Barbara Cleverly - Strange Images of Death

Joe was alarmed to see Madame Dalbert turn pale and sink down on to a stool, clutching her bosom. He hurried to counter the effect of his bald statement: ‘I speak of the little one-Marius. There is some evidence that he got tired of the games and was heard to say he was going off home to stay with his grandmother. Is this likely, do you think?’

The cook found her voice again. ‘Oh, thank God for that! Ouf! You gave me quite a turn! Yes, of course it’s likely. Marius! He’s done it before. He knows the way home blindfold. Everyone in the village knows him. He’s always wandering about. He’ll be all right. Now-if you’d said René had gone off, I’d really have been worried!’ She got to her feet again and resumed her imperious stance. Back in control. ‘Thank you for your concern, but I’m sure it’s not necessary. Marius slipped in here to see me at about four o’clock. He was a bit grumpy. They quarrel a lot, the boys. I listened to him and gave him some bread and chocolate and a glass of milk and he cheered up. I told him he could go and see his granny if he wanted to. It’s hard for him being the youngest and sometimes it’s best for him to have some time to himself. No harm done. But thank you, sir … miss … for thinking of warning me. And miss-’ she turned now towards Dorcas with a look that was very nearly tender, ‘thank you especially for paying attention to them. Little Marius talks about you all the time since you got here.’

She wiped a hand on her pinny and tentatively held it out to Dorcas.

In one of the uninhibited rushes of emotion Joe had come to recognize and dread in Dorcas, the girl ignored the extended hand, stepped forward and wrapped her arms around the dusty little figure. They hugged each other in relief for a moment.

He walked back to the dormitory and distributed the illicit sweets he’d scooped up in the pantry as they passed through. ‘All’s well, chaps!’ he announced. ‘Marius’s mother was aware of the situation. Marius has indeed gone to ground at Gran’s. I’m giving my torch to Dorcas so if there’s any problem in the night, you’ll be able to shed some light on it. And I’m just across the corridor. See you all in the morning! Night night! Oh, just one word, Dorcas, if you wouldn’t mind …’

She responded to his raised eyebrows correctly and came to join him in the corridor.

‘Estelle,’ he whispered. ‘I’m very concerned for her. Would you mind awfully going into the women’s dorm and asking if she’s back yet? If not, see if you can find out where they think she might be.’ Dorcas groaned. ‘Yes, I would mind. Awfully. I’m not going in there! They’re all dressing for dinner-I’d be in the way. You’ve seen what they’re like. And they’re on their best behaviour when you’re around. They’ll rag me! Do I have to? … Oh, all right then … but if I have to kill one of those Russian girls it’ll be all your fault.’

She went in, leaving the door open, and Joe skulked in some discomfort outside by the jamb. Judging by the noise, they were all still in there, quarrelling about stolen stockings and yelling at each other to be quiet in several languages. Dorcas ignored the cat calls and suggestions that she go straight back into the crèche and, cleverly, Joe thought, directed her question to the sensible Jane Makepeace.

‘Miss Makepeace, can you help me?’ he heard Dorcas say.

‘Not really a good time, darling. I’m a bit behind … Look, pass me that stocking from the radiator, will you?

‘I’m looking for Estelle. She’s disappeared,’ Dorcas persisted.

And Jane replied, ‘Well, this here’s her bed next to mine and, you see, she’s not in it or on it or in the vicinity of it. Can’t say I’ve seen her lately. Sorry, I’m not much help.’

‘No, you aren’t, are you?’ Cecily’s voice. ‘Dorcas has been moved up to the top table now-I think we should give her credit for a little grown-up understanding, don’t you? Listen, my dear-the truth is, Estelle doesn’t often sleep in her own bed. She wasn’t here last night either. She’s most probably spent the afternoon with one of the chaps and she’ll spend the night with him. If he has a room of his own. If he hasn’t they’ll find one somewhere without too much trouble. You could try her boyfriend Nathan-he’s got a room to himself in the north tower where he messes about with his chemistry set.’

A lazy Russian voice drawled: ‘Or, failing that, my darling, you could always ask your father.’

The response was a blend of titters and shocked protests.

‘You’d do better,’ Cecily went on, ‘to check your uncle -if that’s what he is. Oh, come on now! We all saw it! She was knocked sideways the moment he came in. Alley cat! She was on the prowl before he’d sat down to lunch! And I noticed-we all did-that she left the dining room on his arm last night. Wearing that little blue Worth number. She doesn’t put that on for cocoa in the dorm with us! And none of the men have the sense to resist her. No, that’s what I’d do-nip across the corridor and see what the Law’s got in its long arms.’

‘Cecily, you have a mind like a sewer!’ Jane Makepeace again. ‘Remind me to pass you the name of a good alienist in London. I really think you need the psychiatric equivalent of a flue-brush passed between your ears … or a good dose of liver salts. Why are you always so beastly to the girl? She means well.’

‘I can’t stand to breathe the same air as that tart!’ Cecily’s voice was vicious and uncontrolled. ‘She’s unhealthy! Goodness knows what we might catch from her!’

The room went silent, signalling that she’d gone too far.

The silence was broken by Dorcas. Stiff but polite, she spoke to the room: ‘A child is missing. Commander Sandilands is in the kitchens at this moment interviewing the cook about the disappearance of her son. But thank you all for your help and advice. You’ve told me more than you know.’

‘The cook’s son? Well, why didn’t you say?’ Jane Makepeace exclaimed. ‘I can tell you where they both were … oh, between tea and the children’s supper time, if that’s any use?’

‘Please, I’d very much like to hear.’

‘I’d gone down to take a look at Frederick dashing away at his fresco outside in the gallery. I heard Estelle call out and looked up. She was over by the gateway and she’d clearly just caught one of the children-the smallest one-by the hand. Rounding them up for their evening meal, I thought. In so far as I gave it any thought. It was just the usual routine. So it must have been just before six. You only have scurrilous things to say about Estelle, Cecily, but she does more than her bit with those little ones. Do any of us even know their names? I don’t. So I can’t name the boy she was with. Clogs. Green shirt. She was bending over, talking to him. Sensible girl, I thought. Checking up. If I had to speculate, I’d say the child was going home to the village. They do sometimes. Or perhaps he’d been sent home. Had he been naughty?’

‘Did you see Estelle going out over the drawbridge?’

‘No. But I expect she did. Well, where else would she go? When I looked up again, they’d disappeared. Good girl, I thought-she’s gone down to the village with him. She was wearing that short red dress she had on at breakfast time and I don’t see it hanging up. Oh, come to think of it-there was something strange about her … she was carrying that little brown attaché case of hers. No room in that for more than a change of knickers and a toothbrush so she wasn’t going away for good. So, she’s probably stayed on down there in town. There are places to stay, I think. They say the inn’s pretty good.’

‘Ah! Some village Romeo in the offing, do you suppose?’ ventured someone.