The Bloomsbury Affair

by Anita Davison

  ‘We might have no choice but to call them,’ Bunny said gravely. ‘We cannot pretend—’

  ‘I’m glad you came to us, Eddy.’ Flora shot Bunny a warning look. ‘I mean Ed. Now, first things first. When is Jocasta expecting you? I mean is she likely to raise the alarm when you don’t arrive?’

  ‘I doubt it.’ He kept his head down, muffling his voice. ‘I didn’t make a specific arrangement. She never minds my turning up whenever I feel like it.’

  Flora sighed, relieved she would not have to deal with a frantic Jocasta demanding they instigate a search for her lost brother. ‘But Bunny’s right, Ed. We shall have to call the police.’

  ‘No!’ He jerked his head up and stared at each of them in turn. ‘They’ll lock me up, I know they will.’

  ‘You have to see it from their point of view.’ Bunny stroked his chin with one hand, something he always did when thinking. ‘A dead man in a compartment, you bending over him with blood on your hand – literally. Think how it must have looked?’

  ‘Blood?’ Flora gasped. ‘What blood? You didn’t mention any blood.’

  ‘Ed said there was a small amount on the chap's shirt,’ Bunny said.

  ‘Not much,’ Ed qualified, as if this was important. ‘More a spot really, no bigger than a half crown. I didn’t notice it until I touched him.’ Ed rubbed the palm of his right hand with the fingers of his left as if a stain remained, but his hand was clean.

  ‘This man didn’t die of natural causes then?’ Flora said.

  ‘Which is what I don’t understand.’ Ed’s voice was almost a whine. ‘I was in the compartment all the time and didn’t see a thing.’

  ‘You must have seen something if you were the only one there.’ She darted a look at Bunny, who gave a warning shake of his head. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound accusing, but that doesn’t make sense. Had Ed been responsible, he wouldn’t have tried to wake the man. He would have simply left the train at the first opportunity, not wait for a guard to come along and challenge him. And don’t glare at me like that you two, of course Ed would never do such a thing. I was just speculating on what a real criminal would do.’ Flora had known Ed his whole life and there was not a malicious bone in his body.

  ‘The guard made an assumption based purely on what he saw,’ Bunny said, his arms crossed over his chest. ‘Or thought he saw. Even so, Ed, I’m afraid you made the situation worse by bolting.’

  ‘You’re not in a courtroom now, Bunny.’ Flora narrowed her eyes at him. ‘This is Ed we’re talking about, not a common criminal.’

  ‘I can’t be accused of murder.’ Ed’s voice rose in panic. ‘Even if I’m found innocent, the accusation will follow me for the rest of my life.’ He rubbed his hands up and down his thighs again, still rocking gently. ‘I’ll have to take a seat in the House of Lords one day.’

  ‘The situation is hardly favourable for the young man either,’ Bunny snapped. ‘He’s dead.’

  ‘Bunny!’ Flora glared at him, which he returned with a, ‘what can you expect’ look.

  ‘Oh, lord.’ Ed stopped rocking and chewed at a thumbnail. ‘I cannot believe this is happening. I didn’t hurt him, honestly!’

  ‘We know you didn’t!’ Flora smoothed his messy brown hair down on one side. ‘No one who knows you could possibly believe you capable of such a thing. What can you tell us about the dead man?’

  ‘What about him?’ Ed straightened, his tone sharp.

  ‘Describe him. Tall, short, fair or dark-haired?’

  ‘Ah, I see, yes.’ He relaxed again, chewing his bottom lip as he gave her question some thought. ‘Um, about my age, an inch taller perhaps. Brown hair, but darker than mine. His eyes were brown too, again darker. He wore a black suit but no waistcoat. I remember because the red bloodstain against his white shirt was such a shock.’

  ‘Do you have any idea as to what could have caused the blood?’ Flora asked.

  ‘Did I overlook the dagger sticking out of his chest do you mean?’ Ed curled his upper lip; his fear had apparently not spoiled his capacity for sarcasm. ‘No. All I saw was the stain on his shirt.’

  ‘This stain, was it wet or dry?’ Bunny asked.

  ‘Er… damp, I think, but it looked fresh.’

  ‘Could he have been ill?’ Flora asked. ‘Consumption makes you spit blood, doesn’t it?’

  ‘How should I know?’ Ed snapped with barely restrained impatience. Or was it panic? ‘He seemed perfectly healthy to me.’

  Chastised, Flora eased away, giving Bunny a ‘you try’ look.

  Nodding, Bunny took the space on the sofa on the other side of Ed and twisted to face him. ‘Let’s go back a bit. Did this chap tell you his name?’

  ‘It was, Leo. Leo Thompson.’ Ed worried a loose strand of cotton protruding from a button on his cuff.

  ‘Now we’re getting somewhere.’ Bunny kept his voice low. ‘Did you talk during the journey?’

  ‘Sort of.’ Ed shrugged. ‘Trivial stuff mostly. Polite passing of the time, that sort of thing.’

  ‘Did he say where he was going in town and why?’ Bunny asked.

  ‘Um… I’m not sure.’

  ‘It was a two-hour journey, Ed, you must have talked about something more than the weather.’

  ‘We didn’t mention the weather,’ Ed said dully.

  Flora bit back a sharp remark, losing patience with his vague answers. She admired Bunny’s calm tone, but then, as a lawyer, he was used to extracting information from witnesses. Left to her, she would have shaken the details out of Ed.

  ‘Did Leo say anything which might indicate where he came from?’ Bunny asked.

  ‘He mentioned the shop.’

  ‘Which shop, Ed?’ Flora took a deep breath to calm her growing frustration.

  ‘His mother owns Thompson’s. Not that I’ve ever been there.’ His expression implied the very idea of such a thing as ridiculous.

  ‘You mean the haberdashery in the Promenade?’ Flora asked. ‘Why didn’t you say that before?’

  Ed shrugged.

  ‘He was a local to Cheltenham then, which is definitely something we can work with.’ Bunny nodded, thoughtful. ‘There were just the two of you in the carriage for the whole journey?’

  ‘Yes. We had the compartment to ourselves.’

  ‘You came first class?’ Flora asked.

  ‘Well of course!’ Ed glared at her as if affronted. ‘How else?’

  ‘How crass of me to suggest otherwise?’ She rolled her eyes, but at the same time was intrigued. Thompson’s was a medium-sized establishment selling needlework supplies and fabrics, not a vast emporium. Would a haberdasher travel first class?

  ‘I’m sorry to be vague.’ Ed held his hands out, palms upwards. ‘But seeing him like that, dead. And then all the fuss at the station. I—’ He straightened, eyes wide and a hand to his forehead. ‘Blast! I completely forgot. ‘He stared at each of them in turn. ‘I left my suitcase on the overhead rack in the compartment. My name and address are inside.’

  ‘Oh, Ed.’ Ignoring his colourful language, Flora closed her eyes and tried not to sigh. ‘Maybe someone won’t make the connection and will take it to the lost property office?’

  ‘I doubt it.’ Bunny raised a cynical eyebrow. ‘The police will most likely have it by now.’ He glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece. ‘It’s after midnight, so I doubt Inspector Maddox would still be at the police station. I’ll telephone him first thing tomorrow. Hopefully, he’ll be sympathetic.’

  ‘Do you have to?’ Ed pleaded.

  ‘He’ll help you, Ed. He knows us.’ Flora tried to be reassuring, despite the inspector’s disapproval of her involvement in murder investigations. ‘We’ve helped his career no end, what with his name being in the papers for weeks over the Evangeline Lange murder, not to mention our latest venture, the child trafficking case.’

  ‘Or he feels he could have done it without us,’ Bunny added.

  ‘You sound disapproving.’ Flora frowned up at him. ‘I thoug
ht you enjoyed our ventures into amateur sleuthing?’

  ‘Your ventures. I tend to get dragged along to clear up afterwards.’ He smiled to show he didn’t quite mean that as it sounded. ‘And Maddox is our best chance at the moment. I’m not a criminal lawyer, at least not yet, but I might know someone in my firm who can help.’

  ‘I’ll need a lawyer?’ Ed swallowed nervously.

  ‘As a precaution only.’ Bunny’s tone remained gentle but doubt filled his eyes. ‘And, Flora, don’t mention to the inspector we’ve been going through Ed’s story, or he’ll think we’ve coached him. His version needs to sound spontaneous.’

  ‘All I care about is helping Ed,’ Flora insisted. ‘What Maddox might think is the least of my concerns.’

  ‘Why?’ Ed’s frown held suspicion. ‘What does he think of you?’

  ‘That I’m a meddling amateur.’ Flora sniffed. ‘Worse, a female one, and therefore the most reprehensible kind.’ In fact, Flora enjoyed an amicable, yet competitive relationship with the inspector, who issued regular warnings about the perils of meddling in police business, while also benefitting from her investigative skills.

  ‘Actually, he thinks a good deal of you, Flora.’ Bunny shoved both hands in his pockets, grinning. ‘The night you were locked inside that barge by the child smugglers with Ruth Lazerus, Maddox became frantic at the idea you might be hurt.’

  ‘He has an odd way of showing it.’ Flora muttered, sceptical. The notion of the handsome, if supercilious Inspector Maddox being sentimental had never occurred to her. She stared up at Bunny through her lashes. ‘Was he really worried about me?’

  ‘What do you think? It took two constables to restrain him from hitting the woman when they finally caught her.’

  ‘Really? And how many did it take to stop you from dashing to my aid?’

  ‘Oh, at least five. But I put up a good fight.’

  ‘I’m still here, you know!’ Ed’s impatient protest cut across them. ‘And exactly how many policemen do the two of you know?’

  ‘Don’t be sharp, Ed.’ Flora chastised him gently. ‘Trust us, we’ve dealt with this sort of thing before.’

  ‘You won’t tell Papa what’s happened, will you?’ He split a fearful look between them.

  ‘We shan’t send them any telegrams if that’s what you’re thinking,’ Bunny said. ‘When do your parents return from New York?’

  ‘I’m not sure, though I expect they’ll be back in time to arrange the house party next month. Mama likes to fuss over every detail, even though the staff do all the work.’

  ‘About a week then.’ Flora had almost forgotten the house party at Cleeve Abbey to celebrate Lady Amelia’s first summer in England since her marriage. Lady Emerald, their second daughter, would also be there with her husband and two young sons, as well as the youngest, Lady Jocasta, with Jeremy and their toddler, Mabel. Flora had been looking forward to it, not least because it would give her a chance to show off their baby son, Arthur, now a year old and taking his first steps.

  Ed’s noisy yawn reminded Flora of the lateness of the hour and brought back her fatigue.

  ‘You look as worn out as I feel, Ed. We’ll let you get some sleep and we’ll talk again in the morning.’ She eased him to his feet. ‘Take the blue guest room, you know where it is. There hasn’t been time to air it properly, but I’ll ask Stokes to make sure you have plenty of linens.’ Reverting to practical matters distracted her briefly from Ed’s frightening situation.

  Bunny opened the convex glass door of the clock on the mantelpiece at his elbow. ‘Flora’s right, Ed. You need to get some sleep. All this might look less daunting in the morning.’ He inserted the key into the hole in the centre of the face and wound the mechanism; the sound of the ratchets clicking into place was a reassuring one and his last routine task of the day.

  ‘Thank you, both of you,’ Ed said as they entered the hall. ‘It’s been such an awful day, I cannot believe how everything got out of hand so quickly. I didn’t relish spending the night in the chauffeur’s room either. Timms was very obliging, but he’s too tall for that sofa of his. His knees barely fit inside the arms.’

  It wouldn’t have occurred to Edward, Viscount Trent, to volunteer to take the sofa and leave the bed to Timms.

  ‘You go on up,’ Bunny whispered, hanging back. ‘I’ll go through my list of criminal lawyers and select a couple. Just in case.’ He squeezed Flora’s arm before he strode along the hall to his study.

  Flora watched Ed’s retreating back as he mounted the stairs, her foot lifted to the first step to follow and she caught sight of her reflection in the hall mirror and groaned. The dress Bunny had said flattered her earlier had made her skin sallow and her eyes dull with anxiety.

  It wasn’t just exhaustion that lined her face. Her enthusiasm for a new and interesting case was overwhelmed by dismay. Ed’s story did nothing to contradict the station guard’s assumption. Unless they could find out exactly what had happened to Leo Thompson on that train, it seemed likely the police would accept the most obvious explanation. In which case, she and Bunny were Ed’s only chance.

  Sighing, she arched her neck, easing the stiffness that had worsened since Ed’s arrival, and dragged her feet wearily up the stairs.

  Chapter 3

  Understandably, Ed lacked his usual good humour when he arrived at the breakfast table next morning, with dragging feet and eyes as dull as brown paint. He wore the same suit he had on the day before over a freshly laundered and ironed shirt which Stokes had obligingly fetched from Bunny’s tailor that morning. Flora explained to Stokes that Ed had lost his luggage, so the butler had offered to go shopping for new shirts, socks and undergarments. At least Ed would look respectable for his interview with the police.

  ‘How are you this morning?’ Flora asked, knowing the answer. ‘Did you manage to get any sleep?’

  ‘Not much, though I must have dropped off eventually.’ He dragged out a chair, removed the magazine from beneath his arm and slapped it onto the table. ‘I’m starving. I hardly ate anything yesterday.’ He continued on to the sideboard and helped himself from the row of bains-marie lined up there.

  Flora watched him with an indulgent smile. She had never been able to eat cooked meat first thing in the morning, but her menfolk seemed unable to start the day without it.

  ‘This inspector chap.’ Ed swiped a bread roll from the basket, breaking it open on his side plate. ‘Is he a straight arrow? He won’t listen to my story then arrest me anyway?’

  ‘We don’t know what he’ll do,’ Flora replied. ‘But he’s smarter than he looks, so be respectful and he’ll give you a fair hearing.’

  ‘Flora’s right,’ Bunny said, arriving in time to hear this last remark. ‘Maddox won’t do anything until he’s sure of the facts.’ He patted Ed on the shoulder on his way to the sideboard where he loaded a plate with fried bacon and tomatoes.

  ‘Did you manage to get through to the inspector?’ Flora accepted the kiss he pressed to her cheek on his way back to the table.

  ‘I did. He knew all about the body on the train but has agreed to keep an open mind until he hears what Ed has to say.’ Bunny scraped his chair closer to the table and opened the neatly folded copy of The Times Stokes had set beside his place. ‘Have you remembered anything else from yesterday?’ he asked Ed from behind the broadsheet.

  ‘Like what?’ Ed replied, setting a plate of miniature sausages and scrambled eggs on the table.

  ‘Anything,’ Flora said. ‘The smallest detail could make a difference.’

  ‘I told you everything last night.’ He speared a sausage with his fork, twisting it from side to side. ‘Are these the real thing? They’re very small.’

  Flora smiled, relieved Ed could still be distracted by food. ‘They’re called chipolatas. They come from Italy, or is it France?’ She shrugged. ‘I doubt it matters. Mrs Cope likes them because they cook much quicker than the ordinary ones.’

  Ed peered at the fork before shoving the
meat into his mouth and chewed. ‘They’re good. A little spicy too.’

  Bunny clicked his tongue, causing Ed to look up quickly from his plate, a bulge in one cheek and his eyes huge. ‘I’m afraid you’ve made the newspapers.’ He folded it to the appropriate page and slid it across the table.

  ‘I don’t want to read it.’ Ed’s knuckles whitened on his cutlery.

  ‘Let me see.’ Flora slid the paper towards her, where beneath a heading of Police Seek Killer Who Fled Scene at Paddington, a paragraph outlined what they already knew. The report had not included Ed’s name, only that a young man had been pursued inside the station by the Transport Police but had ultimately fled the scene. An appeal had been made for witnesses to come forward. She flicked a look at Bunny, then laid down the paper. ‘I suggest we change the subject.’

  Bunny poured himself coffee, then held the pot up in enquiry. ‘What shall we talk about?’

  ‘For one thing we have a wedding to go to later this week,’ Flora said. ‘You remember my friend, Lydia Grey, Ed? She’s marrying Harry Flynn at last.’

  ‘Lydia,’ Ed tried the word out on his tongue. ‘Ah, I remember now. She’s the schoolteacher who helps you with your crime-fighting exploits.’

  ‘A slight exaggeration, but essentially correct.’ Flora recalled Ed had sported a permanent blush when they had been introduced that had lasted most of the afternoon.

  ‘Have I met this Harry chap?’ Ed asked.

  ‘I doubt it. He was Evangeline Lange’s fiancé, the young woman whose murder Flora and Lydia investigated two years ago,’ Bunny said. ‘Harry and Lydia were always friends, but since then they have grown close. Lydia has also been made headmistress of the school after the former incumbent was imprisoned for spying.’

  ‘What an exciting life you lead, Flora.’ Ed attempted a smile which did not reach his eyes. ‘Better than having to teach me about the repeal of the Corn Laws.’