Page 28

G arrick, oddly enough, seemed almost human when Solomon encountered him in the hall. He made no effort to walk away or even to look down his nose. He even walked to meet Solomon, saying bluntly, “Can you find her, sir?”

“I hope so,” Solomon returned. He glanced around at the housemaid bustling by and added, “Come in here a moment, will you?” He walked into the small reception room close to the front door, and Garrick followed without objection, even closing the door at Solomon’s silent command.

“When did she leave the house, Garrick?”

“I don’t know,” the butler said with what seemed to be genuine misery. “I didn’t see her go.”

“Were any of the doors unlocked when you came down this morning?”

“Oh dear, you don’t think she went off in the middle of the night, do you?” Alarm stood out in his face. “Poor lady’s got no idea about the nasty world out there—anything could have happened to her!”

Solomon regarded him more closely. “Why do you say that?”

“Well, she’s the kindest of ladies, sir, wouldn’t hurt a fly, give you anything she could from a kind word to a sixpence for medicine when you got a cold.

Knitted winter scarves for all the maids, she did.

But she’s vague, sir, forgets stuff, and never had to find out there’s villains in the world who’d rob her blind or knock her down for her handkerchief. ”

“I understand she does a lot of good works, through the church and various charities. Do you really think she could go among the poorest in society, into areas that most of us would hesitate to venture, without coming across life ?”

Garrick closed his mouth, ruminating on this novel point of view.

“I never thought of it like that,” he said at last. “I just know she’s not valued in this house as she should be.

” He glanced somewhat fearfully toward the door as though he expected his employers to charge in and dismiss him for effrontery or disloyalty.

“What makes you think so?” Solomon asked.

“They don’t pay any attention to her. Oh, they feed her—except when they have guests to dinner, then she gets a tray in her room. She doesn’t go calling with them; she doesn’t go to parties or join Mrs. Lloyd’s entertainments.”

And she didn’t go to the opera with them. “Why is that, do you suppose?”

Garrick shrugged, his upper lip curling very slightly.

Probably, he didn’t even notice it happening.

“She makes the house look untidy, gives away the fact that they neglect her. She was brought up with a maid to help her dress and do her hair, and now the staff is so cut back here, the housemaid’s got no time to see to her. ”

“What of the younger members of the household?”

“Children follow the lead of their parents,” Garrick said darkly. “Though Miss Rachel still goes up to her often enough. She likes children, Miss Lloyd does. Such a pity she never had any of her own.”

Solomon returned to the original question. “ Were any of the doors unlocked this morning?”

Garrick shook his head. “No, that’s one blessing.”

“Is it? Her bed hadn’t been slept in, I understand, so she must have left the house before you bolted the doors for the night. When did you last see her?”

“When dinner was served. Oh, God…”

“Not after dinner?”

“No, I don’t… Wait, I did notice her go upstairs when the other ladies went to the drawing room. That wasn’t unusual. Sometimes she came back down again with her book or her work basket.”

“Did she last night?”

“I didn’t see her if she did.”

“Did the upstairs maids see her at all, either last night or this morning?”

“No, sir,” Garrick said unhappily. “But that’s not unusual either. She just goes about her own business and no one notices.”

If she was so very kind to the servants, they might well notice… “I may want to speak to the other servants later, but I’d better see the rest of the family, if they’re in.”

“The ladies are in the drawing room, sir. Shall I announce you?”

“Yes, if you please,” Solomon replied, trying not to blink at this unprecedented courtesy. Garrick really was worried. “Um, and where would I find Miss Rachel? In the schoolroom?”

Garrick regarded him. “If I drop a word, I daresay she might run into you.”

Mrs. Lloyd and her elder daughter were seated in the drawing room, both with needlework on their laps, although neither appeared to be attending to it.

“Oh, Mr. Grey!” Jemimah exclaimed, springing up so that her embroidery frame slid to the floor. “Have you found my aunt?”

“Not yet,” Solomon said, bowing to both ladies. “But I understand it was you, Miss Jemimah, who first realized she was missing from home.”

“It seems so, yes. Rachel and I went to her room—”

“Rachel should have been in the schoolroom,” Mrs. Lloyd interrupted, frowning.

“Oh, she is bored, Mama! You cannot expect her to sit there day after day with no company, no teacher, and the tedious task of copying out long, dreary passages from supposedly improving books that don’t improve anything at all except one’s interest in something—anything!—else.”

“Jemimah!” exclaimed her mother, clearly shocked, and slightly embarrassed.

“I promised Rachel we would go on an outing, only I knew you would kick up a fuss if we went alone, so—”

“Kick up a fuss?” Mrs. Lloyd repeated, apparently more stunned than angered by the language.

“Exactly. So we went to Aunt Aud to see if she would come with us. We thought she might enjoy it, too. After all, the poor old thing never does anything but charity—which is very worthy, of course,” she added hastily, “only I can’t help thinking it would be very dull all the time.”

“And your aunt was not in her room,” Solomon said, bringing her musings back to the matter in hand.

“No. We thought we had missed her until Rachel noticed that the bed was still turned down from last night, and looked quite unslept in. Plus, the place was tidy , and Aunt is never tidy. Her dressing gown was gone from the back of her door, and when we looked in her wardrobe, most of her clothes had gone too. So had her old carpetbag that she used to take when she accompanied the poor children to the seaside for an overnight stay. She did enjoy that.”

“You believe she has gone to the seaside?” Solomon asked.

“Hardly,” Mrs. Lloyd said disparagingly. “Not without telling us. She had not asked my husband or me for the money to travel.”

“Then she did not have means of her own?”

“No. We make her an allowance of course, though it has to be small, for otherwise she would waste pounds on her wretched charities—which, as far as I can see, give far too much to the thieves and loafers who should be doing a decent day’s work to keep themselves and their families.”

Solomon let that one go. “When she went to the seaside with her poor children, where did she go?”

“I don’t actually know,” Mrs. Lloyd said in surprise.

Jemimah looked humbler, if not ashamed. “Neither do I. Isn’t that shocking?”

“Did Miss Lloyd join you in the drawing room after dinner?” Solomon asked.

“Yes,” Mrs. Lloyd replied.

“No,” Jemimah said at the same time. She glanced at her mother. “That is, I don’t think so. I didn’t particularly notice because I have a great deal on my mind just now.”

“My sister-in-law is so quiet, one doesn’t always notice her,” Mrs. Lloyd added.

“So, you didn’t actually notice whether she joined you last night or not?” Solomon pressed.

“I assumed she had,” Mrs. Lloyd said. “She generally does.”

“But the last time you actually recall seeing her was at dinner? She was at dinner?”

“Yes!” Jemimah said, triumphantly, apparently unaware of his sarcasm. “For she dropped her fork with a terrible clatter and we had to distract Papa before he—er…got angry,” she muttered, avoiding her mother’s gaze.

“But you did not see her after that? No one went to say goodnight to her?”

“We respect her privacy,” Mrs. Lloyd said stiffly. “If she is in her bedchamber, that is clearly what she desires.”

“Then you and Miss Lloyd are not in the habit of visiting each other’s bedchambers?”

“No,” Mrs. Lloyd said haughtily. “Ours was not that kind of relationship.”

“And yet you must have known each other for more than twenty years. How many of those has she spent in your house?”

“All of them. My husband decided to let our country estate, so she could not stay there. When we have gone back there between lets for a month or so, she comes with us, of course.”

“I see… Well, thank you for your time. I shall just go and have another word with your servants, if you don’t mind.” He paused, his hand on the doorknob, and glanced back. “One more thing. Have either of you met a Mr. Joshua Clarke?”

“No,” Mrs. Lloyd replied after the briefest pause.

Jemimah frowned. “Isn’t he Papa’s solicitor?”

“No, that’s Clark son ,” her mother said impatiently.

“Oh. So it is. Sorry, Mr. Grey. Please find the old thing. We miss her.”

Solomon rather doubted that, although of course they were used to her, and there was a genuine if mild affection in Jemimah’s voice, at least. It looked to him very much as if Audrey Lloyd had left the house of her own volition, avoiding family and servants.

And he wasn’t altogether sure he blamed her.

Had the worm turned? Had she somehow found out that the treasure was in Clarke’s possession and shot him for it?

He couldn’t truly imagine the vague, charitable, kind woman doing anything so violent.

And yet she had lied to him about Clarke’s sister.

Had she discovered that Clarke was Samuels the carpenter from the Queen of the Sea and guessed that he was the thief?

Knowing she would get no share of the treasure from her brother, had she decided to take it and flee to a new life?

Perhaps she had merely meant to threaten, and Clarke had attacked her and the gun had gone off.

Where the devil had she got a gun?

“Good afternoon, Mr. Grey,” said a voice from above.