Best Kept Secret (The Clifton Chronicles, #3)(6)

Mitchell shifted uneasily in his chair.

‘When we last met, I promised I would settle the rest of my father’s debt to you.’ This had been Harry’s suggestion. He said it would make Mitchell realize she was serious about employing him. She opened her handbag, extracted an envelope and handed it to Mitchell.

‘Thank you,’ said Mitchell, clearly surprised.

Emma continued, ‘You will recall when I last saw you we discussed the baby who was found in the wicker basket in my father’s office. Detective Chief Inspector Blakemore, who was in charge of the case, as I’m sure you remember, told my husband the little girl had been taken into care by the local authority.’

‘That would be standard practice, assuming no one came forward to claim her.’

‘Yes, I’ve already discovered that much, and only yesterday I spoke to the person in charge of that department at City Hall, but he refused to supply me with any details as to where the little girl might be now.’

‘That will have been at the instruction of the coroner following the inquest, to protect the child from inquisitive journalists. It doesn’t mean there aren’t ways of finding out where she is.’

‘I’m glad to hear that.’ Emma hesitated. ‘But before we go down that path, I need to be convinced that the little girl was my father’s child.’

‘I can assure you, Mrs Clifton, there isn’t any doubt about that.’

‘How can you be so sure?’

‘I could supply you with all the details, but it might cause you some discomfort.’

‘Mr Mitchell, I cannot believe that anything you could tell me about my father would surprise me.’

Mitchell remained silent for a few moments. Eventually he said, ‘During the time I worked for Sir Hugo, you’ll be aware that he moved to London.’

‘Ran away on the day of my wedding, would be more accurate.’

Mitchell didn’t comment. ‘About a year later, he began living with a Miss Olga Piotrovska in Lowndes Square.’

‘How could he afford that, when my grandfather had cut him off without a penny?’

‘He couldn’t. To put it bluntly, he was not only living with Miss Piotrovska, but living off her.’

‘Can you tell me anything about this lady?’

‘A great deal. She was Polish by birth, and escaped from Warsaw in 1941, soon after her parents were arrested.’

‘What was their crime?’

‘Being Jewish,’ said Mitchell without feeling. ‘She managed to get across the border with some of the family’s possessions, and made her way to London, where she rented a flat in Lowndes Square. It wasn’t long after that that she met your father at a cocktail party given by a mutual friend. He courted the lady for a few weeks and then moved into her apartment, giving his word that they would be married as soon as his divorce came through.’

‘I said nothing would surprise me. I was wrong.’

‘It gets worse,’ said Mitchell. ‘When your grandfather died, Sir Hugo immediately dumped Miss Piotrovska, and returned to Bristol to claim his inheritance and take over as chairman of the board of Barrington’s shipping line. But not before he’d stolen all of Miss Piotrovska’s jewellery as well as several valuable paintings.’

‘If that’s true, why wasn’t he arrested?’

‘He was,’ said Mitchell, ‘and was about to be charged when his associate, Toby Dunstable, who had turned King’s evidence, committed suicide in his cell the night before the trial.’

Emma bowed her head.

‘Would you rather I didn’t continue, Mrs Clifton?’

‘No,’ said Emma looking directly at him. ‘I need to know everything.’

‘Although your father wasn’t aware of it when he returned to Bristol, Miss Piotrovska was pregnant. She gave birth to a little girl, who is named on the birth certificate as Jessica Piotrovska.’

‘How do you know that?’

‘Because Miss Piotrovska employed me when your father could no longer pay my bills. Ironically, she ran out of money just as your father inherited a fortune. That was the reason she travelled down to Bristol with Jessica. She wanted Sir Hugo to know he had another daughter, as she felt it was his responsibility to bring the girl up.’

‘And now it’s my responsibility,’ said Emma quietly. She paused. ‘But I’ve no idea how to go about finding her, and I was hoping you could help.’

‘I’ll do whatever I can, Mrs Clifton. But after all this time, it won’t be easy. If I come up with anything, you’ll be the first to hear,’ the detective added as he rose from his seat.

As Mitchell limped away, Emma felt a little guilty. She hadn’t even offered him a cup of tea.



Emma couldn’t wait to get home and tell Harry about her meeting with Mitchell. When she burst into the library at Barrington Hall, he was putting down the phone. He had such a huge grin on his face that all she said was, ‘You first.’

‘My American publishers want me to do a tour of the States when they launch the new book next month.’

‘That’s wonderful news, darling. At last you’ll get to meet Great-aunt Phyllis, not to mention Cousin Alistair.’

‘I can’t wait.’