“And she was pretty well oiled when I left, and that’s a fact.”
“What was the time again?”
“I got back ’ere at five, didn’t I? For our meetin’.” As he spoke, Billy reached into his jacket, which was hanging over the back of the chair, and pulled out his notebook. “And I ’ad a couple of other errands to do, so it was about . . . ’ere we go, Miss, it was twenty-five past three in the afternoon.”
“Was anyone else in the house at the time, other than the staff?”
“Now, it’s funny that you should say that, Miss, because although I didn’t see anyone, I thought someone else might be about. In fact, now I come to think of it, I saw a suitcase—one of them big leather ones with the straps— on the landing.”
“That’s interesting. I don’t remember seeing a large suitcase this morning.”
“P’r’aps the maid moved it. It could’ve belonged to Mrs Fisher, couldn’t it? Remember, she corrected me, Miss? I noticed she ’ad a wedding ring on, but the ’ouse didn’t ’ave that feelin’ about it, y’know, like there was a man about.”
“Why didn’t you say anything about this, Billy?”
“Well, Miss, she wasn’t dead then, was she? And I wasn’t lookin’ out for ’
Maisie sighed. “Fair enough. But remember—”
“Yeah, I know, ‘Everything in its entirety must be written down.’Well, Miss, I did do that, I did write it down in my book, but I just didn’t say nothin’ because Mrs. Fisher wasn’t the one what’d run off, was she?”
Billy sat down awkwardly, though Maisie remained standing and looked out across the square. It was darker now. He had mentioned earlier that he wanted to be home in time to take his children to the recreation ground. It crossed Maisie’s mind that he had been optimistic in thinking that he would get home while it was still light enough to play outdoors. She turned back to him.
“Yes, you’re right, Billy. Now then, recall one more time what happened when you left.”
“When she’d told me about Miss Waite and the nuns, and all, she seemed to be lollin’ all over the place, so I said my good-byes and thank-you-very-muches, and off I went.”
Maisie sighed. “Oh dear. I do wish one of the household had let you out.”
“So do I, come to think of it. But the maid wasn’t there. Mind you, I think someone else went in after me.”
“Well, I would hope so, Billy.”
“Nah, Miss, you know what I mean.
“Explain.”
“I was on the street, and you know ’ow narrow them mewses are, don’t you? Well, it was that funny it was, because I came out of the ’ouse, ’ad to squeeze past that big car of ’ers, the way she’d parked it all over the pavement, then I turned right to go down toward Victoria. I ’adn’t gone but a couple of yards when I ’eard steps behind me; then the door slammed. I thought it must’ve been Mr. Fisher, comin’ in from work or somethin’ and I just ’adn’t seen ’im.”
“You’re sure it was Number Nine’s door that opened and closed?”
“As sure as I can be. It was the sound, Miss. I’m good wiv noises. It’s ’avin the nippers what does it—always gotta know where the noise is comin’ from, otherwise the little beggars’ll be getting’ up to no good at all. Anyway, if it’d been the next ’ouse along, it wouldn’t ’ave sounded the same, in either direction. No, it was Number Nine.” Billy looked at Maisie, his eyes revealing the shock of a sudden unwanted thought. “’ere, Miss, you don’t think it was the one what did ’er in, do you?”
“It’s a possibility.”
Maisie considered another possibility, that Lydia Fisher might have been lying to Billy throughout. The suitcase he noticed could have belonged to Charlotte Waite. It might have been Charlotte who— alone or aided by another —had slain her friend. Waite had referred to his daughter as a “wilting lily” but Maisie was begining to consider her a dark horse.
“This is getting’ interestin’, innit, Miss?”
“Intriguing is what it is. Intriguing. I’ve written to Dame Constance at Camden Abbey in Kent, and expect to hear from her by return. Whether Charlotte has run there for shelter or not, Dame Constance will be able to throw light on the mind of an aspiring nun. I’ll visit her as soon as I can. And I want to consult with Dr. Blanche, so I’ll stop at the Dower House at Chelstone to see him first.”
“Will you see your old dad while you’re there?”
“Of course I will. Why do you ask?”
“Wonderful man, your dad. You just don’t seem to see much of ’im, that’s all, seein’ as ’e’s your only real family.”
Maisie drew back, surprised. The simplicity of Billy’s observation stung her, as if she had been attacked by an unseen insect. She knew that it was only the truth that could injure in such a manner, and her face reddened.
“I see my father as much as I can.” Maisie leaned toward a pile of papers, which she shuffled before consulting her watch. “Goodness me, Billy! You should be on your way. You won’t be home in time to play with your children though, will you?”
“Oh yes I will, Miss. Never miss a play before they go up to bed. Nice to ’ave a bit of a romp around, although the missus moans about it, says it gets ’em all excited so they won’t sleep.”
“We might as well finish work for the day. I’m meeting Detective Inspector Stratton tomorrow morning to go to Lydia Fisher’s house. Be prepared to hold the fort for a couple of days while I am down in Kent.”
