‘Did he touch you?’ Jack was trying to control his temper.
‘Of course he did. I could not stop that. It was your fault. You were supposed to turn up earlier!’ Bessie didn’t sound too pleased.
‘But did he…?’ Jack had seen Bowser leave. He had hidden in a doorway across the street so he wasn’t spotted. Bowser had been whistling a merry tune.
She rebuked him. ‘You should never ask a woman such a question.’
He couldn’t bear it if Bowser had had his evil way with Bessie, but he could see she wasn’t going to enlighten him one way or the other. He also knew not knowing was going to eat him up.
‘What took you so long anyway?’ she said pointedly.
‘If I told you, you would not believe me. Suffice to say, I am lucky to be here at all.’
‘The letter?’
‘I could not find it or anything else incriminating. I was disturbed. However, I did not come away empty-handed.’
He produced the box with a flourish. In the light of the room, he could see how battered it now was. Well, it had been thrown over a number of garden walls.
‘You think it might have something useful in it?’ She inspected the exquisite oblong artefact. The wood was smooth – richly grained walnut was Bessie’s guess – and there was marquetry inlay of a floral design to the top of the lid and the front side. The handle and escutcheon were brass. ‘It looks like a tea caddy to me,’ she said sceptically.
Now that Bessie mentioned it, the box did have a marked similarity to a tea caddy he had once seen at the home of the Bishop of Worcester. ‘I found it hidden in Bowser’s desk,’ he said hopefully.’
‘He probably hid it so his servants could not steal his precious tea; it costs a fortune, you know.’ Why was she being so negative? There wasn’t a hint of gratitude for the efforts that had left him frightened, battered and soaked.
In annoyance, Jack attacked the lock with his knife and he forced open the lid.
Bessie exploded. ‘I send you to get evidence to convict my father’s murderer and all you come back with is a box full of tea!’
This was too much for Jack. ‘You have no bloody idea what I have been through tonight.’
‘What you have been through tonight! What about me, stuck with that disgusting old man.’
‘It was your idea,’ he retaliated bitterly. ‘Anyway, whatever you have put up with, it cannot have been as awful as what I have had to,’ he added childishly.
‘If it was that dreadful, I suggest a restorative cup of tea will revive your spirits!’
Jack was still cursing her unreasonable ingratitude long after she’d slammed the door on her way out. ‘God, I will never understand the other sex.’ He, in turn, banged shut the lid of the caddy, nearly ripping off its beautifully crafted hinges.