“I couldn’t agree more.” Hyacinth’s earrings swung. “And now, my dear Prim, I think we should leave the charm of Merlin’s Court for the charms of home and writing our report to our insurance company employer. Not, Ellie, that things haven’t been entirely delightful here this afternoon with the constabulary buzzing in and out.”
Actually I felt rather sorry for the police. They must have wondered whether they were coming or going. Mr. Digby and Ben had remained to keep vigil over Jenny’s body while I raced home to report the accident, only to find uniformed lawmen spilling all over the ground floor of Merlin’s Court.
Poppa and Magdalene occupied chairs of honour as they gave statements concerning the Raincoat Man (yes, our other villain had staged another kidnapping attempt). Hyacinth, Primrose, and Butler hovered in the background, supplying the occasional salient point. And lounging against a wall with a self-deprecating smile on his lips, was the hero of the hour, my cousin Freddy.
To return to the disappearance of Magdalene, Hyacinth, and Butler, it will be remembered that they had gone in pursuit of Sweetie and each other. And there they were, milling around the grounds near the gates, when Reggie, the Raincoat Man, slithered out of nowhere, yelling “Hands up!” He was in the midst of complaining that he kept kidnapping more people than he really wanted when Freddy stepped, unnoticed, out of the cottage.
My cousin had been harboring nasty suspicions about the Tramwells and Butler. He was certain they had Ben tied up and gagged and were keeping me and Magdalene hostage while they holed up at Merlin’s Court until their boat arrived to take them to France… or something along those lines. He had been rattling his brain trying to think of some way to conduct a rescue without getting hurt himself when there he went walking smack into the bunch of them. Reggie’s remarks suggested to him, as did the gun, that here was the leader of the gang. Feeling chuffed that his theory was right on, our hero stood for a minute, unseen, at the back of the group and was on the brink of fleeing the scene-to fetch help, as he tells it-when he remembered the chains he wore. Slipping one off, he tossed it around Reggie’s neck, yanked until he could hear the villain’s veins pop, then suggested that the gun be dropped.
Everyone (except Reggie) was ecstatic. But Freddy, unwilling to have the excitement peter out, voiced doubts that the Tramwells and Butler were innocent. Figuring Magdalene might be vouching for them under duress, he marched all of them, along with Reggie, into the cottage to telephone the police, which is why I couldn’t find them when I went looking for my missing persons. Magdalene had just persuaded Freddy that Reggie was the only counterfeit in the group when she saw, through the window, Ben and Poppa running down Cliff Road, almost mowing down Primrose, who was searching for Sweetie near the gates.
Magdalene came out the cottage door. Explanations followed. The police arrived, Reggie was removed in handcuffs, and the decision was made to adjourn to the main house. Freddy didn’t have any tea and the ladies expressed a dire need for its reviving qualities. Shortly thereafter I arrived with my news that Mr. Digby’s daughter had fallen in an open grave, Ben had climbed in after her, and we were sure she was dead.
“An afternoon to remember, Ellie, old girl.” Freddy crossed his legs at the ankle and inserted his hands in his pockets, studying his sockless feet.
“Yes,” I said, “and you were marvellous. I’m sure I looked very ingenuous and wide-eyed. If my lids as much as flickered-I saw Jenny.” A chorus of agreement arose from everyone. Ben was showing the last policeman off the premises.
“Don’t say it,” Freddy rejoined. “Don’t say that line about everything I have is yours because, despite the vulgar tattle, I really don’t want Ben. Sorry, darling”-he tossed back his hair-“I just don’t think he is that cute. And this being the eighteenth of May-namely, my birthday-the date Jill and I assigned for renewed communication, I am off to see if she has come to her senses. It’s begun to dawn on me, after watching your marriage close up, Ellie, that life doesn’t have to turn into an old potato after tying the knot.” He spread his hands. “There can still be the thrill of living on the edge.”
“No one can guarantee you the perpetual enlivenment of murder,” I felt compelled to warn, but he was gone. Minutes later we heard the roar of his motorbike.
Primrose sighed sentimentally. “Off to find his true love. And now, my dear Ellie, Hyacinth and I must also bid you adieu. It has been a pleasure and a privilege working with you and I do hope the opportunity may present itself again.” She drew her shawl around her shoulders and glanced at her Mickey Mouse watch.
Hyacinth gathered up her carpetbag and rose from her chair. “Yes, Ellie, do keep in touch. And please spread the word to any of your friends who might be in need that Flowers Detection specialises in Crimes with a Difference.” She shook hands warmly with my parents-in-law. “Goodbye, Mr. and Mrs. Elijah Haskell. I am glad that you may now return to your little shop in peace.” As she came up to me, she whispered, “I do trust they will take the hint.”
To my dismay, it looked like they had. As I closed the front door on the Tramwells, Magdalene began filling her arms with statues of saints. “Well, Giselle, it looks as though you and Ben are about to be alone in your own home.”
“Don’t be silly,” I protested. “You can’t rush off this minute. We have to celebrate that we are all alive and that Ben and Poppa are talking again.”
“Elijah and I are going to celebrate.” I was close enough to see her face flush a dusty rose. “Unlike people of your generation, we want to do it in utmost privacy.”
I grabbed St. Francis as he took a dive. “Are we talking about a second honeymoon?”
She looked at me, then began piling on more statues. “Eli and I never went on a honeymoon. We couldn’t afford it, not that I minded. There are more important things in life, and I’m not the one to hanker for the little extras in life that others take for granted.”
“Are you sure you won’t stay here tonight?”
“Giselle.” Sigh. “I don’t expect you to understand. Eli can be very difficult, but any woman can love a man who is easy. It takes a great love… a rare and radiant passion… as I read in that book of yours-Marriage Made Easy, to love the man who is often unlovable.”
I didn’t listen to any more. I went up to my bedroom and came back down with a tissue paper package. Magdalene reluctantly put the statues down on the trestle table and opened it up.
“A pink nightdress,” she said.
“A pearl-pink nightdress,” I corrected, “made from the gossamer wings of one thousand and one fireflies. Guaranteed to make you irresistible as long as you don’t wear curlers with it or bedsocks.”
She held it against her with one hand and touched her wispy hair with the other. “I must be truthful, Giselle. You weren’t what I wanted in a daughter-in-law. It wasn’t just the religion or your thinking I was a charwoman, it was you being so… tall and thin… and independent. I always hoped my Ben would marry someone… plump and grateful. But first impressions aren’t everything. And I think we’ve grown closer these last trying days.”
“You mean you began to like me a little better when you no longer saw me as a pampered child of fortune?”
“Something like that, but not in those words.” She stroked the nightdress. “I never thought Eli and I would have complicated my boy’s life, or yours…”
“But you have,” I said. “I’ve grown fond of you. Why don’t you go upstairs and pack, and I’ll make you a cup of tea. Oh, one thing… Because I was so nice and gave you the nightdress, how about leaving me St. Francis?”