“I heard that the rumors about her being down to her last farthing weren’t true.” Polly looked at the ceiling as if consulting some sort of appointment diary written in invisible ink. “Will she have my back wages as well? I don’t think I could come back without what was owed me.”
“Miss Davenport insists upon it,” Beryl said. “Along with a small bonus for your trouble.”
“In that case I could start again first thing tomorrow if that would suit,” Polly said. “I don’t mind saying I’d be glad of a bit of extra to lay by for the future.”
“We would be extremely grateful. I wished to speak to you not only to procure your capable services once more.” Beryl paused to look around the model kitchen once more. Beryl was very much afraid that for all his conveniences Mr. Jarvis would still have a difficult time convincing a lady to be impressed by his home. Beryl wasn’t at all sure what Polly was being paid to do exactly. The floor was streaked with mud. Cobwebs festooned the corners of the ceiling and the state of the windowpanes left Beryl unsure whether the view was one of a garden or something else entirely. “I also understood that you might have information which would help clear up a distressing event that has taken place in Walmsley Parva.”
“I might?” Polly’s eyes goggled. “I can’t imagine how.”
“Do you remember a young woman named Agnes Rollins who worked up at the Wallingford Estate as a Land Army girl?” Beryl spoke softly and kept looking back over at the door. She wanted to give the impression of secrecy. Girls like Polly, in Beryl’s experience, liked to have a bit of something that set them apart from the rest of the crowd. What better to do that than to be the source of information in an enquiry?
“That one that went missing?”
“That’s just who I mean. Do you remember her?”
“Of course I do. She was the leader for my gang of workers. Her disappearance caused a right ruckus when it happened.” Polly’s posture lost some of its uprightness. In her eagerness to help she leaned across the table and drummed her fingers on its white surface. “One day she was there and the next day she wasn’t. Not word to anyone. Why do you want to know about her all this time later?”
“May I trust you with a secret?” Beryl asked. “It is very important you keep it to yourself.”
“You don’t keep a job like mine for long if you spread gossip like Miss Rathbone down to the post office, now do you? People let you into their homes and it’s nigh on impossible for the hired help not to know things guests in the drawing room would be shocked to discover. I can keep a secret all right. Especially for Miss Davenport.” Beryl leaned a little closer and spoke at barely above a whisper.
“Last night someone tried to strangle Edwina with her own scarf whilst she was out walking her dog,” Beryl said. Polly gasped.
“Is she all right?”
“Nothing a couple days of rest and cups of hot tea won’t fix. But she thinks there is a connection between the attempt on her life and the disappearance of that girl Agnes Rollins.”
“Why ever should she think a thing like that?” Polly looked genuinely confused.
“I made the mistake of confiding to someone that Edwina and I were looking into the possibility of some criminality here in Walmsley Parva. Only a few hours later someone made the attempt on her life. Agnes’ disappearance came to mind as something someone might not want investigated,” Beryl said. Polly shifted about in her seat and looked at her lap. “Since you are the only Land Army girl who worked on the Wallingford Estate who’s still here Edwina suggested I ask you about what might have happened to her.”
“I’ll give you any help I can but I doubt I’ll remember much. We weren’t close friends or anything. What do you want to know?”
“Do you remember anything about her daily habits?” Beryl asked. “Or her duties?”
“I remember that she drove the milk float early each morning.”
“By herself?”
“I believe so. Everyone had more than enough to do and we didn’t double up on jobs that didn’t absolutely need it.”
“You said she was your gang leader. Did she get on with the girls under her command?”
“As far as I ever heard she did. I think she had a reputation as the matron’s pet but she pulled more than her own weight so no one complained too much.”
“Did she have any particular friends amongst the other Land Army girls?” Beryl asked.
“I would say that. They didn’t complain about her but they resented her a bit I think. She didn’t socialize much. None of us did since we were all plumb worn-out by the end of the day. Besides, we all had to make an early start of it every day. Milking happens early.”
“Can you remember anything about the day she went missing? Anything at all?” Beryl asked. There was no sound in the kitchen other than the odd clunk issuing forth from the sink pipes. The kitchen was not entirely modern after all. Polly took her time and Beryl let the silence stretch out between them. Finally Polly seemed to make up her mind.
“No one noticed at first that she were missing. All the other girls got up as they always did and got busy with dressing and breakfast. Breakfast and the noon meal were always informal and you never waited for others to join you. You just served yourself and got on with the work.”
“Very sensible.”
“Agnes was never one for breakfast anyway. She said it made her green about the gills to think of eating at the crack of dawn, and she made up for it at noontime. No one thought it the least strange she hadn’t been seen at breakfast.”
“Was she there after breakfast?”
“Not that anyone could say later when that poor excuse for a bobby, Constable Gibbs, showed up and started asking questions a few days later.” Polly looked at the ceiling again as if in consultation. “Everyone just got on with their milking duties and assumed Agnes was with someone else at the time. It wasn’t until she should have taken the milk float out on deliveries that anyone noticed she was missing.”
“Was there a thorough search made for her?”
“I’ll say there was. We needed every single person available for the work. And all the girls made a yearlong commitment to serve. No one expected anyone to go back on the commitment no matter how much they hated the job. Least of all someone like Agnes.”
“Did she hate the job?”
“No, I don’t think she did really. I think it took its toll on her like it did so many city girls. They weren’t used to that sort of work but they mostly settled down and got used to it before too long.”
“Where did you look for her?”
“We checked her room, of course, to be sure she hadn’t overslept. When she wasn’t there Mrs. Merriweather called Miss Davenport in and asked her to help search the estate while she took care of the milk delivery herself that morning.”
“Did you find any trace of her?”
“Not a one. We looked in the main house, which had been turned into a sort of a hospital for recovering soldiers, but no one had seen her there. We searched the fields and the barns. Mrs. Merriweather even went to the train station to ask after her but no one matching Agnes’ description had been seen leaving Walmsley Parva that morning or the night before either.”
“How long did you keep looking for her?”
“Mrs. Merriweather called off the search after she checked Agnes’ room and discovered all her personal items were gone. She said that we couldn’t waste any more time or energy on someone who’d left us in the lurch and that we would be better off forgetting about her and getting back to our duties.”
“And that was the end of it?”
“Miss Davenport wasn’t as quick to let it go as the rest of us. But she always likes to see the good in people. I don’t think she wanted to believe Agnes would abandon her duties like she did.”
“And no one ever heard from her again?”
“Not that I heard mention of.”
“Can you think of any reason someone might have wanted her out of the w
ay? Any reason someone might have made her disappear? Anything at all?” From the way she squeezed her lips together as she shook her head, Beryl was certain a flicker of an idea passed through Polly’s mind. “Nothing at all that gave you pause either at the time or now as you are reflecting upon it?”
“No, nothing,” Polly said.
Chapter 6
Edwina waited for Beryl’s retreating form to disappear down the drive before she hurried upstairs to dress for the day. While she had given Beryl the impression she would stay in and rest, she had no intention whatsoever of doing so. She slipped into a serviceable day dress and rooted around in a dressing table drawer for a faded silk scarf. She wrapped it loosely around her neck to cover the bruising. She hurried down the stairs and clipped a lead onto Crumpet’s collar.
Hortense Merriweather had returned to live in her own home on the other side of the village after the Land Army was disbanded the year before. But it was far more likely that the former Land Army matron would be found continuing her volunteerism efforts. Edwina couldn’t blame her. She did her best to stay away as much as possible from her own empty home. The two likeliest places to find Hortense Edwina thought were the village hall or the church. Crumpet would be far more welcome in the hall so she decided to head there first.
Edwina stopped to allow Crumpet to sniff at a rustling pile of leaves before ascending the short flight of steps to the village hall. She pushed open the heavy wooden door with an ear-shattering creak and peered inside. Light filtered in through the door and a beam of dust motes ascended like a sort of holy apparition. At the far end of the room Hortense stood silhouetted against the wavy glass of a long window.
“Hello, Edwina, are you here to lend a hand with the jumble sale?” Hortense’s voice boomed across the sparsely filled space. Crumpet cowered behind Edwina’s skirt as Hortense approached. Edwina had noted in the past that Hortense was far fonder of dogs than they ever seemed to be of her. “I see you’ve brought a helper, too.”
“He’s a fine fellow but if you need things sorted you might want to look elsewhere. He is much better at making things disappear than he is at piling objects into groups.” Edwina winced as Hortense stooped at the waist and gave Crumpet’s ears what she likely considered a playful tug. Crumpet yelped and wrapped his lead around Edwina’s legs in an effort to get away from Hortense’s determined attentions. Something had to be done before she was knocked off her feet. Edwina pointed to the tables covered with the castoffs from homes throughout the village. “Are you here on your own with all this to do?”
“I don’t know what the world is coming to. You just can’t seem to get help with anything these days.” Hortense folded her arms across her well-upholstered bosom and tut-tutted at the emptiness of the room. “Why, I remember a time when there were more women to help with such things than there were jobs for them to do. I used to make up little unnecessary tasks just to make some of them feel useful.”
“Sometimes it feels as though everything has changed,” Edwina said. “I find myself wondering what fresh wave of trouble might be just round the next corner.”
“Is the arrival of your celebrated visitor one such of the troublesome changes?” Hortense asked. “I expect you are all at sixes and sevens with her popping up at the Beeches.”
“How did you hear about that?”
“The same way as everyone else. I was walking along the high street yesterday afternoon minding my own business when Prudence Rathbone popped out of her shop all agog with the news that she had met the famous Beryl Helliwell.”
“Was that all she said?”
“Certainly not. She sputtered on about the very idea that someone like her would be a friend of yours and could I believe it? She even went so far as to suggest you had deceived us all with your appearance of financial difficulties over the past few weeks. She made the ridiculous allegation that you were making it all up as some sort of a ruse to explain Beryl Helliwell’s appearance in Walmsley Parva.” Hortense let loose an unladylike snort. “I told her she was off her nut. I’ve never seen anyone so angry in all my life.”
Edwina found herself in the unprecedented position of defending Prudence Rathbone. Not only was Prudence known for her eagerness to spread rumors, she was also unparalleled in her ability to take the smallest smidgen of information and turn it into a full-blown tale worthy of the evening papers. One of the grubby pleasures of life in Walmsley Parva was watching with disbelief the stories Prudence invented to condemn her neighbors. It would have been far easier to allow Hortense to remain convinced that Prudence had made up the entire story herself. Still, it would hardly help bolster her claims of solvency if she didn’t lend credence to Beryl’s rumor. Nor would it help to root out her nocturnal assailant. Edwina gingerly touched her throat and let out a sigh.
“I’m afraid she finally has a tale worth carrying. Beryl Helliwell is indeed here in Walmsley Parva and will be for the foreseeable future.”
“Surely you’re having me on,” Hortense said, planting both hands down on the table in front of her so forcibly that a china elephant, short one leg, toppled over and dashed to bits on the hard surface.
“I assure you, I am not.” Edwina stepped forward and with a piece of newspaper began gathering up the white and blue shards. “We were at finishing school together as girls and have kept in touch, however sporadically, all these years.”
“You never said,” Hortense said. “But then you wouldn’t have, would you?”
“It would have sounding like boasting or trying to capitalize on someone else’s reflected glory. It was far nicer to read about her adventures in the newspapers. In a village like this one so little stays private. I rather enjoyed having a secret for a change.”
“I see just what you mean. In a village privacy is a luxury in short supply,” Hortense said. “Does that mean she was also correct in asserting that you sent out a coded plea for assistance in order to get to the bottom of a crime at the behest of the King?”
“How many people in the village do you think Prudence told that to as well?”
“All of them, from what I heard. So, is that true as well? Criminal activity here in Walmsley Parva?”
“Let’s just say someone made an attempt on my life last night. I hardly think it was a coincidence.” Edwina loosened the knot in her scarf and pulled it aside to expose her bruised throat. Edwina couldn’t resist the lure of a little glamour and intrigue. “I doubt very much the King would approve of this,” she said pointing to a particularly painful mark darkened to the color of aubergines.
“Are you saying someone attacked you? Whatever for?”
“I think someone is afraid of me asking questions.”
“Asking questions? What about?” Hortense asked.
“Helping out with the jumble wasn’t the only reason for me stopping by this morning. I wanted to speak to you about Agnes Rollins.”
Hortense threw up her hands in the air. “Not that old news again. I told you at the time she was just a foolish, irresponsible girl who had no sense of her duty. Nothing more mysterious than that.” Hortense turned her attention to a pile of mismatched mittens and began sorting them into pairs by size regardless of color of pattern.
“We both knew that girl and it wasn’t like her to be anything but conscientious. I never felt satisfied with the fact that no one ever could say what had happened to her.” Hortense dropped a red mitten to the table surface and gave Edwina her full attention.
“You think that the disappearance of a flighty young woman more than two years ago explains someone trying to choke you last night?”
“Can you think of any other secret someone would be so eager to protect?”
“If you really think there was something unsavory about Agnes’ leave-taking, why didn’t you insist on following it up more thoroughly at the time?”
“I seem to remember trying to do just that. But I felt as though I was crying into the wind. I understood that things needed to get back to work at t
he Wallingford Estate for the greater good, and don’t blame you for moving on quickly. But even Constable Gibbs didn’t seem to be as concerned as I was at the time either.”
“She had her hands full with day-to-day troubles. She certainly wasn’t likely to borrow any more.”
“Still, she did not do what anyone could consider a comprehensive job with the search for Agnes.” Edwina thought back to the complete lack of assistance the search for Agnes had received from Constable Doris Gibbs. A female police officer was a new and startling concept for the villagers and Constable Gibbs had shown herself eager to uphold even higher standards of the law than her male predecessors. In fact, her law and order stance had led to her dismissal of the investigation into Agnes’ disappearance. She had a list of wayward young women she suspected of khaki fever and the members of the Women’s Land Army all were given a place on it simply because of their uniform trousers and the proximity of their housing to the hospital where so many soldiers could be found recovering.
Edwina had been able to say nothing to convince Constable Gibbs to consider the possibility that Agnes was a good girl who might have been a victim of foul play. Unfortunately the crime rate in the village was at an all-time low with Constable Gibbs serving the community and in an unusual turn of events, she was not replaced by a male officer at the end of the war. Edwina hardly expected her to be any more help at this late date than she had been when Agnes first went missing. Edwina certainly wasn’t going to report the attack upon her person the night before. Edwina had an uncomfortable suspicion that she might have a place on one of the constable’s lists as well. Not for lewd behavior but quite possibly as a waster of police time or even a degenerate debtor. She vastly preferred to have no contact whatsoever with Constable Gibbs.
“I suppose she could have been a bit more enthusiastic about it, but you know what she’s like. How is it that you propose I can help you at this late date?” Hortense moved down the table from the mitten pile and began sorting half-empty spools of thread and other sewing notions into neat clusters. Edwina followed and tackled a wooden crate filled with tarnished singleton candlesticks and chipped vases. Under Hortense’s watchful eye she lined up the household offerings wondering whom in their right mind might find use for any of them.
Murder in an English Village Page 4