Bloody Right Page 24

  Minutes later one of the runners appeared on his bicycle, panting from pedaling hard. Followed closely by Gran and the sergeant, he on his bicycle, she riding sideways on the crossbar.

  The runner called out, “Down on Bell Lane! Those cottages copped it. All of them.”

  “No!” It was out of Alice’s mouth before she could stop it. A chill like frozen mercury plummeted inside her. Gloria’s house was on Bell Lane. What about Mary and Gryffyth? She should have asked them up to The Gallop. Damn, the house was big enough for all of them.

  “The nurse’s cottage?” Peter asked.

  “They got the edge of it. The row the other side of the road got a direct hit.”

  She heard them as if muffled through a thick fog. “Come along, dear.” Gran shook Alice. “There’s bound to be work to do. You get set up. Peter, you take the car and drive everyone down there. The sooner you get there, the sooner people get help. I’ll put on the kettle.”

  Gran was right. Alice opened her bag and took out her instruments. Everyone else reached for tools and first-aid boxes and piled into the car. “Better call for an ambulance, we’ll need it either way,” Mr. Black called.

  True. A direct hit meant few, if any, survivors.

  Gran was pouring the first round of tea for the two WVS ladies who’d just arrived, when Peter returned. “Alice! Look who I found!”

  Dear God! Alice wasn’t sure whether to cry or smile as Mary and Gryffyth hobbled in. “Found them on the road tottering along. They need a bit of first aid. Must get back.”

  “Mary, you’ve a cut on your head and your feet!” Gran was right, her feet were bleeding through her slippers. And so were Gryffyth’s, or one of them was. He wore one shoe.

  “Couldn’t you find the other one?” Silly, inconsequential question, but…

  He shook his head. “Didn’t look for it. I never take this one off. It’s my tin leg.”

  The two good women of the parish didn’t miss one little nuance of that, or how they arrived together, both thoroughly disheveled.

  Too damn bad.

  “Were you both in Nurse Prewitt’s house?” one of the good women asked. Nosy old bison.

  “Yes, madam,” Gryffyth replied. “We had to climb our way out after the front half caved in.” He also gave her a glare she totally ignored.

  “Miss LaPrioux’s billet too,” the other one said.

  Mary took care of that. “That’s right. We might as well announce it. We’re getting married soon and decided we’d better start practicing so as to have it perfect by the time we have a honeymoon.”

  If hot tea down the nose were fatal, they’d have had another casualty that night. As it was, the news would be all over the village by breakfast.

  Not that Mary or Gryffyth seemed to care. He was grinning like a Cheshire cat and Mary was glowing. Seemed Gryffyth had made her happy in a way even the Luftwaffe couldn’t quell.

  “Let me have a look at both of you. Then I’ll have Peter take you up to The Gallop.” They’d been lucky, maybe part and parcel of their Otherness? Just grazes, a few cuts and their roughed up feet. If they were the worst injuries tonight, Brytewood had been spared.

  They weren’t. The ambulances took five bodies and two badly injured to Dorking.

  It was Brytewood’s worst night of casualties so far.

  And they were still digging in the rubble the next day.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  It had been an annoying twenty-four hours.

  It was not Weiss’s nature to flee at the approach of a mortal, but Schmidt’s failure to appear was a matter of concern. Schmidt was sulking, Weiss had decided at first. But when Saturday morning came and there was still no sign of him, Weiss remembered how Schmidt had gone on about a woman with power. Did they, after all, have the wrong creature? Wrong one or not, he sustained himself from their captive. Quite delightful it had been as the man struggled and fought. The experience had been mildly reminiscent of feeding off that Fairy creature they’d all fed off in Adlerroost. Satisfied, he awaited Schmidt’s return.

  But instead of Schmidt returning for censure, a servant had appeared. Strategic withdrawal seemed wisest. He could have fed from her, but why reveal himself this early? Time enough to terrorize the household later.

  Watching from his roost on the stable-block roof, he was none too pleased to see his prey taken into the house, a building he couldn’t enter until Schmidt returned and invited him in.

  And there was the stumbling block: Schmidt didn’t return.

  Mortals came, one in a car, and a fat policeman pedaling his bicycle. Later in the day, three more arrived, and scoured the stable lofts, but as Weiss listened on the roof, all he learned was that the fool mortals were perplexed and confused. Long may they stay that way. Early afternoon, he gave up his watch of the house and set off to the village to haul Schmidt back.

  The house he’d delivered the flowers to last night was empty, and the big excitement in the village was the failure of the shopkeeper to open for business that morning.

  Their annoyance and confusion were interesting, even a trifle delightful, but a potential distraction. What mattered was locating Schmidt.

  And he was nowhere to be found.

  Convinced that the cook knew something, Weiss returned to Wharton Lacey and waited. She didn’t appear but the servant who’d disturbed him that morning did. She was wearing a coat and hat, and after fetching a bicycle from the stables, set off down the drive.

  He pursued. Not exactly a challenge. He avoided stopping her on the bridge. Best to have solid earth under his feet, but once she was out of the gates, he leapt over the shrubbery and landed a meter or two in front of her.

  Her shock and horror were quite rewarding.

  “Who the dickens are you?” she asked, braking hard, a frown on her impudent face. “Gave me the shock of my life, you did!”

  That was his intention. He stepped closer, smiled and grabbed her arm.

  She struggled. Hard to do and maintain her hold on the bicycle. Only made his job easier. He grabbed her chin, forced her head up until he caught her eyes with his and compelled her.

  It was disappointingly easy. Simpleminded, he supposed. “Who are you?”

  “Molly Durbridge. I’m the parlormaid up at the big house. Who are you?”

  That impudent question would go unanswered. “What happened to the man found in the stable loft?”

  “Him? Gave me a right turn, that did. They called the doctor and had the copper from down the village in to talk to him.”

  “Is he dying?” Had he talked too much? One never quite knew with mortals.

  “He thought so. Proper carry-on he made. But he don’t sound like a dying man.”

  “Is he leaving?”

  “You’re asking me? I don’t think so. Not for a while at least. I hear Sir James was calling in more policemen.”

  Mixed news. The man dying might have simplified things but now he needed to lie low. Weiss looked in her eyes and let a frisson of fear wash over her. He was tempted to feed but wasn’t that hungry. For safety’s sake, he held her head in both hands and wiped her memory clean of this meeting and of him. “Off you go, Molly Durbridge, and take your time coming back. No point in hurrying.” He’d no idea where she was going, but her returning late would only add to the confusion up at the house.

  Time to look for Schmidt and administer a little much-needed discipline.

  Unfortunately, search the village and the estate as he might, there was no trace of Schmidt. Weiss even ran back to Schmidt’s old lodgings to see if he’d returned there, and enquired at the ambulance post, but no one had seen him. What the hell had happened to Schmidt?

  The bombing in the village that night was a mild source of amusement and entertainment, but didn’t help to solve the pressing conundrum.

  “Doctor, it’s Edith Aubin up at Wharton Lacey.”

  “Yes?” Alice stifled the yawn. It was light already, she noticed that coming downstairs to answer th
e phone, but after a very long night another hour of sleep would have been nice. “Something the matter?” Had to be. Why else would they be calling—she glanced at the clock on the wall—at eight on a Sunday morning?

  “Sir James asked me to call you. It’s about Mr. Whorleigh.”

  That took care of her drowsiness. “Mr. Whorleigh? What happened?”

  Miss Aubin told her.

  “And he’s still up there?”

  “In one of the spare rooms. The doctor who came yesterday said he needed rest. The man was in such a bad state it seemed best to keep him here, but now he’s insisting on going home and I must admit he does seem better.”

  She bet he did. No doubt recovered fast. Like Gloria repairing a broken leg by shifting and changing back. But the whole kidnapping business sounded odd in the extreme. “I’ll be up there right away. You said Constable Parlett spoke to him?”

  “Yes. It’s really odd. Molly heard someone leave the stable block but there’s no trace of them.”

  Unlikely to be, if what she suspected was right. “Keep him there. Tell him I’m on my way and will drive him back home if he seems well enough.”

  “What’s going on, darling?” Peter called from the top of the stairs. “Someone gone into labor?”

  “No, not that.” She told him.

  “A rum do if ever there was one.”

  Definitely. “I’m on my way as soon as I get dressed, and I’ll bring him back here. Can you tell Gran and get everyone up here? We’re going to find out what’s going on. Seems Sam Whorleigh’s policy of noninvolvement has come forcibly to an end.”

  “And this all happened Friday night while you lot were staking that Vampire? Think he took Whorleigh, then cashed in his chips with you lot?”

  She shook her head. “Miss Aubin mentioned someone leaving the stables early Saturday morning. I’ll find out. Be a love and make me a cup of tea while I get dressed.”

  He didn’t just fix her tea, he made a sandwich with doorsteps of bread and a great hunk of cheese. “We skipped dinner last night, remember? You’ll need something. Lord alone knows when you’ll get back.”

  “Thanks, love. I’ll be back as soon as I can, and I’ll bring Whorleigh with me.”

  Sir James Gregory himself came out to greet her. “Ah, Doctor Watson, your patient is awake. Miss Aubin will show you up, but first may I have a word with you?”

  She could hardly refuse, and it would be interesting to get a human perspective on these odd events.

  “What happened?” she asked, after she’d refused, as graciously as she could, the sherry he pressed on her.

  “Strange business.” He shook his head. “Doctor, I know I can count on your discretion but this is rather difficult.”

  “Of course.”

  “We often have important visitors here. Government people,” he added. Alice nodded. The whole village knew that, it wasn’t exactly a state secret. When glossy black cars drove though the village, everyone knew where they were headed. “That’s why it’s so delicate. Wouldn’t do to have this sort of thing happen with a house full of guests.”

  She agreed it wouldn’t but since she didn’t exactly know what had happened, she asked. “You found Mr. Whorleigh in your stables?”

  He nodded. “Molly, the parlormaid, found him. He was missing clothes and chained to a bed frame in an unused room. He claims two men set on him as he was locking up Friday night and threw him in a lorry and brought him up here. We did discover one of the farm lorries blocking the drive early yesterday.

  “Police have questioned him, including a couple of detectives from London. For security reasons, you understand. He seems very vague about what happened but was truly upset and in a bad way when we found him.”

  “But he isn’t now?”

  “He claims he’s better. This whole business doesn’t make sense though.”

  It did to her. Not that she was about to share that, even if Sir James did entertain cabinet ministers and senior civil servants. “Perhaps after I see him, I’ll have something to add. Upstairs you said.”

  “Miss Aubin will show you.”

  Whorleigh was up in one of the now unused servants’ rooms. He looked up and glared as the door opened. “Bringing me clothes are you, woman?”

  “No, bringing the doctor.” The look he gave Alice was less than welcoming. “Anything you need, Doctor?” Miss Aubin asked.

  “I don’t think so. I need to examine him. Please tell Sir James I’ll be down in a while.” She felt a pang of guilt at sending the older woman back down those two flights of stairs, but needed to be sure she was alone. What she had to say was not for anyone else’s ears.

  “Called you up here, did they? No point. I’m fit as a fiddle.”

  “More likely fit as an Elf who’s just recovered from a bad shock. Let me get your blood pressure.” More out of curiosity than anything else, she tightened the cuff around his arm and slipped her stethoscope inside.

  “Don’t waste my time, Doctor. I’m well enough.”

  She paused in inflating the cuff. “Then tell me what happened. All of it.”

  “Why?”

  “Because then I’ll tell Sir James that you are well enough to leave and offer to drive you back myself.” Pressure check—much lower than a human’s. Interesting. She let the cuff deflate as he pondered that prospect.

  “Oh, alright then. If it’ll get me out of here.”

  “You’re lucky it was me Miss Aubin called this morning. The locum would have had a few questions about your sudden recovery.”

  “That’s why I want to get home.”

  He was wearing what looked like borrowed pajamas. Alice deliberately pulled the neck open. “So he didn’t bite you,” she said.

  “Yes, he did, but not there. And what do you know?” Gracious wasn’t his middle name.

  “About these creatures? More than you do, Mr. Whorleigh. Where did he bite you?”

  She almost felt sorry for him then. But not quite. He was clearly embarrassed. “Top of my leg.”

  “Your groin?”

  He nodded, obviously scared she’d ask to look. “Why don’t you get dressed? I’ll go and talk to Sir James.”

  “I don’t have any clothes, do I? That woman took them all.”

  “I’ll ask about them.”

  Heaven give her strength. He was a disagreeable man. Alright, a disagreeable Elf. Were they all like that? She hoped she never had occasion to find out, as she closed up her bag and headed downstairs.

  “How is he, Doctor?” Miss Aubin was standing at the bottom of the stairs as Alice descended.

  “Much better. Seems he has an iron constitution. I suggest he leaves with me. I can drive him back home.”

  “I think that would be for the best. You need to talk to Sir James and he’s on the phone. Had a call just after you went upstairs. Would you like a cup of tea while you wait for him?”

  Why not? “Yes, please. And could you get Mr. Whorleigh’s clothes up to him?”

  “I’ll have Molly take them. They were in a bad state. We washed what we could and brushed down his trousers. Never did find his other shoe.”

  “Give him what you have. He’ll be in the car after all.”

  “He’ll need a shirt. His was in shreds. I’d ask the new gardener to lend him one but the man’s disappeared.” Forever, as it happened, but that Alice wasn’t about to share. “I’ll see if we can find him one.”

  While she bustled off to consult with the lady of the manor over one of Sir James’s castoffs, Alice enjoyed a cup of tea in the kitchen with Molly Durbridge. She’d known Molly for years. She was the eldest of a vast family, and Alice had signed the papers for Molly to be exempt from call-up because of her asthma.

  “So,” Alice said as she sipped her tea and accepted a couple of flapjacks. (Where did Miss Aubin get golden syrup these days?) “You found him.”

  Molly nodded. “That’s what they say.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It�
��s the oddest thing. I don’t remember. Really made that policeman from London cross, but honest, I don’t. He and Lady Gregory and Miss Aubin all say I did, and screamed, but I don’t remember. I had the day off yesterday, on account of no weekend guests. Miss Aubin said as how I could go home and see Mum. She’s a bit poorly, you know.” Alice did. Mrs. Durbridge was nearing term with her fifteenth child. “So I went off. Spent the day at home. I was late back. Not sure why, but Miss Aubin covered for me. Tore me off a strip though, she did, but then I had to see those London policemen. I’m not sure they believed me not remembering, but I don’t. I believe them when they say what happened though, but it must be delayed shock.”

  “Did you meet anyone going home?”

  She shook her head. “No. I had to have been a bit dazed. Don’t remember much about leaving the house, but I remember pedaling home from the end of the drive.”

  Odd. Stress and shock did things to the human mind but, given what else had happened, it just felt wrong. And if Gran was right about there being two Vampires…“Didn’t the new gardener find him?”

  “Him? He’s done a runner. Went off Friday night and never came back. The coppers asked about him too, but he’s disappeared into thin air.” No, into a pile of sludge on Gloria’s kitchen floor. “That’s another thing as has them all het up.” The nod of her head indicated the world the other side of the kitchen door. “And Miss Aubin too. She recommended him. He was some nephew of a friend of hers or something.”

  Interesting. “At least you got to see your mother this weekend. Next one might be busy.”

  “This week will be. We’ve people coming on Tuesday, so Miss Aubin says. So we start cooking today, Sunday or not.”

  “Yes, we do, Molly,” Miss Aubin said, as she came in the door. “Time to stop gossiping and get on with the ironing, and Doctor, Sir James would like a brief word with you.”

  It was very brief, but just as well. She was dying to get Whorleigh to The Gallop.

  “So, you’re taking him off our hands, Doctor?”

  “He’s well enough to move and everyone rests better at home. Besides, you’ve more pressing things to do than provide accommodation to stray villagers.”