Page 35 of The Missing Maid
He shrugged. ‘She read about Mildred in the papers and came to see if she could help.’
The explanation only increased Harry’s confusion. Reformers tended to focus on conditions in general rather than the experience of individual prisoners, and the newspaper reports had given few details about Mildred’s family and certainly not their address. ‘Did she give her name?’ she asked. ‘Leave a card, perhaps?’
‘She called herself Mrs Jones,’ Esme said. ‘I don’t believe she gave us her card.’
It didn’t make sense, Harry thought, perplexed. Why should a prison reformer be interested specifically in Mildred Longstaff? ‘When was this?’
‘Thursday,’ Mrs Longstaff said.
‘And she turned up out of the blue?’ Harry pressed. ‘She didn’t write to make an appointment or introduce herself?’
‘Well, yes,’ Mr Longstaff said. ‘That is to say no, she didn’t write beforehand. But we thought nothing of that – she must have other families to visit.’
Harry thought of Holloway, with its many inmates. ‘Hundreds, I should think,’ she said slowly. ‘Tell me, what did she want to know?’
‘How Mildred seemed to be doing, if she had written with any complaints,’ Mr Longstaff said. ‘That’s when we showed her Mildred’s letters. Then she asked how she came to be in prison, and we saw no reason not to tell her the truth.’
Mrs Longstaff leaned towards Harry. ‘She was particularly pleased to hear that Mildred had a lawyer. She wanted to know how Mildred came to find him and who was paying for his services.’
An unsettling suspicion was forming in the pit of Harry’s stomach. ‘What did you tell her?’
‘Again, the truth,’ Mr Longstaff answered. ‘That Mr Fortescue had seen Mildred’s case in the newspapers and had offered to represent her free of charge.’
Harry exhaled. It was exactly the explanation Oliver had said he had given. ‘Of course.’
Mrs Longstaff smiled. ‘And naturally we mentioned Mr Holmes.’
Harry almost groaned. Why hadn’t she sworn them to secrecy from the very first? ‘Ah.’
‘Not by name,’ Esme hastened to put in. ‘I assumed, since he is in retirement, that he would not want to be inundated with fresh cases. We merely mentioned that the matter was being investigated by a great detective whose identity could not be divulged.’ She eyed Harry with some uncertainty. ‘Was that wrong?’
‘Not at all.’ Harry did her best to sound reassuring. ‘Would you be able to describe Mrs Jones for me?’
Esme looked thoughtful. ‘Blonde hair, not natural but fashionably styled. Fairly well spoken and smartly dressed, although I thought her red lipstick a little misplaced.’
‘I found her very striking,’ Mr Longstaff said, which earned him a glower from his wife.
‘How old would you say she was?’ Harry asked.
‘Mid-fifties,’ Mrs Longstaff said, with some feeling. ‘Perhaps even sixty.’
Mr Longstaff opened his mouth to argue, then appeared to think better of it. ‘Do you know her?’
A picture was forming in Harry’s mind. While it was true that many women had blonde hair, whether from a bottle or from nature, and plenty wore red lipstick, even during the day, she couldn’t help recalling her interview with Mrs Haverford. Could it be coincidence? The description was inconclusive and there was always the possibility that there really was a prison reformer called Mrs Jones. Even so, Harry’s suspicions were aroused. No matter which way she turned, it appeared everything led back to Mrs Haverford. ‘I don’t believe so,’ she told Mr Longstaff.
Esme was watching her carefully. ‘But there is such a thing as the Prison Reform Society and they do plan to help Mildred. Why else would Mrs Jones come all the way from London?’
‘Why indeed?’ Harry murmured. Her frowning gaze came to rest upon Mildred’s letters. ‘That last one – may I read it again?’
Wordlessly, Esme handed it over. There was something off-kilter about it, Harry thought as she pored over the words once more, and she didn’t think it was as obvious as Mildred losing her senses. The discrepancy became more pronounced when comparing it to the previous letters but Harry couldn’t put her finger on what exactly it was that was nagging at her. After a few more minutes, she gave the letter back to Esme. ‘I’ll see if I cancontact Mrs Jones,’ she said. ‘And of course Mr Fortescue and I will check on Mildred as soon as we can.’
‘Thank you,’ Esme said. ‘And thank you for taking the trouble to visit today. We appreciate your time.’
Once Harry had said goodbye to Mr and Mrs Longstaff, Esme showed her to the front door. With a backward glance as though fearful she might be overheard, she thrust Mildred’s most recent letter into Harry’s hands. ‘Seven, ten, six, nine, seven,’ she hissed.
‘Sorry?’ Harry said, unsure whether she had heard correctly.
‘The code,’ Esme whispered urgently. ‘Mildred and I used it when we were children. Apply it yourself and you’ll understand why I’m so afraid for her.’
