The guests sat as if turned to stone, some of them with teacups halfway to their lips as a screaming and protesting Thomson was dragged away.
“Just domestic trouble,” said Lady Glensheil. “Do not let it spoil my party.” Rose looked across at Harry but he was talking intently to Lady Glensheil and did not seem aware of her existence.
She leaned across and said to her mother, “I have a headache. I would like to leave.”
Lady Polly smiled indulgently at Roger. “Would you mind escorting my daughter home?”
“I would consider it an honour.”
It was then that Harry saw Rose. He hurried round the tables to catch up with her. Lady Polly watched him with furious eyes and just as he was passing her she thrust out her parasol and tripped him up.
Harry fell across the table, sending cups and glasses flying. He straightened himself up painfully because his bad leg was hurting. His suit was covered in jelly and cake. He hobbled quickly out of the room to catch up with Rose.
He was just in time to see her driving off with Roger. “Rose!” he shouted, but his voice was drowned out by the sound of Roger’s car’s engine.
♦
Thomson paced up and down the library, looking for escape. The library was on the ground floor and so the windows were barred.
She stopped her pacing and looked at the fireplace. She walked over and removed the screen and bent down. It was an old, wide chimney with climbing rungs for the chimney sweep’s boys.
She took off her hat and threw it on the floor.
Bending her head, she went into the fireplace and began to climb. When she reached the top, she let out a strangled sob because her way was blocked by the chimney pot. Standing on the last rung, she stretched her arms up and pushed sideways with manic strength. The pot gave a little. She pushed harder until it gave and fell onto the roof and began to roll down to the edge.
♦
Kerridge had just arrived with police officers when they heard a rumbling sound and a crash.
One of the policemen ran outside and then came running back. “It’s a chimney pot, sir, fallen off the roof.”
“The library chimney,” said Harry, who had just joined them wearing one of Lord Glensheil’s suits. “She might have escaped that way.”
They unlocked the library door. The maid’s hat lay in front of the fireplace and a final cascade of loose soot came falling down the chimney.
♦
Thomson knew that the house next door was empty, the owners having gone to the country. She smashed the lock on a back door with a rock and let herself in. Far above her, she could hear the police searching the roofs.
She stripped naked in the kitchen and scrubbed herself clean at the sink. Then, still naked, she ran upstairs and into a lady’s bedroom. Quickly, she put on underclothes, gown and hat. She found a reticule and transferred the contents of her own sooty one into it.
She ran from room to room, ransacking the drawers and picking up as many portable valuables as she could. With a sigh of relief, she found a bag of guineas carelessly left on the bedside table in the master bedroom. She also found a spare set of keys, which by their size she guessed were for the front door.
Thomson walked down to the front door. She picked a parasol out of the stand by the door and took a deep breath. Unfurling it to hide her face, she unlocked the front door, locked it behind her, and strolled down the street. She hailed a cab at the corner.
“Where to?” asked the cabbie.
“I’ll let you know. Just drive on.”
♦
Kerridge and Harry went to St Stephen’s Tavern that evening to worry over this new development.
“It’s a pity Lady Glensheil did not remember that the neighbours were away from home until hours later,” said Kerridge. “A sooty woman running around London would have been easy to find, but there were all the signs that she had washed herself and stolen clothes.”
“Do you think it is possible she is a murderess?” asked Harry. “Might Jones be telling the truth?”
“It’s hard to believe. We never even thought of her. What we should have considered was the oddity of a seemingly respectable lady’s maid taking a post with a well-known tart. It’s a class thing and I fell for it. Me! If she had been some slattern from the East End, I would have been suspicious.”
“If she is a murderess, is Lady Rose is any danger?”
“I shouldn’t think so. Why?”
“I think that perhaps Thomson went to considerable lengths to persuade Jeffrey to make her look guilty. She must be deranged and she may have a personal vendetta against her.”
Harry looked uneasy. “I am barred from her home. I’ve hired two detectives. One of them, Bernie King, is very young and sharp. I think I’ll put him on to following her discreetly.”
♦
Rose’s mind was in a turmoil over the rival attractions of Roger and Harry. She decided the next morning to slip out of the house, go to Harry’s office and ask him outright if he loved her and if they were getting married and what the scene at Lady Glensheil’s had all been about.
She escaped from the house when Brum wasn’t looking, knowing the butler would immediately inform her parents.
She hailed a cab and gave the driver instructions as to how to get to Harry’s office in Buckingham Palace Road.
Her heart was beating hard. It was only when she descended the carriage that a wave of helplessness engulfed her. Harry would say that of course he wanted to marry her and then he would go on behaving as usual. And he had not even troubled to tell her what all that fuss at the tea party had been about.
Upstairs, Bernie King had just received a phone call from Harry, who was still at home, ordering him to follow Lady Rose. Bernie was a thin, black-haired man in his early thirties. He had been in the police force but had been attracted by Harry’s advertisement. He grabbed his coat and glanced down from the window. He knew what Lady Rose looked like, Harry’s secretary having provided him with a photograph from a society magazine.
To his surprise he saw her standing on the pavement outside. He ran lightly down the stairs. He was glad that Lady Rose did not know what he looked like.
She was climbing into a cab. Bernie hailed another cab and followed her. He saw her entering her home. He moved a little way around the square where he could observe the house without being obvious.
At noon, when he was beginning to feel thoroughly bored, he saw a smart motor car drive up and a handsome fair-haired man descended and went into the house. Bernie groaned. If the young man had come to take Lady Rose driving, how could he follow?
The square was deserted. He strolled past the car, looking to right and left. When he came abreast of the car, he leaped into the rumble – that rear seat for luggage and finding a carriage rug, pulled it over himself. If he was discovered, he would need to rely on his boss to get him out of trouble.
After ten minutes, he felt the car dip and the man’s voice say, “I thought we would take a spin down by the river.”
Rose’s voice answered, “What a lovely day!”
Bernie lay for what seemed to him a long time. The couple did not talk much because of the sound of the engine.
At last, the cab stopped. “I believe this is quite a good place for lunch,” he heard the man say. “We can have lunch in the garden.”
She answered something as their voices faded away.
After a few minutes, Bernie cautiously lifted his head. He recognized the Star and Garter at Richmond.
Some people were passing, so he ducked down again. Then he tried again. No one around.
He nipped out of the rumble and strolled into the pub. He went to the bar and ordered a half pint of beer and then carried it to a table where he could look out into the garden.
He felt a pang of envy. They looked such a handsome, carefree couple. He took out his notebook and began to write.