Mrs. Jeffries Wins the Prize by Emily Brightwell

plenty in London that would snatch her up in a second—”
    Barnes interrupted the steady stream of words. “Miss Pooley, Peggy, how long have you worked here?”
    Peggy didn’t so much as pause for breath. “A year, sir.I used to work for Mrs. Stanway but I come here when Mrs. Rayburn hired Mrs. Wickham to be the cook. Mrs. Rayburn pays better, you see, and Mrs. Wickham told her she’d not come unless I got a position, too. Truth to tell, sir, Cook is my mother’s first cousin and she looks out for me.”
    â€œSo Mrs. Wickham has only been here a year as well?” He made a mental note to interview her next.
    â€œThat’s right, sir.”
    â€œAnd you both used to be employed by Mrs. Stanway?” he clarified.
    She nodded. “Then Mrs. Rayburn offered us positions and we come here. Mrs. Stanway was bit put out when we give notice but there wasn’t much she could say, was there. She couldn’t afford to match the pay Mrs. Rayburn was offering.”
    â€œDid you see anyone hanging about the area earlier today?” he blurted out. Interesting as these domestic details might be, they had happened over a year ago and probably had nothing to do with the murder. “Anyone who looked suspicious.”
    â€œNo, sir, but then I wasn’t looking.”
    â€œI understand that Mr. Filmore supplied Mrs. Rayburn with all her plants, is that correct?”
    â€œNot all of them, sir, only the fancy ones, the orchids and the ones for the greenhouse. They’re the ones that Mrs. Rayburn likes to show off to the other ladies. The ones out in the garden proper come from Bennington’s out on Wood Lane—they’re a big nursery that everyone ’round here uses.”
    Barnes nodded. “My wife buys from them as well. Now, what can you tell me about Mr. Filmore?”
    â€œNot much, sir. He didn’t have naught to do with us when he came here. Sometimes he’d speak to Mrs. Clemment. But he never spoke to me.”
    â€œThen I suppose you wouldn’t know where his place of business might be?”
    â€œBut I do, sir.” She grinned proudly. “I don’t know the exact address, but I know it’s in Hammersmith on Ridley Road.” She giggled, revealing a set of surprisingly straight, white teeth. “Last time he was here, the mistress was complaining about how long she’d been waiting for him. I overheard him telling her it was a long way between here and Ridley Road, and what’s more, if she didn’t like the way he did business, he’d be happy to take his specimens elsewhere.”
    *   *   *
    Upstairs, Inspector Witherspoon was getting a headache, but that didn’t keep him from giving his subordinate a grateful smile. “Thank you, Constable Griffiths, I’ll be right out. Can you go downstairs and ask Constable Barnes to meet me in the conservatory?”
    â€œYes, sir,” he said before shutting the door.
    â€œWhat do you need to do in the conservatory?” Helena Rayburn demanded.
    â€œWe’ll be searching it, ma’am,” he told her.
    She got up from the sofa. “I insist on being present, Inspector.”
    Witherspoon hesitated. Though it wasn’t strictly against procedure, he didn’t like the idea. “I’m afraid that wouldn’t be wise, Mrs. Rayburn. There might be important clues in the area—”
    â€œI don’t care,” she interrupted. “It’s my property, andas far as I can tell, you’ve no sort of warrant to search my property. You’ve no right to keep me out.”
    â€œWe’re not trying to keep you out, ma’am, we’re trying to investigate a murder, and we have both the obligation and the right to search the premises,” he argued.
    â€œAgain, I don’t care a fig for your rights or obligations.” She crossed her arms over her chest and fixed him with a hard stare.