Elizabeth brought her thoughts back to the matter at hand. “I happened to be passing by and thought I’d drop in and see if you are well. All this business with Clyde Morgan must have brought back some unpleasant memories for you.”
Rose nodded, her small teeth worrying at her bottom lip. “Well, yes, it did, actually. I’m really not surprised someone shot that man. No one liked him, you know.”
“It really hasn’t been decided if someone shot him.” Elizabeth watched the other woman’s face carefully. “It’s more a theory of mine, that’s all.”
“Oh.” Rose appeared to think about that. “Well, as I said, it wouldn’t surprise me.” She shot a look at Elizabeth. “You’re wondering if I killed him, aren’t you?”
Somewhat taken aback, Elizabeth started to deny it, but Rose cut her off.
“Oh, it’s all right, your ladyship. I can see why you’d think that. After all, I blamed Clyde Morgan for the death of my son.” She paused for a moment, then shook her head. “That was when it first happened, and I wasn’t thinking straight. What happened to my boy was an accident, pure and simple. I know that now. My Arnie, he was a hooligan. Always in trouble. Always coming home covered in bruises… wouldn’t tell me where he got them. He’d been fighting, of course. It was only a matter of time before he got into trouble.”
Rose’s voice faded away in Elizabeth’s ears as the insistent buzz of recognition intensified. Something about bruises… Iris Morgan’s boy… the cat…
It came to her all at once in a blinding flash. Of course. How terribly obtuse of her. How could she have missed something so significant?
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Clovell.” She leapt to her feet, guiltily aware of Rose’s startled expression. “I’ve just remembered something important and I simply must get back to the manor right away. Do forgive me.”
“Of course.” Rose scrambled to open the door for her, barely getting there ahead of her. “It was nice of you to drop by, your ladyship. I hope I might see you again in the future.”
“Oh, of course!” Elizabeth stepped outside, waved a frantic farewell, and hurried down the path, no doubt leaving a befuddled Rose Clovell behind her.
She’d finally put it all together and she needed to talk to Iris Morgan right away. There was no time to go back to the manor now. Supper would have to wait until she’d taken care of this matter.
She fleetingly wondered if she should call George, then realized he would be home by now. The station would be closed. Besides, she needed to confirm her suspicions before she could make any firm accusations, and she was far more likely to get the answers she needed if she wasn’t accompanied by a constable.
Seated astride her motorcycle, she bounced on the kick start and the engine roared to life. After tucking her scarf around her head, she tied it in a firm knot, then set off for the village.
Violet turned down the gas on the stove until the soup was at a low simmer. “We’ll wait another fifteen minutes,” she said, “then we’ll eat without them.”
Sadie sat alone at the kitchen table, impatiently staring at the clock. She wanted to get supper over with so she could keep an eye out for Joe. He’d told her he might be back that evening and she didn’t want to miss him.
“I wonder where Lady Elizabeth is,” she murmured as Violet sat down at the table. “It’s not like her to be late for supper.”
“Probably tearing around the countryside on that motorcycle of hers.” Violet propped her elbows on the table and rested her chin on her hands. “What’s worrying me more is where Martin has gone. This is the fourth night in a row he’s disappeared.”
Sadie looked at Violet in concern. The crotchety housekeeper never confided in her like this, and it bothered her. Violet had to be really worried about Martin for her to let her hair down like this. “Per’aps he’s got a lady friend he’s visiting and doesn’t want you to know,” she suggested.
“No doubt. The question is, what’s a man his age doing out all night and how does he get where he’s going?”
Sadie frowned. She couldn’t quite see the old fogey on a bicycle. She knew he couldn’t drive a motorcar and it was too far to walk to the bus stop. Martin got tired out walking up the stairs. “Per’aps someone’s picking him up.”
“That’s what I think.” Violet sighed. “But who? And where do they go?”
Sadie sat up straight. “What we have to do is follow him! Without him knowing, of course.”
Violet lowered her hands. “I’ve already thought of that. The problem is, he slips out when I’m not looking.”
Sadie reached out and patted Violet’s arm. “You just leave it to me. I’m very good at following people, I am. I followed that little bugger today all the way to the windmill, didn’t I?”
Violet gave her a sharp look. “You followed who?”
Sadie sighed. She and her big mouth. “We found the knickers thieves,” she said, and proceeded to tell Violet the whole story.
Violet’s face grew more and more disapproving, especially when Sadie got to the part about the Americans seeing them with their arms full of underwear. “I just hope they didn’t know you’d come from the Manor House,” she said when Sadie was finished. “Most embarrassing for her ladyship.”
“We never said a word about that,” Sadie assured her. “Anyhow, as I was saying, I’m good at following people, so I’ll watch Martin like a hawk tomorrow and I’ll follow him to wherever he’s going.”
Violet seemed unconvinced. “You won’t be able to follow a car if one picks him up.”
“Watch me. I can go pretty fast on me bicycle. In any case, I can find out who it is picking him up. That’ll be a start.”
Pushing her chair back, Violet rose to her feet. “Well, if anyone asks, I know nothing about it. I’m not asking you to do anything, you understand. It’s all on your shoulders.”
Sadie nodded. “Mum’s the word. Now how about dishing up that delicious soup before me belly button disappears into me back?”
“Enough of that, young lady,” Violet snapped, returning to her usual crabby self, much to Sadie’s relief. “I’ll serve it up when I’m good and ready.” She moved over to the stove, muttering, “Very inconsiderate of her ladyship, I must say. Not turning up for supper without a word to say she wasn’t coming home.”
“Maybe she went down the pub for a pint,” Sadie said with a grin.
“And just maybe I’ll wait another hour for her if you keep giving me lip.” Violet glared at her. “Do you want your supper now or what?”
“Yes, please,” Sadie said meekly. Violet was quite capable of keeping her word, and Sadie was afraid if she hung around in the kitchen much longer, Joe would get back and she wouldn’t be there to see him before he went to his quarters.
She ate the soup and chunks of bread and butter without another word, while Violet played around with hers until Sadie could have screamed with frustration. She couldn’t leave the table until Violet had finished her supper, and the way things were going it looked as if she’d be there until midnight.
At long last Violet laid down her spoon, and Sadie was free to leave the room. Pulling off her apron, she charged up to her room and ran a comb through her hair. After adding a dash of lipstick and a touch of eau de cologne behind her ears, she opened her window and leaned out.
She could just see the edge of the courtyard from there, and sure enough the bonnet of a jeep poked out from the corner of the mansion. The Yanks were back.
Flying along the great hall, with its imposing portraits frowning disapproval at her, she sped toward the east wing and prayed she’d be in time to catch Joe. He didn’t like her calling on him in his quarters. The other officers teased him and Joe wasn’t very good at ignoring them. He was a really sensitive bloke and got embarrassed easily.
At first Sadie had taken it personally, thinking he was ashamed to let his mates know he was taking her out. After one memorable argument, however, she realized that it was just the way Joe was, and that it didn’t take much to turn his face red and make his tongue trip over itself.