Mrs. Jeffries Takes the Cake by Emily Brightwell Read Free Book Online Page B

someone had bought milk for tea and stopped at a bakery to buy a cake. That someone could be only one person. My father. So you see, he planned to be here this afternoon, and whoever he planned to meet killed him.”

    Witherspoon forced himself to speak with the servants. His head pounded and he’d heard more information than he could possibly understand in a very short time, but he felt it imperative he question the servants himself.
    He smiled at Maisie Donovan. She was a tall, buxom young lady with dark blonde hair and a wide, intelligent-looking face. “Now, Miss Donovan. Could you tell me again how it was that you went into Mr. Ashbury’s quarters and discovered his body?”
    Maisie nodded vigorously. “I might not have noticed if I’d not stopped on the landing to rest. That trunk of Mrs. Frommer’s weighs ever so much. If that bloomin’ Boyd hadn’t run off, I’da not been stuck draggin’ the ruddy thing up to the attic, but it’s a good thing it were me and not him, if you know what I mean. A bit slow is our Boyd. He’d have not noticed the light comin’ out of Mr. Ashbury’s door.” She paused to take a breath.
    “I’m afraid I don’t quite understand.” Witherspoon frowned. “Are you saying a member of your staff has gone missing?” This was rather important news.
    “Oh yes. We woke up this morning and Boyd had scarpered,” she said cheerily. “His clothes were gone too, so we knew he’d gone, you see. Mind you, everyone was quite shocked seein’ as how attached to Mrs. Frommer Boyd was. Loved her, he did. But maybe he got tired of bearin’ the brunt of Mr. Frommer’s temper all the time. He used to always say he was fixin’ to go off to Australia someday. Claimed he had a cousin in Adelaide.”
    Witherspoon thought about this statement. “So the lad was gone before anyone, including Mr. Ashbury, left the Ascot house? Is that correct?”
    She nodded. “That’s right. And Boyd wouldn’t ’ave killed anyone, ’specially not Mr. Ashbury. He’s simple, you see. That’s why it were a good thing it were me on the landin’ and not him. Boyd wouldn’t have gone into Mr. Ashbury’s quarters under any circumstances. Dead scared of Mr. Ashbury he was. Used to run and hide every time the old man came through the kitchen.”
    Witherspoon didn’t see how a footman who’d gone off hours before the murder could have anything to do with its commission, but one never knew. “But you did go into Mr. Ashbury’s quarters, correct?”
    “That’s right.”
    “Did you hear anyone else in there?” Barnes asked.
    She shook her head. “No, I didn’t hear anything.”
    “Did you see anything odd or unusual?” Witherspoon asked. “You know, when you first arrived back at the house. Was there any sign that someone had been in here? Any doors left open? Any windows?”
    “Nothing like that,” she replied firmly. “The back door was locked tighter than the vault at the Bank of England.”
    “How about the front door?” Barnes asked. “Was it locked?”
    “I think so.” Maisie seemed less sure now. “I mean, I didn’t go to the front of the house and look. That would be the butler’s job. Not mine. But I’ll tell you one thing; whoever left, didn’t go out by the back door. Not unless they had a key.”

CHAPTER 3

    “You didn’t need to wait up for me, Mrs. Jeffries.” Witherspoon handed her his hat. “But I’m very grateful that you did.”
    “I was curious about your new case, sir,” she replied, hanging the bowler on the coat tree and then starting down the hall. “Do come and have a sit-down, Inspector. I’ve made a fresh pot of tea.”
    He followed her into the drawing room and sat down in his favorite chair while she poured tea for the both of them. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to clear some of the muddle out of his mind. But everything about this evening was a jumble. The dead body, the gun being left on the scene, the apparent hatred between the Frommers,