Kate Kingsbury - An Unmentional Murder

By the time the long summer twilight finally gave way to dusky night, Martin still hadn’t returned to the Manor House. Just to be sure, Violet sent Polly and Sadie on another extensive hunt throughout the mansion, until everyone was convinced the elderly gentleman was not inside.

Greatly worried, Elizabeth rang the police constable at home, since the police station had closed its doors several hours ago. Judging by P.C. George Dalrymple’s tone, he’d been woken up from a deep sleep, for which Elizabeth profusely apologized.

“You know I wouldn’t disturb you if I wasn’t certain these are dire circumstances,” she assured him, after she’d recounted all the efforts they’d made to find Martin. “I’m afraid he’s wandering around in the woods somewhere, though why he would be there in the first place I can’t imagine.”

“Well, you know the old boy’s a bit dotty, your ladyship,” George said, still sounding irritable. “I’m just surprised he hasn’t wandered off before this. He’ll turn up in the morning as bold as brass, you’ll see.”

“No one,” Elizabeth said with emphasis, “is going to get any sleep while Martin is out there somewhere in the dark, alone and probably lost and confused. It’s damp out there at night. He could get pneumonia and at his age that could very well be the death of him.”

Standing behind her in the kitchen, Violet clicked her tongue in dismay. Ignoring the interruption, Elizabeth said firmly, “I waited until I was certain Martin was officially missing. I must insist that we send out a search party immediately. My staff and I will search the woods adjoining the estate. I suggest you round up as many volunteers as you can find and organize them to search the rest of the area.”

George’s resigned voice echoed wearily down the line. “Very well, your ladyship. I’ll see what I can do.”

“Right away, George.”

“Yes, m’m. Right away it is.”

Elizabeth hung up the phone, trying to feel reassured. Violet sat at the table, her arms crossed over her flat chest. Huddled in front of the stove, Polly’s and Sadie’s faces were strained with worry.

“I know it’s late,” Elizabeth said, appealing hopefully to the girls, “and I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t think-”

“It’s all right, m’m,” Sadie butted in. “Me and Polly would love to help look for him, wouldn’t we, Pol?”

“ ’Course we will, m’m. I couldn’t sleep not knowing what had happened to Martin.”

“Me neither,” Sadie declared. “He’s a funny old bloke and he’s got a screw or two missing and I know he calls me names and everything but I know he’d do the same for me if it was the other way around.”

Elizabeth seriously doubted that, but she nodded in agreement anyway. “Good. I’m going to take the motorcycle and search the lanes. I wonder if you two wouldn’t mind searching the woods?”

Polly looked scared but she lifted her chin and linked her arm through Sadie’s. “If Martin is in the woods, we’ll find him,” she said stoutly.

“We’ll take torches with us,” Sadie added.

Polly gasped. “What about the blackout?”

“Nobody’ll see the lights in the woods, silly. Besides, it’s getting on for midnight. Who’s going to be walking around this late at night?”

“Just be careful,” Elizabeth told them. “I don’t want you two getting into any trouble.”

“You can’t ride that motorcycle in the dark,” Violet said. “Without lights you won’t see a thing.”

“There’s enough moonlight for me to see the road,” Elizabeth assured her.

Violet got to her feet. “I’m coming with you. You’ll need your eyes to watch the road. I can watch out for any sign of Martin.”

Elizabeth regarded her warily. “You’d have to ride in the sidecar.”

Violet flinched, but reached for the maroon knitted cardigan she always left hanging behind the door. “While we’re standing around talking about it, we could be out there looking.”

“Come on, Pol,” Sadie said, dragging Polly to the door. “Let’s get cracking. The sooner we find him the sooner we can get to bed.” They disappeared into the hallway, earning Elizabeth’s heartfelt gratitude.

A few minutes later she and Violet were on their way down the shadowy driveway, crawling along at a snail’s pace to peer into the trees that lined the long, winding path. Turning into the lane, Elizabeth sent up yet another silent prayer. First Earl, now Martin. Please, please, let them at least find one of them safe and sound.

For two hours they crawled down lanes and byways, stopping every now and then to peer over gates and hedges, circling the village twice before finally having to admit defeat. Hampered by the darkness, it was impossible to see farther than a few yards in the dense undergrowth that lined the fields and downs, and even Violet, who never gave up on anything, suggested they get some sleep and continue the search in the morning.

In a last desperate measure, Elizabeth pulled up on the coast road and cut the engine. “If we both yell together,” she told Violet, “Martin might hear us and call out. Our voices will carry from up here. If he’s in the woods, maybe the girls will hear him.”

“If they’re still out here,” Violet grumbled. “It’s got to be long after midnight.”

“It’s worth a try.” Elizabeth climbed off the saddle and went to the edge of the road. Facing the woods, she put both hands to her mouth. “On three,” she said. “Both together. One, two, three… Martin! ”

Their combined voices echoed across the downs, then faded away. The only sound that answered them was a scuffling in the deep grass a few yards away, and the steady clip-clop of a horse’s hooves off in the distance.

“One more time,” Elizabeth said, cupping her mouth once more. “One, two, three… Martin! ”

Violet’s voice cracked on the shout, and Elizabeth’s throat felt raw with the effort of shrieking her butler’s name. “All right,” she said wearily. “I suppose we shall have to just wait until daylight and look for him then.”

“Let’s just hope he has enough sense to find somewhere warm to sleep,” Violet muttered.

Elizabeth climbed back on the motorcycle, knowing full well that neither of them would sleep comfortably in their beds knowing Martin was out there somewhere in the cold, damp black of night, alone and more than likely feeling abandoned.

Sadie was already asleep in her room when they got back to the Manor House. Violet went to peek in Martin’s room just in case he’d returned, but she came back to the kitchen with a long face that dashed Elizabeth’s hopes.

As she expected, Elizabeth tossed and turned the rest of the night, slipping in and out of sleep until the twittering sparrows finally got her out of bed at the break of dawn. All night long she’d listened for the shrill ring of the telephone, not really sure if she was waiting to hear about Martin, or if her thoughts were more concerned with the long silence from Earl.

Much to her surprise, Violet was already up and pottering about the kitchen when Elizabeth entered it some time later. It was not yet six o’clock, but the sun streamed through the windows and bathed the kitchen in a warm glow.

While her housekeeper poured her a steaming cup of tea, Elizabeth rang George’s house again. This time his wife answered.

“He’s gone down to the station early, your ladyship,” Millie said. “He’s really worried about poor Mr. Chezzlewit. We were all out looking for him last night until it got too dark to see.”

“I appreciate all your efforts,” Elizabeth said, feeling ridiculously close to tears. “I just can’t think where he could be.”