“If Lady Rose had not felt there was something wrong with him, he could have stayed and played innocent. I am sure he meant to inform the police anonymously that she had the pearls,” said Harry. “And the police might have begun to think it was one coincidence too many.”
“I think you had better begin at the beginning,” said Inspector Macleod, “and tell me the whole story.”
So Harry did, ending up by saying, “That is why Lady Rose is staying here, for her safety.”
“I do not think he will dare come near the castle again,” said Aunt Elizabeth.
“I will telephone Superintendent Kerridge,” said Inspector Macleod. “All the railway stations and ports will need to be watched. I will send the pearls to him by special courier. He will want to send them to the new Fingerprint Bureau.”
“I wonder if he had been in service anywhere,” said Harry. “May we ask that head footman of yours, Lady Carrick, and see what he thinks?”
Aunt Elizabeth pulled the bell rope. Jamie, the head footman, entered immediately. “I’ve told you not to listen at doors,” snapped Aunt Elizabeth.
The footman looked hurt. “I wouldnae dream o’ it, my lady.”
“Anyway, Jamie, we want your impressions of this footman, Charlie. Did he know his job?”
“Aye, we didnae have to explain duties to him. He’d done it afore.”
“That’s a good place to start,” said Sir Edwin Godfrey. “He sounded English, did he?”
“Aye,” said Charlie. “He said his family were Scottish but had moved south when he was a wee lad.”
Harry noticed Rose looked shaken. He went quickly to her and took her hand.
“Do not worry,” he said. “Now we know who he is and we have a good description, we’ll get him.”
She smiled shakily up at him. “I am glad you are wearing my ring,” he whispered. Rose somehow could not bring herself to tell him that she was wearing it because she had merely tried it on and could not get it off.
¦
There was a more relaxed air about the castle now that the killer was being hunted down. Surely he could not get away now. The following day, Harry, Daisy and Becket went to Inveraray and Rose telephoned her mother.
Lady Polly was frosty, to say the least. “I am very tired of hearing about your adventures, Rose,” she said. “Mrs Blenkinsop’s gel is marrying Sir Peter Winde, handsome and rich. Everyone of your generation is marrying well except you. I hoped that convent would have drilled some manners and modesty into you.”
“Mama, I –”
“I want to have a severe talk to you when you return. Your odd relationship with Cathcart has been disastrous. We were in Cairo and the season there is very good. Perhaps next year. Lots of marriageable men, although with your reputation you will probably have to settle for a widower or someone much older. I am very disappointed in you. We had such hopes.”
“If that is all you have to say,” muttered Rose, “I may as well ring off.”
“What?”
“Goodbye.”
Rose put down the receiver and emerged from the box brushing tears from her eyes.
“Bad time?” asked Daisy, putting an arm around her shoulders.
“I fear my mother is sadly disappointed in me,” said Rose.
“There now. Everything will work out all right, you’ll see.”
“Trouble?” asked Harry, walking up to them.
“My mother is angry with me,” said Rose. “I suppose it is only to be expected.”
Becket said, “If you could spare me a few minutes of your time, sir.”
“Go ahead,” said Rose. “Daisy and I will take a little walk.”
“What is it, Becket?” asked Harry as he admired Rose’s slim figure as she walked away.
“Captain, me and Daisy were wondering if you could see your way to setting us up in a little business.”
“I suppose I must. Can you wait until this case is over?”
“Yes, sir.”
“What sort of business?”
“Daisy wanted that dress salon, but that’s off the cards now. I wanted a pub, but Daisy really wouldn’t like it.”
“I often have more work at the detective agency than I can handle,” said Harry. “I could extend the business to take in you and Daisy. You both have worked with me on previous cases. Why the long face? Oh, I know. Do not worry. I will find you both a tidy apartment somewhere. Daisy can work a few months and then retire as a married lady before the baby arrives.”
“Oh, thank you, sir.”
“Then let us rejoin the ladies. I think my ring looks very well on Lady Rose’s finger.”
“I said I would help them with it later.”
“Help them with what?”
“Lady Rose was trying it on and it’s stuck on her finger – they can’t get it off.”
“I should have known,” said Harry, half to himself.
¦
Daisy was elated when Becket told her the news about their future. Both were so happy that they failed to notice that Harry appeared to be sunk in gloom and that Rose kept casting anxious little glances in his direction.
When they got back to the castle and Rose and Daisy had retreated upstairs, Rose said fretfully, “I must get this ring off!”
“Why? I happened to notice the captain was quite pleased you were wearing it.”
“It’s just… oh, did you notice how sour he was towards me when we came back from Inveraray?”
“No. I was too happy about working as a detective and having a little place of our own. Let’s go down to the kitchen. Maybe Cook can suggest something.”
The cook, Mrs Burridge, was a thin woman who looked as if she barely ate. “Goose grease is what you need,” she said. “I’ll warm some up and we’ll get to work, my lady.”
She heated up a little bowl of the grease and then began to work it gently into Rose’s ring finger. Then she pulled hard. There was a
“Oh, no,” wailed Rose. “I’ll never get it back now. Where does that drain go?”
“Down into the castle cesspool, my lady. I am right sorry. I never thought it would just come flying off like that.”
“I’ll need to tell Captain Harry,” said Rose miserably.
She went upstairs and asked a footman to tell the captain to meet her in the morning room. Rose waited nervously, rubbing her sore finger.
Harry came in and stood looking at her. “You sent for me?”
“Yes. I have some very bad news.”
“That fellow hasn’t come back!”
“No, it’s my ring, the one you gave me.”
“What about it?” he demanded sharply.
“I was wearing it on a chain round my neck and I decided to try it on. I could not get it off. The cook put some goose grease on it and pulled. It came flying off but it rolled away and went down the kitchen drain and it’s now in the cesspool.”
“No doubt a fitting burial for it,” he said harshly. “Is that all?”
She turned her face away. He went out of the room and slammed the door behind him. He stood with his back to the door, breathing deeply. Then he heard the sounds of weeping and opened the door again. Rose was sitting in a chair by the window. She had her face buried in her hands and was sobbing.
He went quickly across the room and knelt down beside her. “I did not mean to be so cruel,” he said. He drew her hands away from her face. Taking out a handkerchief, he mopped her tears. “You see, I had hoped you wanted to wear my ring again.”
“I did,” said Rose with a gulp.
