Murder and Misdeeds Read Online Free PDF Page B

Regarding Susan, I have already milked Tobin dry. Otto continues to sleep it off. I have asked Tobin to send Mrs. Malboeuf to me when she finishes burning your toast and bacon. Ah, here she is now. Lucky you!” he added sotto voce, as a plate of scorched toast was slammed onto the table in front of Lady deCoventry.
    “Do yez want eggs?” the dame inquired in a bellicose voice.
    The woman was nothing else but a slattern. Her gray, flyaway hair was nominally held in place by a cap. Her apron, once white, looked as if an artist had used it to clean his brushes. It held all hues, from brown gravy splatters to berry juice to something vaguely green. Mold, perhaps. Her enormous bulk suggested that eating was her major function in the kitchen. Her heavy face was set in a mutinous expression, giving her the air of a bulldog.
    “No, thank you,” Corinne said, “but I would appreciate it if you would make up a bedroom for me.”
    Mrs. Malboeuf placed her hands on her battleship hips and said, “Dora is gone, isn’t she? How am I expected to clean the house and do the cooking?”
    “Gone where? Do you mean she disappeared with Miss Susan?” Corinne asked.
    “Gone two months ago. Run off to Burnham with one of the grooms from Slattery’s stables. She says they’re married. I hope it may be so, for the kiddie’s sake.”
    Corinne refused to follow up this teasing statement. “Why did you not replace her?”
    “I’m not the one holding the purse strings. Servants like to be paid,” was her curt reply.
    “And are you paid for your somewhat minimal services, Mrs. Malboeuf?” Luten inquired, with a civil smile.
    “I was, last quarter day.”
    “Then we can assume dire poverty is not the reason for the state of things here. That can wait until later, however. We want to ask you a few questions regarding your mistress’s disappearance.”
    “I already told Mr. Marchbank and repeated it to Hodden and Mr. Soames. She took her sewing basket out to the orchard right after lunch on Monday and never come back.”
    “How did she seem when she left? Did she behave in any unusual manner?” Corinne asked.
    Mrs. Malboeuf drew a sigh and stood, giving the  matter deep thought. “I thought it odd she wore her blue muslin,” she announced, after a long pause.
    Luten blinked in confusion. No color was so becoming to Susan’s blond hair and blue eyes. “Why did you find that odd?”
    “It was brand-new, wasn’t it? Why would she go to sit on the grass—and it had rained the night before, too—in her new gown? Plus she wore her pearls and new kid slippers. If you want my opinion, she was meeting someone. A man,” she added, to make her meaning perfectly clear. “And it wasn’t the first time she’d got herself all dolled up to go out to the orchard either. Made quite a habit of it since the weather hetted up.”
    “She took nothing with her but her sewing basket?” Luten asked.
    “She took a piece of plum cake on a plate. The plate was found, empty, though she told me earlier the plum cake was not to her liking. Pretty sharp about it being a little burnt on the bottom. That stove —”
    “Have you any idea who it was she met there?” Corinne asked hastily, to forestall a litany of complaints.
    “No. I haven’t time to go running after her. That’s not my job. With Dora gone and only Peg to help out, I’ve got my hands full and then some. You’ll find a man at the bottom of it, is all I’m saying. No good comes of a lady loitering about an apple orchard. Look at what happened to Eve.”
    “Surely you misconstrue the Bible, Mrs. Malboeuf,” Luten said. “It was Adam who was so heinously ruined by Eve in the Garden of Eden.”
    “That’s as may be. It’s Miss Enderton as is missing, not Adam. Aye, there was a serpent there waiting for her, mark my words. I’ve no use for an apple, tart it up as you might. I suppose you’ll be wanting linen for the beds?”
    “You spoil us, Mrs. Malboeuf,” Luten replied.