by Kate Parker
“I tried to be, but Victoria didn’t heed my advice.”
“Do you know which dancer stepped on one of the gowns and ripped the hem out at the Blackford’s ball?” I asked.
“No. I missed the event of the night. Playing cards,” she told us in a dry tone.
She fell silent for a minute, and when we didn’t ask any other questions, said, “I’m supposed to go out to an at-home soon, and I must get ready. If there’s nothing else?”
We rose and said our good-byes. Before we left the room, I had a question. “We’ve heard there’s a secret entrance to Wallingford House through the back garden. Do you know anything about it? Did Roxanne mention it?”
She gave me a smile and seemed to relax now that we were leaving. “No, Roxanne never mentioned it to me.”
We were out on the pavement, the door shut behind us, before I said, “I should have asked if Lord Theo had mentioned the secret entrance.”
“Never mind, Emily. We know about it, and I can have the staff at Wallingford House find it and brick it up.” Lady Kaldaire started in the direction of her friend’s home. “Coming, Emily?”
“No. I’ve done my bit. It’s time for me to get back to work making hats.”
Jane was glad to see me return, as we had three customers in the shop, and two of them were aristocrats. I began to serve one and we soon had all ruffled feathers smoothed. After Jane left for the night, I spent time in the shop with my sketch pad, working on new ideas for spring and summer hats. By the time dinner was over and I had spent more time putting pencil to paper, I had solved the millinery problems of several of my customers.
When I heard a knock on the door, I hurried to open it, expecting James. Instead it was my cousin Garrett. “You need to come with me now.”
“What’s going on?”
“Grandfather said to tell you to come now. Come on.”
His words convinced me I was in trouble. “Noah,” I called out, “my grandfather wants to see me. I’ll be back in a little while. Don’t worry. Garrett is escorting me.”
“Mind you both take care,” he said as I hurried to put on my hat and grab my bag and gloves.
We hurried off in the dark to catch an omnibus. As much as I asked Garrett, he wouldn’t tell me anything. Only that “Grandfather said to bring you to the stable,” and “You’ll find out soon enough.”
The stable was actually my grandmother’s, while my grandfather conducted business at the house. We wandered down the narrow alleys of the East End until we reached the stable from the rear. Cousin Tommy sat beside the side door with a lantern. Garrett opened the narrow door and all three of us piled in.
The horses all appeared to be dozing in their stalls, ignoring the humans gathered in one area around the hay bales. There were several men standing in the barn, half of whom I’d never met. In the middle, lying on fresh hay spread on the ground, was Lucky Marlowe.
Marlowe was a mess. His evening suit was dirty and torn, his face was bloody and already sprouting bruises, and dried blood stuck to his hair. Uncle Thomas had a bucket and rags and was using them to wash off the worst of the damage.
He no longer appeared to be Satan, all powerful and untouchably evil. He looked like a man who’d received a beating.
Grandfather said, “Emily is here now. I’d like you to tell her what you’ve told us.”
“Your granddaughter?” came out slightly muffled through swollen lips.
“Yes.” Grandfather waved to me to join him on a hay bale.
I sat down, trying to find a comfortable spot, and looked at the man lying before me. “Mr. Marlowe, what happened?”
“Your family found me and brought me here so neither my attacker nor the police would find me.” He lifted one bloody hand and grabbed mine. His grip was strong. “Stay away from this business with Lord Theo and the murder of the notorious Lady Roxanne.”
Everybody seemed to be advising me to do that. “Who attacked you?”
“I don’t know him.”
“Everyone involved in the murders is a regular at the Marlowe Club,” I told Marlowe.
“Not him. Ow!” Marlowe gave Uncle Thomas a dirty look.
“Are you certain this was because of the murder of Lady Theodore Hughes?”
“He said it was because of my role in the murder. She’s the only murder I know of.”
“What about Victoria, Lady Abbott? She was killed in the Marlowe Club,” I told him.
“What?” He looked at me in confusion. “No, she wasn’t. She died, yeah, but not murdered.”
I stared at Marlowe, as confused as he looked. “What did you hear about the cause of her death?”
“Carriage accident. It turned over and crushed her. Late at night, after she left the Marlowe Club.”
“Did you see her leave?”
“Well, no, but—” He frowned as he fell silent.
“Is it possible Lady Abbott was killed in the club?” I gave him a hard stare.
“I pride myself on knowing everything that goes on in the Marlowe Club. That is my business. Mine.” He jerked twice on the hand he was holding, nearly pulling my arm from the socket and pulling me off the hay bale.
“Are you sure all of your employees are loyal?” I asked. I was rewarded by seeing Mr. Marlowe squirm around on the floor to look at the men I didn’t recognize. His efforts left visible expressions of pain on his face.
“We’re all loyal,” one of them finally said, “but there’s no telling about the maids. Wave enough money in their faces and they’ll look the other way. It’s usually sex, though.” The speaker glanced at me and reddened before hurrying on. “I don’t know of anyone who’d look the other way if it’s murder.”
“Ask around the club. I want to know what happened to Lady Abbott,” he growled. “Someone must know something.”
The men nodded and three of them left the stable.
“Do you know about a secret way into Wallingford House from the back garden?” I asked.
Again, he looked puzzled. “No. Why would I?”
“I don’t know. I just hoped it might answer something I wondered about.” I looked at my grandfather. “You wouldn’t know about a secret entrance into Wallingford House, would you?”
“Really, Pet.” Then he smiled. “Of course, that would be a useful piece of information, but it could only be used once.”
Oh, dear. Now the entire Gates clan would be listening for any hint of a secret passage into Wallingford House, or any other of the grand houses in the area.
Uncle Thomas, on Marlowe’s other side from my grandfather and me, tossed the rags into the bucket and said, “You won’t look pretty for a few days, but then, you didn’t before.”
Mr. Marlowe and Uncle Thomas grimaced at each other.
“Not much real damage, Marlowe,” Uncle Thomas said to his patient. “You want to try to sit up?”
“Give me a hand, Gates.”
My uncle helped the man sit against a hay bale and then checked his head. “You’ve got quite a knot there.”
“Hit it on a wall. The wall did me more damage than that toff.” Marlowe gingerly touched the back of his skull.
“Good thing there’s nothing there to damage,” my uncle said.
“If the wall hadn’t been in my way, I would have gotten the best of that man. And I may still.”
“I’m sure,” my uncle told him, “but for the next few days, take it easy.” Uncle Thomas stood and walked off with the bucket.
“Anything else you need to know, Pet?” my grandfather asked.
“Who the man was who attacked Mr. Marlowe, and what really happened to Lady Abbott. Somehow, I think it will lead us to who killed Roxanne. Or I should say Lady Theo.”
“How will it do that?” Marlowe asked. His eyes narrowed and he sounded as if he were weighing my words.
“I don’t know yet. But in my search for who killed Lady Theo, I found Lady Ravenbrook and Lady Westkirk. Then Lady Westkirk mentioned Lady Abbott’s death and how
she thought she saw Lady Abbott’s brother at the ball where Lady Ravenbrook was poisoned. The next thing I know, you’re beaten up by a strange man.”
“Pet, you’re going to find yourself in serious trouble if you keep investigating this murder.” My grandfather looked more than a little worried.
I looked away. I didn’t want to mention the reason Lady Kaldaire could force me to help her find the killer. Instead, I asked, “Did you know Lord and Lady Theo well?”
“What’s your interest?”
“The lady who came with me to the Marlowe Club is very close to the mother of Lord Theo Hughes and has involved herself, and me, in making certain no harm comes to her friend.”
He shook his head very slowly, as if trying not to cause himself any more pain. “Not good enough.”
“I found Roxanne’s body. She was killed rather brutally, and I want to see someone pay for the crime.” I held his gaze until he finally looked away.
“What happened to her?” He kept his face turned toward the horse stalls.
I told him. When I finished, Mr. Marlowe looked shattered, and even my grandfather looked sickened. “Pet, you should never have seen that.”
“Well, I did, and I can’t unsee it.” I watched Mr. Marlowe until he stopped wiping at his eyes and put away his handkerchief. “What was the notorious Lady Roxanne to you?”
“A customer.”
“So was Victoria, Lady Abbott, and you weren’t affected by her death. There’s a Jeb Marlowe inside Lucky Marlowe, and I want to know who Lady Theo was to him. To the man inside the club owner.”
In a voice I could hardly hear, he murmured, “I loved her.”
Chapter Seventeen
Lucky Marlowe had the attention of everyone in the barn. When the silence lingered, I asked, “Did she know?”
“Yes.”
“What about…?” my grandfather asked.
“I was over her a long time ago,” Marlowe said in a rush. Then he grinned. “Really, she was over me.”
“Was the notorious Lady Roxanne willing to leave her husband, her wealth, and her title for you?” I asked. Lucky Marlowe was devilishly handsome, emphasis on devil, and I could see how he could appeal to some women. Including a woman who seemed to thrive on notoriety.
“Yes.”
A couple of the men, including Petey, made scoffing noises.
“It’s true. She couldn’t stand her husband, and the title was just a courtesy one,” he said defiantly and then expanded his story. “He was always gambling, always drinking, always taking cocaine. And his family didn’t see what a danger he was to everyone. I had already begun to wind up my business affairs when her husband died.” He stared straight into my eyes. “She was free, and we were going away together.”
“Is that why he had to die?” I asked.
“No. She’d have left if he were dead or alive.”
“You’re certain of that?”
“Yeah, I am.” He gazed into my eyes, and I found I believed him.
“Where were you planning to go?” Where could the widow of a duke’s son and a man from the East End escape to be together?
“Australia. We had booked passage on the Queen of the Orient sailing in a few days.”
“Did Lord Theo’s family know? She was still living in their house.”
“She said she hadn’t told them yet, and I don’t know if she would have even on the day we sailed.”
He might still be able to tell me details that would help find Roxanne’s—find Lady Theo’s—killer. And I was curious. “What was Roxanne like?”
“She was bold. Outspoken. Honest. Funny. That was what originally drew me to her. She had only been married a month or two when they came into the club the first time and was still trying to learn how to be part of the Wallingford family. The duchess and the family were pulling her one way, constantly finding fault with her words, her behavior, her walk. Theo and his friends pulled her the other way, into debauchery.”
He shook his head. “She didn’t like either way, and she was unhappy. She tried to please her husband, but there was no pleasing him. She tried to please his family, but that got her nowhere. Even when she took the blame for a couple of his idiotic stunts.”
“Such as?”
“The infamous carriage race down Pall Mall. Lord Theo made the bet, and Lord Theo drove their carriage. After the crash, Roxanne put Theo inside the carriage and took the reins herself. The police never knew Theo was hiding inside on the floor of the carriage. The duke got the police charges dropped because he knew it was his son who’d caused all the damage, but he never told his family who’d been driving and he never thanked Roxanne for her quick thinking.”
“The poor woman.” To be blamed unfairly must have stung, especially since she saved the family’s reputation.
“After a while, she began to stay away from her husband. Then she began to refuse his demands. She wouldn’t place bets for him after I refused him any more credit. She showed me the bruises he’d given her for not convincing some woman to climb into bed with him.”
“When did she stop bringing him women?” I asked.
“Several months ago, when she found Lord Theo was promising her to his friends in exchange for placing bets for him and buying him cocaine. She refused to have anything to do with their—games.”
That didn’t tally with what Lady Westkirk told me. Lady Abbott only died recently. “What can you tell me about her friends?”
“The people who come to my club don’t have friends. More like accomplices.” He sounded disgusted.
“The women she was closest to.”
He settled back against the hay bales and said, “Lady Ravenbrook was all right, but lately she’s become too fond of cocaine. I think Lord Ravenbrook has been frightened by the deaths of both Lord and Lady Theo and is trying to get his wife to go away to their country house for a while.”
He thought for a moment and added, “Lady Westkirk is a tough bird. I think she’s lining her pockets for the time when she’s a widow.”
“Why do you say that?” I broke in. I was thinking the same thing, but I suspected Mr. Marlowe knew her better.
“She always seems to have money.”
“And money is important to her?”
“It’s important to all these fancy people who come to gamble at the club. They want flashier jewels. An automobile. Travels to the Continent or to Africa,” he told me.
“Do they all end up owing money to you for their sins?” I asked.
“No.” Marlowe sounded as if he was scoffing my words. “Some of them are short on funds from time to time, but few of them run up much of a tab. Well, Lord Theo was an exception. I was having to rein in his credit.” He waved a hand. “No, I didn’t kill him because he owed me money. I wouldn’t.”
“And Lord Armstrong? I’ve heard he doesn’t have a penny to his name.”
“His wife must give him a huge allowance, because he’s never short of funds. He’s one of the richest men in the club.”
“All of whom end up chasing strong spirits or cocaine or someone else’s wife.” That’s what I’d heard about the Marlowe Club.
He shook his head. “That’s not true about most of them. They come in occasionally to taste what they believe is the wild life, and then go back to their respectable lives. They want the fantasy for an evening.”
“But Lord Theo Hughes, Lady Ravenbrook, and Lady Westkirk want it for longer than an evening?” I wondered if I understood them.
Marlowe huffed out one laugh. “Lord Theo was insane. He liked the Marlowe Club because it was less sane than his home or his club. He fit in better. Lady Ravenbrook wanted the club for an occasional indulgence, but it’s beginning to take over her life. She’d better watch out. Lady Westkirk only wants the Marlowe Club for what it can do for her.”
“Such as what?”
Mr. Marlowe looked me in the eye. “I don’t know. I don’t think I want to know.”
“Are you going to Austra
lia?” Uncle Thomas asked. I hadn’t heard him return.
“I finalize the sale of my share of the club in a couple of days, and then I’ll be off shortly thereafter.”
“Who did you sell your share to?” I asked.
“That, Miss Gates, is none of your business.” He grimaced. “I hadn’t planned on going alone, but I think it’s time for me to leave London.”
“Why is it called the Marlowe Club if you’re only a part owner?” I didn’t know how, but I thought the information might help me find Roxanne’s killer.
“I’m the face of the club. Everyone assumes I own the place, which makes my partner happy.”
“Your partner?”
“No, Miss Gates. No more questions.”
Uncle Thomas held out his hand. “I’ve known you as long as I’ve known anyone. I wish you well. I’ll miss you, my friend.”
“We all will,” my grandfather added.
As they said their good-byes, I thought about what he’d said concerning Roxanne. He saw her much differently than the woman the Duchess of Wallingford saw her late daughter-in-law. Their descriptions might have been of two different women entirely. The question was, who was right?
My grandfather shifted on the hay bale and my bag fell open on the dirt. As he picked it up, the little gold case I’d taken from Lady Ravenbrook came out.
He looked at me through frozen features. “What is this?”
“I got that last night from Lady Ravenbrook. I was going to give it to James, to Inspector Russell, but I forgot. What is it?” I had my suspicions.
Grandfather looked at the powder, put a tiny bit on his finger, tasted it, and then wiped his tongue on the back of his hand. His expression was a mix of horror and disgust. “Cocaine.”
Immediately, my family all spoke at once. “Are you crazy, Em?” “What are you thinking?” “What a fool.”
And Petey’s comment, “Gran’s gonna whup you.”
“No, she’s not,” I told him. “I have to give that to Inspector Russell. Or return it to Lady Ravenbrook, though I think that’s not a good idea. I don’t want it.”
“That stuff’s poison, Pet,” my grandfather said.