The Affair of the Ellsworth Women

by Frank Knebel

Chapter 9

Sunday, 8 November, 11.55 AM

(From Major Bosworth’s narrative)

DESPITE THE protests of Miss Lime and Mrs. Oliphant that I was in no fit state to assist in the inquiry, I made the trip to the Cranmer Theatre with Peugeot and the police. Though I probably agreed with their assessment of my mental state, to sit and do nothing but worry about Brenda and Elizabeth would have been intolerable. Miss Lime stayed behind to help Mrs. O’Connor tend to Dickson. Mrs. Oliphant accompanied us. Just before the appointed hour, we found ourselves in the offices of Jessup and Aubrey. Mrs. Oliphant, Peugeot, and I sat on one side of Aubrey’s large desk; the policemen stood on the other side of the room. Between us seated in chairs facing the desk were our other suspects: Ben Darrowby and Susan Noble, Drusilla Gordon (centre stage as she undoubtedly preferred), and Zoë Frobisher and James Landon. Philip Aubrey occupied his desk chair. Petite Penelope Jessup sat lightly on the desk at Aubrey’s right hand.

     Sapp leaned over and whispered something in Sergeant Wilson’s ear, handing him a piece of paper as he did so. Wilson nodded and left the room. Sapp then stepped forward.

     “I wish to thank all of you for coming to this meeting voluntarily,” he said, “I could have obtained warrants for all of you, but that might have been a time consuming process and time is of the essence for us right now.”

     He swept all of them with his basilisk gaze.

     “This is now not only an investigation of the abductions that occurred Thursday evening and yesterday afternoon, but some two or three hours ago, Mrs. Bosworth and her maid were abducted from the Bosworth home.”

     All the suspects responded with gasps of surprise and exclamations of horror. Susan Noble, eyes wide and mouth agape, half-rose from her chair. Penelope Jessup grabbed her husband’s sleeve for support. Even the cool Zoë Frobisher looked stunned.

     “This is intolerable, Chief Inspector!” cried Drusilla Gordon. “What are the police doing here? The family has been repeatedly threatened and yet this gang seems to strike at will!”

     “It certainly seems, Chief Inspector,” said James Landon with cool indignation, “that one might think that the police have been negligent in their duties.”

     Susan Noble looked at me with horrified eyes.

     “They have Brenda?” she murmured.

     I could only nod weakly.

     “See here, Chief Inspector,” said Aubrey. “While it seems clear that you regard the people in this room as suspects, you must remember that we are also friends of Mrs. Bosworth, and in the case of the women here that could mean that they’re also in danger. After all, Miss Riddle was only a friend of the family and she became a target of the gang.”

     Sapp’s eyes narrowed slightly.

     “And how is it that you know about Miss Riddle, sir? She and Miss Shaw missed last evening’s performance, but I believe that Miss Ellsworth merely said that they had been taken ill.”

     “And that is what we thought until this morning,” he replied archly. “When we arrived this morning, we met one of our local constables in the street outside. He’s the one who informed us.”

     “I see, sir,” Sapp replied blandly. He turned and whispered something to Inspector McAuliffe, who nodded and left the room. “We tried unsuccessfully to contact several of you yesterday afternoon and evening, so now I must ask each of you to account for your whereabouts then and this morning. We can begin with Mr. Darrowby and Miss Noble.”

     Ben Darrowby looked stunned.

     “You can’t be serious about this, Chief Inspector!” he protested. “After the exchange of a few harsh words, you think that Susan and I would … It’s preposterous!”

     “Just tell us where you were yesterday, sir, and we’ll just clear it all up then,” Sapp replied, still employing the expressionless manner he had been using so effectively.

     “Well, let me see,” he began, looking at Susan and moistening his lips with his tongue. “We arose rather late, I’d guess it was about nine o’clock. Just after breakfast, I received a telephone call from a woman claiming to be the secretary to a man named Stephenson. She said that he was the new manager of a theatre company that was being formed in Denningham and they needed a director for their first season. She’d been asked to make an appointment for me to meet Mr. Stephenson at five o’clock in the afternoon at one of their local restaurants. I needed the work so I agreed. We nipped round to the theatre just long enough for me to type up a curriculum vitae^[1] and we drove off in my car.”

     “A long drive was it, sir?” asked Sapp.

     “Over a hundred miles, Chief Inspector. We just got there in time.”

     “And I suppose that this Mr. Stephenson can verify all this?”

     The two looked uneasily at one another.

     “I don’t know what happened,” said Susan, “but Mr. Stephenson never appeared. We asked some people in the town about their new theatre company, and none of them knew anything about it.”

     “So we had dinner there and drove back,” continued Darrowby. “We didn’t reach home until nearly midnight and went to bed almost directly. This morning, we received a call from Detective Sergeant Wilson at about eight-thirty asking us to come here at noon. We had breakfast at home and remained there until coming here.”

     Sapp was nodding.

     “I see, sir,” he said, keeping his gaze on the pair.

     Inspector McAuliffe re-entered the room and whispered something to Sapp. The Chief Inspector nodded, then returned his attention to the line of suspects.

     “Now as to you, Miss Gordon. Could you tell me about your movements yesterday and this morning?”

     Drusilla Gordon seemed calmer now.

     “Of course, Chief Inspector. You must pardon my ill-temper of a few moments ago. I should have realized, as we all should have, that the police cannot read the mind of a madman and his gang and be everywhere he might strike. And it’s your duty to question us in this matter. I do apologize.”

     “Thank you, Miss Gordon. Now as to your whereabouts yesterday…”

     “Oh yes.” She paused for some thought. “I breakfasted at home. About ten-thirty or so I went to the Ellsworth home near Hyde Park. I wanted to see if the two Ellsworth girls were all right, and hoped to have a chat with Miss Alexander—pardon me, Mrs. Bosworth. She wasn’t in at the time, but Miss Riddle and Miss Shaw were helping to care for Julia and Daphne, and we all had quite a marvellous time. They asked me to stay to luncheon. After that, I had intended to do some shopping, but was prevented from doing so by some problem with my car. Savage had to spend all afternoon putting it right again, so I had a nap and read for a bit.”

     Sapp was writing in his notebook.

     “You did all this at home?”

     Miss Gordon nodded.

     “I’m afraid that there’s no one to vouch for it. I had given my maid and cook the afternoon off since I had not planned on being home.”

     “I see,” Sapp said.

     “Last night I had a dinner engagement with Mr. Jameson Clark, the representative of Wegener Brothers Motion Pictures. Oh, yes, you met Mr. Clark right here the other day, didn’t you.”

     Sapp nodded.

     “Of course I spent some time getting ready for our meeting. We had dinner at his hotel, Mockridge’s, from just before eight o’clock until past eleven. I didn’t set foot outside the house from the time I came home last night until coming here this morning.”

     “And did your chauffeur drive you to Mockridge’s?”

     “No. We were somewhat concerned about the reliability of the car, so I took a taxi.”

     “And where is your home in town?”

     “Burnham Court in Bloomsbury.”

     Sapp turned to Zoë Frobisher and James Landon.

     “Now Miss Frobisher, when you left us in Mr. Peugeot’s rooms yesterday, you said that you and Mr. Landon would be driving to your country home in Greenhampton. But when we tried several times to reach you by telephone last evening your butler said that you had not arrived. It was this morning when you returned our call. Where were you between eleven o’clock yesterday morning and eight o’clock today?”

     “We had a very leisurely drive to Greenhampton yesterday, Chief Inspector,” put in Landon firmly. “We stopped for dinner at a charming inn near Alton and arrived so late that we chose to stay in the guest cottage on the grounds of the estate so as not to rouse the servants at such a late hour.”

     “Oh?” said Sapp woodenly. “That was certainly very considerate of you.”

     Zoë Frobisher spoke up.

     “The truth is, Chief Inspector, that James and I wanted some… Well, let’s say privacy. We spent the night in the cottage so we wouldn’t scandalize the servants.”

     Landon flushed and gulped. He looked down for a moment, then raised his head and looked squarely at the policemen then all the other faces in the room. He took Zoë’s hand.

     “That’s right, Chief Inspector,” he said, the firmness still in his voice. “And if we were in Greenhampton returning your call at eight o’clock this morning, we could hardly be abducting anyone before ten here in London.”

     If Landon’s remark had taken any wind from Sapp’s sails there was no sign of it on the officer’s mask-like face.

     “That’s true enough, sir. Of course we’ll have to verify that a trunk call was made from Miss Frobisher’s home, and that the servants can swear to your presence there this morning. It might be as well if you told me that name of that charming inn near Alton so we could do some checking with them too.”

     As Landon gave the name and Sapp wrote in his notebook, Sergeant Wilson reappeared. He and Inspector McAuliffe held a whispered conference, Wilson showing several pieces of paper to the Inspector as they spoke. With a nod, McAuliffe took the sheets from Wilson.

     I leaned over to whisper to Peugeot.

     “I wonder what those papers are that Sergeant Wilson just handed to Inspector McAuliffe.”

     My little friend was frowning thoughtfully at the two policemen.

     “I believe that those are the notes of the Avenger,” he said. “And if my guess is correct they will lead to someone’s arrest very shortly.”

     “It couldn’t be Zoë and Landon,” I observed. “If that alibi checks out, they couldn’t be involved in Brenda’s abduction this morning.”

     Mrs. Oliphant, who had been listening, leaned over and interjected:

     “They’d be foolish to make up something that can be so easily checked.”

     Peugeot nodded.

     “C’est vrai. The clouds of suspicion are gathering over another of our pairs of suspects.”

     I guessed that he meant Susan Noble and Ben Darrowby, but before I could ask Sapp resumed his questioning.

     “And what about you and Miss Jessup, Mr. Aubrey?”

     The producer looked at his wife and cleared his throat.

     “We worked here in the office until just after noon yesterday. Miss Forbes our secretary was here all of that time. She remained in the outer office generally, but she did come in briefly three or four times. We lunched at Davidson’s in the next street until nearly two o’clock. We then took a cab to Regent’s Park and spent the afternoon walking in the Gardens. We took a cab back to the theatre around four thirty and remained here until the last night’s performance.”

     “Did you go out for supper or on any other business?” asked Sapp.

     “I wasn’t feeling very well, Chief Inspector,” said Penelope Jessup. “I was suffering from a headache yesterday. It was better while we were out walking, but it returned when we came back here. I took some aspirin and lay on the sofa in here.”

     “Penny had very little appetite,” continued Aubrey. “I sent out to Davidson’s for some sandwiches. During the performance, I kept an eye on things backstage and in the house while she stayed in here.”

     “And the members of the company and the theatre staff can verify your presence last night then?” asked Sapp as he wrote another note.

     “Most certainly,” replied the producer. “I even talked to Daphne Ellsworth for a minute or so during the second interval.”

     Sapp nodded as he finished his note.

     “One last thing, sir. That spare office on the second floor that you’ve allowed Mr. Darrowby to use: does anyone else use it?”

     The two looked at one another. Miss Jessup shook her head. Aubrey turned back to Sapp.

     “Why no, Chief Inspector,” he said. “No one else seems to have any need of it. But it’s not locked as a rule, and most everyone who works here must know of it.”

     “I see, sir.” He turned to Susan and Darrowby, his face now showing official gravity. “I must tell you, Mr. Darrowby, that our expert has been in that office testing the typewriter there with type in the notes left by the Avenger. It’s his opinion that they were all typed on the same machine. I’m afraid I must ask you and Miss Noble to accompany us to the Yard so that we can compare your fingerprints with those left on that typewriter.”

     “I’m the one who typed Ben’s C.V., Chief Inspector!” cried Susan Noble. “But we don’t have anything to do with all these abductions! I swear it!”

     She rose from her chair as she spoke. Darrowby watched her and stood as well. He took her hand.

     “Are we under arrest, Chief Inspector?” he asked hoarsely. “Because I want you to know that we’re completely innocent!”

     “You’re not under arrest as of yet,” Sapp said gravely. “But if the results of the test confirm that you were the only ones to use that typewriter lately, I’m afraid that you probably will be.”

     To my astonishment, Peugeot rose from his chair and took a step to the couple. He whispered something to Susan. She looked at him with great surprise and, though tears were forming in her eyes, she smiled gratefully at him. She asked him something. He replied with an expressive shrug, then patted her hand. Darrowby nodded and turned back to Sapp.

     “All right, Chief Inspector. We’re ready.”

     All of us, save Jessup and Aubrey, trooped out after the policemen and their suspects. We took the stairs, leaving the lift to Sapp and his party. Just outside the door we passed Miss Gordon’s tall, elegant chauffeur Jane Savage waiting beside an equally long and elegant silver Daimler parked at the kerb. The goddess-like serenity of Miss Savage’s face was graced by a brief but inviting smile as we passed. Miss Gordon again patted her servant’s shapely derrière as the graceful chauffeur bent to open the rear door. Further down the street, James Landon helped Miss Frobisher into a Bentley parked nearby, then took the wheel himself. Peugeot, Mrs. Oliphant, and I remained in the cool wind as the police and their party exited the theatre.

     “Can we give you a lift back home or somewhere else, Major?” inquired Sapp before entering one of their cars.

     “I think it would be wise for us to take Major Bosworth back to the Ellsworth home,” said Peugeot. “He should not be alone at such a time. We will find a cab for that purpose. Ah!”

     He raised his stick to hail an approaching cab. The driver steered toward us.

     “Whatever you say,” Sapp replied. “If we get anything out of these two, about Mrs. Bosworth I mean, we’ll let you know straightaway.”

     I nodded dumbly. We entered the cab as the police pulled away.

     “It’s very hard to think of Brenda and Elizabeth right now,” I said. “The thought of them being left alone bound, gagged, blindfolded, and probably unconscious somewhere is intolerable. Do you think that the police will be able to get them to tell us where they are?”

     “I do not think that Mademoiselle Noble or Monsieur Darrowby will help us find them for the simple reason that they have no idea where the prisoners are.”

     I looked at him with some surprise.

     “You believe them to be innocent?”

     “Entièrement.”

     Mrs. Oliphant was surprised as well.

     “But they are the only ones of all the suspects without a verifiable alibi for at least part of the day yesterday,” she protested. “I don’t see how the others could have done it.”

     “If you reflect carefully upon what was said,” my friend said sagely, “you will see that no one is really eliminated for the abduction of yesterday afternoon. And as for this morning, while Mademoiselle Frobisher and Monsieur Landon seem to be exonerated, that does not mean that they could not be accomplices or accessories to the crimes.”

     “You mean this is like the Alpine Express case?” I asked. “They all did it together?”

     He smiled enigmatically.

     “Pas exactement. But I think it would be wise to think of our old cases. We have seen this type of crime before, if I am not mistaken.”

     “So you told Susan Noble that you knew they were innocent?” asked Mrs. Oliphant.

     He nodded.

     “And that I believed that they would be cleared very soon.”

     Try as we would, we could get no more from the little man during the rest of the ride. At the Ellsworth home I received a warm and sympathetic greeting from all, and the women of the house, Daphne and Julia, the maids and even the recovering patients as well, made a huge fuss over me. I was grateful for their kindness and attention, since a man under stress can more easily talk to women than other men, good fellow that Richard Ellsworth was. We had settled down in the sitting room, several of the women seated round me and others standing with Peugeot around the still unfinished picture puzzle as Josephine and Annie brought in some tea. Randall entered with several slips of notepaper he presented to me.

     “A few calls for you, Major,” he said. “All of them received at your home and sent on to us by Miss Lime.”

     The messages were mostly unimportant. The one that really needed immediate reply was one from Mr. Clark. I recalled that he had wanted to meet with Brenda over dinner to discuss working for Wegener Brothers Pictures. Though I felt in no fit humour to even talk to the insufferable American, let alone mention my wife’s future plans, I knew that it had to be done. I called Mockridge’s Hotel and was connected to Mr. Clark’s room.

     Rather than mention the abduction, I merely told him that Brenda had been called away unexpectedly and would be unable to meet with him. After hearing his expression of regret I added:

     “Brenda and I discussed the matter rather thoroughly, and I feel she would have no objection to me telling you that she has decided not to accept any offers in America.”

     There was a short pause at his end of the line.

     “Well I’m very sorry to hear that, Major. Y’ see, I think your wife’s the best actress o’ the lot and she’s real easy on the eyes too. I think that our audiences would go for her in a big way. Yessir, they sure would. But if that’s her answer, I guess I’ll have to go to Number Two on my list.”

     I remembered what Brenda had said and, though it was surely none of my affair, I continued:

     “And if the second name on your list is Drusilla Gordon, I think Brenda would appreciate that you said nothing about her declining your offer.”

     The American laughed heartily.

     “Your wife is certainly beautiful enough t’ be an actress, but she’s way too nice, Major. Well, our new actress’s first picture starts filming in a month, so I want to have the contract signed tonight. Try to act surprised when you see the announcement in the papers tomorrow.”

     I could hardly bear to speak of the future with the well-meaning but overly hearty agent. I ended the conversation as quickly as I could and returned to the sitting room. As I resumed my seat, I looked hopefully at Peugeot. But the little man was apparently lost in thought, idly turning over a puzzle piece in his fingers. He made an attempt to place it in the puzzle but failed.

     I have no idea how long I was unconscious. As I slowly awakened I was aware of noises to my left front and somewhat below me. There was also pain in my neck from sitting with my head leaning so far to the left. At first, I thought that I might be paralyzed, but was relieved to find that as soon as I moved my head the pain disappeared. What did not disappear however were the bonds holding me in place. I was seated on some kind of blanket or other thin covering of a hard surface. My wrists were secured behind me around a square post or beam that my back was pressed against. It was little wonder that I was pressed hard against it, considering the several coils of rope wound about me. The ropes dug into my bare skin of my upper body, my legs just above the knees, and my ankles. Whatever I was seated on had a rough edge, barely padded by the blanket, which dug into the backs of my knees. That fact plus the feeling of it on the backs of my calves led me to conclude that my seat was made of wood. My bare toes could just reach the cement floor. All this led me to believe that I was being held in a place very similar to the one where Julia and Daphne had been hidden. Of course, not being able to see or speak, I did not know for sure, but I also assumed that the noises I had heard, a muffled grunting and a sort of mewing, were coming from a fellow prisoner, probably Elizabeth.

     The room was comfortable, not stifling as Julia had reported, but warm enough to make me wonder if my clothing had been removed for my comfort or my embarrassment. I suspected the latter. If the experiences of the others were any guide, we should soon be subject to the taunts and torments of the Avenger’s gang. Perhaps we could free ourselves before they returned. Noting that my feet, though securely bound at the ankles, were not fastened to anything, I attempted to call to Elizabeth. Perhaps there was some way I could use my feet to free her. Something about the way my wrists were pinioned gave me an uneasy feeling about future freedom though.

     We had managed only to establish each other’s presence in the room when our attempts at communication were interrupted by the sound of a door being thrown open. I heard the sound of shoes on stairs. Elizabeth, though as securely gagged as I, tried to call out in hopes that it would turn out to be rescuers. It was a vain hope.

     “Well, ‘ow’re yer doin,’ ladies?” came a witch-like voice from my right. “Not too cold, are yer? The Boss just couldn’t resist ‘avin’ all yer charms on display.”

     Our kidnappers came nearer.

     “A beautiful actress must ‘ave a beautiful attendant. Like mistress like maid, I allus says. ‘Ow about it, girl? Glad ter serve ‘er ladyship ‘ere, are yer now?”

     A gagged mew of alarm came from Elizabeth. I was resigned to endure her groping and taunting for who knew how long. To my utter surprise, the feet of the hag came to me, then behind me. I felt the blindfold ties loosen. It fell away.

     I blinked a few times. When my vision cleared I saw a large and powerful looking man in a camel-coloured overcoat, balaclava helmet over his face, and a dark wide-brimmed hat pulled low. He was apparently watching me closely, his right hand on his chin, left arm folded across his body so that the left hand could hold his right elbow. With so much of my nearly nude body on display it was difficult to return his gaze. Somehow I found the strength.

     Meanwhile his associate, dressed in a somewhat mismatched gipsy fashion including headscarf and scarf mask, was bending over Elizabeth and releasing her blindfold as well.

     “There now! Ain’t that better?” crowed the woman. “’Course, yer won’t live long enough ter see very much. We took way too much time wif t’others an’ they ended up gettin’ away.”

     She jerked her thumb over her shoulder at the man who shook his head slowly.

     “T’ boss didn’t like that much, ‘e didn’t,” she said reproachfully. “So we’re goin’ ter work much faster this time. Yer better say yer good-byes quick as yer can. C’mon, luv.”

     She started to go but took one more look at Elizabeth.

     “Wait a sec’, luv,” she said. “Looks like this one’s getting’ a bit loose.”

     She knelt beside Elizabeth and untied then retied the knot at her wrist bindings.

     “That’s better,” she said. “Now jus’ wait ‘ere, yer two. We won’t be a tick.”

     The two marched resolutely to the stairs and went on up.

     I began struggling with my bonds, but it was no use. I would have needed hours at least. Without some kind of blade, it was hopeless.

     A gagged shriek of triumph drew my attention. I looked over at Elizabeth. Her eyes were wide over the sticking-plaster gag. The movements of her arms seemed to be getting bigger. With another gagged cry and a roll of her right shoulder, she pulled her hand free. She quickly slipped her other hand out and used both hands to push the loops around her body up over her shoulders. Not wasting time with the gag, she went to work on her leg bonds. Though it was somewhat awkward with her ankles crossed, she made a fast job of loosing her legs. She stood up unsteadily at first and peeled the plaster from her mouth as she stepped over to me. She untied the band of cloth from behind her head and pulled the sodden wadding from her mouth.

     She leant over me and began to peel away the sticking-plaster over my gag.

     “Don’t worry, Mrs. Bosworth, I’ll have this off in half a mo!’ As soon as I get you loose we can run for it. Even if we’ve no clothes it’ll be better than staying here waiting for who-knows-what!”

     I nodded as she worked. She untied the scarf from behind my head and I spat out the wad of cloth the woman had used to gag me.

     “Thank goodness you have agile fingers, Elizabeth!” I gasped as she leant around the pole to work at my bonds.

     “Oh, no!” she cried.

     “What is it?”

     She stepped back and looked at me with horrified eyes.

     “I can’t free you, ma’am!” she wailed. “They’ve put some kind of handcuffs on you. Without a key there’s no way to get you away from that post.”

     The post was certainly solid. There was only one thing to do.

     “Run and save yourself, Elizabeth!” I ordered. “Find a policeman and bring him back here quick as you can.”

     “I can’t leave you, ma’am!” she protested.

     “But you must! You can do nothing for me, and if you stay you’ll just be recaptured. Go now, and quickly!”

     She looked indecisive for a moment.

     “Go! Please go now!” I shouted.

     With a tearful look, she took a couple trotting steps toward the stairs. She saw something on the floor and bent down to get it.

     “My uniform and my shoes!” she said wonderingly.

     “Good!” I exclaimed. “Put them on when you get a chance. Take a blanket with you for now. Go as fast as you can.”

     She took one of the blankets she had been lying on and ran more decisively to the stairs. I dreaded hearing a cry of alarm that would mean she had run into our abductors again, but there was none. A door slammed. I sighed in relief. Rescue was at hand.

     “Oh, ain’t that a grand sight!” came a familiar voice. “T’ loverly ‘eroine waits fer her rescuers ter free ‘er from the despicable villains.”

     I opened my eyes to see the two well-known figures approaching. The woman held a teacup in one hand, balancing it with care. She turned to the tall man.

     “”An’ we are despicable, ain’t we, luv?” she joked.

     The man pointed toward me with a gloved finger.

     “All right, all right! You ‘old ‘er nose fer me.”

     They advanced. The man pinched my nostrils as the woman held the cup to my lips.

     “Yer knows wot ter do,” she said. “Drink it down, luv.”

     It was useless to resist. I drank as long as she held the cup to me. The fingers released my nose. She set down the cup.

     The man went behind me and unlocked the cuffs about my wrists. The woman took a knife and cut the ropes holding me to the post. I was no sooner freed than I was leant forward and my wrists relocked behind me. The woman quickly re-gagged me with a wadded scarf rolled inside another banded one.

     Already I was feeling sleepy again. The man put his shoulder in my midsection and lifted me to his shoulder. I had the vague feeling that something was wrong, but my mind was too hazy to think.

     I remember being carried toward the stairs. Then everything faded out.

     [1] A summary of one’s work history (abbr. C.V.). A résumé in the U.S.—F.K.