Once Babcock returned with the news that Violet couldn’t be found, Jennings called for his constables. While they searched Archly Manor from the attics to the scullery, I did another fruitless tour of my own, then went to the drawing room. Gwen stood at the French windows, her hands clenched together as she watched the constables searching the garden.
The police search had included every cupboard, nook, and cranny in the house. Sebastian retreated to his studio and was angry when a constable insisted on searching that room and his darkroom. Lady Pamela was still in bed and had screamed when a constable entered her room. Thea had huffed and gone on about the inconvenience of it.
After she told Longly she had no idea where Violet had gone, Gwen retreated to her room. I hadn’t followed her. I knew she needed to be alone. Gwen was like that—she often went off on her own to sort things out. I was relieved to find her in the drawing room. She’d changed into a day dress and looped her hair into an untidy bun. I wanted to talk about my suspicions. I didn’t think either one of the police officials would be interested in my theories, but I knew Gwen would.
As I joined her, she kept her gaze focused on the gardens as she said, “I’m so afraid something else . . . has happened.” She swallowed. “I keep picturing Violet hurt or unconscious somewhere.”
“I don’t think that’s what’s happened.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t think Violet’s been attacked. I think she left.”
Gwen turned to me. “You mean she ran away? Why? Why would she do that?”
“She’s frightened. Someone is doing everything they can to make sure she looks guilty of Alfred’s murder. I don’t blame her for doing a bunk.”
“But how can you be sure she’s left?”
“Some of her clothes along with her sponge bag and valise are gone.”
Hope filtered into Gwen’s expression. “Really?”
“Yes. When I spoke to Milly this morning, she’d folded a stack of clothes. They were on the bed, but they’re gone now, along with the other things.”
“But how could she leave without anyone seeing her go?”
“When she left me in the breakfast room, she said she was going upstairs. Were you in your room?”
“No, I was in the bath.”
“Then Violet must have gone through your room and used the connecting door to get into her room.”
Gwen nodded. “Yes, she could have done that. We didn’t lock the connecting door.”
“It wouldn’t take more than a few minutes to go to her room, grab a few things, then slip back downstairs. Lady Pamela and Thea were in their rooms, and I was downstairs speaking to Monty in the breakfast room,” I said.
“But then where did Violet go? She’s not in the house or in the gardens.” Gwen glanced out the window. The search had widened. Now the constables were moving along the lawn to the parkland beyond the formal gardens.
“I have an idea. Let’s check something.” I led Gwen through the frills of the rococo reception hall then down the corridor to Sebastian’s study. I nodded as I walked in the door. “I thought I remembered seeing a telephone in here.”
“Why is that important?” Gwen asked.
I crossed to the French doors behind the desk and peered at the handle. “Look, it’s closed but not locked.” I used the edge of my skirt to cover my fingers as I gently gripped the handle and pushed the door open.
Beyond the terrace that ran along the west side of the house, a small area of lawn sloped down to a belt of trees. I walked back and forth a few steps until the sun slanted over the grass at the perfect angle. “Gwen, come stand exactly where I am. You’re taller than I am, so duck your head a little bit and look at the grass. What do you see?”
“The lawn and trees.”
“Do you notice anything interesting about the grass?”
“Well, it’s cut evenly.”
“What else?”
“I don’t see—oh, footsteps in the dew!”
“Yes, that’s it.”
A layer of dew coated the grass on this side of the house, which was still in the shade. I peered at the first footprint in the droplets. The footprint was small and curved, a lady’s shoe. The grass had been slightly compressed underneath it but not totally flattened.
“I can see a trail of footprints,” Gwen said, her voice excited. “They go all the way over to the trees.” Then her tone turned puzzled. “You think that Violet is in the woods? I know she’s frightened of being blamed for Alfred’s death because of the cufflink, but it’s not going to do her any good to hide in the woods.”
“No, I doubt she’s hiding in the woods. I think after she collected her things, she went to Sebastian’s study and made a telephone call to Mr. Brown. She requested his taxi service.”
Gwen looked from me to the trees and back again. “I suppose that’s possible.”
“Violet was following Jane’s example. She knew about Mr. Brown. We stopped there on the way to London. Violet probably gave Mr. Brown the same instructions Jane did. I bet he picked her up outside the gates and took her to Finchbury Crossing.”
“So you think Violet isn’t even on the estate?”
“Exactly. The question is, where did she go from the train station?”
“I may not be smart enough to find footprints in the grass, but I can answer that,” Gwen said. “She’d go home to Parkview Hall.”
“Do you really think so? Won’t that be the first place the police look after they exhaust all possibilities here?”
Babcock came through the doors from the study to the terrace. He held out a tray. “A telegram for you, Miss Olive.”
“Thank you.” I took it, and Babcock melted away as I ripped the envelope open. It was always better to open it quickly rather than let my thoughts get carried away with all the horrible possibilities a telegram could contain.
“What does it say?” Gwen crowded close to my shoulder. “Oh, it’s only Jasper. I thought it might be from Mum, saying Violet had arrived at Parkview.”
“It’s much too soon for that. It would take Violet hours to get to Derbyshire.”
“Well, I’m sure that’s where she’ll go. And I’m going there now.” Gwen headed back to the house.
“Do you think Inspector Longly will let you leave?” I asked.
“Just let him try to stop me. I’m not under suspicion. He has no reason to hold me.” She swept through the door, then returned a moment later. “Aren’t you coming?”
I looked up from the telegram. “No, I’m going to London to speak to Jasper.”