Rose held the little note with trembling fingers. She should tell the captain. But if someone else joined her on the roof, the author of the note might just fail to appear.
She stayed awake for hours, tossing and turning, and then at last fell asleep with the note clutched in her hand.
When she awoke, she found she had slept until ten in the morning. The memory of the note flooded into her frightened brain. Perhaps it was just that wretched pair, Tristram and Freddy, planning to play another joke on her. And yet, most guests would be at lunch at one o’clock. It would be broad daylight.
She dressed in a plain divided skirt and shirt blouse and serviceable boots. She looked out of the window. It was a cold, blustery day, with great ragged clouds streaming across the sky.
“I will go. I am not a child anymore,” she admonished herself out loud.
“What’s that?” asked Daisy, who had quietly entered the room.
“Oh, I was thinking about letting the suffragette movement down,” said Rose hurriedly. “Do my hair and then leave me, Daisy. I won’t be needing you for the rest of the day.”
¦
Rose had not wanted to ask for instructions as to how to get to the roof of the castle, but assumed if she kept on walking upwards, she would come to some sort of a door.
She walked up the main staircase and kept on walking up, ignoring the corridors which branched off to the towers. The stairs became narrower and uncarpeted. She found herself in the servants’ quarters, which stretched out on either side of her at the top landing.
A footman appeared from one of the rooms and stared at her in surprise. “May I help you, my lady?”
“I wanted to get up on the roof to look at the view,” said Rose. She had been told not to tell anyone, but surely that meant any of the guests, or Daisy.
“You go along to the right, my lady,” said the footman, “and you’ll find a door at the end. If you open it, there is a stone staircase which will take you up. Would you like me to escort you?”
“No, no, that will not be necessary. I’ll go on my own.”
Rose made her way along the corridor to the right. She came to the door the footman had mentioned and opened it. There was the staircase leading to the roof. There was still time to go back down to luncheon and tell Harry.
On the other hand, there would be the pleasure of solving the mystery and telling him she had done it all by herself.
Squaring her shoulders and wrapping the thick shawl she had brought tightly around her, she walked up. Another door. There was a large key in it and the lock looked as if it had been recently oiled. She unlocked the door and swung it open. A blast of cold air hit her face.
Rose stepped out onto the roof and shut the door behind her.
She looked around. No one in the immediate vicinity. The roof was flat, with four banks of chimneys sending out snakes of smoke which whirled about the roof.
Perhaps someone was on the other side of the banks of chimneys. She walked around them, peering through the sudden downdraft of smoke from the whirling cowls of the chimneys. She gasped and choked. Wiping her streaming eyes, she walked to the edge of the roof and took in a gulp of fresh air.
A low crenellated wall surrounded the edge of the roof. She was at the back of the castle, where the walls plunged down, sheer into the black waters of the moat.
Rose turned and looked around. The smoke from the many fires seemed to be performing some mad snake- like dance, first bending this way and that, then running along the top of the roof, sent down by the chimney- cowls.
He
She turned back. There was a view of the village huddled near the castle like some poverty-stricken peasant seeking warmth.
Beyond the village, near the woods, she could see the puffs of smoke from the shotguns of the men after pheasant and hear the cracks of shot. So the men would not have been present at lunch anyway. Then through the village came Harry in his car, the car looking like a toy.
On impulse, she stood at the edge and shouted and waved.
An almighty shove in her back sent her hurtling over the edge. Rose screamed and screamed as she hurtled down past the sheer walls of the castle and straight down into the moat.
¦
Becket was seated beside his master in the open car as they drove along the winding road which approached the back of the castle. He was gazing gloomily at the castle when he saw to his amazement a tiny figure up on the roof, waving and shouting.
“Sir,” said Becket, raising his voice to be heard over the noise of the engine, “there is someone on the castle roof. Oh, my God, they’ve fallen.”
“Where, what?”
“Back of the castle, sir.”
Harry drove as hard as he could, over the drawbridge, under the portcullis, through the courtyard and sped along the tradesman’s route which ended at the side of the castle.
He switched off the engine, jumped out, and started to run to the back. There was a figure struggling in the moat.
“It’s Lady Rose,” gasped Becket.
Harry stripped off his long overcoat, his jacket, hat and motoring goggles, tore off his shoes, and dived in.
When he surfaced it was to find that Rose had gone down again under the icy waters.
He dived and groped around until his hands grasped clothing. He pulled the body to the surface and found himself staring at the bloated features of an unrecognizable dead female.
There came a faint, “Help!” as Rose surfaced again. He abandoned the horror he had found, and swam to Rose and put his arms around her.
“Relax,” he ordered. “And let me tow you in.”
He swam with Rose to the bank and Becket pulled her clear. “Get Lady Rose back to the castle, and then come back here with some help. There’s a dead body down there.”
Rose was shivering and spluttering. Then she turned away and vomited. “That’ll get some of that filthy water out of you,” said Becket. He tenderly wrapped her in his master’s coat and assisted her to the car.
He drove quickly round to the front of the castle. The butler appeared on the doorstep.
“Get Lady Rose’s maid,” said Becket, “and send for the doctor.”
The butler went back into the hall and shouted orders. The marquess appeared. “What’s going on?”
“You must get the police immediately, my lord,” said Becket.
¦
“Oh, Daisy, help your mistress to her room. She fell in the moat from the roof.”
“Why should I get the police?” demanded the marquess testily. “There is no need to get the police because one of my guests was playing on the roof and fell over.”
“My lord, Captain Cathcart dived in to rescue Lady Rose and found a dead body in the moat.”
“Where? What?”
“At the back of the castle.”
The marquess strode out of the castle followed by his butler, two footmen, and the hall-boy.
When he reached the back of the castle, it was to find more staff there, who had seen the drama from the windows, clustered around the captain.
Harry was kneeling by a body laid out on the grass at the edge of the moat. He looked up and saw the marquess. “You had better call the police,” said Harry.
“Who is she?” asked the marquess.
“I fear it is Colette, the missing lady’s maid.”
“Can’t this be kept quiet?”
“I am afraid not. I do not know what Lady Rose was doing on the roof, but it looks as if there might have
