Page 88 of The Mistress of Ashmore Castle

‘So it was you who removed his things from his room?’ Giles asked, tapping a pencil against the edge of the table impatiently.

‘No, my lord, that was Mr Hook. You see, my lord, it was this way – I went looking for the mending basket, because the mending was loose and tumbled all over the place, and Mr Hook said he’d used it to put Mr Moss’s things in. So I said I had to have it back, and I found a grocer’s box in the kitchen no-one wanted and I put all Mr Moss’s things very careful out of the basket into the box.’

‘And where was it then?’

‘The box, my lord, or the basket?’

‘Either. Both.’

‘Mr Moss’s valise and the basket was in one of the cupboards in the ironing-room, my lord, and when I’d moved the stuff from the basket to the box I put it back in the cupboard, and there it stayed, my lord, as far as I know, until it was taken over to Mr Moss.’

‘So it was Hook who initially cleared Mr Moss’s room?’

‘He supervised, my lord. William and Eddie did the actual packing.’

‘We’d better have them all in,’ Giles said. He was longing to get out and about his work, instead of being trapped here in the library by this trivial and yet important matter. The minutiae of an earl’s life were as tiresome as the larger problems.

They came. William looked miserable, Eddie scared, and Hook his usual cocksure, smirking self. Giles was beginning actively to dislike him.

‘No, sir, my lord, I never see no red book,’ Eddie said, almost tearful with fear, as Giles got to the bottom of things with patient – impatient – questioning. ‘Mr Hook give me four books to put in the basket, but they didn’t none of ’em have red covers, my lord.’

William spoke up for the boy. ‘He’s right, my lord. I was watching.’

Giles looked enquiringly at Hook. ‘They were four printed books,’ he agreed. ‘I just glanced at them. Mr Moss’s encyclopaedia was one, and a poetry book, his Bible and a book about kings and queens.’

‘And where did you get them from?’

‘They were on the shelf by the bed, my lord. I never saw Mr Moss’s stamp album at all when we were packing up, and it’s certainly not in the room now. If I may suggest, my lord, perhaps Mr Moss took it with him to London, and it was left there after his unfortunate accident. He might not remember that he took it there.’

‘It’s a possibility, I suppose,’ Giles said, in dissatisfied tones. The pencil tapped faster.

‘Or, I’m sorry to say, anyone could have taken it,’ Hook went on. ‘There are no locks on the butler’s room door, or the bedroom beyond it. I’ve long thought those rooms ought to have a lock. May I suggest that it’s done, my lord?’

‘Are you saying someone stole the stamp collection?’ Giles snapped. This was a most unwelcome suggestion.

‘Only saying it’s possible, my lord. All sorts of people come and go down Piccadilly – tradesmen and so on.’

If an outsider stole it, they would never see it again, Giles thought. But if one of the household stole it, that would present other, and much worse, problems.

‘You’d better go and have another look for it,’ Giles said. ‘Search everywhere.’

They departed meekly. Outside, Rose waited until William and Eddie had gone, then said, in a low, angry tone to Hook, ‘You got no right to go saying Mr Moss took it to London and forgot. It was his heart, not his head. He’s not gone dippy. In any case, I spoke to Dory and she said she checked everything before they came home, to make sure nobody left anything.’

Hook shrugged. ‘Just didn’t want to suggest we’ve got a thief in our midst.’

Rose looked at him bitterly. Once a suspicion of that sort got about, life became a misery below stairs. ‘We never had stealing when Mr Moss was in charge.’

‘Are you accusing me of something?’ Hook said sharply.

‘I’m just saying.’ She continued to glare at him. ‘Poor Mr Moss – losing it’ll break his heart.’

‘Thought it was already busted,’ Hook grinned.

‘Don’t talk so shocking, James Hook. Don’t you have any shame?’

He caught her wrist in one hard, strong hand, his mask of geniality gone. ‘You don’t talk to me like that, Rosy Posy. Not ever. You just remember I’m in charge now.’

‘Not for long,’ she said. He started twisting. ‘Let me go, you’re hurting me!’