but I suppose we’ve no other course of action.”
Mrs. Jeffries and the Silent Knight
41
“I don’t feel right about it, either, but Mrs. Goodge is
right,” Wiggins said. “Hatchet’s nerves is already strained a
bit and he’d be out of that ‘ouse like a shot if ‘e knew we ‘ad
us a murder. Besides, it don’t feel so much like I’m breakin’
my promise to Luty as long as Hatchet doesn’t know about
the case, either.”
“Luty been runnin’ ‘im ragged,” Smythe chuckled.
“That’s not surprisin’.”
“At first Hatchet was so worried about ‘er, ‘e wouldn’t
leave ‘er side,” Wiggins explained. “But now that Luty’s out
of danger and just needs bed rest, she’s bored and miserable. She’s not bein’ mean or nasty, she just wants a bit of attention.”
“Then it’s settled,” Mrs. Jeffries said firmly. “We’ll wait
until tomorrow to contact Hatchet about the murder. But
contact him we must, we don’t wish to offend him.”
“And we’re likely goin’ to need both he and Luty’s information about the deceased on this case,” the cook said stoutly. She looked at the housekeeper. “You did say the victim was a baronet, right?”
“That’s right,” she glanced at Smythe. He pulled one of
the chairs out from the table and pushed it toward the oven,
then he set his wet boots on it. “Can you tell us the basics, at
least.”
“I’ve got enough for us to get started.” He sat down next
to Betsy. “The house is on Derby Hill Road, which is just
off the Upper Richmond Road. It’s at the end of the street
and sits on about an acre and a half to two acres of land. The
other houses along the road are big ones, but they’ve not got
as much property. It’s goin’ to be bloomin’ ‘ard to do much
investigatin’ along that street, it’s not like London, a
stranger will be noticed right away.”
“Cor blimey,” Wiggins exclaimed. “What am I goin’ to
42
Emily Brightwell
do? You know it’s usually the servants that gives me my bits
and pieces.”
“Not to worry, lad,” the coachman said kindly. “I said it
was goin’ to be difficult, not impossible. We’ll find ways to
find out what we need to know. Sheen Common is about a
quarter of a mile away, and I expect that’s were a lot of the
servants go on their day out. Actually, for a place the size of
the Braxton house, I didn’t see all that many servants.”
“I thought you said the constables were searching the
grounds,” Mrs. Jeffries said. “Perhaps the servants were all
inside.”
“They were, but generally you’d see ‘em comin’ to the
windows to sneak a peek. But I only saw a maid peekin’ out
of one of the attic windows.”
“Perhaps they’re short on staff,” the cook suggested. “A
lot of these old noble families are stingy and work their servants to death.”
“What makes you say it’s an ‘old’ noble family?” Mrs.
Jeffries asked curiously. The cook’s network of connections
was intricate and vast.
Mrs. Goodge shrugged. “I’m not sure; it just popped
into my head. Why?”
“Because sometimes we know things without being
aware we know them.” She shook her head impatiently. “I’m
not explaining this very well, but given your extensive
knowledge of important families in this country, you may
have made the remark because you’ve heard something
about the family without even realizing it.”
“The name of the dead man did sound familiar,” she admitted, “but I honestly can’t remember anything I might have heard about him or his family.”
“The house looked old as the ‘ills,” Smythe remarked.
“It was a big brick monster of a place that looked like bits
Mrs. Jeffries and the Silent Knight
43
had been added onto it without much thought. There was a
terrace running along part of the back of the ‘ouse and
right next to it, a huge greenhouse or conservatory. It was
filled with plants. There was a statue in a pond behind the
terrace, and that’s where the victim was. I did manage to
get a glimpse before the lads hauled the body off to the police van.”
“Were there any other outbuildings?” Mrs. Jeffries asked.
“There was a heap of bricks on the far side of the front of
the house that looked like they ‘ad once been a carriage
‘ouse. But the roof sagged, the windows were broken, and
one of the big doors was gone. There weren’t no carriages inside, nor any others that I could see about the property.”
“You’d think a baronet would have a decent carriage,”
Betsy muttered. “Was the rest of the house shabby?”
“It was a bit ‘ard to tell.” Smythe shook his head. “There
was still a lot of snow about. It was meltin’ fast, but it was
still on the roofs and windowsills. But my impression was
the main ‘ouse was in good enough condition. The grounds
looked really nice, like they’d been well taken care of before
winter set in, and the glass in the greenhouse was so clean,
you could almost count the flowers.”
“You did a fine job of getting the ‘lay of the land’, so to
speak.” Mrs. Jeffries drummed her fingers on the tabletop,
“That ought to give us enough information to get started.”
“Too bad it’s in Richmond.” Betsy made a face. “That’s
not very convenient.”
“It’s not as bad as you think, lass,” Smythe said kindly.
“There’s good train service between Shepherds Bush Station
and Richmond.”
“Shepherds Bush,” she frowned. “Uxbridge is closer, but
I suppose it’ll have to do.”
“You’ll take the local shops, of course.” Mrs. Jeffries nod44
Emily Brightwell
ded. Betsy had a real genius for getting information out of
local shopkeepers.
“There’s some along the main road right by the railway
station,” Smythe said. “I’ll show you. We’ll go along this afternoon. I spotted a pub off the Sheen Common that I want to ‘ave a go at.”
“What can I do?” Wiggins asked glumly. “The servants
aren’t likely to be on the common today, with a death in the
‘ouse, they’ll not be getting any time out today.”
“No, but it’s someone’s day out. Staff from other houses
might be out taking the air on the common or going to and
from the train station. Have a go at it, Wiggins. Servants
talk to one another, and you never know what you might
find out until you look,” Mrs. Jeffries said encouragingly.
He didn’t look convinced. “Well, I don’t know, Mrs. Jeffries. It’s a bit of a gamble.” He
