Mrs. Jeffries Appeals the Verdict Emily Brightwell (great books for teens TXT) 📖

from the dead.”

“Cor blimey, that’s about the strangest thing I ever ’eard.

I think we ought to keep our eye on this bloke,” Wiggins

said. “You don’t see dead people popping back up alive

very often.”

“Wiggins is right,” Mrs. Jeffries murmured with a frown.

“We need to find out all that we can about the situation.” If

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Inspector Witherspoon were on the case, it would be fairly

simple. She’d have come up with some story about someone having seen the late Mr. Merriman and put him on the hunt, so to speak. “But without the inspector’s help, I’m

not sure where to begin.”

“We could begin with Mr. Groggins,” Betsy suggested.

“Doesn’t he deal in knowing things that go on in London?

Shouldn’t he be able to get us at least enough information

to get started?”

“Wouldn’t Russell Merriman be staying with Mr. Mu-

ran?” Ruth asked. “After all, it is his house.”

“But neither of the Turner women mentioned it when

Wiggins was eavesdropping today. If Merriman was at the

Muran house, they’d likely have mentioned it,” the cook

pointed out.

“I agree,” Mrs. Jeffries replied. “That sort of news has

the whole neighborhood taking notice, but from what Wiggins said when he went back there today, it was very quiet.

But that’s not all we have to find out about him. We need to

know when he arrived back in England.”

“I’ll see if any of my acquaintances know anything,”

Ruth offered.

“And we’ll ask Smythe to go along and have a word with

Mr. Groggins tomorrow,” Mrs. Jeffries added. She grinned

at the cook. “You’ve quite enjoyed this, haven’t you.”

Mrs. Goodge took another sip of tea before answering.

“Indeed I have. It’s not often that I get the goods, so to

speak, on the rest of you. Most of my information is generally just background gossip.”

“You did well, Mrs. Goodge,” Betsy said. “I’m afraid

my information won’t hold a candle to this.” But she didn’t

begrudge the cook her moment of glory. She deserved it.

Mrs. Goodge laughed and then said, “I’m afraid I’ve not

learned much of anything else.”

“Shall I go next, then?” Betsy asked. “Seems to me we’ve

all had us quite a day and we’ve lots to tell before it gets too

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late. We don’t want the inspector coming home early and not

finding his dinner ready.”

Betsy needn’t have worried about Witherspoon getting

home earlier than usual. Today the inspector was going to

be very late indeed.

At the new offices of Scotland Yard, Constable Barnes

and Inspector Witherspoon were sitting in two straight-

backed chairs outside of Chief Inspector Barrows’ office.

“Nivens has many powerful friends, sir. Are you certain

about this?” Barnes asked. He was still in shock over Witherspoon’s decision to take the matter to their superior.

Barnes had been hoping for some sort of involvement, but

he hadn’t been expecting the mild-mannered Witherspoon

to make a full-frontal assault.

“I’m quite sure, Constable,” the inspector replied.

“Frankly, this case has been worrying me since we had

that encounter with Inspector Nivens in the canteen.” He

pursed his lips and shook his head. “I understand Inspector

Nivens’ desire to solve a homicide. He’s an ambitious

man, and that is one of the routes to advancement.” An image of the brand-new records room popped into his head and he sighed wistfully. It was a lovely room. He wouldn’t

have minded being in charge of it. Filing was really very

important.

“Wanting advancement is understandable, sir,” Barnes

said.

“But not at the expense of justice.” The inspector was

glad that he’d made it very clear to his superiors that he

wasn’t interested in moving up any further. Gracious, it was

difficult enough solving the murders that cropped up with

incredible regularity on his patch. He’d no desire to be in a

position where he had to take on even more.

“What made you change your mind about Nivens, sir?”

“His manner,” Witherspoon replied. “He was so defensive about a few simple comments. Well, it did make me wonder. Mind you, I had managed to put the incident out of

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my mind until today. Gracious, all we were doing was

looking for a file. Yet he was so worried we might be looking for the Odell file that he climbed all the way to the top of the building to see what we were doing?”

“You think he might have fiddled with the evidence, sir?”

Barnes cast a quick glance at the closed office door and

wondered who was inside with the chief. As far as Barnes

knew, there weren’t any major cases going on right now.

Witherspoon spoke carefully. “I wouldn’t go so far as to

say he did anything of that nature, but I suspect he didn’t

conduct as thorough an investigation as he ought to have

done. I want to make sure that the chief inspector is satisfied that the investigation was conducted properly.”

The inspector had tried his best to stay out of this case,

but he couldn’t ignore his own conscience. Constable Barnes

comments that day in the canteen had bothered him, and

his conversation that evening with Mrs. Jeffries hadn’t help

put his fears to rest, either. After today’s strange behavior,

well, he couldn’t turn his back on the matter. He pulled out

his pocket watch and noted the time. “I wonder how long

the chief is going to be?”

Just then the door opened and Barrows stuck his head

out. “Ah, Witherspoon, goodness, this is a coincidence. Either that or you must be one of those clairvoyants they have at the music halls. I was getting ready to send a constable to

fetch you. Do come into my office. You, too, Constable. I’d

like a word with both of you.”

Barnes heart sank as he followed his inspector into the

office. Nivens had beaten them to the chief. He must have

had already made his complaint.

Barrows went behind his desk and sat down. Sitting

opposite the chief was another man. He stared at them curiously out of a pair of deep-set blue eyes.

“Inspector Witherspoon, Constable Barnes, this is Russell Merriman.” Barrows waved Witherspoon into the only other empty chair in the room. Barnes took up a position

next to him.

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Russell Merriman appeared to be in his forties, with thinning dark blond hair that was going gray at the temples. He was clean shaven and well groomed, but there were dark circles under his eyes. He wore a