Read The Cat Who Wasn't a Dog Online

Authors: Marian Babson

The Cat Who Wasn't a Dog (9 page)

‘There must be more than this around!' She looked at me in disbelief.
I shrugged. I wouldn't have bet on it.
‘The larder?' Jocasta lived in hope. She was actually asking Matilda.
‘I don't think we have one.' Matilda looked around vaguely.
‘What about a root cellar?' They both looked at me blankly. So much for trying to be helpful. ‘You know,' I elucidated, ‘where you keep potatoes, onions, carrots, beets – root vegetables.'
‘There's a coal cellar,' Matilda said. ‘But we haven't used it since the Clean Air Act came in all those years ago and we switched to gas-fired central heating. I don't know what's down there now.'
‘It's worth a try.' Jocasta was not going to give up. She strode forward determinedly.
‘There might be the washing machine and dryer.' Matilda did not sound entirely convinced.
‘The light switch doesn't seem to work.' Jocasta was fumbling at the wall inside the door. ‘Have you a torch?'
‘I have a flashlight in my bag.' I began delving for it. Matilda was looking blank again. ‘It's tiny, I'm afraid.' I handed it to Jocasta apologetically. ‘It's really just for reading theatre programmes and suchlike, but it might be better than nothing.'
‘It will do.' Jocasta switched it on and began flashing it about in the darkness behind the door. ‘Oh!' She recoiled abruptly. ‘The steps are broken! What a good thing I didn't go rushing down there without a light!'
‘No one ever goes there,' Matilda said, meaning that she didn't.
‘Watch out!' I warned. Jocasta was leaning into the dark opening again.
‘I'll be careful.' She advanced cautiously. ‘It's just that I think I can see …' She disappeared from sight and I gathered myself to follow.
‘Do you have any matches?' I wasn't quite silly enough to go after her without any light at all.
‘Matches?' Matilda echoed blankly. ‘They're dangerous – '
There was a piercing scream from below.
‘What is it? Are you all right?' I rushed to the door, then fell back as Jocasta stumbled into view.
‘Oh, my!' She moved slowly. ‘Oh, my!' There was a pale green tint around her gills. I rescued my flashlight from her trembling hands before she dropped it.
‘What is it?' Matilda snapped out of her former abstraction enough to register that something must be wrong.
‘Oh, my! … Oh, my!' Jocasta faced her and fought visibly to control her shaking body, her sagging knees.
‘Easy …' I rushed forward to steady her. ‘What's the matter?'
‘Oh, my!' She clung to me, still staring at Matilda. ‘I think I've just found your missing housekeeper.'
‘I thought the seaside was supposed to be healthy,' Evangeline complained bitterly. ‘You can't prove it by us. Every time we come near this benighted town, someone else is dead.'
‘City,' Matilda corrected automatically. ‘It was created a city for the Millennium Year. It's not a town any more, it's the City of Brighton-and-Hove now.'
‘Call it what you like – it's deadly!' Evangeline shot her a nasty look.
Jocasta gave a muffled sob. I was worried about her. She appeared to be going to pieces – and Martha would be furious with me if her recipe-tester and editor were unable to carry on.
‘Finish your brandy,' Evangeline instructed her curtly. ‘You can have another if that doesn't work.' Evangeline had magicked up a bottle of brandy from seemingly nowhere as soon as she discovered the emergency, proving that I had been right about that clanking suitcase.
‘True … true …' Dame Cecile moaned. ‘There's nothing but death, desolation and despair in this terrible place. I wish I'd never set foot in it!'
‘Ready for a top-up, Cecile?' Evangeline didn't wait for a reply and Dame Cecile didn't try to deter her. ‘Anyone else?'
We all held out our glasses mutely. It occurred to me that it might not create the best impression if the summoned police walked in to find us rapidly approaching intoxication, but I didn't care. We had a right to be upset.
‘This is all very well,' Soroya complained, but not until her glass had been replenished. ‘But what about lunch? I'm starving.'
So was I. We looked towards Jocasta hopefully. The show must go on, and all that.
‘I'm sorry.' Jocasta had been raised in a tradition of duty and it clearly pained her to forsake it, but she was adamant. ‘I can't face food right now. I can't even bear to think about it. I may never cook again!'
Martha was going to kill me. No doubt about it. No matter that it was really Evangeline's fault. I'd have been perfectly happy to have taken the train to Brighton, leaving Jocasta peacefully testing recipes in our kitchen.
‘You could still do the shopping,' Soroya suggested. ‘The police won't mind if you leave, you're the only one who doesn't have anything to do with the house.'
‘She found the body,' Evangeline pointed out.
‘I still don't see why you had to call the police.' Soroya had not finished complaining. I was beginning to realize that she never finished. ‘A simple accident has nothing to do with them. Matilda's doctor could do anything necessary.'
‘Unless the deceased was his own patient and he had seen her recently, any doctor would be obliged to notify the police,' Evangeline informed her. ‘We've just eliminated the middle man.'
‘You seem to know a lot about it … for an actress.' Soroya looked at her suspiciously. May she never find out just how much we both knew about such things.
‘After all those murders I solved in
The Happy Couple,
that's not surprising,' Evangeline said.
I breathed a sigh of relief, which was premature. Evangeline might not be going to admit our previous experience, but there was still trouble in the air.
‘I've heard of that series,' Soroya said, ‘but I'm afraid it was before my time. I was too young – ' Trouble was here.
‘Not if you were married to Gervaise Jordan!' Evangeline snarled.
‘I was very young when I married dear Gervaise,' Soroya sighed. ‘Very young – and very much in love. Or else I would have thought twice about saddling myself with an ungrateful stepdaughter. And such a wild, unruly child!'
‘I was forty-six at the time,' Matilda snapped. ‘She hustled the old fool to a Registry Office before I could intercept them.'
The doorbell's sharp demanding peal suddenly cut through the growing atmosphere. I wasn't the only one who jumped.
‘I don't know why you don't get that replaced by some proper chimes,' Soroya complained. ‘Perhaps something with a nice tune.'
The bell rang again. Someone was impatient. We all looked at each other. No one made a move.
‘It's the housekeeper's job to answer the door!' Jocasta said and began to laugh wildly.
‘She's hysterical,' Soroya said. ‘Someone slap her face!'
‘She's not accustomed to finding dead bodies.' Evangeline was not being sympathetic, just contrary. Ordinarily, the slapping suggestion would have come from her – and Jocasta would have been lucky if it had been just a suggestion.
‘I'll get the door.' Matilda started forward as it became apparent that no one else was going to. The bell pealed again.
‘Who is accustomed to it?' Soroya demanded.
‘A little more brandy – ' Evangeline sidestepped the question – ‘and she'll be fine.'
‘ … along here …' We heard Matilda's voice and the tread of heavy feet down the hallway. ‘I'm afraid the only way to reach it is through the kitchen. If you don't count the coal hole in the pavement outside …' They moved out of hearing.
‘It was so awful!' Jocasta shuddered and took a deep
gulp from her glass. ‘The way she just sprawled there … and … and …' She took another gulp. ‘You didn't see it all …' She turned to me accusingly. ‘You didn't take a proper look.'
‘I didn't need to. The smell – ' I broke off. Jocasta didn't need reminding.
Evangeline stepped forward quickly and refilled glasses all round. I tried to catch her eye as she got to Jocasta, but couldn't.
‘May I come in?' We had not noticed the policeman standing in the doorway. He wasn't in uniform, but his bearing was unmistakable; he was the man in charge. How long had he been standing there? I tried to remember what we had been saying. Nothing incriminating, I was sure. I relaxed a little.
‘And who are you?' In Matilda's temporary absence, Soroya was going to play Lady of the House.
‘I …' He didn't like being challenged, but he dutifully produced an identification card and handed it to her. ‘I am Superintendent Thursby.'
‘Thursby!' Evangeline swept forward, brushing Soroya aside, both hands outstretched in welcome. ‘Ron Heyhoe's friend! How kind of you to come so quickly. We only spoke a short while ago. Did you bring Eddie with you?'
‘I'm afraid I'm here on your other little matter.' He caught her hands smoothly, perhaps as much to restrain her as to greet her. ‘And I'm afraid I wasn't able to do anything about your Eddie. When I went to see about it, he'd already been released on bail.'
‘Bail?' Evangeline echoed blankly. ‘But how? So soon?'
‘It appears that he had some high-powered legal beagles at his beck and call. Odd, the arresting officers were of the opinion that he didn't seem the type. Unless he's mixed up in a lot more than we know about.'
‘Don't be silly,' Evangeline said. ‘He's a taxi driver.
Our
taxi driver. Where is he now?'
‘That would be very interesting to know. Along with a few other things – '
‘Er …' I cleared my throat and smiled ingratiatingly. It looked as though it was time to ‘fess up. ‘Actually, I rang Hugh before we left London. To see if he could do anything about Eddie. Obviously, he could.'
‘You might have told me!' The look Evangeline sent me was glacial. Superintendent Thursby didn't look best pleased, either.
‘He may be out on bail,' Thursby said. ‘But he isn't allowed to leave town. They tell me he was quite upset about that.'
‘You may come in,' Soroya announced majestically, if somewhat belatedly, returning his identification card.
‘Thank you, madam.' He advanced farther into the room and took one penetrating look around, not missing the brandy glasses and the level of the liquid in them.
‘You ladies were all here when it happened, I take it?' He was all business now, Eddie dismissed, intent on the problem here.
‘Not when it
happened
, no,' Evangeline said.
‘We
– ' she indicated Jocasta and myself – ‘drove down from London this morning. We've barely arrived. I understand the housekeeper has been missing for several days. The accident must have happened last week. When we were still in London.'
I wouldn't have pushed it so strongly, if I'd been her. If the police discovered we actually had been in Brighton with Eddie recently, they might take a dim view. I wondered just how much liaison there was between local police stations. If we were lucky, we might never find out.
‘I stand corrected. What I meant to say was – ' He swept a laser-like gaze over us again – ‘when the body was discovered.'
Jocasta gave a little moan and dived back into her glass. Everyone except Soroya looked at her sympathetically.
‘And this is the lady who found it?' He was quick on the uptake, moving towards Jocasta before we had stopped nodding agreement.
‘It was awful,' Jocasta moaned. ‘Terrible! I've never seen anything like it in my life.'
I wished I could say that.
‘Yes, very shocking for you. Do you feel able to answer a few questions now?'
‘But I don't know anything. I was just about to prepare lunch for everyone, but there wasn't anything in the fridge. I … I thought I might find some stores in the basement. You know, vegetables, preserves, perhaps tins of meat or fish.' Her voice was growing stronger as she reeled off the comforting litany of familiar foods. ‘That sort of thing.'
‘Lunch!' Evangeline was reminded. ‘We haven't had anything to eat. How long must we stay here? We're starving!'
‘And I have to get back to London.' Jocasta was still clinging desperately to a world she knew. ‘I have a lot of work to do today before a very important meeting with my collaborator in the morning.'
It took me a moment to realize she was talking about Martha.
‘And I have to be at the theatre this afternoon for a runthrough,' Dame Cecile announced. ‘And so,' she added as an afterthought, ‘does Matilda.'
‘All in good time, ladies,' he soothed, then turned back to Jocasta. ‘Now … you were hoping to find some food supplies in the cellar …?'
Jocasta stared into space.
‘You went to the cellar door,' he prompted, ‘opened it and …?'
‘An' I tried to switch the light on, but it wouldn' work.' She seemed to become aware that she was beginning to slur her words the tiniest bit. She pulled herself up and began to speak with elecutory precision.
‘I didn't want to go down the steps in the dark and … and there was a strange smell. As if any vegetables stored down there had begun to rot and wouldn't be fit to eat … Eat …' She retched slightly. ‘I may never eat again!'
‘That's all very well for you,' Soroya snapped, ‘but the
rest of us want our lunch. How much longer are you going to keep us here?' she demanded of Thursby. ‘Just because some clumsy servant has fallen downstairs and killed herself?'
‘All in good time.' Thursby gave her a look that should have stopped an elephant in its tracks, but Soroya was oblivious.
‘It has nothing to do with us. We've never even seen the woman! My daughter was fool enough to hire her – and now look at the way it's turned out!' She was in full Memsahib-from-Hell flow and I saw what Matilda meant.
‘How was Matilda to know the woman was unsteady on her feet?' Dame Cecile came to her co-star's defence. ‘It's not the sort of thing that shows up in an interview.'
‘Nosso cl'msy … coulda happ'n any – ' Jocasta halted and took a deep breath.
‘It could have happened to anyone,' she declaimed clearly. ‘Trixie brought me a torch, we could see that the top step was broken. Those stairs were in a dangerous condition.'
‘I knew Matilda wasn't keeping my house in proper repair!'
Soroya, proved right, was triumphant.
‘Matilda is not – ' Dame Cecile began.
‘Please, ladies!' Thursby, not surprisingly, had snapped to attention at Jocasta's revelation. A light switch that didn't work and a broken top step could add up to more than an accident.
‘Matilda – ' Dame Cecile began again.
‘Right. We can't talk here.' Thursby turned back to Jocasta and offered her a hand to help her rise. ‘I'd like to have a word with you in private,' he told her.
‘Cer'nly …' She rose with great dignity, took two steps forward and crumpled into a heap at his feet.
‘Well!' Evangeline could not hide her satisfaction at a job well done. ‘So much for her driving back to London this afternoon!'

Other books

Rebirth of the Seer by Peter W. Dawes
The Dead Caller from Chicago by Jack Fredrickson
Siege of Heaven by Tom Harper
Lifeblood by Tom Becker
The Unwitting by Ellen Feldman
Ordinaries: Shifters Book II (Shifters series 2) by Douglas Pershing, Angelia Pershing


readsbookonline.com Copyright 2016 - 2024