The Bloomsbury Affair

by Anita Davison

  ‘I’m pretty sure I would have remembered a name like that had I heard it before. Who is she?’

  ‘A Marxist revolutionary and one of Lenin’s acolytes. Rumour has it, Lenin asked her to marry him at one time, but she refused. He subsequently married Nadya, but she and Apollinariya are friends, or they used to be. She and her husband fled from Russia and have lived here in London for the last five years.’

  ‘Poor Nadya. It can’t be comfortable for her to have this woman present knowing her husband’s feelings for her.’ Flora had never met her, but any woman who did not command her husband’s heart earned her sympathy.

  ‘She doesn’t need your understanding, Flora.’ William seemed to read her thoughts. ‘Any woman who escapes from a Siberian prison and travels the seven thousand miles to London undetected is, in my opinion, strong enough to take care of herself. She and her husband hold debates in the East End on the principles of Russian socialism. Thompson attended some of them and had been distributing Iskra both here and in Cheltenham, which explains why Maddox found a copy in his luggage.’

  ‘Should we inform the police about Leo’s loyalties?’

  ‘I’d rather not have any of the delegates questioned until it becomes absolutely necessary. Not until we have more evidence he was involved in—’ William broke off, jumped to his feet and opened the door a crack, his free hand held up to warn her to be silent.

  Flora’s heart thumped uncomfortably in her chest as a male voice called out, followed by another, then the sound of a door being slammed and finally silence.

  ‘It’s all right, they’ve gone.’ William relaxed again, closed the door gently and resumed his seat on the table.

  ‘Are we likely to be discovered here?’ Flora asked, concerned.

  ‘I hope not, it would make things exceedingly awkward for me to have to explain your presence.’

  ‘I’m beginning to think Bunny’s right and this case is too complicated. Sometimes it looks straightforward but what with Thompson’s involvement with Mr Lenin, maybe I should leave it to Inspector Maddox.’

  ‘This isn’t like you, Flora. I thought you loved to get your teeth into a good mystery?’

  ‘I do, normally. But there’s more at stake here for Ed, and now you. I’m worried the responsibility is too great.’

  She couldn’t believe what she had just said. Bunny was always telling her the same thing, but she never listened to him.

  ‘Don’t lose confidence now.’ William massaged her shoulder gently with one hand. ‘I wish I had taken more of an interest in Leo at the time. He was supposed to arrive here on Tuesday, when we might have learned more if—’

  ‘He hadn’t been murdered,’ Flora interrupted him. ‘I know. What else did he do apart from handing out newspapers?’

  ‘He took part in a protest a few weeks ago in support of the new Aliens Act.’

  ‘The Aliens Act,’ Flora repeated slowly. ‘But that restricts immigration? Thousands of Russians came here to escape the pogroms in the eighties, so why would they want to prevent that? And don’t stare at me like that, I’m not totally ignorant.’

  ‘I didn’t say you were, my darling.’ His eyes, which had resembled scraps of flint as he talked, softened. ‘Foreign workers are paid less than their English counterparts, which squeezes the labour market. The Labour Party here would like to protect jobs for our own countrymen. The Tory factory owners, on the other hand, take full advantage of cheap labour. The protest caused a riot outside a church hall in Southwark last month. Three people died and thirty-five were taken to hospital.’

  ‘Leo sounds like quite the rabble rouser. I assume he was learning to speak Russian too?’ At William’s enquiring look, added, ‘Why would he have a copy of Iskra in his luggage unless he could read it? But whether we disagree with his politics or not, he didn’t deserve to be stabbed to death.’

  ‘No, he didn’t.’ William sighed. ‘There’s also a possibility our own government was aware of Thompson’s activities and viewed them as detrimental to our country.’

  ‘What are you saying?’ She lowered her voice to a fierce whisper. ‘That our own government might have disposed of him?’

  He shrugged. ‘It’s not unknown for the authorities to deal with potentially embarrassing situations. Why hold a public trial which could be embarrassing, when a problem can be solved by simpler methods?’

  ‘I see.’ Flora refused to contemplate the full meaning of what he was saying. Could a former governess ever be cognisant of what went on in the hallowed halls of government to keep the population safe? Did she want to know? Probably not.’

  ‘The Bolsheviks are more than a few fanatics throwing bombs at carriages. My task right now might be straightforward information gathering, but there are those in positions of power who would welcome the collapse of the Imperialist regime. It could take years, but eventually there will be a revolution in Russia. An American financier called Schiff has already provided the party with substantial funds to be used for propaganda. Germany is also making encouraging noises towards the socialists.’

  ‘And the British Government? What’s their stance on this revolution idea?’

  He held her gaze for a long moment, but before she could discern what sat in his eyes, he removed his watch chain and consulted his half-hunter. ‘I ought to go. Vladimir will wonder where I am. We’re meeting at The Crown in Clerkenwell later. I’m not looking forward to it as I’ll have to feign enthusiasm for his turgid diatribes against the Imperialists. He—’ At the sound of voices from the hall outside, William straightened and slid off the table.

  Flora joined him at the door, their heads head cocked to listen.

  ‘Have you seen a young woman in a blue coat and hat?’ Ed’s voice echoed along the corridor.

  ‘It’s Ed!’ Flora lowered her voice to a fierce whisper.

  ‘No, sir, I haven’t,’ a low, but distinct female voice answered.

  ‘She was on her way to the facilities,’ Ed continued. ‘But I cannot imagine they are down this way.’

  ‘No, sir. You’ll need to go back the way you came to the lobby, and—’

  ‘Stay here and I’ll go out and talk to him.’ Flora gestured William behind the door so as not to be seen from the hallway. ‘William?’ She halted with her hand on the doorknob. ‘If America and Germany want this revolution, where does Britain stand?’

  Instead of an answer, he planted a swift kiss on her forehead and opened the door just wide enough for her to slip through. ‘You’d better go.’

  Chapter 29

  Flora emerged into the hallway in time to hear Ed thank a woman in a severe black gown for her help. She carried a thick ledger and wore a chain at her waist from which hung several keys. Something about her struck Flora as familiar, but before she could work out what it was, the woman hurried away.

  Ed must have sensed Flora’s presence behind him because he swung round. ‘There you are.’ He stood with his head tilted and arms held out at his sides. ‘You were gone for so long, I came to look for you. What are you doing back here?’

  ‘I took a wrong turning.’ She cocked her chin at the departing figure. ‘Who was that woman you were speaking to?’

  ‘I’ve no idea. She must work here as I heard her giving instructions to a kitchen maid. Why?’

  ‘I’m not sure. She looked familiar, but I doubt we’ve ever met.’

  ‘You probably saw her when you came here with Bunny.’

  ‘Possibly. Have you ordered our coffee?’ she asked, dismissing the woman from her mind.

  ‘Er…no, I didn’t, sorry. But I haven’t been idle. I located a very talkative maid.

  ‘The one who gave Leonard his alibi?’ She cast a sideways look at the meeting room door, visualising William pacing back and forth behind it.

  ‘Not her, the one Timms spoke to, Libby. She told me the chambermaid who cleaned Leonard’s room that day was called Maisie Cook. Libby’s going to arrange for me to talk to her.’

  ‘How much d
id that cost you? If I recall, Timms paid quite handsomely for Libby’s co-operation.’

  ‘Nothing, yet.’ He revealed his teeth in a sheepish grimace. ‘I don’t have any cash on me, so I said you’d pay her.’

  Flora halted mid-step. ‘Did you indeed?’

  ‘On come on, what’s a few shillings?’ He had carried on a few paces and stopped, forced to retrace his steps to where she stood. ‘You know you would have done the same thing. This is a real chance to clear my name. You can’t ask me to pass it up.’

  ‘All right.’ Flora sighed and resumed walking. ‘How do we find Maisie?’

  ‘Libby said to meet her by the kitchens and she’ll take us to her.’ Ed led her through a green baize door into a space more shabbily appointed than the last. The clatter of metal pans and shouts could be heard behind a double door with porthole windows; a savoury smell of cooked meat made her mouth water.

  A few feet beyond the kitchen door stood a fair-haired girl in a white apron complete with bib and frilled shoulder straps. She leaned against the wall, her arms folded and one foot tapping to a rhythm inside her head. When she saw them, she pushed away from the wall with a deep sigh. ‘Hurry up, I ain’t got all day.’

  Flora raised an eyebrow at the girl she assumed must be Libby, but before she got any closer, the kitchen door swung open sending her a pace backwards. A waiter with a loaded tray balanced on his shoulder crashed through.

  ‘Have a care, Reg,’ Libby tutted, grimacing.

  Reg gave Flora and Ed a swift, bemused look and Libby a longer one before he swept along the corridor and out of sight.

  ‘This way.’ Libby gestured for them to follow her to another double door farther along the hall, which opened on silent hinges, releasing a wave of hot, humid air which could only be the laundry. Two metal vats belched clouds of white steam, where young girls in pinafores and caps heaved dirty linens from waist high wicker baskets. A row of smoothing irons strung from leads hung from the ceiling were being wielded by similar maids over snowy white bedsheets laid out on tables.

  Libby halted beside the open door of a cupboard lined from floor to ceiling with wooden shelves, where a dark-haired girl crouched on her knees arranging piles of bedsheets onto the bottom shelves.

  ‘This is Maisie.’ Libby’s voice held an air of triumph at a job well done.

  The girl sat back on her knees and stared up at Flora and Ed. Her mob cap spilled black curls onto her forehead above wide green eyes, her angelic features marred by a suspicious scowl. ‘Who are they?’

  ‘No need ter get all uppity, Maisie.’ Libby flicked a look behind her, though no one in the bustling laundry paid them any attention. ‘The lady and gent jest want ta talk to yer about Mr Leonard.’

  ‘What ’bout him?’ Maisie rose slowly from her crouch, drawing herself up to her full height, but barely reached Flora’s chin. She heaved a pile of dirty linens from the floor and tossed them into the nearest basket.

  ‘Good day to you, Maisie,’ Flora began, unsure how she might question this girl without accusing her of lying. ‘I believe you spoke to the police the other day.’

  ‘S’right.’ Her eyes narrowed. ‘What of it?’

  Flora sighed. They had hardly begun and the girl was already defensive. Would they get anything of use out of her?

  ‘You told the police you saw Mr Leonard on Tuesday,’ Ed interjected. ‘That he was asleep in bed when you cleaned his room.’

  Her green gaze slid over Flora and settled on Ed. Her face instantly softened and she peered up at him through dark lashes. ‘Might have done.’

  Flora bit back a sharp retort and left him to do the questioning. Maisie might look sweet and innocent, but she knew exactly what her attractions were, and how to use them.

  ‘Did you actually see Mr Leonard in his room on Tuesday?’ Ed asked.

  ‘He were in bed,’ she folded her arms across her diminutive chest. ‘Like I told the copper.’

  ‘You’re sure?’ Flora urged. ‘Did you see his face?’

  ‘What choo implyin’?’ Maisie’s eyes glittered, the look of someone used to being on the defensive.

  ‘We’re not accusing you,’ Ed said quickly. ‘But might someone else have been in the bed pretending to be Mr Leonard?’

  She shrugged. ‘Dunno. I only stayed long enough to clean the washroom and change the towels.’ She split a hard look between them. ‘Look, what’s this all about? Who are youse two anyway?’

  ‘Watch your cheek, Maisie.’ Libby nudged her with an elbow. ‘They’ll pay yer for the truth. Long as it is the truth, mind.’

  ‘Flora.’ Ed nudged her with an elbow, his hand held out, palm upwards.

  Flora tutted, resigned, slid a hand inside her bag and located a handful of silver coins which she handed to Ed.

  ‘I can’t change me story,’ Maisie eyed the coins greedily. ‘Not now I’ve told the filth. They’ll ’ave me for purging.’

  ‘I think you mean perjury,’ Flora corrected her.

  ‘They’ll do that anyway, if they find out you was lying,’ Libby said, her voice lowered. ‘Think about it, Maisie, we get blokes here all the time who drink all night and sleep till teatime. It could easily have been one o’ them. Well? What do you say? Wrong room and a quid, or right one and get done for purging?’

  ‘Perjury,’ Ed and Flora said together.

  Maisie hesitated, her mouth puckered as she thought it over.

  ‘Ed, put the money away, we’re wasting our time here.’ Flora started to leave, pulling Ed with her.

  ‘No wait!’ Maisie halted them.

  ‘Well? Flora prompted. ‘Was Mr Leonard Hunter-Griggs in that room all day on Tuesday, or not?’

  ‘He weren’t,’ Maisie mumbled, reddening. ‘He paid me five shillings to say he was, but I didn’t know it was the coppers who would be asking. I figured he wanted to keep outta the way of one of his gambling friends. I didn’t mean no ’arm. When the constable came asking questions and said I had to make a statement, it scared me rigid.’

  ‘Then that’s what you tell them.’ Flora plucked the coins from Ed’s hand and slipped them into Maisie’s apron pocket, where they made a satisfying clink. ‘That you were too afraid of losing your job to defy Mr Leonard so said what he told you to.’

  ‘I ain’t going to no police station.’ Maisie slid a hand into her pocket and fingered the coins. ‘If they come back, I’ll tell them, but not otherwise.’

  ‘Then we’ll have to ensure they do come back,’ Flora said, confident Inspector Maddox was too much the professional to ignore the girl’s story. She was willing to bet he had left her questioning to one of his younger officers. Maddox would have seen right through her flimsy lies.

  ‘’Ere. What about me?’ Libby cocked her chin at Ed. ‘He promised me five shillings.’

  ‘Of course, he did.’ Flora sliced a look at Ed and slid a crown into Libby’s hand from her diminishing pile. ‘And thank you for your help.’

  ‘Pleasure.’ Libby pocketed the coin. ‘I’d show you out, but I’m behind with me work already. Go back the way you came and turn right at the end.’ Without waiting for a response, she hurried away, leaving Maisie to return to the linen cupboard.

  ‘We’ll let Maddox know Mr Leonard’s alibi is no good and make sure he comes back to question Maisie,’ Ed chattered happily as they retraced their steps along the dingy hallway. ‘If she does what she promised, I’ll be safe.’

  ‘If she does,’ Flora muttered. ‘I hope the fact we paid her won’t count against us when this gets to court.’

  Entering the lobby felt like stepping from a dark cupboard into a fairyland of bright lights in a grand hall where elegant ladies in large hats and uniformed staff swept by. She half expected the conversations to pause and everyone turn to stare, but no one appeared to notice them. In her eagerness, she almost ran into the woman she had seen talking to Ed earlier.

  ‘Oh, do excuse me.’ Her apologetic smile faded at the woman’s hard, penetrating look as she swep
t past without a backward look. Flora stared after her. ‘If she is staff, then she ought to change her attitude to customers.’

  ‘Never mind her,’ Ed said, irritated. ‘Aren’t you pleased we now know Leonard Hunter-Griggs wasn’t in the hotel the day Leo was killed?’

  ‘I am, Ed, honestly.’ She didn’t like to remind him that Maisie’s story didn’t put Leonard’s imposter on the train. Nor could she banish her uneasiness about the woman in the black dress. Where had she seen her before?

  *

  ‘Where were you earlier by the way?’ Ed asked her as they traversed the lobby arm-in-arm. ‘The woman I spoke to in the corridor told me the facilities are nowhere near the function rooms. She couldn’t think why you were there.’

  ‘Really, Ed, what an inappropriate question to ask a lady.’ Flora avoided his gaze. ‘I’ve already explained I took a wrong turn.’

  ‘Don’t tell me then.’ Ed huffed a breath but dropped the subject, much to her relief as they entered the crowded lobby where patrons sat drinking coffee and chatting. ‘I meant to say hello to Dr Grace this morning,’ Ed continued as they paused beneath the curve of the staircase, complete with its white marble treads and black wrought-iron balusters. ‘But she had gone by the time I had finished breakfast.’

  ‘She couldn’t stay long, she had a meeting to attend.’ Flora searched for a recognisable face amongst the crowd.

  ‘Did she have anything new to add about what happened to Leo’s mother?’

  ‘Not so loud, Ed. And no, not really. She confirmed most of what we already knew, although there was one thing. She mentioned Lady Egerton.’

  ‘I know that name. Her nephew went to school with me. Sebastian, I think his name was. What about her?’

  ‘Were Leo and Sebastian friends, do you know?’

  ‘What? Yes, I suppose so. They were in the same year. Why do you ask?’

  ‘It might mean nothing at all, but the name keeps cropping up.’ Flora stiffened at the sight of the young man she had seen on her first visit. ‘Ed.’ She pulled him into the overhang of the stairs. ‘Leonard Hunter-Griggs is heading for the porter’s desk.’ She nodded to where a young man shoved a guest abruptly aside and took his place. The porter ducked his head in apology to the guest, before reluctantly addressing the interloper.