The Bloomsbury Murder (Augusta Peel Mysteries Book 3), page 13
“She may well have been trying to do that.”
“Could one of the five girls be a murderer?”
“It’s possible, isn’t it? If Anne McCall was pushed, the girl who did it probably didn’t have murder in mind prior to the event. It’s likely that she intended to inflict a great deal of harm upon her, though.”
“It makes me wonder whether the motive for Miss Thackeray and Mrs Cooper’s murders was revenge,” said Augusta.
“And if the murderer was seeking revenge on behalf of Mrs McCall, Miss Frankland-Russell may also be in danger.”
“She wasn’t at the shop today,” said Augusta, feeling a growing sense of alarm. “We need to find her!”
“Do you happen to know where she lives?”
“No.”
“I’ve a bad feeling about this, Augusta. I’m going to alert Marylebone and Holborn divisions right away. I fear we may have another attack to investigate very shortly.”
Philip picked up the receiver and made a couple of telephone calls. While he spoke to his colleagues, Augusta continued to read through the files.
She stopped when she heard a note of bitter disappointment in his voice. “What’s wrong?” she asked, looking up.
He sighed and wiped a hand over his face. “There’s no need for us to go looking for Catherine Frankland-Russell,” he replied. “We’re too late.”
Chapter 33
“She’s been taken to University College Hospital,” said Philip.
“She’s still alive?”
He nodded. “It sounded as though she were dead at first, but it turns out she’s just badly injured. The poor girl! Hopefully she’ll make a full recovery. Let’s go and talk to her. We desperately need to stop whoever’s doing this.”
As they travelled to the hospital by taxi, Philip related the facts of the case to Augusta. “According to the sergeant at Holborn station, the attack happened yesterday evening, shortly after nightfall. Miss Frankland-Russell – or Lucy Briggs, as she’s been calling herself – was walking home from work and had just crossed Euston Road. She was attacked close to her lodgings in Longford Street. She was walking along Osnaburgh Street, by the church. It’s pretty much opposite Great Portland Street tube station, so it would have been busy. The attack was foiled by passers-by who rushed over to help. He ran away before anyone could stop him. It seems our assailant is getting desperate. He decided to attack in a much busier location this time.”
“How horrible.”
“Visiting time is over,” said the stern-faced nurse on the ward where Catherine was being treated.
“We’ll be very quick,” replied Philip, showing her his warrant card.
“It doesn’t matter how quick you are, Inspector. It’s half-past eight, so it’s too late to be visiting her today.”
“Lucy Briggs was attacked by a very dangerous man, Nurse. We suspect this was the third time he’s done such a thing. You are aware that two young women were recently murdered, are you not? It’s becoming increasingly difficult to reassure the people of London that they are safe while this man is on the loose. We need to speak to Miss Briggs and get a good description of him. I want our officers combing the streets for the culprit immediately.”
The nurse sighed. “No more than five minutes, then. Miss Briggs is very tired and she’s had an awful shock. Bed number eighteen.”
Augusta and Philip made their way through the long ward which reeked of disinfectant. Their footsteps echoed noisily on the linoleum floor. Augusta attempted to tread carefully, many of the patients were either resting or asleep.
“I’m glad you’re here with me, Augusta,” whispered Philip. “You’re a useful chaperone. I don’t think these ladies would have cared to see a man striding through here otherwise.”
Bed eighteen was at the far end of the ward. Catherine smiled weakly when she saw Augusta. Her unusually pale face contrasted with her dark hair, and there was bruising on her cheek and around her throat.
“How are you, Miss Frankland-Russell?” asked Augusta.
“Relieved to still be alive,” Catherine replied. “I should have known I’d be next.”
“Why didn’t you tell us about Mrs McCall?”
Catherine turned away. “There wasn’t really anything to say about it.”
“But at least we would have had a plausible motive for the attacks on Miss Thackeray and Mrs Cooper if you had.”
Catherine turned back to face her. “Even if you’d known the reason, you wouldn’t have been able to stop him.”
“We need to catch him,” said Philip. He sat down in a chair and rested his walking stick against the bed before pulling out a notebook and pen. “Now, what did he look like?”
“I didn’t really see because he came up behind me. He was wearing a rough coat… possibly tweed, because it felt scratchy against my neck and face.”
“You didn’t see anything of him at all?”
“No. It was dark and it all happened too quickly for me to react. He pushed me over, then I felt something around my neck. A bit of rope. I managed to cry out before he pulled it tight and that’s when the people walking nearby heard me. It was terrifying. I couldn’t breathe!” Her eyes grew watery. “I was so relieved when they stopped him. I’d like to thank them, but I don’t know who they were.”
“You’ve had a lucky escape,” said Philip. “It was fortunate that there were people close by and they were very brave to run to your aid like that. Before we move on, is there anything else you can tell me about the man who attacked you? Did he speak at all?”
“He said, ‘This is for Annie!’ And then I felt the rope around my neck.”
“How did his voice sound?”
“Normal.”
“There was no accent that you could detect?”
“No.”
“The name Annie. I assume he was referring to Anne McCall. Do you think the attack was carried out as an act of vengeance for her death?”
“I suppose so. I didn’t register who he meant at the time. It wasn’t until afterwards that I made the connection.”
“Mrs McCall’s husband, perhaps?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did you ever meet her husband?”
“No.”
“What can you tell us about Mrs McCall’s death?” Philip asked. “Was she pushed?”
Catherine turned away again. “She tripped and fell.”
“No one pushed her?”
“No.”
“Mrs Peel and I have just been reading the statements made by you and your friends at the time,” said Philip. “Several people stated that she was pushed.”
“She wasn’t.”
“Did she push you or one of your friends first?”
“No.” The young woman screwed her eyes up. “I don’t want to talk about this all over again. It was bad enough when it first happened!”
A nurse overheard Catherine’s distressed voice from further down the ward and began striding towards them.
“All right,” replied Philip. “Just one more question for now, then we’ll leave you be. Do you happen to know the current whereabouts of Susan Peterson or Mary Colbourne?”
“I don’t know about Susan, but I heard that Mary died a few years ago.”
“Really?” queried Philip. “Do you know what the cause of death was?”
“She was found in the River Thames. I don’t know how it happened.”
The nurse reached them. “Miss Briggs needs to rest now, Inspector. She’s been through a dreadful ordeal.”
“Of course.”
They bid Catherine goodnight and the nurse escorted them out of the ward.
“Miss Briggs must not leave this hospital without having somewhere safe to go,” Philip told the nurse. “Can the ward be locked at night?”
“Why would it need to be locked?”
“It just does. Don’t let anyone in unless you can be sure that they are who they say they are. I’ll arrange for a constable to be stationed here.”
The nurse’s eyes grew wide. “Is Miss Briggs in danger?”
“Yes, she may well be.”
Chapter 34
“Mr Evans has been asking for more books by Charles Dickens,” said Fred in the bookshop the following day.
“He’s already finished A Tale of Two Cities?”
“Apparently so.”
Augusta sighed. “If only I’d had time to repair the copy of Little Dorrit sitting in the workshop. There’s a copy of Nicolas Nickleby in there, too. Would you mind asking which he’d prefer to read when he next pops in?”
“I will, although Nicholas Nickleby definitely gets my vote.”
“See if you can persuade him to choose that one, then. It’s not quite as damaged as Little Dorrit and may be quicker to repair. Thank you for your help, Fred. I don’t know what I’d have done without you this past week.”
“I’m enjoying it. It’s a good location, isn’t it? There are always people passing by, and I’ve found that rearranging the window display each day generates new interest. That’s something I always liked to do at Webster’s.”
“I think it’s an excellent idea and, judging by our recent takings, it’s an effective one too. It gives me peace of mind to know that I can trust you with the place. The case I’m working on will hopefully be solved soon and then I’ll have more time to dedicate to my bookshop. I’ve also been a bit remiss about visiting an old friend of mine. Sparky’s owner, as it happens. I’m looking after him for Lady Hereford while she’s in hospital.”
“Will she want him back when she comes out?”
“Yes, I suspect she will. It’ll be a sad day when Sparky returns to her, but I know they’ll be happy together.” Augusta felt a heaviness in her heart at the thought of his departure. “I’ll close the shop for an hour at lunchtime,” she continued. “That way, I can visit Lady Hereford and you can have a well-deserved break.”
“An hour seems rather long, Mrs Peel. I don’t want us to lose out on any custom. Ten minutes will be plenty of time for me to pop out and get a sandwich.”
“Really? But you need a break, Fred!”
“I’ll be fine. It’s a habit of mine to keep working steadily through the day.”
“Well, only if you’re sure.”
“Oh, I’m quite sure!”
“It sounds as though Catherine Frankland-Russell is lucky to be alive,” said Lady Hereford, looking up from the newspaper in her hospital bed.
Augusta started. “How do you know it was Catherine Frankland-Russell who was attacked?”
“It names her here. Though, apparently, she was using the name Lucy Briggs. Isn’t she the one you were looking for?”
“Yes, and I found her. But she didn’t want her parents to find out where she was.” Augusta felt an uncomfortable twinge in her stomach. “Now they’ll almost certainly find out.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“Her parents were trying to force her to marry Hugh Farrell.”
Lady Hereford lowered her newspaper once again. “That’s right, they were! I remember now. That was the connection he had with the family. I couldn’t remember the exact details when I suggested his name to you. How did you get on with him, by the way? I hope Detective Inspector Fisher accompanied you there.”
“He didn’t, because I’d already visited Mr Farrell before he had the chance to offer. Let’s just say that Mr Farrell ended up with a hot cup of tea in his lap.”
Lady Hereford laughed. “Oh dear, I do apologise. He’s an awful man, isn’t he? No wonder Catherine ran away.”
Augusta updated Lady Hereford on the case. Bored of sitting about in the hospital, the old lady always liked to hear all the latest news.
“The important thing now is that Catherine is kept safe,” said Augusta.
“Shouldn’t she be made to stand trial for the murder of that poor teacher?”
“It would be really helpful if she could just be honest about what happened.”
“It would indeed. There must be some sort of punishment in place for lying to the police. Justice hasn’t been done.”
“I don’t know if she lied, exactly. She just hasn’t been terribly forthcoming with the truth.”
“You’re defending her, Augusta. I don’t see what possible defence there can be for such actions!”
“Perhaps the girls’ youthfulness at the time should be taken into account.”
“How old were they back then? Fifteen? Sixteen? Old enough to know better, I would say. I think Catherine and the other one who hasn’t died yet should stand trial.”
“That’s for the police to decide, Lady Hereford.”
“I’m not saying the other girls deserved to be murdered. No one deserves that. But you can’t blame someone for coming after them if they were all involved in killing that poor teacher or covering it up. What an awful thing to do! And in a school, of all places. I suspect she was only trying to do her job. Young girls today never like being told what to do, that’s the problem. Insubordination of that sort would never have been tolerated in my day. Nor yours, Augusta. I don’t know what sort of a generation we’re rearing these days.”
“Catherine isn’t safe. She needs to be protected.”
“But if she played a part in her teacher’s death, she should be held to account. And if she didn’t, I suppose the safest place would be her parents’ home. They’re up in Shropshire, aren’t they? That’s right, Harkup House. Far away from this madman who’s going around murdering everybody involved in that teacher’s death.”
“I imagine the parents will have found out where their daughter is by now,” said Augusta. “And I’ve just realised that someone else will also know.”
She felt a sudden sense of dread as it dawned on her that Thomas Bewick would also have discovered where Miss Frankland-Russell was, despite the fact that Augusta hadn’t yet informed him.
Chapter 35
Augusta’s telephone rang not long after she had returned home from the hospital that evening.
“Mrs Peel?” said the voice. “It’s Thomas Bewick here.”
Augusta grimaced. He had already caught up with her. “Good evening, Mr Bewick,” she said cheerily. “How may I help?”
“I take it you read about the recent attack on Miss Frankland-Russell in the newspapers?”
“Yes, I did.”
“Did you know where Miss Frankland-Russell was before the reports were published?” he asked.
Augusta didn’t want to lie to the lawyer; she was hopeless at lying. She decided it was probably best to explain herself, but chose her words carefully. “I must admit that I did, Mr Bewick. I had a very good reason for not telling you immediately, however, and please don’t think for a moment that I wasn’t planning to tell you at all.”
“You’re telling me that her poor parents had to wait until today to find out where she was, yet you knew several days ago?”
“Yes, I had already found her, but she swore me to secrecy. She told me her parents wanted her to marry an extremely unpleasant man named Hugh Farrell. I felt rather a lot of sympathy for her predicament and said that I would keep her whereabouts quiet for a few days providing that she wrote to her parents to inform them she was safe and well.”
“What you’re saying, Mrs Peel, is that you didn’t tell me because you believed Miss Frankland-Russell’s side of the story.”
“Yes.”
“I’m quite sure that Lord Frankland-Russell would have given his side of the story if we had asked him.”
“Maybe so, but it’s extremely worrying that Miss Frankland-Russell has been attacked, either way. I’m just glad she managed to escape and that she seems to be recovering well.”
“How do you know she’s recovering well?”
“I visited her in hospital yesterday evening with Detective Inspector Fisher from Scotland Yard.”
“You visited her last night? And you still didn’t have the courtesy to tell me?”
“I’m sorry, Mr Bewick. I really do apologise. It’s just that I’ve become rather embroiled in this case.”
“So it seems, Mrs Peel, but you were paid to locate Miss Frankland-Russell for her family’s sake. Granted, you may have found her, but you didn’t keep me informed of her whereabouts. I’m sorry to have to say this, but Lord Frankland-Russell may refuse to pay you when he finds out.”
“All I can do is apologise, Mr Bewick. Miss Frankland-Russell was adamant that she didn’t want her parents to know where she was and, as a woman of twenty-one, she’s entitled to live her life the way she sees fit. But as you’ve said, it’s good that her parents know she’s safe and well.”
“And now they’re extremely concerned, given that she’s in hospital and they’re too unwell to travel! She may be twenty-one, but that doesn’t mean she knows what’s best for herself. If you’d told me you had found her at the time, she could have been reunited with her parents and out of danger by now!”
The lawyer had a point, although Augusta wasn’t sure the young woman could ever have been convinced to return home. She hadn’t even managed to send her parents a letter.
“You mentioned an inspector from the Yard earlier,” said the lawyer. “Is he investigating the terrible attack on Miss Frankland-Russell?”
“Yes. I’ve been assisting Detective Inspector Fisher with the investigation into two recent murders. I discovered that the victims, Elizabeth Thackeray and Dorothy Cooper, were at school with Miss Frankland-Russell. All three were involved in a tragic incident, during which a teacher died. Two other girls were also present, one of whom has since died in questionable circumstances. We don’t know where the fifth young woman is at the moment, but there’s a theory that the girls were attacked as an act of revenge for their involvement in the death of the teacher. That obviously can’t be proven yet, but they were all very secretive when I spoke to each of them individually about their past. It all made sense once I discovered what had happened at the school.”
