Buckingham Palace Gardens - Anne Perry [73]
“Yes, ma’am,” Biddie said automatically. “’Course I’ll do it. You just leave it ’ere an’ I’ll bring it up ter you.”
“I don’t mind waiting a few moments,” Minnie replied. “I don’t want you to have to come all the way upstairs again.”
Biddie started to say it was no trouble, then bit the words back.
Gracie was curious. Such consideration did not seem in character for Mrs. Sorokine. She remained where she was, listening. The floor could wait.
“I don’t blame you for being frightened,” Minnie went on conversationally. “I am too. I know the culprit has to be someone that probably we both saw, and on the night it happened. Maybe we even spoke to them.”
“Oh, ma’am! It doesn’t bear thinking of!” Biddie said softly.
“But you can see why I’m concerned, I’m sure,” Minnie said warmly. “My own husband is one of the people they suspect.”
“I’m really sorry, ma’am,” Biddie said in a hushed tone, as if she had just realized the enormity of the crime. “I’m sure you’ll find it in’t ’im.”
“Are you?” From Minnie’s tone it was a question, not in any way a challenge. “How can you be? Do you know where he was? I suppose you must have seen a lot, maybe more than the police thought to ask you.” Her skirts rustled a bit as she leaned forward. “You were up and down the stairs most of the evening, weren’t you?”
“Yeah, I s’pose we were.” There was awe in Biddie’s voice and there was no movement of the iron. It must be quite cool by now, and she had not changed it for the hot one on the stove.
“What were they like, the three women?” Minnie asked. “I didn’t even see them.”
Still sitting motionlessly, Gracie saw Biddie’s skirt give a twitch as she shrugged her shoulders. “Ordinary enough, ma’am. You shouldn’t ’ave ter know about them things.”
“Oh, please!” Minnie begged. “I won’t tell anyone you said so. I just need to know. There are only three men suspected, one of them is my husband. Please!”
Biddie must have looked at Minnie’s face, because she relented. “Well, they was women from one o’ the bawdy ’ouses, not off the street, like. Clean an’ all. At least far as yer can know. An’ dressed quite decent when they come.”
“But they were…professional?”
“Oh, yeah. Yer can tell that by the way they talked.”
“You’ve seen them before?” Minnie pressed.
Gracie was getting a crick in her back, but she dared not draw attention to herself by moving.
“Not them in particular,” Biddie answered after apparently having thought for a moment. “But ones like ’em.”
“Does Mr. Tyndale know them?” Minnie was not yet satisfied.
Biddie giggled. “Not Mr. Tyndale, ma’am. ’E don’t approve of it something terrible, but it’d be more’n ’is job’s worth ter say so. It don’t do ter let anyone think as yer’ve got opinions.”
“No,” Minnie agreed. “Of course it doesn’t. Who finds these women, then?”
“Oh, ma’am…I…”
“Are you telling me you don’t know?” Minnie was incredulous.
“Somebody must have taken them in and upstairs, and then told somebody they were here. Otherwise they could have been anyone.”
“Oh, they was ’oo they said, ma’am!” Biddie responded instantly.
“Who said so?”
“Mr. Dunkeld, ma’am.”
“I see.” There was profound emotion in Minnie’s voice. It was husky, almost choked. Was that what she had wanted to prove, or to disprove? “And when the two of them left, who took them out? And what about the old man who helped carry the box up?”
“When the two o’ them went they looked much the same,” Biddie told her. “Bit used, like, wot yer’d expect. A good few drinks the worse for wear, but not ’urt or nothing.”
“And the old man,” Minnie urged. “What did he look like? Was he strong? Might he have attacked her, do you think? Was he rough-looking?”
Biddie’s voice was gentle. “I’m real sorry, ma’am, but ’e looked like ’e were too old ter be up ter such things. An’ the way I ’eard it, ’e took the box up an’ came down again to his ’orse, then straight back up to fetch the box when it were empty. I’m real sorry, but that won’t ’elp yer, ma’am, much as I wish it would.”
“That’s all right. Thank you,” Minnie said,