Ignoring Marge’s stuttered greeting, Elizabeth said quietly, “How nice to know the future of our country is in such capable hands. I wonder if Mr. Churchill is aware of Rita Crumm’s magnificent contributions to such a worthy cause.”
Marge and a few of the others giggled, while Rita had the grace to look embarrassed, though she covered it well. “Lady Elizabeth,” she said, rising from her chair. “We were just talking about you.”
“So I heard.” Elizabeth nodded at the rest of the group. “Please don’t get up. I’m only here for a moment. I was wondering if Nellie has been found. I don’t see her here.”
“Not only has Nellie not turned up, your ladyship,” Marge said, earning a scowl from Rita, “but now Florrie’s missing, too.”
Elizabeth stared at her in alarm. “Great heavens! Are you sure?”
“Quite sure, m’m,” Marge assured her. “I was with her when she disappeared.”
Elizabeth listened as Marge gave a hurried account of how she’d lost Florrie.
“We’re waiting for the rest of them to come back,” Rita added when she was finished. “We’re hoping she ran into them and is coming back with them.”
“Here they come now,” Marge said, nodding at the door.
The group of women filing in through the door looked hot and weary, though they all managed a smile for Elizabeth. Much to her dismay, however, no one had seen any sign of Florrie, and had no idea she was even missing.
“Now what do we do?” Marge demanded, looking hopefully at Elizabeth.
“I’ll report Florrie’s disappearance to the constables,” Elizabeth said, trying to sound calm. Inside she felt anything but calm. Two missing women and a murdered man on her hands. The whole situation was fast reaching disaster proportions. “I’ll tell George to let the inspector know what’s happening and ask him for help in searching for them. The rest of you start going door to door. Perhaps someone saw or heard something helpful. Report back to me if you hear anything at all. I’ll be at Priscilla’s flat for a while, or you can ring me up at the manor from the police station.”
To Elizabeth’s surprise, Rita didn’t offer one protest at having matters taken out of her hands. In fact, she seemed almost relieved that she was no longer in charge and responsible for her missing members. She did find the nerve to dismiss her crew with a terse, “All right, you lot. You heard her ladyship. Get going!”
The women scrambled to obey, and as they hurried out the door, Rita added, “I’ll ask around the tables here, if you like, Lady Elizabeth.”
“That’s a good idea, Rita. Thank you.” Elizabeth left her to her task, thankful that the dratted woman hadn’t made a scene for once.
It took her no more than a minute or two to reach the police station, and she hopped off her motorcycle with less attention than usual to her skirt, which tended to ride up over her knees in a most unbecoming manner when she was in a rush.
Hurrying into the police station, she was rather annoyed to see George lounging back in his chair, one hand holding a sugary Banbury cake, while the other propped up the daily newspaper.
He dropped the cake onto the newspaper when she entered and hastily got to his feet. “Good afternoon, your ladyship. Nice surprise to see you down here. I was just having a spot of afternoon tea.”
Sid’s voice floated in from the back office. “Caught in the act again, George?”
George scowled. “Shut your mouth, Sid.”
Elizabeth let out her breath in exasperation. “I was rather expecting you to be out searching for Nellie Smith,” she said, a trifle crossly. “She’s been missing for seventeen hours. The Housewives League has been out all morning looking for her.”
“I was establishing headquarters here,” George said huffily, “to direct operations. If anyone should be out there searching, it should be that lazy bugger in the back room.”
“I heard that!” Sid called out. “You told me to stay here and not get in the way.”
George cleared his throat. “I take it the young lady has not been found?”
“Not only has Nellie not been found, but Florrie is now missing.” Elizabeth looked up at the clock above his head. “I would not like another night to pass before we find them.”
George clicked his tongue. “Now how on earth did Florrie go and get lost? Not very considerate of her, when we already have to take care of a murder and one missing person.”
“I’m sure she didn’t lose herself on purpose, George. I need you to notify the inspector right away and ask for volunteers to help search for the women. Up until now the musketeers have been content with causing damage to property, but things have taken a very nasty turn. We have to assume the worst and act accordingly.”
George had been frowning in concentration while she talked, and now he shook his head in confusion. “Act how, your ladyship?”
“Act accordingly!” Sid called out.
Elizabeth laid her hands on the desk and fixed a stern glare on the constable. “Find them, George. As quickly as possible. I don’t care how you go about it. Call in the army if you have to, but find them. Now. Today.”
“Yes, your ladyship. We’ll do our best, I’m sure.”
“I’m relying on you, George. You, too, Sid!”
With their chorus of assurances ringing in her ears, Elizabeth rushed out of the station and climbed aboard her motorcycle. One stop to talk to Fiona, then she would head back to the manor and call Earl. He’d know what to do.
To her great relief, Fiona answered her urgent rapping on the door knocker. She was half afraid that Priscilla’s friend would be out shopping and she’d have to hunt her down.
Fiona was obviously surprised to see her guest, and somewhat reluctantly invited her in.
Elizabeth could understand why when she saw the front room. Magazines and books were strewn around; a slipper lay near the door, its partner flung across the room. A half-empty cup of cold tea sat on the table next to the settee, and next to it a plate of broken biscuits nestled among a mound of crumbs.
“Sorry for the mess, your ladyship,” Fiona muttered, sweeping a dressing gown and pyjamas up in her arms from the settee. “I wasn’t expecting visitors.” Priscilla’s cat, which had been snuggled up in the clothes, uttered a plaintive meow and leapt to the floor.
Hoping the woman would clean up before the new bride returned home, Elizabeth took the chair she was offered. Declining a cup of tea and a biscuit, she opened the conversation with a safe topic.
“The wedding was quite beautiful,” she murmured. “Priscilla looked magnificent.”
Fiona sat down nervously on the edge of the settee. “Yes, she did. Pity about the murder, though. Rather spoilt things, didn’t it. I’m just glad Prissy got away before it happened.”
“Or at least before the body was discovered,” Elizabeth amended.
Fiona seemed startled. “You think it happened while she and Wally were still there?”
“Possibly. After all, the knife was missing before the cake was cut.”
“Oh, yes, I see what you mean. How dreadful. Thank heavens they didn’t know about it then.”
“It was fortunate, yes.” Elizabeth stared hard at her. “You didn’t care for the victim, did you?”
Fiona’s fingers clenched and unclenched. “I hardly knew him.”
“Oh, really? I was under the impression you knew him rather well.” Elizabeth paused, then added deliberately, “You did go to his room at the Tudor Arms with him, didn’t you?”
Fiona’s face flamed, and she took a moment to answer. “May I ask how you know that?”
“You were seen and heard. The point is, you didn’t mention that you knew Brian Sutcliffe when the constable talked to you at the wedding. I can’t help wondering why.”
Fiona shifted uncomfortably on her seat. “I couldn’t say anything in front of Malcolm. He’d have gone berserk. He doesn’t often lose his temper, but when he does, he can be quite nasty.”
“He didn’t know you’d gone to Mr. Sutcliffe’s room?”
“No, he didn’t. We’d been arguing about getting married that night. He’s been bothering me about it a lot lately. I keep telling him I’m not ready to get married again yet, but he won’t take no for an answer. He acts as if he owns me and it’s my duty to marry him. I had enough of that with my first husband. So that night when Brian started flirting with me, just to show Malcolm I wasn’t under his thumb, I flirted back.”
“I imagine Malcolm didn’t like that at all.”
Fiona shrugged. “Malcolm started drinking too much and acting like he didn’t care. Then Brian suggested having a drink in his room, so I went with him. Just to teach Malcolm a lesson. That’s all.”
“I see. Malcolm didn’t see you leave?”
“No, he didn’t. Which made me mad. It was all for nothing.”
“How do you know he didn’t see you leave with Mr. Sutcliffe?”
“Because the next morning at the church he asked me where I went. The last thing he remembered was looking around for me and I wasn’t there. I told him I got disgusted with him and came back here. I didn’t want him making a scene at the wedding.”
Elizabeth nodded. “I can understand that. So you went up to Mr. Sutcliffe’s room.”
Fiona paused, looking down at her hands. “Yes. I regretted it the minute he closed the door behind us. In spite of how Malcolm is, I really love him, and I knew I’d made a big mistake. I told Brian that, and tried to leave, but he got nasty and told me it was too late to change my mind. He grabbed hold of me but I managed to get away and got out the door. He followed me but I told him if he didn’t leave me alone Malcolm would—” She broke off and stared at Elizabeth. “Malcolm never knew about Brian,” she added finally. “I never told him. When I found out Brian was dead, there was no need to tell him.”
“Did you speak to Mr. Sutcliffe at the wedding?”
Fiona shuddered. “No, I didn’t. I stayed as far away from him as I could get.”
“And Malcolm didn’t speak to him?”
“I don’t think Malcolm knew who he was. At least, he didn’t seem to recognize him at the wedding.” Fiona met Elizabeth’s gaze. “If you’re thinking that Malcolm might have had something to do with Brian’s murder, then you’re looking at the wrong person. Malcolm’s not a killer. I’d stake my life on it.”
Elizabeth rose to her feet. “I certainly hope you’re right.” She thanked the woman and left, still not wholly convinced by what she had heard. She couldn’t help thinking there was something she was missing, but she still couldn’t put her finger on it. It annoyed her greatly when that happened.
To her dismay, when she started back to the manor, large drops of rain splattered on her hat. Huge flashes of lightning lit up the sky over the ocean, and the ominous roll of thunder promised a nasty storm on the way.
Elizabeth zoomed up the hill, anxious now to speak with Earl again. Since the musketeers had apparently stolen two Jeeps, perhaps he could spare some men to help search for the culprits and hopefully find the missing women.
Polly was in the office when she went in and looked up with an expression of relief. “We was getting worried about you, m’m. Violet was really put out when you didn’t turn up for lunch.”
Elizabeth smiled. “Don’t worry about Violet, Polly. I’ve had a word with her and she’s forgiven me. Especially when she heard the news about the kidnapping.”
Polly frowned. “You mean about Nellie? But I thought she already knew about that.”
“I’m talking about Florrie Evans.” Elizabeth sat down at her desk and started sorting through the post that Polly had left for her. “She was helping in the search this morning and now she’s missing as well.”
Polly let out a shocked cry. “What’s happening to everyone? Is it the musketeers?”
“We’re not really certain about that.” Elizabeth did her best to reassure the frightened girl. “I’m going to call the American base and ask for help in searching for them. I’m quite sure they’ll be found safe and sound before too long.”
Polly’s eyes were wide and scared. “What if them blokes killed them and buried them somewhere? We might never find them. What if the musketeers are going around killing all the women? None of us will be safe!”
“That’s nonsense,” Elizabeth said firmly. “I’m sure there is a simple explanation for Florrie’s disappearance.”
“But they did take Nellie,” Polly insisted. “Sadie said the Housewives League saw them.”
“Well, yes, but I’m sure they meant no real harm. They’ve never hurt anyone before.”
“There’s always a first time.” Polly sat hugging herself as if she were cold. “I’m scared, m’m. I’m really scared.”
Elizabeth abandoned the bills for the moment. “Polly, why don’t you just go home and be with your mother. It’s almost time to leave anyway, and there’s a bad storm on the way. You’ll feel safer once you are home. I’m sure by the morning we’ll have some news and all this will be over.” She was sure of no such thing, but it felt good to say the words.
Polly looked somewhat relieved. “Oh, can I? I would feel better, I know.”
“Of course. Just leave what you’re doing. It can wait until tomorrow.”
She waited for Polly to leave the room, then reached for the telephone. She badly needed to talk to Earl. Not only to ask for his help, but just to hear his voice. His quiet strength always seemed to steady her in times of turbulence, and she needed him now as she never had before.
She had to wait for some time before the ringing was answered at the base. The stern voice that spoke to her informed her that Major Monroe was unavailable. With a deepening feeling of dread, she replaced the receiver. How she hated those words and what they conveyed. Now she had to suffer another night of torment before she knew he was safe again. What’s more, at least another night would pass before she could ask for his help in finding Florrie and Nellie. She could only hope it wouldn’t be too late.
Polly ran down the steps and hurried around the corner to the stables where she had left her bicycle. She wasn’t going to feel safe until she was in her own bedroom, surrounded by all her pictures of her favorite film stars on the walls. How she wished Marlene would come home. She missed her sister more than she ever thought she would.