The Scandalous Sisterhood of Prickwillow Place (17 page)

Dear Roberta’s voice began to squeak. “I knew it was wicked of us to make her grave in the vegetable garden!”

“Hush, Roberta!” Smooth Kitty scanned the horizon for eavesdropping passersby. Then she sighed. “What’s done is done. We’ll make more prayers. Perhaps, Roberta, dear, you can help us think of some good deeds we might do as a private penance.”

Dear Roberta nodded and snif
f
led. They trudged along Prickwillow Road, lost in thought.

“Anyway, I think the admiral’s a dear,” Stout Alice said, to break the silence.

Disgraceful Mary Jane laughed. “Lucky for you, then, he’s your beau tomorrow night.”

“A dear he may be,” Smooth Kitty said, “but he didn’t tell all he knew about the elephant.”

“And why should he? A private gift for his lady is his own affair,” Disgraceful Mary Jane declared. “Perhaps I’ll marry the old sailor myself. I’ll listen to his stories and eat his chocolates and spend his money. And before long, I’d be a wealthy widow with the world at my feet.”

Dull Martha stopped in her tracks. “Don’t say that you’d stoop to poisoning too!”

Disgraceful Mary Jane felt too cheerful to be offended. “No, Goosey. Time would take care of it for me soon enough. He’s an old, old man. It’s really a wonder he’s lived as long as he has.” She winked at Kitty. “But don’t worry. I’m not ready to abandon our little Saint Etheldreda’s Maidens Club just yet. But I’ll warn you, Alice. Tomorrow night I shall
f
lirt with your escort shamelessly.”

Stout Alice shrugged. “Is there any other way for you to
f
lirt?”

CHAPTER 14

That afternoon the young ladies gathered in the drawing room to work on their embroidered tablecloth while Dull Martha accompanied and coached Stout Alice in her efforts to learn the song she was intended to perform, as Mrs. Plackett, at the strawberry social.

“This is absurd,” Stout Alice protested. “I should beg out of singing, given my grief over dear Aldous and darling Julius.”

“That would only attract more attention,” Smooth Kitty said. “The sooner the people in Ely forget about Aldous and Julius, the better. You must appear to go on with life as usual.”

“But think for a moment, Kitty!” Alice protested. “Heretofore I’ve fooled people by sitting mainly in dimly lit rooms and talking like Mrs. Plackett. How shall it be when I’m standing before a large room filled with people watching me in bright lamplight? What then?”

“People will see exactly what they expect to see,” Pocked Louise said. “Magicians and stage performers rely upon it. It’s how they do their tricks.”

“What do you mean, their tricks?” Dull Martha asked. “I saw a magician once, and it was astonishing!”

Pocked Louise bent over to closely study the strawberry leaf she was fanning with dark green veins of silk.

Stout Alice was wholly unconvinced. “Perhaps with Elinor’s cosmetic arts they may
see
what they expect to see, but they won’t
hear
what they expect to hear,” she said. “I can imitate Mrs. Plackett’s spoken voice passably well, but I don’t sing. The whole game will be ruined by this spectacle.”

Smooth Kitty was in no humor to indulge Stout Alice. “Don’t forget it was you who insisted we must go in the first place.” She knotted a thread and snipped it. “You made this bed; you’ll have to sleep in it.”

“Give me no more talk of beds!” Alice
f
lung up her hands. “I’ve spent far too much time in the wrong beds these last two days.”

“Come on, Alice, let’s try again.” Dull Martha tried to cajole her reluctant pupil. She played the sprightly introduction and sang the opening words herself.

A peacock came, with his plumage gay, Strutting in regal pride one day, Where a small bird hung in a gilded cage, Whose song might a seraph’s ear engage.

Her note trailed off on the last note. She watched Alice hopefully. “Now you try.”

A peacock came …

Stout Alice only scowled at her. “
You
should sing, Martha,” she said. “You can make anything sound lovely. This song is atrocious. “’Tis Not Fine Feathers Make Fine Birds.’ I ask you! What nonsense!”

Disgraceful Mary Jane snatched the music. “Here’s my favorite bit:

Then prithee take warning, maidens fair, And still of the peacock’s fate beware; Beauty and wealth won’t win your way …

Oh, won’t they, then! Give me wealth and watch me. We’ll see if I can’t win my way.”

“It goes without saying, you’ve already got the beauty,” Stout Alice observed archly.

Mary Jane smiled. “Sweet of you to say so, dear.”

Dull Martha repeated the pianoforte introduction and pleaded with her student. “Come along, Alice, you can sing it.”

A peacock came with his plumage gay …

“I’m with Alice.” Dour Elinor stitched sharp thorns spiking from her strawberry vines. (Perhaps she confused them with roses.) “This chirpy song isn’t worth the paper it’s printed on.”

“Then why must I sing it?”

“You’re Mrs. Plackett, and Mrs. Plackett misses no chance to perform,” said Kitty.

Alice took a deep breath and glared at her music. Martha took that as a hopeful sign and began to play once more. “Why not sing the second verse?” she suggested.

“Indeed,” Alice said. “Its second stanza is prophetic. Listen.” And joining with the music, Alice sang, to the best of her limited ability:

Alas! The bird of the rainbow wing

He wasn’t contented—he tried to sing!

And they who gazed on his beauty bright,

Scared by his screaming, soon took flight;

While the small bird sung in his own sweet words,

“’Tis not fine feathers make fine birds!”

Dull Martha paused her playing to applaud Stout Alice. The other girls looked at one another, unsure of how to respond.

“I wouldn’t call your singing
screaming
, per se,” Pocked Louise said cautiously. “I’m sure no one will actually take
f
light.”

Stout Alice
f
lung her music down upon the sofa and
f
lopped beside it. “It’s no use. We must find another plan.” Aldous sprang up onto the sofa and began chewing the sheet music.

“No you don’t!” Smooth Kitty cried. She was already vexed with him for shredding a sofa cushion during their morning walk to town. She thought he should be tied outside as punishment, which made Pocked Louise extremely piqued with her. Saint Etheldreda’s School had witnessed much loud scolding and threatening of the little rascal when the girls returned home, which didn’t bother the criminal in the slightest.

Aldous halted, sniffed the air, then bolted out the drawing room door, barking excitedly. Seconds later they heard the twirl of the door ringer striking the bell. Kitty set aside her stitching, but Dour Elinor, for once, was quicker. “I’ll go,” she said.

Kitty nodded her thanks. “We’ve had more visitors here in the last two days than all the months since we returned from Christmas holidays combined.”

“Shall I go change?” Stout Alice asked.

“No, don’t,” Kitty said. “You deserve a rest. We’ll make something up.”

Smooth Kitty’s gaze
f
litted to the curio cabinet, where the ebony elephant stood, trumpeting its brass trunk high. It had taken all her self-restraint not to gloat to Alice that it was still there, safe and sound. She saw Alice’s eyes locate the elephant just then, and that was all the vindication Kitty needed. It was perfectly safe. Just as she knew it would be.

When Dour Elinor ushered their visitor into the drawing room, Disgraceful Mary Jane’s needle fell from her fingers. Standing straight as a rail next to Elinor, who slumped rather more than not, was the new constable on the Ely police force with the handsome shoulders, looking resplendent in his navy blue suit, conical helmet, and shiny brass buttons. He smiled at the young ladies,
f
lashing the gap between his front teeth and singling out, as he did so, Disgraceful Mary Jane, as young men were so prone to do.

“Good afternoon, ladies,” he said, in an extremely pleasing baritone. “I apologize for inconveniencing you here in your pleasant pastimes.”

“Not at all!” cried Disgraceful Mary Jane, who curtseyed long and deeply for the constable’s benefit. “We’re all bored with needlework and happy for some diversion.”

The constable chuckled. “Most people don’t consider a visiting policeman a diversion.”

Neither, to be frank, did Smooth Kitty or any of the other girls, save Mary Jane. The sight of a policeman struck terror to Kitty’s heart. She could think of no good reason—and at least two very bad ones—for him to appear. But Disgraceful Mary Jane was in such raptures of infatuation that these thoughts apparently had not occurred to her.

“I’m Constable Quill,” he said, “and I’m here to ask a few questions of the lady of the house,” here he consulted a card in his hand, “Mrs. Constance Plackett. May I speak with her?”

“Please do sit down,” purred Mary Jane. “May I relieve you of your hat?”

Constable Quill smiled slightly. “Er, no. We need to keep those on. It’s no bother.”

Smooth Kitty felt someone must prevent Disgraceful Mary Jane from monopolizing this conversation to disastrous effects. One never knew what she might say in the heat of a moment where broad shoulders and crisp uniforms were concerned.

“Mrs. Plackett is not here at present.” Kitty rose and offered the constable her hand. “My name is Katherine. I’m head girl at this school.” She felt twelve eyes shoot daggers at her. They had no such hierarchy among the students, and Kitty knew there’d be a price to pay later among the girls for assuming such airs in public. It was for the cause, she told herself. “Is there something I can help you with while she’s away?”

“Or I?” added Disgraceful Mary Jane.

Smooth Kitty would have liked to yank her roommate’s hair at that moment, but she forbore.

“Perhaps you young ladies can help me,” Constable Quill said. “Do you by chance know if Mrs. Plackett’s brother, a Mr. Aldous Godding, stopped here at all this past Sunday?”

Even Mary Jane didn’t rush to answer this time.

“He did visit here,” Kitty said evenly. “He comes by custom for Sunday dinner.”

Constable Quill pulled a small notebook from his pocket and began writing in it.

“And did he leave at the usual time, and in the usual way?”

Kitty wished she could retract her ‘head girl’ comment. This was spiraling fast. She thought of her namesake, Aunt Katherine.
She
wouldn’t be intimidated by some young bobby boasting new-grown sideburns, not if she’d buried a dozen corpses in the vegetable beds.

“May I ask, Constable, toward what these questions tend?”

Constable Quill
f
lashed a disarming smile, and lowered his notebook. “Of course. A Mrs. Lally, of Witchford, keeps a boarder, and lately Mr. Aldous Godding has been her tenant. She had occasion to drive into Ely today for some marketing she needed done, and while she was in town she stopped at the police office to ask us to inquire into the whereabouts of Mr. Godding. She said he hasn’t been home as expected, these last two nights, and she felt this was an occasion for worry. Nothing he’d said gave her reason to expect he’d be away.”

Stout Alice watched this scene unfold like one might a dramatic play.
You’ll do well, Kitty,
she thought, hoping somehow her confidence might travel to Kitty’s mind. Disgraceful Mary Jane was glad not to be called upon to speak, yet felt an absurd tinge of jealousy that Kitty should take control of Constable Quill at this moment, and not she.

“That’s easily explained, Constable,” Kitty said. She made a mental effort to speak slowly. This wasn’t anywhere near as bad as it might have been. But why did she never consider Mr. Godding’s lodgings, and the others who would notice his absence? Foolish, foolish. “During their Sunday visit, our headmistress and Mr. Godding received distressing news about a young relative of theirs in India. His health is poor. Mr. Godding left immediately for London to board a ship bound for India, so he could be with his nephew.”

The constable was back to smiling and scribbling. “Ah, there, see, there’s always a reasonable explanation, isn’t there? I told Mrs. Lally it’d all come to nothing.” He scribbled some more, then paused. “Did he say he would stop at home for some clothes and personal effects before leaving on his journey?”

Smooth Kitty began to despise the gap in the teeth which Mary Jane found so bewitching. “I was not aware of his plans in detail,” she replied. “I only know he left straightaway.”

“’Course. Makes sense.” He closed his notebook with a snap. “It’s a pleasure to meet you young ladies. I hope it’s a pleasure I’ll have again.” He nodded, chie
f
ly in Mary Jane’s direction. She favored him with a beguiling smile.

Constable Quill turned to leave, then paused in the doorway. “I forgot. Mrs. Lally wants to know if he’s likely to be back soon, or if she should pack up his things. My understanding is that he’s already a good deal behind in his rents, so she’s in no mood to extend more credit to someone who’ll be gone a while.” A slightly anxious look crossed the Constable’s face. “That’s something I ought to discuss with your mistress, when she returns. When will she be back?”

Kitty waved away this concern. “I’m sure I can speak for Mrs. Plackett when I say that there is plenty of room here to store Mr. Godding’s personal belongings indefinitely. Mrs. Lally is welcome to send his things here.”

“Excellent. May I ask a favor?”

No,
Kitty thought.
You can do
us
a favor and leave.
“Of course, Constable. How can we assist you?”

The six-foot-tall policeman somehow managed to look like a young boy asking for a sweet. “Might I borrow a photograph of Mr. Godding? You have one, I presume?”

All of Kitty’s senses
f
lared up in warning at this suggestion. “Well, I don’t know if I ought to loan Mrs. Plackett’s pictures without her permission.”