Superfluous Women Read online

  “Thank you, Sally.”

  Daisy heaved herself out of her chair. “I’m going to tell Underwood about Sergeant Harris spreading rumours. The sooner that’s put an end to, the better. Not to mention trying to find out what’s going on between Underwood and Alec!”

  “Sit down and drink your coffee first,” said Isabel. “You don’t want to fall asleep in the middle of your sleuthing.”

  “I’m not sleuthing.” Daisy subsided and took the cup Isabel handed her. “Not really. And don’t you dare suggest to Alec that I am. He hates to admit that sometimes I’m helpful, not just interfering.”

  THIRTEEN

  “What’s yours, sir?” DI Underwood greeted Alec.

  A promising beginning; Alec decided to reward his earlier abstemiousness. “Whisky and soda, a small one, thanks.”

  “Off you go, Pennicuik.”

  Alec took a seat. “What can I do for you, Inspector?”

  “For the present, nothing, sir. Nothing official, that is. I’ve spoken to my super on the telephone and he says he can’t make any decisions till he’s talked to your super. Superintendent Crane, I told him. That’s right?”

  “That’s the man.”

  “Have you informed him of the situation, sir?”

  “I thought I’d wait till the morning and catch him at the Yard. He gets a little testy when disturbed on a Sunday evening.”

  “I persuaded Mr. Parry to wait till tomorrow.” Underwood and Alec exchanged a smile of complicity. Managing superior officers was part of being a copper.

  “What did he have to say when you told him about me?”

  “‘Blast,’ followed by ‘damn’ as he absorbed the implications. Those weren’t the actual words he used, mind you. He was in the Navy and he has some salty profanity at his command. But once I’d got him to consider my plan calmly, he was all in favour.”

  “Somehow, I’m not surprised. In essence, your plan is to use the services of the Yard without the county having to pay for them.”

  Underwood grinned. “Yes. Do you think your super will go along with it?”

  “It’s … not impossible, if I’m not urgently needed elsewhere. You’d have to stop the nonsense about keeping your eye on me as a material witness. Save it for Mr. Parry if you must. Crane wouldn’t like it a bit. Casting aspersions on one of his officers isn’t going to win his cooperation.”

  “I already dropped that line. What would help?”

  Alec eyed him appraisingly. “Can I trust in your discretion? And Parry’s?”

  “If we can trust in your innocence…”

  “Touché. May I take it you’re prepared to extend the same belief to my wife?”

  “Unofficially, by all means. I’d be astounded if Mrs. Fletcher played any rôle in the crime. But I’m sure you realise that officially she can’t be dismissed so easily, as accessory after the fact, at least. She’s known one of the women for many years, and appears to be on intimate terms with the other two. It’s plausible that she might help them to cover up the murder.”

  Alec had no answer for that. He himself had more than once suspected Daisy of just such a misdeed, and even accused her. In at least one case, he knew full well she had helped a killer to escape. She always had what she considered an excellent reason.

  “Yes, I suppose it’s plausible,” he said cautiously. “I’m sceptical, though, about the ladies being involved in the death.”

  “I have my doubts,” Underwood admitted. “I’m afraid Mr. Parry was on about spinsters going peculiar and getting funny ideas into their heads. I tried to explain they’re too young for ‘the change,’ but he’s not convinced.”

  “Pity. Never mind, when we—you find out who’s dead, you’ll doubtless have plenty of suspects on your hands. The same goes if it is in fact the Gray woman, once you start investigating her background.”

  “Still, we’ll have to look at those three very carefully. Both Miss Chandler and Miss Leighton are hiding something, that’s for sure. What do you think about this Vaughn fellow, the house agent?”

  “Nothing, pending your identifying the victim.”

  Underwood puffed out his thin cheeks and issued a long sigh through pursed lips. “That’s the first order of business, all right. Mustn’t take it for granted it’s Mrs. Gray, even if she’s the only person who’s disappeared.”

  “With a perfectly good explanation.”

  “That,” said the inspector, sighing again, “is the fly in the ointment. So what will help persuade Superintendent Crane?”

  “My wife,” Alec said reluctantly. “Mention that Daisy’s here and he’ll—”

  He was glad to be interrupted by Pennicuik’s entrance, bringing their drinks, whisky for Alec, a pint of mild for Underwood, and a modest half pint for the detective constable himself. “Sorry it took so long, sir. After-dinner crush.” He sounded wistful.

  “No dinner for us tonight, my boy. We’ve work to do.”

  “They’ve got Scotch eggs and pickled onions at the bar, and potato crisps.”

  Underwood turned his eyes ceiling-ward and rolled them. “Is he under the illusion that he’s still a growing lad?” he demanded rhetorically. The constable’s ears reddened. “All right, I daresay we’ll think better with something in our stomachs. Here.” He handed back the change Pennicuik had just given him. “But don’t take so long about it. You need to cultivate that air of authority.”

  “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.” The young man departed at a trot.

  The inspector shook his head. “I have high hopes for Pennicuik, but sometimes … Where were we?”

  “Contemplating Mrs. Gray’s proposed travels. Pondering the odds of tracing her to an unknown hotel in Paris and thence to unknown friends in an unknown part of the Riviera.”

  “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. Not that I wish her dead!”

  “Let’s hope she has friends we can unearth to whom she’s given details of her plans. If it becomes necessary. How do you propose to go about identifying the body?”

  “The char, don’t you think? Not necessarily to view the corpse, but she should know something about who her friends were. Or are. And she might be able to pin down the date, if we’re really lucky.”

  Alec nodded. It was just the sort of job his retired sergeant had excelled at. DS Tom Tring had been at his best with servants, especially female servants, and labourers, and in public bars, in a way that Ernie Piper was unlikely ever to emulate. Ernie was brilliant at organising information, though, and at remembering details.… But unless Alec was officially called in, DS Piper would not be coming down to Beaconsfield.

  “Going to approach her yourself?” he asked.

  “Unless you think she might succumb to Pennicuik’s boyish charm.”

  As Underwood spoke, the constable came in again, bearing two plates. His beetroot-red ears made it plain he had heard. Without a word, he set one plate beside the inspector, then turned to Alec. “I didn’t bring any for you, sir, seeing you had dinner. I hope that’s right.”

  “Yes, thanks. That’s not a bad idea, Inspector. From everything I’ve heard, Mrs. Hedger is an awkward customer. Any sign of coercion and she’s liable to dig in her heels. You might do worse than to send in a junior officer. If she doesn’t come across, you can always bring in the heavy guns.”

  “Hmm. Maybe I should have a word first with that niece of hers who works here. Fetch her here, Pennicuik.”

  The constable bolted a bite of Scotch egg and resignedly set down the remainder on his plate. “Yes, sir.” He tramped out.

  “What do you bet she asks Mrs. Fletcher to come with her?”

  “I’m sorry. Daisy assures me she doesn’t do it—whatever it is—on purpose. It just happens.”

  “This isn’t the first time? That’s a relief. I was afraid I was somehow encouraging her.”

  Alec thought it politic not to point out that Underwood had in fact done so, by letting Daisy stay after he had let Vera go. He very much doubted that eith
er Willie or Isabel would have claimed to be unable to cope without her.

  “I do wonder what’s making Miss Leighton so touchy,” Alec said.

  “We’ll find out in due course.”

  “And very likely it will have nothing to do with your case.”

  “And digging into it will upset her more. Can’t be helped. It’s part of the job.”

  Pennicuik returned sooner than expected, his face as studiedly impassive as the best of detectives—or butlers. “Miss Hedger, sir. And Mrs. Fletcher.” He held the door open for them.

  Rising, Alec and Underwood exchanged a glance of resignation and sighed, quietly and simultaneously.

  “Thank you for coming, Miss Hedger. We won’t keep you from your work for long.”

  “They can manage without me, sir.” If Sally was perturbed by the summons, she didn’t show it. “The worst’s over.”

  “Do sit down. Mrs. Fletcher…?”

  Uninvited, Daisy dropped into a chair, and Sally followed her example, as did the men.

  “I think you ought to know, Inspector,” said Daisy, “that Sergeant Harris is in the public bar, busy spreading nasty rumours about what happened at Cherry Trees.”

  “I heard people repeating what he said,” Sally confirmed emphatically. “It was me that told Mrs. Fletcher.”

  Underwood jumped up. “The flaming idiot! I’ve had trouble with him before. How he made it to sergeant I’ll never understand. Excuse me a moment.” He strode out.

  “Anything else to report, Daisy?” Alec asked sardonically.

  “Not to report, exactly. I wondered whether you and Underwood have seriously considered that the murder might have nothing to do with the house. I mean, someone who happened to have a body to dispose of found out that the house was unoccupied … No, it sounds silly now.”

  “It’s a possibility Underwood and I have discussed, though not in depth.”

  “Oh, good. Not complete bunkum, then.”

  “No. Only local people would know about the house, though, and no one local has been reported missing.”

  “Blast!”

  Alec was about to invite her in no uncertain terms to remove herself, when Underwood returned.

  “He’s left already, which means a written report instead of a private dressing down. Along with his failure to view the body, it’s inexcusable.” Still standing, he addressed Sally. “Miss Hedger, I gather you have worked at Cherry Trees?”

  “Just a bit, sir, on and off, like, to help Auntie. Only once for Miss Sutcliffe, but when Mr. and Mrs. Gray lived there.”

  “I may have to interview you later, but for now, it’s your aunt I want to ask about. I’ve got a few questions to ask her, and I’m told she can be—hmm—stubborn.”

  “Pigheaded is what Auntie May is, sir, and she don’t hold with gossip. Nor with the police, neither.”

  “Do you think she’d be more likely to cooperate with me or with DC Pennicuik?”

  Sally laughed. “If you’re thinking she has a soft spot for a young fella, you’re out. I’m not saying she don’t mourn my cousin Sammy that was killed in the war, but they fought cat and dog when he was alive. She used to cuff him round the ear when he was a kid, and he gave her a black eye once when he grew. No, the only one she might mind is Mr. Fletcher, ’cause he’s a gentleman and she does have some respect for the quality. Not much, mind. I couldn’t promise.”

  Alec didn’t dare look at Underwood. “I’m just a copper, like Detective Inspector Underwood.”

  “Well, you talk posh, like Mrs. Fletcher. Don’t tell Auntie and she won’t know the difference.”

  “Thank you, Miss Hedger,” said Underwood. “You’ve been very helpful.”

  “Anything I can do, sir. Nobody—not even Mrs. Gray—deserves to be beaten to death with a poker.”

  “Good gracious,” Daisy exclaimed, “is that what the sergeant’s been claiming?”

  “Hinting’s what he does, madam, and there’s other hints worse nor that.”

  “The identity of the victim is not yet known,” Underwood informed her. “I’d take it kindly if you were to pass the word.”

  “Then I will, sir. That Mr. Harris ought to be told off good and proper. I hope you’ll take him down a peg or two, sir.”

  As soon as the door closed behind Sally, the inspector remarked, “That young woman has a sensible head on her shoulders. Too bad she’s stymied our—my plans.”

  “If you ask me,” Daisy said wearily, “which I know you do not, I’d wait till tomorrow. Sleep on it. Whoever she is, she’s been dead a long time. In the morning, your super, Inspector, and Mr. Crane will sort out Alec’s status in the case, and then you’ll be able to go full steam ahead with or without him.”

  Underwood looked at Alec. “She’s got a point.”

  “Once in a while, every now and again, she does hit the nail on the head.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence, darling! If you can manage without me, I’m off. Oh, that reminds me: Inspector, don’t forget my friends are badly in need of some clothes and papers from the house.”

  “I hadn’t forgotten. Pennicuik, you go along with Mrs. Fletcher and get the details. Thank you, Mrs. Fletcher.”

  Alec waited till Daisy and the constable had left before he asked, “You’re going to take my wife’s suggestion?”

  “It makes sense, and not only because of your position. I’ve got a couple of men talking to the neighbours. If Mrs. Gray was friendly with any of them, we could have much of the information tonight and only need to confirm it with Mrs. Hedger tomorrow. Should be easier than trying to dig it out of her.”

  “But she’s still our—your best bet for pinning down the date of death.”

  “Very likely. At least two weeks, the doctor said, and probably not more than four, but given the unusual conditions—”

  “They always find an excuse for waffling.”

  “Don’t I know it! This time, though, I doubt we’ll get anything useful from the autopsy.”

  “Unless Daisy’s other suggestion proves true: She was killed elsewhere and dumped in the empty house.”

  “Miss Chandler was the first to propose that theory, I believe.”

  “Lividity will … Except that lividity might not survive the decomposition. I’m not sure about that. The pathologist may even have trouble telling whether the broken neck was the cause of death or occurred postmortem.”

  “I hadn’t thought of that,” Underwood said sheepishly. “She could have been poisoned or stabbed or something, and the neck was broken when the murderer chucked the body over the edge.” Underwood sighed. “One way or the other, it’s as nasty a business as I’ve come across in a long time. Believe me, if my super wants to call in the Yard, I won’t kick against the pricks.”

  FOURTEEN

  Preceding Pennicuik along the narrow passages, Daisy considered the state of affairs with satisfaction. Underwood was not bent upon closing the case quickly by pinning the guilt on one or more of her friends, as she had feared. He was open to other solutions, even one that excluded their house as anything worse than a convenient place to dump a body.

  She wondered to what extent Alec had influenced the inspector. They had taken to each other; so much was clear. If they had not been on friendly terms, Alec would never have teased her in the other man’s presence.

  What was more, he had admitted that she was helpful, even if he had qualified the statement in wholly unnecessary terms. Such an acknowledgement was rare enough to be prized.

  They found Willie in the residents’ lounge, glancing through a somewhat tattered copy of the News of the World. She dropped it when they entered. Daisy glanced round the room. The rest of the residents must be at dinner still, or in one of the bars.

  “Where are the others?”

  “Vera decided to go back upstairs. Iz went with her.”

  “DC Pennicuik has come for your lists of stuff you need for tomorrow. Did they leave theirs with you?”

  Willie pr
oduced three lists from a pocket, and Pennicuik went off.

  “All right,” said Daisy, sitting beside her, “what’s up with Vera?”

  “That’s what Izzie’s hoping to find out. Given that Vera’s more sensitive than either of us, and a body in the cellar is enough to upset anyone, it doesn’t seem to be the murder per se that’s upsetting her. It seems to be something to do with Cartwright.”

  “The headmaster, right? She wasn’t upset about him before the murder?”

  “All we were aware of was that she didn’t want to invite the Cartwrights for a drink. She doesn’t talk about her troubles much, just stews over things.”

  “So she sees or suspects some connection between Cartwright and the murder?” Daisy mused.

  “So it would appear. Let’s hope Iz gets it out of her. She’s far more sympathetic and patient than I am. If she fails—”

  “If she fails, the inspector will have to start digging, and he won’t be half as sympathetic and patient. He didn’t miss much, you can count on it.”

  “And if Isabel succeeds, will Alec listen to her and advise as to whether Underwood needs to be told?”

  “I’m sure he’ll listen. If there’s anything in it, I’m sure he’ll insist on telling the inspector. Alec has no standing—”

  “I should have thought by now the inspector would have asked for his help.”

  “It’s not up to Underwood. Didn’t I explain the chain of command?”

  Willie sighed. “Don’t bother. I can’t wait to go to work tomorrow and have something to concentrate on other than murder! Some nice, solid, straightforward numbers. Though…” She didn’t pursue the thought.

  Daisy did. “Though? There’s something going on at work, isn’t there? This isn’t the first time you’ve hinted.”

  “I know. I should keep my mouth shut. I’d tell you if I could, Daisy, honestly.”

  “I’m more concerned about your keeping it from the police.”

  “It’s nothing to do with them.” Willie sounded unconvinced, and unconvincing. “Not yet.”

  “What do you mean? The sooner they know—”

  “I meant it’s nothing to do with the murder.”