CHAPTER 21

Frances got back into the car, and told the chauffer to take her back to the village police station.

She caught Dill just as he was entering after walking his beat around the village. He seemed surprised and a little embarrassed.

“Please, my lady, come inside.” They entered the small front room, and Frances looked around with satisfaction. Mallow would certainly approve of how neat and clean Dill kept it.

“Please, take a seat. And again, my lady, my apologies for having to arrest you. I trust, seeing that you’re out, that charges were dismissed?”

“Of course they were, constable, and no need for apologies. But I’m afraid there is going to be more . . . unpleasantness. I was hoping you could help me.”

“Yes, my lady.” But he sounded a little uncertain.

“I just prevented the arrest of Thomasina Calvin. I think the real murderer wanted to frame her. That has failed for now, thanks to me. But someone is going to be very angry with me.” She took great satisfaction from that.

“I assure you, my lady, I will personally take care of watching over you while you remain in the Eyrie. I will patrol extensively around the house grounds in the coming days.”

“Thank you.” It was a noble gesture, but a single constable couldn’t even patrol a house of that size, let alone the grounds.

“I do appreciate that. And I know Miss Kestrel will as well.” She paused. “And so will Miss Mallow.” She watched him blush. “And if you do uncover anything unusual, report to Mallow. No one will think a constable calling on a maid is anything unusual.” He blushed even more. “Now, as helpful as you are, we’re going to need additional police assistance from London.”

“But my lady, only the chief constable can request help from the Yard.”

She smiled. “I’m not without influence. May I use your telephone?” She had the exchange connect her with a London number—Inspector Eastley.

“Inspector? It’s Lady Frances Ffolkes. I hope you are well?” She heard his sigh over the line.

“What is it now, Lady Frances?”

“I am very close to uncovering the murderer. But I am going to need your help. Can you and Constable Smith make an excuse to come down here for a few days?” She listened to quiet static along the line, and she thought for a moment they had been disconnected.

He eventually started to talk. “Lady Frances. I don’t know where to begin. I can’t just walk away from London to take care of a crime outside of my jurisdiction. I came at Foreign Office request. That particular . . . incident is closed.”

“But inspector, surely a man with your skills can make an excuse—some loose ends, some final files belonging to Sir Calleford that you need to review and collect. That was your initial job, wasn’t it?”

Another sigh. “I must admit you do not have a history of wasting my time.”

“Inspector, that almost sounds like a compliment.”

“Oh very well. I’ll be down tomorrow. Let’s try to keep my arrival quiet, shall we.”

“Just you and me and Constable Dill, who is being very helpful. I look forward to your arrival.”

She rang off. What was that look on Dill’s face? Worry, confusion, astonishment? Perhaps I’ve been a little overwhelming. But I have gotten a lot done today.

“As you gathered, constable, Inspector Eastley of Special Branch, whom you’ve already met, will be coming down tomorrow. It is his great wish no one else know about his arrival. Something is going to happen. I don’t know how, or from where, but I’ll want him standing by. Good day. We’ll talk again soon.”

And with that, she turned and walked out of the door.

Constable Dill stepped outside and watched the Rolls-Royce drive along the main street on its way back to the Eyrie.

“What just happened?” he asked himself.

Like the chauffeur, Pennington gave no sign he knew that Frances, a guest of the house, had just come back from the Morchester police jail.

“Do you know where Miss Kestrel is?” Frances asked him.

“She had tea in the solar, my lady, with Miss Calvin and Miss Hardiman.”

“And Mrs. Blake?”

“The mistress is in her room,” said Pennington.

But Mrs. Blake was not the mistress of Kestrel’s Eyrie, not anymore.

The three women were chatting, but descended onto Frances with questions and sympathy as she entered the room. “How are you . . . are you hurt . . . how dare that inspector . . .”

Over their shoulders, Frances saw Mallow in a corner, working on her knitting. A maid did not sit and have tea with ladies, but Frances had told Mallow to stay with them and she had taken that seriously.

Mallow also knew not to make a fuss. While the ladies besieged her, her maid quickly poured a cup of tea and placed the kinds of delicacies her mistress liked on a plate. “Please take a seat, my lady, and have some tea.”

“Thank you so much.” She eagerly sat deeply into the soft chair and sipped the hot, fine tea. Frances closed her eyes. An arrest, threats, bringing Special Branch back . . . Hal. It had been quite a day.

She opened her eyes to see Gwen, Tommie, and Effie looking at her.

“Effie, are you and your father leaving to go back to London?”

“Dad would certainly like to. He says enough is enough. Mrs. Blake called the chief constable and said there was no reason American guests should be subject to such a dangerous environment. And now we have permission to return to London. But I told Dad I’m staying. And I am.”

A sense of adventure? Love for Christopher? Desire to be mistress of the Eyrie? All of the above? Of course, Mrs. Blake would love to see the back of the Hardimans, her rivals for control of the Eyrie. Frighten them away and use her influence as lady of the manor to get them released. But Effie Hardiman was made of sterner stuff.

Frances took Effie’s hand. “Very good. We’ll see this through together. Now Tommie and Gwen, we managed to thwart the police for now, but they’ll be back. We need to be ready for them. I’ve been making plans. All three of you are to stay together as much as possible. Don’t leave the house.”

Gwen looked fearful, but Frances took her hand now. “You will be fine, my dear. I saw you defend your friend when you thought she’d be arrested. You have more courage than you think. Just hold onto that.” She then looked into Tommie’s eyes, for just a moment: This will end very soon.

“Now, tell me about Mrs. Blake. Pennington said she’s in her room?”

“We haven’t seen her at all since you left,” said Gwen.

“I see. Mallow, I need to refresh myself. Again, the three of you stay together. I’ll see you all at dinner, if not before.” She smiled. “We’ll be strong together.”

Frances and Mallow didn’t speak until they were in Frances’s room with the door closed.

“I know it’s not my place to say, my lady, but to arrest the daughter of a marquess—it’s simply outrageous.”

“The inspector is desperate, so we will make some allowances. But for now, let’s look ahead, and not backward.”

“Very good, my lady.”

“Have you seen Mr. Mehmet since I departed?”

“No, my lady. The ladies had lunch and tea in the solar and Miss Kestrel was kind enough to make sure I was served as well. I heard he and Mr. Hardiman were served in the library for lunch. I don’t know about tea.” When it came to tea, you just never knew with foreigners. “You must be tired, my lady. You have some time to rest before we dress for dinner.”

“Excellent idea. I could use a little rest.” The next couple of days would likely be busy too, and she let Mallow help her out of her dress.

“Miss Kestrel indicated she and the other ladies would be in the solar until it was time to dress for dinner, and with your permission, my lady, I will stay with them.” Mallow picked up her knitting bag.

“That bag looks very full. What are you knitting, a tapestry?”

“Oh no, my lady. I’m still carrying the rolling pin.” And with that, she left, to sounds of Frances’s chuckling.

But Frances’s nap was postponed by the arrival of Mrs. Blake, shortly after Mallow left.

“I just wanted to welcome you back, Lady Frances. I am sorry for the indignities you had to undergo.”

“Thank you. But I was actually treated very well. And I must admit I did provoke him.”

“Yes. I’m curious to know why a lady of your background and intelligence thought it was necessary to provoke a local police inspector.”

“I lost my temper when I saw him bully one of my dearest friends.”

“I find that hard to believe. I’m sure you’re capable of great rage. But you strike me as someone who always controls it, always channels it.”

Frances just shrugged.

“The inspector will be back for Miss Calvin in the next day or two.”

“And my family solicitor will be back as well. With a barrister. I think you will find it hard to separate Tommie from Gwen. Or Effie Hardiman from Christopher. We will all stick together until the end.”

“You will stand up to the police again? The crown prosecutor? The courts of assize?”

Frances just smiled. “Oh yes. You have no idea what I’m capable of.”

Mrs. Blake matched her smile. “Actually, I think I do.”

Dinner in the servants’ hall was somewhat unusual. All everyone had clearly been talking about was the arrest of Lady Frances, but no one was going to discuss it in front of Mallow. Indeed, with three murders and an arrest, the only safe topic of conversation seemed to be the blacksmith’s daughter, who was seen walking out with a corn chandler.

Upstairs, conversation wasn’t much livelier. Frances felt that even local gossip would’ve been preferable to endless discussions about gardening and what flowers to plant where.

Over dessert, Mrs. Blake asked everyone what their plans were on the following day.

“I called the vicar,” said Tommie. “I asked if there might be any good works we could do to keep ourselves busy while we are here. He said he will come by with some donated yarn, and we can knit socks for poor children to keep them warm this winter.” Gwen seemed cheered by that. Effie did not look like it was the most exciting prospect.

“If anyone would like, there are several pleasant walks.”

“Now that sounds like fun,” said Effie. “Do you think Christopher, that is, Mr. Blake, would be free to join us?”

“He’s busy on estate work,” said Mrs. Blake. That wasn’t a surprise. Mother and son would not want to spend a lot of time together, considering Christopher’s attraction to Effie.

“It’s out of the question,” said Mr. Hardiman. “Too many funny things going on around here. If you want to stay with your friends, Effie, we’ll stay. But inside, until things are more settled.” Mr. Hardiman was no fool, observed Frances. The scene with the inspector and the attempted framing of Tommie had made it clear that not even the police believed some vague “gang” was responsible for the deaths. “I have some letters to write, business to attend to,” he said, and Effie pouted.

“I have commitments as well,” said Mr. Mehmet. “Will you be taking a walk, Lady Frances?” His smile seemed challenging. She turned to Mrs. Blake.

“Thank you, but I’m sure Gwen would still like the support of her friends,” said Frances. Gwen gave her a grateful look. “We’ll all gather to knit.”