Free Damsel in Distress by Carola Dunn Page A

nearby, within a few miles.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œSimply because they dropped you off here after snatching you not far away. It would make less than no sense to bring you back to the same area from a distance. Was the van plain, or did it have a tradesman’s name on it?”
    â€œIt had a butcher’s name painted on the side.”
    â€œWhat name? Was it a local firm? We might be able to trace it.”
    â€œNo address. The name began with P, I think. Potter, Parslow, Paget … Ah, I have it: Ferris, or maybe Farris.”
    â€œNever heard of him,” Daisy said, disappointed. “Not local, then, though the police might be able to trace it.”
    â€œNo! Besides, they could easily paint over the words.”
    â€œI suppose so. It was a long shot at best. You said the van driver sounded Cockney.”
    â€œYes, definitely, and so were the others.”

    Daisy perked up. He hadn’t mentioned the accents of the other men before. “All of them?” she asked eagerly.
    â€œAll those I heard talking.” Phillip was puzzled. “What difference does it make?”
    â€œFor a start, Londoners don’t understand the countryside. Imagine being used to the East End, all the back-to-back buildings, people swarming everywhere. A few streets away you’re in a completely different district where no one will recognize you.”
    â€œBy Jove, so they may have thought they’d taken me a long way!”
    â€œQuite possibly. Besides, this must seem like a desert to them. I shouldn’t be surprised if they left you under that hedge half expecting you’d never be found. They may have regarded it as a compromise between disobeying the Yank and actually doing you in.”
    â€œThey didn’t sound at all keen on actually doing me in. The one who hit me boasted of his skill at knocking people out without killing them.”
    â€œIt’s the Yank we really have to worry about, but the others may lead us to him, or to Gloria. Even if they’ve laid in supplies, you can bet they’ll be popping into the nearest village for cigarettes or a pint. With Cockney accents they’ll stand out like a sore thumb.”
    â€œWon’t they realize that?” Phillip suggested dubiously.
    â€œI doubt it. We had lots of Cockneys in the military hospitals in Malvern during the War. If they paid any attention at all to how people spoke, they tended to think they were normal and everyone else talked ‘funny.’ Whereas country people notice like a shot when they hear an accent that’s not local.”
    Phillip grinned. “Anyone from more than ten miles off is a furriner.”
    â€œExactly. Of course, the Yank might warn the men.”

    â€œHe may not even have noticed their accents. Gloria said we all sound plain British to her.”
    â€œThat’s a point! I suppose their boss really is an American, by the way? It could be just a nickname, we have no way of knowing.”
    â€œHe wants the ransom half in pounds, half in dollars. Arbuckle showed me the note.”
    Frowning, she refilled their cups and helped herself to yet another tart. “He’s probably American, then, unless he’s an Englishman planning to do a flit. It’s more of an American sort of crime. I wonder if it’s just for money, or does Mr. Arbuckle have enemies?”
    â€œHe said not. Daisy, what’s the point of all these questions? I want to do something, not sit here chatting and scoffing pastries.”
    â€œIf I’ve learnt anything from Alec,” Daisy said severely, “it’s the importance of seemingly unimportant details. I’ve already dragged a whole lot of helpful stuff out of you that you didn’t bother to mention. There could be more.”
    â€œOh, right-ho,” he said, abashed. “If it’s helping you decide what to do, fire away.”
    â€œI still think the best thing to do is to tell Alec