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I excused myself immediately after luncheon, beckoning Aunt Butty to follow me. We met in the upper hall outside our rooms.
“Why the cloak and dagger business?” she hissed.
I quickly explained my increasing worries about Maddie. “I need to find her. Get her to talk to Willis before he gets any more suspicious.”
“Perhaps you can forestall him. She’s been with you for yonks.”
“She’s only been with me two years. That’s hardly yonks.” I glanced around. “And if he finds out the truth...”
Aunt Butty’s eyes narrowed. “What truth?”
I sighed. I felt I had to tell her. “Maddie was born in Germany.”
Now Aunt Butty’s eyes widened. “You never told me that. She doesn’t have an accent. Well, not a German one.”
“Her parents brought her to England when she was a small child. Just before the Great War. She told me the truth when I hired her, of course, but at the time, I found it neither here nor there. Still don’t. But Willis might.”
“I understand now why he would. If the thief was a German spy—”
“Maddie is not a spy.”
“But how do you know?” Aunt Butty insisted. “She could still have ties there.”
“Because she’s Jewish.” There. I’d said it.
Aunt Butty blinked. “Oh. Well, that certainly resolves the spy issue.” She seemed completely unfazed about Maddie’s origins. Which I should have expected. The rest of the world might turn up their noses, but Aunt Butty never judged a person on her ancestors. After all, according to her, our own ancestors hadn’t exactly been entirely upright.
“Right, so we need to find her.”
“Yes,” Aunt Butty agreed, “although for her sake, she may want to avoid mentioning the German angle.”
“No doubt,” I said drily. “I’ll check the maids’ rooms first. Then brave the kitchens.”
“Very daring of you. And while you do that, I shall try and get the goods from Harry.”
My aunt had been reading American detective stories again. Get the goods, indeed. No doubt she’d get him drunk. Aunt Butty could drink any man under the table. She claimed she’d learned a few tricks whilst visiting a friend in Dublin. I had no doubt of it.
The servants’ quarters were in the attic, four flights up. By the time I reached the top of the somewhat rickety staircase, I had a stitch in my side and was feeling a bit winded. I could dance all night if the mood struck, but stairs were the Devil’s work.
At the top of the stairs was a long, narrow hall with doors on either side. I’d no idea which room was Maddie’s, so I knocked on the first door. When I got no answer, I pushed it open. The room was painted stark white, with no adornments save a wooden cross on the wall, just a bare wood floor and a narrow cot for a bed. Next to the bed was a stand holding a cheap lamp and a ragged copy of the Bible. A wash stand stood in one corner and there were pegs for hanging clothes, one empty and one containing what looked like a dress for Sunday best and a simple straw hat. Depressing.
The next room was much the same, save instead of a cross there were magazine cutouts of a couple of well-known actors and actresses, and instead of a Bible there was a romance novel with a rather lurid cover. I approved.
And so on down the hall. The smallest, ugliest room of all was clearly Maddie’s. She appeared to be sharing it with one of the maids. I recognized the book on the floor next to a camp cot as one from my own library, and the Sunday best dress and hat on the spare hook as Maddie’s own. But of Maddie there was no sign.
I tromped down the many flights of stairs to the kitchen. The clanging of pots assailed my ears and the yeasty scent of fresh-baked bread teased my nose as I rounded a corner. I popped my head through the doorway. At first no one noticed.
The woman I assumed was “Cook” was bent over the stove, tasting something bubbling in a pot. Her wide backside stretched her gray uniform dress to the utmost and the large apron wrapped around her middle was well worn and more off-white than white. Next to her, a nervous young girl in a matching oversized apron fidgeted. There was no one else in the room.
“Does it taste alright?” the girl asked in a high-pitched, nervous tone. Her large eyes protruded slightly from a narrow face and her overbite could have given Binky a run for his money.
The cook smacked her lips. “Needs salt.” She pinched some from a bowl next to the stove, added it, and gave the pot a stir. Another sample and, “That’ll do it.”
They both turned at that moment and spotted me. Cook frowned mightily, the heavy features of her face making her look positively fearsome. “Your ladyship shouldn’t be down here. Not proper.”
“I’m looking for my maid. Maddie. Have you seen her?” I asked, ignoring proprieties as I often did.
“No, m’lady. Have you, Joany?” Cook fixed a glare on the young girl.
Joany looked like she might faint. “N-no, Cook. Not since this morning.”
I sighed. “Oh, dear. I really must speak to her. I don’t suppose the other maids have seen her?”
“They’re about their duties, m’lady. No time to be babysitting some, ah, anyone,” Cook said firmly.
“Right. Well, thanks ever so.” I gave them an airy wave and headed back upstairs, unsure where to search next. The library, perhaps? Maddie always did like hiding out in mine, such as it was. I imagined that a proper library in a manor such as this must be irresistible.
The library was next door to Harry’s study. The study door was closed, and I wondered if the police were done...doing whatever it was they did. I hadn’t seen or heard them leave, but that meant nothing in this massive house.
I pushed open the door of the library, straining to see in the dim light streaming from the tiny gap in the curtains. Either the maids were shirking their duties, or Harry was very devoted to protecting his books.
And there, huddled in the window seat, was Maddie. Nose in a book. She glanced up, eyes wide, when I let the door shut behind me.
“Lady Rample!” She scrambled from the seat, dumping a book on the floor in her haste to curtsey.
“Maddie. I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
“Sorry, my lady. I figured you and your aunt were off and I wasn’t needed.” She glanced around guiltily.
“Normally that would be the case, but...didn’t you hear about the break-in last night?”
She shrugged. “Sure. But what’s it got to do with me?”
I sighed. “The police want to question everyone that was here. Including you.”
“But I don’t know anything!” Maddie wailed.
“True. But if you don’t speak with them, they might grow suspicious.” If they weren’t already.
“Will you come with me, Miss? I mean, Lady Rample?”
“I suppose. If I must.” It likely wouldn’t hurt, and I could insure Willis didn’t get out of hand. “I’m not certain they’re still here. The police I mean.”
“Then I could just stay here,” Maddie said brightly.
“Don’t be daft. We need to make sure the police know you’re willing to cooperate. Now come along.” I strode out without looking back, expecting her to follow me. She hesitated, then I finally heard her footsteps behind me. I paused a moment and turned to her. “One thing, Maddie. You brought me my tea at half past ten in the morning and didn’t leave my room until gone eleven. Right?”
“But that’s a lie, m’lady,” she said, giving me a shrewd look.
“Yes. Yes, it is.”
Not knowing where else to go, I rapped on Harry’s study door. There was a shuffling sound from the other side, then the door swung open to reveal the suspicious visage of DI Willis.
“Detective Inspector,” I said, “you wished to speak to my maid?”
“What of it?” he snarled.
I restrained myself from throttling him. “I’ve brought her. Maddie.”
Maddie stepped forward looking nervous and a little ill. I think if the floor had opened her up and swallowed her in that moment, she would have been thrilled. As it was, she just fidgeted.
Willis narrowed gimlet eyes as he scanned Maddie up and down. He clearly found her lacking. “Very good. This way.” He slipped out of the study, shutting the door so quickly I hardly got a glimpse inside.
Shoving past me, he led us back toward the drawing room, currently unoccupied. This late in the afternoon the guests were either napping, enjoying a shady spot somewhere, or perhaps down at the boat house enjoying a swim. And my guess was that a couple of the male guests had gone to the pub in the village to while away the afternoon over an ale or several.
Willis tried to shoo me out, but I was having none of it. “She’s my maid. I will stay and hear what she has to say.”
“Fine,” he snarled. He muttered something about “toffs” which I chose to ignore. Really, I’d half a mind to report him to his superiors. His attitude was simply uncalled for.
He beckoned Maddie to sit, but she shook her head. “I prefer to stand, sir.”
He harrumphed. “Very well. Why weren’t you available for questioning this morning?”
“Sorry, sir, I was unaware I was wanted.” Maddie’s expression was completely blank to the point of being stupid. Which she bloody well wasn’t. I gave an inner cheer for her cleverness. Willis expected her to be stupid, so stupid she was.
“Listen, girl, you should always make yourself available to the police.”
“Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.” She blinked slowly, giving him cow eyes, ramping up the idiot role.
I held back a snicker. “I think she’s learned her lesson, Detective Inspector. Let’s get on with it, shall we?”
He glared at me but did as requested. “What were your movements last night, girl?”
“My movements, sir?” Maddie repeated stupidly.
“Yes, girl, your movements. What did you do last night after Lady Rample came upstairs from tea?”
He meant supper, of course. Tea being a term more commonly used among the so-called “lower classes.” My own father referred to the evening meal as “tea,” lowly vicar that he is.
“Well...” Maddie drug the word out as if she were just discovering it. “Lady Rample come up late, you see, from wot she usually does.”
“How late?” he asked, eyeing me sharply.
“’Bout one in the morning, sir. I’d fallen asleep, you see. And she scolded me.”
“Right. Fell asleep where?’
“In her room, sir. On the sofa thingy.”
“The chaise longue,” I supplied.
“What the blue blazes is a chase long?” he snapped.
“It’s a—”
“Never mind.” He shook his head and turned back to Maddie. “So, you fell asleep, Lady Rample woke you up, then what?”
“I helped her get ready for bed, then I went up to bed myself. I was that tired.”
“What time was that?” He jotted something in his notebook.
“I dunno, sir. Around two, mayhap.”
She was laying the dumb routine on thick. “Yes, about that.”
“Right. Then what?”
Maddie blinked again, slowly. “Why, I don’t know, sir. I went to sleep.”
“And after you slept?” he gritted out.
“Woke up at eight, as per my usual when away from home. Went for a walk, got my breakfast, then went about work. Woke Lady Rample at half ten with her morning tea. Was with her ‘til gone eleven,” she parroted my words almost exactly.
He sighed and rubbed his forehead. “You didn’t get up during the night at any time?”
“No, sir.”
“Didn’t hear anything or see anything unusual?”
“No, sir.”
He sighed again. “And can anyone vouch for your whereabouts during the night?”
“I s’pose Mary can.”
“That’s Mary, one of the household maids?”
“Yes, sir. I share a room with her.”
“Right then. That will be all.” He didn’t bother to thank either of us but shooed us out with a motion of his hand.
“What an unutterable ass,” I muttered as I shut the door firmly behind us.
“Goodness, m’lady, language! What would your aunt say?”
“The same, no doubt.”
“Is it over, m’lady?”
I nodded. “Yes, Maddie.” At least I jolly well hoped so. If only we were closer to knowing the truth.