I sat there by the window, watching the street below.
I’d all but promised Simon. But if I were at Vixen Hill, I could better judge the situation there. And what to do about Sophie.
Would she be better off with the nuns after all? What would it do to a child to be brought up not as herself but as the child everyone had so tragically lost?
A fter a while, I went to find Simon. He’d been out, he said, when I ran him to earth in the telephone closet.
“Have you learned anything about”-I remembered how public this telephone room was-“about our friends?”
“No news yet.”
He came out of the shallow closet and considered me.
“You look distinctly guilty.”
I laughed and pulled him around the corner to the small parlor. When we were out of hearing of the rest of the world, I said, “Lydia came to see me. She wants me to come back to Vixen Hill.”
“And you told her…?”
“That I didn’t think it was wise. She is bringing Mrs. Ellis back to Hartfield, to tell me that I’m welcomed there.”
“And now you’re having second thoughts?”
I bit my lip, trying to think how to put my reasoning into words. But of course I knew that it would have been easier if my reasoning had been sound.
Simon waited patiently. Finally I said, “It’s the little girl. Sophie. I don’t quite know what should be done about her. If her father is taken up for murder, Lydia may marry again. Would she want Sophie then? And if Sophie is left with Mrs. Ellis and Gran, will she live out her life in Juliana’s shadow?” I shrugged. “That’s very muddled.”
“In the first place,” he answered, “the child isn’t your worry. If you let her into your heart, Bess, you’ll never have any peace.”
“But you haven’t seen her,” I told him. “And I have.”
“Which makes it all the harder. I know.” He sighed. “Kittens and puppies. And now someone else’s child. What are we to do with you?”
“At least I didn’t insist on rescuing Bluebell,” I retorted. Then I realized he didn’t know who Bluebell was. “Davis Merrit’s cat.”
He laughed in spite of himself, touching my face with his hand, then he said, serious once more, “Yes, all right. But there’s another problem. I just spoke to the Colonel. I’m needed in London straightaway. It will only be for twenty-four hours. At the most a day and a half. I can’t take you with me, Rother won’t allow it, I’m sure, and yet he’s in Wych Gate, not Hartfield. Much as I dislike saying it, you might be safer in Vixen Hill than staying here in the hotel alone. What’s more, I need the motorcar. If Rother wants to speak to you, he’ll have to come to you. I wish you had that little pistol I’d given you once before.”
“I couldn’t take it to France with me,” I reminded him.
Actually, I didn’t know whether I was pleased or not to be going to Vixen Hill. And I disliked losing Simon. Still, if my father had summoned him, even in these circumstances, it must be very important indeed.
“Yes, all right. I’ll go.”
His hand dropped to my shoulder. “Be careful, Bess. Promise me you’ll take every care.”
“I shall.”
With that he was gone, and I stood there in the parlor where I had waited once before with Lydia and listened for Simon’s footsteps as he returned with his valise and then strode out the door.
I was in my room, still undecided about whether to pack or not, when there was a knock at the door. Expecting Lydia, I opened it, saying, “I’ve decided-”
But it was one of the hotel maids. She bobbed her head, then said, “There’s someone to see you in Reception, Miss. Could you please come down?”
Which sounded very much like Inspector Rother, commanding my presence.
“Yes, all right. Thank you.”
After she had gone, I stood there in my room and counted slowly to one hundred. It wouldn’t do to appear to be anxious.
But when I came down to Reception, there was no sign of Inspector Rother, and when I asked at the desk for my visitor, the woman smiled and said, “I believe he just stepped outside.”
I went to the door and opened it. To my surprise, Roger Ellis was standing there, not Inspector Rother, and even from the back I could tell that he was not in the best of moods. His shoulders were stiff with annoyance.
“Captain?” I said.
He turned. “We can’t talk here. The parlor.”
And so I found myself back in the small parlor facing an angry man.
I thought it was my fault that he was angry. For keeping him waiting, even for making it necessary for him to drive in to Hartfield to beg me to come to Vixen Hill-or perhaps even to tell me not to darken his door.
But I was wrong on all counts.
Shutting the door behind him, Roger Ellis said, “The police, damn them, are talking to my mother again. I thought this business had been settled, that it was Merrit who’d killed George and taken his watch to prove it.”
“I’d thought the same thing-” I began.
But he cut across my words, adding, “It would explain why they sent for you. You were there with her when George was found.”
“I’m not sure why Inspector Rother wished to speak to me. But yes, he asked me to go over the same ground.”
“If Merrit is dead, the case would be wide open again.”
“I suspect you’re right,” I said. “I don’t know whether or not I should tell you this, but Dr. Tilton and his wife informed the police about the exchange between you and George on that last evening. He’ll be wanting to speak to you next.”
Roger swore under his breath. “I sent you upstairs with George and the doctor to prevent just this sort of thing.”
“I’ve told you, George wouldn’t talk to him. It was what was said in the drawing room before he went up that Dr. Tilton and his wife reported to the police. It probably didn’t seem relevant to the police when Davis Merrit was under suspicion, but now-it must loom large.”
“And that will be all over Ashdown before very long. I told my mother we shouldn’t invite George. But he knew Alan, there was really no choice in the matter.”
“You don’t think the police suspect your mother?” I asked, putting it all together. “That makes no sense whatsoever.” Unless it was an effort to make her son confess.
“No, it doesn’t. But who knows which way the wind will blow before this is finished.” He hesitated. “Did you tell Lydia about Rouen? I need to know.”
“I didn’t think it was my place.”
“Thank you. I’d just as soon she didn’t know. Are you coming with me to Vixen Hill?”
“I-didn’t know how you would feel about that.”
“As long as you don’t tell her about the child, or what I said to you that night in France, there should be no problem.”
“Very well then. I haven’t begun my packing. Give me ten minutes, if you will?”
“There’s someone I want to talk to. I’ll be back. My motorcar is just outside.”
I had finished packing and went to the window to see if Captain Ellis had returned. Instead I saw him speaking to someone outside the greengrocer’s shop. And the other man was Willy. They were in earnest conversation as far as I could tell, and just then Willy broke it off and walked away.
Captain Ellis turned back toward The King’s Head, his face like a thundercloud.
