THE FIRST CASE I PICKED UP ended up being short, so I did another, and another after that, and ended up with a nice dent made in my typing and no progress on my knitting at all before I decided bed was the best option. The next morning I found I only had one case involving forgery and assault to type up and then a free day to decide on a knitting pattern, perhaps go out and buy a new one, or swatch a few lace patterns. I was petting the yarns in the box Ada had given me, trying to decide where I would start, when the bell on the pneumatic tube rang. I considered ignoring it in case Milly had decided Randall’s defense was too complex for her to handle on her own, but no one who knew me would think I had left home so early in the morning.
I could tell at once that the card in the tube wasn’t Milly’s but one of the dull, functional ones Scotland Yard handed out, this one belonging to Constable Kittering. I sent down the key at once and opened the door to the flat for him.
It hadn’t been more than a few moments when I heard footsteps on the stairs and then the familiar blond head in its custodian helmet appeared around the bend in the landing.
“Constable Kittering, how nice to see you. Would you like some tea?”
Constable Kittering shook his head. “This isn’t a social call, I’m afraid.”
“You need to take another statement about the incident on Rusham Street? We can have tea while you do that.” I was going to offer some of Mrs. Albright’s almond cake, but I remembered he didn’t care for it.
“No, no, we have a suspect in custody.”
“Oh, thank you for letting me know.” That was unusual. I hoped he wouldn’t get in trouble with Inspector Wainwright for letting me know.
“And she’s asking to see you.”
“Me?” And then I understood what that meant. “No, you can’t mean...”
“I’m afraid so, miss. Your cousin.”
“But it couldn’t have been her. She called on me before we went there to ask me to go with them. I was with her.”
“Well, she’s asking to see you. You could try to tell Inspector Wainwright when you get there.”
“I will. Let me get my hat.”
“I’ll put the tea things away for you, shall I?”
So he thought things were serious if he was being so domestically helpful. I gathered up my hat and gloves while Constable Kittering brought my plate and cups into the kitchen and put them in the washbasin. I was tempted to see if things were dire enough for him to do the washing-up as well, but I decided it was best to get to the Yard as quickly as possible, so I grabbed up my handbag and keys and told him I was ready to leave.
~*~*~
At Scotland Yard, as I was with Constable Kittering, I was able to pass the lines in the lobby and proceed directly to the staff lift and up to the detective’s floor. Constable Kittering knocked on Inspector Wainwright’s door then stepped aside so I could enter.
Even though Inspector Wainwright had to know I was coming—he had sent Constable Kittering for me after all—he still managed to look irritated and as if I’d interrupted something important. As his—or I suppose more properly Milly’s—summons had interrupted my breakfast, I thought I was right to be equally annoyed. Wasting time on pleasantries would just put us both in a worse mood, so I went straight to the point. “Why on earth did you arrest Milly?”
Inspector Wainwright closed his eyes. “Miss Pengear, do you honestly think I would arrest your cousin if I didn’t have good reason to think she was a suspect?”
I opened my mouth to answer, but he held up a hand to stop me.
“Knowing full well that she is your cousin, and you would take such an action as an invitation to interfere in my case? It is not an invitation, by the way. I feel I should be very clear about that.”
“But she didn’t do it, and if you aren’t going to see that, then I suppose I will have to investigate, or interfere as you call it.”
“I know she didn’t do it, Miss Pengear, which is why she has only been arrested and not charged.”
That did not sound as promising as it should have, but I was beginning to think I ought to be annoyed with Milly, not Inspector Wainwright. I sank down into the more comfortable of the two guest chairs. “What has she done now?”
“Only confessed to the whole thing.”
I groaned. And I’d practically told her the only way I would investigate was if she were arrested. “Do I want to know what she said?”
That made Inspector Wainwright smile. Apparently he was enjoying my troubles. “I don’t know. Shall I tell you and see?”
I sighed. I knew I wouldn’t get the full story from Milly when I asked her. “You’d better.”
He leaned back in his chair and consulted the folder on his desk. “According to her, she’s known about Miss Hayes for quite some time, mainly through conversations Mr. Fetherton had with an acquaintance by the name of Hargrove, who happens to be known to us as a bookmaker and money-lender. Apparently Mr. Hargrove mentioned her name several times.”
Another bit of information I had alerted her to the importance of. “And you’ve already spoken to him,” I said before remembering that Inspector Wainwright didn’t know about that particular piece of investigating I’d done.
Inspector Wainwright gave me a long look, probably deciding if that last comment had been a question or if I knew more than I should. He settled for, “As I said, he’s known to us, and we found the connection between him and Mr. Fetherton early on. Returning to Miss Hayes, Miss Prynne said she decided she wanted to know who the young woman who was leading Mr. Fetherton astray was—apparently Mr. Fetherton was not capable of straying on his own—and set out to follow her.”
“How does she say she found her?” I’d done it through Mr. Hargrove, but Milly hadn’t grasped his importance until I pointed it out, and I doubted she would have known to use him as a source, even fictitiously.
“That is the first of many holes in her story. After her brilliant and mysterious feat of deduction, she located Miss Hayes and began following her across London. Would you like to see the full list of their day’s activities?”
I could imagine the sorts of things Milly would say. A combination of shopping and restaurants she’d been to on some occasion and ridiculous adventures like a stroll through a rookery backstreet to a mysterious door or a visit to some obscure cemetery to lay flowers on an empty tomb. “I believe we can skip that part, as we can be certain none of them actually occurred.”
“You’re certain you wouldn’t like to check on a few of them? Naturally we are required to check every part of her story for evidence we can use.”
I felt rather bad for the constables stuck with that pointless job. “So how did her pursuit of Miss Hayes end in murder?”
“She followed her around town and finally to Mrs. Fetherton’s home. Miss Hayes entered—no, we did not find a key or other means for her to enter the house or a reason why she would do so—and Miss Prynne went around to the box-room window to see what was going on inside. Apparently she had a flash of inspiration that Miss Hayes would make directly for the rarely used box room. Miss Hayes spotted her through the window, a fight ensued—again, no reason they fought, although I assume it was over Mr. Fetherton—and Miss Hayes was strangled with the drapery cord and died.”
I considered that version of events. “The footprints in the garden were too small to be Milly’s.”
“And it would be highly unlikely for Miss Hayes to have fallen where she did if she’d been strangled through the window, although not impossible, I’m told.”
“But you’re holding Milly.”
“Until I have a better suspect, I am holding her, yes. Believe me, as soon as I can release her to your custody, I will.”
I had to admit there wasn’t much Inspector Wainwright could do if Milly kept insisting that she was guilty unless he found proof she had nothing to do with it. At least he was a thorough investigator. I doubted Milly realized how many others at Scotland Yard would have taken her confession at face value and considered the case closed. I got up from the chair. “I’m sorry to have bothered you, then.”
“You don’t wish to visit your cousin?” I think it was the first time Inspector Wainwright offered to let me see a suspect. I was tempted to take him up on the offer for the novelty of it, but I was too annoyed with Milly, and strangling my cousin while actually in Scotland Yard would be very difficult to get away with.
“If she changes her mind and decides she didn’t do it, then I might be interested in talking to her.”
Inspector Wainwright nodded and returned to his files.
I was standing with my hand on the doorknob when something else struck me as odd.
“And I suppose you’ve checked her alibi? The one she gave you the evening it happened.”
“I have someone working on it. And on yours, and the Fethertons’.” He did not seem inclined to share the information with me.
As I doubted Mrs. Fetherton would tell me, it was worth trying to get that information out of him. I adjusted my hat and tugged on my gloves, thinking that seeing I was planning on leaving would put him in a better mood. “And where was Mrs. Fetherton that afternoon?”
“With her son.” From the dry way he said it, I could tell he didn’t think he was giving me anything useful. He quickly read in my expression that that wasn’t the case. “You’re surprised.”
“I thought he’d spent the day with Milly, but then I don’t think either of them actually told me that.”
“Then Miss Prynne seems to be in need of an alibi herself. Good day.”
There didn’t seem to be any more information to be had, so I reached for the doorknob, only to have it pulled out of my hand as the door was flung open dramatically and one of the last people I wanted to see at the moment stood there. Randall Fetherton. From Inspector Wainwright’s expression, he was no happier to see Randall than I was. He also didn’t object when I stepped back and resumed my seat. Apparently I was useful as a barrier between him and Randall.
“Why have you done it?” Randall asked with drama worthy of a fifth-rate theater production. He seemed ready to launch into a full tirade when Inspector Wainwright cut him off.
“Until I know the antecedent of that pronoun, I will not be able to give you a proper reply.”
Randal stopped short and stared at Inspector Wainwright. It seemed confusing Randall was a good way to shut him up. I filed that away for future use. When Randall realized Inspector Wainwright wasn’t going to explain himself, he turned to me with a pleading look.
“He wants to know what you mean by ‘it.’”
“Oh, I thought it was obvious.” Randall flopped into the other guest chair—which I knew from experience had uneven legs and a tendency to wobble—and looked helplessly at me. “I meant why did he arrest Milly.”
“Miss Prynne made a full confession this morning,” Inspector Wainwright answered.
Randall’s head snapped around. Apparently he hadn’t realized Inspector Wainwright could still hear him talking. “But she couldn’t have. I know she didn’t do it.”
“And how do you know that, Mr. Fetherton? Do you have personal knowledge of how the murder was committed?”
Randall looked imploringly at me. I stayed silent. There was no way he couldn’t know what Inspector Wainwright was getting at, and if he was innocent, he could get himself out of this.
Randall fidgeted in his chair for a moment, then he said, “Didn’t she tell you? I mean I would never do anything to hurt her. Millicent and I are meant to be together. I knew from the first moment. That’s why we were out together the whole afternoon. I’m sure she’s as concerned about her reputation as I am, but considering the circumstances, I don’t see that it would hurt to tell you we were looking into getting a license. If you’d give me a moment alone with her, I’m sure I could convince her that there’s no point in hiding it any longer.”
“A license?” Inspector Wainwright asked. “What were you two going to do? Fish?”
I bit my lip and stared hard at the paperweight on the edge of the desk, although that led to imagining it making contact with Randall’s skull and speculation on what Inspector Wainwright would do should that happen. I was beginning to see why my friend Inspector Burrows liked Inspector Wainwright.
Randall stared. “What do you think a gentleman is planning when he goes looking to get a license with a lady?”
Inspector Wainwright snorted, clearly out of patience.
I leaned over and murmured, “You should have said ‘Mildred.’ Milly’s name is Mildred.”
“Isn’t that what I said?”
“No,” Inspector Wainwright and both answered then pretended we had not been simultaneous.
“Well, what does it matter, really?”
Inspector Wainwright closed his notebook. “I would think you would know the name of the woman you wanted to marry. And if you had gotten as far as license forms, you’d have seen it written out.”
“And how do you know it?” he snapped.
Inspector Wainwright wouldn’t be baited. “Her arrest papers.”
Randall turned to glare at me.
I said, “I’m her cousin,” just in case he thought to imply there was something suspicious in me knowing Milly’s full name.
Inspector Wainwright picked up his pen. “Now, would you like to tell me where you actually were, or should I take this desire to formulate an alibi as a sign that you are in dire need of one?”
“Maybe I thought she needed one.”
“Perhaps, but I’m inclined to think you are the one in need, seeing as you care so much for her you forgot her actual name.”
Randall got to his feet. “I came here to help you, but it seems I am not going to be appreciated. You will tell Milly I called.”
“I’ll have the butler take your card to her,” Inspector Wainwright said without looking up from his notes.
For a moment I thought Randall was actually going to hand him a card, then he turned on his heel and stormed out, or stormed as much as he was able, considering the chairs in Inspector Wainwright’s office took up almost all of the space between his desk and the door. I’d never found Scotland Yard offices to be particularly spacious.
Inspector Wainwright stared at his notes until he heard the door close, then he leaned back in his chair. I wasn’t certain if he realized I was still in the office, so I said something to let him know. “That’s not the worst of her gentlemen callers.”
Inspector Wainwright snorted in a way that suggested he wasn’t convinced.
“Back home, she had one who insisted he had been the business manager for all of the big families in town. It turned out he’d worked for almost all of them at one time or another, as an under-footman, and was fired every time when a bit of jewelry went missing. Then there was the policeman who arrested her twice; he was married. And Mr. Winkleford, also married.”
“No murderers yet.”
“No, that was someone else.”
Inspector Wainwright looked up but didn’t say anything.
“So I do have an interesting family.”
“You’ve never met my aunt.”
I waited for him to expand on that, but he didn’t say anything else about the aunt. I was wondering if it would be worth questioning Inspector Burrows about it when he said, “Still think I wanted to arrest your cousin, Miss Pengear?”
I countered with, “Still think I want to investigate this case?”
Inspector Wainwright almost smiled. “Would you like me to have a cab called?”
I could imagine how thrilled one of the constables would be to be pulled away from their work to find me a cab, although if their work was tracking down Milly’s made-up afternoon... “I think I can manage. Good day.” This time, I managed to leave the office before any new problems appeared.
As I made my way out of the warren of offices, I considered my next move. Alibis. I was certain whatever Milly had told Inspector Wainwright she’d done that day was a complete fabrication, but there were other people with alibis, and surely some of those could be verified or broken. Randall was hopeless, and I’d seen more than enough of him for one day, so the best place to start seemed to be with the other residents of 24 Rusham Street. And even if I had no luck breaking alibis, there had to be something at number 24. Some reason Miss Hayes had been there, some clue as to how she got in, something. It seemed the best place to start looking.