The door from the kitchen opened and Bethany put her head around the edge.

“Oh, oi'm sorry Mistress, oi 'eard voices. Oi din't know it were you.” She caught sight of the dishevelled form of Charlie Manston sitting at the table and she straightened up in sheer panic.

"Whoi's 'e 'ere?" she asked, her voice shaky.

I went quickly to her side, put my arm around her and told her not to be afraid.

"Sergeant Morgan will be here soon and we will hear what he has to say." I squeezed her shoulders. "Don't worry, Bethany. I do not think he is the one we need to find."

Her eyes narrowed to slits and her forehead creased into a frown.

“Oi see.” she replied slowly, “Oi'll be in the kitchen if you need me, Miss.”

“All right, Bethany,” I said gently. “Don't worry, we will get to the bottom of this.”

She gazed at me for a moment then smiled.

“All roight, Miss.” She nodded, then turned back and closed the door behind her as she returned to her chores.

Almost another hour passed before Melissa opened the opposite door. "Sergeant Morgan and a constable, Ma'am."

The Sergeant walked quickly past Melissa and took the chair proffered to him. "I got here as soon as I could, Lady Helen. I understand that we need to talk before I remove the suspect."

The Constable remained standing beside the door, his hands clasped behind his back.

"I told 'em, Officer, I din't do it!" Manston cut in.

"All right, Son, so I believe." Sergeant Morgan sat down. "So why should I believe you ?"

Charlie Manston repeated all the things he had told us and Doctor Harris confirmed his diagnosis of the hand injury.

"Well, now, all very interesting, my lad. So when did you last see the victim then?"

"Yesterday mornin', before I got the car ready."

"Before you took Sir Michael and the ladies into Ipswich?"

"Yeah, that's right," he confirmed "She was going to meet me after dinner, once I 'ad cleaned the car and put it in the garage, but she never showed... I suppose I know why now, then, don't I."

He hung his head, then suddenly sat up straight. "We need to find who did this to 'er." The anger was clear in his voice. "She were everything to me. I know it don't look like it an' I din't treat her right, but whoever did this won't get away with it if I 'ave anythin' t' do with it!"

The constable who, until then, had remained silent in the background, took a step towards him, but his superior stopped him with a wave of his hand.

"All right now, Son, we will. Let's keep calm and see if we can't get to the bottom of this."

Manston nodded and visibly relaxed.

Sargeant Morgan looked at his notes. "Lady Helen," he said after a moments thought, "Would it be possible to have the maid who found the victim come and join us? I would like to ask her a few questions."

I immediately arose from my own seat.

"I will get her," I said, walking towards the kitchen door.

"Now then, Young Lady," The Policeman began, once Bethany was seated beside me. "You found the deceased at..." he opened his pocket book and scanned the pages until he found what he was looking for. "...around eleven, you said."

He looked up for confirmation.

"That's roight, Sir., the young maid replied.

"And you, Son." He turned, next, to the soldier, "You looked for her about...?"

"'bout six thirty, I suppose." He seemed to be thinking carefully.' Hmm... Maybe seven. Took about an hour an' half to dust off the car and garage it."

"And you didn't find her..." Sergeant Morgan said half to himself, nodding with his hand on his chin. He looked up again. "Did you pass the coal store when you looked for her?"

"Passed it, yes," Manston replied, "But I din't look inside, why would I?"

"No, indeed not. Bethany. Was the door closed and locked when you went to get the coal?"

"Closed, Sir, yes, but it ain't got no lock on it," she said, puzzled.

"I see, so anyone could get in there at any time?"

"Yes, Sir. It just 'as a latch.".

Again, Sergeant Morgan consulted his pocket book. He rubbed his chin then looked up again and said, to no-one in particular:

"Too many fingerprints on the latch to identify any single person. I haven't heard about the necklace yet though."

"Necklace? What necklace?" Manston asked.

"I found Maggie's necklace on the drive last night," I told him. It must have been pulled off when whoever killed her took her to the coal store."

Manston frowned.

"Maggie ain't got no necklace!" he exclaimed, "She 'ated things round 'er neck. Made 'er itch she always said."

Sergeant Morgan suddenly became interested as I answered.

"Oh. I asked Melissa and she said it wasn't hers." I turned to Lady Helen but didn't say anything for fear that she didn't want her domestic arrangements becoming public knowledge.

"I don't recall having seen her wearing one," was all she replied.

"How sure are you it wasn't Maggie's, Son?" the sergeant enquired.

"Absolutely certain!" he replied. "She 'ated stuff like that, as I told you!"

Before anything further was said the door opened.

"Excuse me' Ma'am." It was Melissa who spoke. "There are some gentlemen here who would like to speak to Private Manston."

"And who might these gentlemen be, Melissa?"

As soon as the words had left Aunt Helen's lips, two serious looking soldiers entered the room without invitation. Their uniforms were immaculate and both wore caps with the peaks straight down in front of their eyes and a red band around.

"Pardon the intrusion, Ma'am," the first of the two spoke sharply. He was wearing three chevrond on his sleeve, indicating his ramk of sergeant. He held his head upright and his jaw was pushed forwards as he saluted swiftly and smartly.

Aunt Helen rose to her feet and I saw the strength return to her manner.

"And, what, Sergeant, is so important that you have to enter my home and interrupt an important meeting, without you even waiting to be invited?"

"Beg you pardon, Ma'am," The soldier repeated, "We are from the Military Police and we have been informed that you know the whereabouts of one Private Charles Manston."

At that point Sergeant Morgan also got to his feet.

"Detective Sergeant Arthur Morgan, Suffolk County Constabulary," he said.

"A pleasure, Sergeant. I'm sure but this is a military matter so, if you please..." The MP moved his arm in a gesture that indicated Sergeant Morgan should step aside. "On your feet, Private!" he barked

I just sat there, dumbfounded, mouth wide in surprise.

"How dare you come barging in here and behave in such a manner!" Aunt Helen stepped closer to him. "This is not an army barracks, Sergeant!" she hissed.

My chest swelled with pride in the way she was standing up to him.

"Kindly leave this room and wait outside."

"I am sorry, Ma'am but this is a serious business."

"Do I need to telephone the Major-General, Sergeant?" She looked him straight in the eye, but he neither flinched nor spoke.

I thought my heart would stop as I looked on in awe.

"Get out, now!" she shouted, her arm raised sideways and finger pointing towards the door. "Wait in the hallway until this matter is concluded."

The soldier pursed his lips and I could see the anger in his eyes as they flashed beneath the near vertical peak of his cap. Finally, he took a deep breath.

"Corporal!" he barked and tucked his pace stick under his arm. Together they turned on their heels and marched through the door which Melissa held open for them.

Lady Helen sat slowly back in her seat and breathed out. I myself had barely taken a breath whilst that had been going on.

I placed my hand upon hers and felt that she was trembling slightly.

She looked at me and smiled.

It was Charlie Manston who broke the silence.

"So what now?" he asked. "They will put me straight in Colchester."

Sergeant Morgan stood up.

"I think the best thing would be that you talk to them here, they cannot take you away until I release you," he turned to Lady Helen. "Do you have a room that is free from being overheard?"

"Yes," she said, "You can use the study. It has only one door."

"Excellent, Thank you, Ma'am." He turned then to Manston. "Come along then, Son. Lets go and see what we can do about the army."

They left the room and, together with the two military policemen and the constable, they followed Melissa down the hall.

The afternoon was passing quickly and, as there was no more to be done I decided I would visit Thomas again. The last thing I noted was the two military policemen disappear into the study and the door close quietly behind them.

On the way I met Sister Watson. She told me that he had fitted again and that I should wait until later before disturbing him.

In that case, I thought, I may as well go and sit in the garden and read for a while so I went to my room and collected my book from the bedside stand.

On a whim, I looked out into the courtyard. The afternoon sun was sinking lower into the sky and I looked across to where I had seen Charlie and Maggie a couple of nights previously.

The courtyard was still now, deserted. I sighed and began to turn away from the window and as I did I thought I saw a movement, almost out of sight, by the corner of the house.

I stared down at where I thought it was but there was nothing.

“Oh well,” I thought, “Just a trick of the light,” and turned away once again and left my room, closing the door behind me.

Back outside I walked slowly across the courtyard toward the lawns. My mind was turning the events of the past few days over and over and over. There must have been something to connect all the unusual things I had seen. I was certain that Charlie Manston had not killed Maggie but who had?

As I turned the corner I walked straight into someone who was bending right down, staring at the ground. I knocked him flying and dropped my book in surprise.

“Oh, I'm so sorry, Sir... Reverend Wallace!” I exclaimed. “What on earth where you doing down there?”

“Well don't just stand there gawping, young Lady, help me up!” he said abruptly as I reached out my hand.

He brushed it to the side and got himself up.

“What on earth were you thinking, walking into me like that? You should look where you are going. If you were one of the servants I should have you flogged!”

My eyes opened wide and my jaw dropped.

“Well, then, Reverend. ” I emphasised his title, “It is just as well that I am not one of the servants. How dare you threaten me in that way!”

He said nothing, but dusted himself off before standing erect and replacing his black hat on his head.

“What were you doing there anyway, skulking around the house?” I asked.

“I dropped something and was looking for it,” he replied tersely.

“Well then,” I replied, in an equally brusque fashion. “Instead of being angry with me, let me help you look. What did you lose?”

“Oh, erm...” he looked about the ground for a moment, “My spectacles.” he said, eventually.

I looked around momentarily and saw them on the gravel, close to where he had landed. I bent down, retrieved them and handed them to him.

“You should be more careful, Reverend,” I said, with more than a hint of sarcasm, “Someone could have trodden on them and broken them.”

“Ahem, hmm, yes, indeed... thank you.” He blustered and at that moment, his wife appeared from around the corner, saying, “Did you find it, Francis?”

She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw me, a look of alarm on her pretty face which began to glow bright pink.

“Hello, Marjory.” I smiled sweetly. “I just bumped into your husband. Quite literally!”

“Oh, erm, er, hello, Victoria...” she looked at her husband in what I thought was in a quite terrified manner.

“It's all right, My Dear,” he said, holding up his spectacles, “I have them. Young Victoria found them.”

“Ah, that is good.” she replied nervously but the relief showing clearly on her face, “He cannot read without them, you know, and he has a sermon to write.”

“I see. Are you all right, Marjory? You seem rather...”

“She is fine, Victoria,” Reverend Wallace interjected, “Just a little upset about the murder last night, as we all are.”

“Yes, I am sure.” I replied, but something was gnawing away inside my brain. I could not quite think what, but something.

“Well, we must be on our way, come along, Dear,” he said, taking his wife by the hand. “Please tell your Aunt to let me know about the arrangements when she is ready.”

“Arrangements?” I frowned.

“The interment,” he replied.

“Ah, the funeral, of course.” I understood now. “Yes, Reverend, I will.”

They walked quickly away, the Reverend almost dragging his wife behind him in his haste.

I watched them for a few minutes as they went in the direction of the gates then bent down to pick up my book, still laying where it had fallen.

I had taken no more than a few steps when I heard the sound of hobnail boots scrunching rhythmically on the gravel behind me and I turned and saw the two military policemen marching smartly towards me, arms swinging in time with their steps up to shoulder height. The Sergeant still had his pace stick tucked under his right arm and a grim look on his face.

I was horrified to see they had Charlie between them.

“Charlie!” I called out, but no answer was forthcoming as they marched swiftly around the corner of the house towards the main entrance.

I looked on in astonishment as, with a sharp order of command from the Sergeant, they smartly halted, bringing their right knees up to waist height and stamping their feet sharply down.

Then, upon the words, 'liiiift tahn', they all three turned sharply to the left and once again stamped their right feet onto the ground then walked quickly up the steps of the portico and disappeared inside.

I was baffled as to why they had taken Charlie into the main house. I thought that if they were arresting him they would have taken him 'straight to Colchester', as he had said, to the military prison there.

Once in the garden, I sat on the bench and tried to concentrate on my book but it just wasn't possible. I found myself reading the same lines over and again, without ever once knowing what was written in them.

Finally, I gave up, snapped the book shut and closed my eyes.

I must have drifted off to sleep for a few minutes for I awoke with a start at the sound of shouted orders.

I jumped up and ran to the archway and, shielding my eyes against the glare of the now low sun, I caught a glimpse of the two MP's and their charge as they climbed into an army truck and drove away.

"Damn it!" I thought. "They can't take him away!" I ran as fast as I possibly could back to the East Wing, hoping against hope that Sergeant Morgan was still there.

I should have taken more care but all I could think of was that if Private Manston was taken to Colchester then It would be even harder to find the real murderer.

The huge rug behind the front door slipped and I went over sideways onto the floor, my book flying out of my hand once again!

I screamed as I felt my wrist snap back against the hard wooden floor as I put my arm out to protect myself.

Moments later, the dining room door flew open almost at the same time as the study door further down the hallway.

Bethany came quickly to my side.

"Miss Victoria!" she cried, "You all Roight?" She quickly knelt beside me and helped me to sit up.

My wrist was throbbing terribly and I was afraid to move it.

Seconds later, Aunt Helen was also beside me.

"Victoria, What on earth did you do? Are you hurt?"

"Yes, no, ohhh... I don't know, it doesn't matter..." I wailed, I was so frustrated. "They took Charlie Manston away!"

"Who did, Sweetheart?" she asked, puzzled.

"Those army policemen who were here. I just saw them leave!"

"I don't think you did, Miss."

A voice from behind made me turn a little too quickly and I cried out again as I involuntarily moved my hand.

Charlie Manston was standing in the doorway, silhouetted by the fading afternoon sun, accompanied by Sergeant Morgan.

"What? Then who...? Owww." Bethany was looking at my wrist.

“Oh, oi'm sorry, Miss. Oi think you'd better see the doctor.” Her sweet face was a picture of concern. “It moight be broken.”

Aunt Helen and Bethany together helped me to stand and I looked again towards the door.

“But what happened?” I asked in general.

It was Arthur Morgan who satisfied my curiosity.

“Private Manston wasn't being charged with anything,” he said. “I asked the army to look into the ration problem, as you asked me to when you telephoned me. Because you told me who was driving the lorry then that was who they wanted to speak to.”

“I still don't understand, Sergeant.” My wrist was hurting so much now. The stabbing pains shooting up my arm was preventing me from thinking straight.

“Well,” he continued,”It transpired that they already knew that something was happening as they had been informed about the warehouse by my colleagues in uniform.” he indicated the policeman beside him. “They needed a witness to tie it all together and, although he didn't know it at the time, Charlie was, in fact, delivering stolen rations to a black market dealer. Once he told the MPs who gave him the orders they had all the evidence they needed.”

“Am I being stupid or something?” I asked, “But I still don't get it.”

“It were Captain Philpott, Miss.” Charlie joined in. “'e were moving food stuff to the warehouse on the pretence of storage.”

“Oh my gosh!, I see.” It was as though someone had suddenly switched the light on in my brain. “It was him they were taking away!”

“That's right, Miss. Probably why 'e were so keen to get me out the way earlier too.”

I clasped my hand to my mouth.

“Did he...?” I couldn't say the words.

“Sadly, no, Miss.” Sergeant Morgan anticipated the unasked question. “He was in the house all night. The other guard verified that.”

“So you still have no clues as to who killed Maggie?”

There was silence.

Finally, It was my aunt who spoke up.

“Leave no stone unturned Sergeant. We must find who did this terrible thing. My girls will help with anything they can, right Bethany?”

“Oh yes, Mistress, course we will!”

“Good. Now then, Sergeant, we will look in Maggie's room and Bethany, help Victoria to doctor Harris please.”

Bethany gave a little curtsy.

“Yes, Mistress.” She turned to me and said, “Now oi can look after you!” and her lips spread into the broadest smile I had ever seen.

To be continued...