Murder at Honeychurch Hall: A Mystery (12 page)

Vera followed up by offering milk and sugar. When she got to me she gave a polite smile. “Do you take sugar, madam?” There was no sign of the hysterical woman I’d met near the dustbins last night.

“No, thank you,” I said.

“And you, Mrs. Stanford?”

“Oh, there you are, Edith.” Lavinia entered the library dressed in jodhpurs and an open-necked white shirt that looked in desperate need of a good ironing. Her hair was clamped under a thick hairnet. “William had Tinkerbell tacked up for you ages ago. You know how she hates standing around.”

“I’m perfectly aware of Tinkerbell’s temperament and—oh.” She stopped midsentence and frowned. Gesturing to Mum and me, she added, “Who are these people, Rupert, and why are they here?”

Rupert rolled his eyes and stirred his coffee furiously.

“Mrs. Stanford has bought the Carriage House,” said Vera, surprisingly gently. “And this is her daughter, Katherine. You might have seen her before because she’s on television.”

“How lovely.” Lady Edith turned back to me and winked. And then I realized. She knew exactly what was going on. To her, it was all a big game.

“I’ll take a cup, too, Cropper. I’m
parched
.” Lavinia took a seat opposite us. “Did you tell them about Sawmill Cottage, Rupert?”

“Shut up!” hissed Rupert, gesturing to his mother.

“Sorry.” Lavinia reddened and then added with forced gaiety, “Has anyone seen Harry? I’ve been looking for him all morning.”

“Surely he’s with Nanny?” said Lady Edith.

“I’m afraid Gayla’s gone, m’lady.” Vera leaned down and whispered into Lady Edith’s ear.

“Oh, that’s just too bad,” said Lady Edith. “I did like her.”

“We all liked her, Edith.” Lavinia gave a heavy sigh. “But we can’t have a thief in the house. Fortunately Vera caught her red-handed.”

“Did she have the Meissen—the one with the elephant?” asked Lady Edith hopefully.

“No, it’s still missing,” said Vera.

“I must say Gayla didn’t seem the light-fingered type,” Lady Edith said.

“And what is the light-fingered
type,
Mother?” said Rupert.

“Your first wife. I know she took my pearls.”

“The pearls were stolen in the robbery as you know very well,” said Rupert.

“She had ideas above her station, didn’t she, Vera?” Lady Edith went on.

“That’s right, m’lady,” said Vera, pointedly looking at Lavinia.

“We shouldn’t speak ill of the dead,” mumbled Lavinia.

“And we’re reminded of the dead every day with that hideous stone angel. I don’t know what you were thinking, Rupert,” said Lady Edith. “What was her name? Kylie? Carly?”

“
Kelly,
” Rupert snapped.

Catching a spiteful gleam in Lady Edith’s eye I realized it wasn’t just my own mother who played the forgotten name card.

“Where
is
Harry?” said Lavinia desperately. “He must have run off somewhere.”

“We’d love to meet him,” I said, and then wondered if Harry would let on that he and I had already met. The morning was rapidly turning into a farce.

“It’s so tiresome getting him ready for boarding school,” said Lavinia. “We have to drive
all
the way to Plymouth this afternoon to get to the
only
department store which stocks his school uniform and—”

“Never mind,” said Rupert. “Soon you won’t have to bother about him at all.”

Lavinia reddened again. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

“I’ll go and look for Master Harry.” Vera excused herself.

“And what about tonight, Rupert?” Lavinia went on. “We need to find a babysitter unless you can cancel your plans. Vera has the night off.”

“I am not canceling my plans,” said Rupert.

“Well, Edith and I can’t cancel our plans, either,” said Lavinia. “She’s on the sidesaddle committee and this is the last meeting before next month’s event.”

“Get William to drive her there,” said Rupert. “I’m sure he’d love to do that. He’ll do anything for Mother.”

Mum and I exchanged looks. It was as if we weren’t sitting there at all. I wondered if this was how servants had felt back in the day—invisible.

Mum suddenly said, “Kat is good with children. I’m sure she’d love to babysit Harry.”

“Mum!” I was horrified.

“That would be
frightfully
kind,” gushed Lavinia. “Oh, there you are, Harry.” Harry, in flying helmet and goggles perched on top of his head, sauntered in with Vera.

“He said he was on one of his missions, m’lady,” said Vera indulgently. “Top secret.”

“At ease, Squadron Leader Bigglesworth,” said Rupert. “Come and meet our guests, Mrs. Stanford and her daughter, Katherine.”

Harry gave his father a snappy salute and greeted Mum and me with a formal, “How do you do.” To my relief, he made no indication that we’d met the day before and neither did I.

“You shouldn’t encourage him to play that silly game, Rupert,” said Lavinia.

“Give him a break, Lav. Let him enjoy his last few days of freedom.”

“And don’t call me Lav. I’m not a public convenience—oh!”

The library door flew open and a lanky man in his mid thirties with a mop of curly brown hair strode in. He wore a vintage beige trench coat—an odd choice given the sunny weather—over light brown trousers and an open-neck khaki military shirt.

The newcomer seemed highly agitated. “Sorry for the intrusion,” he said as Mr. Chips bounded toward him, yelping with excitement.

Cropper, who had been standing in the corner possibly having a nap, snapped to attention. Clearing this throat he said, “Detective Inspector—”

“You can’t just burst in like this, Shawn,” said Lavinia.

“It’s Detective Inspector today,” he said. “Police business.”

“On a
Saturday
? Why? Whatever’s happened?” said Lavinia.

“I’m afraid I have some bad news.” Shawn paused as we all turned expectantly toward him. I felt as if Mum and I were part of an unfolding soap opera.

“It’s about your nanny, Gayla Tarasova,” said Shawn. “We received a phone call this morning from Nannies-Abroad. Gayla never caught the train last night.”

A twinge of foreboding swept over me.

Shawn took a deep breath and said, “I’m afraid she’s been reported as missing.”

Chapter Nine

“As you know, the first twenty-four hours are crucial.” Shawn helped himself to a cup of coffee but as he plopped in a cube of sugar, it fell to the floor. Surprisingly, Vera made no sound of protest—even when he vigorously ground the granules into the carpet with the heel of his shoe.

Disheveled didn’t begin to describe Shawn’s appearance. What looked suspiciously like dried egg had dribbled down the front of his shirt. Noticing mismatched socks and scuffed brown shoes, I suspected the police officer lived alone.

“Don’t you think you’re overreacting a bit, old chap,” said Rupert. “Gayla only left last night. She might have stopped off to see a friend.”

Harry’s face was creased with concern. “What’s happened to Gayla?”

“Nothing. He shouldn’t be here.” Lavinia stood up and held out her hand to Harry. “Come along—”

“Yes, but I’d rather you stayed, m’lady.” Shawn retrieved a moleskin notebook and pencil from inside his trench coat. “Lady Edith, would you mind taking Harry from the room? I don’t think you’re under suspicion.”

“That’s a pity,” Lady Edith said dryly. She rose to her feet. “Come along, my pet.”

“Why is Gayla missing?” said Harry in a querulous voice. “Is she lost?”

“Let’s go to the stables.” Lady Edith took Harry’s hand and they left the library with Mr. Chips trotting along obediently behind them.

Lavinia turned on Shawn furiously. “See what you’ve done? Harry’s got a vivid enough imagination as it is.” She sat back down in a huff.

“Should we leave?” I said to Mum.

“No, I need you all to stay here—oh!” Shawn turned beetroot red. “It’s—you’re—Rapunzel, I mean Ms. Stanford. Your hair…”

“Please call me Kat,” I said.

Shawn broke into a dimpled smile, revealing a chipped front tooth. “
Fakes & Treasures.
My favorite show.”

“Told you so,” muttered Vera.

“And this is Detective Inspector Shawn Cropper,” Rupert said wearily. “And yes, he
is
related to our butler and cook.”

I glanced over at Cropper who appeared to have dozed off again, carefully wedged in the corner of the room with each elbow resting on a bookshelf.

“My grandparents,” said Shawn.

It certainly explained why everyone was on first-name terms.

“I’ve just bought the Carriage House,” Mum said.

“The
Carriage
House?” Shawn exclaimed. “I thought Lady Edith swore she’d never break up the estate!”

“So did we.” Rupert checked his watch. “Can we just get on with this, Shawn? Gayla did not catch her train. So what?”

“Obviously you’ve never had to deal with nannies, Shawn,” Lavinia put in.

“Some of us can’t afford them, m’lady,” said Shawn.

“They’re all alike,” Lavinia went on. “Unreliable, flighty—”

“Gayla Tarasova is the daughter of a high-profile Russian industrialist,” said Shawn.

“He’s a
what
?” said Rupert.

“She didn’t mention it when I interviewed her.” Vera reddened.

“Her father was waiting for her at Paddington Station last night but she wasn’t on the train. He phoned Nannies-Abroad and they immediately alerted the police.”

Lavinia seemed equally taken aback. “Who is Nannies-Abroad? What’s wrong with our regular agency?”

“I wanted to try somewhere new,” said Vera defensively.

“But don’t we pay Knightsbridge Nannies a monthly retainer?” said Lavinia.

Vera looked down at her feet and didn’t comment.

“How long had Gayla been working here, m’lady?” Shawn asked.

Lavinia shrugged. “I don’t know, about three months.”

“And why do you think she left after such a short time?”

“Perhaps you should ask Mrs. Stanford.” Lavinia’s cold gray eyes rested on my mother. “Didn’t she spend a lot of time with you?”

Mum looked startled. “Not really. I’ve only lived here for three weeks.”

“According to Gayla, she visited you every day when Harry was off riding. I knew the little minx was up to something.” She shot Rupert a filthy look. “And we all know what that was.”

“Don’t look at me,” Rupert protested. “You should ask Eric. He’s the one who attracts the ladies, not me.”

Vera opened her mouth to protest but seemed to change her mind.

“I’ve had two or three conversations with her, that’s all, although…” Mum frowned. “She mentioned a friend called Anna.”

“Anna?” Shawn scribbled in his pad. “Any last name?”

“No, I got the impression they’d come to England together.”

“From Nannies-Abroad?” Shawn asked.

“I didn’t think to ask.”

“Gayla always acted as if she was better than the rest of us,” Vera said. “And she refused to do Harry’s laundry or lift a finger in the kitchen—and then I caught her red-handed, helping herself to one of Lady Edith’s snuff boxes.”

“And when was this?” said Shawn.

“Yesterday afternoon at around three o’clock. I found her on the landing opening one of the credenzas.”

“Doesn’t Lady Edith keep her collections under lock and key?” said Shawn. “At least she used to when I was a kid.”

“I know what I saw,” Vera declared.

“So you
saw
Gayla actually taking a snuff box
out
of the credenza?” said Shawn. “She wasn’t, shall we say—just admiring it?”

“I found another one under the pillow in her room. It was very valuable,” Vera said. “Meissen. From her wild animal collection.”

“And obviously you told Lady Edith?” Shawn tapped his pencil on his chipped tooth.

“No. I put it back,” said Vera.

“We try to protect my mother from domestic issues for obvious reasons,” Rupert said. “She gets easily distressed—especially about her wretched snuff boxes.”

“I see.” Shawn continued to make copious notes. “And what did Gayla say when you confronted her about the snuff box under her pillow?”

“She denied it, of course.” Vera paused before adding in an apologetic voice, “I’m afraid she blamed it on Harry, m’lady.”

“Outrageous!” Lavinia cried. “There was no question that Gayla had to go. I gave her a week’s pay and purchased a single railway ticket—at
frightful
expense, I may add—to Paddington railway station.”

“We’re already checking the CCTV footage at Plymouth and Paddington Stations.”

“Perhaps Gayla missed her train,” I suggested. “When I spoke to her she was waiting for a taxi to take her to the railway station.”

“You
spoke
to her?” Shawn dropped his pencil and had to stoop to pick it up. “What time was this?”

“Around six-thirty,” I said.

“No one offered to give her a lift to the station?” said Shawn.

Lavinia flushed and muttered something about horses.

“Did she mention the name of the company?” Shawn asked me.

“Bumble-Bee Cars,” I said. “I called them later that evening to make sure that Gayla had been picked up, but I just got the answering machine. Perhaps the taxi didn’t show up after all. I feel terrible.”

Mum put her hand on my knee and gave it a sympathetic squeeze.

“Or it did—and the driver had something to do with it,” Mum declared. “You should find out, Officer.”

“We will,” Shawn said gravely. “Thank you.”

“I bet Gayla hitched a lift,” said Rupert suddenly.

“From Cavalier Lane?” Lavinia sneered. “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s a back road. Only locals know the shortcut.”

“Did Gayla say anything else, Ms. Stanford—Kat?”

“Well…” I hesitated. “She did mention that my mother could be in danger.”

“
Danger?
” said Lavinia. “What an extraordinary thing to say.”

“I told you Eric Pugsley was out to get me,” said Mum.

“My Eric said that?” Vera exclaimed. “He wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

“Do you remember what Gayla was wearing?” Shawn went on.

“Jeans, white ruffled shirt, and a turquoise bandana,” I said. “She had a suitcase on wheels.”