Free Mrs. Jeffries Forges Ahead by Emily Brightwell Page B

the morning? It is very late.”
    He shook his head and stretched as he moved toward the hallway. “No, get me up at my usual time. We’ve much to do tomorrow and Constable Barnes will be here to fetch me just after breakfast.”
     
    A mug of steaming hot tea was sitting at his spot at the table when Constable Barnes came into the kitchen behind Mrs. Jeffries.
    “We thought you’d like something to drink before you and the inspector got about your business,” the cook said.
    When they were on a murder case, Barnes always stopped and had a quick chat with the housekeeper and cook. He’d learned he could trust them with information and, more important, the household had a knack for hearing gossip, facts, and speculations that a copper wouldn’t. They passed what they’d learned to him and oftentimes it was these small bits and pieces that enabled the case to be solved.
    Barnes grinned broadly and sat down. “Thank you, ladies. I don’t have much to tell you as yet—the case has barely started—but we did learn a few interesting facts.” He glanced at the housekeeper. “I take it you had a word with Lady Cannonberry?”
    “She came by and told us what she knew,” Mrs. Jeffries confirmed. “And I had a quick word with the inspector when he came home.”
    “Then it sounds as if you know the basics,” he said. “But I did find out something interesting from Geraldine Banfield. It seems she wasn’t all that happy to have Arlette come into the family and marry up with her nephew.” He gave them the particulars of his interview with the woman.
    “Good for Lewis Banfield,” Mrs. Goodge exclaimed. “He did right in making it clear they couldn’t snub her.”
    “It doesn’t sound as if she much cared whether they accepted her or not,” Mrs. Jeffries murmured.
    “Before Lewis Banfield married, it was Geraldine that ran the household.” He took a sip from his mug.
    “Being displaced could be a motive for murder,” the cook muttered. “I once worked at a household where the old mistress locked herself in the wine cellar with all the household keys rather than hand them over to the young master’s new bride.”
    “But Lewis Banfield told the inspector that his wife frequently deferred to his aunt in household matters,” Mrs. Jeffries added.
    “My instincts are that they didn’t like each other very much, despite what Mr. Banfield may have thought. I’m going to be interviewing the servants today,” Barnes said. “We’ll see what they say about the relationship between the two women. So far, all we know is that Geraldine Banfield is a snob, not a killer. There’s no evidence that she had anything to do with the murder, and she was sitting across the room when Arlette was poisoned. So she couldn’t have added anything to the woman’s drink. But it’s early days yet and we’ve a long way to go.”
    They heard footsteps clomping down the back stairs.
    “That must be Phyllis,” Mrs. Jeffries murmured. They’d still not decided what to do about her. “Wiggins is out. We sent him to fetch Luty and Hatchet.”
    Barnes drained his mug and stood up. “I’ll be in again tomorrow morning and we’ll trade information,” he whispered as the maid came into the kitchen.
    The maid stopped at the entryway and blinked in surprise. “Good morning, Constable.” Phyllis was as plump as a pigeon and had a round face, brown eyes, and blonde hair tucked up in a neat bun under her cap. She had a porcelain complexion and a straight nose, and she wore a pale lavender maid’s dress covered with a white apron.
    “Good morning,” he replied.
    She gave him a curious glance as she continued on toward the pine sideboard.
    “Is the inspector up yet?” Mrs. Jeffries asked.
    “Yes. I was going to take his tea up to the dining room.” She opened the bottom cupboard, leaned down, and pulled out a wooden tray.
    “Take an extra cup for the constable,” Mrs. Jeffries said. “Have you had breakfast, Constable?” she