Page 54 of The Meriwell Legacy
“At any time between eight o’clock this morning and when luncheon was served,” Constance said, “did any of you notice any gentleman walking about the upstairs corridors—the west wing and family wing in particular? Or even simply going upstairs?”
But that, too, was met with shaking heads and a “No, ma’am.”
Penelope met Constance’s eyes briefly, then changed direction. “Have any of you seen a sheaf of letters tied with yellow ribbon in any of the gentlemen’s rooms?”
After another exchange of looks and many heads shaking, the senior maid concluded, “No, ma’am.”
Constance shared a resigned look with Penelope; it had been a long shot to hope the murderer had left the letters lying about before he’d slipped them into Percy’s tallboy drawer. Then, recalling how literal staff sometimes were when being questioned by their betters, she looked at the maids and asked, “Did anyone see a gentleman carrying such a bundle of letters?” More shaking of heads. “No sighting of such a bundle of letters tied with yellow ribbon at all?”
One of the upstairs maids shifted. When Constance and Penelope focused on her, she offered, “If you mean Miss Johnson’s letters, then I did see them in her room.”
“Yes, those are the letters we’re interested in.” Penelope sat straighter. “When did you see them?”
The maid shot a look at Mrs. Carnaby; after the housekeeper nodded encouragingly, the maid replied, “I was assigned to help Mrs. Cleary and Miss Johnson, ma’am. She had the letters out a few times when I was in the room—that would be on Sunday evening and again on Monday afternoon—just reading or looking at them, but she always tucked them away in her hatbox, the one she kept on top of the armoire.”
“Did Mrs. Cleary know about the letters?” Constance asked.
The maid frowned. After a moment of inner debate, she said, “I can’t be sure, ma’am, but she was there on the Sunday evening when both ladies were dressing for dinner, and Miss Johnson had the letters out then, so Mrs. Cleary would most likely have noticed them, but I can’t say that she ever read them, ma’am.”
“I see.” Constance paused, then asked, “Did you notice what Miss Johnson was wearing on the chain around her neck?”
The maid nodded. “A ring it was, ma’am. Not sure what it meant to her, but she kept it hidden under her bodice, most times. I only saw it when I was helping her into or out of her gowns.”
“Do you think Mrs. Cleary knew about the ring?” Penelope asked.
The maid thought, but this time shook her head. “I shouldn’t think so, ma’am. Miss Johnson used the dressing screen, so unless she showed Mrs. Cleary the ring deliberate-like, I don’t think Mrs. Cleary would have known anything about it.”
Penelope suppressed a grimace. “Thank you.” She exchanged a glance with Constance, then surveyed the maids once again. “While we have you all here, is there anything any of you noticed about Mrs. Cleary—anything at all out of the ordinary? Anything that struck you as even mildly odd.”
“Anything you can tell us might be helpful,” Constance added, “no matter how trivial it may seem. As both ladies are dead and we’re trying to catch their murderer, this is not the time to hold your tongue.”
“Just so,” Mrs. Carnaby agreed.
Several elbows nudged one of the younger maids. Blushing furiously, she darted a glance at Mrs. Carnaby, then cleared her throat and timidly offered, “On Monday night…well, more like early Tuesday morning, I was out the back, in the kitchen garden, talking with Ben—he’s one of the grooms.”
Penelope nodded encouragingly. “That was the night Miss Johnson was killed.”
“Aye.” The maid’s voice gained in strength. “I was on my way back to the house when I saw Mrs. Cleary on the terrace. Just standing there, looking out, she was. She didn’t do anything that I saw.”
“Where on the terrace, exactly?” Penelope asked.
“Right at the end, ma’am, where the balustrade goes across.” The maid waved to the east side of the house. “She was standing out from the wall in the corner of the balustrade. She looked to be just taking the air.”
A frown had formed in Constance’s eyes. “I can’t recall—was there moonlight that night? You said you saw Mrs. Cleary…”
“Oh no, ma’am—it wasn’t bright at all. The moon wasn’t anywhere near full. But it was a clear night, and I could see her…” The maid tipped her head, clearly reviewing what she’d seen. “Well, I didn’t know it was her then, of course, but I could see it was a dark-haired lady standing there, looking out. I could make out that much easily enough.”
Constance’s eyes lit, and she nodded graciously to the maid. “Thank you.” When Constance glanced Penelope’s way, brows arched, asking if she had more questions, Penelope shook her head. Constance turned and graciously thanked Mrs. Carnaby and the maids for their time and their help.
Sensing a rising impatience in Constance, Penelope fell in with her co-investigator’s transparent wish to end the interview. They waited while Mrs. Carnaby dismissed her staff, then followed her from the room.
Stepping into the corridor leading to the servants’ hall, they heard the rumble of male voices; obviously Stokes, Barnaby, and Percy were still questioning the male staff.
Constance’s hand closed on Penelope’s wrist, and Constance halted, then she met Penelope’s eyes and tipped her head toward the rear door.
When Penelope arched her brows in query, Constance said, “I know we’ll be early to the oak, but unless you can think of something else to pursue, there’s a scenario I’d like to go over with you—away from here.”
Penelope inclined her head. “I can’t think of anything worth our while. A juicy scenario sounds promising—and it was pleasant under that oak.”
