02 - Mrs. Jeffries Dusts for Clues by Emily Brightwell Read Free Book Online Page B

couple of years ago and ain’t worked since, so they’s in a bad way. Garrett knows how hard life is for his family. He wouldn’t be sendin’ Mary there for them to feed and house.” She broke off and stared morosely at the far wall for a few seconds. Then she added, “It don’t look good, does it, Hepzibah?”
    “It looks better than it did yesterday,” Mrs. Jeffries replied. “At least we’re beginning to put together Mary’s movements. Smythe is trying to track down the driver of the hansom that picked Mary up, and Betsy is trying to trace her friend, Cassie Yates.”
    “Why you lookin’ for her?” Luty snorted. “Cassie ain’t the kind to be takin’ someone in.”
    “Yes, but you did say she and Mary were friends. We’re hoping Cassie Yates may have some idea of where Mary could have gone.”
    “I don’t think so. The only reason they was friends was because Mary felt sorry for her. Cassie was such a cat the other girls couldn’t stand her.”
    “But we’re assuming that Mary was desperate,” Mrs. Jeffries explained. “We’ve heard that Cassie may have gotten married recently. If she’s a respectable married woman, there’s a chance that Mary may have gone to her to stay until you returned from Venice.”
    “Cassie Yates a respectable married woman!” Luty laughed. “That’s danged unlikely.”
    “Whyever not?”
    “I don’t know what kinda tales you been hearin’, but Cassie Yates ain’t the type o’ woman to tie herself down to jest one man. Why at least twice, I’ve seen the little tart with men, and they wasn’t jest talkin’ neither, if’n you take my meanin’. One time she was letting Andrew Lutterbank kiss her, and the other time she was behind that big old oak tree with a blond-haired young feller, and they wasn’t havin’ tea together. Besides, if’n Mary went to Cassie, then why ain’t I heard from her?” Luty jumped to her feet and began to pace the room. “Even if’n Cassie’d take her in, and that’s a big if’n, believe me, that don’t explain why she didn’t contact me when I come back. Mary knew when I was comin’ home.”
    Mrs. Jeffries lowered her gaze and stared at the scrolling pattern of acanthus leaves in the Brussels-weave carpet beneath her feet. She had no choice. She had to tell Luty about the body. Despite her assurances to Betsy and the others, there was a chance that the corpse was the remains of Mary Sparks. Luty had a right to know.
    “Luty,” she said softly, “there’s something else I must tell you.”
    Luty stopped pacing. “What?”
    “There’s been a murder. They’ve found the body of a young woman. She was wearing a dark blue dress. Inspector Witherspoon says the girl’s been dead several months.”
    The elderly woman stiffened and seemed to brace herself. “Do you think it’s Mary?”
    “No. But I had to tell you. The possibility does exist. The timing is too coincidental to ignore. Besides that, the deceased had dark blond hair and a silver broach was pinned on the lapel of her dress.”
    For a moment, Mrs. Jeffries thought Luty might faint. She watched her close her eyes, sway gently to one side, clutch the back of the chair and then take one deep, shuddering breath. “Are you all right?” she asked in alarm.
    Luty’s eyes flew open and she straightened her spine. Ignoring Mrs. Jeffries’s question, she hurried to the door and flung it open. “Hatchet,” she bellowed. “Bring me my hat and cane.”
    Puzzled, Mrs. Jeffries leapt to her feet. “What are you doing?”
    “What does it look like? I’m gittin’ ready to go out.” Luty took her hat and cane from the tall, white-haired butler, nodded her thanks and jammed the hat on her head. “They’ve got the body somewhere, don’t they?”
    “Yes, of course they do,” Mrs. Jeffries replied. “Oh, no. You’re not going to…”
    “Yup. I wanta see it. I wanta see with my own eyes if it’s Mary.”
    “But, Luty,” Mrs. Jeffries protested.