many travel adventures, he had always been surrounded by a protective retinue of servants and had never before been in any danger at all. All he wanted to do now was to get as far away from Rose as possible.
“Here’s the brandy. Pour Lady Rose a stiff measure,” Harry ordered.
The door opened and Kerridge walked in with Inspector Judd and six policemen.
“That’s her,” said Harry. “Get her off to the prison hospital. I want her well enough to stand trial.” Rose let out a little sigh of relief as the lady’s maid was carried out.
“Now Lady Rose,” said Kerridge, “we’ll need to take a statement from you.”
“Can’t it wait until tomorrow?” asked Harry.
“It’s all right,” said Rose. “I’ll do it now.”
Roger trembled. She would tell them how he had pleaded for his own life. But Rose, in a flat little voice, merely described how they had both been forced to walk down into the garden and how Thomson had confessed to the murder.
Roger corroborated her statement and then pleaded to be allowed to go home. He left the room without saying goodnight to Rose or offering to return Harry’s cloak.
¦
Lady Polly was standing by the drawing room window. Her husband was sleeping in an armchair behind her. “What can be keeping her?” fretted Lady Polly. “It’s nearly dawn.”
A gentle snore was the only reply she got.
And then a car stopped outside. To her alarm, Lady Polly saw Harry helping Rose out.
“Wake up!” she screeched at her husband. “She’s arrived! She’s with that terrible Cathcart. Oh, what went wrong? Roger was supposed to propose to her.”
Rose had not taken a house key with her. Lady Polly ran down the stairs as she heard the loud sound of the door knocker. She flung open the door and howled, “What is the meaning of this?”
“We will tell you all,” said Rose. “Something terrible happened.”
In the drawing room, where her father was now awake, Rose told them about the happenings of the evening.
“This is all your fault,” said the earl, glaring at Harry.
“How can it be?” asked Rose. “He saved my life. Roger was no help. He would have run away if she had let him. All he did was wet himself.”
“You must not say such things,” exclaimed Lady Polly. “Captain Cathcart has led you into danger.”
“It all started when I went to see Dolores and found her dead,” said Rose. “If I had not been so stupid as to go and see her, then I would never have been involved or in danger. You must thank Captain Cathcart for saving my life and then let me go to bed. I am weary.”
“I suppose thanks are in order,” said the earl. “Go off with you, Rose. We’ll talk more about this tomorrow.”
“I must go to Scotland Yard tomorrow,” said Rose, “and I would like Captain Cathcart to escort me.”
“Oh, very well,” said Lady Polly.
Rose left the room and Harry watched her go with sad eyes. Bernie had given him a very detailed report of that outing to Richmond. Harry guessed that Rose had enjoyed such easy company, such fashionable company, and thought she could please her parents by marrying such an unexceptional young man.
“I had better leave as well. I will call for your daughter just before noon. She is very tired.”
When he had left, the earl grumbled, “I’m afraid we’re stuck with him. But did you see his evening coat? Great shiny mark of the iron on the back of it. No gentleman should go out of the house like that.”
Lady Polly said in a weary voice, “If he had been a gentleman like Roger, then our daughter might be dead. We’ll need to let him marry her.”
¦
Harry appeared early in the office the next morning. After telling Bernie the events of the previous night, he said, “I’ve got a couple of small cases for you, but before that, I would like you to go to the hospital and make sure Mrs Becket is all right. I have asked Mr Becket to spend the day with my new servants and instruct them in their duties.”
Bernie brightened. He seized his coat. “Mrs Becket wanted some romances. I’ll buy some from a bookshop on the way there.”
Daisy smiled when Bernie entered her hospital room.
“I’ve got you the books you wanted,” said Bernie. He read off the titles. “
“Sounds just the thing. I should be out of here by tomorrow.” Daisy’s bandages had been removed. She put a hand up to the shaved part of her head and said, “I must look a fright.”
“No, you look fine.”
“Sit down, Mr King.”
“Bernie, please.”
“Then sit down, Bernie. Has anything else happened?”
Bernie told her all about the drama in the garden and the arrest of Thomson. “Oh, that is wonderful,” said Daisy when he had finished. “Rose will have nothing to worry about now. I do miss her. I liked being companion to Rose. We were like sisters.”
“But you’re married now and have a new home to go to.”
A shadow crossed Daisy’s expressive little face and she plucked nervously at the blankets.
“You must be mourning for your baby,” said Bernie sympathetically.
“I feel unnatural because I’m not. You know how the upper classes say the lower classes don’t have the same fine sensitive feelings as they have. Maybe it’s true.”
“Rubbish.”
“I feel a failure as a wife, that’s all. Now I’m to be a lady of leisure. What am I going to do with myself all day? I wish I could go back to being a companion to Rose. I wish…”
Daisy bit her lip in consternation. She had been on the point of saying she wished she had never got married. Her eyes filled with tears.
“Here, now,” said Bernie. “What can I do to cheer you up? I know, I’ll start to read one of those books to you. You just lie back and listen.”
He started to read, using different voices for the characters, until Daisy began to laugh. Then she said contritely, “I shouldn’t be laughing.”
“Course you should. Best medicine there is.”
The door opened and Lady Polly came in, followed by a footman carrying a large basket of fruit.
She eyed Bernie. “Who is this person?”
“Not a person, my lady. Mr King works for Captain Cathcart and he has brought me some books.”
“I’ll be off,” said Bernie hurriedly. Daisy sadly watched him go.
“Now,” said Lady Polly, “I have had my servants move all your belongings from Chelsea to your new home. My maids have cleaned your flat and everything is ready for you.”
“Thank you, my lady.”
“What is this trash you are reading?” asked Lady Polly, picking up
“Just some romances. I didn’t feel like reading anything heavy.”
Lady Polly flicked the book open to the first page. “How is Lady Rose?” asked Daisy, but Lady Polly had become absorbed in the romance and did not hear her.
¦
Rose sat silently beside Harry as he drove her to Scotland Yard. It was raining so she was wearing an oilskin coat, hat and goggles and shielding her head with a large umbrella. There was no danger of the umbrella being whipped away because the traffic was so bad; the motor seemed only able to inch along.
She remembered the sunny day with Roger at Richmond. It seemed very far away now.
At Scotland Yard, Rose took off her wet outer clothes with relief and followed Harry to Kerridge’s office.
“Come in, Lady Rose,” said Kerridge. “Are you recovered from your ordeal?”
“I hope so,” said Rose. “I gather you want a detailed statement.”
