Hasty Death by Marion Chesney Page A

in her direction?
    ‘My dear,’ said Lady Polly, to her daughter over the floating island pudding, ‘I want you to visit an old friend of mine who is poorly. I would like you to go tomorrow
morning.’
    ‘Certainly.’
    ‘Humphrey will go with you. Daisy may stay here. I have certain chores I wish her to perform.’
    Rose felt so guilty at disappointing her parents that she would have agreed to pretty much anything.
    Next morning, Daisy stood at the window and watched Rose and Humphrey being taken away in the earl’s carriage. Lady Polly summoned her.
    ‘I want you to pack up my daughter’s clothes and things. She will be staying with this friend of mine for a couple of months.’
    ‘But she said nothing of it to me!’ exclaimed Daisy.
    ‘Your services are no longer required. We will give you a good settlement. You have two days to pack up and leave.’
    Daisy opened her mouth to howl a protest. Something very odd was going on here. Rose’s parting words had been: ‘I suppose I shall be back sometime in the afternoon. I hope this old
lady is not a bore.’
    So Daisy said meekly, ‘As you wish, my lady.’
    ‘You are a good girl,’ said the countess, relieved that there were no protests. ‘But you will be more at home with your own kind. You are not one of us and never will
be.’
    Daisy left and went round to the mews and waited and waited for the earl’s carriage to return.
    At last, she saw it turning into the mews.
    As the coachman, John Silver, descended, Daisy went up to him and asked, ‘Where is my lady?’
    ‘Gone into the country.’
    ‘Where?’
    ‘Can’t say.’ He turned away.
    Daisy turned to the two footmen who were getting down from the backstrap. Charles, the head footman, she knew did not approve of her, but Jim, the second footman, had a soft spot for her.
    She walked away, determined to get Jim on his own.
    She caught him later as he was carrying logs up to the drawing-room. ‘Jim,’ she hissed, ‘where’s my lady? What’s going on?’
    ‘Told not to breathe a word to you or anyone or I’ll get the sack.’
    ‘Please, Jim. The countess has sent me packing and my lady would never let that happen. Please, Jim.’
    ‘All right. But I never told you nothing, mind. Wait till I make up the fire.’
    Daisy waited in a fever of impatience until he came out again. ‘In here,’ said Jim, opening the door of the library. He closed the door behind them and spoke rapidly in a low voice.
‘We took her out to a place outside Barnet. It’s called The Grange, about two miles out on the North Road. It was a creepy place, with the windows all barred.
    ‘There was a chap with white hair waiting on the step and Humphrey called him Dr McWhirter.
    ‘He and Humphrey led her inside. After ten minutes or so, Humphrey comes out. She says an odd thing, half to herself. She says, “Well, that’s settled madam’s
hash.”’
    Daisy went to her room and dressed in a warm dress and cloak, a felt hat and boots. She went downstairs and slipped out of the house. She walked through Eaton Square and then through Sloane
Square and along the King’s Road to Water Street to Harry’s address. She hoped she would find him at home. She did not want to go to his office, feeling sure that Miss Jubbles would try
to stop her from seeing him.
    Becket opened the door to her and Daisy fell into his arms and burst into tears. Harry came out of his front parlour. ‘What’s the matter?’ he asked.
    ‘Don’t know, sir,’ said Becket.
    ‘Bring her in here and bring brandy.’
    Once she had recovered and taken a gulp of brandy, Daisy told them the little she knew.
    Harry listened in grim silence. Then he said, ‘Let’s see what Kerridge knows about this place.’
    He phoned Scotland Yard and was put through to the detective superintendent immediately. Harry told him what had happened to Rose, and then asked, ‘Do you know anything about this place,
The Grange?’
    ‘Do I ever,’ sighed Kerridge. ‘I