A Death for King and Country (12 page)

Chapter Twenty-two

In which we take a trip into the countryside and
Bertram makes good use of his shoe

I climbed into the front of the automobile next to Rory. Bertram relayed directions he gained from the clerk through the speaking tube, but neither of them could hear Rory and my conversation.

‘What on earth do you think you are doing?’ I protested.

‘I am doing what you wanted,’ said Rory. ‘I am doing my best to free this Fitzroy chap.’

‘But we cannot take on –
take on
! – whoever they are. We are not Fitzroys.’

‘I dinnae see we have much option,’ said Rory, lapsing back into Scots. ‘Frae what ye telt me his whole department think the mannie deid. And we certainly cannae go tae the pol-ice. It down to us. Unless ye want to let the man die.’

‘Damn Fitzroy,’ I said with feeling.

‘Say the word and I will happily turn the automobile around and leave him to his fate.’

‘And the clerk?’

‘Och, if we leave him in the countryside somewhere there’s no reason he should ever be able to find us. Even Bertram has had the sense not to use our names.’

I sighed. ‘We cannot just leave him to die.’

‘The countryside isnae that fierce around here.’

‘I meant Fitzroy,’ I said.

‘He’s in a shady line of work. He kens the risks.’

‘Then why did he leave an instruction to me to check if he was really dead.’

‘Maybe he thought you would be the only one who would care,’ said Rory. ‘I dinnae ken how close the twa of yous have become.’

‘Not at all,’ I said coldly.

‘And yet he asks you.’

‘Oh, for Heaven’s sake, Rory, now is not the time for one of your jealous fits of temper. You jilted me, remember.’

‘Ainely because you were too guid for me. And I’m ten times the man Fitzroy will ever be. Slimy devil that he is.’

At this point we were interrupted by Bertram informing us the farm was around the next bend. Rory took the automobile off the road and found a place behind a hedge were we could see the farm from a distance. It was far, far bigger than I had imagined. I was distracted from the sight by the sound of movement behind me. I turned round and to my astonishment saw Bertram pulling a large picnic basket out of the baggage compartment. He lugged it round to the front the vehicle. ‘Hie, Euphemia, come and help me set this up,’ he called.

‘So much for not using names,’ said Rory. Bertram had left his door open. I scrambled down and went over to help him.

‘Anyone who sees us will only think we are having a picnic,’ said Bertram. ‘You see, Rory and I did think of everything.’

I laid out a tablecloth, set out china plates of dainty sandwiches, cakes, and tiny pies and pastries. There was a large sealed jug of lemonade, and one of those flasks designed to keep things warm, filled with coffee. There were silver knives and forks, and matching cups and saucers. The hotel seemed to have provided everything for a motorist’s lunch. Rory came over to join us on the grass.

‘What about the clerk?’ I asked.

‘He’s not going anywhere unless he is very good at hopping,’ said Rory. ‘I made him a new gag, so he won’t be attracting any attention.’

‘As it’s here,’ said Bertram eyeing an iced bun, ‘we may as well eat it.’

It transpired that all of us were remarkably hungry after the exertions of the morning. Both men had been up before dawn, so it was not surprising they needed sustenance. I, on the hand, had the lingering feeling that this might be my last meal. When we had eaten and drunk our fill. I again raised the question of what we might do next.

‘The place is much larger than I imagined,’ said Rory, echoing my thoughts. ‘I had hoped it would have only a few outbuildings and we might be able to work out where they were holding Fitzroy.’

‘And?’ I asked.

‘We had got as far as thinking about coming back after dark to rescue him,’ said Bertram.

‘How?’ I asked.

‘Oh, knocking out guards and knocking down doors. That sort of thing,’ said Bertram airily.

‘If they have weapons?’

‘We were going to wait until the guards were not around,’ said Bertram. ‘If there even were guards.’ He frowned at me. ‘You are being rather difficult, Euphemia.’

‘I am sitting having a picnic in front of car that contains a kidnapped man, and in a field next to a pig farm peopled with traitors. I think the whole situation is rather difficult,’ I said dryly.

‘It might be a good idea if we got a closer look at the farm, so we could see what we are up against,’ said Rory.

‘How?’ I asked. Bertram scowled at me and scratched his beard in a most irritating manner. I sighed and said, ‘I suggest that one or two of us fabricate a pretext for calling at the farm and make the most of the opportunity to discover the lay of the land.’

‘That’s you and me, then,’ said Bertram to Rory.

‘Actually, I think it would seem more harmless if I took Euphemia with me,’ said Rory. ‘I need you to guard the clerk. If someone comes by you might have to untie him, so everything looks normal, and still keep him under control.’

‘How the devil would I do that?’ demanded Bertram.

‘I have no idea,’ said Rory. ‘I only know we cannot ask Euphemia to do it.’

‘Damn Fitzroy,’ said Bertram. ‘Are you sure, Euphemia, that we can’t just throw in the towel and go home? I am beginning to get the devil of a headache.’

‘We should give our prisoner something to eat,’ I said.

Rory shrugged. ‘Give him the fish paste sandwiches. They are below the standard I would have expected from the hotel. I shall have to have words.’
[21]

‘Perhaps we are the housekeeper and butler of a Lord, who is opening a house down here and wants us to assess the local produce.’

‘Then you had better be the cook.’

‘But I know nothing about cooking!’ I protested.

‘Fortunately for us, as my uncle was the local butcher and I know more about meat that most men.’

‘Did your family run the entire High Street?’ asked Bertram. ‘You certainly appear to have mercantile ancestors.’

‘Aye,’ said Rory darkly.

‘Best plan is you say as little as possible, Euphemia. We had better be husband and wife for this too.’

I nodded. ‘That is much more believable.’

‘I don’t like this,’ said Bertram. ‘You will be walking into a den of traitors.’

‘This was never going to be easy,’ I said. ‘We have come too far to turn back now.’

‘No, we haven’t,’ protested Bertram. ‘My automobile will turn around as easy as a hot knife goes through jam.’

‘Butter,’ Rory and I corrected at once.

‘It was Fitzroy who brought Euphemia into this,’ said Rory. ‘I second your desire to shield her from danger, but I think we are all in great danger until we retrieve Fitzroy. Once we have him, I am hoping he can handle the situation.’

‘As well as he is handling it now,’ muttered Bertram.

‘At least he should be able to summon reinforcements,’ said Rory.

One thought had been troubling me for some time. ‘We kept pigs when I was child,’ I said. ‘Pigs eat anything.’

‘Yes,’ said Bertram. ‘Do you want to take them some of this? Only I don’t think bribing a pig with a jam tart is liable to help us much.’

‘No, she means that a good way to get rid of a body is to chop it up and feed it to pigs,’ said Rory.

‘But people eat those pigs!’ cried Bertram. He dropped his head in his hands. ‘That is so wrong.’

‘Murder generally is,’ I said.

‘I will never look at another sausage the same way,’ said Bertram with great regret.

‘Devastated as I am for your loss,’ said Rory, ‘if Euphemia and I are going to go in we had better do it now before the afternoon is spent. Obviously, we will need to take the automobile.’

Bertram sat up as if he had been stung by a bee. ‘Of course,’ I said. ‘It is not as if we can appear out of nowhere. It has to be believable that we have come from a nearby big house. Do you know the names of any?’

Rory shook his head. ‘I did look up a few of them on the map, and enquire among the hotel staff. I said I needed to change masters.’

Bertram grumbled under his breath, but Rory spoke over him.

‘However, upon consideration it occurs to me that the farmers may already have made arrangements with the local houses, and we would immediately be exposed.’

‘What am I meant to do with our prisoner?’ demanded Bertram. ‘Or are you intending to take him with you?’

Rory gave him a look which quite clearly told him not to be so stupid, but all he said was, ‘I think the best situation is if we lie him down and put the rug over him. You can lean on him as if he is part of your picnic equipment. If anyone questions you, you can say your companions have gone to fetch more beer from the local public house.’

‘Do I look like the kind of man who drinks beer in fields?!’

But Rory was already heading to the automobile to retrieve the prisoner.

‘Would you like me to clear any of this away?’ I asked Bertram indicating the picnic.

‘Leave it. It seems the only employment I am to be allowed to have is to eat jam and scones in the sun.’

‘That will be a lot nicer than walking around a smelly pig farm,’ I responded.

‘That smell,’ asked Bertram, ‘is that them?’

‘Yes, what did you think it was?’

Bertram blushed slightly. ‘I really didn’t want to say. The Scotch do eat some funny things.’

Rory appeared towing a hopping clerk. ‘Lie down there,’ he commanded. The clerk looked at us helpless for a moment. Then toppled over head long like a falling tree. His head struck the ground hard and his eyes closed. Rory through the carpet over him. ‘That should keep him out of your way.’

I followed Rory back to the automobile aware that I was leaving a very disgruntled Bertram behind me.

‘Are you sure you want me to accompany you,’ I said as I climbed into the seat beside the driver. ‘Would it not make more sense to have a strong man with you?’

Rory started the engine and climbed up beside me. ‘Do you know where I could find one?’ he asked.

‘Oh, that is cruel.’

‘Bertram Stapleford is an intelligent and a brave man,’ he said. ‘But he is far from being in good health. Leaving his heart condition aside, he is still suffering from concussion. The normal Bertram would not have gone along with any of these schemes.’

‘I did wonder.’

‘Plus you are better at thinking on your feet. Bertram has a tendency to panic.’

‘He has led a sheltered life,’ I said defensively.

‘Oh, he’s better than most toffs,’ said Rory. ‘I will give you that.’

And with that he drove the vehicle out of the field. My last sight of Bertram was a view of him attempting to beat back a rising carpet with his shoe.

[21]
You may take the man away from butlering, but you cannot take the butler out of the man.

Chapter Twenty-three

In which I wait a very long time for a cup of tea

The stench of the pig farm lodged deep in our nostrils before we even turned into the farm driveway. I took a handkerchief from my bag and held it to my nose.

‘Och, be careful, Euphemia,’ said Rory. ‘You’re not pretending to be a lady the now.’

‘I do wish you would decide to speak in either the King’s English or Scotch,’ I quibbled. ‘This constant changing is most confusing.’

‘Aye, I can see that,’ said Rory. ‘I reckon I am stuck between the twa now. It used to be English for work and Scots – Scots that is, Euphemia, not Scotch. Scotch is something you drink. Anyway, Scots was for home. But I’m becoming more like yourself. A fish out of water.’

This came dangerously near to the truth, so I let the topic slide. ‘So what is the plan?’

‘What we discussed. We have come to enquire after meat for a grand meal our master is intending to host to launch himself and his family in the neighbourhood. He is most particular about his meat and has sent us to inspect it.’

‘And how do we rescue Fitzroy?’

‘We dinnae. At least not yet. The point of this exercise is to get a look around the farm and ascertain where he may be being held. Bertram and I will return later at night and attempt to free him. So as much information we can find out about the lie of the land this time would be most useful.’

I could see a great many problems with this plan. I mentioned one. ‘They will doubtless have dogs.’

‘Aye, it’s a shame. We will have to use poisoned meat.’

‘Oh, the poor things.’

‘Poor me if I get canine jaws sunk into my ar … posterior and then shot by the awakened farmers.’

‘Yes, I see.’ I paused. ‘Do you think he is still alive?’

‘You mean has he become pig-food yet?’

I nodded.

‘I am afraid that our escapades at the docks previously did arouse suspicion and it may be that his captors will cut their losses and run. That is if he has not already told them what they need to know.’

‘I think that is unlikely,’ I said. ‘I cannot imagine him caving under torture.’

Rory threw me a sidelong look.

‘You have no idea what torture is,’ he said.

‘Neither do you,’ I replied crisply. ‘But we can be certain it would be most unpleasant.’

For a moment it seemed as if Rory had something more to add, but he let the moment pass. He drew up alongside the house. He turned off the engine and jumped down leaving me to fend for myself. The farm drive was exceedingly muddy, so I felt faintly victorious when I managed to scrabble down without ending up head first in the mud.
[22]

The farmhouse was a long low building of only one storey. The entire structure was clad with wooden planks, making it look more like a barn than a house. It was a big flat cube of a thing that promised corridors winding between the rooms. There were several windows at the front and two at the side nearest us. They seemed to have been put in a most haphazard manner. The ones that faced out over the farmyard were covered in a wire frame through which would be vaguely glimpsed none-too-clean curtains. Only the side windows near the door were clean and sparkling in the sun. There was a main entrance at the front of the building, but it was clearly shut up.

Before it and around to the side there were rows and rows of pig pens with their small yards. From the one nearest to us it seemed there were either two or three pigs in one or a sow and her piglets. It was a very large operation. I estimated there must have been over a hundred animals on the premises. The noise they made was a loud snuffling and slurping, but it was the smell that was overpowering. The stench of dung ripening in the sun was extremely unpleasant. Away in the distance I could see other covered outbuildings and shut doors. The yard itself was muddy and rutted. It was clear of debris, but somehow still unkempt. Bags of pig feed were piled up alongside the house. A wheelbarrow stood next to them. I gathered we had arrived close to feeding time.

Rory walked up to the side door and banged on it. I followed quickly behind him. The door opened with a hideous squeak, revealing a well-rounded middle-aged woman in a long, faded dress, knocking flour from her hands.

‘Can I help you?’ she said, sounding and looking all the world like a typical farmer’s wife.

‘Aye,’ said Rory. ‘I mean yes.’ He too seemed flustered by the woman’s homely guise. ‘Our master is moving into the neighbourhood and is holding a grand weekend party. He has asked Cook and I to enquire locally about the availability of fine ingredients.’

‘I wish I could help, but you have come on my baking day. Derek, my husband, is out feeding the beasts. He’d be happy to call at your house if you will leave your address. He can bring some samples out for you to try.’

‘That is a kind offer,’ answered Rory, ‘but our master is most insistent that we see how the animals are reared. He has some guy modern ideas about farming.’

‘How strange,’ said the woman noncommittally.

‘Aye, he is a strange man, but a wealthy one,’ continued Rory. ‘In with all the top people, though his is a new title. I believe even the local magistrates will be attending.’

‘Will they indeed,’ said the woman. ‘You had better come in. I will make you a cup of tea while you wait for Derek. I don’t have anything to do with the beasts myself. Dirty things. This way. I warn you he may be a while.’

‘Perhaps we could look for him among the sties?’ asked Rory.

‘Oh, you wouldn’t want to do that,’ said the farmer’s wife. ‘Some of those beasts can be right vicious. People take the Perfect Piggy name to heart, but really they are nasty things, pigs. You wouldn’t want to end up in a pen by mistake. Take a chunk out of your leg soon as look at you, they would. And then once you’re on the ground … well, let’s just say it’s unlikely you would be getting up again. There, there, dear. You are looking quite pale,’ she said, patting me on the arm. ‘you sit yourself down in my little parlour. There’ll be no piggies coming in here. Our Rufus will see to that won’t you, boy?’ she finished obscurely.

She had led us into a small, well-kept parlour. A fire was burning in the grate despite the warmness of the day. A clean threadbare couch with hand-quilted cushions set before the hearth. As we approached the hearth rug rose up to meet us, revealing itself to be Rufus, a brown and grey mongrel dog, the size of a small pony. He bared his teeth at the sight of us.

‘Don’t mind him,’ said the woman. ‘He’s just giving you a smile.’

The dog gave a low, rumbling growl. As one, Rory and I sat down on the couch. ‘I’ll be back in a minute,’ said the woman. ‘Make yourself at home.’

Rufus plonked his great haunches down on the ground and sat down opposite us. Seated his and my eye level matched. He was truly huge. A dollop of salvia drooled down towards the floor. I could not help wondering if he had been fed today.

‘That’s a guy big guard dog,’ said Rory quietly. ‘Do you think he’s half pony?’

‘I think he has been set to watch us and make sure we do not leave this room.’

Rory lowered his voice even further. ‘Do you think they know who we are?’

‘I do not think so,’ I said. ‘I think she is being as cautious as anyone might be who had a prisoner on the premises. You said we were sent by our master, so they cannot risk making us disappear as our master would come looking for us.’

‘That was the idea,’ said Rory.

‘I was almost convinced we had it all wrong,’ I said.

‘She is a very convincing farmer’s wife.’

‘She has not been baking.’

‘What?’

‘Do you smell bread? She said it was baking day. There’s no smell.’

Rory nodded. ‘The work of a moment to dip your hands in some flour. These are very dangerous people.’

‘I agree,’ I said. ‘Maybe we should leave before she comes back.’ I started to rise. Rufus let out a blood-curdling growl. I sat back down. ‘Maybe not,’ said Rory. I looked at him helplessly. Everything had already started to go wrong.

What felt like hours later the woman returned, bringing a coarse-looking, squat man with her. There was no sign of any tea things.

‘My husband,’ she said. ‘These people, Derek, are enquiring about your meats for their master.’

Derek grunted and came across to Rufus. He rubbed the dog’s ears. Rufus looked up at him adoringly and drooled on his shoe.

‘Good boy,’ he said to the dog. Then he looked over to us. ‘Don’t do farm visits,’ he said shortly. ‘Give me your address and I'll bring some meat round to sample.’

‘They said their master wants to see how the beasts are reared,’ put in the woman.

‘Why?’ said the man.

Rory shrugged. ‘The man has some ideas about how beasts should be raised. As I said to your wife, he is a guy strange man.’

‘Scots, are you?’ said Derek. He smiled at Rory. ‘Good people, the Scots.’

‘We are that,’ agreed Rory.

‘And what do you think about your master’s ideas?’

‘I think you should trust the farmer. My father has a smallholding up in the Highlands.’

‘So you know a bit about farming.’

‘A wee bit,’ said Rory.

‘I tell you what, seeing as you have farmer’s blood in your veins I’ll make an exception for you and give you a little tour. Your cook can stay with my wife and have a cup of tea. Tilda never takes enough breaks. Girl would work herself to death if I let her. It will be nice for her to have some company for a while.’

‘Excellent,’ said Rory. ‘It would be grand to see your farm. It looked mighty impressive driving up.’ He stood up. This time Rufus made no protest.

‘Take Rufus with you,’ said his wife. ‘I think the girl is a bit shy of him.’

‘What, a hulking great softie like him?’ said the man, bending down to rub the dog’s stomach. ‘He wouldn’t hurt a fly. Unless they were intruders, like. Best guard dog in the county.’

‘I can believe it,’ I said. ‘He is a formidable animal.’

The farmer gave me a smile, but his eyes remained cold. ‘You make yourself comfy, girl, and I’ll show your man what he wants to see. The wife will bring your tea.’

Rory left with the farmer and Rufus. The woman smiled at me and closed the door behind her. ‘I’ll fetch the tea,’ she called. Then I heard the click of a key being turned. I had been locked in.

[22]
I had never before exited an automobile unassisted.