02 - Mrs. Jeffries Dusts for Clues (10 page)

She rose imperiously to her feet. “The girl was gone before I awakened the next morning. For all I know, she may have left in the middle of night. So you see, Mrs. Jeffries, neither I nor my servants can help you find this person.”

Mrs. Jeffries stayed seated. “What was the girl you saw at the employment agency wearing?”

“Wearing?” she repeated, obviously surprised by the question. “I don’t know. It was two months ago, I hardly make it my business to remember what kind of dress a housemaid was wearing.”

“I suggest, Miss Everdene,” Mrs. Jeffries said smoothly, “that you try. I should hate to have to tell the police a vital clue in their inquiries couldn’t be obtained because of your lack of recollection.”

The veiled threat hit its mark, and Antonia Everdene blanched and sat down again. “Police? Who said anything about the police?”

“I did. You see, I’m afraid if I’m unable to obtain a little more information from you, I’ll have to go to my employer and ask for his help.”

“Your employer? But you’re not from the police. They don’t have women police persons…”

“My employer is Inspector Gerald Witherspoon of Scotland Yard,” Mrs. Jeffries said calmly. “Mary Sparks is, shall we say, a friend of a friend. She’s disappeared. We want to find her. If you can be of any help in finding this young woman, then I shan’t have to bother Inspector Witherspoon. Otherwise…” She trailed off, letting the implication hover in the air.

“The girl was wearing a dark blue dress,” Miss Everdene said quickly. Her composure was slipping rapidly. She twisted her hands together in her lap, and the movement caused Mrs. Jeffries to note the small gold ring she wore on her left hand. “Naturally, once she was here, she changed into the proper housemaid’s dress. But she was only here for one night.” Her voice rose. “I don’t see why you or anyone else should be worried about one such as her…Bold little baggage, she couldn’t keep her eyes off my fiancé. Not that he would ever take notice of the impudent chit.”

Mrs. Jeffries looked at her sharply. That hardly sounded like Mary Sparks. “Are you saying that she flirted with your intended?”

“Flirted!” she replied in disgust. “It was worse than that, she was positively shameless in her behavior. When she helped him off with his coat, her hands were all over him. The brazen hussy simpered and smiled and coiled around him like a cat. She was so bold that even when she tore her eyes away and
saw me standing in the doorway, she didn’t stop. She just kept smiling and patting her hair and swaying her hips. It was disgusting.”

“I presume your fiancé was shocked by her behavior?”

“Of course he was,” Antonia snapped. “But Malcolm is a gentleman. He pretended not to notice that anything was wrong.”

“And what did you do about her behavior?” Mrs. Jeffries asked.

“Do?” Antonia’s chin rose. “I waited until Malcolm was talking with Father, and then I hurried into the pantry and told the little beast her behavior was intolerable.” The words tumbled out quickly now. “I told her I wasn’t going to put up with that kind of insolence and for her to pack her things and be out of the house by morning—” She caught herself, and her hand flew to her mouth as she realized what she’d said.

“So Mary didn’t leave unexpectedly. You sacked her.”

“Yes,” she hissed. “Of course I sacked her. Her behavior almost ruined what should have been the most important evening of my life. I was furious at her. I knew Malcolm was going to ask Father for his permission to marry me. I was right too, because as soon as I went back into the drawing room, Father announced that he’d give us his blessing.”

“Exactly when did your fiancé propose?”

“Why do you ask? What difference does it make?” Miss Everdene’s eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“I was merely curious,” Mrs. Jeffries said blandly.

“Well, if you must know, Malcolm had proposed to me the evening before. We were at the opera.”

“Malcolm? Is that your fiancé’s name?”

“That’s none of your concern,” Antonia snapped. “My fiancé has nothing to do with that girl being missing.”

“Really?” Mrs. Jeffries replied. “I’d hardly say it had nothing to do with him. He was, after all, the reason you sacked Mary.”

“He can hardly be at fault because some silly maid took it into her head to flirt with him.”

Mrs. Jeffries decided not to press the point. There were other ways to find out the man’s name. “True,” she agreed. “What did Miss Sparks do when you told her her services were no longer needed?”

“The impudent girl laughed in my face.” Antonia Everdene’s expression hardened.

“Did she say anything?” From the look on Antonia’s face, Mrs. Jeffries was sure the girl had said plenty.

Antonia bit her lip and stared at the carpet. “No. She said nothing. She just turned and stalked off. I never saw her again. The next morning, she was gone.”

“Did she take her things with her?” Again, Mrs. Jeffries decided not to press the point. She could easily find out what had passed between Miss Everdene and Mary Sparks another way. Knowing servants as she did, she was sure someone had overheard the exchange.

“Yes. She only brought one small carpetbag with her. It was gone the next morning as well, so I presume she must have taken it with her.”

“Did anyone see the girl leave?”

Miss Everdene shrugged. “No, she obviously left the house before the rest of the servants had gotten up.”

“How did she get out, then?” Mrs. Jeffries asked. She knew most households were locked up tighter than a bank vault.

“The key to the back door is kept on a nail in the kitchen. When the housekeeper and cook went in, they found the back door standing wide open and the key in the lock. Obviously, she got up early, let herself out and didn’t bother to close the door.”

“I see.” Mrs. Jeffries started to get up and then stopped. “Did your father meet Mary Sparks?”

“No,” she replied quickly. Too quickly. “No. Father was gone all afternoon. He might have caught a glimpse of her when she was answering the door, but he didn’t really see her. When he came in that evening, he stayed in the study until Malcolm arrived. By the time we went into dinner, the girl was in her room.”

Mrs. Jeffries suspected this was a lie. But like the full name of the mysterious fiancé, she knew she could get the truth from easier sources. She made a mental note to send Smythe over to try the pubs in Putney.

Antonia Everdene got to her feet. Lifting her chin, she said, “I believe I’ve told you everything I know. If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got an appointment with the dressmaker.”

The interview was clearly over. Mrs. Jeffries smiled and rose as well. She said a polite farewell and turned on her heel. She could feel the other woman’s gaze boring into her back as she left the drawing room and let herself out. She breathed a sigh of relief as the front door closed behind her, and then she hurried off down the road toward Putney High Street.

Mrs. Jeffries caught an omnibus on the High Street. The interview with Miss Everdene had given her the most unexpected results.

As the omnibus trundled over the newly built Putney Bridge, which had only been completed two years earlier, in 1884, she gazed at the dark water of the Thames.

Antonia Everdene was frightened. But why? Sacking a servant, even if the servant did come up missing later, wouldn’t explain the depth of fear she’d sensed in the woman. Unless, she thought, Miss Everdene knew a great deal more than she was willing to tell about Mary’s disappearance. Or unless the lady suspected that someone else knew something they weren’t telling. Someone, perhaps, that Miss Everdene was trying to protect.

It was mid-afternoon when Mrs. Jeffries arrived back at Upper Edmonton Gardens. Deep in thought, she climbed the stairs. She felt sure she’d learned something vitally important from Antonia Everdene, but she wasn’t sure what. She gave herself a small shake as she opened the door and stepped into the hall. There would be time enough to put all the pieces together later, she told herself firmly. As her dear late husband, who’d been a constable in Yorkshire for over twenty years, had always said, during the first days of an investigation, gathering as many facts as possible was the most important task. Making sense and drawing the correct conclusions about those facts should then follow as a matter of course. She mustn’t try to rush things. Justice would be served in its own good time.

The house, save for Mrs. Goodge, was deserted. Mrs. Jeffries took off her cloak and hat and hurried down the hall and into the cupboard under the kitchen stairs. Arming herself with a feather duster and broom, she retraced her steps and started dusting the furniture and knickknacks in the drawing rooms. When the other servants were out on the hunt, she frequently took it upon herself to do their work. Menial labor helped her think. Today she had much to think about.

A half an hour later the mindless, repetitive chores had worked their magic, and she’d decided what the next likely course in their inquiries should be. She put the duster and
broom away, took off her apron and went in search of Mrs. Goodge.

The fruit vendor and the butcher’s boy were leaving by the back door as she came into the kitchen.

Mrs. Goodge gave her a triumphant smile and said good-bye to her guests. As soon as the back door closed, she turned. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Jeffries. I’m glad you’re back.”

“I take it your inquiries have been successful?”

“Very.” She nodded toward the white china teapot on the table. “Do you have time for tea?” At Mrs. Jeffries’s nod, she picked up a cup and saucer from the sideboard.

“I’m not all that sure that I’ve learned anything useful about Mary’s disappearance,” Mrs. Goodge said honestly as she set the tea in front of the housekeeper. “But you did tell me to find out what I could about the Lutterbank family, and that’s what I’ve done.”

“We don’t know yet what will or will not be useful,” Mrs. Jeffries replied. “So please don’t worry about that. Just tell me what you’ve found out since I’ve been gone.”

“The Lutterbanks have lived in Knightsbridge for about five years,” Mrs. Goodge began. “They’s originally from Leicestershire. The money comes from shoes. They own a factory up around Market Harborough way, so I wasn’t able to find out what they was up to before they come to London.”

“But you were able to find out something?”

“Well, I had to dig long and hard to get the few bits and pieces I got today,” she said slowly. “But I did learn one interestin’ tidbit. Last year, there were some right nasty rumors about the son, Andrew.”

“What kind of rumors?”

“The usual ugly ones,” Mrs. Goodge said in disgust. “Seems he was havin’ his way with a young housemaid. Course when the girl gets in trouble, Andrew didn’t want to know. Not at first, that is.”

“Oh, dear. I suppose the poor girl lost her position.” Mrs. Jeffries wasn’t surprised. It was an age-old story.

Mrs. Goodge nodded. “The girl’s the one that always suffers,
isn’t she? Especially them that’s all alone, like this girl was. But it didn’t work out too badly for the lass. She weren’t tossed out in the streets. The butcher’s boy heard the story from the tweeny that lived in the house next door to the Lutterbanks. There was quite a to-do about it all, because the girl went running to old man Lutterbank and claimed that Andrew had forced himself on her. Claimed she could prove it too.” She broke off and grinned. “She must have been pretty convincing, or maybe the Lutterbanks wanted to avoid a scandal, because they paid the girl off and the next thing you know, she’s gone to Australia.”

Mrs. Jeffries looked surprised. “By herself?”

“I’m not rightly certain.” Mrs. Goodge pursed her lips. “I reckon she must have gone on her own if she didn’t have a family. Why?”

“Well,” Mrs. Jeffries replied thoughtfully, “I think that it’s very odd for a pregnant young woman to just up and sail off to a foreign country all by herself, don’t you? If they gave her a settlement, why did she leave? Why not just go to another part of England? The trip to Australia is long and difficult under the best of circumstances, let alone for someone expecting a child.”

“Hmm, I hadn’t thought of it like that,” Mrs. Goodge admitted. “It is a bit strange, unless she’s got people there. Maybe some of her relatives had emigrated? There’s been a lot that’s gone, you know.”

“That could be the answer, I suppose,” Mrs. Jeffries said. “Did you find out the girl’s name?”

“Hello, hello. Anyone home?” Witherspoon called cheerfully from the top of the stairs.

Mrs. Jeffries leapt to her feet. “Gracious, what’s he doing home so early?”

“I hope he’s not here to eat,” the cook mumbled darkly as the housekeeper raced out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

“Good afternoon, Inspector,” Mrs. Jeffries said brightly. “What are you doing home at this hour, not that it isn’t a pleasure to have you here.”

“How good of you to say so,” Witherspoon replied with a broad smile. “I do hope it isn’t a nuisance, my popping in in the middle of the day, but I was just over on Holland Park Road and as I was so close by, I thought I’d come in for tea.”

“Why not at all, sir,” she assured him. “What were you doing on Holland Park Road? Anything interesting?”