“Mrs. Dobson’s making me a combination breakfast-high tea, bless her.” Alec had just got up. After leaving for work at the usual time yesterday, he hadn’t come home until the birds were breaking into their dawn chorus. “Then it’s back to work.”
“What’s going on?”
“Just one thing after another, culminating in a nightclub stabbing just as we thought we were done for the day. All the witnesses and suspects are night owls, so we are, too, perforce.”
In the dining room, Elsie was setting the table with an eclectic selection of tableware. “You’ll take your tea in here, madam?”
“Yes, please, Elsie.” Daisy waited till the ever-efficient parlourmaid finished her task and whisked out. “Alec, I simply must tell you the latest from Tommy.”
“You’ve heard from him again? It’s been a couple of weeks since you made the acquaintance of your Cousin Vincent, hasn’t it? But it’s your family’s business, not mine, thank goodness.”
“I was hoping for your advice, but if you’d rather tell me all about the nightclub stabbing—”
“Great Scott, no. I’ll be getting back to that soon enough. All right, go ahead. Has Pearson turned up an heir, or just another new cousin?”
“Another cousin, Raymond. He’s already on his way from South Africa.”
“South Africa!”
“When Tommy got the letter saying he was coming, he wired back immediately to tell him it might well be a waste of time and money, but by then he’d sailed from Cape Town. He’ll arrive in Southampton at the end of next week.”
“That doesn’t seem to call for my advice.”
“No, it’s the letter Tommy enclosed. The copy of a letter, rather. He wants to consult me before replying to it.”
“What on earth makes you think I have anything helpful to contribute?”
“You probably don’t. Talking about it may help me to work out whether I do.”
Sighing, he nodded acquiescence, but he cheered up when his meal arrived. Mrs. Dobson had cooked for Alec’s mother before he and Daisy were married. She was well aware of the needs of a hungry policeman and the tastes of her employer. A ham omelette with fried potatoes was flanked with bread and butter, salad, and a plate of cold roast beef. Rhubarb-and-strawberry tartlets, almond biscuits, and dark, moist gingerbread completed the spread, with a pot of coffee for Alec and tea for Daisy.
“Aaah!” breathed Alec and dug in.
Pouring herself a cup of tea, Daisy surveyed the offerings. It would be much easier to drop a few pounds if Mrs. Dobson wasn’t so good at baking as well as accounts. She took a thin slice of gingerbread and, to make it last, started talking.
“The letter is from a Mrs. Samuel Dalrymple in Jamaica. Her husband is a first officer in the Merchant Navy.”
Alec swallowed a mouthful and translated: “Mate of a freighter, since the war at least. He’s not illiterate, then, if he got his mate’s papers.”
“Illiterate? Why should he be?”
“I just wondered why she’s writing for him.”
“Because he’s off on a voyage, according to Tommy, and she doesn’t know when he’ll be back.”
“Must be a tramp steamer. No wireless? A small, elderly tramp steamer.”
“Pure speculation,” Daisy teased. Tit for tat: He had said it to her often enough.
“Not at all. Pure deduction.”
Daisy considered. “Oh yes, I suppose it’s reasonable.”
“What’s worrying Pearson?”
“Not really worrying. You see, Mrs. Samuel—Martha’s her name—wrote as soon as the advert was brought to her attention, because she wonders whether her husband is descended from Julian and Marie-Claire.”
“Obviously.”
“Yes, but the thing is, she was worrying that another man might be coroneted before anyone was aware of Samuel’s existence. She wrote because she didn’t dare wait for him to come home before notifying Tommy. And she asked him whether she ought to come to England right away. That’s what’s got him fussing. He doesn’t think she should travel on her own—he’s rather old-fashioned that way—and he doesn’t know what to do with her when she arrives. Given Samuel’s occupation, Tommy’s pretty sure she hasn’t got enough money for what he’d consider a suitable hotel for a lady on her own.”
“Given Samuel’s occupation, is she a lady?”
“Whatever she is now, she’ll be a lady if her husband turns out to be the heir presumptive. In the meantime, she must be treated as such.”
“Why doesn’t he just tell her to stay in Jamaica and wait for Samuel’s return?”