The Mystery of Ruby's Sugar (Ruby Dove Mysteries Book 1) Read online

  Waving Fina on toward the study, Ruby tiptoed down the corridor. Fina knew it wasn’t necessary as they were in their cat-burglar plimsolls, but it felt natural as they crept into the comforting murkiness of the study. Anaemic moonlight filtered in, reflecting a blueish light from the blanket of snow outside the bank of windows facing west. Fina moved anti-clockwise from the door, while Ruby made her way to the right. Their task was intimidating; the room was packed with books from floor to ceiling.

  Grr… Fina stopped and listened. She squinted through the gloom and saw Ruby pointing at her own stomach. Fina responded by pulling down her lip in an exaggerated ‘I’m sorry’ expression. All the more reason to speed through their task, she thought.

  Two large desks stood next to three cabinets, along with a line-up of bookshelves. Fina decided to begin with the desks, but the drawers were locked, apart from one which held nothing but a broken pen-nib, a half-full bottle of Indian ink, a silver hip flask (empty) and a race book for the previous year’s Goodwood. She moved on to the cherrywood cabinets. Nothing of interest. Peering over at the tall bookshelf next to the cabinet – stuffed as if it were its own jumble sale – she felt overwhelmed. She took out a book at random and opened it, releasing a dank, mouldy odour. Dark spots blotted the page. She put it back and took another, only to find it equally afflicted. These books must have been left unread for decades. They made a perfect hiding place – too perfect, she thought ruefully. How would she and Ruby ever get through them all?

  Summoning all her strength, Fina decided to adopt a more analytical approach. Scanning the titles, she selected ‘Colonial Administration’ and shook it gingerly. She performed the same operation with ‘West Indies Flora and Fauna’. Finally, she came to ‘Sugar Cane Production’. Bingo! A thick, yellowish envelope marked ‘Bluegate’ was wedged in the book jacket, hidden from prying eyes – or so someone had thought.

  Adrenaline, already pumping through her veins, gave her such a rush that she felt temporarily immobile. But she managed to give a rather feeble wave – under the circumstances – of her quarry at Ruby.

  Before Ruby could react, a faint scraping sound caught their ears, followed by an oddly soft thud. Without even looking at one another, the pair fled the study, away from the direction of the sound. Scurrying down the corridor to the right, they escaped down the stairs to the kitchen.

  11

  In the midst of gleaming copper pots and pans, Fina and Ruby heaved a sigh in unison. They collapsed at the enormous table-cum-workspace. In a quiet, but no longer hushed voice, Fina said, “I feel so much more comfortable here. More like home.” Nodding her agreement, Fina could tell Ruby felt the same way by her relaxed shoulders.

  Scanning the worktops, Fina’s eyes alighted on a plate of cheese – Stilton? It looked inviting. The smell of dinner rolls wafted nearby.

  “Let’s eat and then talk,” said Fina, pouncing on the cheese and rolls. They were both so engrossed in the food that they failed to hear approaching footsteps behind them.

  “And just what do you think you’re doing, young ladies?” said a thin woman with wispy blond-grey hair, wrapped in a tight bun. Fina noticed how her muscular forearms were out of keeping with her slight frame. Only one reason for that, she thought. This must be the cook.

  Cheeks stuffed like a chipmunk’s, Ruby and Fina stared at her in silence, unable to talk out of sheer physical inability rather than surprise.

  In between munches, Fina said, “We’re guests here at the Hall. I’m Fina and this is Ruby,” gesturing to her friend. “We were peckish after a lively dinner so we thought we’d make some cocoa. But then we saw this food and couldn’t help ourselves.”

  “Hmpf. That’s what the bell pulls are for in your rooms, miss – tug on them and ask for a cocoa to be brought up to you. That’s why I’m here, even though it’s awfully late for Master Granville to be asking for cocoa. I already had two other guests come downstairs to get a cup of cocoa on their own.” The woman’s arched eyebrows showed what she thought of the younger generation.

  Fina said, “I’m so sorry we interrupted your routine. Are you the cook?”

  “What do you think? That I’m Lady of the Manor?” she said sarcastically, dropping a curtsey in jest. “Yes, I am. Mabel Lynn’s the name,” she sniffed, peering more closely at Ruby.

  “Mrs Lynn,” said Ruby hastily, “Are you by chance related to Nancy Lynn of Malvern? She’s my mother’s cousin by marriage.”

  Visibly thawing upon hearing this news, Mabel replied with alacrity, “Why yes, miss. She’s my brother’s girl. Smart one she is. Always talking about travelling somewhere, though she doesn’t have two shillings to rub together. Still, I expect she’ll make her way in the world. Got ambition, she has.”

  Now sensing the bond between them could and should be repaired, Mabel turned to a small cupboard near them. She pulled out a wedge of what looked to be a moist seed cake. “Here, have some of this. It’s my specialty,” she said with eagerness. She cut two generous slices, rummaged around for some forks, and served up the plates with a smile.

  Making appropriate noises over the delectable morsels before them, Fina and Ruby watched the cook heat up the pan of cocoa on the range.

  Half speaking to herself, she said, “This is the last of the cocoa I’ve made for tonight. Those young folk who came earlier took most of it. Insisted on serving themselves, they did. If you’d like any yourselves, you’ll need to make it yourself,” she said, gesturing to the tin of cocoa on the dresser. “I need to take this up to the master.” She finished her preparations, bid them goodnight and left them to enjoy their seed cake.

  “Mmm…” said Ruby. “This is scrumptious. I feel so much better now. Let’s take a look at our loot from the study!”

  Rubbing her hands together to scrape off the crumbs, Fina extracted the envelope from her dress pocket. With shaking hands, she slid the contents of the envelope on to the table. The small but neat handwriting on the first page read, ‘Testimony of Sergeant Trace, 17 July 1933’.

  Ruby squeezed her friend’s arm in excitement. “This is it, Fina! Well done. Let’s read it quickly and then take a look at what I found.”

  I, Sergeant James Ronald Trace, hereby swear the following testimony is true to the best of my knowledge.

  On 15 July 1933, I was at my post at Lavington’s sugar plantation at Bluegate. I witnessed a group of twenty sugar plantation workers gather to bring their demands for better conditions to the owners of Lavington’s Sugar Company. Though I did not know their explicit demands, I had heard rumours that workers had been trying to gather support for better conditions. My post was positioned near the offices of Lavington’s so I could see approximately twenty workers approach. They entered the Lavington’s and left ten minutes later. The workers did not look pleased. Young Master Granville exited the office after them and yelled something that I could not understand – though I had a clear view of the situation, I was far enough away that I could not hear the precise words, though they were undoubtedly hostile.

  While this interaction was a highly unusual occurrence, I went back to my duties, especially as I was the only one on guard that day. Perhaps an hour later, I heard a series of gunshots, coming from the direction of the cane fields. I took my rifle and ran to the fields. As I approached, I could see a figure riding off down the track, with a gun resting on the pommel. I cannot identify the figure, but the horse was the bay from Lavington’s stables.

  The scene when I arrived was horrific. Ten of the workers had been shot – I recognized most of them to be part of the group that had visited the offices earlier. When I asked the witnesses to tell me who had committed this crime, they fell silent. I could see the fear in their eyes. I did come across a young boy, however, who told me that it was ‘the white bosses’ who shot the workers, though his mother hushed him as soon as she saw him talking to me.

  When I confronted the owners of Lavington’s in the office that day, they denied all involvement, including the fact
that they had met with the workers earlier that day. I wrote a full account and submitted it to my senior officers. I heard nothing from them, but a week later I was told that I was no longer needed in St Kitts and that I would be reassigned to another post.

  I write this account as a form of protection for myself, should anything happen to me. I also write it for those who died. I can acknowledge that though I did my duty in reporting the massacre to my superiors, I am terrified of what will happen to me if I do tell my story to the British press.

  As she reached the end, Fina felt her throat close up. Though the testimony in the document was hardly news, it was stomach-churning to read. She did not have Ruby’s direct connection, but she knew enough colonial history to recognize familiar patterns of violence. Glancing at her friend, she saw the tears welling in her eyes as she read.

  Rubbing her temples, Fina said gently, “I know it’s horrific. But it’s what we’ve been looking for. Let’s cheer up.”

  Silence.

  Quickly realizing her mistake from Ruby’s glare, she amended, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t try to pretend this isn’t emotional – and make it seem all right.” Though they sat in silence, it was a companionable silence, staring at the paper.

  “I’ll be all right. Remembering our purpose makes it easier.” Ruby sniffed and wiped away her tears. “Give me the paper and I’ll make sure it stays somewhere safe.”

  “Not back in the study?”

  “I don’t think I can face going back in there tonight, especially after that strange noise.”

  They padded up the stairs wearily to their rooms. Promising to wake early to discuss further plans, they bid each other a good night.

  12

  Fina blinked in the dim morning glow. The sunlight – though she felt that was a strong word to use – was obscured by the gently falling snow at the window. She wriggled her toes, savouring the warmth of the feather eiderdown and the plush, deep pillow. Maybe just five more minutes, she thought. Unusually enough for her, however, that delicious slightly-conscious drifting did not materialize. Her nose felt cold; with the staff shortage, no housemaid had crept in to light her bedroom fire, and the room was icy.

  She ruminated on the previous night’s adventures. As she was wont to do, she ran the story about her faux pas with Ruby over and over again. Fina reflected that she sometimes felt like a much younger sister to Ruby – someone who had accomplished so much in her life already. Deep down, Fina also knew that she did not want to be like one of those people, like Granville, or like really anyone in the house. She also knew that it was impossible to separate herself, the daughter of an earl, from them.

  Gently chiding herself for wandering off like a lost puppy in her brain, she prepared herself for the day to come. What would they do now that they had essentially accomplished their task? Had they been too successful? Would Granville or others in the family discover that the papers had disappeared? Who would take the papers from Ruby – and what in heaven’s name would they do with them?

  A soft knock at the door interrupted her reverie. “Yes, come in,” Fina croaked.

  Ruby slipped in, stylish, as always, in her soft mauve-coloured dressing gown. She hopped onto the edge of the bed and patted Fina’s feet with a playful touch. Fina let out a small sigh of relief.

  Invigorated by her friend’s encouragement, Fina sat up as if she were a garden rake that had been trodden upon. “Hmm… I wonder what’s for breakfast? I’m starving!”

  “I hope there’s plenty of toast and eggs. I could murder some bacon, too,” responded Ruby.

  “And pots and pots of strong tea and coffee!” rejoined Fina.

  Fina peered out the window as she cinched the tie on her dressing gown.

  “Good lord, there’s feet and feet of snow. I believe we’re officially snowed in,” said Fina as she clapped her hands like a child, remembering that it was Christmastime.

  “Yes, I like snow, too, but this means if we need to make our escape early – because we had a successful search – then we won’t be able to… but I cannot think about anything until I’ve eaten and had some tea,” groaned Ruby.

  After they had bathed and dressed, the two friends tripped lightly down the stairs. As they came to a halt at bottom of the stairs, Grimston piloted them to breakfast in the dining room.

  The smell that enveloped them made their stomachs grumble fiercely. Lifting silver-clad lids revealed a plentiful breakfast of poached and fried eggs, sausage, slices of thick bacon, grilled kidneys, fried and toasted bread, potatoes and kippers along the sideboard. Damning the constraints of supposed lady-like eating – especially as there was no one there to notice – they piled their plates high with food. Fina began with piping hot coffee and cream, while Ruby filled her cup with tea.

  Fina snapped her napkin with a flourish before settling it on her lap. They ate in a companionable silence, broken only by the scrape of forks, tapping of teaspoons and the comforting sound of teacups placed in their saucers. Once their stomachs had been placated, they began to discuss plans for the day.

  “I’ll need to finish the design consultation with Lady Charlotte at some point today, if not tomorrow,” said Ruby, flipping through the small sketchbook she always had with her. “Then I think we’ll need to start one with Julia as well. At least that’s what she told me last night.”

  “I’m afraid I might have offended Julia last night with my probing questions about her penchant for masculine dress,” said Fina, feeling relieved by sharing her awkward moment with someone.

  “Darling Feens, you can be a bit straight-laced sometimes,” said Ruby with a smile. “Still, Julia seems to be the type of person who probably wouldn’t be fazed by such a comment. Please do come with me. I need your expert advice on fit and colour.”

  Fina felt flattered by this comment. Her curves and hips – and meagre clothes budget – meant she had spent time designing clothes to fit her figure.

  Feeling permission to continue to feed her curves, Fina expertly slathered marmalade on a small square of toast. “What do we do about the testimony? What if Granville – or whoever hid it – finds out the testimony is missing?”

  Ruby dabbed the corners of her mouth with her napkin before carefully smoothing it on her lap. Leaning over in a conspiratorial manner, she said, “That’s just a risk we’ll have to take. I know what I’ve got to do with it, but it’s too soon; we’ll have to sit tight.”

  “Yes – even if someone discovers that it is missing, they cannot accuse any of the guests, or even reveal that it’s gone, because then they’d have to reveal the contents of the testimony,” said Fina, feeling pleased that the coffee had stimulated her grey cells – a term borrowed from a detective novel she had recently procured at a local bookshop.

  Ruby smiled, reading her mind. “I see that we’ve both had our morning dose of caffeine. Let’s make best use of it by returning to the study. I’ve had an idea, and we need to do a little research… unnoticed, preferably.”

  “Bother. All the way back to the study!” said Fina. She could barely move under the weight of her stomach. She loved a hearty breakfast, but even she had to admit that was excessive.

  Winking at her, Ruby pushed back her chair, and they ambled, or rather waddled, out of the room.

  13

  In the grey snow-obscured daylight, Fina felt the study was surprisingly more ominous than the previous evening. The heavy dark furniture – crammed around the room – reminded her of an auction house rather than a study. Ruby made a beeline for the bookshelf by the desk.

  “Help me find an atlas,” she said over her shoulder. “Any one will do.” They scanned the shelves together until they found a Harmsworth’s Atlas of the World from 1920. By the cracking noise it made when she opened it, it hadn’t seen much use. Ruby flipped to the back, scanning the index pages with her finger until she came to the letter N.

  “That’s it!” she exclaimed in a whisper. “Nowgong is a city in north-eastern India.”


  Fina blinked. Ruby was looking at her expectantly. “Er… quite,” she said, feeling that her little grey cells were letting her down. “But what does that have to do with the Sykes-Duckworths?”

  “Nowgong – Now – on the financial report you found in Edgar’s room, remember? That wasn’t a call to action; it was a note of where Dulcet & Sons owned property worthy of interest.”

  “Yes, there was something in the report about properties. But surely there’s no sugar cane in India.”

  “No, but Nowgong is in Assam. And the Dulcet property that Edgar was so interested in is very likely to be a plantation.”

  “A plantation? Of course – Assam – tea!” said Fina, light beginning to dawn.

  “Charlotte mentioned the family had plantations elsewhere. I was puzzled because I knew that the plantation in St Kitts was the only one they owned in the Caribbean. Then I began to wonder if she meant some other sort of plantation. When I hear the word plantation, I usually think of sugar or cotton, but it obviously applies to tea as well. That’s why I wanted to check on the name,” said Ruby as she snapped the atlas shut.

  Fina’s eyes glowed as she remembered the conversation she had yesterday. “Sajida is visiting from Tezpur. Isn’t that a city in Assam as well?”

  “I think so, but let’s be sure,” she said, as pages flew past her fingers to the letter T. “Yes. You’re absolutely right.”

  “Surely there must be a connection. Do you suppose that Sajida’s family is somehow linked to Dulcet? She is a princess, after all, and her family must own land in Assam.”

  “It’s an idea,” said Ruby thoughtfully. “They could be here to facilitate some sort of deal. But does it ring true to you? I’d say it doesn’t square with the attitudes of Gayatri and Sajida. If anything, they seemed rather hostile to the family in the library last night.”