Page 40 of The Missing Maid
Harry studied it thoughtfully, taking in the set expressions and proud tilt of the women’s heads. Mildred had been too afraid to reveal much about her attacker but what if she had tried to give clues? The football hint was one – what else had she said? Nothing of any note. The flowers had been an arresting sight, which was an odd way to put it but she’d begun to ramble towards the end. Except – Harry almost snapped her fingers – what if she hadn’t been rambling? What if she had been speaking in code? ‘Tell me,’ she said casually, even though her heart was suddenly racing. ‘Are any of your players called Rose?’
Bridget’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Yes, as a matter of fact that’s our goalkeeper’s name. Rose Blackburn. She’s very good.’
‘I’m sure she is,’ Harry replied. ‘I imagine she has a good strong kick, too.’
‘She does,’ Bridget agreed, then frowned and appeared to recollect herself. ‘But as pleasant as this is, I didn’t invite you here to discuss our football team. Oliver, I want you to know that I’m taking this matter extremely seriously. If you learn anything from Mildred, you must bring it straight to me. Do you understand?’
Oliver nodded. ‘Of course, Bridget. I’m still hopeful I can clear Mildred’s name.’
Harry watched the older woman carefully. Was it strange that she insisted Oliver bring the name of Mildred’s attacker to her instead of the police? It was hard to tell. ‘I know you will,’ Bridget said. ‘Having talked to the girl myself, I find it hard to believe she’s anything more than an innocent caught up in someone else’s crime but of course we must all follow the evidence.’
Her gaze strayed to Harry then, still beside the framed photographs, and seemed to linger on her with cool interest. Harry returned her gaze with inquisitiveness of her own. Was Bridget Short a kindly professional who simply wanted the best for the women under her care? she wondered. Or was there a cold heart lurking beneath her spinsterish appearance?
‘Thank you for your time, Bridget,’ Oliver said. ‘I’ll be sure to let you know if we uncover anything.’
‘Give my regards to your parents,’ Bridget replied. She turned a shrewd gaze upon Harry. ‘And it was a pleasure to meet you, Miss?—’
‘Wilson,’ Harry said, without missing a beat. ‘Good to meet you too.’
Harry didn’t speak until they were outside the vast door of the prison. Dusk had turned to night while they had been inside,shrouding the turrets and crenellations in heavy black shadow. She glanced up and shivered. ‘Mildred is not safe in there.’
Oliver bowed his head. ‘I know.’
‘At least she told us who did this to her,’ Harry went on. ‘I’d bet my inheritance that Rose Blackburn is connected to Dora and Mrs Haverford.’
He frowned. ‘Who is Rose Blackburn? Not the goalkeeper Bridget mentioned?’
‘Exactly her,’ Harry said with satisfaction. ‘Don’t you see? Mildred told us her name without seeming to. Even from a hospital bed, she’s a smart girl.’
‘I don’t follow,’ Oliver said, firing a confused look her way.
Harry shook her head impatiently. ‘First of all, she said her assailant had a strong kick. And then she mentioned howarrestingthe flowers were at her parents’ house. I thought her mind was wandering but she was actually giving us the second clue.’ She smiled at him. ‘The only things I noticed growing when I visited the Longstaffs were the roses around the front door. And that’s what Mildred was counting on, along with the odd use of the word arresting.’
Oliver considered this. ‘You might be right. I can certainly look into this Blackburn woman, find out what she was put away for.’
‘You can,’ Harry agreed. ‘But that doesn’t help Mildred now – her life is hanging in the balance. She said her enemies have eyes everywhere and that means we can’t trust anyone. Not even your friend the deputy governor.’
He opened his mouth to speak but Harry held up a hand. ‘I mean it, Oliver. The only person I trust right now is you. Next time, they might kill Mildred. I’m done waiting for the authorities to do their jobs. It’s time we took matters into our own hands and solved this case once and for all.’
‘Harry—’
‘No!’ she snapped, rounding on him. ‘The answer has been staring us in the face for weeks. We don’t need to catch the entire gang; we only need to find the girl, Dora, and confront her with everything we know.’
Oliver growled in frustration. ‘This isn’t a crime novel, Harry. If Dora is truly a hardened criminal then she’ll laugh in our faces and I can’t say I’d blame her.’
Harry folded her arms. ‘Then we bring her in ourselves. Let the police deal with her.’
He stared at her, ashen-faced. ‘You can’t be serious.’
‘I am,’ she insisted. ‘And if you won’t come with me, I’ll go to Tea Cutter Row on my own and wait all night if I have to.’ Harry took a deep uneven breath and met his incredulous gaze. ‘This ends tonight, Oliver. Are you with me or not?’
There was a long silence. Then Oliver groaned. ‘I can’t believe I’m agreeing to this.’
‘We have to do it before it’s too late,’ Harry urged. ‘There’s no other way we can prove Mildred’s innocence in time.’
He ran a hand across his face. ‘Fine. If we have to. So what’s the plan – we turn up there and knock on the front door, demand to speak to Dora?’
‘Of course not – that would be suicide,’ Harry snorted. ‘We’ll go in disguise.’
