Hyde Park Heist (Piccadilly Ladies Club Mysteries Book 1)

by Bettie Jane

  She was eager, of course, but not for the reasons either the butler or Sidney would assume. She and Jimmie went back to her parents’ residence, set up in the sunroom and began to meticulously search through the journals. They were utterly shocked at what they discovered.

  “Wasn’t she something else?” Jimmie asked. “I thought I knew her, but it seems I knew nothing of her actual character. She changed a lot since our school days.”

  “I suppose she had. I guess it’s clear now why Sidney murdered her. She rather had it coming, I hate to say.”

  “I’m sad to agree with you on that Julia.”

  She noted the time on the clock. “Inspector Gibbs should be here any moment. Do you want to stay while I show him what we’ve discovered?”

  He shook his head adamantly. “I think I’ve had quite enough of the police for one weekend. I’ll go give Oscar and Frankie the news. Unless you think I should wait?”

  “I don’t believe it will be necessary for you to wait to fill them in. They should both know as soon as possible what the Lady Withers was up to, I should think.”

  “Precisely.” Jimmie gave her a warm embrace. “Julia Barlow on the case. Good work, ma’am. This will be the best article the World News has ever printed.”

  “I’d bet my career on it, Jimmie Hutchins.”

  She kissed him on the cheek and they parted ways.

  Inspector Gibbs arrived at Julia’s at precisely three o’clock, and she brought him into the sun room where Cook had laid out a fabulous spread at her mother’s insistence to celebrate the upcoming engagement of her beloved daughter. She’d barely gotten her mother to agree to eat after the engagement was announced. Julia felt one-part guilty for deceiving her parents and one-part pleased with her unintentional revenge upon them. If they hadn’t been so insistent on this arrangement in the first place…well, maybe they’d learn a thing or two today about their daughter and her refusal submit to their threats.

  “I think you’ll be pleased with what I found in the journal, Inspector. It seems Sidney Guinness had some unfinished business with the Lady Eliza Withers what she deserved.”

  She showed him the relevant portions of the journals, discussed the approach she would take with Sidney once he was in the parlor, and then she showed him where he could listen in.

  “We’ll be in the parlor first,” she explained. “When I was a child, I used to secretly listen to my parents entertain guests in the parlor all the time.”

  She led him to a closet just behind the parlor. “There is an air vent in the parlor that opens right into this closet. Trust me, you’ll be able to hear every word. I think it’s best if you set up in here now so my parents don’t know you are here. They are terrible liars and Sidney will know immediately if something feels off, which will foil my plans. I quite want to see the look on my parents’ faces when they realize they almost wed me to the Armistice Day Strangler.”

  “If I sense even the smallest amount of escalation from Mr. Guinness, I’ll be out of this closet in a hurry.”

  “I understand. Wish me luck, Inspector.”

  “Good luck, Miss Barlow.”

  “Julia.”

  “Yes, of course. Good luck, Julia.”

  ______

  4pm Monday

  November 14, 1921

  Barlow Residence

  Mayfair, London

  Julia waited with frayed nerves in the parlor with her parents for Frederick to show Sidney in. Once he arrived, her father greeted him first, followed closely by Julia’s mother. She watched their excitement at his arrival with disgust.

  When Sidney approached her, she extended her hand.

  “Welcome, Mr. Guinness. Thank you for answering my note. I’m afraid I must apologize for my harsh reaction the last time you were here. I was simply overwhelmed with what was happening with Eliza Withers’ investigation and I behaved badly. Don’t let that reflect negatively on your impression of my family.”

  She’d decided to take her contrition to ridiculous levels to assuage her parents. They were about to be given a terrible shock. At least she could let them think she felt bad about being rude. Even though she didn’t.

  “Think nothing of it, Julia. You’ve been under a great deal of strain these last days. How are your friends faring? I understand Philip Withers’ body was found yesterday evening as well. Terrible shock.”

  “Indeed. My friends are all just wonderful, thank you for your concern. Before we get to the matter of your proposal, I would like to clear a little something up, if you don’t mind.”

  “Certainly. Ask me anything, Julia. I will have no secrets from you.”

  “Wonderful, why don’t you have a seat here.”

  She pointed him to a chair that faced the fireplace, its back to the door through which Inspector Gibbs would enter once he’d heard enough of a confession. He took a seat without objection.

  “I’ll get right to it, then. I’m working on my article for the paper and there are just a few details I’ve got confused. Remind me how it was you knew that Philip Withers was unable to father children? That particular clue will be a significant one for the police in catching the murderer, I do believe. After all, they are so close to putting all the pieces together now.”

  He waved his hand dismissively. “I don’t recall. I must have heard it in the rumor mill. You know how women just love their gossip and their scandals.”

  She ignored his insult at her gender. “Very good. Are you very familiar with a family Sutton?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t believe so.”

  Liar, she thought. She said, “They are dear friends of our family, have been for years, haven’t they, Father?”

  “Yes, quite good friends, Julia. I wonder what you are aiming at, though. Mr. Guinness did not come here to be interviewed for your article.”

  “Not at all, Mr. Barlow. As Julia’s future husband, I am honored to assist her with her little article.”

  Little article?! It was a good thing she didn’t have any garroting wire handy, she might just remove his head right there in her parents’ parlor.

  Once again, she kept her thoughts to herself. “That is quite generous of you, Sidney. If you’ve not heard of them, you might not be aware that their family money was all tied up in your business dealing with Philip Withers.”

  “I was not aware.”

  “Then you must also not know that when you backed out of the business deal with Withers, the Sutton family lost everything. They’ve even had to let their house staff go.”

  “How tragic. Perhaps, since they are such good friends of your family, I could arrange to make some kind of donation to assist them in getting on their feet.”

  Julia was committed now and charged ahead. “I wonder if their misfortune is why you left a note for their son, Frankie Sutton, offering to pay him for stealing Lady Withers’ marquise diamond ring.”

  His face paled and his fists balled on his armrest. Julia’s father spoke before he could.

  “Julia Barlow, what is the meaning of this?” Then to Sidney he said, “I apologize for my daughter’s behavior, Mr. Guinness. It seems she is quite a slow learner.”

  Sidney ignored George Barlow and spoke to Julia.

  “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean. Have you heard rumors? Naturally, I can see that one of your fairer sex might hear a scandalous rumor and be predisposed to believe it since business acumen isn’t your strong suit. I can assure you I don’t know the Sutton family nor have I engaged with them or their son at any time.”

  “Julia,” her father warned. She ignored him and went on.

  “It’s unfortunate that Frankie destroyed the letter you sent him. It would be wonderful if we could compare it to the note you sent to Mattie Hawkins, another good friend of our family, accusing Jimmie Hutchins of having an affair and fathering a child with Lady Withers. Oh, do you know what we do have is the letter you sent to me only yesterday? Do you know what is fascinating to me, Mr. Guinness? That your
arrogance knows no bounds. First, you ruin the Sutton Family fortune by backing out of a deal with the Withers, then you set up information that will throw suspicion on one of my friends, Jimmie Hutchins, for the murder that you’d been planning of Eliza Withers. You capitalized on Frankie Sutton’s desire to save his family by enticing him to steal her ring by offering a substantial monetary award. He did throw away his letter, so you got lucky there. If only you hadn’t sent me a note, demanding my acceptance of your proposal, I might not have figured it out. The handwriting on the note you sent to Mattie is a perfect match to the handwriting on the note you sent to me. The forensics at Scotland Yard is really quite advanced.”

  Sidney’s face was changing from pale to an ever-increasing red. Exactly what she wanted; Sidney Guinness was going to lose his cool, right her in front of her parents.

  “Then you planted garroting wire and red poppies at Jimmie Hutchins’ home before calling to give an anonymous tip to the police that he was the murderer. I suppose you thought that he’d be arrested and you could have me all to yourself? Is that was you were thinking? You joined our treasure hunt so you could keep tabs on the whereabouts of Eliza throughout the evening and then finally, in Hyde Park, you had your opportunity and you strangled her and left the red poppies that symbolize peace on Armistice Day. I wonder if you were mocking our peace or if you were simply trying to make it look the crime was somehow motivated by the war.”

  He didn’t speak, just stared at her his dark eyes flashing.

  “Mr. Guinness.” This time it was Julia’s mother who spoke. “I apologize. My daughter has always had a vivid imagination. George, you must do something.”

  “Mother,” Julia said, taking her eyes away from Sidney. “You would have me marry a murderer? How dare you even speak to me right now.”

  Without a pause, she turned back to Sidney. “What I couldn’t quite figure out is the why of it. I knew it was you when I saw your letter of course, but I assumed it was because of a deal gone bad between you and Lord Withers. I suppose it is a little bit true, except it was a deal you made with the Lady Withers that actually fell apart, wasn’t it, Mr. Guinness? She blackmailed you, threatened to out you as the father of her illegitimate child, didn’t she?”

  He didn’t speak, so she kept goading. “It was her journals, the ones you stole after you murdered Lord Withers, that gave me the explanation that I needed.”

  She turned back to her parents. “You see, Mr. Guinness here confided to Eliza that he was going to marry me in order to gain access to the Barlow family name and reputation, not to mention considerable holdings. Eliza and Sidney had an affair and she told him that a baby had come from their situation. He told her that to ensure that marriage to me happened, he needed to find a way to get Jimmie Hutchins out of the picture. What he didn’t count on, Mr. Guinness, that is, is that Jimmie and Eliza were friends. The moment that Sidney threatened to find a way to ruin Jimmie, Eliza turned on Sidney.”

  She looked back at Sidney now. “She was never pregnant, Sidney. You would know that if you’d bother to read the journals you stole. She threatened to take the story of your affair and the pregnancy to the press. She knew that would ruin your chances to marry me and generally ruin your chances to enter our world. You see, new money doesn’t always get a place at the table with old money. You found out that she was going to ruin you, so you killed her. You’d planned it for days, slowly finding ways to throw suspicion on many different people, most of whom were my very close friends.”

  Sidney Guinness stood, fury painted on his face, and lashed out at Julia. “How did you get your hands on those journals, you sniveling little twit?”

  “You left them in plain sight on the book shelves in your study, Sidney. If there is one thing we know to be true of you, it’s that you are arrogant. Philip confronted you yesterday, didn’t he? Accused you of murdering her because she was going to ruin you publicly. So you killed him. Strangled him, just the same way you murdered his wife.”

  That did it. She watched the last bit of control he held over himself dissolve and he grabbed her by the neck and pushed her against the wall. He squeezed tightly and she could feel the pressure of his hands crushing her throat.

  “Unhand her at once, Mr. Guinness!”

  It was her father, George Barlow. Quite an unlikely hero, if she was honest.

  At his outburst, Inspector Gibbs came striding out of the closet and into the parlor where he very adeptly pulled the stunned Sidney Guinness off of Julia.

  “You are under the arrest for the double homicide of Eliza and Philip Withers. Let’s throw in the assault of one Miss Julia Barlow as well for good measure.”

  Julia gasped for air the moment that Inspector Gibbs removed Sidney’s hands from her throat. She looked at her mother and father, who stood in their parlor, shocked to their very core. She actually felt a bit bad for them for being so naive and so trapped in the old ways of the aristocrats. To them, money and reputation was everything, and they’d nearly gotten their only daughter killed in order to protect their status in the community.

  “Father, if you would be so kind to open the front door. There are more police here to assist Inspector Gibbs with his arrest.”

  He sputtered and looked around in utter confusion before he nodded his head and walked to the front door. Four officers entered the parlor and escorted Sidney Guinness out of the Barlow house and out of Julia’s life for good.

  Chapter 13

  Saturday, November 19, 1921

  Piccadilly Ladies Club

  West End, London

  Julia, the newest member about to be inducted to the exclusive Piccadilly Ladies Club, sat among the other, more seasoned members for the gala to which she’d been invited earlier this week. She’d been curious to see what the PLC was about and so far was quite impressed and rather surprised. This was not turning out to be a group of the typical self-important social elite planning parties and other empty social engagements. She listened to the keynote speaker address the room full of female writers, illustrators, and academics as they gave a brief history of the organization of the Club and its purpose. Meredith Watson, the president of the PLC was an accomplished writer in her own right and champion of highly successful charitable work around the world. Julia was in awe of her as she spoke.

  “We women of the Piccadilly Ladies Club are united in our goal to take our rightful place in the world as equal citizens of Britain. We insist on championing our right to vote, in lowering crime, in ensuring that every child in the city—indeed the world—has enough food to eat. We are intent on seeing that another war as the one our city still recovers from is not allowed to happen. We are no longer content to exist at the behest of the men who make the laws and currently have the power. We believe it is our right, every woman’s right, to choose whether to marry or not, to own and possess property, to will such property to those we choose. We reject the notion that those born of wealth and to high society are somehow more deserving of basic human rights. We believe that as women we have the duty and the ability to create a better London and a better world.

  “It is with this intent that we have decided to open membership to our club to a woman who we are convinced will be integral in these values. I’d like to read an article from this woman that was published earlier this week in the World News.”

  Julia gasped audibly as Meredith Watson, president of the Piccadilly Ladies Club, read her article to the membership in attendance.

  When the Mighty of Mayfair Fall

  By Julia Barlow

  November 16, 1921

  It seems as though the elite families of Mayfair are just as susceptible to the pitfalls of love, money, and scandal as is the rest of the world. In what turned out to be a premeditated, exceptionally violent murder in Hyde Park, one of Mayfair’s own, Miss Julia Barlow, along with the harrowing efforts of one Inspector Gibbs of Scotland Yard, discovered a plot so devious as to threaten the social order to which the elite of the city still cling. />
  When Sidney Guinness was arrested for the double murder of Eliza Withers and Philip Withers, shock ran through the streets of the West End’s exclusive Mayfair neighborhood, reminding the rest of London that whether one hails from the East End or the West End, good moral character is not an attribute that runs in the blood or comes inherent in birthright. Rather, it’s a learned value that determines whether one will be a productive member of society or a menace.

  Aftershocks still shake the core of Mayfair residents as the old guard of the exclusive gentleman clubs attempt to blame the evils of Sidney Guinness and his ilk on the loose morals of the Bright Young Things and their disregard for a culture that is dying off with each Bottle party and cabaret performance.

  The youth of these aristocrats carve out a new future themselves, one mixed gin cocktail and jazz set at a time. Where the clash between the old guard and the new generation will end, nobody can say, but one thing is for certain.

  The way of life in the West End is threatened and can no longer look down their noses at their little brother, the East End.

  The only difference between the two neighborhoods, the rest of London is quickly noticing, is that the wealthy attach red poppies to their garroting wire. Life is choked out all the same, just with more pomp and circumstance and fueled by gin rather than ale.

  Julia Barlow is an investigative journalist for the World News with a regular weekly column.

  When Meredith got to the end of the article, the room exploded in applause. Every single woman in the room stood and applauded. Julia sat in her chair, breathless and in shock. She’d imagined she’d be a fly on the wall for this event, gather some understanding of what the club was about and then contemplate whether she’d accept their request for membership. Never in a million years could she have imagined this.