Berried Alive (Manor House Mystery) (21 page)

"Quite," Elizabeth murmured. She stirred her tea and laid the spoon back in the saucer. "Speaking of Mrs. Parsons, she paid a visit to the house last evening. I believe she gave some of her gingerbread to Martin, in exchange for a packet of scented soap."

Rita looked dumbfounded. "I can't believe the nerve of that woman. Just because two of our members had been given the soap for the scavenger hunt, she takes it upon herself to march up to the Manor House and demand some, too. I have to tell you, your ladyship, that's not the sort of behavior I allow from our members of the Housewives League."

Exasperated by the woman's censure of a supposed friend, Elizabeth said mildly, "No harm done. It was, after all, a fair exchange. I'm quite sure Martin enjoyed the gingerbread, and in any case, Mrs. Parsons didn't want the soap for herself. She told Martin she wanted it for her granddaughter."

"Oh, yes. Pauline." Rita looked longingly at the Chelsea
buns in front of Elizabeth. "I wonder what happened to her. She never comes down to see Maisie. You'd think she would since Maisie took her in when Pauline's mother died in that air raid. The child's father was killed at Dunkirk, you know."

Elizabeth disregarded Rita's obvious lust for a Chelsea bun. If she offered her one she was bound to take it and that would only delay her departure. "Oh, poor child. I know how it feels to lose one's parents."

"Well, it doesn't seem to have bothered her that much. Off she goes, back to London, with all that bombing going on, and never a word to Maisie. Or to our Lilly, for that matter."

Elizabeth looked at her in surprise. "Your daughter?"

Rita nodded. "Inseparable, they were. Took to each other right away and went everywhere together. Then Pauline got herself mixed up with a Yank. Gingerhead, he was. Hair the color of carrots. After that our Lilly didn't see too much of her. Then one day Pauline simply wasn't there anymore. Gone to London, Maisie said. Without one word to our Lilly."

Elizabeth stared at her. There was a nasty feeling in the pit of her stomach. She wasn't sure quite why at this point, but the sensation was familiar. It had happened before. A strong sense of knowing something important, yet unable to grasp just what it was.

"What's more, I don't know how Maisie can send soap to her granddaughter," Rita added, "when she doesn't even know where she's living."

"I'm really not all that well acquainted with Mrs. Parsons," Elizabeth said carefully. "Where does she live?"

"Oh, she's not one of your tenants," Rita assured her. "She lives in one of the fisherman's cottages down by the
bay. Lovely garden, she has. Always pottering about in it. I'll say that much for her, she knows a lot about flowers. Grows all kinds, she does."

"If you will excuse me, Rita," Elizabeth said abruptly, "I have an important errand to run. Do help yourself to a Chelsea bun." She left Rita happily gobbling up the iced buns, and hurried to her motorcycle.

It took her only a few minutes to wind her way down the coast road to the bay. The cottages were scattered about the shoreline, but a friendly housewife directed her to Maisie Parson's cottage. After parking her motorcycle out of sight around a curve in the lane, Elizabeth cautiously made her way to the cottage.

The front garden was a mass of flowers, everything from bright blue cornflowers and orange marigolds to white daisies and huge yellow sunflowers. Elizabeth's attention, however was centered on the shrubs bordering the confusion of blossoms. There had to be at least a half dozen bushes of daphne.

She was halfway back to the mansion when she finally pounced on what it was she was trying to remember. It was Martin, telling her and Violet how Maisie Parsons had insulted her own gingerbread.
She said that her gingerbread was moldy and should be disposed off as soon as possible
.

What if she hadn't said the word gingerbread at all, but instead had used Rita's version of a redhead.

Gingerhead
.

Martin said he hadn't heard her clearly, because Sadie was talking to Joe Hanson at the time.

Elizabeth increased the speed of her motorcycle. Lieutenant Hanson had red hair. Maisie must have caught sight of him and Sadie in the hallway. Was she talking about
disposing of her gingerbread, or the gingerhead? That certainly made a lot more sense.

Horrible, deadly sense.

Arriving back at the manor, she wheeled her motorcycle into the stables, then rushed around to the kitchen door. There was no time to wait for Martin's fumbled attempts to open the front door. She needed to talk to Sadie right away.

She found the housemaid in the kitchen, arguing with Violet, as usual.

"I told you I did dust him," Sadie declared, as Elizabeth burst through the door. "I remember rubbing his belly with me polishing cloth."

Violet swung around to face Elizabeth, her face creased in surprise. "Goodness, you're in a hurry. Is something wrong?"

"I hope not." Elizabeth fell on a chair, gasping for breath. "Sadie," she said, when she could speak clearly, "when you were in the Tudor Arms last night, did you happen to see any members of the Housewives League?"

"Yes, m'm, I did." Sadie looked puzzled. "Some of them were sitting near the piano. I remember thinking how daft they were to sit that close to a piano so they couldn't hear—"

"Sadie, forgive me for interrupting. Did you notice if one of the group was Maisie Parsons?"

"Oh, yes, m'm. She was there."

Elizabeth felt a spurt of fear. "Have you talked to Lieutenant Hanson since last night?"

Sadie's face lit up with her smile. "Yes, m'm. I seen him this morning. You'll never guess what he brought me." She reached in her pocket and pulled out what appeared to be a sheet of newspaper. "Look at this."

She thrust the paper at Elizabeth, who took it from her
and smoothed it out. It was an article about Winston Churchill. There was a picture of him striding along some very familiar cliffs.

"I told everyone I seen Winnie, and nobody believed me," Sadie said, her voice rising in her excitement. "That's why Joe called me barmy last night. He didn't believe me neither. That's what made me cross with him so I walked out. Then this morning he brings me this piece of the newspaper and there it was. Full of apologies, he was."

She pointed a finger at the clipping in Elizabeth's hand. "Winston Churchill came down here on a secret mission. No one knows why. Some say it were his double made-up to look like him, so the spies would think he was here when he was really somewhere else. They're always trying to do him in, you know." She raised her chin and gave Violet a triumphant toss of her head. "See, I told you I seen him."

Violet clucked her tongue. "All right, missie, so you saw him. That doesn't mean you can skimp on your housework. You get up there and dust that suit-of-armor properly, like I told you to do."

Sadie slumped toward the door. "All right, I'm going." Then she paused. "Oh, wait, me newspaper story." She came back to the table and Elizabeth handed her the clipping.

"I'm going to keep it," she said, tucking it into her pocket. "It brought me and Joe together again." She grinned at Elizabeth. "He's taking me out again at the weekend."

"How nice." Elizabeth was genuinely happy for her. "I don't suppose Mrs. Parsons spoke to either of you last night?"

Sadie looked baffled. "It's funny you should say that. Joe gave her a lift home last night. She hurt her ankle. He's a really nice man, that Joe. He told me she gave him some
gingerbread for helping her. He didn't want to take it, but she wouldn't let him leave without it." Sadie turned back to the door. "I hope he saves me a bit. I heard it was really yummy."

As the door swung behind her, Violet said testily, "Yummy? What kind of word is that? More of that American slang, I—" She broke off as Elizabeth flew across the room. "What's wrong with you?"

Elizabeth flung the words over her shoulder. "What did Martin do with that gingerbread?"

"He gave it to me. Said he didn't like ginger."

"Did you eat any of it?"

"Not yet, but—"

"Well, throw it out. I'll explain later. I have to ring the base." She didn't wait to hear Violet's answer. All she could do was pray that Joe hadn't yet sampled that gingerbread.

It took far too long for Earl to come to the telephone. When she finally heard his voice, she let out her breath in relief. "Oh, Earl, thank heavens you're there. I was so afraid you'd be out on a mission or something, and I have something to ask you that's desperately important."

His pause worried her. "How did you know?" he said at last.

Her heart sunk. Oh, God, no. Not Joe. "Is it Lieutenant Hanson?" she asked fearfully. "He's not dead, is he?"

Earl's voice sounded strange. "Joe? No, he's fine. At least, he was when he took off an hour ago. Why? Do you know something we don't?"

She gripped the handset and pressed it to her ear. "Last night Joe was given some gingerbread by one of our villagers. I need to know if he's eaten it yet, and if not, I want you to give it to your medics for testing. I think you'll find it contains poison."

"Gingerbread?" Earl sounded incredulous. "Are you sure?"

"No, I'm not at all sure. But we have to find out if I'm right before Lieutenant Hanson eats it. If I'm wrong I'll personally ask Maisie Parsons to replace it."

"Let's just hope he didn't take it with him." Earl hesitated. "I'll take care of it, and I'll call you back with the results."

"Thank you, Earl. I pray that I'm wrong, or at least that I rang you in time."

"Right." Again that odd pause, then he added, "I need to talk to you anyway. Soon. This evening?"

Her heart skipped. Now she remembered something else. Something he'd said when she first spoke to him.
How did you know?
She didn't like the way her stomach was jiggling.

Impatiently, she pushed her worries aside. That could wait until tonight. Right now the important thing was to find out if her hunch was right. "This evening," she agreed. "But you will ring me the minute you know about the gingerbread?"

"Promise. And Elizabeth?"

"Yes?"

"Don't do anything until you hear from me, all right?"

"I won't. I'll wait for you to ring me."

"Is that a promise?"

"I promise." She replaced the handset, and leaned back in her chair. How long would it take them to test the gingerbread? Had Joe Hanson already eaten some? He could be dying right now, somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean. All she could do was pray.

The telephone rang late that afternoon. Alone in her office, Elizabeth snatched up the phone. She'd sent Polly home earlier. The child had been drooping at her desk all
morning, her red eyes and runny nose suggesting a summer cold was in the offing.

"Hello?" she said breathlessly. "This is the Manor House residence. You are speaking to Lady Elizabeth."

"Elizabeth."

As always, his voice caused her heart to leap with joy. "Earl! Did you find the gingerbread? Did you get it tested? Was I right?"

"Whoa, slow down there." He paused. "We found the tin of gingerbread. You were right, Elizabeth. It was loaded with enough poison to kill an elephant."

She hissed out her breath. "So the article in the book was right. Cooking doesn't kill the poison."

"Nope. It looks as if the lady crushed up the berries and mixed them into the gingerbread. It couldn't have tasted that good, but according to the lab techs, it wouldn't have taken more than a bite or two to kill a guy."

"What about Lieutenant Hanson?"

"Last report we had from his crate he's alive and well."

"Thank God." She felt weak with relief. "Then he must not have eaten any."

"Doesn't look like it."

"Thank you, Earl. I suppose now I should ring the constables."

"I guess so, though our guys have already gone to the lady's house. They'll be bringing her back here for questioning."

"When they do," Elizabeth said quietly, "ask them to find out what happened to her granddaughter, Pauline."

It was late that evening when Earl finally tapped on the conservatory door. Elizabeth had spent the evening trying to work out the intricacies of the knitting pattern she'd
bought, and had actually managed to complete several rows. She hastily tucked the work under the cushion of her wicker couch when she heard Earl's knock.

He looked grave when he came in, and again her stomach quivered with apprehension.

She waited while he poured himself a Scotch from the bottle she had ready for him and had settled himself in the rocker before saying a little impatiently, "Well, what happened? Is Maisie Parsons in custody? Did she admit to poisoning the gingerbread? Is Lieutenant Hanson still all right?"

Earl sipped his drink and put it down on the table between them. "Joe is fine. He arrived back from the mission safe and sound. Never touched the gingerbread. He was saving it for a midnight snack."

She nodded in relief. "And Mrs. Parsons?"

"They are holding her at the base until custody arrangements have been made with Scotland Yard."

Elizabeth drew a sharp breath. "So she did poison the gingerbread."

"Yes. She's responsible for the deaths of five young American servicemen."

Something in the way he said it touched her heart. "Oh, Earl, I'm so sorry. It must be devastating for you to lose them that way."

He reached for his glass again. "You hope and pray that they'll make it back from a mission, and when they do you thank God. That's war. This . . ." He shook his head, momentarily speechless, then added, "This is something else. Such a terrible waste."

"I know." She put out a hand, leaning forward to touch him. "I truly am sorry."

He seemed lost in thought for a moment, then said more
firmly, "Well, at least we stopped her from poisoning anyone else. Thanks to you. Who knows how many more young men would have lost their lives if it hadn't been for your persistence and intelligence. The United States Army Air Force owes you a great debt."

She didn't want anything from the USAAF. All she wanted was approval from him. "I'm just so very glad I could help." She was quiet with him for several moments, mulling over what had happened. Then, after watching him sip too fast at his drink, she added tentatively, "Did Mrs. Parsons tell the investigators why she killed those men?"