monster, but it was not up to his wife to take the law into her own hands. Iris Morgan had to answer for what she had done, and it would be up to the courts to decide a fitting punishment.
Having come to that decision, Elizabeth felt a small measure of relief. The quandary had worried her a good deal, and right now she had far too much to worry about as it was. She would go immediately to George, tell him what she knew, and insist he inform the inspector right away.
She had her hand outstretched to open the door when to her dismay it was shoved open, bruising her fingers. Iris stood in the doorway, a wicked-looking carving knife in her hand. “It’s too bad you didn’t mind your own business, Lady Elizabeth,” she said, brandishing the knife in Elizabeth’s face. “Now I’m afraid I’ll have to shut you up for good.”
Cold with shock, Elizabeth fell back. “This is ridiculous,” she said, striving to put authority in her voice. “You can’t just go around killing people and hope to get away with it.”
“I got away with Clyde’s, didn’t I?” Iris advanced into the shed. “I’ll get away with yours, too.”
“You didn’t exactly get away with your husband’s murder,” Elizabeth said, frantically playing for time.
“After all, I worked out what happened. Other people will, too, eventually.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the horse shift back and forth. If she could work her way closer to it, she might be able to create enough commotion to escape. She began edging toward the corner where the horse stood, ears twitching, watching the scene in front of him.
“I made mistakes with Clyde,” Iris said, her calm voice all the more horrifying. “I didn’t have time to work things out. But I’ve been thinking a lot about what to do about you if you got too nosy.” She shot a glance over her shoulder, then raised her voice. “Tommy! You can come in now.”
Elizabeth’s hopes faded as the boy appeared in the doorway. He carried a length of rope in his hands, and looked every bit as determined as his mother.
“I’ve got it all worked out,” Iris said, beckoning to her son. “We tie you up in here and wait until it gets dark. Then we take you and your motorcycle to the top of the cliffs and then over you go. The tide will be in, so if the fall doesn’t kill you, you’ll drown in the sea. Too bad, Lady Elizabeth. You drove your motorcycle up the coast road and missed the curve in the dark. Such a shame. Now there’ll be no more lady of the manor in Sitting Marsh.”
She signaled to Tommy once more and he came forward, his face a stiff mask.
Elizabeth stared at him in horror. She couldn’t die now. Not when so many people needed her. Earl, lying helpless in a hospital bed. Martin, up to heaven knew what with the War Office. Violet, Polly, Sadie… her tenants in the village… What would they all do without her?
She saw Earl’s white, motionless face lying on the pillow, his still body beneath the covers. This was not the last image she wanted of him. She wanted to see him well and happy before they parted forever.
Heedless of the knife in Iris’s hands, Elizabeth plunged toward the boy. Raising an arm, she swept him out of the way, hitting him hard in the shoulder so that he stumbled. She was almost at the door when something exploded in her head. Lights flashed, the world spun, and then everything faded into silent darkness.
CHAPTER 17
It was late afternoon before Martin finally used the telephone to ring the War Office. Violet knew that because she’d followed him around all day, waiting unashamedly to eavesdrop on the conversation.
She’d deliberately stayed out of the kitchen, once it became obvious that Martin had no intention of using the telephone while she was within earshot. After lunch, while Martin was still in the kitchen, she’d made a point of telling Sadie that she was going to the market that afternoon, and had even put on her felt hat and gloves and fetched the shopping bags from the pantry.
She hadn’t been gone more than ten minutes, hovering outside the back door, when she heard Martin lift the telephone from its hook. Since he was ringing all the way to London, she knew it would take a while for everything to connect, which gave her plenty of time to run around to the east wing steps, enter the great hall, and run the length of it to reach Elizabeth’s office.
Once there, she had to wait a moment or two to catch her breath. Martin was bound to hear all that huffing and puffing if she didn’t. She considered it her duty to find out what was going on. After all, there were people out there who took advantage of elderly gentlemen like Martin, and someone had to look out for the old fool. Lizzie would thank her for taking care of matters.
Having thus satisfied her conscience, Violet felt no qualms about lifting the telephone in Lizzie’s office to listen in.
After carefully lifting the receiver from its hook, she held her breath and pressed the telephone to her ear. She was just in time to hear Martin’s quavery voice telling someone his name.
Violet listened to the entire conversation, then waited for Martin to hang up the telephone downstairs before replacing the receiver.
She was at the door when the telephone jangled, scaring her half out of her wits. She waited through a couple of the double rings, then picked up the receiver again. Martin must have gone back to his room. Not that he ever answered the telephone. Always complained he couldn’t hear a word through that newfangled trumpet. Which didn’t stop him from using it when it was convenient for him, of course.
Holding the receiver to her ear, she said warily, “The Manor House. This is the housekeeper speaking.”
A woman’s voice answered her. “This is Sister Brown at North Horsham General Hospital. I wish to speak to Lady Elizabeth, if you please.”
Violet peered at the clock on Lizzie’s desk. It was almost five o’clock. “Her ladyship is not present,” she said, a faint worry beginning to niggle at her. “In fact, I was under the impression she was at the hospital.”
“Ah, well, that’s what I wanted to speak to her about. She inquired about the health of Major Monroe, and I wanted to tell her that the doctor has given his permission for the major to receive visitors. Major Monroe is awake and wishes to see her.”
Violet frowned. “But she should be there by now. In fact, I was expecting her to come home again soon. Are you sure she’s not visiting the major?”
“I just looked in on him ten minutes ago,” the sister assured her, “and he hasn’t had any visitors at all today.”
“Well, as soon as I see her ladyship I’ll be sure to pass on the message.” Violet paused, then added, “Perhaps you’ll ask her to give me a ring if she should arrive there?”
“Certainly.”
“Please give my best to the major.” Violet put down the telephone, the worry beginning to grow. Where on earth could Lizzie be if she wasn’t at the hospital? She tried to remember exactly what Elizabeth had said that morning.
Her stomach knotted with worry now, Violet hurried back to the kitchen. If only Lizzie had told her what errand she was going to run, she might have been able to track her down.
She lifted the telephone and started dialing George’s number, then hung up again. There was no point in raising an alarm if it wasn’t necessary. It wasn’t as if Lizzie were chasing after a murderer or anything, like she sometimes did.
Violet turned away from the telephone, then changed her mind again. Lizzie must have eaten somewhere that day, and Bessie’s tea shop seemed the likely place.
Bessie answered her ring, sounding rushed and out of breath.
“I was wondering if her ladyship dropped by today,” Violet said, doing her best to sound unconcerned.
“Yes,” Bessie said, her voice tinged with impatience. “She was here. Had a Cornish pasty and left.”
“What time was that?”
“Around one o’clock, I suppose. I know we were busy. Just like we are now.”
Ignoring the hint, Violet demanded, “Did she say where she was going after that?”
There was a pause while Bessie answered someone in the background, then she spoke into the telephone again. “No, she didn’t.” She seemed about to hang up, then added, “Is something wrong?”
“No, no,” Violet hastily assured her. “I was just wondering if she was coming home for supper, that’s all.”
