Sick of Shadows - M. C. Beaton [13]
“I’ve had enough,” said the earl. “The only thing is to send her out of the country where she’ll be safe. I must say Cathcart’s been a fat lot of good at protecting her.”
“It’s Rose’s fault,” moaned the countess. “Always wilful. And what were the servants about to let her leave the house?”
“If Brum thinks he’s getting any sort of raise in pay after this, he can forget it,” raged her husband.
“I wouldn’t do that,” said Lady Polly uneasily. “He might talk to the press.”
Rose was beginning to feel exhausted as she told her story over and over again to Harry and the superintendent. Matthew had told her that her parents were on their way back and she felt sure that nothing now would stop them from packing her off to India. Inspector Judd had been placed on guard outside the drawing-room to make sure none of the servants was listening outside the door.
“I think the fellow was probably wearing a wig,” said Harry. “I mean the wig, the pince-nez and the black cloak are really all that anyone can remember. I think, Lady Rose, that it would be a good idea to get you out of London for a bit, but not to Stacey Court. You would not even be safe in your country home. I wish we could lock you up in a police station.”
“Wait!” Kerridge held up a hand for silence. “I’ve got an idea.”
Rose and Harry waited patiently while the superintendent sat lost in thought. He was a grey man with grey hair and bushy grey eyebrows. “I correspond still with a policeman in a village called Drifton, near Scarborough in Yorkshire. I met him once when I was up there on a case. Regular chap with a delightful family. Lovely village which no outsider visits. What if Lady Rose and Miss Levine here were billeted with him for a bit? He could do with a bit of extra money.”
“I cannot see my parents’ accepting that idea,” said Rose stiffly. “Furthermore, I have no desire to live with a policeman in some Yorkshire village.”
There was a commotion downstairs. The earl and countess had arrived home. They could hear the earl shouting, “Where is she? And get those damned reporters off my front step.”
He entered the drawing-room, shrugging off his sealskin coat and dropping it to the floor. A footman picked it up and handed it to the earl’s valet.
Kerridge thought it odd that Lady Polly did not hug her daughter. She simply sat down, unpinning her hat and handing it to her maid, before haranguing Rose for having dared to leave the house.
“I have an idea, my lady,” said Kerridge. He told them about his policeman friend in the Yorkshire village.
The earl and countess stared at him in silence. Rose waited for her parents to tell the superintendent he was talking rubbish.
To her dismay, her mother said slowly, “How long would Lady Rose be away?”
“Several months, I’m afraid. Give us a chance to catch this fellow.”
Rose’s parents fell silent again. Lady Polly thought of months without having to worry and worry about her troublesome daughter. She and her husband enjoyed society but they had had little enjoyment recently because of fretting about Rose’s odd engagement.
The earl was thinking that several months away from Cathcart and she might change her mind about this ridiculous engagement.
“Is this policeman respectable?” he asked.
“Oh, very,” said Kerridge. “Good church-goer.”
“And does he have children?”
“Got five young ’uns.”
“Would the police station have enough room to house my daughter and Daisy?”
“Big old rabbit warren of a place. I’m sure he’d find room. I’ll telephone him now, if you like.”
“He has a telephone?” asked the earl, who thought that magic instrument was only confined to the upper reaches of society.
“Yes, he has, my lord.”
“Why can’t I stay with Aunt Dizzy in Scotland, or Aunt Matilda in Dover?” asked Rose.
“Because this murderer can find out who your relatives are and I don’t want you anywhere where there are servants who might talk. Would you like me to telephone this man? He is P.C. Bert Shufflebottom.”
Daisy giggled. “What a name!”
“I’ll have you know, my girl, that Shufflebottom