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Tyndale colored. You may count on me, Inspector, he said
stiffly. If I offended you, Miss Phipps, I apologize. Ada will show you
to your room. I have seen to it that you do not have to share. I imag-
ine that might have made your task more difficult.
Thank you, Mr. Tyndale. She was indeed very grateful. It was
going to be hard enough to take orders all day without having to share
a bedroom as well. She realized with a jolt how accustomed she had
become to doing her duties as she pleased. It seemed like a very long
time ago that she had first come to the Pitt house, a scruffy and awk-
ward child needing to be taught almost everything. Now fully in
charge, able to read and write, and engaged to be married, she was on
the brink of becoming a thoroughly respectable woman.
She turned to Pitt. Ow do I tell yer if I larnt summink, sir?
I ll find you, Pitt promised. And . . . thank you, Gracie.
She gave him a huge smile, then, aware of how inappropriate it
was, she turned on her heel and went out into the passage to wait for
Ada, who would show her up to bed.
Ada proved to be a pretty girl with flaxen blond hair and clear,
fresh skin. She regarded Gracie with only a mild interest. The look on
her face suggested that she thought anyone so small and thin was not
going to prove a threat to her place in the hierarchy, nor was she
likely to be a companion of much fun.
Come on, then, she said briskly, in one phrase establishing her
superiority in the order of things.
The narrow bedroom, actually designed to accommodate two
people, was right at the top of the stairs. It was quite well appointed,
and the window looked out over a vista of treetops toward the distant
roofs of the city. Gracie thanked Ada, and as soon as the door was
closed behind her, unpacked her meager belongings to put away in
the chest at the bottom of the bed. She was barely finished when
there was a knock on the door again. A different maid, who intro-
duced herself as Norah, brought a dark uniform dress, which looked
to be the right size, and a freshly starched cap and apron, handsomely
trimmed in lace.
I ll call you at six, she said cheerfully before leaving and closing
the door behind her.
B U C K I N G H A M P A L A C E G A R D E N S 51
But tired as Gracie was, sleep was almost impossible. She lay on
one side, then the other, then on her back staring up at the ceiling.
She was in Buckingham Palace! She, Gracie Phipps, was on a special
mission for Mr. Pitt. Someone had knifed a prostitute to death in a
linen cupboard in the guest wing a couple of floors down from where
she lay, and she was to help him solve the case. How on earth was she
going to do that? Where should she even begin?
She had not had time to tell Samuel about it, and perhaps she
shouldn t anyway, not until it was over. But what a story she would
have then! She could imagine his face as she described it. She d wager
a week s money he had never been inside Buckingham Palace in his
life.
All the same, she would rather have told him now. He was a good
sleuth, really good. He would have done this far better than she. But
he despised being in service. They had had lots of arguments about it.
She thought it was just silly pride to prefer being cold and hungry, liv-
ing in some rot-smelling rooms and drinking water from a well that
might not even be clean, just to say for yourself whether you came or
went. Better to have a warm room, good food every day, and be as safe
as anybody is, at the price of being told what to do.
Everybody had to obey rules, no matter who you were. They were
just different sorts of rules. He couldn t see that. Stubborn, he was.
But then she wouldn t really want him much different, even if more
sensible. She smiled in the dark as she thought of him. She would be
able to tell him all about it soon. She would make notes, just to re-
mind herself about the Palace, not the detecting. That was secret
from everybody except Mr. Pitt, of course.
She must have finally gone to sleep because she was jolted awake
by a knock on the door, and a moment later Norah was standing by
her bed with a candle in her hand. She waited until Gracie actually
climbed out and stood up in her nightgown, bare feet on the floor.
Can t ave yer late on yer first day, she said cheerfully, and, sat-
isfied, turned to leave. Breakfast s in the servants all at alf-past six.
Don t miss it or yer ll be ungry.
Gracie thanked her, then she poured the water she had fetched
the night before. She set about getting ready, as well as she could, in
both body and mind.
52 A N N E P E R R Y
The uniform dress was a trifle large, especially around the waist,
but with the apron tied it looked very smart. It was perfectly ironed,
with not a suspicion of a crease, and the lace was as good as a
lady s. The cap felt uncomfortable, but when she peered at herself in
the small glass on top of the chest of drawers, she was surprised how
much she liked the look of it. She was self-conscious, but rather
pleased all the same.
The servants hall was less grand than she had imagined it, and
considerably more utilitarian, but then she had never worked any-
where but in the Pitts house. Her visions of large and wealthy estab-
lishments was based solely upon Charlotte s sister s house, where she
had stayed briefly several years ago. The Palace was somewhat similar,
and that was in a way comforting. The large beams across the ceiling
were also hung with dried herbs, and there were polished copper pans
and utensils on the farther wall.
There were a dozen other people there, including Ada, who was
pretty and very smart in a clean black dress, which flattered the
curves of her figure. Her lace-edged apron was tied tightly around her
waist. Gracie was shown her place at the table and joined them
silently. Mr. Tyndale stood at the head, Mrs. Newsome at the foot.
Mr. Tyndale waited a moment while everyone composed themselves,
then he offered the daily prayer. He hesitated before the end, and
Gracie, with her eyes closed, wondered if he was going to mention the
dead woman, but had changed his mind.
They all obediently sat down and were served with porridge, then
toast and jam and tea. She had expected more conversation. Were
they always as subdued as this, or was it because of the murder? How
much did they know about it? She watched them guardedly as she ate,
trying not to be observed doing so.
Is them police still ere? one of the maids asked nervously.
Course they are! a dark-haired footman told her. They re
gonna be ere till they find which o the guests killed er, aren t they!
That was a challenge, not a question.
An ow are they goin ter do that, then? Ada asked him. No-
body saw it, or we d know already, wouldn t we!
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