‘That’s enough apologies, Ed and you’re welcome. See you in the morning.’ He waved him away, releasing a long sigh as the door closed behind him.
‘I do hope his faith in us isn’t misplaced.’
‘As do I,’ Flora murmured, biting her lip.
Was Maddox right and this affair was simpler than they imagined? Her theory that the Hunter-Griggs twins might wilfully deceive their elderly father in such a way would be unnaturally cruel. Despite her only having met him once, she couldn’t help liking Frederick, and was reluctant to assign him to the role of a killer. Perhaps his brother Francis, whom she had yet to meet was the more ruthless of the two? As she had discussed with Sally, she would need to pay The Dahlia Hotel another visit. The answer had to be there.
Chapter 27
Flora propped her elbows on her dressing table, her chin cupped in her palms as she stared at her reflection. Weariness settled on her as she listened to Bunny humming to himself in the dressing room next door. Where was the enthusiasm for the chase she had always experienced in previous cases, together with the anticipation of unearthing facts which threw light on an otherwise confusing puzzle? All she felt now was despair that a member of her own family was immersed in a murder. One which they were no closer to solving. She couldn’t even fathom who was guilty of what. Murder, impersonation or both? She reached to unfasten her diamond pendant but her fingers wouldn’t grip the slippery gold clasp.
‘Here, let me.’ Bunny emerged from next door and rushed forward. The chain slipped from round her neck and he dropped it into her open jewellery box.
‘Don’t lose hope, my love.’ He massaged her shoulders firmly with both hands. ‘Remember you aren’t responsible for what happens to Ed.’ The pressure of his fingers on her knotted muscles was painful at first, but rather than discourage him she gritted her teeth. As the knots in her neck loosened, she relaxed, melted into his touch and rolled her neck in a circle.
‘I know, but we’re involved now, and to fail would be the worst thing to happen to us. To all of us. You, me, the Trents, not to mention Ed.’
‘Inspector Maddox is more than capable of unearthing the truth. He’ll get to the bottom of this, you’ll see.’
‘I do hope so, but it’s so much more than that. I’ve never been this baffled by a case before. My theory doesn’t even make any sense. Why would the twins kill their half-brother only to replace him with a fake? Is it about money or something else? Perhaps Colonel Hunter-Griggs expressed a wish to see his son before he died and they came up with a deception because they didn’t know where to locate the real one?’
‘More likely it’s about the old man’s estate. Didn’t you say he wasn’t well last year and put his affairs in order?’
‘He did say as much, yes.’
‘Perhaps the twins think they can pay off this chap when it’s over. And by that, I mean when the old boy dies. Although I don’t fancy their chances if their tame villain gets greedy and won’t go quietly.’
‘Which is what I’m afraid of.’ She arched her neck to look up at him over her shoulder. ‘They’ll simply claim they had no idea he was an imposter, renounce him to Maddox and he’ll hang for killing Leo. Then they will still inherit all their father’s estate.’
‘Or Maddox is correct and the imposter was working alone?’
‘Alone how? He would have to know all about the Hunter-Griggs’ family situation. As far as we know, no one did. I still think the twins arranged it.’
‘I thought you said you were baffled?’ Bunny laughed and picked up a letter from the bed he had brought upstairs and broke the seal of an envelope with the words Burlington Hotel beneath an embossed emblem of a square building. ‘It’s from Mother,’ he explained in answer to her enquiring look, angling the pages towards an oil lamp placed on a chest of drawers.
‘Oh, dear, I know that tone of voice.’ Flora slowly removed the pins from her hair and dropped them onto the surface of the dresser. ‘Is she not enjoying the delights of Eastbourne?’
‘Something of the sort.’ He lowered the page and closed his eyes briefly. ‘I knew there would be trouble when Cousin Arabella proposed a holiday of bracing walks on the seafront.’
‘Does Beatrice dislike walking?’ Flora’s hairbrush halted in mid-air.
‘Hah! Mother hasn’t been on a bracing walk since next door’s dog chased her round the garden when I was ten.’
Flora smiled at the image this conjured inside her head. ‘Who goes to the south coast in April anyway? The weather is bound to be awful.’
‘It’s not the weather she’s complaining about, for once. It seems the company is not what she had hoped.’
‘But she and Arabella share a house in Chiswick and get on famously.’ Flora frowned, uncomprehending. ‘I’ve never heard your mother complain about her before.’
‘Not Cousin Arabella, the pair of them are cut from the same cloth. Mother says here, and I quote, “there are insufficient persons of consequence staying at our hotel. I would insist we move to the Cavendish had that awful pianist fellow and his paramour not taken up residence there.”’
‘What awful pianist fellow?’ Flora asked. ‘And who says “paramour” these days?’
He read further down the page. ‘Debussy, apparently. That Frenchman who ran off with the wife of some Parisian banker. Her son was once his student.’
‘Claude Debussy isn’t a pianist, he’s a composer and a very good one,’ Flora corrected him. ‘Didn’t his wife stand in the Place de la Concorde and shoot herself when he left her?’
‘Did she?’ He stared at her briefly. ‘Odd thing to do.’
‘She lived,’ Flora said. ‘But the scandal alienated Debussy from his friends.’
‘Which I suppose is why he’s now ensconced at the Cavendish Hotel with his mistress?’
‘I’m surprised Beatrice didn’t relocate to the Cavendish immediately instead of shunning the place.’
Bunny chuckled in agreement, his gaze scanning the page. ‘Oh, here’s something interesting. Listen to this. “That dreadful Lady Egerton is here with one of her young gamblers. They monopolize the dining room straight after supper and play card games into the night.”’
‘Lady Egerton? I’ve heard that name before, quite recently, now where was it?’ Flora tapped the hairbrush against her opposite hand, thinking.
‘Mother seems to know everyone. She goes on to say, “At least this particular suitor has the decency not to flirt with Lady Egerton openly in public, not like that Eric Paige character who stole a family heirloom from her at one of her parties and disappeared.”’ He glanced up from the page. ‘I’ve no idea to what she refers. I’ve never heard of a Lady Egerton.’
‘I have.’ Flora gasped. ‘In fact, her name has come up twice. Arnold Baines told me Lady Egerton was at the cross-country race. Her nephew went to Marlborough. There was something about a diamond bracelet being stolen.’
‘At the race?’ Bunny frowned at her reflection in the mirror.
‘No, not then, but a while ago if I remember correctly.’ She twisted on her stool to face him. ‘Lady Egerton is one of these society ladies who likes to entertain young men. I’m surprised your mother has never mentioned her before. She tends to home in on titles like a bat.’
‘Are you calling my mother a bat?’ Bunny glanced up from the page in mock horror.
‘As if I would dare.’ Flora smiled at him in her reflection and pulled the brush vigorously through her hair, as she trawled through the snippets of information they had thus far, looking for connections.
Leo being killed by vengeful schoolboys was no more credible than by someone who objected to his political leanings. Or had the Soviets regarded him as a threat to the Bolshevik party? Stabbing a man on a train was the sort of thing a Russian activist would do.
‘This case gets more complicated by the day,’ Bunny refolded the letter and stuffed it haphazardly back into the envelope. ‘What with Russians, schoolboy revenge pranks and imposte
rs in hotels. Now Mother’s gossip about jewellery robberies, I don’t know what’s relevant and what isn’t.’
‘A pity really.’ Flora held his gaze steadily in the mirror, ‘I was getting quite excited about a jewel thief who might have turned to murder.’
Well then, let’s not waste it.’ He tossed the letter over his shoulder caught her hand in his and hauled her off the stool and onto the bed. She gave a half protesting squeal as the silk coverlet slid halfway onto the floor on impact and bunched beneath her hips as she landed, face up.
‘Bunny, quiet. Ed will hear us.’ She slapped him away, but there was no real conviction behind it. ‘Is this really a good time?’
‘I don’t care.’ He laced the fingers of her left hand in his and nuzzled his lips into her neck, nipping gently at the skin behind her ear. ‘As for Ed, let him hear. He might learn something.’
*
At breakfast the next morning, Bunny had already left for the office when Stokes entered and handed Flora a note. ‘This came by messenger just now, madam.’
‘Thank you.’ She replaced her butter knife on her plate and examined an envelope which bore no markings other than her name on the front in William’s writing. She slid a thumbnail under the seal and withdrew a thin sheet of paper.
Flora, it began in his flowing masculine script. I have some information for you. I’ll be at the flowery place later this morning. Don’t ask for me, I’ll find you. W
‘Who’s it from?’ Ed asked through a mouthful of sausage.
‘Nothing important.’ Flora folded the page and slipped it into her pocket. ‘I might pay another visit to The Dahlia Hotel and see what I can find out.’
‘Not a bad idea. You could seek out this Leonard and trap him into revealing himself. It’s not as if your inspector chap is trying hard to establish my innocence.’
‘You shouldn’t underestimate Inspector Maddox, Ed. He has rules to follow, whereas we don’t. We shall have to tread carefully.’ Not that she planned to confront the imposter, simply take another look at him. ‘I’d like to take a discreet look round. See if I can take a closer look at this Leonard chap. I might take Sally with me. It wouldn’t do to be visiting an hotel on my own. I’d attract too much attention.'
‘I’d be more use to you than Sally.’ Ed wiped butter from his lips and threw his napkin onto the table. ‘I’m more likely to spot suspicious persons than she is.’
‘Actually, Sally has a talent for reading people. She can spot what she calls a “wrong’un” on first sight. Besides, Bunny is already annoyed with me for allowing you out of the house. You’ll likely be bored anyway.’
‘Aw come on, Flora. Since when did you ever do what’s expected? I remember when we had the heaviest snowfall in years and you and Jocasta wanted to meet friends at the Pump Rooms. Everyone said it could be dangerous, but you both went anyway.’
‘How did you remember that? You couldn’t have been more than eight. And it was mainly Jo’s idea, she talked me into it. We came out to find all the trams had been cancelled due to ice and we had to walk most of the way home in a blizzard. My dress was frozen solid from my knees and Jocasta caught a bad cold and was sick for days.’ She propped her chin in her hand as she recalled the memory. ‘I never saw snow as romantic after that.’
‘There, you see. Rebel Flora.’ He grinned.
‘Hmm.’ She softened, though at the same time was aware she was being manipulated. Then an image of William dressed as a Russian suddenly floated into her head and she straightened. ‘No, Ed. I can’t risk it. I’ll tell you if I find out anything when I get back.’
‘I can see you’ve made up your mind.’ He drew a fork over the tablecloth creating indentations on the linen. ‘Will Timms drive you?’
‘No. Enough people in this house know my movements already. I’ll take a hackney. If you would like to be helpful, perhaps you could ask Stokes to order one for half an hour’s time while I pay a visit to the nursery.’
‘Excuse me, madam,’ Stokes hovered at the door. ‘You have a visitor. I explained it was too early for morning calls, but—’
‘It’s quite all right, who is it?’ Flora hadn’t even heard the doorbell ring.
‘A lady, madam, name of Billings. She claims to be a doctor. I imagined such a case to be unlikely and asked her to leave, but she became quite insistent. I would say, strident.’
‘Stokes, you’re going to have to move with the times.’ Flora pushed back her chair and rose. ‘She is indeed a doctor, and an excellent one. Please show her into the sitting room. I’ll be there directly.’
‘If you say so, madam,’ he murmured darkly as he withdrew.
‘Ed, you stay here and finish your breakfast while I go and talk to her.’
‘I wasn’t going to suggest anything else.’ Ed spread a thick layer of butter on another roll.
*
‘This is an unexpected pleasure, Dr Grace,’ Flora glided forward to shake her visitor’s hand. ‘Please excuse my butler, he’s a little old-fashioned where women are concerned. There are times I too feel his disapproval.’
‘Most gentlemen of my acquaintance are the same. I’m in London for a couple of days to attend a meeting of the British Medical Association.’ Dr Grace resumed her seat in the wing-back chair in which she looked immediately at home. Her business-like skirt and jacket were a soft grey and plain to the point of masculinity, the hard lines softened by a white, high-necked blouse and a string of pearls. ‘I see you have eschewed the dark brown and forest greens prevalent in so many houses these days.’ Her shrewd gaze surveyed her surroundings like an auctioneer. ‘This wallpaper is delightfully light and pretty. Is it hand-painted?’
‘It is, yes.’ Flora stared at her in mild surprise. ‘It’s based on a Morris design called Hyacinth, but not quite so busy.’ She loved the soft blues and greens of the intertwined flowers and leaves. She had even asked the artist to add a few birds for interest. ‘Might I offer you some coffee?’
‘No thank you. I enjoyed a very satisfactory breakfast at the hotel.’ At Flora’s look of enquiry, she added, ‘Since your visit to the surgery the other day, I haven’t been able to get Sylvia Thompson out of my mind. Your questions made me rethink what happened. Knowing I was coming to town, I got your address from Kitty Tilney.’
‘I hope you don’t think I intended to cast doubt on your abilities as a doctor by questioning you about Sylvia’s illness?’
‘No, no, not at all.’ Dr Grace held up a hand silencing her. ‘But when you re-examine what appears to be a simple case, all sorts of nuances spring to mind. I’ve been over my notes several times since your visit, and there’s something not quite right about the whole incident.’
‘About Mrs Thompson?’ Flora eased forward on her seat, her pulse racing.
‘Not so much Sylvia, but the woman who accompanied her to the surgery that day. Now I think about it, Sylvia showed more anger than distress.’
‘Anger? Towards the woman?’
‘Yes. Her remark about being clumsy wasn’t directed at herself I think, but the woman with her. I only wish I had pursued it at the time, or at least asked the woman’s name.’
‘I doubt she would have revealed it if she was up to no good. Or not her real name anyway.’
‘Ah, that hadn’t occurred to me, but you are right.’
‘Did anything else about this woman strike you as odd?’
‘Not really.’ She frowned. ‘Except, well, you recall I told you Sylvia’s hand was bound when she arrived?’ At Flora’s nod, she continued, ‘The cloth used didn’t belong to Sylvia. When I cleaned and redressed her hand, I offered it back to her, Sylvia denied it was hers and said to throw it away.’
‘And did you?’
‘I’m afraid I did, yes. I didn’t even examine it properly as it seemed unimportant at the time.’
‘I see. I wish I knew if it’s relevant or not. Only—’ She shuffled closer. ‘You might think I’m being fanciful, but is it possible this woman
might have injured Sylvia deliberately?’
‘By cutting her hand?’ Her eyes sparkled with bemused laughter. ‘If I was going to hurt someone I would have aimed for something far more vital. Like an artery.’
‘Sepsis can occur anywhere in the human body can’t it? Not necessarily in a vital organ?’
‘Ah! now I know what you are getting at.’ She fell silent for a moment. ‘The cloth. Hmm, but why would anyone wish Sylvia Thompson harm? She was the proprietor of a haberdashery shop and lived a quiet life.’
‘It wasn’t her present life which mattered, but her past,’ Flora said, half to herself. ‘Dr Grace, does it not strike you as odd that in a town where Sylvia is known, both her son and her assistant are coincidentally absent when she is hurt, leaving a stranger to come to her aid? I have no real proof, but—’
‘And I haven’t brought you any. I’m so sorry. Do you think this same woman was also instrumental in Leo’s death? What with it happening so soon afterwards?’
‘I suppose four months isn’t noteworthy.’ Dr Grace’s face fell and Flora rushed to reassure her. ‘But this might simply be my misinterpretation of events. Sylvia Thompson’s death could easily have been an accident.’ Not that she believed it for a moment, and Dr Grace’s presence in her home showed she didn’t either.
‘I was in two minds whether to repeat this, but your mention of Sylvia’s past has decided me.’ Dr Grace cleared her throat. ‘Mrs Tilney visited the surgery yesterday, for no other reason I could see than to gossip, as she has always enjoyed rude health. During our somewhat protracted conversation, she said you had written to her asking about Leo Thompson.’
‘Yes, I did. I hope it didn’t put you in an awkward position?’
‘I don’t see why it should, unless things have changed since we last saw one another?’
‘Initially there existed some confusion about the identity of the young man on the train.’
The Bloomsbury Affair Page 24