Page 9 of Marriage and Murder
Barnaby rose and headed for the bellpull. “I’ll get Mostyn to send one of the footmen for your bag. White’s, I think you said?”
Henry looked from Barnaby to Penelope, then back again. “Thank you. Staying here would be most welcome.”
Barnaby smiled and tugged the bellpull.
When Barnaby finished giving Mostyn the required orders, Stokes rose. “I’ll send O’Donnell and Morgan down with the police coach. That way, we’ll have two conveyances at our disposal.”
Everyone agreed that was a wise idea, and while Penelope, Barnaby, and Henry accompanied Stokes into the front hall, they finalized their plan to drive directly to Salisbury, where Henry had left his curricle in a stable near the railway station. Before parting from them, Henry would direct them to the police station, then collect his curricle and drive home to Glossup Hall.
Stokes nodded. “So”—he looked at Barnaby and Penelope—“from Salisbury, I’ll send O’Donnell and Morgan on in the police coach to secure rooms for us all at the inn. Meanwhile, we’ll make ourselves known to the Superintending Constable,extract all the evidence we can from him, then follow the others to Tollard Royal.”
“If we leave at six,” Barnaby said, “we should be able to reach Salisbury by noon—at least, our carriage should.”
“That will work.” Stokes accepted his hat from Mostyn and set it on his head. “The murder was committed last Thursday afternoon, and it’s already Monday. I’d like to get to Ashmore in time to inspect the cottage and get some idea of its surrounds before the light fails.”
“We might even get a chance to conduct a few interviews,” Penelope put in.
“We can certainly hope.” Stokes nodded in farewell to them all. “And now, I’m off to break the news to my dear wife that I’ll be going out of town.”
“Indeed.” Penelope caught his eye. “And please tell her that even though I’ll be going with you, I hope her planned visit with your little ones on Wednesday will still go ahead. Our two are so looking forward to it, and I’m sure Megan will be, too.”
Stokes tapped his hat. “I’ll convey that message.” Mostyn opened the door, and Stokes walked out, calling over his shoulder, “And I’ll see you all bright and early tomorrow morning.”
Barnaby and Penelope laughed, and even Henry chuckled.
Then Mostyn closed the door, and they turned back toward the drawing room.
Penelope looped her arm in Henry’s. “Now, Henry dear, I’ve never been to Ashmore village. I need you to describe it to me. In detail.”
Barnaby smiled and followed the other two into the drawing room.
By the time the Adairs’ coach drew up to the curb in Salisbury, Penelope was more than ready to get out and stretch her legs. As planned, they’d set out from Albemarle Street at six o’clock and had caught up with the police wagon, which must have left Scotland Yard in the middle of the night, just outside Salisbury.
Stokes descended from the carriage first, followed by Barnaby, who reached back and offered Penelope his hand. She took it and climbed down the steps, then moved aside to allow Henry to join them.
As curious as ever, Penelope looked around. She’d never visited Salisbury before. From what she’d seen on their way into the town’s center, the layout was typical of larger provincial towns that had grown up around a central market square, with a castle in one direction and, in this case, the famous cathedral some way to the south. She could just spot the spire in the distance, rising above the city’s rooftops against a hazy blue-gray sky.
The street they were in was called Endless Street, and despite the name, a short way away, the southern end gave onto one corner of the market square. According to Henry, the solid, squat redbrick building before which they stood was the main office of the Salisbury City Police.
The police coach from Scotland Yard, with Sergeant O’Donnell on the box seat and Constable Morgan beside him, drew up behind the carriage. With the conveyances one behind the other, the contrast between the sleek, well-sprung modern traveling carriage and the much older, smaller, cramped, and dumpy black coach was stark. It was entirely unsurprising thatStokes had elected to join Barnaby, Penelope, and Henry in the traveling carriage.
“Let me get my bag.” Henry suited action to the words and, half a minute later, returned to where Stokes, Barnaby, and Penelope were waiting. “I’ll leave you here, then.” Henry nodded at the police station. “As I mentioned, the man in charge is Superintending Constable Mallard.” Henry paused, then added, “I’ve always found him to be a decent sort, but he can be stubborn.”
“We’ll speak with him,” Stokes said, “and see what he can tell us, then head down to Ashmore.” He looked up at O’Donnell and Morgan, who’d remained on the box of the police coach. “You two can drive directly to Tollard Royal and hire rooms for all of us at the King John Inn.”
“One moment.” Barnaby turned to look up at their coachman, Phelps, and the groom-cum-guard, Connor, who was seated alongside. “Connor, you might as well go with O’Donnell and Morgan. You know what Mrs. Adair and I require by way of rooms, and you can also arrange for a private parlor for our party.”
“Yes, sir.” Connor readily climbed down from the carriage, walked back to the coach, and swung up to the bench at the coach’s rear.
“Right, then.” O’Donnell saluted them all with his whip, then shook the reins, and the coach slowly lumbered off down the street, continuing toward the market square.
Henry hefted his bag. “I’ll be off.” He tipped his head in the opposite direction. “The stable I use is nearer the station.”
“One last thing.” Stokes focused on Henry. “I realize you have to drive through Ashmore village to reach Glossup Hall, but for the moment, it would be helpful if you would avoid spending time in the village and not speak to anyone about the caseuntil we’ve had a chance to get there and assess the situation firsthand.”
Penelope put it more bluntly. “In other words, until we’ve learned what people can tell us without them being reminded of your involvement or, indeed, of the past.”
Barnaby added, “We don’t want them speculating or inventing things to be interesting.”
