“And see that everything’s tidied up and all the windows and doors are fast. I expect they are, but the women’ll rest better if they know he’s checked, personal like.”
Knox nodded his head. “Then ask him to come as soon as he’s done. In the meantime I’ll speak with Mrs. Millbridge here.”
“Yes, sir; thank you, sir,” the footman said gratefully, and went out, closing the door behind him.
Knox turned to the motherly woman. “Mrs. Quixwood stayed at home alone this evening. Why was that, do you know? And please give me the truth, ma’am. Being polite and discreet may not actually be the best loyalty you can give right now. I’m not going to tell other people anything I don’t have to. I have a wife and three daughters myself. I love them dearly, but I know they can have their funny ways—like all of us.” He shook his head. “Daughters, especially. I think I know them, then I swear they do some strange thing as has me completely lost.”
Mrs. Millbridge smiled very slightly, perhaps as much as she dared in the circumstances.
“Mrs. Quixwood wasn’t all that fond of parties,” she said quietly. “She liked music and the theater well enough. Loved some of the more serious plays, or the witty ones, like Mr. Wilde’s used to be.” She blinked, aware that since Oscar Wilde’s disgrace perhaps one shouldn’t admit to enjoying his work.
Knox was momentarily at a loss.
“So do I,” Narraway put in quickly. “His wit stays in the mind to be enjoyed over and over again.”
Mrs. Millbridge shot him a glance of gratitude, then turned her attention back to Knox.
“Did Mr. Quixwood often go to parties by himself?” he asked.
“I suppose, yes.” She looked anxious again, afraid that she might unintentionally have said the wrong thing.
Knox smiled at her encouragingly, the lines of weariness on his face momentarily disappearing. “So anyone watching the house, maybe with a mind to burgling it, might have noticed that she would be alone, after the servants had retired for the night?”
She nodded, her face pale, perhaps picturing someone waiting in the dark outside, watching for that moment. She gave a very slight shiver and her body remained rigid.
“On those nights, she wouldn’t have visitors?” Knox went on. “Not have a lady friend come over, for example?”
“No,” Mrs. Millbridge answered. “Nobody that I know of.”
“And would you know, ma’am?”
“Well … if she had someone visit her, she would want tea, at the very least, and perhaps a light supper,” she pointed out. “There would be someone to fetch that, and then wait to let the visitor out and lock up. That means at least one maid and one footman.”
“Indeed,” Knox said calmly. “And if she were to leave the house herself, then I suppose there would have to be a footman available to let her back in again. Not to mention perhaps a coachman to take her wherever she was going?”
“Of course.” Mrs. Millbridge nodded her head.
Narraway thought of the other alternative, that a man had visited her and she had let him in and out herself. Any refreshment he had taken would be a glass of whisky or brandy from the decanter in the study. However, he did not say so. The inspector would surely have thought of it also.
Knox left the subject of visitors. “What did Mrs. Quixwood like to do with her time?”
Mrs. Millbridge looked puzzled, and the anxiety was back again. She did not answer. Narraway wondered immediately what it was she feared. He watched Knox’s face, but had no idea what lay behind the furrowed brow and the sad downturn of the inspector’s mouth.
“Did she enjoy the garden, perhaps?” Knox suggested. “Maybe even direct the gardener about what to plant, and where?”
“Oh, I see,” Mrs. Millbridge said with relief. “Yes, she was interested in flowers and things. Often arranged them herself, she did. In the house, I mean.” For a moment there was life in her face again, as if she had allowed herself to forget why they were here. “Went to lectures at the Royal Horticultural Society now and then,” she added. “Geographical Society too. Liked to read about other places, even far-off ones, such as India and Egypt. She read about the people who used to live there thousands of years ago.” She shook her head in wonderment at such a fancy. “And the Greeks and Romans too.”
“She sounds like a very interesting lady,” Knox observed.
Mrs. Millbridge gulped and the tears spilled down her cheeks. Suddenly