Rose stared at them and then an idea formed in her head. A splendid idea. Blackmail.
“It would be such a pity if His Majesty were ever to learn how you engaged the services of Captain Cathcart to stop his visit. How the Kensington Palace set would throw up their hands in horror. Just think of it! My social disgrace would be as nothing compared to yours.
“My acquaintanceship with the captain is innocent. I am not in the slightest romantically interested in him. But he is the only one I can talk to about the murders. If I am reduced to confining my conversation to prattling gossip with the other men, goodness knows what I might let slip.”
“You wouldn’t dare!” gasped Lady Polly.
Rose got to her feet. “Well, let’s see how it goes, shall we? Now I must go and finish my breakfast.”
¦
Daisy was sitting in her room. Her sewing basket was on a table beside her and a basket of silk stockings to be darned was at her feet. But she had found a bound copy of six months’ issues of
There was a knock at her door. She hid the volume under a cushion and went to answer the door. Becket stood there. “You shouldn’t be calling on me in my room, Mr. Becket. They’ll all be down on us like a ton of bricks.”
“Nobody saw me. The captain says he won’t be needing me this morning and told me to get some fresh air.”
“Amazing. It’s raining stair rods.”
“I don’t think he noticed.”
“Well, come in. But if my lady comes back you’ll need to disappear sharpish.”
“I’ve heard rumours that Sir Gerald Burke is the villain.”
“That pansy!”
“You never know. He might just
“Curzon says! How did you get so friendly with old frosty-face?”
“He was complaining about you. He was going to complain to Lady Polly. I had to stop him somehow.”
“How did you do that?”
“I said you were Lady Polly’s illegitimate daughter.”
“What!”
“A lot of that thing goes on. You see, most of these aristocrats have arranged marriages, so they’re allowed a bit of license after the children are born. If one or the other has an illegitimate child, it’s hushed up. The only shame is in being found out. Old snobby Curzon was quite melted. ‘I see that must account for her free and easy manner,’ says the old goat. ‘Breeding will out’.”
“I don’t know that I like being called a bastard,” said Daisy doubtfully.
“An aristocratic one. Look at all the dukes and earls who got their titles on the wrong side of the blanket. Also, he’ll never breathe a word. He worships his betters, as he keeps calling them.”
Daisy began to laugh. “You are a one. I forgive you. My lady’s ever so upset. Her parents are threatening to send her to India. Now what about your master marrying my mistress?”
“Won’t do. He thinks she’s the most unfeminine woman he’s ever come across.”
“If we could get them together some way…”
“It’ll be difficult. When all this is over, she might be packed off to India and never see him again. And yet, I feel they are suited.”
“She won’t go to India. We have a plan. We’re going to find some way to get to London and become businesswomen. We can both type.”
“But that would reduce your lady to the ranks of the middle class.”
“What’s wrong with that? My lady says the middle classes have morals.”
“My master might consider her unsuitable for marriage.”
“What! A man who goes about blowing up things! He might think she’s too good for him.”
“I’d better go before I’m caught here,” said Becket. “I’ll let you get on with your sewing.”
“I hate sewing,” said Daisy. “I’d rather type any day.”
¦
After luncheon, Rose hurried to the library, followed by Daisy. She waited impatiently for Harry. The minutes ticked past. Daisy searched the shelves for another bound volume of
At last Harry entered, followed by Becket. “Any news?” asked Rose eagerly.
“Yes, very much so. Mary Gore-Desmond was not pregnant but she had secondary syphilis.”
“Then all Dr. Perriman needs to do is to produce old Dr. Jenner’s records,” said Rose, “and the police can find out if Hedley has syphilis.”
“Dr. Perriman says that Lord Hedley is not being treated by him for anything and Dr. Jenner’s old records are confidential. Sir Gerald Burke’s doctor in Wimpole Street was telephoned and said the same thing. His patients’ records are confidential.”
“Can’t he appeal to the Home Secretary to get a warrant to seize the records?” asked Rose.
“I think he’s trying. He says if he were requesting the medical records of Mr. Bloggs of The Larches, Jubiliee Road, Peckham, he’s get them Uke a shot. I’m beginning to understand why he’s so bolshie.”
“Where are Dr. Jenner’s records?”
“In Perriman’s surgery at Creinton.”
“Then we’ll just need to get them,” said Rose.
“And how do we do that?” asked Harry.
“Why, you break into his surgery and have a look.”
“My dear lady, I am not a criminal.”
“We could go over to Creinton. You could take me because I am not feeling well, and while the doctor is examining me, you can have a look around.”
“I should think your parents will have something to say if you go driving off with me,” said Harry.
“I won’t ask them. Daisy can run and get my coat and hat. Becket can bring the car round. You can support me out to it and say you are rushing me to the doctor.”
“It’ll look odd.” Harry looked at her uneasily. “Such as us always getting the doctor to come to us – we don’t go to him.”
“Oh, let’s try!” said Rose, betraying her youth by jumping eagerly to her feet. “Do put that book down, Daisy, and fetch my fur coat and the felt hat with the veil.”
¦
As a few of the men had gone off fishing and the rest of the guests were sunk in after-luncheon torpor, they were able to leave without any confrontation.
Creinton was a small market town and the arrival of a motor car caused a great deal of interest. Harry drew up before the doctor’s surgery, which was in the main square, and switched off the engine. “If I plan to burgle the good doctor,” he said, looking at the crowd which had gathered around the motor car, “I had better ride over. This thing attracts too much attention.”
They entered the waiting-room. There were three people waiting, sunk in that dismal torpor engendered by doctors’ waiting-rooms. This one was particularly dismal with its horsehair-stuffed black leather furniture, black marble clock and brown-painted walls.
A nurse built like a battleship came out. “Mr. Jenkins,” she said, and then her eyes fell on the new arrivals, just as a small tired-looking man rose to his feet. Her heavy face creased into a smile as she surveyed the glory of Rose’s sable fur coat.
“This is Lady Rose Summer,” said Harry. “She has been feeling faint and anxious while we were out for a drive and I really think Dr. Perriman should have a look at her.”
“Of course. Right away. Do sit down, Mr. Jenkins. Come along, my lady.”
Rose wanted to say she would wait, but Harry had a hand under her arm and was urging her forward.
In the surgery, while Rose explained about feeling faint, Harry’s eyes ranged over the room. Along one wall were wooden shelves containing cardboard files. As Dr. Perriman had only recently taken over Dr. Jenner’s practice,
