by C. G Oster
"Because the situation has become untenable, I would guess. This is damage control." Lady Pettifer sat down heavily at the dressing table. "Perhaps he is hoping the Commissioner will make things go away. They know each other. Go see what is happening," Lady Pettifer said.
Dory swallowed the discomfort constricting her throat at the assignment. Last time she had been told to go spy, things had gone disastrously—cementing the chasm between her and the rest of the staff. Well, what was the point of worrying now? There was the warning DI Ridley had given her to stay out of sight, but curiosity got the better of her. The Commissioner of Police had turned up out of the blue. This had to signify something monumental. "Fine," she said guardedly.
With effort, she could be discreet about this, and hopefully, no other people would cast accusation at her feet, or in her face, as was Vivian Fellingworth's style. Gingerly, she walked down the hall toward the landing above the main entrance.
"You shouldn't go there," Mavis said, her voice a harsh whisper. Dory hadn't seen her.
"Lady Pettifer wants to know what's going on."
Mavis sighed, her eyes as large as saucers. Even she sensed something serious was occurring. "Are they policemen?" she asked as they approached the landing and peeking around the corner. The entrance hall was filled with men. Some uniformed, but the man who looked like the Commissioner wasn't. He greeted Lord Wallisford as if seeing an old friend. What they were saying couldn't be heard, but they spoke with serious expressions before retreating into the study. The men stayed in the hall, seemingly with nothing to do but to look around.
"It is the Commissioner of Police," Dory said, "and his men, I suppose."
"The Commissioner?" Mavis said with surprise, exactly like Dory had done not so long ago. It was an outlandish concept on first hearing. "Is he here to help with the investigation?"
The answer was that Dory didn't think so. There was a knot in her stomach that grew tighter. But then maybe the Commissioner got involved when crime included prominent members of the aristocracy. Perhaps this wasn't surprising at all. Then again, Lady Pettifer's reaction suggested something less straightforward.
Ridley appeared, having been summoned and he was called to the study. It was quiet downstairs, everyone there was excluded from the conversation going on behind closed doors. Mr. Holmes was standing completely expressionless, but Dory could tell he didn't like all these intruders in the house.
She drew her head back before she was noticed. There was no point observing until something was happening. Mavis was standing with her hands to her mouth. "They know who the murderer is, don't they?" She looked shaken as if the thought of there being a murderer in the house had just occurred to her.
"I don't know," Dory said honestly.
The door opened and Dory peeked past the corner again. Ridley was leaving through the main doors. He wasn't going back downstairs to finish his interviews; he was leaving. In her heart, she knew he wasn't coming back.
Dory ran to the servants' staircase and flew downstairs, through the basement and out the kitchen door.
Rounding the corner of the house, she saw him walking toward his car, the length of his coat flaring in the wind. When he turned toward the car door, she could see the drawn and unhappy expression on his face. Whatever had occurred in the study, he wasn't happy about it.
"You're leaving?" Dory asked.
"I've been taken off the case."
"How can they do that? This is your case."
"It is the Commissioner's case now. I have been told to relinquish everything to do with this case and return to London immediately."
"They can't do that."
"It is the Commissioner. What he says goes."
Dory didn't know what to say, or what this meant. "They're just going to sweep it away?"
"I don't know," Ridley said. "He didn't tell me what he intends to do." There was a bitterness in his voice.
"This can't be right. We must tell the papers or something. They can't just get away with it."
"It's not my concern anymore," Ridley said tightly. "You should leave here," he said before stepping into his car and closing the door. The car started, but he didn't drive off yet; instead, he rolled down the driver's window. "It was Cedric that drove the car that pushed Tilda Turman off the road. The administration at Cambridge confirmed he'd been invited and attended a luncheon there. He had been drinking a fair bit from what I was told."
Rolling up the window again, he gave her a salute before driving off down the long road through the estate. Cedric, Dory repeated in her head. Cedric was responsible, but he had definitely not been here when Nora died, so Ridley had been right; the two incidents were not committed by the same person.
Crossing her arms around her, Dory didn't know what to do. Everything had turned upside down, and now they knew partially who was responsible, the family had called for reinforcements in guise of the Commissioner. Surely they couldn't simply ignore this?
Guardedly, Dory returned to the house and went straight to Lady Pettifer's room, partially because she wanted to be out of sight, but also because she felt she had to impart what she'd just learnt with Lady Pettifer.
Dory found her sitting by the window, looking calm and collected.
"Detective Ridley has been dismissed," Dory said as the woman looked at her expectantly. "Lord Wallisford and the Commissioner are conferencing in the study." Well, they had been last she had seen.
"I see," Lady Pettifer said, putting her hands together.
Taking a breath, Dory steadied himself. "And he said," and she wasn't entirely sure he was allowed to impart this knowledge, "that it was Cedric that had been driving the car that forced Tilda Turman off the road, that he had been to a luncheon at Cambridge and he'd been drinking."
Lady Pettifer remained still and silent, her mouth drawn tight. She blinked a couple of times. "I see," she said again. "But he wasn't responsible for Nora."
"No. Can they really hide this?" Dory asked. "Can the Commissioner just make the whole investigation go away?"
"The Commissioner is an honorable man," Lady Pettifer said. "My brother has obviously decided that he needs to take this in hand. He can be willfully ignorant when he can get away with it, but he's not a stupid man. Oh, Cedric, you stupid, stupid boy. If he'd just done the right thing and reported his accident and the consequences to that poor girl, none of this would have happened.”
Livinia burst through the door, making Dory's heart stop with the suddenness of it. Tears were flowing down her cheeks. “What is happening? They're saying they're here because Mama is responsible for this heinous thing."
To Dory, this couldn't be more shocking, but Lady Pettifer wasn't surprised. She'd already identified who the culprit was. Lady Wallisford had murdered Nora Sands. The truth was too astounding to process.
Livinia was overwrought. "I don't understand. Do something. Papa needs to do something," the girl said as she flew into her aunt's lap. The confident and arrogant girl Dory had always seen was gone now—now crying uncontrollably. Lady Pettifer stroked her head.
"They're saying she killed that girl. I don't believe it. How could they say such vile things?" Livinia sobbed and Lady Pettifer sighed.
Dory felt out of place, as if she shouldn't be witnessing this. Things weren't exactly being swept under the carpet, it seemed. Lady Wallisford was being accused, and what evidence they have, Dory didn't know. The woman had killed Nora because Nora had found out about Cedric's accident, and Nora must have confronted Lady Wallisford with it.
Cedric's accident hadn't been intended, even if he was fully culpable, so it wasn't as if he would hang for it, but Lady Wallisford had felt it was worth murdering the accuser rather than let it come to light. The callousness of it stung. Poor Nora, having lost her life in seeking justice for Tilda Turman.
Chapter 31
The Commissioner and his men left without carting anyone off. Lady Wallisford had taken to her room and refused to come out, being tended to by Mavis for all meals. L
ivinia stayed in her room, and Cedric sat and smoked in the library. Otherwise, the house was quiet. No one seemed to know what was going on or what they should do, so the staff went about their business as if nothing had happened.
There was a general silence in the house where no one spoke and no one seemed to want the company of anyone else. The house felt drained of all energy, as if a battle had been commenced and lost. Dory felt drained as well. She tended to Lady Pettifer and stayed in her room where they seldom spoke. No one came or went from the house. Vivian stayed away wherever it was he had gone.
In the afternoon, Lady Pettifer conferred with the lordship inside his study for a good hour and Dory could tell that something had been decided. Soon after, Cedric was called in and the discussion continued. Dory didn't get to see him come out again because she needed to see to Lady Pettifer.
"Lady Wallisford is to be sent to Switzerland," she said when they entered her room. "A sanitorium."
Dory absorbed the news.
"She's not mad, of course—just ambitious and ruthless. One should perhaps understand that she was protecting the reputation and future of her son—but to murder an innocent girl… That really is beyond the pale. My brother has agreed with the Commissioner that she be sent away." She wasn't looking at Dory, instead twisting the bottles of perfume and face cream on her dresser. "Maybe one has to be a bit mad to do what she did. It may be less than she deserves, but it would be difficult to hang a lady. This is seen as a better solution. She will be trialed in absentia. It will be quick and there will be a scandal. Cedric will have to account for his part in this. There will be some reparations to the family, I expect."
Standing where she was, Dory didn't know how to respond. In a way, Lady Wallisford was getting off with a much lighter sentence than anyone else would, but she was to lose her family, her standing and her freedom. No doubt the environment will be nicer than anything she would experience at His Majesty's pleasure, but it was still punishment. What impact this would have on Cedric's political career, Dory didn't dare guess.
"And you, my dear," Lady Pettifer said, looking at her through the mirror.
"Me?"
"Your part in this investigation has hardly gone unnoticed."
"I didn't really do anything," Dory said, "beside speak to a handsome detective every once in a while."
Lady Pettifer smiled, but the events were too recent for there to be much levity to it. "We have discussed what to do with you."
Dory frowned. What to do with her? What was there to do with her? "I assumed I would be leaving. I don't think there can be any question of staying."
Lady Pettifer shifted her head as she considered Dory. “The scandal will, of course, mean that you will be hounded by journalists. This will be quite a scandal, made much worse if someone discusses it. Everyone will want to hear your account of this."
Swallowing, Dory looked away. She hadn't anticipated this, but now that Lady Pettifer mentioned it, it was logical. Dory had no interest in speaking about this to journalists, her name and picture in the papers. People whispering as she passed on the street. That sounded awful. "I have no interest in speaking of this."
"I didn't think so, but your life could become quite unpleasant here for a while—at least until things blow over. Hence, I think it is best that you come with me for a while—to France."
Dory blinked. "France?"
"I don't need a maid, but you can be my companion. It is a frightfully old-fashioned position, but I think you would enjoy it. It shouldn’t prove onerous for you."
Images flashed through her mind, but she really had no idea what to expect.
Lady Pettifer continued. "I hadn't intended on leaving for another month, but circumstances suggest we should be flexible. My brother is to take Cedric up to Scotland for the shooting season. Livinia will come with us. Wallisford Hall will be closed down probably until next year. It is up to you, of course, if you wish to come or not. It would be a pleasure to have you, and it will give you a chance to work on your French."
"My French is poor."
Lady Pettifer smiled. "You'll have a long sea journey to brush up on it. Think about it and give me your answer tomorrow. We will be leaving very soon." With a dismissive nod, Dory was asked to leave and she did.
France. What an outlandish notion. What in the world would she do in France, and what did a companion do? Still, it was an opportunity to see the world outside of Swanley and Quainton. The thought of journalists hounding her everywhere she went, made the idea of going to London much less attractive. The idea of them milling around outside her mother's house was even worse. Perhaps in her wisdom, Lady Pettifer had arranged a merciful alternative.
Dory was going to France. Excitement bubbled up like nervousness in her belly. It was nice to see something beyond the heaviness that plagued this house and the despicable act that had ended a young woman's life for reasons Dory could never truly get her head around. It seemed so outrageous. But then she didn't want to spend more time thinking of Lady Wallisford and her dark, selfish motives. Too much of her time had been dedicated to it and now it was a pleasure to think of something else. France. Who would have thought?
*
Lady Wallisford was taken away the next day. George had been asked to prepare the car and it stood waiting outside for her to emerge from the house. This was a family event, so no staff were in attendance other than George. Even Mr. Holmes was asked not to witness Lady Wallisford's departure. That wasn't to say that there weren't people hiding behind every set of curtains in that part of the house, watching with morbid curiosity.
Livinia and Cedric stood outside waiting, while Lady Pettifer was seeing Lady Wallisford down the stairs. Dory watched from Lady Pettifer's window, both needing to watch and wanting not to. She felt like she owed it to Nora to witness this.
Lady Wallisford wore a cream suit with a fur collar and a hat. She looked as if prepared for a day shopping in London, refusing to bow to circumstances. How long she would be gone from here, Dory didn't know. She deserved to be cast away from her home and family for what she had done, and she would be. Dory couldn't regret her not being hanged, as it was a brutal form of punishment in her book.
Down below, Livinia cried and Cedric looked ashen. That had to be the true punishment for Lady Wallisford, but her pride refused to let her respond, or to dent her pride. Unheard things were said and then Lady and Lord Wallisford were driven away.
There was a finality to this, the ending of something and the prevailing of justice. Dory hoped that Nora was pleased with this outcome. She seemed a sensible girl and Dory identified with her wish to seek justice for Tilda Turman. Justice—it was an important thing.
Backing away from the window, Dory sighed. She had only been at Wallisford Hall a few weeks, but it felt much longer. In the beginning, she had been grudgingly invited, then unwanted. Helping DI Ridley had felt important; it had felt necessary and something she would not have been able to walk away from. How could someone live with themselves by not doing all they could when something happened to someone like Nora—and Tilda. These were not lives to be used up and thrown away in other people's carelessness and discard. They should certainly not be swept away for someone's ambition. Right had prevailed and Dory was pleased. A wrong had been righted and she was glad she lived in a world where that happened.
Chapter 32
Dory couldn't believe she was going to France. All of a sudden, she had a path before her where she had previously felt trapped and uncertain. And they were apparently leaving very soon. Lady Pettifer wasn't wasting time, but Livinia was lamenting having to pack up so quickly.
The staff were also busy, given orders to shut down the house. Dory didn't know exactly what would happen to them, whether they would follow Lord Wallisford north for the shooting season, or perhaps some would be sent to the townhouse in Belgravia until they were needed.
There was a small sense in Dory that felt responsible for breaking this house and family apart, b
ut she was not the one that had murdered Nora Sands. And technically, it was DI Ridley that held Lady Wallisford to account, even if he had eventually been dismissed from the case. Still, it was difficult not to feel some measure of responsibility.
Saying that, she didn't tolerate others placing blame on her. That might be hypocritical, but she didn't care.
Mavis and Clara were busy flaring white sheets across the furniture in the salon. Cedric was still in the parlor, nursing a whiskey, while Livinia expressed her unhappiness at the of events. Mr. Holmes attended to them while everyone else ran around and prepared for the departure.
"I guess we won't be seeing you here again," Larry said as Dory made her way out to the bench by the kitchen garden to warm herself with the sunshine and to escape the uncomfortable feeling in the house. Nothing was spoken, but she was treated like a pariah, a person everyone was wary of. Unjust, but it hurt all the same. No good deed goes unpunished, they say.
"No, I don't think so," she responded. "I am to follow Lady Pettifer."
"She seems alright."
"Yes, she is."
"Well, good luck with everything. I think you've been the shortest duration servant of this house."
"That's something to pride myself over, isn't it?"
Larry laughed. "No sign of that DI, then?"
"I understand he's been sent back to London."
"And now everyone leaves. It's right lonely here when everyone goes."
"So you have to stay?"
"Can't take the garden with them, can they?"
"No, I suppose not."
"All the flowers blooming and no one to see them."
Again, Dory felt a wave of responsibility. "You will see them."
"Best get on," Larry said. "The grass waits for no man. We’re mowing today. A hell of a task." With his hands in his pockets, he wandered off, giving a quick finger salute before disappearing out of sight. Dory should be getting on as well. There was only an hour left until they left. Her things were packed, which wasn't hard when everything she had fit neatly into one small suitcase.