Read Online Mrs. Jeffries Rocks the Boat by Emily Brightwell - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Emily Brightwell
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the last train up last night. It was supposed to arrive at the station at midnight, but there was some trouble on the line and it didn’t get in till half past three. That was where the cabbie picked her up. He didn’t want to take her all the way over to Sheridan Square, but she offered to pay him double, being as it was in the middle of the night.”
“Gracious, you’ve learned far more than we’d hoped,” Mrs. Jeffries said.
Smythe grinned. “The cabbie were a bit of a talker but more importantly, so was Miss Daws. Seems she told him what she thought of British trains, British ships and British weather before she even got into the hansom. Didn’t like us much, that was fer certain. But that’s ’ow come he came to know the name of the ship and all. She was goin’ on a mile a minute about the ship being late, the train bein’ late and the air smellin’ to ’igh ’eaven.” He suddenly sobered. “I know we’ve learned a lot. Now I want to know ’ow we’re goin’ to get this information to the inspector. It’s not like you can drop a few ’ints and ’ave ’im suss out what you’re goin’ on about.”
“I know,” Mrs. Jeffries murmured thoughtfully. “We do seem to have a problem. But we’ll think of something; we always do. In the meantime, there’s no time to lose.” She hesitated for a brief moment. “I know it’s late, but do you think you can take the carriage and get to Southampton tonight? I think it’s imperative that we find out who else might have been on that ship with Mirabelle Daws.”
“That’s not goin’ to be easy,” Luty put in. “The ship come in yesterday. Most people don’t hang around that long. They git on about their business and go home.”
“But the crew’s still there,” Hatchet said gleefully. “Surely there’s a porter or a steward who’ll be able to help us.” He rose to his feet. “If it’s all right with madam, I’d like to accompany Smythe. The two of us can cover far more territory together than apart.”
Luty snorted derisively. “Since when have you ever asked my permission to do anything? But I’d like to go with ya…” her voice trailed off as everyone at the table protested at the same time. She glared at all of them. “You all think I’m too old to be gallavantin’ out at night having adventures, do ya?”
“No, Luty, of course not,” Mrs. Jeffries said soothingly. But, of course, that’s precisely what they thought. “We simply think you’d better stay here and help the rest of us comeup with a plausible way to get the information we received to the inspector. You’ve a much better imagination than I have. All I can come up with is the same silly old idea I always have, an anonymous note.”
Luty eyed the housekeeper suspicously for a few moments. “You sure you ain’t just sayin’ that cause you think I’m too old?”
“We’re all gettin’ old,” Mrs. Goodge interrupted. “But that’s not why we want you to stay. Like Mrs. Jeffries says, we’ve got some hard thinkin’ to do, and your mind is sharp as one of my best kitchen knives. Now sit down, drink your tea and let’s get these men out of here so we women can have a good think on how to get us out of this mess. And don’t think it’s not a right old mess, because it is. We’re honor bound to give the inspector the woman’s name, but I, for one, don’t want him gettin’ any more suspicious about us than he already is.”
“Does that mean I ought to go too?” Wiggins asked eagerly. “I’m one of the men. With the three of us, we could cover even more territory.”
“I reckon I ought to stay then.” Luty leaned back in her chair. “I do have an idea or two about how we can let the inspector know who the woman was. Like Mrs. Goodge says, we don’t want him gettin’ any ideas about us. No offense meant, Hepzibah, but you’re right, that anonymous note trick is wearin’ thin.”
They’d used it several times before in their
“Gracious, you’ve learned far more than we’d hoped,” Mrs. Jeffries said.
Smythe grinned. “The cabbie were a bit of a talker but more importantly, so was Miss Daws. Seems she told him what she thought of British trains, British ships and British weather before she even got into the hansom. Didn’t like us much, that was fer certain. But that’s ’ow come he came to know the name of the ship and all. She was goin’ on a mile a minute about the ship being late, the train bein’ late and the air smellin’ to ’igh ’eaven.” He suddenly sobered. “I know we’ve learned a lot. Now I want to know ’ow we’re goin’ to get this information to the inspector. It’s not like you can drop a few ’ints and ’ave ’im suss out what you’re goin’ on about.”
“I know,” Mrs. Jeffries murmured thoughtfully. “We do seem to have a problem. But we’ll think of something; we always do. In the meantime, there’s no time to lose.” She hesitated for a brief moment. “I know it’s late, but do you think you can take the carriage and get to Southampton tonight? I think it’s imperative that we find out who else might have been on that ship with Mirabelle Daws.”
“That’s not goin’ to be easy,” Luty put in. “The ship come in yesterday. Most people don’t hang around that long. They git on about their business and go home.”
“But the crew’s still there,” Hatchet said gleefully. “Surely there’s a porter or a steward who’ll be able to help us.” He rose to his feet. “If it’s all right with madam, I’d like to accompany Smythe. The two of us can cover far more territory together than apart.”
Luty snorted derisively. “Since when have you ever asked my permission to do anything? But I’d like to go with ya…” her voice trailed off as everyone at the table protested at the same time. She glared at all of them. “You all think I’m too old to be gallavantin’ out at night having adventures, do ya?”
“No, Luty, of course not,” Mrs. Jeffries said soothingly. But, of course, that’s precisely what they thought. “We simply think you’d better stay here and help the rest of us comeup with a plausible way to get the information we received to the inspector. You’ve a much better imagination than I have. All I can come up with is the same silly old idea I always have, an anonymous note.”
Luty eyed the housekeeper suspicously for a few moments. “You sure you ain’t just sayin’ that cause you think I’m too old?”
“We’re all gettin’ old,” Mrs. Goodge interrupted. “But that’s not why we want you to stay. Like Mrs. Jeffries says, we’ve got some hard thinkin’ to do, and your mind is sharp as one of my best kitchen knives. Now sit down, drink your tea and let’s get these men out of here so we women can have a good think on how to get us out of this mess. And don’t think it’s not a right old mess, because it is. We’re honor bound to give the inspector the woman’s name, but I, for one, don’t want him gettin’ any more suspicious about us than he already is.”
“Does that mean I ought to go too?” Wiggins asked eagerly. “I’m one of the men. With the three of us, we could cover even more territory.”
“I reckon I ought to stay then.” Luty leaned back in her chair. “I do have an idea or two about how we can let the inspector know who the woman was. Like Mrs. Goodge says, we don’t want him gettin’ any ideas about us. No offense meant, Hepzibah, but you’re right, that anonymous note trick is wearin’ thin.”
They’d used it several times before in their
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