“Whatever you wish, ma’am,” Cook said cheerfully. “Shout when you want to eat.”
“Thank you. Bibby? Come and talk to the sergeant. Would one of you find Jeremy?”
Bibby, looking terrified, had to be led into the room. Constance sat her by the unlit fireplace and then took the chair beside her. Solomon set two chairs opposite and perched his hip on the table under the window.
“Your full name?” Napier barked, getting out his notebook and pencil.
“Elizabeth Barton, sir, but everyone calls me Bibby.”
“And your position in this house?”
“Assistant cook, sir.”
Small-mindedly, Constance wanted her to stop calling Napier “sir” all the time.
Napier fixed her with his harsh gaze. “Is that your only position?”
Tears sprang into Bibby’s eyes, for in truth she hadn’t been respectable for very long, and the idea that she was now meant everything to her. Constance had to bite her lip to stop herself from interfering.
“Yes, sir, I’m a good girl.”
“Of course you are, dear,” Bilston said in a soothing, fatherly kind of way. “So when did you get out of bed this morning?”
“Six o’clock, sir, like always. The boy lights the fire, but I make the tea and do the preparations for first breakfast.”
“First breakfast? For the servants, you mean?”
“And anyone else who’s up.” She blushed crimson. “Some of the g…household rise late, so we do a second breakfast, too.”
Napier’s sneer showed that he understood perfectly. So did Bilston, for he moved on hastily. “What time was it when you went outside?”
“After half six…maybe twenty to? I saw Jemmy’s shadow outside and went to see if he wanted a cup of tea. It was a lovely morning, until…” She swallowed hard.
“You went outside,” Napier repeated. “Down the step?”
“Yes, sir. I called to Jemmy—that is Jeremy, the gardener—and he turned round toward me and his mouth fell open. He made a funny noise in his throat and I turned to look where he was looking, and there they were.”
“Did you know them?”
“No, sir.”
“Then neither of them had ever been in this house?”
Bibby shook her head. “Not that I ever saw, sir, though I’m mostly downstairs.”
“Where were you last night?” Napier asked. “Say, from midnight.”
“In bed, sir. I got the little room in the attic next to Mrs. Cate’s, and it’s all my own.”
“Was anyone with you?”
“No, sir!” she gasped.
Constance patted her hand, glaring at Napier. “He means did anyone wake you during the night? One of the others going to bed later, perhaps?”
“Lord no, I was out like a light and slept like the dead till six. Oh!” Clearly remembering the dead outside, Bibby slapped her free hand across her mouth and clung to Constance.
“Then you didn’t hear anything unusual outside?” Napier prompted her. “No voices? No commotion?”
