seeing the place for the first time.
“Let the staff go a week ago now,” he said. “I think they were stealing from us.”
“I see.”
“I suppose I’ll have to find someone to come in and clean, though, won’t I?”
“That might not be a bad idea.”
“Well, have a seat, if you like.” He waved a limp hand in the direction of the other two chairs. Hatty examined the nearest one and flicked a few crumbs away before sitting down. “Got no tea and no coffee, but if you want gin I have that. Maybe some rye. And there’s milk, I think, but I wouldn’t touch that if I were you. Smelled a bit off yesterday, and I doubt it’s got better overnight.”
“I’m fine,” Hatty said. “Thank you.”
“So, you thought maybe Joseph had gone on holiday and forgotten to tell me,” Hargreave said. “Is that it? Forgot to tell Mr Plumm, too, hadn’t he? Just shimmered off to the sea and not a care in the world, eh?”
“I thought . . .” Hatty said. She cleared her throat and started again. “Mr Hammersmith suggested I come have a look round here.”
“Ah. So Hammersmith’s handling the likely stuff and leaving the odd tidbits for you.”
“Something like that.”
“Has he got any clues yet? No, I suppose not, or you wouldn’t be nosing round here, where you’re not needed, would you?”
Hatty smiled. “You say you’ve spoken to Mr Plumm?”
“Told him I’d be forced to take legal action if he sacked Joseph. My brother’s not been gone so very long, has he? No reason to replace him just yet. Let the detective do his work, I say. And he says back to me that the store’s got work of their own needs to be done and no worker to do it, has they? And I say, ‘Well then, you’ll be hearing from my solicitor unless you’re willing to give the matter more time to sort itself.’ And Plumm says, ‘Very well.’ Just like that. ‘Very well, Dr Hargreave, I’ve got solicitors of my own, don’t you know?’ And before I have a chance to say anything else, the door’s hitting me on the backside and I’m out in the street without so much as a fare-thee-well. Is that right? Does that sound right to you?”
“It sounds rather uncaring,” Hatty said. “I’m sorry.”
Hargreave took a small shuddering breath and smacked his lips and looked down at the book on the arm of his chair. He frowned and turned it over so that Hatty could no longer see the title. “I might eat,” he said. “Would you care for anything? I think I’ve got half a pudding, maybe the butt of a roast. Almost certainly there’s a cheese, if it hasn’t turned.”
Hatty hesitated. She was hungry, but suspicious of anything that might be found in Hargreave’s pantry. Still, she wanted to take a look round the place, and a detective’s work wasn’t always meant to be easy, was it? “Yes, please,” she said.
“Well, come along, then, and let us see what there is to see.” He led the way through a door at the back of the room, which Hatty discovered led to a dining room. The table was heaped with financial papers. Through another door and she found herself in a grubby kitchen. Food-encrusted crockery filled the basin and every surfacein the room was covered with butcher’s paper, shriveled ends of sausages, puddles of beer and gin and clotted cream, half an apple, brown and withered, a bowl with something that had formed a skin, a knife embedded upright in a hard barm cake. A cloud of insects, tiny pinpricks in the air, hovered over some sort of gelatinous substance on the wall. Hatty’s heart sank.
“This isn’t all my own mess,” Hargreave said. He seemed embarrassed, which Hatty took as a good sign. It was the sort of room that called for embarrassment. “As I say, we let the servants go, and Joseph and I forgot to clean up after ourselves last weekend. Besides, there’s dishes here I know we didn’t use. They must have snuck back in here while we were in the city and helped themselves to our provisions.”
“Let the staff go a week ago now,” he said. “I think they were stealing from us.”
“I see.”
“I suppose I’ll have to find someone to come in and clean, though, won’t I?”
“That might not be a bad idea.”
“Well, have a seat, if you like.” He waved a limp hand in the direction of the other two chairs. Hatty examined the nearest one and flicked a few crumbs away before sitting down. “Got no tea and no coffee, but if you want gin I have that. Maybe some rye. And there’s milk, I think, but I wouldn’t touch that if I were you. Smelled a bit off yesterday, and I doubt it’s got better overnight.”
“I’m fine,” Hatty said. “Thank you.”
“So, you thought maybe Joseph had gone on holiday and forgotten to tell me,” Hargreave said. “Is that it? Forgot to tell Mr Plumm, too, hadn’t he? Just shimmered off to the sea and not a care in the world, eh?”
“I thought . . .” Hatty said. She cleared her throat and started again. “Mr Hammersmith suggested I come have a look round here.”
“Ah. So Hammersmith’s handling the likely stuff and leaving the odd tidbits for you.”
“Something like that.”
“Has he got any clues yet? No, I suppose not, or you wouldn’t be nosing round here, where you’re not needed, would you?”
Hatty smiled. “You say you’ve spoken to Mr Plumm?”
“Told him I’d be forced to take legal action if he sacked Joseph. My brother’s not been gone so very long, has he? No reason to replace him just yet. Let the detective do his work, I say. And he says back to me that the store’s got work of their own needs to be done and no worker to do it, has they? And I say, ‘Well then, you’ll be hearing from my solicitor unless you’re willing to give the matter more time to sort itself.’ And Plumm says, ‘Very well.’ Just like that. ‘Very well, Dr Hargreave, I’ve got solicitors of my own, don’t you know?’ And before I have a chance to say anything else, the door’s hitting me on the backside and I’m out in the street without so much as a fare-thee-well. Is that right? Does that sound right to you?”
“It sounds rather uncaring,” Hatty said. “I’m sorry.”
Hargreave took a small shuddering breath and smacked his lips and looked down at the book on the arm of his chair. He frowned and turned it over so that Hatty could no longer see the title. “I might eat,” he said. “Would you care for anything? I think I’ve got half a pudding, maybe the butt of a roast. Almost certainly there’s a cheese, if it hasn’t turned.”
Hatty hesitated. She was hungry, but suspicious of anything that might be found in Hargreave’s pantry. Still, she wanted to take a look round the place, and a detective’s work wasn’t always meant to be easy, was it? “Yes, please,” she said.
“Well, come along, then, and let us see what there is to see.” He led the way through a door at the back of the room, which Hatty discovered led to a dining room. The table was heaped with financial papers. Through another door and she found herself in a grubby kitchen. Food-encrusted crockery filled the basin and every surfacein the room was covered with butcher’s paper, shriveled ends of sausages, puddles of beer and gin and clotted cream, half an apple, brown and withered, a bowl with something that had formed a skin, a knife embedded upright in a hard barm cake. A cloud of insects, tiny pinpricks in the air, hovered over some sort of gelatinous substance on the wall. Hatty’s heart sank.
“This isn’t all my own mess,” Hargreave said. He seemed embarrassed, which Hatty took as a good sign. It was the sort of room that called for embarrassment. “As I say, we let the servants go, and Joseph and I forgot to clean up after ourselves last weekend. Besides, there’s dishes here I know we didn’t use. They must have snuck back in here while we were in the city and helped themselves to our provisions.”
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