The Violet Carlyle Mysteries Boxset 2

by Beth Byers

  Violet had to question whether her prejudices were coming into play again. Perhaps she only wanted to believe that a man who had decided to go into the church truly was what he presented himself to be.

  She moved on to the next name.

  MELODY BAKER— She was a clever woman, Vi thought, based on her letters. Conniving even. Her letters were vague enough that she could bluff her way out of them.

  Violet decided suddenly that after luncheon, she would be visiting the woman and seeing what she could find out.

  This time Violet had to add more names to the list, as much as she didn’t want to.

  FATHER BOSCH— The vicar. He helped Violet happily facilitate the assistance for Mrs. Jones and seemed genuinely glad to hear of the financial help for her. He was also the parent of Marie Bosch. Did he know about Marie and Jones? If the vicar did, was it something that he would kill over?

  Violet was sure that Jack was out finding the answers to that question. If the vicar didn’t know, he was going to learn today. Sympathy welled in Violet as she thought about it. What a terrible thing for a father to learn!

  She wrote the next name with far more opinion than the last few names.

  MARIE BOSCH— This was the girl who had given herself to a married man and in doing so had set aside the conventions of her day and the marriage vows she knew he’d taken, and she ignored the story behind the death of the Jones’s children. Could a girl manipulated by a man she thought she loved kill that man for what he had done to her?

  Violet was sure it was possible. The thing that made her believe Marie was innocent was the way the girl was still such a clear believer in Philip Jones. Marie mourned the man she’d created out of lies and fantasy. If she was still sucked into the lies, why would she have killed him?

  Violet had one more name to add.

  CHLOE SANDFORD— Her letters were angry. If she was the woman that Violet had seen outside of the pub, she’d been as angry as her letters. Philip had died soon after Violet had seen them.

  Chloe was high on Violet’s list of suspects. She had been angry and had written threatening letters. Violet very much wanted to find and speak with Miss Sandford.

  “Victor,” Violet said, closing her journal. “Hijinks? Kate? My doves?”

  Kate sneezed and said, “I believe the plague has struck me down.”

  “Oh?” Victor’s head cocked, and he examined Kate carefully. Neither of the twins had realized that Kate had long since closed her book and was simply staring off into the distance. The rest of them had lost their pale skin and the green about their gills look, but Kate’s sickly color had intensified.

  Violet asked Kate, “Do you need anything?”

  “I think I only want to sleep.”

  Violet shot Victor a look, lifting a brow. He caught the look and ignored Violet as he said, “Gin will come keep your feet warm. I have to admit, he was a comfort when I was sleeping even when I was drugged by my proactive sister.”

  Kate smiled wanly and agreed to her furry companion while Violet promised to send Beatrice in to check on her while the twins were gone. Victor walked Kate to her room, steadying her when she swayed.

  “Lila?” Violet asked.

  Denny certainly wouldn’t go, so Violet didn’t even ask. He hadn’t even stopped snoring since they’d started chatting. The big question was whether he was playacting at sleeping so he didn’t need to make excuses or whether he really had fallen asleep.

  “I’d go. I’d help. I’d be useful and clever.” Lila grinned as she added, “But I don’t want to.”

  Violet laughed and Lila returned to her letters. Violet went and changed. She had been wearing a casual dress with slide-on shoes, but she changed into a navy and cream sailor’s dress, thick wool stockings, her sturdy shoes, and light jewelry.

  Violet put on her cloche hat, pinning it in place, then she added a coat and scarf. It might have been spring, but the weather had been excitable. They’d recovered their electric lighting after the last storm. Every time Violet turned a lamp on, she had a little wish in her heart that it would still work.

  Violet headed down the stairs and found that the butler had brought an auto around. It looked a bit dinged up, as though whoever had been driving it had needed spectacles. The auto had already been started, and Victor was standing at the door as Violet descended the stairs.

  “Did Beatrice appear for Kate?”

  Victor nodded. “Kate got a letter from her mother, and she looked upset. Was it because she was sick? Did I do something else? Mrs. Lancaster half hates me, I think.”

  Violet shook her head since she didn’t have an answer. With Mrs. Lancaster, it could be either. They’d taken Kate with them quite a long time ago and had yet to return her home. Vi was guessing that Victor would prefer that Kate never go home. She wasn’t sure she disagreed, but she was guessing Mrs. Lancaster also had a clear preference.

  Chapter 19

  The daily servant had known where Melody Baker lived. Victor had thought ahead well enough to get directions while Violet had thought ahead to have the housekeeper make a generous gift basket for Mrs. Jones.

  Violet was the one who wrote the check to help Mrs. Jones get started without her husband. Hopefully, she’d be able to find work to support herself even though her house was paid for. Did she have an additional income from her family? Hopefully, her husband hadn’t left her too much in debt. Though the twins had inherited rather extensively after the loss of their aunt, they had struggled to support their lifestyle beforehand.

  Melody Baker’s home was a small brick house with a smaller garden, but it was all very nice. Victor opened the auto door for Violet and handed her out of the vehicle. The two of them approached the house, glancing at each other. Victor looked worried. Violet guessed she looked like the cat who swallowed the canary.

  “How are we going to…ah…”

  Violet grinned at him. “Well I was thinking that we’d go ahead and be rude to her. Barge in, demand answers, turn up our noses.”

  Victor paused in his steps. “Whatever did she do to you?”

  Violet fought back a scowl and tried to pretend that she was unaffected, but Victor didn’t buy it. “When I met her—after, mind you, seeing her with the gardener—I explained I had been sick. She told me it was the result of heavy drinking. She suggested temperance and a strict regimen of fruit, vegetables, and exercise.”

  Victor’s choked back laugh that had Violet elbowing him in the side.

  “This is your fault.” Violet truly did blame him and he blushed. “Buying the house the way you did—it will be part of your story here forever.”

  Victor knocked on the door. “I’ve been thinking on that. Not sure I like it so much.”

  “I suppose you are in one of those repent-at-leisure situations.”

  Victor’s expression wasn’t all that pleased with Violet’s insinuations, but just as they heard the door start to open, Violet hissed, “Channel Stepmother.”

  Victor shot Violet a glance, but the door opened before he could ask any more questions. They both transformed into snobbish members of the peerage who were deigning to slum with their appearance at this house. Violet would have immediately hated them if she’d found them on her doorstep.

  “Ah.” Melody Baker’s face was disgusted when she took in the twins. Violet glanced the woman over, noting the drop-waist dress. She was fashionable and extremely beautiful. So beautiful, in fact, that Victor looked pole-axed. Violet smirked at Melody.

  “Hullo,” Violet said. “This is my brother, the Honorable Victor Carlyle.”

  Victor shot her a quelling look, but Violet would be damned if she wasn’t going to enjoy this situation. To Melody Baker, Victor slightly sneered.

  Melody Baker lifted a brow. “Was I expecting you?”

  “I doubt anyone would expect us,” Violet said merrily. “Yet, here we are.”

  The two women stared at each other until Mrs. Baker finally stepped back and invited them into her fro
nt room. She gestured to the seats near the fire, and the twins took them. The furniture was nice, and the house was nice. Violet hadn’t truly been sure what to expect. All of her suppositions were based off of one incredibly awkward conversation and seeing Mrs. Baker at the end of an assignation with the gardener.

  “Were you just being neighborly?”

  “Hardly,” Violet said bluntly. Her smile was smooth, but her tone was nearly as venomous as Denny had described her. “We found your letters.”

  “Mmmm.” The judgment in that sound from Victor was enough to have Melody coloring, but beyond that her expression didn’t alter in the slightest. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Did you want me to read your letters to you to assist in your recollection?”

  Mrs. Baker paused long enough that Violet was sure she was exploring her options. Her gaze darted to Victor and back to Violet and then she suggested, “Perhaps you could let me see the letter?”

  “I have your words here,” Violet pulled out her journal and read, “Dear Jonesy…”

  “I could read them,” Victor said. “Give you a gentlemen’s perspective on how your husband might feel.” The glance he gave Violet told her just how much he enjoyed behaving as their stepmother did. Violet guessed he’d be extra-generous to other people in the coming days.

  Mrs. Baker cleared her throat. “If you cannot provide the original letter, I am sure I don’t know to what you are referring.”

  “The original letter, along with letters from other women, were given to Detective Jack Wakefield and the local constabulary.”

  Mrs. Baker paled at that statement.

  Victor cleared his throat and lifted his brows before he said, “Oh-ho. That’s alarming, I would guess.”

  “Of course, Detective Wakefield—along with myself—saw an interaction between yourself and the gardener. I’m sure that will provide context for your otherwise vague letters.” Violet deliberately placed a small amount of emphasis on the word gardener. She might have determined to improve on ridding her prejudices against other classes, but that did not mean that Violet was unaware those prejudices were common.

  “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Come now, my dear,” Victor said. “This innocent act only works for school girls.”

  “I’m sure Detective Wakefield knows exactly what I mean. Do you desire to have him investigating your relationship? He will if he needs to.”

  Melody Baker’s face hardened. “What is it that you’re expecting?”

  “An alibi.” Violet shot back.

  “Why would I share that with you? Why do you care?”

  “Jack can’t leave here until this case is done. Yet, I’m done with this village.”

  Victor’s gaze darted to Violet, but he didn’t say a word. The sneer on his face faded to blankness, but Violet noted the sour twist to his mouth. It was, of course, for how they were bullying this poor woman into giving them details about her life that they had no right to obtain.

  “So, you’re investigating in order to go home?” Melody’s mocking laughter drove Violet past disgusted straight on to furious. “And you think I should indulge you, why?”

  “I can be discreet, or I can be a rattletrap.”

  Violet met Melody Baker’s gaze. They stared hard at each other, but Violet didn’t give in.

  “I don’t owe you an explanation.”

  “I’m not pretending that you do.” Violet’s voice was smooth and snobbish. Her stepmother would have been proud. “I’m offering you discretion in exchange for answers.”

  Melody was furious, but when Violet waited the woman out, Melody finally snapped. “What do you want to know?”

  “Why Jones?” Victor asked. “Of all men. You are a beautiful woman.”

  “He was talented,” Melody Baker replied. “A bit of fun in the afternoon while my husband was working. He expected nothing and wanted nothing other than fun.”

  “He wasn’t going to fall in love with you, then?” Victor asked, having to hide his reaction to what she’d said. Violet would have taken a wager that he was shocked despite his blank expression. He did tend to place women on a pedestal.

  “What about his wife?”

  “Meredith?” Melody Baker snorted. “If looks could kill, Philip Jones would have been slaughtered by his wife a thousand times over. She hated him before their children died. After? Her hatred was a fire that burned in her so strong you could warm your hands with the heat of it.”

  Violet shifted. “Mrs. Jones is probably one of the few people who couldn’t have killed Jones.”

  “She’d have killed him long ago, if she was going to do it. Meredith Jones is a weak-willed cipher and nothing more. Jonesy would have left her if she’d owned that house they lived in.”

  “She doesn’t?” Victor asked, glancing at Violet and then directing his expression back to Melody Baker.

  “Freckleton owns the house. It was left to his sister, but in a trust that Freckleton handles. All so Jonesy couldn’t sell it or mortgage it. The aunt who left the house to Meredith was a wily old thing. They all felt sorry for Meredith after the children died. The choice they tried so hard to talk her out of brought her the misery they expected. No one, however, expected what happened to the children.”

  Both of the women paused in admiration of the aunt and regret for those poor babies. For a moment, Violet’s irritation with Melody lessened.

  “I shouldn’t be your suspect. I was just…”

  Violet tilted her head, waiting for the way the woman would describe her association with Mr. Jones.

  “…making friends.”

  Violet didn’t hide her mocking laugh, but Melody wasn’t bothered by Violet’s reaction. Victor’s snort, however, had Melody blushing. It made Vi feel like they were a pair of snakes spitting their venom. An image that Denny would approve of.

  “Why are you so focused on me? I suppose that it would be uncomfortable if my pastime became common knowledge, but not something to kill someone over.”

  Violet considered the way Mr. Baker had seemed to be upset with Melody when she’d seen them together. It was only recently that women were able to divorce their spouses for infidelity. Mr. Baker, however, had long since had an escape from his wife if he wanted to employ it. It would cause a scandal and probably make life uncomfortable for the couple in this old-fashioned town, but it was still an option.

  “What do you mean?” Victor asked, cutting in between the two of them. Violet didn’t blame her brother. The instant dislike between Violet and Melody was slowing the conversation down and neither twin wanted to channel their stepmother for long.

  “I wouldn’t kill Jones. Why would I? He was fun.”

  Violet suppressed another snort. “Then who do you think did?”

  “Thomas Brown. He loved Meredith Freckleton. He’s never married. He lingers around her, visits her when Jones isn’t around. Brown even puts flowers on her children’s graves.”

  “How often did Brown do that?” Violet asked.

  “Why would I know that?”

  “What about Chloe Sandford?” Victor asked, his disgust showing.

  Melody Baker’s mouth twisted.

  “We’ve got letters from her too,” Violet warned. “Careful with your truths.”

  “Careful.” Melody Baker laughed. “You are insinuating that you know something you don’t. They had a fling. She regretted it. He hated her snobbishness with him, so he played games with her.”

  Violet’s gaze narrowed. “Blackmail games?”

  Melody shrugged as though she didn’t know. Violet was guessing Melody knew exactly what had been happening.

  “Does Chloe Sandford have someone? Is she married?”

  “She’s a widow. She might have hated Jonesy, but he couldn’t really ruin her. People had seen her out with him. It wasn’t that Jones was trying to get money out of her or would even have been able to. He was mocking her. He liked to make references about the
ir time together.”

  “What does she look like?”

  “Blonde, too large of bosom, pretty, but on the average side.”

  Violet was guessing the only accurate part of that statement was blond. She had to have been the woman in the village, considering the reference to Chloe’s chest. Violet had seen the curvy woman with Philip. She had also been blonde and lovely. Chloe hadn’t been that worried about being seen with Jones. Maybe she only hated him. Maybe her notes were from a woman who had thought she had been in love, realized otherwise, and only wanted to avoid what had happened.

  “Does it matter, Vi?” Victor asked with a glance at Melody. “Is there any reason to believe that Thomas Brown got tired of waiting and decided to end his agony? Or Chloe Sandford?”

  “Yes,” Violet said, “because someone killed him.”

  Melody shrugged. She didn’t seem to be bothered, Violet thought. The woman didn’t even seem all that upset that Jones was dead. Was she hiding her feelings, or was something else happening?

  Violet glanced at Victor, who very slightly shook his head.

  “Where were you when he died?” Victor asked Melody, trying for a more gentle approach.

  Melody’s grin was smooth when she said, “Mr. Baker and I took the train to visit my mother. We had tickets and my mother will confirm our presence. I’ll entrust that, as honorables, you’ll be honorable to your word.”

  Violet scowled at Melody. “Your philandering will not be revealed by either of us.”

  “We never would,” Victor said, he rose with an apology on the edge of his mouth but there was a knock at the door.

  Violet glanced at Victor, who shrugged. “We’ll step out while you deal with your next guest. You can have faith in our capacity to keep your secrets from everyone but the police.”

  Melody opened the door, and Violet bit her bottom lip when she saw Jack’s broad shoulders looming over Melody Baker. Vi’s lips twitched at Jack’s scowl.