Fire When Ready (Manor House Mystery) (14 page)

Oh, dear
, Elizabeth thought. So much for keeping her investigation a secret.

"After all," Shepperton added, "I was the one who rang the fire brigade."

He actually sounded put out that she had waited this long to talk to him, Elizabeth realized with surprise. She tried to sound casual about the whole thing. "I would just like to know exactly what happened. When two people die in such a dreadful way, it's useful to know if there's something we can do to avoid such a tragedy in the future."

Shepperton look baffled. As well he might. She was stringing words together to avoid alerting him to her true purpose.

"Well," he said, "I don't know as how I can help you that much. I heard the explosion, got out of bed, threw some clothes on, saw the factory was in flames, got on my bicycle, and toddled off down to the pub to ring the fire brigade." He reached for a pipe sitting next to him on the arm of the chair.
"First time I've had to use the emergency number. Did you know it rings right through to North Horsham? Doesn't go to our police station here at all."

"Yes, well, I suppose it wouldn't. After all, George and Sid go home at the end of the day. There's no one in the police station at night to answer the telephone."

Shepperton fingered a hunk of tobacco from a tinfoil packet and jammed it into the bowl of his pipe with his thumb. "The chap who answered the telephone told me he'd ring George at home. Don't make sense, do it? I'm right here in Sitting Marsh, I ring for the fire brigade, it goes all the way to North Horsham and then has to come all the way back here to wake up our own constable."

"Then again, the fire brigade is in North Horsham," Elizabeth pointed out.

The farmer struck a match, held it to the mound of tobacco, and sucked, making a smacking noise with his lips. After a moment, a coil of smoke rose from the pipe, and the aroma of tobacco filled the room. "Aye," he said, nodding his head, "I reckon that do make sense, after all."

Glad they had established that, Elizabeth cleared her throat. "Mr. Shepperton, I understand you were unhappy about leasing your land to Mr. McNally."

Shepperton went on sucking at his pipe, but his eyes flicked up to give her a shrewd look when he answered, " 'T'ain't no secret. When I said McNally could lease the land for his munitions factory, he forgot to mention that my land could be contaminated. Not just where the factory is, though that would have been bad enough. Could mean all the surrounding land as well. That'd ruin me. No doubt about that."

"Did you talk to Mr. McNally about it?"

Shepperton puffed out a cloud of smoke and leaned back
in his chair. "That I did. He said it was all nonsense. Showed me a bunch of papers claiming that the factory was safe and wouldn't do any damage to the land."

"That didn't convince you?"

"No, it didn't. These big business chaps will lie through their teeth to get what they want. I told him I wanted my land back and I wanted him gone. Him and his factory."

"What did he say to that?"

"He said it was too late to back out and I was stuck with him until the end of the war."

"I see."

"I know what you're thinking, your ladyship, and you'd be wrong. I didn't set that fire. I might have been a bit of a hothead in my youth, but I know right from wrong. And two wrongs don't make a right. I was going to fight this the legal way, with a solicitor and everything, but the fire saved me the trouble."

Elizabeth was inclined to believe him. Nevertheless, she withdrew one of the letters from her handbag and handed it to the farmer. "Do you, by any chance, recognize this handwriting?"

His shock was genuine. The pipe slipped from his mouth and he grabbed it, the hand holding the letter trembling. "Where did you get this?" he demanded.

"From Mr. McNally," Elizabeth said, sliding by the truth again. "He was concerned about the threats. He told me about them shortly before he died."

"Well, I'll admit there's a few of us in the village who think someone might have deliberately set fire to the factory. It's no secret a lot of people didn't want it there, and that would be a right good way to get rid of it. But murder? Now, that's something else. I just can't believe someone would deliberately kill McNally." Shepperton gave a decisive shake
of his head. "If someone did set that fire, he most likely thought the building was empty."

"Except for Jessie Bandini and Captain Carbunkle. Both of whom were usually there late."

"Well, Jessie usually leaves around midnight or so. As for Wally, he wasn't supposed to be asleep in the building. He was supposed to be guarding it. If he'd done his job properly, McNally and Jessie wouldn't have died."

"Perhaps." Elizabeth held out her hand for the letter. "I agree, there may not be a connection between these letters and Mr. McNally's death. On the other hand, it's too much of a coincidence not to question it."

"What I don't understand," Shepperton stuffed the pipe back in his mouth and began talking with it through clenched teeth, "is why McNally and Jessie didn't get out of there. They must have heard the explosion."

Elizabeth considered telling him about the locked door, then decided to keep that bit of information to herself. If word got around the village, as it certainly would, the guilty person would know she was on the track, making things more difficult for her. Already she was treading on dangerous ground, now that everyone knew she was investigating the fire.

Still, she told herself as she made her way back to the manor, it wouldn't be the first time she'd courted danger. It most likely wouldn't be the last, either. Now that Earl was back in her life, her task didn't seem nearly as formidable as it had a day or two ago.

Feeling hungry, she was anticipating her midday meal when she arrived home. The fragrance of something savory wafting through the hallway intensified her appetite, and even Martin seemed in a hurry to get down to the kitchen.

He'd managed to get the front door open with more alacrity than usual. Having greeted Elizabeth, he speeded up his shuffling gait to such an extent that he had trouble slowing down when he reached the steps to the kitchen.

Elizabeth had quite a bad moment when she thought he might fall down them, but he showed remarkable presence of mind by bumping into the wall instead, thus halting his progress. He stood for a moment, shook his head, then proceeded at a more comfortable pace down the stairs.

Satisfied that her butler was still in one piece, Elizabeth headed for the stairs to the office. There was one person she needed to talk to before she could relax and enjoy her meal.

Just as she reached the stairs, Polly appeared at the top. She was clinging to the arm of a young man, and hastily let him go when she saw Elizabeth standing at the bottom. "Oh, there you are, m'm," she called out. "I wondered where you was."

No doubt hoping I wouldn't return this soon
, Elizabeth thought, watching the two of them descend toward her.

"I was just showing Ray around the manor," Polly said, her cheeks flushed. "I hope that's all right, m'm?"

"Of course it is." She smiled at the young man. "How do you do."

Ray Muggins was a husky young man with greased black hair. He was a little too round-shouldered for someone his age, and had dark eyes that danced with mischief. His features were pleasant enough, but Elizabeth could see no resemblance to Humphrey Bogart as Polly had declared. Perhaps it took a little romance to see that.

He smiled and gave her a courteous little bow that she found quite charming. "Ray Muggins. It's a very great pleasure to meet you, your ladyship." He gazed around the hall
way with awe on his face. "I appreciate you allowing me to view your magnificent home." His London accent wasn't at all cultured, but he managed to sound polished in spite of it.

"I hope Polly has explained some of our history," Elizabeth said, pleased to see the sparkle in her assistant's eyes. For far too long Polly had been grieving over Sam Cutter's departure. It was good to see the young girl brighten up at last.

"Oh, yes, your ladyship. She certainly has." Ray glanced over his shoulder up the stairs. "She told me all about the people in the portraits hanging in the great hall."

"Only the good things," Polly added hastily.

"I'm glad to hear it," Elizabeth murmured, reflecting on the misdeeds of some of her less noble ancestors. She turned back to Ray. "I'm so sorry about the tragic loss of Douglas McNally. I understand you were quite fond of him."

The stark look in Ray Muggins's eyes disturbed her. He dropped his gaze and his voice was unsteady when he answered. "It's terrible. I still can't believe he's gone."

She felt a rush of sympathy. "It must have been a shock to hear that the factory was on fire."

"It was." He took a breath, as if trying to ease his tension. "I was asleep when I heard the commotion downstairs. Fred Shepperton was pretty excited, and that booming voice of his echoed all the way up the stairs."

For a moment Elizabeth was confused, then understanding dawned. "Oh, you're staying at the Tudor Arms?"

Ray glanced at Polly. "That's right. Got the best room in the house. The only one where you can get a look at the sea from the window. I was going to find a place to rent, but now that the factory is closed I'll probably go back to London. Not much work down here, is there."

Polly looked stricken, and Elizabeth said quickly, "Oh, but there are plans to rebuild the factory. I'm sure it won't take long to repair the damage done by the fire. Perhaps you could find something in North Horsham until it's opened again."

"Yeah," Polly said eagerly. "I bet there's lots of jobs in North Horsham."

"We'll have to see." His eyes avoided Elizabeth's.

"Polly tells me you were at the factory when the fire brigade arrived," Elizabeth said, guiding the conversation back to where she wanted it.

Ray was obviously reluctant to talk about it. "I heard Shepperton ringing the fire brigade," he said, his voice low and muffled. "So I got up and got dressed and took my bike up there." He shook his head, as if trying to erase the memory. "There were flames coming out the roof, then part of it caved in. I never saw nothing like it. Sparks shooting up in the sky like rockets. By the time the brigade got there, the fire had a pretty good hold."

"You were there when they found Mr. McNally and Jessie in the office, then."

There was a long pause before he answered this time. "I couldn't believe it. He should never have been working there that time of night."

"Do you have any idea why he was working so late that night?" Elizabeth asked gently. She hated to pursue the questions when the young man was obviously devastated by the tragedy, but it was possible he had some vital answers to things that were puzzling her.

Ray lifted his shoulders in a shrug. His face was drawn with pain, and he gazed up at the ceiling as if searching for an answer. "I don't have the foggiest idea. He'd hang around
sometimes after everyone had gone, just to finish up something, but I don't know how late he stayed. He could have been there to check up on Wally. Make sure he wasn't asleep on the job. Wally wasn't that reliable, you know. Douglas talked about catching him off guard one night. Maybe that was it."

"Polly told me you sometimes worked overtime."

"Just one night, that's all. I like to get out once my work day is done. The people I was training all went home, so there was nothing much for me to do anyway. The only time I stayed over was to finish up our first order. It was running late because people were still learning the assembly lines, so I stayed to help finish it, that's all. That was a week before the fire."

"Did Mr. McNally usually lock his office when he went home at night?"

Ray looked uneasy. "I can't say for sure, but I should think he would. After all, all the plans for the weapons were in a safe in his office. I reckon he'd want to keep it locked up."

"But he didn't keep it locked in the daytime?"

"I don't think so." The young man's gaze had sharpened with suspicion. "Excuse me, your ladyship, but why all the questions? Is there something going on I should know about?"

"Not really." Elizabeth gave him a reassuring smile. "I just like to know all the details, that's all."

"Because if there is," Ray went on, "if you think someone was up to no good that night, I'd really like to help find out what went on."

Surprised by the offer, Elizabeth murmured, "Thank you, Ray. I'll keep that in mind."

"Please do, m'm. After all, poking around in a place like that could be dangerous. We wouldn't want anything bad to happen to you, too, would we, Polly?"

Polly looked shocked. "Oh, no, m'm. We certainly wouldn't. Please be careful."

"I'm always careful," Elizabeth assured her assistant.

"Well, I must be off." Ray nodded at Elizabeth. "Thank you again, your ladyship. You have a lovely home."

"My pleasure." Elizabeth watched him leave with Polly. She'd misjudged the young man. He seemed intelligent and thoughtful. Polly could do a lot worse.

For now, however, she had someone else on her mind. Someone who she hoped could shed some light on this puzzle and give her some answers. Right now she was walking down a blind alley, and something told her if she didn't find the answers soon, there could be a few nasty surprises waiting for her.

CHAPTER

10

Dr. Robert Sheridan was most accommodating when he finally came to the telephone. After apologizing for keeping Elizabeth waiting, he did not sound reluctant to answer her questions.

"Both Douglas McNally and Jessie Bandini died from smoke inhalation," he told her.

That brought her a measure of relief. At least they hadn't had to face the horror of the flames. "The key to the cottage is missing. Did you happen to find any keys on Mr. McNally?" she asked. With any luck, the doctor wouldn't realize that the cottage was not on her estate.

"Keys?" There was a slight pause, then he added, "No, I didn't find any. But then lots of people don't carry their
house key with them. In case they lose it, I suppose. Perhaps he left it under the mat?"