Berried Alive (Manor House Mystery) (6 page)

BOOK: Berried Alive (Manor House Mystery)
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"And unofficially?"

He looked sheepish. "I was kind of hoping you'd look into it."

She smiled.

"Just as long as there's no danger involved," he added hurriedly.

"Of course."

"What about this dairy farmer? Do you really think he might have something to do with it?"

"I don't know." She frowned. "He certainly had a strong enough motive to hate at least one American airman. But why kill the others? Simply because they reminded him of his daughter's boyfriend? I find that hard to believe. Did your medics mention what kind of berries?"

Earl shook his head. "The report named the poisons. Mezerin, I think. Something like that. And something that sounded like a girl's name. Began with a D. Diana . . . no, Doris . . . wait a minute . . ."

While he thought about it she got to her feet. "I'll be back in a minute," she said. "I believe I have a book on poisonous plants in the library. I'll take a look. Would you care for some sherry or would you rather have a short?"

He raised his eyebrows. "Short?"

"You know, a short drink. Like Scotch, or gin."

"Oh!" His frown cleared. "Scotch sounds good."

"Right. I'll have Violet fetch it for you." She left him alone and headed for the kitchen. After giving Violet instructions to take both Scotch and sherry to the conservatory, she ran up the stairs to the library.

It took her longer than she intended to find the book, and she hurried back to the conservatory, half afraid Earl had given up on her and left.

When she pushed open the door, however, he was still there in the rocker, head back, drink in hand, his eyes closed. He looked so peaceful and rested she hated to
disturb him, but as she crept across the floor to the white wicker couch he opened his eyes.

"Hope you don't mind me starting without you," he said, raising the crystal glass.

"Of course not." She saw that he'd poured her a glass of sherry, and smiled her thanks. "There's nothing like a glass of good sherry to relax one at the end of the day." She sank onto the couch and opened up the book. "Now, you say it began with D. Have you thought of it, yet?"

"Nope. It's not a common name, I know that."

Elizabeth began reading down the index. "Oh, my, there's so many poisonous plants. I had no idea. Ah, here we are. There's only one that begins with a D. Good Lord. Daphne?"

"That's it!" Earl sat up so fast his Scotch slurped around in the glass. "I knew it was a girl's name."

"All parts are poisonous," Elizabeth read out loud. "The fruit is especially deadly. The poisons are daphnetoxin and mezerein. Heating or cooking doesn't kill toxicity. Symptoms include severe burning of mouth and throat, acute enteritis, kidney damage, convulsions, coma, ending in death." She snapped the book closed. "Those poor souls. How they must have suffered. I had no idea the plant was so toxic."

"Do you know what it looks like?"

"Why, yes." She waved a hand at the windows. "We probably have some right here in the gardens. I'm not an expert on gardening, but I believe it's a very popular ornamental plant and grows well in our climate."

Earl shook his head. "I can't believe those guys would be stupid enough to eat berries without knowing what they were."

"Who knows what young men do when they've had too much to drink." Elizabeth laid the book down beside her. "Then again, they might not have known they were eating them. Someone could easily crush up the berries and drop them into a glass of stout. You did say that each of the men who died spent his last night at the Tudor Arms, didn't you?"

"I did." Earl ran a hand through his springy hair. "I can't believe that someone out there hates us enough to do something that gruesome."

"Which brings us back to Dick Adelaide." Elizabeth reached for her sherry. "I think I'll take a ride past the dairy farm again tomorrow. Just to see if there's any daphne growing in the garden."

"You will be careful, Elizabeth?"

She felt warmed by his concern. "Aren't I always?"

His shout of laughter took her by surprise. "How many times have I had to barge in and rescue you?"

"Ah, I do that on purpose. Just so you can feel chivalrous."

Again his grin lightened her heart. "You like the idea of a white knight charging to the rescue on his horse?"

"I like the idea of you charging to the rescue." Again she had spoken impulsively, and quickly added, "You are far more reliable than our local constabulary."

He sighed, and put down his glass. "Trust the United States Army Air Force to get the job done, right?" He glanced at his watch. "It's time I got going. Thanks for the Scotch."

"No need to thank me. You brought us two bottles last week from the base." She watched him rise to his feet, already feeling the pain of loss. It could be days before she saw him again. How she hated this beastly war. Then
again, without it, she would never have had these precious moments with him.

"Then I thank you for the very pleasant company. Just promise me you won't do anything rash."

He pulled on his cap, and her heart turned over. How handsome he looked in his uniform. "I promise." She jumped up, disturbing the dogs once more. "I'll simply ask a few questions, and I'll drop in on the constables, just in case they happen to have some useful information. George can be very tight-lipped at times, but Sid, bless his heart, can't keep a still tongue in his head."

Earl seemed unconvinced. "I don't like asking you to get involved in this, but if someone had it in for these guys and deliberately poisoned them, I want to know. It's hard enough to lose them in battle, but to lose them this way breaks my heart. I hate to see the whole thing brushed under the mat like this but my hands are tied."

Against her better judgement she moved closer to him and laid her hand on his arm. "Don't worry, Earl. I'll do everything in my power to ferret out what really happened to those men."

"I know you will." He looked down at her hand resting on his arm, then reached for it. Slowly he raised it and pressed his lips to her fingers. "I don't know what I'd do without you now. You make it all bearable."

Unexpected tears stung her eyes. "I'm glad." She pulled her hand from his grasp. "Don't stay away so long next time."

"I'll try not to." He looked down at her for a long moment, until she thought she would suffocate from holding her breath. Then, with a muttered "Good night," he twisted away from her and disappeared through the door.

It wasn't until an hour or so later that she realized she
hadn't told him about the three musketeers Alfie had talked about. Ah well, it would give her a good excuse to talk to Earl again soon. Right now she was ready to grasp every opportunity she could get.

"I swear this place gets more bloomin' crowded every time we come down here." Sadie lifted a glass tankard of foaming beer and gulped several mouthfuls of it before putting it back down.

Seated across from her, Polly looked on in amazement. She'd never liked the taste of beer, and couldn't understand how Sadie managed to drink so much of it. She'd be peeing all night long if she drank half that much.

"It's getting noisier, too." Sadie twisted her head to scan the room. "Can't see anything interesting yet, can you, Marl?"

Marlene shrugged. "Not much, no."

Sadie narrowed her eyes. "That bloke over there looks a bit of all right. Got a nice bum, he has. Wouldn't mind putting my hands on that."

Marlene looked shocked, while Polly giggled. "Gawd, if Ma heard us talking like that she'd take the poker to us," she said. "Anyway, I thought you was bringing Winnie down here with you tonight."

Marlene stared at her sister. "Who's Winnie?"

"Winston Churchill hisself, that's who." Polly pointed a finger at Sadie. "Ask her how she met him."

Marlene turned her astonished gaze on Sadie. "You met Winston Churchill?"

"I didn't say as how I met him," Sadie said, glaring at Polly. "I said as I how I
seen
him. Up on the cliffs. I said good morning to him, but he didn't answer me. Just sort of
nodded, you know the way he does, then went on walking with his head down."

"Can't see as how you did that," Polly said scornfully, "when he spoke on the wireless last night. He'd have to fly down here to get here that fast."

"Well, maybe he did," Sadie said smugly. "After all, if anyone can get a ride on a plane it would be our Winnie, right?"

"Well, I don't believe you saw him, so there."

Marlene shook her head. "It couldn't have been him, Sadie. What would he be doing in Sitting Marsh?"

Sadie raised her shoulders and let them drop. "How the bloody hell do I know? Watching for an invasion, more than likely. He's always talking about one, ain't he?"

Marlene's mouth tugged into a smile, then she exploded into a fit of giggles. "Maybe he just wanted a paddle in the sea."

"He'd have to pick his way through the land mines," Polly said, joining in the laughter.

Sadie's cheeks turned pink. "I don't care what no one says, I saw him and that's that. Anyhow, I'd rather have my hands on that Yank over there than Winnie anytime."

Polly followed Sadie's gaze to where a group of GIs lounged against the bar. "Which one is he, anyway?"

"That one on the right." Sadie jerked her head in that direction. "The tall one with the blond hair."

Polly looked. "He's all right, but he's nothing next to my Sam." The ache was back in her stomach. "I wish he was down here. I miss him so much."

Marlene snorted. "What you need is another boyfriend."

Polly shook her head. "Don't want no one but Sam."

"Your sister's right," Sadie said, her gaze still directed
at the bar. "The best medicine for a broken heart is a new bloke."

"If I can't have Sam I don't want no one." Polly picked up her gin and orange and threw most of it down her throat. Choking, she had to wait until she got her breath back before adding hoarsely, "Even if I have to be an old maid for the rest of me life."

Sadie gave her a pitying look. "You're only sixteen. You got lots of time to find the right bloke for you. These Yanks are all right to have some fun with, but none of them wants to get bleeding married. They'll be back in America at the end of the war."

"And that's where I'm going. Back with Sam." Polly stared defiantly at Sadie. "So there."

Sadie's scornful laugh exploded across the table. "Don't be bleeding daft. Whatcha want to go to America for? You could get your head shot off. They all got guns there. Everyone has 'em."

"No they don't." Polly fought back tears. "They have nice houses and swimming pools and mountains and everything."

Sadie rolled her eyes. "I can tell you've been watching too many of them American films. Real life ain't like that, Polly, and you'd better know what you're getting into if you go to America."

"She's not going to America," Marlene said firmly. "Ma would never let her go. She's too young."

"Well, I wouldn't want to go. Would you?"

Marlene smiled. "Not me. I got bigger plans than that."

Polly glared at Marlene. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Never you mind." Marlene turned to Sadie. "Are you going to sing in the talent show tonight?"

Sadie shrugged. "Don't know. I haven't had enough beer yet."

Polly sat back in her chair, hoping the pain under her ribs would go away. Marlene never kept secrets from her until lately. Something was up with her big sister, and Polly wanted very badly to know what was going on. It wasn't like Marlene to shut her out. They'd shared everything together, but lately Marlene seemed to be shutting herself away in a world of her own. She didn't even understand about her wanting to go to America.

Perhaps she should have another gin. Though even that didn't help when she thought about Sam going to America without her.

Throughout the rest of the evening she sat wishing she was somewhere else. Preferably with Sam, of course. Anywhere, as long as it was with Sam.

Sadie was persuaded to get up on the microphone, where she bellowed out a rowdy version of "My Old Man's a Dustman," then had everyone up to do "Knees up Mother Brown." Everyone except Polly, that was.

Having had more than her fill of the smoke, the out-of-tune bellowing and the stink of beer, Polly decided to ride back to the house on her own. Although it was getting dark now, she knew the road well enough to ride without lights, and in any case the moon was out. She just wanted to be on her own for a while and enjoy her misery.

She let the pub door swing behind her, shutting off the noise as she stepped out into the quiet car park. She'd left her bicycle with the others leaning against the back fence, away from where the Yanks parked their Jeeps.

She rounded the corner of the pub and had to pick her way through the vehicles to get to the fence. As she did so, she heard a scuffling sound off to her left, then a bunch of
hissing that sounded like steam gushing from a boiling kettle.

She stopped dead, wondering what could have caused the noise. Voices, low and muffled drifted across the silent Jeeps. Curious now, Polly crept toward the sound, bent almost double to avoid being seen by whoever was making the peculiar noise.

More scuffling, closer this time, brought her to a halt. The hissing noise sounded again, and she realized it was coming from the Jeep right in front of her. Carefully she peered around the bonnet.

There were three of them, all wearing handkerchiefs over their noses like the bank robbers she saw in the cowboy films. As she watched, she saw moonlight glinting on something in the nearest bloke's hand. It was a knife, and to her horror she saw him plunge it into one of the tires.

She drew back, terrified of being caught nosing. She'd heard about the gang from London and the damage they'd done in the village. She never expected to see them in the act.

Frantically she wondered what to do. She should go back to the pub and tell someone they were out there cutting up the tires on the Jeeps. But if they saw her, Gawd knows what they'd do to her. She felt sick at the thought.

In any case, by the time she got back to the pub, they'd be off and running anyway. It wasn't worth risking her life. She'd just have to wait until they were gone.

BOOK: Berried Alive (Manor House Mystery)
3.52Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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