‘There will be no rascals,’ said Miss Beauclerc and for the first time I thought I could hear a smile in her voice. ‘Your husband is in no danger.’
‘And no police? I know you must be in some kind of trouble to be planning, as you were, to run away.’
‘No police,’ said Miss Beauclerc. Then she ruined the reassurance completely. ‘I was acquitted.’
‘Of what?’ I said, sitting up and peering round the corner of her headscarf to look into her eyes. ‘My son is there too, you see. Young and innoc- Well, impressionable anyway.’
‘Of everything,’ she said calmly. ‘If your son is there perhaps I can make myself useful instructing him. I am a French mistress more than I am an embroiderer, you see.’
I quailed to think what a Frenchwoman of twenty-five whose family had disowned her, acquitted or no, could teach Donald, but before I could say anything everyone turned their heads in unison as the train whistle sounded just out of sight.
‘I’ll be in touch very soon,’ I said. ‘You’ll probably only need to be there a day or two.’ I was comforting myself now. ‘But, I say, I tell you what you could do for me. My dog – Bunty – dear old thing. You could cuddle her and spoil her. Hugh would never be cruel but he neglects her most fearfully when I’m away. I’ve come back before now to find her billeted in the stables, the poor darling. If you like dogs, that is. I’d be very grateful.’
‘I adore little doggies,’ said Miss Beauclerc. ‘What kind is she?’
‘A Dalmatian,’ I said. ‘Not so little. Do you know-’
‘But of course. With the polka-dots like a pretty dress. Such beautiful creatures. I shall give her all your hugs and kisses and tell her of your love.’
With that the train was upon us, snorting and steaming like a beast from mythology in that terrific way that trains always seem to do when they arrive in very quiet country stations (in comparison with great metropolitan stations where amongst the other noise and bustle the trains seem quite tame creatures). Jeanne Beauclerc stood, kissed me once on each cheek, and stepped inside the first-class carriage.
Acquitted of everything, was all I could think of as I made my way back to the Crown. Should I ring Hugh and tell him? I am sorry to say that the thought of Bunty being showered with kisses won the day and I decided that Hugh and even Donald were big boys now and could cope with whatever a Mademoiselle Beauclerc might bring. So I turned my mind to the case again, the great sprawling tentacled monster of a case, still growing and still eluding my grasp with every flex of its muscular form.
‘Sacked?’ said Alec, cackling down the line. ‘Dear goodness, Dan. So where are you?’
‘Back at the Crown,’ I said. ‘Much to the disgust of the widow.’
‘Poor you,’ Alec said. ‘The Horseshoe at Egton is a delightful billet. I reckon I could put up here for a good three weeks until I’d eaten my way through their supper menu and the breakfast I’ve just polished off – words fail me.’
‘Good,’ I said, but he had been speaking metaphorically.
‘I had this stuff – a kind of sausage, I suppose – that goes by the name of black pudding. Have you ever had black pudding, Dandy? It’s a little like boudin noir, only-’
‘It’s a great deal like boudin noir, you goose,’ I said. ‘It is boudin noir!’
‘Really?’ Alec said. ‘I failed to recognise it in the midst of the general fry-up, I suppose.’
‘There really isn’t time for-’ I said.
‘Speaking of fry-ups,’ said Alec, ‘what of Joe?’
‘I don’t think you fully appreciate just how busy I’ve been at this end,’ I said. ‘I haven’t had time to hold Joe’s hand as well as everything else. I’ve made our apologies and he’s on his own. Literally. Poor Sabbatina is so angry with him, she can’t look him in the eye.’
‘Angry with him?’ said Alec.
‘I know, it’s terribly unfair,’ I said. ‘But it’s very hard to be angry with someone who’s gone. And one can’t help but wonder…’
‘What?’
‘Oh, if all the lovey-dovey stuff is genuine or if it was for our benefit, after the fact,’ I said. ‘I mean, he charmed me and he charmed you. His own daughter is most likely of all three to have a clear view of the man. And his wife did leave, after all. Anyway, never mind that. Now I’m released from servitude again we can apportion the tasks a bit more equally.’
‘As long as I don’t get stuck with the donkey work now that you’re available,’ said Alec.
‘You choose first then,’ I replied. ‘I’m just happy not to be reading Milton. Except, clearly, it makes sense for me to talk to the Portpatrick police.’ I heard him drawing breath to ask what about, so I told him. ‘The news that Fleur’s bags were left behind makes me much more worried that she didn’t just take off. And knowing that she had a plan and abandoned it only adds to the concern. They need to put a lot more effort into finding her, if you ask me.’
‘Agreed,’ Alec said. ‘And agreed also that you should do that since you’re there. As far as I can see, the other tasks are finding out about the car crash that killed Charles – thanks for the telegram, by the way; it raised my stock no end with the serving wenches. Got me a sandwich at bedtime. The other thing we need to do is find out what happened to the Misses Taylor and Bell.’
‘And I only hope that one thing or another jogs the whole mess back into gear somehow,’ I said. ‘I’m convinced there’s a pattern there somewhere if I could catch hold of the ends…’
‘My dear, your metaphors,’ said Alec. ‘But I know what you mean. It’s a veritable hydra this one, isn’t it?’
‘Exactly what I was thinking,’ I said. ‘Even if we excise your case from the tangle – ignore Joe, ignore Sabbatina, ignore what Cissie saw – there’s still Fleur and Jeanne and Miss Blair and Miss Taylor and Miss Bell.’
‘And No. 5 and Elf and Charles and another two murder victims somewhere,’ said Alec.
‘And Miss Shanks and Barclay and Christopher and Lovage,’ I said.
‘And the new one,’ said Alec.
‘Miss Glennie,’ I said. ‘But she doesn’t go with them. She’s another like Fleur and the mademoiselle.’
‘What does that mean?’ said Alec. I thought very carefully before I answered him.
‘I don’t know,’ I said, at last. ‘Just a hunch. One of those wispy…’
‘Oh, one of them,’ Alec said, teasingly. ‘Well, I suppose they’ve led you to a solution more than once before now.’
‘They’ve led me up the garden path a lot more often, though,’ I said. ‘And to complete our list there’s “The School”. I almost wish I had managed to stick it. At least until Parents’ Day.’
‘What’s that?’ said Alec. ‘Sort of a Speech Day thing?’
‘Yes, and I found the most peculiar letter from a parent accepting the invitation to it.’
‘Oh?’ said Alec. ‘Peculiar how?’
‘Well, Miss Shanks had it under lock and key for one thing. And it said how pleased the father was with his daughter’s form place and how much he was looking forward to coming for a visit. And it said “Tally-ho” for no good reason I can see.’
‘Well, call for the police,’ said Alec. ‘Tally-ho, eh?’
‘You’ll be sorry you mocked me when the dread deeds come to light,’ I told him. ‘So, Taylor and Bell for you? Or Charles and the car crash?’
‘Oh, Taylor and Bell, I think,’ said Alec. ‘The girl on the desk at the Lambourne Agency is my old friend, remember. I’ve got a head start with her. And anyway, I’d rather telephone than drag myself to a library. It’s fish pie for lunch at the Horseshoe.’
‘Don’t forget the Somerville College possibility if the agency can’t help you,’ I said. ‘Until later then.’ I rang off and remained seated in the little alcove, thinking it all over and planning the course of my day until I grew aware that someone was watching me. Suspecting the widow, I turned with a cold look on my face, but it was only the maid.