Changeling

“We’ll get Mr. Emery to organize a search. She has to be here near the house. Yvette says she did not go for a walk. But you never know. The impulse may have taken her. We’ve got to start looking without delay.”

We found Mr. Emery who immediately took charge. Tom Marner joined in. He was very efficient. When the grounds had been explored and yielded nothing the search went on farther afield.

The morning was passing and there was no trace of Celeste. We could not delay telling Benedict any longer.

A message was sent off to London explaining that his wife was missing.

I sat in Mrs. Emery’s room. I could see how worried she was.

“The servants will be talking,” she said. “This will get round. Oh, where is she? If only she’d come walking in! Emery’s worried. The papers will have a field day with this, he said. It could do Mr. Lansdon’s chances a lot of harm. The way things look, Miss Rebecca, I don’t like it at all.”

“I’m not surprised. Nor do I.”

“She’s just gone. She doesn’t seem to have taken anything. It would have been better if she had.”

“Why?”

“Well, then we should have known she had gone of her own freewill. As it is …”

“Mrs. Emery, what are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking that this isn’t going to do him any good. If she’d left him for someone else … well, that’s not very nice … but he can’t be blamed for it … though the papers would try to make something out of it. You can see this is just about the worst time it could happen.”

“Last time …”

“Yes, I know all about that. When he was standing for Manorleigh for the first time. His wife died and there was a bit of a mystery about him. They blamed him and it cost him the seat.”

“I remember hearing about it.”

“If there’s a scandal about this it will all be brought up again. There will be a lot of raking over the past.”

“Mrs. Emery, she must be somewhere near. She wouldn’t have run away from him without anything … only the clothes she was standing up in.”

“I can’t think what it means.”

“Nor can I.”

Mrs. Emery went on: “It looks to me as if she didn’t leave the house of her own free will.”

“How could it be otherwise?”

“If she’d gone at night and taken a case full of some of her things with her … it would make sense. But she’s gone with nothing and we’ve searched the gardens and round about and still … no sign of her.”

“I don’t know what explanation there can be,” I said.

“It frightens me,” added Mrs. Emery.

It frightened me, too.

Benedict returned, and we began to realize how serious the matter was. He questioned every one of us and there was no doubt that Celeste had left the house on the previous night taking nothing with her. The search had been extended and she could not be found.

We knew that it could not be long before the news was out. It came sooner than we expected.

“Wife of prominent M.P. disappears. Tragedy-haunted Benedict Lansdon is the centre of a new mystery. His wife, Mrs. Celeste Lansdon, is missing from her home in her husband’s constituency of Manorleigh. As she appears to have taken nothing but the clothes she was wearing there is alarming speculation as to what has happened to her. It will be remembered that Benedict Lansdon’s first wife died during his original and unsuccessful campaign in Manorleigh and there were suggestions of foul play. It was, however, afterwards proved that she was suffering from an incurable illness and took her own life. Unlucky Mr. Lansdon is now at his home in Manorleigh where extensive enquiries are being made, and there is no doubt that the mystery will soon be solved.”

There was a hush over the house. The servants were talking in whispers. I could imagine the theories which were being circulated. I saw the expressions of excitement … suppressed into concern, of course, but they were there. They were hoping for startling developments. I wondered how many of them knew of the strained relations between the master and mistress of the house.

I also wondered what would be revealed when the press intruded on us and its members talked to the servants … always the most informed of detectives, keeping a close watch on our lives. What would the police get from them? I could imagine the questions … and the answers.

Tom Marner was a boon to us during that time. He took the children off our hands. They went riding with him and he was often in the nursery. I would hear their laughter which sounded odd in a house of fear.

We felt so helpless. What could we do? What had happened to Celeste? If only she would walk into the house and tell us she was well. If only we knew. It was so frustrating. She had just disappeared without a trace.

The first few days had passed and speculation was rife. The police had called. They spent a long time with Benedict. They asked some of us questions, including myself. Had I seen her the night she disappeared? Had I noticed anything unusual?

No, I told them. There had been nothing unusual.

“Had Mrs. Lansdon seemed distressed … afraid? Had she mentioned that someone had been threatening her?”

“Certainly not.”