Chapter 18
‘Oh come now inspector, you can’t really suspect Hetty of the theft of the diamond necklace,’ Miss Mittens protested.
‘Miss Mittens, you have no right to be here and I must request you to leave immediately.’
Sergeant Wolf entered the room.
‘Wolf, escort Miss Ashcroft down to the Study, put a man on guard in front of the door, then go and find Jane James and escort her to the Study. Quickly, man.’
Etta felt as if this dream had turned into a nightmare. She started trembling.
‘Come along, miss,’ Sergeant Wolf said.
She stumbled as she followed him out of the room, casting a frightened glance at Miss Mittens.
‘Don’t worry, Hetty, we’ll soon have this cleared up,’ said Miss Mittens soothingly,
Inspector Brighton snorted.
Jen was in the Servants’ Room, sitting in an armchair, reading another Peg’s Paper when Sergeant Wolf arrived. She had tried reading “Nature and Selected Works” but it had felt too much like homework and she had given up.
‘Can you come with me?’ Inspector Wolf asked.
‘Why?’
‘Inspector Brighton wants to see you.’
This couldn’t be good. She followed him back up the stairs and through the corridors to the Study.
Inside, she found Etta and Inspector Brighton already seated. She looked enquiringly at him.
‘Take a seat,’ Inspector Brighton said, gesturing at the vacant chair next to Etta.
‘He’s arrested me for the theft of the diamond necklace!’ Etta blurted out.
‘What?’ Jen half rose from her seat.
‘Sit down! ’ Inspector Brighton barked and Sergeant Wolf came towards her, evidently bent on making sure she sat down.
Jen sat down. What on earth was going on?
‘I have arrested your accomplice, Henrietta Ashcroft and I am arresting you, Jane James for the theft of Lady Mowbray’s necklace, which I have just found in Henrietta’s jewellery box. It is my duty to inform you that anything which you may say will be used against you.’
‘That’s ridiculous,’ Jen protested. ‘There’s no diamond necklace in her jewellery box.’
‘Then how do you explain this?’ the inspector asked, pulling the diamond necklace out of his jacket pocket and dangling it over the desk.
‘I’ve never seen it before,’ Jen told him.
‘The last time I saw that; it was round the neck of Evangeline Spinoza while she was dancing. I haven’t seen it since,’ Etta rushed in.
‘So how do you explain its presence in your jewellery box?’
‘I can’t,’ Etta said.
‘Perhaps, I can. You and your accomplice took turns to hide the necklace while you and your rooms were searched and then put it back in your jewellery box, thinking no one would look there again. Isn’t that what happened?’
‘No,’ they both chorused.
‘It might interest you to know that we made some enquiries about you two. And you both seem very suspicious to me. You’ve only been staying at your London address for a few weeks and the address you gave me in Reading, here you claimed to be living before that, Henrietta, doesn’t exist.’
Etta and Jen looked at each other.
‘I think you scraped acquaintance with Miss Dorothy Mowbray in order to come here and steal her mother’s diamond necklace.’
‘That’s not true,’ Etta said.
‘You told us that Jane had only been working for you for a few months, Henrietta but Jane told another servant that she was an old family servant. So, which is it?’
Damn, thought Jen, I should have kept my big mouth shut. Etta turned a stricken face towards her.
‘We have nothing to say,’ Jen said. She wanted to ask for a lawyer but wasn’t sure how that would go down in the Thirties.
‘We haven’t charged you yet with the murder of Mrs. Evangeline Spinoza as we haven’t found the murder weapon. But when we do, I expect that will be added to the list of charges.’
‘We had nothing to do with the murder or the theft,’ Jen said.
‘It seems to me very likely that you had everything to do with both of these very serious crimes.’
‘Any one could have planted that necklace in my room,’ cried Etta. To her horror, her voice was beginning to wobble.
Jen patted her hand. ‘Don’t worry, love, they’ve got very little firm evidence and just because the necklace is missing, doesn’t mean that the thief and the murderer are one and the same.’ She tried to put as much conviction as possible into her voice.
She looked at Inspector Brighton and saw a look of irritation and puzzlement on his face, quickly wiped off.
Then they heard the noise of raised voices and a struggle. The door burst open and they could see Algernon Wainwright struggling with the police constable, shouting, ‘I must speak urgently with you, Inspector Brighton!’
‘Let him come in,’ the inspector ordered the policeman.
The police constable lowered his arms and Algernon strode past, brushing his hair back off his forehead as he did so.
‘May I close the door?’ he asked.
Inspector Brighton nodded. The door was closed and Algernon turned to face them.
‘I understand that you have arrested Miss Ashcroft on suspicion of stealing the necklace?’
‘Yes, and Miss James, too.’
‘I have important information to lay before you, inspector.’
‘Such as?’
‘Miss Ashcroft and Miss James are working for me. They are private investigators, employed by a most reputable firm.’
It was hard to say who was most surprised, Inspector Brighton, Sergeant Wolf, Etta or Jen.
‘Could you repeat that, please?’ the inspector asked.
‘Certainly. Miss Ashcroft and Miss James are working for me. They came here under assumed identities on my behalf.’
‘To what end?’
‘To uncover a financial swindle and to expose a very unpleasant character, a con man and all round bad egg.’
‘What financial swindle and what con man?’
‘Dennis Mowbray and Lorenzo Spinoza.’
‘I know that Mr. Mowbray and Mr. Spinoza sail close to the wind,’ said Inspector Brighton.
‘They’re not sailing close any more, inspector, they’ve sailed past. And as for Stewart Grenadier, he’s already swindled some people I know. You might not know but Dotty Mowbray has recently come into her inheritance and is vulnerable to all these scoundrels. I brought Miss Ashcroft down here as bait.’
‘And Miss James?’
‘To add authenticity to her cover and to provide additional help.’
‘Can any one substantiate your story?’
‘Mr Philip Chesterton of the Chesterton Private Investigation Agency. Don’t take my word for it, inspector. Give him a call. Let me give you his card.’
‘I’ll get the number for myself, thank you. Is the address on the card?’
Algernon handed him the card by way of reply. Inspector Brighton glanced at it, reached for the phone and dialled a number.
‘Chesterton Agency? I’d like to speak to Mr. Philip Chesterton, please. Yes, I’ll hold.’ He waited a few minutes and then spoke again. ‘Hello? Mr. Philip Chesterton? Do you run the Chesterton Private Investigation Agency? Yes? Inspector Brighton here, of the Hampshire Constabulary. Have you got a client called Mr. Algernon Wainwright? You have. And is he using two of your employees at the moment? Yes? Please describe them to me.’
This one-sided conversation continued on for some time and Inspector Brighton eventually put the phone down.
‘It appears that you are telling the truth, sir,’ he said grudgingly. He glared at Etta and Jen. ‘And we could have avoided wasting police time if you had told me the truth from the start.’
‘Client confidentiality,’ Jen tried.
‘Rubbish. Not in a murder investigation. You are free to go.’
‘Inspec
tor, I trust that we can keep these ladies’ true identities to ourselves?’ Algernon asked.
‘How are you going to explain rushing in to see the inspector?’ Etta asked.
‘My concern for a sensitive young lady, falsely accused of theft,’ Algernon replied without blinking an eye.
‘You may go,’ the inspector said, shuffling some papers, making it clear it was a command.
No apology, then, Jen thought.
‘Inspector, before we go, killed with? I understand that you cannot tell us the exact details of what Mrs. Spinoza was killed with but might I ask, was it something the killer brought with him or something that he found in the bedroom? Miss Mittens asked.
The inspector glared at her. ‘You’re right; I’m not going to give you any details. I can tell you he used something from the bedroom. And when I say he, that doesn’t mean I not ruling out a woman. And that’s all you’re getting, Miss Mittens. Now, please go away.’
‘How very interesting,’ murmured Miss Mittens, not at all put out by the inspector’s brusque tone.
Outside in the corridor, Jen blew out a long breath of relief.
‘I think, my dear, you should go to your room and have a nice cup of tea. I’ll have one sent up to you. And your maid should go with you. Best avoid all the questions for the time being, Miss Mittens said, looking at Etta’s pale face.
‘Good idea,’ Jen said. ‘Thanks for coming to the rescue, Mr..”
Algernon stared at her. ‘Wainwright. I’m a little worried your cover is blown.’
‘Nonsense,’ Miss Mittens said, ‘provided nobody else knows and I’m sure that the inspector is a man of his word. You can carry on as before.’ She beamed at them.
Jen looked at Etta, she did look pale and upset.
‘Lets go upstairs and discuss this later,’ she said.
She and Etta made their way upstairs.
Miss Mittens was as good as her word and Lily appeared about quarter of an hour after they reached the bedroom with a tea tray. Jen was glad to see that there were two cups and saucers on the tray.
Lily’s eyes were darting about with curiousity and excitement but Jen guessed that she was too inhibited by Etta’s presence to say anything. She groaned inwardly thinking of the grilling she would probably get in the Servants’ Hall. Lily deposited the tea tray and departed, not without a backwards glance at Jen and Etta.
As soon as Lily went out of the door, Etta lay back down on the bed. ‘I was really scared there,’ she confessed.
Jen leant over and gave her a kiss on the cheek. ‘I know you were, so was I.’
‘What would have happened to us if they had properly arrested us for the necklace?’ Etta asked.
‘Probably locked us up in a police station, and then prison, I suppose,’ Jen said with a shrug.
‘But that would have meant we couldn’t find out who the murderer was and escape from the coma!’
‘That’s true but it didn’t happen,’ Jen said. ‘We’re safe, we’re ok now.’
‘I don’t know how you can say that, Mum. We’re not safe, we’re not ok.’ Her voice rose.
Jen realised that Etta was working herself up in to a state, the result of the stress that she had been under, she had managed to keep it together during the interview but now she could indulge in an emotional outburst.
She tried to speak calmly, to reassure her. ‘Listen to me, Etta. For the moment, we’re safe from being arrested again. And Inspector Brighton thinks that the two crimes are linked; whoever stole the necklace, killed Mrs. Spinoza. So if he thinks we didn’t steal the necklace then we can’t have killed the woman.’
‘So long as the inspector thinks the two crimes are linked,’ said Etta.
‘So long as,’ Jen agreed. ‘Now, lets have a cup of tea, shall we?’