The Shadow of the Sycamores (23 page)

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Authors: Doris Davidson

BOOK: The Shadow of the Sycamores
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Her husband looked at her incredulously. ‘You cannot possibly think that it was one of the guests?’

‘Why not? You said that Janet was quite friendly with all of them but perhaps there was one, or more than one, that she was very close to. Would two able-bodied women have managed to carry her out?’

‘Do you know, Gloria,’ he said, icily, ‘I sometimes fear for
your
sanity. None of these ancient relics would have had the strength to carry her anywhere.’

‘They’re not all ancient,’ she protested. ‘There are a few in middle age and slightly younger who would have managed.’

He considered this carefully, obviously trying to pinpoint those with the physical ability, and then he shook his head. ‘No, those whose bodies are still in prime condition do not have the mental ability … and vice versa.’

‘Innes, forget about her. She has gone and that’s what we wanted, isn’t it?’

‘Yes, that is what we wanted but I would like to know where she has gone and how. Until I learn that, I will be constantly looking over my shoulder in case she turns up again … as you did.’

This last dig did not please Gloria. ‘You knew I was still alive so don’t try to pretend otherwise. You got round that woman by telling her I was dead so you can’t make out you’re an angel. I know you, Innes Ledingham, and, to be honest, it wouldn’t surprise me if you had something to do with her illness – if illness is what it was.’

‘And what do you mean by that?’

His tone was so nasty that she raised her voice now. ‘You
know perfectly well what I mean. She had served her purpose, I had come back into your life and you wanted rid of her. I know you acted the worried husband, taking up her meals yourself. So what did you put in them? Arsenic? There is plenty of that in the gardener’s shed, I’ve seen it.’

The man’s face had gone from angry red to pure white and he had difficulty now in forming his words in his temper. ‘So you knew? And you held your tongue? In the eyes of the police you would be considered as having aided and abetted.’

‘Who said anything about the police? I am not vindictive, Innes. I do not begrudge you your few years of passion with your mistress. I had some very close male acquaintances myself … very close. Just hear me out,’ she added as he jumped up furiously. ‘However Janet got away – and I am practically sure that nobody helped her, that she had been feigning much of her illness because she knew what you were trying to do – I believe that she will stay away. She will try to get as far away as she can and it would not surprise me if we hear in quite a short time that her body has been found somewhere.’

Innes sat down again, biting his bottom lip. ‘Is that what you really think or are you trying to pacify me? Mind you, I suppose it is a possibility. I have done all I can, in any case, so perhaps I should leave it for the time being … until we see if anything turns up.’

Getting to her feet, Gloria said, ‘I had better get back to the kitchen or else the tongues will be wagging.’

Her husband watched her go out. She was still a damned good-looking woman and she had calmed down a lot since she had been away. There had been no repeat of the blazing rows they used to have – she was always willing to do whatever he told her. Or was she trying to convince him that she was a better wife than Janet? She certainly was more exciting in bed.

Was it possible, though, that she was right about how Janet had disappeared? Not the doing it alone bit but with the help of two of the guests? It was more likely to have been one of the staff … or more than one. Had there been a conspiracy? If Gloria had suspected that he was dosing Janet with arsenic,
some of the brighter nurses or servants could also have had doubts. Men, especially men of the working class, were not so quick at noticing things.

‘I still can’t understand why that man came here.’ Abby Laing looked at her husband as if she were expecting an explanation. ‘I’ve never met his wife … and why would she have run away? And how did he know I was Henry’s sister?’

Pogie, who was stouter now, made an even more impressive figure to lead the funeral corteges. He held out his hands, palms up. ‘I am as much at a loss as you, my dear, but I will do my best to figure out some answers. You say he had already searched Henry’s house? That means Henry must have been his prime suspect. It follows, quite logically, that Ledingham would then think of the person nearest to Henry. You, his sister.’

‘But how did he know where I lived?’

‘Ardbirtle is quite a small town. It would be easy to ask around until he found someone who knew you. Henry, or Janet, must have mentioned that he had a sister. As to why the woman ran away, I can only think that they must have had a bad quarrel or he had been abusing her for some time and she could stand it no longer.’

‘He didn’t look the kind of man to abuse his wife,’ Abby protested. ‘He was wearing an expensive suit and a beaver hat with a turned up brim.’

‘How little you know of men, my dear Abby.’ Pogie rose to lift their tiny son who had awakened from a rather restless sleep and was mewing like a kitten in pain.

‘Is it too early for his next feed?’

‘It’s not due for another hour and a bit.’

‘Can’t you just let him have a little drop to settle him?’

‘It’s not supposed to be good for them … but, ach, it’s the only way.’

‘You know, Abby, I think we should call the doctor in again. He never seems to get any better.’

*    *    *

‘Oh, my God!’ Nessie Rae adjusted her spectacles and read the note again.

‘What’s wrong, Nessie?’

‘It’s from Pogie. They’ve lost their baby. I thought it must be bad news when their neighbour handed it in. I’ll have to go to Abby but … will you be all right on your own, Janet?’

‘I’ll be fine. Off you go.’

Giving her face a quick swill but not bothering to take off her overall, Nessie was on her way within five minutes, issuing one last instruction. ‘Don’t go trying to let anybody in if you hear a knock, mind.’

Janet just nodded. It was almost a week since she had been taken to Oak Cottage and she felt a bit better. Not in the best of conditions but certainly much improved. She had been put straight into the downstairs bedroom when she arrived, in a bed far more comfortable than Henry’s couch. Nessie, of course, watched her like a hawk but there was no reason why she couldn’t test herself out a wee bit. Turning down the blankets, she swivelled round, letting her legs slide over the edge of the bed. Even that little movement was an effort so she sat there for a while to recover. It crossed her mind that it would take all her remaining strength just to swivel back again but not yet. She wanted to prove herself.

It took fully ten minutes for her to feel able to move again, this time sliding her bottom right to the edge and feeling her toes touch the floor. That was something achieved at any rate. In another ten minutes or so, she took hold of the bed knob with her right hand, steadied herself with her left hand pressing against the mattress, then tried to take her weight on her feet. She should have known. Neither her arms nor her legs were strong enough for this and, with a low moan, she slid down to the floor, the brass ball in her hand instead of on the bedhead.

Her heart chugging like a railway engine breasting a long hill, she took stock of her position. There was no pain so she
hadn’t broken anything – that was a blessing. She had landed on her rear end, which was well enough padded to absorb any shock. Her legs were out in front of her … and she could wiggle her toes. No damage there, then. Her arms seemed to move in the normal way, though it remained to be seen if she could coax her legs to get her on to her feet.

After several attempts, interspersed with short periods of rest, she had to concede to failure. She would have to sit here like a sack of tatties, on the floor, until Nessie came back or Willie came in for his supper. She glanced at the clock. Only five to two. Willie didn’t usually appear until round about six. Four whole hours to sit like this?

Apart from not being very comfortable, she was beginning to feel a chill – her back was cold and her legs and feet, in contact with the linoleum, were even worse. She had to do something otherwise Nessie or Willie would find a body frozen to the floor when they came in.

Then she remembered that her back could not be far from the bed, from a lovely quilt, but could she manage to pull it down to her? Gradually, by little tugs every now and then and by dint of intense determination, she inched the eiderdown to the edge and then one last pull had it dropping on to the rug she had not been lucky enough to land on when she tumbled. Taking some moments to recharge her meagre energy, she eventually got herself covered and had managed to slide over until she was leaning against the bed.

Oh, dear God! It was Heaven! But for how long?

Sad at heart after Nessie popped in to tell her about Abby’s baby, Fay decided that her best plan would be to make sure that Janet was all right. Henry would not be pleased to think she had been left alone.

She washed her son first, changed his little suit and set him down on the couch. ‘Don’t move, Andrew. Mother has to wash and dress Samara before we go out.’

These two tasks took some time but, at last, without bothering to check on her own appearance, she put both children in
the big, carriage-hung perambulator, a gift from her mother when Andrew was born. She could walk more quickly when he wasn’t padding along beside her on his chubby little legs. It wasn’t far to Oak Cottage but it was almost an hour since Nessie had gone.

Intent on being there in case Janet needed something, Fay did not notice the man looking into the grocer’s window at the other side of the street. Nor did she sense him following her at a discreet distance and turning into Kirk Brae after her. Arriving at her destination, she gave a light tap on the door and went in.

‘Oh, Janet!’ she cried, seeing the poor woman on the floor when she looked into the bedroom. ‘What happened? Are you all right.’

‘I’m fine.’ But Janet’s weak voice was quivering.

‘You are not fine!’ Fay had left the pram in the porch and she quickly crossed the room to help her. However, she soon found that the patient was heavier than she looked. ‘I’ll have to get Willie,’ she puffed.

In just a minute or two, Willie Rae strode in, his canvas apron flapping, his white hair wet with sweat from standing in the intense heat in the smiddy. ‘So?’ he demanded. ‘What have you been up to, my lady?’ Without waiting for her answer, he bent down to scoop her up and deposited her gently on the bed.

She lay still for a few moments, then said, ‘I’m sorry for being a nuisance. I was wanting to try myself but my legs wouldn’t take my weight.’

‘Aye, you’ve put on a wee bit o’ weight since you came here,’ he laughed, ‘but don’t do anything like this again. Get somebody to help you. Now, I’d better get back or the shoe I was shaping’ll be hardening already.’

When he went out, Fay took a quick look in the pram, found both her children asleep and then returned to the bedroom. ‘Would you like a cup of tea?’

‘There’s nothing I’d like better.’

Fay stayed with her charge until Nessie came back, letting
little Andrew amuse Janet while she cooked the piece of lamb that had obviously been intended for the supper and preparing some vegetables to accompany it. Once relieved of her duty, she hurried home to make something for her own family, hoping that Henry would not be too upset about Abby’s tragedy to eat.

Innes Ledingham practically danced back to the carriage he had left on the edge of the town. His journey to Ardbirtle had not been in vain – he had learned something that he felt was central to his quest.

‘Where were you all afternoon?’ Gloria demanded after supper. ‘Am I supposed to manage this place as well as do all the cooking?

He slid his arm round her waist. ‘I was in Ardbirtle, my dearest, and I think I have discovered where Henry Rae has hidden Janet.’

‘You think? So you do not know for sure?’

‘I am almost sure,’ he smiled. ‘I saw an older woman running in to talk to Fay for a few minutes and come rushing out again.’

‘If she was running and rushing, it could not have been Janet.’

He heaved an exaggerated sigh. ‘I am well aware of that. No, that was not Janet but, after some time, Fay came hurrying out with her children in the perambulator and I followed her.’

‘Oh, for goodness sake, Innes! What did you think you …’

‘I believe that Janet is in the house she visited – Oak Cottage it is called.’

‘What gave you the idea she was there?’ Gloria sneered. ‘Whose house is it?’

‘I do not know yet but it is obviously one of Fay’s friends or Henry’s.’

Gloria mulled over this for some time, then she muttered, ‘Maybe she is there, then, but I still think we should leave it alone. Janet will never come back here to bother us.’

‘You never know,’ he said, darkly. ‘Once she regains her health, she could quite easily realise that she could …’

‘She can do nothing. You know that.’

‘She could report me to the police for trying to poison her.’

‘They would not believe her. You are the highly respected Superintendent of The Sycamores, while she was just a cook.’

‘Stranger things have happened and, besides that, she could blackmail me. I married her bigamously …’

‘You told me you had removed that page from the register so there is no proof that you married her, is there?’

‘I am afraid there is, Gloria. Every person here attended the wedding.’

‘The police would not believe a bunch of lunatics.’

‘There were the nurses, the servants and the male workers. They were all present.’

‘Ah, yes. Well, what were you intending to do?’

‘I have not formed a plan yet.’

Innes spent a sleepless night, thinking of several ways to get Janet away from Oak Cottage and discarding them as unfeasible but, just as daybreak filtered through a tiny crack in the curtains, his heart gave a leap. Why did he not just get hold of Henry on his own and threaten to expose him to the police for his hand in her abduction if he did not give her up? He did not actually commit the crime, of course, but he was the ‘receiver of the stolen goods’.

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