Murder in an English Village

Home > Other > Murder in an English Village > Page 13
Murder in an English Village Page 13

by Jessica Ellicott


  “I do wish you’d stop saying such things about Mr. Jarvis. I will find it impossible to question him properly if you don’t leave off with your insinuations.”

  “I cannot help that I see something that ought to have been obvious to you for eons,” Beryl said. “I suggest you wear your smartest hat.”

  Chapter 20

  Hortense lived close enough to the Beeches to make it difficult to justify taking the car but Beryl simply couldn’t resist. Although she tried to convince herself she could use the exercise it was to no avail. She was behind the wheel and rolling through what she had come to think of as the heart of the English countryside. It was the quality of the light, she decided as she asked herself what set this rural scene apart from that of other places. Surely it was that rather than the lumbering herds of wooly sheep dotted the rolling hills and a swiftly running creek gurgled alongside the road. Norah was correct; the vehicle was indeed as good as new. Beryl’s mood lifted higher and higher with each bend in the road. How she loved to feel the wind whipping through the open window as she tooled along the narrow country lanes.

  Before she knew it the crooked wooden sign indicating the turnoff for Hortense’s lane appeared in her windscreen. Beryl yanked on the wheel and jounced almost immediately to a stop in front of a thatched cottage fronted by a garden brimming with bronzed foliage and bare-twigged shrubberies. What would it be like, she wondered, to stay in one place long enough to recognize how much a tree had grown or whether or not it was a better year for fruit than the last had been? Edwina would know those things and more about her beloved Walmsley Parva, Beryl thought as she slid from the seat of the car and stepped onto the cobblestones that paved the lane. Not much space to leave a vehicle here. There was just enough room for another to pass if the driver was extraordinarily careful.

  White curtains twitched at a front window and Beryl was sure she had found someone at home. She stepped to the door and rapped upon the shiny brass knocker shaped like a ship. The door swung open without the faintest of squeaks and a sturdy woman with decidedly grizzled hair looked out at her through thick spectacles.

  “Hello, I’m Beryl Helliwell. I hate to disturb you but my friend Edwina suggested you might be able to shed some light on a question that has come up.”

  “I’ve already told Edwina everything I know about that Land Army girl disappearance. I have a great deal to accomplish today and very little patience for wild-goose chases.” Hortense stood blocking the door, her arms laced across her prow of a bosom.

  “Edwina said you ran a tight ship when you were the matron at the Wallingford Estate. High praise from a woman like her who is also known for not suffering fools gladly.” Beryl looked at her carefully, searching for signs of thawing. Sure enough, Hortense took a step back and motioned for her to follow. She entered a low-ceilinged sitting room off the hall and gestured to a stiff-looking chair covered in faded, threadbare upholstery. Beryl lowered herself into it as though slipping into a boiling hot bath. Despite her care, prickles of horsehair prodded her backside straight through her clothing. She wondered if discomfort of her unexpected guests was a way Hortense kept to her schedule. Beryl certainly had no intention of staying any longer than she must.

  “What’s this all about? Why are you and Edwina so interested in Agnes and the goings-on at the Wallingford Estate at this late date?” Hortense asked.

  “Edwina was attacked in her garden four nights ago as soon as it became common knowledge that she was investigating some underhanded goings-on in Walmsley Parva. I asked Polly some questions about Agnes and shortly after that she ends up dead. We think there is a connection.”

  “What does Constable Gibbs have to say about it?”

  “About as much as she did about Agnes’ disappearance. She thinks nothing nefarious explains either incident. A most narrow-minded view in my opinion,” Beryl said. “I understand it is common knowledge that Constable Gibbs was inclined to take a harsh view of the Land Army women and what she presumed to be their rampant lack of morals. In light of her prejudice, Edwina and I have decided to look into the matter ourselves.”

  “In that case, I suppose I could answer a few questions. After all, I never did agree with the constable about my girls,” Hortense said. “What is it that Edwina wants to know then? And why did she send you instead of coming herself?”

  “Edwina was unavoidably detained this afternoon and as she had told me quite a lot about you, I wanted to make your acquaintance myself. It is a pleasure for me to meet other people who knew Edwina as a young woman. You’ve known her most of her life, haven’t you?” Beryl shifted slightly in the chair and felt another jab in her tender nether regions.

  “That’s true. Our parents moved in the same social circles and we were placed in each other’s path over the years for parties and dances. That sort of thing. We haven’t seen as much of each other as adults as so often happens when one person marries and the other does not.”

  “Edwina tells me that renewing your acquaintance was part of the appeal of her decision to volunteer as the Land Army Village Registrar,” Beryl said.

  “That is very kind of her to say, I’m sure. Edwina was a remarkable help with keeping track of which girls went where and when. She has a marvelous memory for all that sort of thing as well as being a dedicated record-keeper. We were very fortunate to have her.”

  “It was about some of the workers at the Wallingford Estate that I wished to inquire. Do you happen to remember Agnes Rollins reading to the men in the hospital wing of the estate?” Beryl asked.

  “I believe she did, yes. She asked my permission to do so, if I am properly recalling things.”

  “Did you grant it?”

  “I think I told her it was a kind thing she was offering to do and that it did her far more credit than the sorts of things many of the other girls got up to of an evening when they thought I didn’t know what they were about.” Hortense tut-tutted loudly.

  “So there wasn’t any trouble with Agnes spending time with the soldiers? No unwanted attachments? That sort of complication can arise very unexpectedly.”

  “She did have a bit of trouble with Michael Blackburn in just the manner you mean. But maybe you knew that already and just want to know if I know?”

  “Right you are, I’m afraid. I had heard about Michael’s unwholesome attention towards Agnes. I did wonder how tight your ship really was.”

  “I shouldn’t have presumed to call it watertight, but I think I had a good notion of where all the leaks were.” Hortense nodded to herself. “I prided myself on applying pitch to any such breaches with a thick brush.”

  “Was Polly one of the leaks?”

  “I wouldn’t have said that so much as that she tended to forget herself, to aim above her station in that dreamy way of hers. Most of the other girls were from the cities and much larger towns. They had no idea what they were getting into when they signed up. The silly girls happened upon a rally in a town square and felt called to a patriotic duty or they went looking for a bit of excitement far from home and they plunged in without thinking too much about it. For them it was a thing they did during the war and nothing more.”

  “But Polly was different, was she?”

  “Polly was trying to escape the drudgery of going into domestic service. She didn’t want to spend her life answering to the beck and call of her betters but she didn’t want to leave her family and her sweetheart for a job in the city like at an armaments factory. She wasn’t smart enough to be a nurse. So she followed that sweetheart of hers, Norman his name was, to the Wallingford Estate instead. Considering how unsuited she was to being a servant, it was a wise decision.”

  “You were familiar with her work as a maid?” Beryl asked.

  “She came here as a daily twice a week. Recently I was forced to ask her to leave my employ and not to return.”

  “Edwina mentioned she wasn’t the most enthusiastic worker.”

  “None of them are anymore. Servants have always b
een a tiresome and inferior race. No, it wasn’t her laziness but rather the fact that she was a thief that finally forced me to take action. I am certain she took my mother’s engagement ring. She denied it, of course, but who else could it have been?” Beryl had the impression that Hortense was the sort who always thought of the domestic staff first anytime she needed someone to blame. Still, Hortense’s allegation tallied with the rumors about Polly that Edwina had mentioned.

  “You said she came to the Land Army following after her young man? Did she like the work there?”

  “Not that I ever noticed. I shouldn’t have been surprised if the biggest reason she joined up was to keep an eye on Norman.”

  “Why would she need to do that?” Beryl asked. “I thought they were quite a devoted couple at that time.”

  “She was devoted. He was one of the only young men in arm’s reach surrounded by sophisticated, educated women willing to do their bit for King and country. Polly had good reason to be jealous.”

  “Anyone in particular that she feared might turn Norman’s head?” Beryl asked.

  “Agnes, for one. I used to see them talking behind the barns. I think the interest was only on his side though.”

  “Why would you say that?”

  “He had her by the arm once and I was surprised to see that she was determinedly tugging it away. When he saw me he let her go. I noticed her rubbing her arm like it was injured.”

  “Did you ever see that sort of problem between the two of them again?” Beryl asked.

  “I can’t recall ever seeing any more arguments or physical exchanges. They never did seem to me to be friends though,” Hortense said. “In fact, now that I think of it, if pressed I’d say he went out of his way to avoid her after the exchange I witnessed. It wouldn’t have been easy though. The estate was not such a large property that workers could avoid each other with ease.”

  “Was there a similar coolness between Polly and Agnes?”

  “Not that I was aware of. They talked to each other and worked together every day. Perhaps it was a question in Polly’s case of keeping her enemy closer. If she were with Agnes then Agnes couldn’t be alone with Norman.” Hortense looked up at the clock chiming on her mantlepiece. “As I am quite certain there is nothing else I can tell you I really must get on with my day. The jumble sale won’t set itself out you know.” Hortense rose and stood over Beryl until she also got to her feet.

  “If you think of anything else, I am sure Edwina would love to hear from you.”

  “You can tell Edwina that if she wants to speak to me about Agnes, Polly, or anything else for that matter, she can drop in at the village hall and do her bit for the jumble sale. Like I told her before, it is impossible to get good help. Now with Polly dead there is even one fewer person to help with the job.”

  “Did Polly help with the sale? I had understood her to be more of the sort of girl who was up for parties and the cinema than good works in the community.”

  “You are correct about that, most assuredly. It was rather tedious but I told her it was her obligation as someone in my employ to provide whatever assistance I required of her. She wasn’t happy about it but she acquiesced in the end.” Hortense headed for the door. “Those in the serving class always do in the end.”

  “Did she continue helping out after you dismissed her from your service?” Beryl asked.

  “Of course not. What little influence over her I held disappeared the moment our arrangement ended. There is no sense of community instilled in a girl like Polly Watkins. None whatsoever. Now, if there is finally nothing else?” Hortense went to the door and yanked it open as if it had done her a personal affront.

  Beryl knew when the time had come to take a hint. With little by way of good-byes she hurriedly took her leave. Edwina had not said Hortense was a close friend and Beryl had wondered at that since they had been thrown together so much as children. From their time together as girls Beryl knew Edwina did not share Hortense’s views on differences between community members based upon class. After all, Edwina had seemed to enjoy having Norah for luncheon. Beryl couldn’t imagine Hortense happily allowing a mechanic to sit down to the table with her. She thought about Hortense’s words all the way to the cinema.

  Chapter 21

  If she were to be honest with herself, Edwina was soundly discomfited by Beryl’s insistence that Charles held her in any particular regard. Despite her reluctance to visit Charles Jarvis, Edwina told herself it was her Christian duty to follow through on Polly’s behalf, no matter where the investigation might lead. Even if it were true that Charles held a certain tendresse for her, the use of feminine wiles offended Edwina’s sense of fair play. Besides, she was terrible at employing them. The few times she had attempted to do so during her extreme youth had proven disastrous and memorable. One incident involving a picnic hamper and a rowboat had proven so embarrassing that for more than a year all her mother had to do was to mention the word sandwiches and Edwina fled the room. In an effort to dissuade any increase in any interest he may have had for her, Edwina selected her third best hat from the hall tree and stuck it on her head with scarcely a glance in the mirror.

  Her thoughts plagued her all the way to Charles’ chambers. She was not a girl any longer, she chided herself as she lifted the latch on the door to the solicitor’s office. Besides, she had been a part of that particular establishment far earlier than Charles himself had. After all, he became her father’s junior partner years after she had spent her girlhood holidays sprawled across the oxblood leather couch in the waiting room reading law books her mother would not have approved of had she known.

  She took a deep breath and the image of her father with his muttonchop whiskers and baritone voice seated soothingly behind his vast mahogany desk appeared in her mind’s eye. She knew how lucky she had been and the losses she had felt were all the more acute because of it. Charles’ secretary, a solid, woman with a cheerful disposition, welcomed her as she entered and said her employer was in and would be delighted to see her, as always, she was sure. Wouldn’t Edwina come right through?

  Charles stood up, nearly knocking over a bottle of ink when Edwina entered. “I was planning to call on you at the Beeches before the day was out. I’ve heard the news about Polly Watkins and also that you were the one who found her. Along with that friend of yours. What is her name?” Charles squinted as if he were searching his memory. It was a singular moment. Charles never forgot anything important and Edwina had yet to meet anyone who did not think Beryl made a lasting impression.

  “Beryl Helliwell. She’s quite a famous adventuress. I’m sure you’ve heard of her,” Edwina said.

  “If you say so. I can’t say I’ve paid much attention to adventuresses or Americans either for that matter.” Charles came round from behind his desk, a more modest version than her departed father’s, and offered her a seat. He waited for her to settle herself and then sat in the visitor chair beside her. “Now tell me, how are you really?”

  “I’m absolutely fine. It was a shock, of course, to find a body, but I wasn’t the one injured so I have no cause for complaint. I seem to have bounced back well enough,” Edwina said. “I came to ask you some questions about Polly. I know you have been on better terms with her than I of late.”

  “She was at my house doing the cleaning the the same day she died. I was absolutely stunned to hear she had died so unexpectedly.” Charles tented his fingers and leaned back in his chair. “It shouldn’t have been so shocking after all the young people who were fine in the morning and gone by the afternoon from flu but there’s been no sign of that long enough so as to get complacent again.”

  “I know just what you mean. If I had come across some elderly tramp that had fallen down for excess drink or even an injured former soldier who had done himself a mischief I would naturally have been startled, but I wouldn’t have been so shocked. How did she seem to you that day when she was at your house?”

  “She was much as usual.” Charles l
ooked down at his feet stretched out in front of him. “One doesn’t like to complain but . . .” His voice trailed off.

  “But she wasn’t a very ambitious girl.”

  “Not where the cleaning was involved, no,” Charles said. “She seemed glad to be adding the Beeches back to her roster of cleaning jobs though. I gathered from a few hints that she dropped that she was saving up for something special and a few extra shillings would be quite welcome.”

  “Beryl mentioned the same thing. Had you any idea what the money was for?”

  “I didn’t pay any attention to her chatter generally. In fact, I tried to avoid being home when she was here. I told her I didn’t want to be in her way, but the fact was I could only listen to so much about one film star or another. She had been even more verbose of late. I think she’d seen every film that had come through the local cinema.”

  “I have reason to believe you are right about that.” Edwina still couldn’t quite credit what Beryl had told her concerning Mr. Mumford. He did have such a kind way about him. “So nothing but film stars and tittle-tattle from Polly called your attention?”

  “She did ask me something a little different a week ago or so,” Charles said. “I don’t suppose it falls under client confidentiality even though it was a legal question as she didn’t ever ask me to represent her interests.” Edwina’s ears pricked up.

  “What did she ask you about?”

  “She wanted to know how long something could be considered a crime. She asked if there was any possibility that someone could be prosecuted for something that had happened during the war years. Naturally I asked for specifics. I am loath to offer legal advice with so few details.”

  “Did she give them to you?” Edwina felt herself sliding to the edge of her seat.

  “She refused to say anything specific. She became quite agitated when I said I didn’t feel comfortable advising her with so little to go on. In the end I relented because she was so insistent. I told her it depended entirely on the sort of crime committed and that there were different statutes of limitation on crimes based on the severity.”

 

‹ Prev