A Death for a Cause (11 page)

‘I take it you have never visited a mill?' asked Constance. Martha reddened further. ‘Neither have I,' continued Constance, ‘but my husband has been called to attend accidents at one and the stories he has told me would make your blood run cold if I were to repeat them.'

‘Sounds to me like you lot are of more a load of Bolsheviks than women seeking enfranchisement!' said Angela from the corner, where she retreated to.

‘What about you, coppers' nark?' asked Abigail, but she seemed less angry and more curious.

‘I confess I am here by mistake. I foolishly failed to realise my employer's intent, nor why she had dressed me in this fashion.' I looked around at seven pairs of eyes that now seemed a lot less friendly. ‘However, I do support the right of women to have the vote. I believe that many women, like Mary, Eunice, Jasmine, and Constance's daughter, are capable of great intellectual feats and that we are denied our rightful place in what we call civilised society.'

‘And exactly how do you support the cause?' asked Abigail.

‘I am forthright in my views,' I said.

‘But you don't march or give public speeches?'

I shook my head. ‘Until today those opportunities have been denied to me. Generally we live quite quietly in the country.'

‘Well that's got us a lot further forward, hasn't it?' said Angela sarcastically.

I did not respond, but in my heart I agreed with her. I felt we had come no nearer to finding who was the murderess in our midst and the thought of spending another night in this cell filled me with horror.

²⁹
That is to say, the recipient of the glance could do with a jolly good slap.

Chapter Sixteen

Fitzroy Frets

It is difficult to tell the time when incarcerated. Time stretches and overfills one's attention. After the bout of exchanges between us, the women again lapsed into silence. Eunice and Jasmine whispered quietly to one another from time to time. And when the guard came past us at what I imagined was luncheon time to inflict upon us yet more stale bread, this time accompanied with a hard-rinded cheese that was well beyond its best, they did their best to convince the young guard that they required the return of their knitting bag, which remarkably they had brought upon their trip with them to the march.

‘You never know when you will able to snatch a moment,' Eunice had explained.

‘My sister and I are avid knitters,' contributed Jasmine.

‘We were raised never to be idle,' interjected Eunice. I thought for one remarkable moment that the guard would cave under their onslaught. He could not have been more than two and twenty, and sported eight or nine hairs proudly on his upper lip. He was polite and it was clear that dealing with what might otherwise have been considered ‘ladies' he felt quite unsuited to deal with their various demands. He had also most foolishly stepped inside the cell rather than shoving the food through and escaping as the others had done. Now, he was caught between the two sisters, who hovered mere inches from his person. Sweat beaded on his forehead and I felt a little sorry for him. Though not sorry enough to intervene.

‘Poor boy,' said Mary quietly at my side. ‘Should we rescue him?'

‘He should be ashamed of supporting the harassment of women,' I retorted loud enough to see the tops of his ears glow red.

‘I imagine he needs to keep his job,' said Mary. ‘Not all of us are lucky enough to enjoy a private income.'

Stung by her words, I snapped, ‘I have been quite clear that I am a paid companion.'

‘I was referring to myself,' said Mary calmly. She tilted her head to one side, ‘It must have occurred to you that I was fortunate in my circumstances. One does need to pay for university tuition, regardless of whether one is awarded a degree.'

Now it was my turn to blush. Mary's manners were those of a woman gently bred, but the surname she had given me was a most ordinary one. I had also gained the impression that she was unwed. She certainly wore no ring on her finger. Of course I had no way of verifying anything that any of these ladies claimed without resorting to Fitzroy, but the back of my neck was tingling and I had begun to suspect that Mary Hill harboured more than one mystery.

‘Ah, they have let him go,' said the object of my attention. I turned to see the guard now on the other side of the cell door, locking it behind him. The expression on his face was one of unguarded relief. Eunice and Jasmine retired to their favourite spot on the bench and commenced whispering to one another again. ‘I must confess to being somewhat relieved that he appears to have denied their request,' said Mary, so softly that I could barely hear her. ‘The thought of knitting needles among us in the cell when we have already had one death would, to me, not be conducive of a decent night's sleep.'

‘You mean they could be used as a weapon,' I responded shocked. ‘You think Eunice and Jasmine …'

‘My dear, at this point I suspect everyone,' said Mary. ‘I am convinced that poor little Maisie would not have harmed a fly. I cannot conceive of a reason for her to be killed unless one of our cellmates harbours some unnatural tendencies or an affliction of brainstorms.'

It was with these ominous words still echoing in my brain that I entered the room where Fitzroy awaited me. It appeared he shared my concerns, for I had been summoned once again. The doctor awaited to check my injury and once more a civilised meal awaited me. Fitzroy and I ate in silence. I was preoccupied with my own thoughts and the spy seemed intent on watching me closely. I therefore took the only option open to me inside a locked room and ignored him completely. When we had finished, never a stickler for convention, he poured me a cup of coffee himself. ‘Are you still determined to stay in the cell overnight?'

‘I cannot say I am looking forward to the experience, but I feel it is my duty.'

‘I warn you, Euphemia, this is your last chance. I will from now only remove you from the situation if you expressly ask. I have wasted more than enough time on this point.'

‘I have not asked you to keep pestering me with the same question,' I responded, snappily, for my head still ached.

A spark flashed in Fitzroy's eyes. He took a moment before he responded. ‘You are fortunate you are not officially on our staff. I do not suffer insolence from subordinates.'

‘I am most definitely not a member of your staff,' I said flatly. ‘I am …' I trailed off. I did not have any idea of what I was. A smile played across Fitzroy's lips as he followed my train of thought. ‘You are an amateur,' he said.

I was tempted to enquire as to more precisely I was an ‘amateur' at, but he had annoyed me. ‘I am indeed an amateur,' I said coldly. ‘How very galling it must be to owe your last rescue to an amateur.' I stressed the last two words.

But instead of rising to my bait, he nodded briefly. ‘You had a little help blowing that wall up. Although if you had looked at it as you are looking at me now, I would not have been surprised if it had crumbled under your gaze.'

I sighed. ‘True.'

‘Come, Euphemia, let us cease this quarrelling. Neither of us are in the best of health. I will forbear asking you again if you wish to leave.' He took a sip of his coffee and said with a casualness that I did not believe for a moment, ‘Did you mention my presence to Bertram?''

‘Yes. He has signed the Official Secrets Act, after all.'

‘Hmm. Did you have a reason other than mere friendliness?'

‘I thought if you gave me the name of the clubs Wilks used to frequent he might be able to discover something of help.'

Fortunately
³⁰
Fitzroy had swallowed just before my comment. However, his eyebrows shot up almost into his hairline. ‘You want to send Bertram into a bordello?'

‘You did say it was a higher class of establishment.'

Fitzroy threw back his head and laughed. ‘Do you think Bertram is in the habit of frequenting such places?' he asked.

I felt myself begin to blush. I knew that gentleman did – well, that they
saw
certain women for entertainment, but I had never considered Bertram in that light. I found that even edging close to the thought made me most uncomfortable. So I snapped back at him, ‘Doubtless you would be more at home in such establishments, but, as you say, you are not currently in the best of health.'

Fitzroy put down his coffee cup and leaned across the table. ‘I assure you I am well enough.'

I flinched backwards. He gave a slight smile and also sat back. ‘It is not a bad idea if he doesn't make a hash of it. He will have to be willing to play his part to the – shall we say – hilt. You may tell him that Wilks's favoured establishment was The Gilded Lily.'

‘Which is where?' I asked coldly.

‘I have no intention of telling you. I do not trust you not to visit there yourself – either to think to “save” the inhabitants or from idle curiosity.' I bridled angrily, but he continued, ‘Any of the porters at the gentleman's clubs in the city will be able to direct him.'

I took a breath. It was better to have it all out in the open. ‘I have also asked Richenda to help.'

‘What?' He made the single word as sharp as an arrow.

‘I have of course told her nothing of your involvement …'

‘You do still have a modicum of self-preservation then.'

‘But I thought she could use her contacts to attempt to discover more about the woman who died in the carriage.'

Fitzroy shrugged. ‘I doubt her husband will let her investigate, but it isn't that bad an idea.' He gave me one of his most mocking smiles. ‘Quite the little team you are gathering around you. You will be after my position next.'

‘Oh, I could never be like you,' I said sweetly.

Fitzroy frowned. ‘Much as I am enjoying this tete-a-tete, do you have anything of significance to tell me.'

‘Martha Lake is in all likelihood using an alias.'

‘We had worked that out,' said Fitzroy with a sigh. ‘Even my staff have some level of competence. We have checked the backgrounds of all the women with you, and Martha Lake does not exist. However, that does not make her a murderess, rather a woman likely attempting to shield her name. I had set in motion discreet enquires to see if a woman of her age and quality is known to be missing. Your observations should be of the more detailed kind as only a close proximity can produce.'

‘Eunice and Jasmine Pettigrew did their best to persuade a guard to allow them their knitting.'

‘I suppose if two were involved it would make things much easier, but if they were that clever would they draw attention to themselves by asking for a weapon?'

‘Killing someone by strangulation is, as you pointed out, very risky,' I answered. ‘And it would be easy to claim that someone else had stolen the needle from them.'

‘But why would they want to kill again?'

‘I did think of hinting I had seen something last night.'

‘A very last resort, I would suggest,' said Fitzroy, ‘and only when I have my men to hand. Your murder would be very inconvenient.'

‘I would not enjoy it much myself,' I said. ‘It was a foolish idea. Although Abigail Stokes is of the opinion that I am some kind of “coppers' nark” – I think that was it – and it didn't sound good for my health.'

‘Hmm.'

‘Constance Woodley is a deeply motivated suffragette and as a doctor's wife may have knowledge of the human anatomy. However, Angela Blackwood is an extreme oddity. Some kind of amateur scientist. She was the one who told us how Maisie must have been killed. She is extremely anti-social.'

‘You think her the strongest possibility?'

‘Quite the opposite. Why would she draw such attention to herself if she was guilty? I do not believe her to be mad, though, but simply eccentric. Mary Hill, on the other hand, is a woman with secrets, but so far her nature has not seemed to me consistent with one who could kill without at least showing remorse.'

‘That may be what we have to wait for,' said Fitzroy slowly.

I nodded. ‘You mean that will all of us locked up together with no immediate chance of release the murderess will grow desperate. How long can you keep us locked away?'

Fitzroy shrugged. ‘Not very much longer, I should think. The story is now in the newspapers. Although we have managed to ensure most of the details are inaccurate.'

‘I see,' I said.

Fitzroy eyed me with obvious misgiving. ‘What are you planning to do, Euphemia?'

I looked him square in the face and said, ‘Nothing you would not do, Eric.'

I had the pleasure of seeing the spy pale ever so slightly.

As I was escorted back to my cell for the night, I ran back over the conversation in my mind. I was certain there were questions I had forgotten to ask and things I had forgotten to say, but I did relish the experience that I had unsettled Fitzroy, even if only a little. If nothing else such self-satisfaction was a useful distraction from the worry of the long night ahead. During which I would be sleeping no more than six feet from a cold-blooded murderess.

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Or unfortunately, depending on your perspective.

Chapter Seventeen

Fights and weaponry

I have never been more grateful to open my eyes to sunlight. I sat up at once and mentally did a head count of the women in the cell. It was bright enough for me to assure myself that all of them were either awake or breathing as they slept. Certainly no one was lying in a crumpled heap in any of the corners. I encountered an unfriendly gaze from Abigail Stokes and my back spasmed alarmingly, causing me to utter an ‘oof' rather like my mother's old spaniel in its declining years.
³¹

‘Awake are you, coppers' nark?'

‘Your insult would have more effect if I understood what a nark was,' I said coolly. My sleeping accommodation had not placed me in a social mood. My head itched and my hair was in dire need of a wash.
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I felt at a loss to deal with the situation and frankly both bored and terrified by the situation. In short I was not brimming with Christian kindness.