in front of her. Amid murmured greetings, which she acknowledged with a gracious nod, she headed for the pavilion.
Rita watched her approach, her grim expression warning Elizabeth that she had no easy task in front of her. She climbed the worn steps of the pavilion and reached Rita’s side.
“Lady Elizabeth,” Rita muttered, her lips so thinned the words barely slipped through. “What a surprise. Have you come to join us in the hunt?”
“Certainly not.” Elizabeth turned to face the crowd and raised her voice. “Listen to me, all of you. The military has sent soldiers to search the woods for the German pilot. If you go in there today you could very well be mistaken for him, and someone could get badly hurt. Please, go home and let the soldiers do their job.”
“They need our help out there,” Rita declared, addressing the housewives, who were muttering to each other again. “We know those woods better than any soldier. We know where to look.”
“And what will you do when you find him?” Elizabeth demanded. “He’s not going to understand anything you say.”
“He’ll understand this.” Rita brandished a carving knife in her face.
The crowd sent up a few half-hearted cheers. “I don’t want to hurt no one,” someone said. “I faint at the sight of blood.”
“Blood!” someone else exclaimed. “No one said anything about no blood!”
“We’re not going to use the knives!” Rita wailed. “They are just to frighten him, that’s all.”
“Can’t we frighten him with our fists?” someone asked.
“What fists?” her neighbor demanded. “I ain’t got no fists.”
“I’m going home,” someone else called out. “I don’t want to be shot at by no soldiers.”
A chorus of “me neither” greeted the woman’s announcement.
Ignoring Rita’s frantic pleas, the housewives began drifting off, one by one, until only three remained, one of whom was Lilly.
“You still here?” Rita punched her fists into her hips. “I thought I told you to go back to work.”
“I’m going,” Lilly mumbled. “It’s more fun there than standing here watching a bunch of old biddies wetting their drawers at the thought of being shot at. Blinking good job they’re not in the real army. We’d lose the bloody war.”
“Watch your bloody language in front of Lady Elizabeth!” Rita shouted.
“Sorry, m’m,” Lilly hunched her shoulders and grabbed the bicycle she’d leaned against the wall of the abandoned sweet shop. “Better watch out if you go in the woods, Ma. One look at your face, and that Nazi’ll run all the way back to Germany.” She swung a leg across the saddle in a most inelegant manner that would have been embarrassing were it not for the fact that she wore slacks. “Ta ta for now!” With a last defiant wave of her hand she wobbled off down the lane.
“You must excuse my daughter, Lady Elizabeth,” Rita said, her face flushed as red as a beetroot. “She’s going through that age, you know.”
Not quite certain as to what exactly “that age” referred to, Elizabeth smiled instead. She was so immensely relieved that a potentially dangerous situation had been successfully defused she felt like beaming at everyone. Even Rita Crumm. “I’m so glad you all changed your minds,” she said.
“Oh, I think you deserve the credit for changing their minds, Lady Elizabeth,” Rita said, ice forming on her words. “I do hope the soldiers have better luck in finding that murderer today. I should hate for someone else to be killed because they didn’t have enough people out there looking for him.”
Although she refused to let Rita see it, Elizabeth felt a strong pang of apprehension. She felt perfectly justified in persuading the women not to go into the woods. As far as the murderer was concerned, however, she couldn’t help feeling she wasn’t doing everything she could to find out who had killed Amelia Brunswick.
What was even more disturbing, she couldn’t rid herself of the notion that she already had the answer to the puzzle. It was buried so deeply in the recesses of her mind, however, that she could not bring it to the surface, no matter how she struggled. She could only hope for now that her fears were unfounded and that poor Maurice Macclesby had not hacked Amelia Brunswick to death with a spade.
CHAPTER9
Elizabeth arrived home to the news that Sheila Macclesby had rung with an urgent message for her to call back.
“Sounded real upset, she did,” Violet said, her wooden spoon swishing around in the vegetable soup she had boiling in the pot. “Wouldn’t tell me what she wanted, though.”
“I’ll go up to the office and ring her after lunch.” Elizabeth removed her gloves and sat down at the table. “Did you ring the council members?”
“Polly did. They’ll all be at the town hall at half past two.” Violet dished up a bowl of the soup and carried it over to the table. “Here, eat that. You look a bit frazzled.”
Elizabeth ran a hand though her tangled locks. “It was that beastly shower this morning. It soaked my hat. I don’t think it will ever be the same again.”
“Panama hats are not supposed to be worn in the rain.”
“It’s the only decent one I have left beside the straw, and that’s looking worse for wear now.”
“There’s a lot to be said for a good old-fashioned cloth pull-on, that’s what I say.” Violet placed another bowl of soup on the table.
Elizabeth wrinkled her nose. “They are so awfully drab. Not in the least bit fashionable.”
“They’re good enough for the queen. The king doesn’t seem to mind her wearing them.”
“I doubt if the king has much say in the matter,” Elizabeth murmured. “Besides, royalty are supposed to wear hats without brims so that people can see their faces. The royal family has never been too adventurous when it comes to fashion, in any case. I wouldn’t be caught dead in some of the clothes the queen wears.”
“Elizabeth Hartleigh Compton! Watch your tongue! You shouldn’t be talking about the royal family like that.” Violet went to the door and yelled for Martin. “I don’t know what he gets up to lately,” she said, coming back to the table, “but he’s never on time for meals anymore. He used to hover around the kitchen like a starving pigeon waiting for me to dish up, but now I have to call him down all the time.”
“Martin doesn’t have much sense of anything nowadays. He’s living in the past most of the time.”
“Don’t I know it.” Violet looked at the clock. “His soup is going to get cold if he doesn’t hurry up. Where can he be?”
“He’s probably talking to Father in the great hall,” Elizabeth murmured, only half paying attention. Her mind was on the message from Sheila Macclesby. She’d deliberately put off calling her until after lunch because she was afraid Sheila was going to tell her that Maurice had killed Amelia and would then beg her to help him. If Maurice had killed the girl, there was absolutely nothing she could do about it. She wasn’t looking forward to telling Sheila that.
She was startled when Violet said crossly, “Don’t you start with this ghost business, Lizzie. I’ve had enough of it with Martin, and now Polly swears she saw something funny in the great hall. Wouldn’t tell me what it was, but I could tell it shook her up. Martin I can see, but Polly usually has more sense than that. Mind you, what with all those pipes rattling every time someone goes to the lavatory, it’s no wonder people start imagining things.”
Elizabeth gradually became aware of what Violet was saying. She looked up sharply. “Polly saw a ghost?”
Violet shrugged. “I don’t know that it was a ghost she saw, but she saw something odd, that I can tell you. ’Course, everyone knows there’s no such things as ghosts, don’t they?” She sent a nervous glance at Elizabeth. “Stuff and nonsense, that’s what I say.”
She didn’t sound too convinced, and Elizabeth did her best to reassure her. “There are no such things as ghosts, Violet, so you can stop worrying.”
Violet looked relieved. “I’m not worried at all.” She peered up at the clock again. “Where
“I’ve finished mine,” Elizabeth said, getting up from her chair. “I’ll find him on my way up to the office and tell
