Lady Molly of Scotland Yard | Page 2

this gruesome discovery. Suffice
it to say for the present that the unfortunate woman was lying on her
face, with the lower portion of her body on the small grass-covered
embankment, and her head, arms, and shoulders sunk in the slime of
the stagnant water just below.
It was Timothy Coleman, one of the under-gardeners at Ash Court,
who first made this appalling discovery. He had crossed the rustic
bridge and traversed the little island in its entirety, when he noticed
something blue lying half in and half out of the water beyond. Timothy
is a stolid, unemotional kind of yokel, and, once having ascertained that
the object was a woman's body in a blue dress with white facings, he
quietly stooped and tried to lift it out of the mud.
But here even his stolidity gave way at the terrible sight which was
revealed before him. That the woman--whoever she might be--had been
brutally murdered was obvious, her dress in front being stained with
blood; but what was so awful that it even turned old Timothy sick with
horror, was that, owing to the head, arms and shoulders having
apparently been in the slime for some time, they were in an advanced
state of decomposition.
Well, whatever was necessary was immediately done, of course.
Coleman went to get assistance from the lodge, and soon the police
were on the scene and had removed the unfortunate victim's remains to
the small local police-station.
Ninescore is a sleepy, out-of-the-way village, situated some seven
miles from Canterbury and four from Sandwich. Soon everyone in the
place had heard that a terrible murder had been committed in the
village, and all the details were already freely discussed at the Green
Man.
To begin with, everyone said that though the body itself might be
practically unrecognisable, the bright blue serge dress with the white
facings was unmistakable, as were the pearl and ruby ring and the red
leather purse found by Inspector Meisures close to the murdered
woman's hand.

Within two hours of Timothy Coleman's gruesome find the identity of
the unfortunate victim was firmly established as that of Mary Nicholls,
who lived with her sister Susan at 2, Elm Cottages, in Ninescore Lane,
almost opposite Ash Court. It was also known that when the police
called at that address they found the place locked and apparently
uninhabited.
Mrs. Hooker, who lived at No. 1 next door, explained to Inspector
Meisures that Susan and Mary Nicholls had left home about a fortnight
ago, and that she had not seen them since.
"It'll be a fortnight to-morrow," she said. "I was just inside my own
front door a-calling to the cat to come in. It was past seven o'clock, and
as dark a night as ever you did see. You could hardly see your 'and
afore your eyes, and there was a nasty damp drizzle comin' from
everywhere. Susan and Mary come out of their cottage; I couldn't
rightly see Susan, but I 'eard Mary's voice quite distinck. She says:
'We'll have to 'urry,' says she. I, thinkin' they might be goin' to do some
shoppin' in the village, calls out to them that I'd just 'eard the church
clock strike seven, and that bein' Thursday, and early closin', they'd
find all the shops shut at Ninescore. But they took no notice, and
walked off towards the village, and that's the last I ever seed o' them
two."
Further questioning among the village folk brought forth many curious
details. It seems that Mary Nicholls was a very flighty young woman,
about whom there had already been quite a good deal of scandal, whilst
Susan, on the other hand--who was very sober and steady in her
conduct--had chafed considerably under her younger sister's
questionable reputation, and, according to Mrs. Hooker, many were the
bitter quarrels which occurred between the two girls. These quarrels, it
seems, had been especially violent within the last year whenever Mr.
Lionel Lydgate called at the cottage. He was a London gentleman, it
appears--a young man about town, it afterwards transpired--but he
frequently stayed at Canterbury, where he had some friends, and on
those occasions he would come over to Ninescore in his smart dogcart
and take Mary out for drives.

Mr. Lydgate is brother to Lord Edbrooke, the multi-millionaire, who
was the recipient of birthday honours last year. His lordship resides at
Edbrooke Castle, but he and his brother Lionel had rented Ash Court
once or twice, as both were keen golfers and Sandwich Links are very
close by. Lord Edbrooke, I may add, is a married man. Mr. Lionel
Lydgate, on the other hand, is just engaged to Miss Marbury, daughter
of one of the canons of Canterbury.
No wonder, therefore, that Susan Nicholls strongly objected to her
sister's name being still