Page 10 of Deadly Ghost (Angus Brodie and Mikaela Forsythe Murder Mystery #12)

Nine

The ride to Sussex Square took the better part of an hour as the driver made our way through evening congestion of other coaches, wagons with the last delivery of the day, and the weather.

Upon our arrival I paid him an additional amount as promised.

“I never seen the like,” he said in parting as Rupert ran up the steps to the main entrance.

I then joined the hound as the front door of the main entrance swung open and I was greeted by Mr. Symons, head butler and guardian of the door at Sussex Square.

He had been in my great aunt’s employ for many years and had experienced not only her somewhat creative exploits, but mine as well.

“Good evening, miss.” He cast a wary look down at Rupert.

Not that Mr. Symons disapproved of him, merely the chaos he caused when he had accompanied me in the past.

For his part, while the hound was usually well behaved once inside the manor, he had a habit of exploring, which usually included a thorough inspection of the kitchens where food was most definitely a change from cast-off bones, a dead chicken, or an old boot found on the streets of the East End.

Not to mention that he had a habit of unsettling the servants. And then there were the gardens and the forest beyond, where something alive might be found. Most definitely paradise for a scavenger.

“Be on your way then,” I told him.

I had no way of knowing whether or not he understood, of course, yet he immediately charged off through the porte cochere and around the corner, then disappeared.

Let the squirrels and birds be warned, I thought.

Mr. Symons did appear somewhat relieved. “Her ladyship is in the small drawing room.”

“Is all well?” I inquired as I handed my umbrella and coat to a footman.

“Quite well, miss. Now that her ladyship has returned with the young miss.”

“Returned?”

“They were out and about earlier today,” he replied. “Taking care of business, as she explained.”

In view of the weather that seemed a bit unusual. “I presume Mr. Munro accompanied them?”

“Miss Lily was with her, as she has become quite accomplished at maneuvering the motor carriage.”

Oh, dear.

Aunt Antonia had acquired the motor carriage the year previous. Since then, she had practiced her skills, as she called it, motoring about the track she had installed on the green just beyond the gardens.

Practice had eventually included ‘adventuring’ across London, usually with Mr. Munro, as a precaution against any mishaps or in the event she became disoriented. Each foray onto the streets of London had brought some concern with it on my part, as I imagined all sorts of catastrophes.

“It’s quite all right,” Lily had assured me, dressed in a motoring costume with a pair of goggles on that first ‘excursion.’ “ I carry a weapon, just in case we meet up with any rough sort.”

With that, she had brandished a flintlock revolver from the weapons display on the second-floor hall.

That had been less than reassuring. Yet, since then, Lily had become most proficient, due to Mr. Munro’s lessons.

“It was either that or have her dispatch one of the servants by accident ,” he had explained, much to Brodie’s amusement at the time.

“ Aye, a bit of a resemblance ,” he had commented. I had ignored him.

Still, there was no ignoring the present situation or the urgency of that note.

My great aunt was not given to ‘urgencies,’ not even when I had taken myself off on one of my adventures a handful of years earlier with my Greek guide to the island of Crete, and she decided it was necessary to fetch me back to London as she put it—my first encounter with Brodie.

I thanked Mr. Symons and proceeded across the main hall to the ‘small drawing room,’ which was somewhat of a misnomer.

Sussex Square was a vast, sprawling fortress, the oldest parts very near eight hundred years old, from the time of the Conquest.

It had been re-built after some notable skirmishes with enemies of the King at the walls—King William, that is, an ancestor of the Montgomery family.

It was re-built again over the centuries, and included the Georgian-style part of the manor that included a water tower that produced electricity—a recent addition that was much of an improvement over oil lanterns, indoor plumbing, and the dreaded telephone that Aunt Antonia was in the habit of cursing whenever it rang.

However, she was coming round on that one, and also did much appreciate the modern plumbing.

“Imagine,” she had exclaimed more than once. “Indoor flush at the pull of the chain! Remarkable!”

After the death of both parents, Linnie and I had been raised in this somewhat odd but fascinating pile of stone and history. We had explored most of it, yet there were still parts we had not. Only recently I had ventured through the forest with Munro and discovered the Smugglers Gate.

I had always wondered if there was a dungeon. That was an exploration perhaps for Lily.

“Here you are, dear,” Aunt Antonia greeted me as I reached the drawing room. “I thought you might have been kept overlong in your meeting with that nasty newspaper fellow ... or perhaps the Grantham woman,” she added almost as an afterthought.

It always surprised me that she seemed to be very well informed. I might have asked her source for that information if not for something that immediately stopped me at the opening to the drawing room.

She was dressed in her motoring costume as she called it—a pair of tailored men’s riding pants, matching jacket, with a turtleneck jumper, and knee-high boots. A pair of mud-splattered goggles lay on the side table where she stood with whisky glass in hand.

I should have expected it after Mr. Symons news of her adventure that day with Lily.

“There is such freedom in men’s pants, don’t you agree, Mikaela dear? Will you join me in a bit of whisky? The latest shipment is most excellent.”

The latest shipment was always ‘most excellent.’

She crossed the drawing room and handed me a tumbler.

I was still recovering from the sight of her costume when Lily arrived.

“Has she told ye?” she asked, quite excited. She was dressed much the same.

“Out and about in the city today?” I replied and took a sip, for courage I had once heard described. That certainly seemed that it might be the case.

“Just a bit of an outing,” Aunt Antonia replied. “Quite tricky, navigating the streets in a downpour, but I thought the matter could be quite useful to our case.”

Useful? Oh dear. And there was more.

“It came to me in a flash,” she explained. “Something that could be most important,” she explained. “Therefore, I placed a telephone call to Dickie, my banker. You do remember Sir Richard?”

I did and took another sip.

“I was put off by a clerk—simple young man. I doubt he can button his trousers by himself.” She smiled.

“I then asked to speak with Sir Richard and explained to the clerk what it was that I wanted. I was informed that the information was a private matter and not provided to anyone outside the bank.”

I pitied the poor clerk. He was obviously new, hadn’t been forewarned, and had no idea who or what he was dealing with.

“That is when I decided that a visit to the bank was called for, and we set off.”

“Munro should have accompanied you.” I pointed out.

“He was off to see about the last delivery from Old Lodge. Not that he was needed. We made the trip quite efficiently.”

“There was just the one incident,” Lily added. “The man who tried to board the motor carriage.”

Aunt Antonia waved it off. She obviously considered it of no consequence.

“A minor incident and Lily quickly dispatched the man.”

When I looked over at Lily, she simply smiled. Another sip was required.

“Dickie was still in some meeting or another when we arrived.” Aunt Antonia crossed the drawing room to one of the leather chairs in front of the hearth.

“Everyone was quite beside themselves when we entered the bank, particularly the clerk I had spoken with.” She took up the tale. “We were immediately shown to a private office.”

For the sake of everyone present, no doubt.

“I never saw the likes,” Lily added. “As if the Queen had walked into the bank. Everyone rushing about, like when the ladies at the Church offered free-ones and customers crowded the place.”

That momentarily halted the conversation. We both looked at her.

“Free ones?” Aunt Antonia was the first to recover. “I had no idea. How very enterprising.”

It took me a moment to catch up. I did not ask for an explanation as the meaning was quite clear.

“That was when her ladyship told them what she wanted, and we would wait until they provided the information,” Lily explained. “Everything happened very quick after that.”

I could only imagine.

“What information?” I managed to inquire.

Aunt Antonia motioned to Lily. “Another dram, Lily dear. If you please.”

“I thought it could be useful to your inquiry case to have information about the financial situation of the Grantham estate,” she explained as Lily poured. I held out my glass.

“Usually a private matter,” I pointed out.

“Yes,” she admitted. “However, there are ways ... And it did seem that the information could be important.” She took another sip of whisky.

“I learned that Grantham had substantial debts, not unusual when one is a member of Parliament. They are not compensated, you know.”

I didn’t. However, there was more.

“They must rely on other means for their living.” She set her glass on the side table.

“I had heard that Lady Anne had an inheritance upon the death of her father. Apparently that was substantially depleted over the years, and the debts were taken on as a matter of course, and for the usual things, including the education of the daughter; tutors, sent to France; and trips abroad later on.”

That would have been Victoria Grantham.

“Not surprising there is a sizable loan from the bank.” She poured another dram. “According to what I was told, the manor will have to be sold to pay the debts. It seems that Lady Anne had already made inquiries in that regard and had plans to retire to the country and live with a cousin or some other distant relation.

“Dreadful situation,” she added. “As I have always said, one should never let a man handle one’s money.”

Words I had grown up with. I didn’t bother to think about the influence all of this might have on Lily. I had survived quite nicely, and she would as well.

I did, however, think about the information Aunt Antonia had learned. The Grantham estate was deeply in debt. The only other support for some time had come from a family inheritance that was substantially depleted through the years, certainly not enough to live off. And Lady Anne had made the decision to retire to the country to live after the manor was sold to pay those debts.

It was a story that was all too familiar, including the situation Linnie and I had experienced as young children.

“What of Victoria Grantham?” I asked.

“Not without prospects,” Aunt Antonia replied. “It does seem that Lady Anne has spent a great deal for the young woman’s education over the years. She might find a position.”

That did not seem likely of the young woman I had met with. That brought me back to those letters and documents.

Perhaps a way out of her financial difficulty? Most certainly, her claim might well be the means to provide that solution. If her claim was true.

“Now, you must tell me of your meeting with Victoria Grantham,” Aunt Antonia insisted.

“It was very brief,” I replied as I thought back to earlier that afternoon and tried to make sense of it.

“She seemed to be overcome by some malady and I was forced to leave.”

“That is curious,” Lily commented. “She was the one who insisted on the meeting.”

I agreed. Instead of any answers, there were still only questions, and I thought of that cloth that I’d found in the library.

There had been no opportunity to examine it further after I received that message from my great aunt. I did wonder what that might tell us.

It was then that Mr. Symons announced that Brodie had arrived.

“Ah, Mr. Brodie,” Aunt Antonia greeted him as he came into the drawing room. “You must join us. A dram, to take away the chill of the afternoon. Mikaela was just telling us about her meeting with Victoria Grantham.”

That dark gaze met mine. I shook my head in a silent message that I would explain later, and handed him a tumbler of Old Lodge. He tossed back the contents.

“You were called away earlier,” I commented.

“A minor matter ... for the agency,” he replied.

It seemed there was a great deal to be discussed later.

“I see that ye and Miss Lily have been out and about, Your Grace.”

“No need to stand on formalities, Brodie,” she replied. “And you do seem to be in need of a bit of refreshment. Do see that your husband has another dram, Mikaela.”

We passed the next hour as my great aunt shared once more about their adventure and what she had learned at the bank.

“Aye,” Brodie replied with a look over to me. “The information could be important.”

She insisted that we remain for early supper. We chose to leave afterward and made our excuses. Rupert had finally made an appearance, yet was not eager to accompany us.

Lily pleaded for him to remain. He seemed most content with that and had charged through the main hall to the distress of the household staff.

“Of course he must stay,” Aunt Antonia announced. “Mr. Phipps has been complaining that we have a badger making a mess of the gardens. Perhaps Rupert can assist.”

A badger—I wasn’t at all certain which one might come out the better in a confrontation, although Rupert did have a great deal of experience with all sorts of dangerous encounters on the streets.

Much to Lily’s delight, it was decided that he would remain, at least for the night.

“You will let me know if I can assist further,” Aunt Antonia reminded us in parting, as Mr. Hastings, her coachman, arrived to take us back to the office. “The inquiry business is most exciting.”

I had to admit that I cringed at the thought. I could only imagine the difficulties she might get herself into.

“She had a most excitin’ day,” Brodie commented as we departed.

“Do not encourage her,” I replied. “It’s one thing to make inquiries with her banker or Sir Laughton. It is quite another to have her off and about on the streets, looking for clues. She is quite taken with the idea and with no sense of caution.”

“Sense of caution?” he replied, his expression amused in the light through the coach window as we passed a street lamp.

“Do not look at me that way.”

“What way would that be?”

“You know very well,” I replied.

The ride to the office on the Strand provided an opportunity to speak of things neither of us had shared earlier.

“It seems there is more to your visit with Miss Grantham than you shared with her ladyship,” Brodie commented.

“And with you as well,” I pointed out. “A matter for the Agency?”

An excuse, to be certain, as there were obviously things he’d learned that he chose not to discuss earlier.

“Aye.”

Mr. Cavendish greeted us as we arrived.

“So, the filthy beggar has moved up with her ladyship,” he commented drily regarding Rupert’s stay-over.

“All well and good. The beast snores most pitiful, beg pardon, miss.” Then added, “I think I’ll take meself over to the Public House for a bit of ale, and get out of the weather.”

That most usually included a stay-over with Miss Effie, who had a flat nearby. He would need to ‘escort’ her there after the ‘Public House closed for the night.’

I climbed the steps after he set off across the street, pleased that he had ‘a friend,’ as he referred to Miss Effie.

I set my bag on the floor, then pulled that piece of white cloth from the pocket of my long coat.

The smell was still there, quite strong in spite of the fact that it was several hours since I discovered it. I laid it on Brodie’s desk.

He arrived as well, closed the door and set the bolt, then removed his coat and hung it on the rack.

“Wot is this?” he asked as he noticed the cloth.

“‘Something more’ that I discovered in my meeting with Victoria Grantham.”

He picked the cloth up and frowned, having obviously identified the scent. He looked over at me. “Chloroform?”

I went on to explain everything I had observed and sensed in that meeting with Victoria Grantham that had ended far too soon.

In addition to the smell of chloroform on that cloth, there was her manner, the responses that were cordial one moment, then quite agitated the next, along with the headache that came on and seemed quite dreadful. I had attempted to assist her and she had become quite angry.

There was something more.

“Yer instincts?” Brodie commented.

I had struggled with it on the ride earlier back to the office and since, that feeling that there was far more to the woman’s story than we had yet learned. It seemed there might be a very strong motive to pursue her claim with the information Aunt Antonia had learned.

“What about that ‘matter for the agenc y?’” I asked regarding the excuse he had given earlier.

He then told me about the man we had both seen leaving the Grantham manor.

“Aldgate?” I replied with more than a little surprise.

It was a part of London far removed from Waverly Place, and initially might seem highly unlikely that Victoria Grantham would know anyone there. Yet, it appeared very much the situation.

Brodie had followed the man, then entered his flat after he departed and discovered exactly what he had placed in a safe. Whatever his connection was to Victoria Grantham, he had been well compensated.

“You might very well have been caught,” I pointed out.

“The man was far more interested in the tavern on the corner, and Aldgate is not on the regular foot patrol of the MET.”

He would know that of course.

“There has to be more to this.”

What was the man about and the reason he had been at Waverly Manor? And now to learn that Victoria Grantham’s situation was precarious financially? What did any of it mean?

Was it possible the woman’s claim was false?

There was a part of me that wanted to believe it, in spite of the evidence she had provided ... in spite of that faint resemblance ... and in spite of her seemingly sincere reasons, that she only wanted to know her true family.

But was it something more?

“It’s near midnight, lass,” Brodie reminded me sometime later as I stared at the notes on the board.

“Come away for now. Ye willna find the answers tonight.”

He was right of course. As much as I wanted—needed—to make sense of it. The solution wasn’t there. Yet.