m about to do anything more disturbing.” She pulled on the latch and cautiously stuck her head through the opening, taking care not to allow the birds to fly away. She wasn’t sure why that worried her. After all, these were birds that specialized in knowing how to return home, even from vast distances. But somehow it seemed wrong to simply fling open the door when there was no one left to be sure they made it home again.

  Beryl did not know much about birds. Animals in general were not something that interested her in particular beyond those she encountered on safari or whilst trekking to one of the poles. Exotic animals captured the imagination in a way that commonplace creatures from her own neighborhood did not. She would pause and take note of a passing giraffe, a galloping zebra, or a waddling penguin. But even though she had no real expertise with poultry keeping, she still could easily see there had been a disturbance in Mr. Cunningham’s pigeon loft and one she suspected was not of the birds’ doing.

  “It would seem that we are not the first ones to think about looking here for something,” Beryl said.

  Despite her earlier hesitation Edwina joined her at the door and peered inside. “Someone has assuredly been searching through the nesting boxes. Look at the way the straw has been carelessly strewn about,” Edwina said, pointing at the signs of disorder inside the pigeon loft. The birds seemed flustered. Their heads darted back and forth and some of them flew about the inside of the loft from perch to perch, unable to settle down.

  “They were none too careful with what they found in the boxes either, were they?” Beryl said, pointing at the remains of several broken eggs spattering the ground.

  “Do you think someone else knew about the missing jewelry?” Edwina said.

  “I suppose it’s possible. Just because Mrs. Ecclestone-Smythe was in love with Mr. Cunningham did not necessarily mean that he felt the same way about her. Perhaps he wooed her to con her out of her jewelry and had no intention of running off with her in the first place,” Beryl said.

  “Do you think he had an accomplice who came looking for the jewels? Or perhaps someone he planned to sell them on to?” Edwina asked.

  “I think that’s a theory well worth exploring. It also could have been his killer. Maybe the murderer only had enough time to hide his body but not enough time to search the loft,” Beryl said. She turned to Edwina as she felt her friend shrink away from the pigeon loft.

  “Do you think we are in any danger by being here?” Edwina asked.

  “I shouldn’t think so. Whoever did this is gone and they either found what they were looking for or they did not,” Beryl said. She looked around the allotments. Most of them had no one standing within view. Far down at the other end a solitary man with a hoe stood with his back to them. She supposed someone could be hiding behind one of the many small potting sheds or hothouses, but she did not think it would help matters to mention that to Edwina.

  “Do you think it’s safe to say our business here is complete or do you wish to make a search ourselves of the loft?” Edwina asked.

  “As much as I hate to say so, I believe it’s necessary to be thorough. I’m afraid we shall have to investigate it for ourselves or we won’t have done our duty by Mrs. Ecclestone-Smythe,” Beryl said. She hoisted herself into the pigeon loft. Edwina followed and the two began a systematic search despite the protestations of Mr. Cunningham’s collection of pigeons. They fluttered and flitted around their heads and swooped from perch to perch as Beryl and Edwina tucked their hands into each nesting box in turn and came up empty.

  The women carefully peered into each of the corners and toed stray piles of straw out of the way in an effort to uncover anything secreted away. The air in the loft was stuffy and Beryl found herself instinctively breathing through her mouth. A coughing fit overtook her and she decided she had done her duty by Mrs. Ecclestone-Smythe. With a final glance round, the pair of them left the pigeon loft and Beryl shut the door firmly behind her, making sure the latch clicked back into place.

  “I don’t know much about bird keeping but I would venture to say there was absolutely nothing hidden in there one would not expect to find in a pigeon loft,” Beryl said. “But now I won’t spend the night tossing and turning, wondering if we should have checked inside.”

  Edwina reached up and plucked a bit of straw from Beryl’s platinum blond hair. “I say we head directly back to the Beeches for an early supper and a quiet night sitting in front of the fire,” Edwina said. “I’m so desperate to get there I shan’t even complain about how fast you drive.”

  Chapter 19

  It could not be said that Edwina passed a peaceful night. She tossed and turned and saw images of Mr. Cunningham’s body, Constable Gibbs’ angry face, and the look of surprise on Miss Chilvers’
visage every time she closed her eyes. By the time the sun was peeking through her draperies she realized she had never spent a less restful night. She sat upright, pushed back the coverlet, and slipped her bony feet into her scuffed carpet slippers. Crumpet cocked a bleary-eyed look in her direction from his basket at the side of the bed. He looked as though he had not slept any better than she had. She reached for her dressing gown and slipped her arms into the sleeves before knotting it firmly around her trim waist.

  Crumpet followed her as she quietly made her way along the hallway and down the stairs. She felt the strong urge for a bracing cup of tea to start what would surely prove to be a long day. Even when she was well rested she often felt exhausted by the mere thought of the diplomatic negotiations required for a successful May Day celebration committee meeting. Although to be honest it was not the May Day celebration that was the source of the trouble. Rather, it was any interaction between herself and local postmistress and sweetshop owner Prudence Rathbone.

  Edwina opened the back door to the garden and Crumpet slipped out into the dewy grass. She filled the teakettle and put it on the hob. Within an hour she had breakfasted, dressed, and walked the half mile from the Beeches to the village hall where the meeting was to be held. She arrived a few moments early in order to settle herself before Prudence was likely to arrive. Edwina prided herself on her punctuality, especially when she felt a bit unsure of herself.

  Edwina let herself in and took her preferred place at the table, near the head where there was a clear view of the door. As the vice-chairwoman of the committee she felt it her responsibility to give each person entering the building a friendly smile as they entered. And she wanted to keep an eye on Prudence from the very start of the meeting. She could not dismiss from her mind the impression that Prudence was eager to oust her from her position or even to have her removed from the committee entirely, or at least that’s how it felt to Edwina. Before long the other members of the committee had gathered around the long wooden meeting table. Prudence sat opposite her and fixed her bright blue eyes firmly on Edwina.

  Muriel Lowethorpe, the committee chairwoman, looked around and called the meeting to order. After approving the minutes of the last meeting she began taking reports on the progress of the committee members in their various tasks. After updates on the refreshments tent, the maypole dancers, and the volunteers for setting up and tearing down were delivered, Muriel turned to Edwina.

  “How are you managing with the advertising and the tombola donations?” Muriel asked.

  “I have wonderful news to report on that front. I have made the acquaintance of the nurse at the colliery and have asked her to stoke interest in the festivities within the mining village. The addition of the miners and their families should make the numbers swell beyond our usual attendance,” Edwina said. Even from across the table she was sure she felt a draft caused by the sharpness of Prudence’s indrawn breath.

  “You invited the miners of Hambley to a Walmsley Parva event? I should have thought you would understand that the folks around here want no truck with the likes of them,” Prudence said. Her eyes shone with indignation as murmurs moved through the assembled committee. “Surely it would have been best to consult with the committee before approaching anyone at the colliery.”

  “I can’t see how it is a problem. Muriel herself is already acquainted with Mr. Morley from the Hambley mine, through the vicar’s association with the pigeon racing club,” Edwina said. “Isn’t that right, Muriel?’

  “You are referring to Mr. Dennis Morley, I presume?” Muriel asked. Edwina detected a faint bit of color rising to Muriel’s cheeks. She wished it had not seemed necessary to discomfit the chairwoman, but Muriel was not one for change unless she was pressured into it.

  “Yes. My friend Miss Helliwell and I met Mrs. Morley, who seems a very sensible woman, and as the colliery nurse is someone in just the sort of position to encourage the miners to attend. I had no notion I had done anything that could be considered questionable.” Edwina glanced around the table. Some of the members nodded encouragingly while others leaned back in their chairs with their hands folded in front of them. A few kept their gaze firmly fixed on the table in front of them.

  “As I am quite certain you are aware, Edwina, it isn’t the nurse that is of concern,” Prudence said. “It is all the rest of the miners.”

  “May Day celebrations are a firm part of country life all across our fair land. Nowhere is this more true than in Walmsley Parva. As you all well know, the miners here in Kent have all come from far-flung places. They bring traditions and ideas that will only improve our festivities,” Edwina said.

  Prudence crossed her arms over her concave chest and scowled back at Edwina. Edwina never did understand how a woman who spent her day surrounded by sweets could have such a sour temperament.

  “Our association with Hambley is already proving to be a positive one,” Edwina said. “Miss Helliwell and I have secured a donation of a substantial quantity of coal for a prize at the tombola stall.”

  Muriel nodded slowly and looked at the rest of the committee, many of whom expressed delight at the donation. “That is very generous of Mr. Ecclestone-Smythe. Still, I wonder if you have been a bit hasty in deliberately encouraging the miners to attend,” Muriel said.

  “If Beryl and I had not thought to engage the mining community we would not have such a valuable prize offered.” Heads all around the table bobbed thoughtfully in agreement. All except Prudence Rathbone’s.

  “Remind me what took you to the village of Hambley in the first place.” Prudence asked, “You were over there on account of some rather nasty business, weren’t you?” All eyes turned on Edwina once more. She should have known, as the worst gossip in the village, Prudence would find a way to turn the conversation to Mr. Cunningham’s murder.

  “It is true that business rather than volunteerism originally put me in contact with the colliery at Hambley and its owner, Mr. Ecclestone-Smythe. But isn’t that what we all do? Don’t we all use the opportunities afforded to us to support our fundraising efforts on behalf of Walmsley Parva?” Edwina said.

  “I’m not quite sure Walmsley Parva should be accepting such ill-gotten gains. It almost amounts to blood money, does it not?” Prudence said, smiling at Edwina and exposing her long pointy teeth.

  “I don’t follow your reasoning. The fact that I met the colliery owner while investigating the disappearance of one of his employees does not make his gift any less generous or less valuable for our purposes,” Edwina said.

  “I believe you make my point for me. The fact that you have debased yourself by engaging in such an unladylike pursuit as private detection has rendered you unable to recognize the finer sensibilities the rest of us would notice as a matter of course. I think it’s likely the good citizens of Walmsley Parva would be reluctant to praise you for such an association. You have gotten yourself mixed up in a murder for a second time. I cannot be the only one who thinks it does not reflect well on you,” Prudence said. “In fact, in light of what some might consider a character flaw, I suggest we take a vote as to whether or not you should continue to serve on this committee at all.”

  Gasps whipped around the table. All eyes swung from Edwina to Prudence and back again. The venom in Prudence’s voice surprised Edwina. While she had long realized the other woman did not think kindly of her, she had not realized the extent of her dislike. She paused to consider whether or not she wished to remain on the committee. She was startled to realize she had more important things to do than to fill her days by volunteering for every organization that wanted her.

  She felt a wave of indignation swelling in her chest and threatening to boil over. Still, it would not do to give Prudence more cause for recriminations. Despite her anger she would not give Prudence the satisfaction of provoking her into behaving intemperately. She cleared her throat and smiled at the rest of the committee members.

  “When I look around this table I only see women. Women who
are intelligent, productive, and hardworking. Some women around the table have turned their God-given gifts to raising families and caring for their homes. Others, like yourself, Prudence, have engaged in the world of commerce. I seem to remember that the postal service has suffered its own share of unpleasantness. Overdue bills, illicit love letters, even reading material that some others might find offensive make their way through post offices all across the land. Even the post office in Walmsley Parva. Based on your reasoning, Prudence, you are no more fit to serve on this committee than I am,” Edwina said. “If Muriel wants my resignation she will ask for it. If she asks, I will tender it, but I will not do so because a fellow businesswoman feels herself above me.” Edwina and all the rest of the committee turned their eyes towards Muriel.

  “I have no intention of refusing help from anyone who is willing to give it. The May Day celebration requires a tremendous amount of work and it requires all hands if we are to pull off a successful event,” Muriel said. “The meeting is adjourned.”

  Chapter 20

  Beryl had skipped breakfast that morning as Edwina was already out the door before she awakened. Beryl’s skills in the kitchen extended to pouring herself a cup of coffee and not a great deal further. Instead she had taken her automobile out for a run and on her way back had encountered Alice Morley heading towards Walmsley Parva. The younger woman was heading to the chemist shop and Beryl convinced her to accept a ride. Alice finished her errand in far less time than she had expected and Beryl invited her back to the Beeches for a visit.

  Edwina seemed very pleased that they had a guest and had concocted an elaborate luncheon spread out of thin air the moment she arrived home from her meeting. Much to Beryl’s astonishment the three of them were seated at the dining room table within a half hour of Edwina’s return. Beryl was not sure what had happened at the committee meeting but whatever it was it had lit a fire under her friend.