She waited, unsmiling.
Cobb kept his voice perfectly leveclass="underline" “Youfinished yer chores, then, an’ come down here an’ went straight tobed in yer room?”
Prissy began trembling all over, and Cobbfeared she would burst out bawling and he would be forced to endthe interrogation, as he never knew how to handle a weeping female.“Anythin’ you tell me, Prissy, is confa-dental. Nobody elsewill need to know. I promise.”
Prissy dropped her pretty chin on thestarched border of her apron and kept it there as she said, “Austinan’ me are plannin’ on gettin’ married, as soon as we get enoughsaved up.”
“I see,” Cobb said in his most fatherlymanner. “So you sometimes cuddle in together — to keep warm on achilly night?”
“Once or twice. I know it’s wrong, but — ”
“An’ you an’ Mr. Bragg were in yourroom all last night?”
Prissy nodded.
Damn! Cobb said to himself. There goes twosuspects with one blow. While he was willing to think Bragg a liarand exaggerator, the emotions gripping this pretty but patheticyoung woman before him were unquestionably genuine. She and Braggwere lovers. And yet, he suddenly remembered, Marc had mentionedthat the butler had made a play for Prissy, though it was unclearwhat her response had been. But if Bragg had found out, he wouldhave had a much more compelling motive than ridding Elmgrove of anoverbearing butler. Still, if Prissy stuck to her story, nothingfurther could be done about Bragg — for now. Cobb decided not topress the girl any longer, wary of the female floodgates. Insteadhe said, “You been very helpful, miss. An’ yer secret will be safewith me.”
She mumbled a thank-you, got up slowly, as ifin a daze, and left.
That her affair was a secret here in theclosed community of servants was doubtful, to say the least, Cobbmused. Mrs. Blodgett would know all, chapter and verse. Still, thiswasn’t the old country, thank the Lord, and such goings-on amongthe staff were seldom cause for alarm or dismissal, especially ifthe business was kept discreet. Loyal and competent servants wereas scarce as hen’s teeth in Toronto. Even illegitimate babies weretolerated and often raised in the household, despite the ravings ofseveral churches. Cobb approved heartily. He despised hypocrisy,and found so-called class divisions a prime example of thatparticular human failing.
Back in the kitchen proper, he was glad tosee Hetty busy setting out a plate of ham, rolls and butter for himon one of the several sideboards.
“Help yerself to a glass of ale,” she said,indicating a small cask with a convenient spigot sticking out ofit.
“Is Tillie available to see me?” he said,sidling up to the food.
“She said she’d come out in fifteen minutes.She’s changin’ Mrs. Blodgett’s sheets. I got to go out to the shedan’ scrub chamber-pots. You’ll be all right here on yer own?”
Cobb eyed the cask of ale. “I’ll manage,” hesaid.
Cobb was just brushing the crumbs off his lapelswhen Tillie Janes poked her head out the door of Mrs. Blodgett’ssitting-room at the rear of the kitchen and said sweetly, “I’ll beanother fifteen minutes, sir.”
A fresh mouthful of bread and ham preventedCobb from objecting, so he resigned himself to another half-glassof warm ale. Then he went quickly to the hallway and turned rightinto the servants’ living quarters. Off a narrow, uncarpeted hallthere were four doors on the left and one on the right at the farend. Without knocking he went into the first one on the left. Aman’s room. And from the clothes in the rickety wardrobe he deducedit was Bragg’s sleeping den. It took no more than three minutes tosearch the threadbare, Spartan place where Bragg must collapseexhausted at the end of each day. The narrow window looked as if ithadn’t been opened since summer. In the adjacent room Cobb turnedover two pretty uniforms before realizing he was in the bedroom ofMrs. Macaulay’s maid, Phyllis. He gave the place a quick searchanyway. Next came another man’s room, stripped clean of everythingnot nailed down: the onetime abode of the self-exiled malcontent,Giles Harkness. At the end of the hall on the left he found thesomewhat larger and windowed room of Hetty and Tillie Janes. Theyshared a single bed covered by a brightly patterned quilt. He foundnothing of interest.
As he was leaving, he gave the interior walla sharp rap. To his surprise the partition seemed thick and solid.At least the staff would not have to listen each other snore.Directly across the hall he found Prissy Finch’s room, and althoughthere were more signs of a feminine presence and several frocks notnormally sported by ordinary housemaids, Cobb discovered no hiddenvials or bottles of sherry or pages ripped from the estate’saccounts-book.
Just as he stepped back into the warmth ofthe kitchen, Tillie Janes was emerging from Mrs. Blodgett’ssitting-room.
Cobb smiled and said, “No need to go inta thelittle pantry, Tillie. Looks like we got the kitchen toourselves.”
They settled themselves at the long table thestaff used for their own meals.
“I’m so sorry about the delays, constable,but Mrs. Blodgett — ”
“No need to apologize, miss. Illness ain’tsomethin’ we do to ourselves — usually.”
“Well, at least the dear, dear soul’s had aquiet night. It’s been some time since that happened.”
“I really need to ask you about last night,”Cobb said almost apologetically, “though I expect you were prettybusy right here.”
“I helped as usual with supper preparationsan’ the wash-up. Cal Struthers come in an’ pitched in real hard.Mrs. Blodgett fell into her chair about eight-thirty. We carriedher inta bed before nine. I decided I better sleep on the cotbeside her.”
“So, other than that sad business, nothin’else out of the ordinary happened?”
“No, sir. Nothin’.”
“Yer sister told me she heard you come outhere just after she went inta her room to sleep, about a quarter toten or so.” It occurred to Cobb that young Hetty must have had herbedroom door wide open to have heard her sister or anything else ofinterest out here.
“I come out to make Mrs. Blodgett a cup ofcamomile tea,” Tillie said quickly. “There was still hot water onthe stove.” She looked hard at Cobb, as if she were bracing for afollow-up probe.
“To help the old gal to sleep, eh?”
“Yes, sir.”
“An’ the two of you stayed together, inthere, fer the rest of the night?”
“All night. She’s been sittin’ up a bittoday, an’ takin’ some soup.”
“Glad to hear it.”
“You wanta talk to her — later?”
“Hardly seems worth it, considerin’ she wasmostly asleep an’ not amble-tarry when all the fuss startedupstairs.”
“Thank you, sir. You are very kind.”
Cobb considered himself so, but invariablyblushed when reminded of it. “I’ll just keep usin’ yer pantry, ifit’s okay,” he said. “I gotta make some notes.”
“Go right ahead. I’ll bring you in a cup oftea.”
“Could ya make that a glass of ale?”
He had just finished one laborious page when Tilliearrived with refreshments. Writing came hard to Cobb: his flawlessmemory worked far too fast for his strong, stubby fingers. Normallyhe would have returned to the police quarters at City Hall anddictated his findings to Gussie French. But that was not possiblein this case.
“Ah, lass, just in time,” he smiled.
Tillie nodded, set the glass and plate down,but did not turn to leave.
“Somethin’ else you need to tell me?” Cobbsaid quietly.
“Mrs. Blodgett said I should tell youanythin’ that might have to do with the awful business upstairslast night. She said you’d likely be lookin’ close at Mr. Bragg‘cause he an’ Mr. Chilton didn’t see eye to eye.”
“You heard or seen somethin’ to do with Mr.Bragg last night?”
“I did. But I never thought to mention itearlier. It didn’t seem to have nothin’ to do with Mr. Chiltondyin’ like that. Then I remembered what Mrs. Blodgett told me Ioughta do.”