Authors: The Companion
Ann Granger (16 page)
‘What is it you wish to know?’ demanded his mother briskly. ‘You have come in connection with that wretched girl, Hexham. But I did not know her personally. She was recommended to me by a friend and, on the basis of that, I recommended her to my friend, Mrs Parry. It was a sorry day when I did it. But we were none of us to know.’
‘Yes, ma’am, quite. After you were first put in touch with Miss Hexham by your friend in the North, I understand you had some correspondence with her?’
‘With Hexham? Yes, I did receive a letter or two. I asked her to write to me with her details and the names of referees and to send any letters of recommendation she might have. She sent a letter from a bishop’s widow to whom she had been companion. The letter praised her highly. One would have expected a bishop’s widow to be possessed of common sense and judgement. I took the letter at face value. Madeleine herself wrote a sensible kind of letter. She gave me all the necessary information about herself. There was no reason, no reason at all, Inspector, to believe her anything but utterly trustworthy and responsible!’
‘Do you have these letters still, ma’am?’
‘Of course I don’t!’ she said irritably. ‘I probably passed them all to my dear friend, Mrs Parry. I really don’t remember. I may have destroyed them.’
Mrs Parry had mentioned the correspondence between Mrs
Belling and the lady in Durham, but she had not spoken as if she had it in her possession.
Belling and the lady in Durham, but she had not spoken as if she had it in her possession.
‘Did you see the letter Mrs Parry received from her following her mysterious departure from the house?’ I asked next.
Mrs Belling reddened. ‘I did see it. Julia Parry showed it to me. She was most upset and with good reason. The girl wrote she had eloped! There was no mention of who the man might be. There had clearly been a gross deception practised by the girl on her employer and upon me also. To run off with a man, what kind of girl does that? If he were respectable, why not ask her employer to meet him and give her opinion of him? Why did the man himself not come forward to explain himself and request Mrs Parry’s permission to pay his attentions to her companion? The whole thing was completely irregular. Dr Tibbett, I understand, declares that the man’s intentions could not have been honourable and I am inclined to agree. As for Hexham, the silly little goose, she may well have been gullible enough to believe he was offering marriage, but even so, it does not explain why she ran off with him. It was not the kind of behaviour one expected of someone who had been companion to a bishop’s widow!’
Mrs Belling subsided into a glowering silence at the end of this speech. I ventured to rouse her from it.
‘And did the handwriting in the letter Mrs Parry showed you, the one in which Miss Hexham wrote of her elopement, appear the same as that of the letters you had received?’
‘Yes!’ she returned crisply. ‘If it had not, I should have remarked on it at the time.’
This I believed to be true. ‘Tell me,’ I said, ‘if you remember, what her former circumstances were? What did she write to you of herself?’
Mrs Belling gestured with a thin white hand on which was an emerald ring of great beauty and no doubt corresponding value. I wondered if the stone had been bought in South America and thought unkindly that it was wasted on her. She was a sour-looking
woman, in my view, and had never been handsome. She was, however, very fashionably turned out and formidably laced.
woman, in my view, and had never been handsome. She was, however, very fashionably turned out and formidably laced.
‘She was a curate’s daughter. I suppose that’s why the bishop’s widow took her on. One would expect a curate’s daughter to have moral principles,’ Mrs Belling added fretfully. ‘If one can’t rely on the clergy to bring up their children to set an example then moral decay can only spread among the lower orders to an even worse degree than it is exhibited among them already.’
‘And her parents?’ I prompted.
‘Oh, both dead, also all her siblings. She had been one of five children, but was the only one of them to reach adult years. Very sad but these things are not uncommon. There had been no money. She was thrown on her own devices and we now know what those devices were!’
‘We do, ma’am?’ I enquired.
‘She was looking for a husband,’ said Mrs Belling sharply. ‘Though she had nothing to recommend her.’
‘I thought she seemed very pleasant,’ said James unexpectedly.
He had been so silent I had almost forgotten he was there and so, I fancy, had his mother. Her head snapped round to look at him and she demanded, ‘What should you know of it, James? You did not know her.’
He flushed. ‘Well, no, but I met her, Mama.’
‘When and where?’
I had been going to ask him that but his grim parent was ahead of me. It was better the question came from her so I was not displeased.
‘I made up a four at whist on a couple of occasions when you and Mrs Parry played, and Madeleine. She also called here with Mrs Parry several times. I believe I went once with you to call on Mrs Parry and Madeleine was there.’
‘Pah!’ said his mother. ‘How can you judge from so slight an acquaintance?’ She turned to me. ‘My son’s opinion is of no consequence in this matter.’
‘I am interested to hear it, all the same,’ I said.
‘Thank you,’ said James briefly and, I thought, not without irony.
Perhaps his mother caught the ironic note. She said evenly, ‘You know about nothing but those wretched fossils, James. You do better not to give an opinion on anything else.’
‘Fossils, sir?’ I asked him.
Some animation entered his pale face and he leaned forward eagerly. ‘Yes, I collect fossils and am currently at work on a book I believe will contribute greatly to the recent debate. I have been on some very successful expeditions and my collection, I do believe, is amongst the best and most extensive in private hands in this country. Are you interested in fossils, Inspector?
‘I have seen some interesting impressions in pieces of shale, found in the area of coalfields,’ I said.
‘Then perhaps—’
But James was not allowed to finish. ‘The inspector has not come here to discuss fossils, James.’ Mrs Belling turned to me. ‘Have you finished, Inspector? There is no more I can tell you and James can tell you nothing at all!’
‘Yes, ma’am, thank you for your time.’
A butler materialised without his mistress having rung. He must have been lurking outside the door. He was much the same type as the Parry butler, Simms, and showed me out with the same efficient celerity.
I was not surprised, when I returned to the Yard, to receive a message from Superintendent Dunn to the effect that he would be pleased to see me in his office.
As I guessed, Mr Fletcher had been there before me.
‘How long are you going to keep men at that site?’ Dunn asked me as soon as I came through the door. ‘I have had my ear bent by that fellow Fletcher who appears to think that all our enquiries are part of a plot to disrupt his schedule and undermine the plans of the Midland Railway company.’
‘I hope to finish there today. I need the manpower. We are short-handed. But if those in charge there won’t cooperate, it only slows down everything. I can’t get Fletcher to see that.’
Dunn sighed and scratched his shock of iron-grey hair. In the morning when he arrived his thatch, well dampened down, lay fairly flat. But during the day it worked itself up into a veritable hayrick on his skull.
‘Well, well, Mr Fletcher has those who snap at his heels so he snaps at ours! What is it they say? Great fleas have little fleas upon their backs to bite ’em?’
‘And little fleas have smaller fleas and so ad infinitum!’ I finished for him.
‘It’s never truer than it is for a policeman!’ growled Dunn. ‘Let’s have it, then. Who are your candidates for murderer?’
‘I can’t say I have any, sir. There are one or two gentlemen who might bear investigation if, indeed, the girl did run off with a lover. There is one in the household, Francis Carterton. He has a career to make in the Foreign Office and I believe he must be the designated heir of his wealthy aunt, Mrs Julia Parry, who employed Madeleine. I can’t think Mrs Parry would have approved a marriage between her nephew and her companion. I don’t suppose it would have been the sort of socially advantageous match which would have furthered his career. If he had foolishly led the girl to expect otherwise, he would have been in a pretty pickle.’
‘Carterton, hm …’ mumbled Dunn. ‘Any other?’
‘There is Mr James Belling whose mother recommended Madeleine Hexham to Mrs Parry. She didn’t know her personally but had been recommended her by a third party, an acquaintance in Durham. Mr Belling certainly met Miss Hexham. He appears to be much under the thumb of his mother. He has an interest in fossils and likes to travel round collecting them. It’s in my mind to try and find out if his travels ever took him to the North. He’s writing a book on the subject. I fancy he has no other employment. His allowance will be strictly in his mother’s control, I’m sure. The
woman is a monster. She would not have approved a connection with Miss Hexham and would have made her son’s life a misery if she had even suspected he had an interest in the young lady.’
woman is a monster. She would not have approved a connection with Miss Hexham and would have made her son’s life a misery if she had even suspected he had an interest in the young lady.’
‘Hah!’ said Dunn darkly, running his stubby fingers through his hair which now stood up like a house-painter’s brush.
‘Then there is the matter of the letters written by Miss Hexham to Mrs Belling from Durham, before she came to London. I am keen to know their whereabouts. Possibly they were destroyed. The lady suggested they may have been given to Mrs Parry, but Mrs Parry made no mention of having them though she knew of them. I feel it was a suggestion designed to dismiss my enquiry. Possibly they were overlooked somewhere in a desk drawer in the Belling house. Or, if indeed Mrs Parry was given them, they may have been forgotten somewhere in her house.’
Dunn leaned back in his chair and fixed his shrewd little eyes on me. ‘So if anyone had a fancy to forge the girl’s handwriting, then letters from her might be lying about in either house for the forger to copy?’
‘Yes, sir. Although Mrs Parry did not keep the letter Miss Hexham wrote telling of her elopement. The girl’s clothing was subsequently given to the servants. Miss Hexham was expunged from the record. That is a great pity, from our point of view.’
‘Anything else?’
I hesitated. ‘Yes, sir, but it is in the way of a personal matter of which I should tell you. Mrs Parry’s present companion is a Miss Elizabeth Martin. Her father, the late Dr Martin, was my generous benefactor. He paid for my schooling and gave some small sum of money to my mother during that time when I was not at work.’
Dunn’s bushy eyebrows twitched. ‘Is Miss Martin involved in this somehow?’
‘I don’t see how she can be, sir. She only arrived in London on Tuesday, the day the body was found. She was a stranger to Mrs Parry and her nephew. She was offered the post of companion to the lady because the late Mr Parry had been her godfather.’
‘Will it get in your way?’ demanded Dunn.
‘No, sir, though I confess I don’t like her being in that house.’
‘Don’t let it influence you, although you are sensible enough not to let it do so. Well, well, carry on, then. Concentrate on finding the culprit and I will keep the railway company off your back. Let ’em bite at me!’ He gave his forest of spiky grey hair a last run-through with his stubby fingers. ‘But if they get no joy from me, they will go above me. We have not so much time to solve this one.’
‘There is one thing, sir,’ I said, ‘with regard to the railway company. It seems that Mr Sinclair Belling, James Belling’s father, is a banker with an interest in railways. He is at present in South America looking into some railway development there. I just wondered whether, by any chance, Mr Sinclair Belling might be a shareholder in the Midlands Railway Company. There may be no connection but I should like to know where everyone’s interest lies in this.’
Dunn stared at me, then scribbled the name of Sinclair Belling on a piece of paper. ‘I’ll enquire into it.’ He tapped the pencil on the desktop. ‘This is turning into a dashed complicated business,’ he said, ‘a regular cat’s-cradle of possible motives.’ His little eyes suddenly peered up at me. ‘And that is assuming, of course, that the murderer is a man. The victim was of slight build, you say?’
‘Yes, sir, and Carmichael also thinks showed signs of poor nutrition in the period before her death, although not generally. If she was starved, it was in the last two months.’
‘So a woman might easily have overcome her?’
‘With no trouble at all, sir. But she would need an accomplice to move the body.’
‘Confound it,’ said Dunn softly. ‘Miss Hexham appears to have made herself a nuisance to them all. They could all of them have had a hand in it!’
Elizabeth Martin
A PEREMPTORY knock was followed by a hearty shove and my bedroom door flew open at a little before eight on Friday morning. Bessie appeared, lugging the heavy hot-water can and puffing noisily. It might have been with effort but it struck me this display had its origin in annoyance. She certainly gave the impression of being somewhat out of sorts. She returned my greeting gruffly without meeting my eye.
As I got out of bed and threw a shawl round my shoulders she took the pottery jug from the washstand and stood it on the carpet. I watched her as she tipped the water from her can into it. Her little face was set in concentration lest she spill any.
‘Do leave it there, Bessie,’ I said when she had completed the task and made to lift the filled jug up to the washstand. ‘I’ll do it.’
‘All right, then, miss.’ She grabbed her empty can and made for the bedroom door like a beetle disturbed when a stone is overturned and it rushes for another bolthole.
‘Bessie!’ I called.
She was already half out into the passage beyond but she could not pretend she hadn’t heard me. She returned unwillingly and hovered in the open doorway.
‘Yes, miss?’
‘What happened yesterday below stairs when the sergeant and
police constable came to question the staff? Do you know if they learned anything of interest?’
police constable came to question the staff? Do you know if they learned anything of interest?’
‘No,’ said Bessie. ‘Nobody don’t tell me nothing. Anyway, Mr Simms said we were not to gossip.’ This was uttered in a tone of lofty virtue and accompanied by a meaningful look at me.
‘Mr Simms did not mean you were not to talk to me, Bessie. Nor did he mean you were not to give any information to the police which might help them.’
Bessie gave me another look, this one suggesting she knew Simms rather better than I did. But I wished to make it clear that whatever authority the butler had over her, he had none over me.
‘Did one of the police officers talk to you, Bessie?’ I asked pleasantly.
Bessie shifted the empty water can from one hand to the other and hesitated. But, as I had guessed, some grievance festered in her heart. Now it bubbled over and finally the words tumbled out.
‘They came to me last. I mean, I’m just nobody, not as far as any of ’em think. They questioned everyone else all proper and writing it down and everything. Then the constable, a great lump sweating away in that blue uniform, he says to me, grinning, “Well, then, half-pint! Have you got anything to tell us?”’
Bessie scowled ferociously and the mob cap slipped down over her furrowed brow. ‘“No,”’ I snaps right back at him. “And you don’t have any right to be free with me. I’m a member of the public, I am, and you’re supposed to be polite.” He near laughed himself silly. So the sergeant came over then to see what it was all about and ordered him away. Then I got in trouble with Mrs Simms for being impertinent with an officer of the law. But I wasn’t the one taking liberties, he was!’
‘Perhaps he only wanted to put you at your ease, Bessie, in case you should be frightened,’ I suggested.
‘Nah,’ sniffed Bessie. ‘He fancied himself. He was trying to give the eye to Wilkins on the sly, when his sergeant wasn’t looking,
but it didn’t do him no good. Wilkins is walking out with the footman from number sixteen. He might have done better if he’d tried his luck with Ellis, mind you. But she’s not as pretty as Wilkins. If I don’t go right back downstairs now, miss, I’ll be in trouble with Mrs Simms again.’
but it didn’t do him no good. Wilkins is walking out with the footman from number sixteen. He might have done better if he’d tried his luck with Ellis, mind you. But she’s not as pretty as Wilkins. If I don’t go right back downstairs now, miss, I’ll be in trouble with Mrs Simms again.’
With that she whisked away. I reflected that below stairs there existed a world which, in true Darwinian fashion, had evolved quite differently to society above. Had the great naturalist set himself to study it, he might have found as much of interest there as he had in Tierra del Fuego. Bessie, for all her youth, understood the world about her very well. She had sharp eyes and had observed what motivated adults. Perhaps the police officers should have spoken to her first, not last. When one of them did so, he made a mistake in insulting her dignity. Whatever Bessie knew, and I was sure she knew something, she would now keep it to herself on principle.
‘Or,’ I said softly to myself, ‘because she fears retribution.’
I was a little later going downstairs than on previous days and Frank had already left the house. I was pleased about this. The memory of our encounter in the library had left me with mixed feelings. He should not have sat there watching me as I dozed. He held me quite at a disadvantage when I awoke and I felt I had answered him foolishly. On the other hand, I appreciated the delicate situation in which he found himself with regard to Madeleine’s disappearance and subsequent fate. He must, as he himself had said, be at the top of Inspector Ross’s list – if Ross had a list.
But I had my own programme in mind. To this end I first set about getting on the right side of Simms. Annoying though it was to need to do this, a butler is a person whose goodwill is forfeited at peril and I required his approval of the plan I had in mind.
‘Shall I cut you some ham, miss?’ he enquired as he put down the coffee pot.
‘Well, Simms,’ I said. ‘I don’t want to put anyone to any trouble,
but Mr Carterton tells me Mrs Simms makes a truly delicious omelette. Would she have time, do you think, to make a small one for me?’
but Mr Carterton tells me Mrs Simms makes a truly delicious omelette. Would she have time, do you think, to make a small one for me?’
Simms considered the matter. ‘Well, miss, I’m sure she would. I’ll go and ask.’
In due course the omelette arrived. Frank had been right and it was excellent. When Simms returned for the plate, I said honestly, ‘Please thank Mrs Simms. I enjoyed that so much.’
‘Not at all, Miss Martin,’ he returned quite graciously.
‘I hope you were not too much disturbed yesterday by the activities of the police officers,’ I went on. ‘That must have been quite a nuisance for Mrs Simms.’
‘Mrs Simms Coped,’ said Simms. ‘Mrs Simms is a remarkable Coper. I believe there is not an emergency of a household nature which Mrs Simms could not take a good grip on and knock into shape in no time.’
‘Indeed, I’m sure she must be. She is clearly an excellent cook and the house appears to run like clockwork.’
I warned myself to be careful not to overdo this. But I didn’t think Frank was one for expressing thanks to the staff, nor was Mrs Parry, and rain which falls on parched soil is quickly soaked up.
‘Thank you, miss,’ said Simms and almost smiled.
‘I hesitate,’ I said, ‘to impose on Mrs Simms’s goodwill further. But, as you know, I am a newcomer in London. There has been such a to-do since my arrival here that I have had no time to explore. I have it in mind to make good the omission today but I confess I am more than a little afraid of becoming lost. I was wondering if Mrs Simms could spare Bessie for an hour or two this morning. Bessie is sure to know every road and alley and if I took her with me, there would be no fear of setting foot in the wrong area. I had thought of asking if Mrs Simms could spare either Wilkins or Ellis. But I feared I might sow dissension between them. If either of the maids thought the other had been given a
morning free from her duties, which must of necessity be done by the other one in addition to her own, that might not be a good thing. What do you think?’
morning free from her duties, which must of necessity be done by the other one in addition to her own, that might not be a good thing. What do you think?’
Simms gave me a shrewd look. He appreciated my argument with regard to the maids. He pursed his lips. I waited. The decision had to come from him and must not be a demand by me.
‘I will have a word with Mrs Simms, miss,’ he said at last to my great relief.
He returned later to say that Bessie would be ready at half past ten and he would send her up to the small sitting room.
Bessie arrived promptly as the ormolu clock on the mantelshelf struck the half-hour. She was well scrubbed and wearing a clean dress without her usual pinafore. Her boots were polished. Instead of her overlarge mob cap she wore a bonnet of a style fashionable many years before with a deep brim shading the face and a frill at the nape of the neck, quite unlike the currently fashionable small bonnets designed to sit on the back of the head.
‘Where are we going, then, miss?’ she enquired.
‘To explore,’ I said. ‘All this is new to me. I was never in London before Tuesday last, the day I arrived.’
‘What, never?’ asked Bessie, amazed.
As we set out across Dorset Square Bessie took it upon herself straight away to act as my guide. ‘Mr Simms says there used to be a cricket pitch here, only they moved it when they built all the houses and turned this space, what was left, into a nice little park. I come here on a Sunday afternoon sometimes and sit watching the people. The nursemaids come with the babies and little ones just toddling in their petticoats. It’s nice.’
She pointed out a house of imposing frontage on the side of the square facing Mrs Parry’s. ‘Mrs Belling lives there. She comes visiting the mistress.’
I was surprised because although I knew Mrs Belling must live
nearby, I had not realised that she lived almost directly opposite across the square. I looked with interest at the house and, as I did, the front door opened and a young man came out. He was tall and lanky with fair hair escaping from beneath his silk hat and, as we watched, he pulled out a gold pocket watch, consulted it, and began to walk briskly in the direction of the Marylebone Road. I wondered idly where he might be going and calculated that as we were walking towards him and he approaching us rapidly from the left, there was a strong possibility our paths would collide.
nearby, I had not realised that she lived almost directly opposite across the square. I looked with interest at the house and, as I did, the front door opened and a young man came out. He was tall and lanky with fair hair escaping from beneath his silk hat and, as we watched, he pulled out a gold pocket watch, consulted it, and began to walk briskly in the direction of the Marylebone Road. I wondered idly where he might be going and calculated that as we were walking towards him and he approaching us rapidly from the left, there was a strong possibility our paths would collide.
‘That’s ’er son,’ observed Bessie.
‘That gentleman? He is Mrs Belling’s son?’
‘Yes, miss, but I don’t know his Christian name. He’s come to our house sometimes with his mother. They play cards. The mistress likes a game of cards.’
I wondered if Mrs Parry knew as much about Bessie as the kitchen maid knew about those who came and went above stairs, and doubted it. But I at least knew the name of Mrs Belling’s elder son from his mother’s extensive account of her children’s extraordinary abilities and recent achievements.
We had reached that point at which I had expected our steps and those of Mr James Belling to intersect. Self-preservation caused both of us to stop. He took off his hat and bowed.
‘I do hope you will excuse me, ma’am,’ he said to me. ‘But I believe you have come from Mrs Parry’s residence and the little maid there works for her. So I venture to introduce myself. I am James Belling. I think you are probably Miss Martin of whom my mother has spoken.’
Viewed closer to hand he presented an amiable but undistinguished appearance. His face was long, his nose rather pointed; his very pale blue eyes blinked at us myopically. I wondered if he normally wore spectacles but had put them aside to walk in the street.
I also wondered what his mother had said of me. I thought I could hazard a fair guess.
‘I am Miss Martin,’ I agreed. ‘I have come to replace poor Miss Hexham.’
A slight flush darkened his pale cheeks. ‘Oh, yes, Miss Hexham. I was very sorry to hear the sad news.’
That was an improvement on his mother’s reaction, at least.
‘Yes, it is very sad,’ I agreed. ‘I did not know her, of course, but I cannot condemn her as some have done. She must have suffered greatly.’
‘Indeed,’ he said, looking flustered. ‘I suppose she did. That is to say, yes, she must have done. I knew her only slightly but I must say she struck me as a most respectable young woman, not unlike you.’
‘Thank you,’ I said, I confess a little drily.
The pink stain on his cheeks darkened to red. ‘Forgive me. I spoke clumsily. I am not a fellow with a great turn of phrase when speaking to ladies …’ He gestured with his outstretched arm and silk hat.
‘Please, Mr Belling,’ I said, at once feeling that I had been wrong to tease the poor man, ‘I am not offended. I am glad to hear you speak well of my predecessor. I am sure you share my hope that the police will find her murderer soon.’
‘Oh, yes, the police!’ he exclaimed. ‘I, that is to say we, my mother and I, understand from Mrs Parry that an inspector by the name of Ross is in charge. Mrs Parry declared that he appeared rather young for such responsibility. My mother also expressed surprise at that news.’ Here James allowed himself a faint smile. ‘My mother has great faith in the advantages of experience.’
‘Really?’ I said. ‘I have met Inspector Ross. I am sure he’s very efficient and, if he is young, then perhaps he will have fresh ideas and be keen to achieve success in the investigation.’
‘We understand, Mother and I, from Mrs Parry that the inspector took notes during his conversation with her. I fancy Mrs Parry was taken aback at having her words written down. She felt almost that she was being asked to make a legally binding
statement. She is strongly of the opinion it wasn’t a thing a gentleman would have done. A lady should be free to change her mind.’
statement. She is strongly of the opinion it wasn’t a thing a gentleman would have done. A lady should be free to change her mind.’
‘I dare say it was to guard against slips in his memory,’ I said.
‘Well, well …’ He gestured vaguely at the surrounding houses as if they might have something to contribute. As they did not, there was a silence during which he seemed to seek something further to say and failed to find it. ‘Perhaps we shall meet again, Miss Martin!’ he blurted suddenly and with another half-bow clapped his hat on his head and hurried away.
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