The Murder of Busy Lizzie

‘Oh, yes. She said she was very pleased and looked forward to our stay.’

‘Then perhaps she isn’t in. I shouldn’t think she can be, if you still haven’t seen her,’ said Margaret.

‘The receptionist could have told me that, one would think. I will enquire.’ He marched off to the desk.

‘It’s a bit off of Aunt Eliza, isn’t it?’ said Margaret. ‘I mean, it was at her suggestion that we came here. I know there was a family row—’

‘That was years ago. Besides, you gathered that the row was between her and Boobie. That’s why Boobie wouldn’t come with us, I expect, and wouldn’t even wait to see us off.’

Marius returned to them with a happier expression on his lantern-jawed, scholarly face.

‘The mystery begins to resolve itself,’ he said, ‘so shall we go and take a look at the chalet?’

‘I didn’t know there was a mystery,’ said Sebastian.

‘Oh, I meant that there has been no sign of Lizzie and that we have been given only one room in the house itself. It appears that Lizzie is away from the island on business, and Miss Crimp is finalising the arrangements for accommodating a conference of naturalists. She expects forty of them and, as many are elderly, she wants to put those in the house and allocate the chalets to the younger guests. It seems reasonable enough to me.’

‘How long is she expected to be away?’

‘The staff do not know, but I have found out that the receptionist is a person of importance. It seems that she is your aunt’s partner.’

‘Her partner?’ said Sebastian. He caught his sister’s eye, and both began to laugh.

‘I see no particular occasion for mirth,’ said Marius. ‘Has the sea-air gone to your heads? The woman’s name is Crimp and she is in sole and complete charge of the establishment until your aunt returns.’

‘We’re laughing because, from something Cousin Marie said at the Singletons’ when she and Miss Potter were staying with us in November, father, we sort of gathered that Aunt Eliza had appointed a second-in-command, but Cousin Marie seemed to think it was a major-domo, a man,’ said Margaret, controlling her mirth. Marius frowned.

‘I don’t see that Marie could know anything about it,’ he said.

‘Oh, but she and Miss Potter stayed here for a week or so last summer, father.’

‘I didn’t know that!’

‘Oh, dear! I supposed she would have told you and mother, or I would have mentioned it, but, of course, it didn’t interest me much because I had no idea at the time that we ourselves would be coming.’

‘No, no, of course you hadn’t, my dear. Extraordinary that Marie didn’t mention it to your mother or me, though.’

‘I expect she didn’t like to, knowing what mother thought about Aunt Eliza.’

‘That might be it, I suppose, but Marie has always been rather secretive. What did she think of the hotel?’

‘Not much, I believe. She said the meals were monotonous.’

‘Well, they should not be that, considering the price one is paying. Was Miss Crimp in partnership with Lizzie last summer, then?’

‘We have no idea, Father,’ said Sebastian, before his sister could answer the question.

‘I do not remember seeing her name on the brochure,’ said Marius, ‘but perhaps she and Lizzie have some agreement about that. A partner? I am not at all sure that I would have come had I known. I cannot think why you did not mention it, Margaret, before I made my booking.’

‘I’m very sorry, Father. I couldn’t see that it mattered. It doesn’t really make much difference, does it?’

‘Of course it makes a difference! Sebastian can see that, even if a schoolgirl cannot.’

‘Can you, Seb?’ asked Margaret, with an air of innocence. She resented being called a schoolgirl.

‘Yes. Bang goes our reason for coming here,’ said Sebastian, ‘and, for once in her innocent life, Boobie hasn’t boobed. She said it was N.B.G. and that seems to be just about right.’

‘Well,’ said Marius, ‘that is putting it too strongly, but the partnership does, indeed, complicate matters. I shall make it my business to find out exactly how it stands. It is more than likely that Miss Crimp has exaggerated the importance of her position here. Underlings are often inclined to puff themselves up when their masters are absent. From what I know of Lizzie, I should think it most unlikely that she has parted with more than a very small share of her holdings. It would be quite out of character if she has given much away.’

The family of three walked over to the chalet and Marius produced the keys.

‘Hm!’ said Sebastian. ‘Not bad. The front faces the sea and we are on the leeward side of the island. There’s a fairly firm table in the sitting-room where I can get on with my work if I feel so inclined or the weather turns wet, and the beds appear to be reasonably well sprung. I think I could settle in here quite well for a month. I suppose you’d prefer to stay up at the house, Father?’

‘I must leave that to Margaret,’ said Marius, ‘but I must confess that I’ve already used one of the towels in the bedroom there.’

‘Oh, I’ll share with Seb,’ said Margaret, ‘but I’m not having any truck with public bath-houses and the rest of it. I shall take my bath up at the house, Father, and you’ll have to get out of your bedroom while I change in it.’

Marius thought this reasonable, and said so. They returned to the house just as the suitcases were brought to the hotel by horse and cart. As the luggage was unloaded they claimed their own, and the two pieces which were left were trundled off to a destination which was indicated on the labels as Puffins. As the name which Sebastian read on one of the suitcases was Bradley, he assumed, rightly, that Puffins was the house which he and his sister had recently noted. The other suitcase was labelled Gavin, and with it on the cart and similarly labelled was a small packing-case which, to his knowledgeable eye, seemed likely to contain books. He eyed it speculatively and wondered whether a little borrowing might prove possible if the books were interesting. Even if they proved to be what, in his youthful arrogance and intellectual snobbishness, he wrote off as trash, they might come in useful on a wet day when he did not feel like getting on with his work or when he felt disposed to idle away a sunny afternoon on the cliff-top or among the heather.

There seemed to be nobody to deal with the luggage, so he picked up his own and his sister’s suitcase, dumped them on the verandah of the chalet and went back to accompany the others to the bedroom which was now definitely assigned to Marius.

‘So this is your room, Father,’ said Margaret, glancing around it. ‘It’s quite a good one, but I’d rather stick to the chalet, and I’m not at all sorry Aunt Eliza is not here to greet us. We shall be thoroughly acclimatised by the time she comes back. There’s nothing like being the man on the spot. What time do you want us to come along for dinner, Father?’

‘There will be nothing much to do after dinner,’ said Marius, ‘so we may as well have it later rather than sooner. I think perhaps eight o’clock will be a suitable hour. I shall turn in early. It has been a fatiguing day.’

‘Disappointing, too, for the poor old buster,’ said Sebastian. ‘This partnership business has hit him where it hurts. He can say what he likes about underlings, but I wouldn’t be surprised if that rather poisonous little female at the desk holds pretty good cards and knows most of the answers.’

‘I do wish now that I’d told him about the partnership,’ said Margaret.

‘Well, we know why you didn’t, and I still think you were right. Having known about it since November, you couldn’t suddenly spring it on him at the end of April. If he wants to scheme for Aunt Eliza’s money, that’s his affair and it isn’t your fault. He’s been hoist with his own petard, so let’s leave it at that.’

chapter four

Lizzie’s Island

‘And in their courses make that round

In meadows and in marshes found.

Of them so called the Fairy Ground,

Of which they have the keeping.’

Michael Drayton