Bettermans house – the investigation begins chapter 7
Constable Jones remained at the foot of the stairs waiting for Mrs. Young to descend to the main floor. He would need to question the lady's maid of the dead woman to try and ascertain as to when she had last seen her employer alive. He would also need to speak to all of Mrs. Young's staff. And oh – yes – he needed to determine if there was a Mr. Jansen and, if so, – where could he be reached?
With a heavy sigh he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. His boots were tight and it had been a long night, circling the various streets on his beat. If he had only he had made it to Bow street afore the confounded dead woman had been found he would already be on his way home to a hot cuppa tea, and one of his land lady's fine jam rolls and Stevenson would be dealing with this … mess.
His cheeks flushed with embarrassment at the remembrance of that luckless young female sprawled on the floor with barely a bed sheet covering her. Come to think of it, why had she been there anyway? He thought Mrs. Young said her scullery maid had discovered the dead women when she encountered him at the end of the road. Blast! Why had he dawdled at 34 – street hoping to catch a glimpse of the handsome housekeeper there. Another blush. Jones tugged at his moustache as he wondered for not the first time whether the lovely fair haired housekeeper at number 34 was married or not. Would she consider walking out with him on her day off, he asked himself for not the first time.
A gentle cough brought the constable back to the present and his head swiveled towards the owner of the light sound.
"Mrs. Young?"
"Yes?"
"I need to ask yer a few questions if yer don't mind. The magistrate will want as many details as I can possibly muster this morning. But first if yer could perhaps send one of your servants with a note ta #4 requesting that the Magistrate send the beadle ta assist me with my investigation I'd be much obliged. No doubt they'll be wantin' an inquest.
Mrs. Young paled considerably at the thought of an inquest but hopeful she could convince the magistrate to not hold it within her establishment she simply replied: "Certainly Constable. I do not engage a large household but I do have a man on the premise – he does not live in but he should be in the kitchen by now. If you will excuse me I will just step into the kitchen and suggest he run to #4 with your request."
"Very good – but before yer do, did the dea, err the … the lady in question have a ladies maid?"
"Yes, she did. She slept in the attics with my scullery maid and should also be in the kitchen. Cook was brewing her hot cup of tea – this was a huge shock to her. "
"Yes, yes – of course it would be – errr, I will need ta question her as well."
"Of course, Constable. Please sit in the breakfast room, there is fresh coffee and rolls in there and you may help yourself while I step into the kitchen. That is probably the best place for you to conduct your questioning. Normally I would invite you to wait in my parlour to answer your questions but ahh well."
"Yes! Quite, quite! That would not do right now – not at all." he blustered. ""Number 4 will dispatch the coroner with the other constable that they will send once your man arrives. The coroner will have to officially declare the ahhh, the… "
"Mrs. Jansen?" filled in Mrs. Young.
'Yes, he will have to, ummm, declare her as, ummm, well deceased…" he trailed off.
Mrs. Young waved him into the breakfast room and she gracefully slipped away towards the back of the house where the constable assumed was the kitchen. He stared wistfully after her before stepping awkwardly into the breakfast room. His eyes wandered about the room taking in the piping hot coffee urn and the mouth watering rolls nestled in a basket on the buffet against the back wall. He stared at the snowy white table cloth and fine china that adorned the dining table in the center of the room. There were six place settings, so he guessed that Mrs. Young must have six boarders… well, five now he reminded himself. Glancing backwards towards the way Mrs. Young had left – he wished for a plain wooden table dressed with simple plates and a hot mug of tea in the kitchen. Sighing heavily, he self consciously strode across the room and wrapped his large hand around a fragile coffee into which he poured a large dollop of cream from the delicate pitcher he found next to the sugar bowl. He then splashed some coffee into the cup and winced as tiny spots of black coffee spread through the fine weaving of the white table runner that covered the buffet. He glanced back at the door once more and then pulled two rolls from the basket and stared in horror as a third flipped out of the basket when he withdrew his hand from it. Quickly he snatched at it but was too late to prevent it rolling off the buffet. It rolled to stop near his dusty black boot. Surreptitiously he glanced over his shoulder and then with a slight movement of his boot, pushed the roll under the buffet. Looking every bit as ill at ease as he felt, he lowered his rolls onto the plate closet to him and then pulled the chair out with his now free hand. He lowered his rather large frame onto the delicate wooden seat of the chair and squeezed his eyes shut as he let out his breath and relaxed his full weight – waiting for the chair to crack and crumble under his considerable weight. As it did not, he leaned back against the frame and took a sip of his coffee and began to munch on the still warm rolls. While he did so he pulled out his note book and pencil from the pocket within his jacket and flipped it open so as to be ready for his first witness.
He was just draining the last drops of his coffee when Mrs. Young returned with whom he presumed was the lady's maid for Mrs… he paused in his thoughts – yes, Mrs. Jansen it was.
Constable Jones stood immediately and nodding courteously to both women he indicated with a firm nod to the other side of the table that Mrs. Young and this slip of a girl should be seated so that he could begin with his questions.
With a gentle swish of her skirts, Mrs. Young seated herself across from Constable Jones and with a gentle smile she pointed to the seat beside herself and asked Mrs. Jansen's maid to sit beside her. Nervously the young woman stared at the large man in the dark blue coat decorated with two rows brass buttons down the front of it and then glanced at the tall hat on the table beside him.
Jones sat down himself and pulling his note pad towards himself, he gave a nervous lick to the end of his pencil so as to ready himself for the answers he would be seeking.
"First", he began looking closely at the young woman in front of him. "What would yer name be please, Miss?"