A Death for King and Country - A Euphemia Martins Murder Mystery (Euphemia Martins Mysteries Book 7)

by Caroline Dunford

  ‘Which is why the pair of yous are galumphing all over the place.’

  ‘I never galumph!’

  ‘Aye, well, whatever ye’re doing. Making me drive you like I am some … automation.’

  ‘It is your job, Rory,’ I said. ‘If you do not like it then you should seek another situation.’

  ‘So that’s what ye want me to do, is it? Get out of your hair? Leave you to get up to goodness knows what! Well, I shan’t do it!’

  Never had Fitzroy’s warning seemed so apt. Rory had no claim over me whatsoever, but here he was acting like a jealous husband.

  ‘Rory,’ I began carefully, but as I was framing how best to approach the situation the door burst open, and Bertram stormed in.

  ‘It’s no damn good, Euphemia,’ he said, not noticing Rory who stood off to one side, ‘I eventually bribed the man to see the passenger list. Over two thousand names, and me with no idea what name the blighter might have been travelling under. We don’t even know what class he was travelling in. I tried to describe him, but he always was such a slippery, nondescript kind of fellow that I couldn’t make anything of him.’

  ‘Fitzroy,’ said Rory, who is far from stupid. ‘This is all about Fitzroy.’

  Bertram started, strode into the middle of the room and turned on Rory. ‘What’s this fellow doing in here?’ he demanded. ‘I thought we were keeping this all on a strictly need to know.’

  ‘He is preventing me from eloping with you.’

  Bertram looked a little awed. He addressed Rory directly.

  ‘Don’t know I could keep Euphemia from doing anything she set her mind on. Don’t know I’d dare.’

  Rory frowned.

  ‘Oh, for goodness sake, man,’ said Bertram. ‘You know her well enough to know she’d be a damn sight too annoying to elope with.’

  I bridled at this, but some communication passed unseen between the pair of them and I saw Rory’s shoulders drop. ‘Aye, well, ye have a point,’ he said. ‘I mind ye told me about the time she …’

  ‘Yes, yes,’ said Bertram, flapping his hands frantically, ‘not the time. Euphemia, you had better tell Rory what this is all about.’

  ‘What did you tell him, Bertram?’

  ‘Nothing important,’ said Bertram, still flapping. ‘Bring McLeod up to date. He might have some ideas about how we can progress, because I’m plum out of inspiration.’

  I sighed and explained about Fitzroy’s will. Again, I left out the part about my information rewards, but I stressed the letters had been deemed for my eyes only by Fitzroy and I intended to honour his wishes. Fortunately, this did not seem to bother Rory.

  ‘What you need is a sketch of the man,’ he said.

  ‘Euphemia?’ asked Bertram hopefully.

  ‘Drawing is not one of my talents,’ I said.

  ‘But you’re a female,’ said Bertram. I ignored him.

  ‘I can draw,’ said Rory. ‘If you will ask the staff to find some paper and charcoal I reckon I could make a fair image of him. I remember him well enough. Dislike can do that to memory,’ he finished darkly.

  ‘But where will they get such things?’ I asked.

  ‘That’s not your problem,’ said Rory. ‘It’s theirs.’

  It took the staff a little time, but drawing materials were procured and were sent up with a pot of tea and the muffins I had ordered. I poured the tea while Bertram buttered. Rory took a small table over to the window for better light and began to draw.

  Bertram and I fortified ourselves. In less time than it took for the pot to cool, and this may have been an incentive, Rory had produced the outline of a rough sketch. He came over to get his tea and passed Bertram the sketch.

  ‘That’s him, isn’t it? I can fill in more details, but I need to know I’ve captured his likeness.’

  Bertram nodded. ‘It is really rather good, McLeod. Have you ever thought of becoming an artist?’

  Rory gave him an incredulous look. ‘I prefer a living wage,’ he said, and bit into a muffin. ‘Ah, this is good,’ he said through a mouthful of crumbs. ‘You have no idea how badly I eat while you’re dining a la carte.’

  ‘I presumed you went out to the local public house,’ said Bertram.

  ‘Aye,’ said Rory darkly.

  Bertram muttered about having to do something about this, but seeing as he could hardly invite his chauffeur to dine with him, I attempted to head the conversation in another direction.

  ‘What shall we do next?’

  Bertram nodded his head at Rory. ‘I’ll take his sketch back down to the shipping office tomorrow and show it around.’

  ‘Do you think it’s wise to draw attention to yerself when it’s this mannie in question? We dinnae ken if he still has enemies around.’

  ‘Don’t be silly,’ said Bertram. ‘He’s dead and who would be interested in us?’

  I felt the pit of my stomach drop. I was beginning to have a really bad feeling about this.

  Chapter Sixteen

  In which the tea is particularly thick and Rory

  gets restless

  The next morning it was finally agreed, after a determined, but hushed argument round by the hotel garages, that Bertram would take the sketch. However, Rory and I would also be present, though separate, down at the docks in case things took a turn for the unusual.

  Rory drove us down and parked discreetly two streets away from the dockside. ‘I don’t know what all this fuss is about,’ moaned Bertram. ‘The man’s dead for heaven’s sake.’

  ‘Do you not remember what he did for a living?’ asked Rory. ‘The man probably had more enemies than your sister has eaten cakes.’

  ‘I say,’ said Bertram, ‘that is not a nice thing to say about my sister.’

  ‘I take it you consider yourself one of the team once more rather than a chauffeur,’ I said.

  ‘Oh, Lord,’ said Bertram. ‘I’m off before he starts calling me Bertram again. You are too much, man.’ And so saying he set off at brisk pace towards the docks.

  ‘He has a point,’ I said. ‘You are rude to him.’

  ‘And you’ve always been the perfect servant!’

  ‘No,’ I admitted, ‘but I am not rude.’

  ‘If he doesn’t like it he can sack me,’ said Rory scowling.

  ‘You know Bertram would never turn anyone off into destitution, because that is where you would be without employment, Rory.’

  ‘I have more than one permanent offer of work elsewhere,’ sniffed Rory.

  ‘So why do you stay?’ I demanded crossly.

  ‘Come on,’ said Rory. ‘Bertram is disappearing over the horizon. Take my arm and we can look like we are strolling down to look at the liners.’

  ‘Will there be any in?’ I asked, diverted. ‘I hear the ones that sail from here are much larger than the ones I have been on.’

  Rory’s scowl deepened. ‘I forgot ye had been sailing.’

  ‘It is not something I would care to repeat,’ I said, my mind returning at once to the fateful night of April 14th.

  Rory did not answer, but set a cracking pace.

  ‘Careful, we do not want to catch him up,’ I warned. Indeed, we arrived down by the dockside to see Bertram determinedly march up to and into the shipping office, a low white building that stood on its own near the dockyard. I could tell by his gait he was in the mood for a fight.

  I sighed. I did not expect it to go well.

  ‘Aye,’ said Rory, following my gaze, ‘I think Bertram would do well to remember you catch more flies with honey.’

  ‘Well, it’s too late to tell him now. Shall we take a turn around the public areas, as if we are admiring the ships?’

  Rory looked down at me. ‘You are looking a bit too genteel for my liking.’

  ‘This is an old dress. I put it on purposefully.’

  ‘You’ve been living among the toffs long enough you’ve forgotten what it’s like to be poor.’

  ‘I shall try and speak common,’ I said, trying and fail
ing to affect an accent.

  Rory laughed. ‘I recommend you keep your mouth shut unless it’s to ooh and ahh at the ships. Remember, the likes of us can’t afford to go on these luxury liners.’

  We wandered along the dockside. It was surprisingly busy. No passengers were currently boarding, but there were three large vessels in dock that were obviously being resupplied. A row of smart motorised automobiles with names of well-known shops emblazoned on their sides stood alongside the more traditional horses and carts that were delivering simpler fare. Rory cast a knowledgeable eye over the greengrocer’s supplier. [16]

  ‘Looks like only the best for the First Class passengers. That ship must be getting ready to leave soon. Some of the items being carried on board will not last long.’

  ‘I do not see any passengers,’ I said.

  ‘I imagine they keep the loading of supplies and the loading of passengers as separate as possible. The last thing any captain wants is stowaways creeping on board. With these big ocean-going liners there is not much that can be done if someone is found far enough out to sea.’

  ‘The Titanic docked at Cherbourg and Queenstown in Ireland before heading off to New York. I looked it up in the newspaper room in the hotel. They keep papers going back for quite some time.’

  Rory groaned, ‘So our man could have got off at either of those two places.’

  ‘I am unclear if passengers disembarked there,’ I said. ‘From what I read I thought they were merely taking on provisions.’

  ‘As if that would stop someone like Fitzroy jumping ship if he wanted to.’

  ‘I see your point of view,’ I said. ‘This is hopeless, isn’t it?’

  And as if in harmony with my mood the skies suddenly opened and rain poured down. We were both in hats and coats, but the sudden deluge was extreme.

  ‘This way!’

  Rory took me by the hand and pulled me into what can only loosely be described as a tearoom. The windows were thick with mist from the huge boiling metal geysers which were used for supplying what turned out to be the thickest tea I have ever tasted. Small wipe-down tables were packed close together. There were no chairs, only benches. The air was rich with the spicy language of the dockers, who sat in rough, working clothes hunched over enormous cups of tea. If Richard Stapleford had not been so free in his language I think I would have fainted at some of the expressions I heard. As it was I merely felt my ears glow a bit.

  Rory deposited me at a secluded table and went to buy us some tea. This was not the sort of place where orders were taken at the table. In fact I am sure Bertram would rather have been soaked to the skin than enter such a lower-class establishment. I rubbed a patch clear on the window with my glove and looked out. The rain appeared to be coming down in sheets. I could just make out the shipping office. There was no sign of Bertram.

  Rory came back with two large mugs and a plate with thickly sliced bread and dripping. The bread and dripping tasted good on such a cold and wet day and I tucked in eagerly. However, after one cautious sip of the tea, I decided I would rather like to keep the enamel on my teeth, and used the mug only to warm my hands.

  ‘It is a bit much even for me,’ said Rory.

  ‘Mrs Deighton used to say strong tea put hairs on your chest,’ I recalled. ‘I never quite saw how that was meant to be an inducement for me to drink it.’

  Rory smiled, a genuine smile. It changed his whole face and lit up those glorious green eyes of his. ‘If that’s the case I think this is designed to make you grow fur,’ he said.

  ‘I suppose that might be useful if you are working on the docks in all weathers,’ I said.

  Rory grunted and took another glug at his tea. I looked around me. I was beginning to feel a little more comfortable. Now we were settled with food and no one had asked us our business, I felt I could raise my eyes from the table and take stock of the room.

  As well as the dockers, who were obviously in for a warm between shifts, I saw a few small huddled groups of men, women, and children. They each had a battered suitcase or a bundle at their feet.

  ‘Passengers?’ I asked Rory.

  ‘Perhaps, third class I imagine. Or it could be people waiting hoping someone has a ticket or two they can’t use.’

  ‘Does that happen often?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Rory. ‘But they are some folk who are desperate to try and start a new life abroad. I wouldnae be surprised if you found some of the poorer types came down here on the off chance they could get a ticket or maybe even find someone who would let them work passage. These big liners need as many crew as they have passengers, and some of them, like the engine stokers and cleaners, don’t exactly need to be skilled. Willing is more important.’

  ‘Some people do manage to stow away.’

  ‘I think not often,’ said Rory, ‘but yes, the ships are so big, and there are so many people milling around when they are being loaded, it would be all too easy to get aboard. It would be hiding until out at sea that would be the hard part.’

  ‘How would you get on board?’ I asked curiously.

  ‘Oh, I’d pick up a sack of rice or something going to the kitchens. Follow the other loaders. Deliver the sack, and then sneak off to hide myself. The problem being I’d only have what had in my pockets to bring with me. I could hardly carry a suitcase on too. I’d have to be very desperate to do it, but there are folks starving, and when you’re that poor I reckon you might not think you have a lot to lose. As long as you don’t steal anything, if you’re caught in the dock the worst thing that is going to happen to you is you get a warm night in a police cell.’

  I reflected unhappily that, much as I might despise Richard Stapleford, if he had not given me my original employment, my mother, brother, and I would have faced destitution.

  ‘Och, don’t look so serious, lass. The tea’s not that bad. Drink up. It’s time we went and met Bertram at his rendezvous. I wonder how badly it’s gone.’

  I opted to leave the better part of my tea. The rain had eased to a fine drizzle. Rory and I made our way back to one of the official viewing areas and waited, under an awning, for him to arrive. We moved back towards the shadows so as not to draw attention to ourselves.

  It was cold enough to make me shiver. I began to regret not drinking the warming tea. ‘Where is he?’ I muttered.

  Rory took out a small pocket watch. ‘He’s late,’ he said. ‘Maybe he has had more success than we thought.’

  I rubbed my hands together to try and keep warm. Time passed. Bertram did not appear. Rory checked his pocket watch again.

  ‘I think we may have a problem,’ he said.

  [16] His father, as you may remember, had been a greengrocer.

  Chapter Seventeen

  In which Bertram proves to be a problem

  ‘Even Bertram cannot have got into trouble in an office,’ I said.

  ‘It is what he did on the way there or back that worries me,’ said Rory. ‘I think it would be best if you stayed here. I will go to the office and ask after him.’

  ‘I agree,’ I replied. Rory’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. ‘I see reason in keeping sightings of us separate. It makes us harder to trace. That is if we are presuming something nefarious has gone on in or around the office.’

  Rory nodded. ‘Let us hope Bertram has simply forgotten where we were meant to meet. I think you should go back to the automobile.’

  I shook my head. ‘No, I am going to find a vantage spot where I can watch you enter the shipping office.’

  ‘And see if anyone escorts me out?’

  ‘Exactly.’

  ‘Please stay out of sight,’ said Rory. ‘If I do not return you will need to summon a constable.’ He frowned. ‘I mean that, Euphemia. No trying to come to the rescue. It would only end up with us all in trouble.’

  I smiled in agreement. In truth, I knew I would determine what to do depending on the situation that presented itself. Rory knows me very well and he reiterated his point several times.
/>
  ‘You are wasting time,’ I said. ‘Bertram could be in real trouble. You know how weak his heart is.’

  ‘Dammit,’ muttered Rory. ‘Damn Fitzroy.’ And he strode off without a backward glance.

  It was with some nervousness that I watched the office door. However, after a few minutes Rory came back out. He nodded with his head and I moved off in the direction he had indicated. We met up out of the sight of the office windows.

  ‘They claim he was never there,’ he said.

  ‘But that’s ridiculous,’ I said. ‘We saw him go in.’

  ‘Short of hauling the clerk over the counter and threatening him there was nothing I could do. He flatly denied it.’

  I made a noise of annoyance.

  ‘I am not Fitzroy, Euphemia. I am not in the habit of physically assaulting people.’

  ‘But Bertram’s life may be in danger.’

  ‘Indeed. I suggest we summon a constable,’ said Rory seriously.

  ‘Why?’ I asked.

  ‘To help us,’ said Rory slowing his words as if speaking to an idiot.

  ‘And we shall say your master, who I have been travelling with alone, and to whom I am no relation, has entered the shipping office and disappeared? Despite what the clerk there thinks?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Do you think that there is even of the vaguest chance of us being thought reliable, decent citizens? Let alone our contrary and unusual story being believed?’

  ‘You think they are more likely to arrest us for murdering him? That we are intending to run off with one another?’

  ‘Something like that. Though admittedly we would have to be very stupid to draw attention to his disappearance.’

  ‘Or very cocky,’ said Rory.

  ‘At least you see my point.’

  ‘Yes, I shall have to investigate myself.’

  ‘Even if we manage to convince the police of our pure intent it will take too much time … wait, what did you say? You cannot go off alone. You will be captured.’

  ‘Thank you for your confidence in me,’ said Rory, coldly. ‘I am neither as naïve nor as trusting as Bertram.’