Into the Valley of Death by Evelyn Hervey

Author:Evelyn Hervey [Hervey, Evelyn]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: mystery, detective, cozy, historical, women sleuths
ISBN: 9781448202898
Publisher: Bloomsbury Publishing
Published: 2011-12-19T17:15:11+00:00

11

It did not take Vilkins long to put a few clothes into a basket while Miss Unwin went to Mrs. Steadman and explained why she was going to deprive her of the help General Pastell had so kindly sent to her. The two of them reached the station in good time for the midday train to London.

On the platform, Miss Unwin gave her deputy investigator final instructions.

“Vilkins, dear, are you sure you can remember every name on that list?”

She had handed Vilkins the list of names that the housekeeper at the Hall had given her and had carefully read it to her three times over.

“Oh, yes, Unwin. I’ll remember, don’t you fret. Not knowing ’ow to read’s a great ’elp, you know. An’ besides, I can read, a bit.”

“Well, if you are sure …”

Miss Unwin thought that, despite her friend’s somewhat muddled logic, there was a good deal of truth in what she had said. People who could not read often had remarkable memories. Vilkins was quite likely to have been able to commit to mind all the names and ranks of the officers who had attended General Pastell’s ball. Among them, since “the whole county” had been invited, there ought to be the man who had killed Alfie Goode and would have killed Jack Steadman on Friday morning.

“And you’ll do it all as quickly as ever you can?”

“I told you already, didn’t I? I don’t want to see poor Mrs. Steadman the morning ’er Jack’s topped, no more than what you do.”

“Yes, yes. You’re quite right, dear. It’s only that time is so short, and I hate having to put such a difficult task into your hands. But I cannot leave Chipping Compton. Mr. Heavitree and I have to play out our comedy with Arthur Burch tonight.”

“No, I knows that, Unwin, and you can trust— Oh, gorblimey! ’Ere’s the blessed train.”

Round a curve in the gleaming rails there came, snorting and grinding, the express that in the space of less than two hours would take Vilkins to the metropolis and her meetings with copying clerks from the War Office.

“Goodbye, dear. Goodbye and the best of luck,” Miss Unwin said as the steam monster came to a halt.

She bundled Vilkins into a third-class carriage—she had offered her a second-class ticket, but Vilkins would have none of it—and saw her safely place her basket on the rack above her seat. The station porter came along the platform cheerfully banging closed any open doors. The train guard blew his whistle and waved his green flag. The wheels of the long express began slowly to turn, and the great monster was off on its journey.

When it comes back, Miss Unwin thought, will it bring Vilkins triumphant with some link between Corporal Jack Steadman and one of the military gentlemen at General Pastell’s ball? Will she find one? Or will she have to return defeated?

She herself left the station and set off at once down into the valley in the direction of the Hall.

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