Eventually we had the few items I needed for supper as well as some laundry soap and some white thread, but Lady Hardcastle was still full of beans and itching to investigate her new mystery.
‘Come on, pet,’ she said, striding off down a side road towards the houses behind the shops. ‘Let’s go and pay a call on Mr Nelson Snelson.’
‘As you wish, my lady,’ I said, though I confess I didn’t really think it was such a terrific idea.
We navigated as much by instinct as knowledge, up the hill towards the only house that we judged grand enough to be the new home of a retired merchant. It was a moderately sized, square Georgian house, painted dazzling white and we approached the dark green door and tugged firmly on the bell-pull.
An elderly man in a slightly dated butler’s uniform opened the door and looked imperiously down at us.
‘Yes?’ he said, managing to draw the word out to much more than its natural length. ‘How may I help you?’
‘Good morning,’ said Lady Hardcastle, breezily. ‘Is Mr Snelson at home?’
‘I’m afraid the master is not at home, madam, no.’
‘No matter,’ she said, delving into her handbag for her silver card case. After a considerable amount of rummaging and some impatient muttering, she managed to find the case and triumphantly presented the ageing butler with her card.
‘Would you be so kind as to tell him I called,’ she said. ‘Perhaps I could call again? When might be convenient?’
He looked at the card and there was a slightly more deferential tone in his voice as he said, ‘I’m afraid I don’t know, my lady. He is… otherwise engaged and may be so for some time. I shall endeavour to encourage him to send you a note should he… return.’
‘Thank you,’ she said with a warm smile, ‘That would be most kind. Good day.’
He bowed slightly and closed the door.
‘Can’t blame the chap for not wanting visitors,’ she said as we made our way back down the hill to the green. ‘Village gossip moves at a terrifying pace. I think he’s wise to stay in his burrow for a while until the fuss dies down a little.’
As we walked home, we chatted inconsequentially, and Lady Hardcastle suggested the possibility of a drive in the new motorcar tomorrow if the weather held, but neither of us mentioned the haunting.
We ate a light lunch and I was just contemplating which chore I should undertake next, when the doorbell rang. To my immense surprise, it was Sergeant Dobson.
‘Good afternoon, Sergeant,’ I said as I opened the door. ‘How lovely to see you. To what do we owe the pleasure?’
‘Afternoon, miss,’ he said, touching the brim of his helmet with his forefinger. ‘Sorry to trouble you. Is your mistress at home?’
‘To you, Sergeant,’ I said, ‘she is always at home. Please come in.’ I stood aside and let him into the hall where he removed his helmet and I placed it on the table for him. I led him through to the dining room and invited him to sit while I fetched Lady Hardcastle from her study. For reasons I can no longer recall, we had agreed that the dining room was the best place to receive visitors. Perhaps we thought the drawing room too informal. I forget.
I knocked on the study door and poked my head round.
‘Sergeant Dobson to see you, my lady,’ I said.
She was sitting with her feet on her desk, reading a large, thick book. She took off her spectacles and sat up straight in her chair, swinging her legs off the desk as she did so.
‘I’m sorry, pet,’ she said. ‘I didn’t even hear the bell. Did he say what he wanted?’
‘No, my lady. I just put him in the dining room and came to fetch you.’
‘Right you are. Let’s go and find out, shall we?’
We walked through and I opened the door for her, following her in. The sergeant rose to his feet and inclined his head in greeting.
‘Good afternoon, Sergeant,’ said Lady Hardcastle, sitting down and motioning that he should also seat himself. ‘A pleasure as always.’
‘Afternoon, m’lady,’ said the sergeant with a smile.
‘What can we do for you? Is anything the matter?’
‘I’m not entirely sure, m’lady,’ he said, tugging thoughtfully on his impressive moustache. ‘See the thing is, I’ve been getting reports all day about certain events last night, and a number of enquiries as to what exactly we intends to do about it. And to tell the truth, I doesn’t have the first idea what to say, let alone what to do. I wondered if you might be able to shed some light on it, as ’twere. I gathers you were both there last night.’
‘At The Dog and Duck? Yes, we were. I hadn’t been keen, but Armstrong persuaded me. I’m rather glad she did now.’
‘Right,’ said the sergeant. ‘So what exactly went on? The things I’ve heard don’t make no sense. No sense at all.’
Between us we recounted the events of the previous evening and our visit to the pub that morning.
The sergeant sat for a while, frowning. ‘I’m still not sure it makes sense, m’lady,’ he said at length.
‘Nor to me, Sergeant,’ said Lady Hardcastle. ‘But that’s what we saw and heard. Have we left anything out do you think, Armstrong?’
‘No, my lady, that’s it, exactly as it happened,’ I said.
‘Well, now, you see, that puts me in rather a quandary,’ he said. ‘On the one hand, a most serious accusation has been made against Mr Snelson. On t’other, it’s been made by a ghost. I don’t pretend to know a great deal about the workings of the legal system, but I’d lay ten bob there i’n’t a court in the land as would prosecute a man on the say-so of a spirit.’
‘I think you’re right, sergeant,’ she said. ‘Have you tried talking to Mr Snelson?’
‘I just come from there, m’lady. He weren’t at home.’
‘No, nor when we went there earlier.’
‘You called on him?’
‘Yes, before lunch. I took his butler to mean that he wasn’t receiving callers, but if he won’t talk to you, perhaps he isn’t there at all.’
‘Couldn’t say, m’lady,’ said the sergeant. ‘I couldn’t get nothing out of the butler ’cept to be politely told to sling my hook.’
Lady Hardcastle laughed. ‘A butler of the old school, that one,’ she said. ‘What say we join forces again and Armstrong and I do a little snooping for you? We’ll try to dig up whatever we can about the mysterious Mr Nelson Snelson and you can reassure a worried public that the police has matters well in hand and that you’re doing all you can to get to the bottom of it. I’d like to know a little bit more about our mysterious medium, too. Do you know anything about Madame Eugénie?’
‘Not a thing, m’lady. She arrived a couple of days ago in a trap from the station, installed herself in The Dog and Duck and a’n’t been seen much since ’cept for last night’s performance.’
‘Hmm,’ said Lady Hardcastle. ‘Performance. Yes. Well, we’ll have to see what we can rootle out about her, too.’
‘Right you are, m’lady,’ said the sergeant, standing up. ‘I appreciates your help, I really does.’
‘Think nothing of it, sergeant,’ she said, with another of her room-illuminating smiles. ‘It’s fun to have a project.’
I showed the sergeant to the door, gave him his helmet, and sent him off with a cheery wave.