I can do to help I shall.”
Clara considered for a moment.
“Are you up for a train ride?”
“Always. I haven’t been on a
train since they shipped me home, and that wasn’t exactly a joyful ride.”
“Then I’ll inform Annie and
tomorrow we will be up early and heading for Eastbourne.”
Chapter Nine
It took Clara a late evening visit to Mrs Wilton, and
lots of words of comfort that she was not about to face the hangman, to
discover Mrs Greengage’s old address in Eastbourne. It was fortunate that Mrs
Wilton had such a nose for details and gossip. At least it saved having to
disturb the grieving widower, though Clara was contemplating another
conversation with him anyway as soon as she could.
The trains were back running
on their old timetables since the war, so there was little difficulty getting
tickets for Eastbourne. Though getting Tommy in his cumbersome wheelchair on
the train was another matter. The step into the carriage and the narrow doorway
made it seem an impossible task before the train pulled out of the station.
Only the assistance of a railway porter saved the day. Clearly it was not the
first wheelchair he had loaded, because as soon as Tommy was aboard he found
some heavy wooden blocks to put in front of the wheels of the chair to prevent
it rolling forward.
Clara breathed a sigh of
relief as she settled into a horse-hair padded seat. Annie perched opposite
her.
“I made egg sandwiches.” She
said as a whistle rang out and the train heaved into motion, “For when we get
peckish.”
Annie was still a tad unclear
on the purpose for their trip and imagined it was something to pull Tommy out
of his mood. She had organised a luncheon like they were going on a picnic and
was wearing her best hat. Clara thought it was perhaps time to properly explain
their objective.
“Annie, you know all this
business about Mrs Greengage?”
“That’s all anyone talks
about.” Annie nodded.
“Well, I am doing a little bit
of my own detective work into the case, for the sake of…” How to refer to Mrs
Wilton discreetly? “…a friend.”
“What she means Annie is that
we are going to a place called Oakham Avenue in Eastbourne to be terribly nosy
and ask lots of questions about the deceased.” Tommy butted in.
“This is not about being nosy,
this is proper detective work and very important. So you mustn’t tell a soul
Annie.”
Annie was looking a little
bewildered.
“If it makes you feel better
Annie the police know all about what I am doing.” Clara bent the truth only
slightly.
“So what is important about
Oakham Avenue?” The maid asked.
“Mrs Greengage used to live
there.” Tommy elaborated, “And Clara is after some background information.”
“Background?” Clara glanced at
him.
“Yes, the stuff in a person’s
past. It was a term used in that detective book.”
“So things like Mr Greengage
being in the music halls before the war?” Annie said.
They both looked at her.
“Where did you hear that?”
“Dr Macpherson’s tweenie maid.
She does occasional outside work including weekly cleaning at the Greengages’
house. She was dusting the writing desk once and it fell open, accidental
like.”
“Of course.” Tommy nodded
insincerely.
“Well, inside were all these
old posters from music halls and Mr Greengage was on them. Though looking all
done up for the stage, o’ course. The posters claimed he was very good. Used to
sing and do the ven-tilly-thing, where someone throws their voice.”
A cog slipped into place in
Clara’s mind. The strange powers Augustus displayed now made sense. But it
opened another thought as well. If a maid could walk in and find theatre
posters in the writing desk, then she could also find those riddles.
“What is this maid’s name?”
“Alice.” Annie shrugged,
“That’s all I know her by.”
It wasn’t much but if Clara
could discover whether Alice had been at the house on the day of the murder it
might just
Clara considered for a moment.
“Are you up for a train ride?”
“Always. I haven’t been on a
train since they shipped me home, and that wasn’t exactly a joyful ride.”
“Then I’ll inform Annie and
tomorrow we will be up early and heading for Eastbourne.”
Chapter Nine
It took Clara a late evening visit to Mrs Wilton, and
lots of words of comfort that she was not about to face the hangman, to
discover Mrs Greengage’s old address in Eastbourne. It was fortunate that Mrs
Wilton had such a nose for details and gossip. At least it saved having to
disturb the grieving widower, though Clara was contemplating another
conversation with him anyway as soon as she could.
The trains were back running
on their old timetables since the war, so there was little difficulty getting
tickets for Eastbourne. Though getting Tommy in his cumbersome wheelchair on
the train was another matter. The step into the carriage and the narrow doorway
made it seem an impossible task before the train pulled out of the station.
Only the assistance of a railway porter saved the day. Clearly it was not the
first wheelchair he had loaded, because as soon as Tommy was aboard he found
some heavy wooden blocks to put in front of the wheels of the chair to prevent
it rolling forward.
Clara breathed a sigh of
relief as she settled into a horse-hair padded seat. Annie perched opposite
her.
“I made egg sandwiches.” She
said as a whistle rang out and the train heaved into motion, “For when we get
peckish.”
Annie was still a tad unclear
on the purpose for their trip and imagined it was something to pull Tommy out
of his mood. She had organised a luncheon like they were going on a picnic and
was wearing her best hat. Clara thought it was perhaps time to properly explain
their objective.
“Annie, you know all this
business about Mrs Greengage?”
“That’s all anyone talks
about.” Annie nodded.
“Well, I am doing a little bit
of my own detective work into the case, for the sake of…” How to refer to Mrs
Wilton discreetly? “…a friend.”
“What she means Annie is that
we are going to a place called Oakham Avenue in Eastbourne to be terribly nosy
and ask lots of questions about the deceased.” Tommy butted in.
“This is not about being nosy,
this is proper detective work and very important. So you mustn’t tell a soul
Annie.”
Annie was looking a little
bewildered.
“If it makes you feel better
Annie the police know all about what I am doing.” Clara bent the truth only
slightly.
“So what is important about
Oakham Avenue?” The maid asked.
“Mrs Greengage used to live
there.” Tommy elaborated, “And Clara is after some background information.”
“Background?” Clara glanced at
him.
“Yes, the stuff in a person’s
past. It was a term used in that detective book.”
“So things like Mr Greengage
being in the music halls before the war?” Annie said.
They both looked at her.
“Where did you hear that?”
“Dr Macpherson’s tweenie maid.
She does occasional outside work including weekly cleaning at the Greengages’
house. She was dusting the writing desk once and it fell open, accidental
like.”
“Of course.” Tommy nodded
insincerely.
“Well, inside were all these
old posters from music halls and Mr Greengage was on them. Though looking all
done up for the stage, o’ course. The posters claimed he was very good. Used to
sing and do the ven-tilly-thing, where someone throws their voice.”
A cog slipped into place in
Clara’s mind. The strange powers Augustus displayed now made sense. But it
opened another thought as well. If a maid could walk in and find theatre
posters in the writing desk, then she could also find those riddles.
“What is this maid’s name?”
“Alice.” Annie shrugged,
“That’s all I know her by.”
It wasn’t much but if Clara
could discover whether Alice had been at the house on the day of the murder it
might just
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