Lady Molly of Scotland Yard | Page 3

coupled with that of a young man far above her
in station, who, moreover, was about to marry a young lady in his own
rank of life.
But Mary seemed not to care. She was a young woman who only liked
fun and pleasure, and she shrugged her shoulders at public opinion,
even though there were ugly rumours anent the parentage of a little
baby girl whom she herself had placed under the care of Mrs. Williams,
a widow who lived in a somewhat isolated cottage on the Canterbury
road. Mary had told Mrs. Williams that the father of the child, who was
her own brother, had died very suddenly, leaving the little one on her
and Susan's hands; and, as they couldn't look after it properly, they
wished Mrs. Williams to have charge of it. To this the latter readily
agreed.
The sum for the keep of the infant was decided upon, and thereafter
Mary Nicholls had come every week to see the little girl, and always
brought the money with her.
Inspector Meisures called on Mrs. Williams, and certainly the worthy
widow had a very startling sequel to relate to the above story.
"A fortnight to-morrow," explained Mrs. Williams to the inspector, "a
little after seven o'clock, Mary Nicholls come runnin' into my cottage.
It was an awful night, pitch dark and a nasty drizzle. Mary says to me
she's in a great hurry; she is goin' up to London by a train from
Canterbury and wants to say good-bye to the child. She seemed terribly
excited, and her clothes were very wet. I brings baby to her, and she
kisses it rather wild-like and says to me: 'You'll take great care of her,

Mrs. Williams,' she says; ' I may be gone some time.' Then she puts
baby down and gives me £2, the child's keep for eight weeks."
After which, it appears, Mary once more said "good-bye" and ran out
of the cottage, Mrs. Williams going as far as the front door with her.
The night was very dark, and she couldn't see if Mary was alone or not,
until presently she heard her voice saying tearfully: "I had to kiss
baby--" then the voice died out in the distance "on the way to
Canterbury," Mrs. Williams said most emphatically.
So far, you see, Inspector Meisures was able to fix the departure of the
two sisters Nicholls from Ninescore on the night of January 23rd.
Obviously they left their cottage about seven, went to Mrs. Williams,
where Susan remained outside while Mary went in to say good-bye to
the child.
After that all traces of them seem to have vanished. Whether they did
go to Canterbury, and caught the last up train, at what station they
alighted, or when poor Mary came back, could not at present be
discovered.
According to the medical officer, the unfortunate girl must have been
dead twelve or thirteen days at the very least, as, though the stagnant
water may have accelerated decomposition, the head could not have got
into such an advanced state much under a fortnight.
At Canterbury station neither the booking-clerk nor the porters could
throw any light upon the subject. Canterbury West is a busy station,
and scores of passengers buy tickets and go through the barriers every
day. It was impossible, therefore, to give any positive information
about two young women who may or may not have travelled by the last
up train on Saturday, January 23rd--that is, a fortnight before.
One thing only was certain--whether Susan went to Canterbury and
travelled by that up train or not, alone or with her sister--Mary had
undoubtedly come back to Ninescore either the same night or the
following day, since Timothy Coleman found her half-decomposed
remains in the grounds of Ash Court a fortnight later.

Had she come back to meet her lover, or what? And where was Susan
now?
From the first, therefore, you see, there was a great element of mystery
about the whole case, and it was only natural that the local police
should feel that, unless something more definite came out at the inquest,
they would like to have the assistance of some of the fellows at the
Yard.
So the preliminary notes were sent up to London, and some of them
drifted into our hands. Lady Molly was deeply interested in it from the
first, and my firm belief is that she simply worried the chief into
allowing her to go down to Ninescore and see what she could do.

2
AT first it was understood that Lady Molly should only go down to
Canterbury after the inquest, if the local police still felt that they were
in want of assistance from London. But nothing was further from my
lady's intentions than to wait