does look lovely,” I agreed. “Perfect for Christmas.”
“Good food here, eh, miss?” she said, setting down the tray. “Will you be wearing your tartan skirt and the jumper again?”
“No, I think the gray jersey dress and my pearls. The Americans will expect me to look like royalty.”
“Yer gray dress and pearls?” Queenie said. “Won’t you be a bit cold in that?”
“No, the house is actually quite warm,” I said. “You can put them out while I go and have a bath. Let’s hope the bathroom is free at this hour.”
“I thought I might pop down and visit my auntie ’ettie after breakfast, if that’s all right with you,” she said, handing me my robe.
“Of course. She asked after you.”
Reluctantly leaving the warmth of my bed and taking a good swig of tea, I slipped on my robe. I had just assembled my sponge bag and towel and was halfway down the hall when I heard a violent hammering at the front door. I paused, looking down from the gallery with unabashed curiosity. Was this the first visitors arriving so early?
The aged butler went to the door and I heard a young woman’s voice, thick with the local accent, saying, “Oh, Mr. Dickson. Terrible news. It’s Miss Effie. We just found the gas turned on in her bedroom and Miss Effie stone dead. We don’t have a telephone in the house so Miss Florrie sent me to call the doctor—though what he can do, I can’t imagine. Stone dead, she were, God rest her poor soul.”
This outburst brought Lady Hawse-Gorzley through from the dining room. “What’s going on, Dickson? What’s this all about?”
“It’s the girl from the Misses Ffrench-Finch, my lady,” Dickson said, his voice wavering a little with emotion. “It seems that one of the ladies has been found dead in her bed, and this girl wishes us to telephone for the doctor.”
“How awful. I’m so sorry,” Lady Hawse-Gorzley said. “Come on in, my dear. What a shock for you. Which of the Misses Ffrench-Finch was it?”
“Miss Effie,” the girl said, swallowing back a sob that rose in her throat. “I don’t know what the other two are going to do without her. She was always the strong one, the one who bossed us all around.”
Lady Hawse-Gorzley put an arm around her shoulder. “Well, she was no longer young, was she? I suppose it was her heart?”
“Oh, no, ma’am. Like I were telling Mr. Dickson, we found the gas turned on for her gas fire, but no flame lit. She must have been breathing that gas all night.”
Lady Hawse-Gorzley sprang into action. “Dickson, please telephone Dr. Wainwright and tell his receptionist he is wanted immediately at the Misses Ffrench-Finch. I had better come over right away, hadn’t I? I imagine there is chaos.”
“Well, ma’am, Miss Prendergast is already there. I expect she’d be comforting Miss Florrie and Miss Lizzie. She just happened to be passing on her usual morning walk, so she went straight inside and was her usual efficient self. But of course she doesn’t have a telephone neither, so that’s why she sent me here.”
I didn’t wait a second longer, but headed straight back to my room. Queenie hadn’t got around to laying out my clothes. “I thought you was taking a bath, miss,” she said when confronted. I didn’t have time for explanations and hurriedly put on the kilt and jumper I had worn the day before, then ran down the stairs and along the drive to catch up with Lady Hawse-Gorzley. The snow now lay several inches deep and I wished I had taken the time to put on sturdier shoes.
“You heard the ghastly news, I take it,” she said, hearing my footsteps behind her. “They must have made a mistake. The poor old thing probably died in her sleep from natural causes. It wouldn’t be like Miss Effie to forget to light the gas or to turn it on by mistake. She’s the efficient one of the three. She was the one who looked after the other two and kept them in line.” She sounded genuinely upset. “It’s not right,” she added. “Three deaths in three days. We’ll have people really start to believe in the Lovey Curse and then my guests will all want to go home.”
“I’ve always heard that bad things come in threes, haven’t you?” I said to her. “Three deaths in a row is not unprecedented, especially as they are all so very different. Perhaps we’ll find there was a malfunction with the gas fire. Perhaps the wind blew out a low flame. All kinds of simple explanations.”
She looked at me as if she had only just realized to whom she was speaking. “Lady Georgiana, I really can’t expect you to get involved in our local unpleasantness. Why don’t you go home and have breakfast? I’ll join you as soon as I can.”
“I thought maybe I might be able to help,” I said.
“Well, all right. Won’t say no. Could use the company. Dashed awful, isn’t it?”
We were just crossing the road when I heard my name being called and saw my grandfather waving. “Just been out to get the morning papers,” he said, striding toward us. “Mrs. Huggins likes her
“Yes, it’s lovely,” I said.
He picked up something in my manner. “Why, what’s the matter, love?”
“One of the old ladies who lives in this house has just died in suspicious circumstances. This is Lady Hawse- Gorzley. You met her daughter yesterday.” I turned to her. “This is my grandfather. He used to be in the Metropolitan Police. Perhaps it might be a good thing if he came with us.”
“Oh, dear.” Lady Hawse-Gorzley looked worried. “Surely we’re only dealing with another ghastly accident, aren’t we? You yourself just said that deaths come in threes.”
“I said bad things come in threes,” I corrected. “And I hope we are just dealing with a ghastly accident. But it couldn’t hurt if my grandfather came with us to take a look.”
“But the ladies won’t be ready to receive gentlemen callers at this hour,” Lady Hawse-Gorzley exclaimed in horror. “They may still be in their night attire.”
Granddad laughed. “I’ve seen worse than night attire in my thirty years on the force,” he said. “Still, I won’t come in if I’m not wanted.”
Lady Hawse-Gorzley relented. “It might be useful to have a trained professional eye on the scene. And I suppose the police will have to be called eventually.”
We went up the path to the front door. It was a solid, square Georgian house in local Devon sandstone and was of pleasing proportions. The type of house the old wool merchants built for themselves when wool meant prosperity. We found the front door still ajar. Lady Hawse-Gorzley pushed it open and we were met in the front hall by a frantic-looking housekeeper. Her apron was on askew and her hair an unsightly mess.
“Oh, it’s you, Lady Hawse-Gorzley. What a terrible thing to happen. Poor Miss Effie. We sent the girl to telephone for the doctor.”
“Dickson is helping her do so at this moment,” Lady Hawse-Gorzley said. “This gentleman is a former detective from Scotland Yard. He may be able to throw some light on what happened.”
“Throw some light,” the woman said. “There was something wrong with that gas, that’s all. What else could there be?”
We went up a broad curved staircase and were met at the top by Miss Prendergast, who was trying to give an impression of being calm while clearly being considerably agitated.
“Thank God somebody else has come,” she said. “What a terrible business. I didn’t believe it when the maid ran out in hysterics. But I’m afraid it’s true. See for yourselves.”
She opened the door to a bedroom. The faint odor of gas still lingered, but the windows were wide open and an ice-cold breeze blew in. I glanced at the small white figure in the bed. She looked so tiny, so frail. I looked away hurriedly and rather wished I hadn’t come. What had made me think I could be of any use?
Granddad looked around. “I don’t know how she managed to kill herself in a big room like this with the windows open,” he said.
“Oh, no, I opened the windows,” Miss Prendergast said quickly. “Everyone here was in such a state, they hadn’t even thought to do so. So it was the first thing I did. I turned off the gas and opened the windows or we might all have suffered the same fate as Miss Effie. They were shut tightly. The smell in here was horrible. Poor woman. It had to have been a malfunction. Either that or one of the servants turned it on and forgot to light it properly. Of course, you’ll never get her to own up to it now.”
