Having become momentarily sidetracked,ordering a next-day priority death certificate for Edward from the GeneralRegister Office website, Morton switched his focus back to the photographstaken at Blackfriars. The second image was of the Day Book, whichmentioned the disastrous start of Mary’s work at Blackfriars. Mortonre-read the contents of the page then held his breath as he clicked onto thenext image, which he had taken covertly; he hoped that his haste to take thepictures hadn’t resulted in their being out of focus or illegible. Thankfully, the image was clear. The entries for Monday 10thand Tuesday 11th were brief and routine: food supplies purchased andlandscape works completed around the estate. Then he came toWednesday—the date of Mary’s disappearance.
Wednesday 12th April. Lady Philadelphia and some of the female staff returned prematurely from thehunting trip to Scotland. Lady Philadelphia suffering from morningsickness. Discovered one of the housemaids, Miss Mercer, in LadyPhiladelphia’s bedroom wearing her finest ball gown and some of the mostprecious Mansfield jewellery. Servant dismissed. Replacementcurrently being sought. Lady Philadelphia much improved upon return toBlackfriars. Mrs Cuff.
Morton re-read the entry several times,trying to absorb the content. He didn’t know what he had been expectingto find, but something so trifling and bland left him with a sagging feeling ofdisappointment. Mary had been found wearing the lady of the house’sclothes and jewellery and was then promptly sacked. It was understandablya dismissible offence, but why did Sidney Mersham not want him to see the entrymore than one hundred years later? Morton stared at the screen. Thedocument clearly added new information about Mary’s last known hours, but itsrevelation to Morton would not now have damaged the Mansfield reputation: itwas hardly a headline-grabbing scandal. If it hadn’t been for her subsequentdisappearance, it would have been almost a comical end to her employment withthem. What happened next? he wondered. Where did you gofrom there, Mary? What am I not seeing that they don’t want me to see? There was clearly something he wasn’t quite getting. Morton read theentries for the rest of the week: nothing of any consequence had been noted butfor the return of the rest of the household from the hunting expedition.
Saturday 15th April 1911. Household all returned from hunting trip to Scotland. Mr Risler remainedin Scotland with Mr Frederick Mansfield for extended break.
Morton looked at his copy of the letterthat Mary had written from Scotland. It had been postmarked Monday 17thApril. There was a definite overlap in time when Mary was sacked fromBlackfriars and wrote the letter from Scotland whilst the family were also inthat country. Did Mary go to Scotland because the family werethere? Was there someone there she ran to?
He clicked the previewer on to the nextimage. It was for the Day Book commencing Monday 17thApril. Only one entry stood out from mundane estate business:
Tuesday 18th April. Doctor visited and confirmed that Lady Philadelphia is expecting a child.
Morton looked at the final image takensecretly at Blackfriars. It was for the week prior to Mary’s sacking,commencing Monday 3rd April 1911. He carefully read thepage. Among the routines and incidental comings and goings, he noted downthe entry detailing the Mansfield expedition to Scotland.
Wednesday 5th April. LordCecil, Lady Philadelphia and Mr Frederick Mansfield departed for Boughton Housefor the annual deer hunt. Accompanying staff: Mr Risler, Mrs Cuff, JackMaslow, James Daniels, Edward Mercer, Thomas Redfern, Sarah Herriot, ClaraEllingham, Eliza Bootle, Susannah Routledge, Agnes Thompson.
Morton examined each name. DidMary go to Scotland to be with one of you? he wondered as he stared at theentry. He looked curiously at the page as a whole. Something wasdifferent between the first week and the following two weeks. He clickedback and spotted it: the handwriting was different. The week’s entriesbeginning Monday 3rd April and Monday 10th April werewritten by the same person and signed off with Mrs Cuff’s signature. Theweek commencing Monday 17th April was written by a different handand signed by Mr Risler. When he looked again at the Day Book for earlyJanuary, he saw that it had also been signed off by Mrs Cuff. He couldonly surmise that up to the week of Mary’s sacking, Mrs Cuff was solelyresponsible for the Day Book, the entries afterwards being completed by MrRisler, the butler. Not that exciting, but again worth noting. Morton’s rising fear that Mrs Cuff might have also died around the same timewas allayed when he confirmed her continued employment as housekeeper in thewages book. If she hadn’t died or left Blackfriars, was it then asimple coincidence that she stopped being the person to sign off the Day Bookafter Mary vanished? Morton thought maybe not. He scribbled theinformation on a Post-it note and stuck it to the wall. He clicked‘print’ on all the images taken at Blackfriars, ran a yellow highlighter overthe relevant parts, then Blu-Tacked them to the wall.
Morton moved to the open window andwatched the plethora of summer tourists pushing their way up the cobbles ofMermaid Street. With casual glances to the growing patchwork of evidenceattached to his wall, Morton allowed his mind to wander around the puzzle ofthe Mercer Case. The Scotland coincidence bothered him. Maryhad apparently written a letter from there, severing all ties with her familyin Sussex at a time when the majority of the Mansfield family and theirdomestic servants were on a hunting trip in the same place.
Returning to his laptop, Morton used theScotland’s People website to run meticulous searches in their archives using avariety of name combinations for Mary. Of the various Mary Mercers thatshowed up, each was demonstrably not the correct person. Yet she hadwritten a letter postmarked in Scotland.
Drinking the dregs of his coffee, andvowing it to be his last cup of the day, Morton opened up the digital image ofMary’s letter. In the new knowledge of Mary’s dismissal, one phrase stuckout. I have behaved and acted in an unforgivable manner, which, if youwere to learn of the whole matter, would bring embarrassment to the Mercername. Wearing the mistress of the house’s clothes and jewellery wasnot behaving in an unforgivable manner, even by Edwardian standards.
It didn’t
