The Girl in Gold: A Vox Swift Mystery (Vox Swift Mysteries Book 2)

by Beth Lyons

  With that she pivoted and shut the door in my face. For a moment it was all I could do to stay standing. Maisie had given me a wealth of information, and I felt frozen with implications. Hugo Morningstar, busy businessman according to his wife, was here, in this house on Saturday night. He was in the library, with a girl. Maybe it was a different girl but maybe not.

  I shoved my hands in my pockets and walked down Clearwater. Mr. Hugo must have a little cubbyhole here in town. Wouldn’t be too hard to run it down. But if he does, why bring his girl to the house? He can entertain to no end in his little secret place, so why bring the goods to his house unless he wanted to get caught? Force Clarissa’s hand, or flaunt his mistress, maybe? I wondered what his daughter would think if she knew.

  Of course infidelity is one thing – murder is quite another.

  That gave me something to chew on. In my experience cheaters aren’t killers. Killers are sometimes cheaters, but not the other way around. And the timeline doesn’t fit, dammit. Morningstar had his girl in the library when Helena was still on stage at the Lamplighter.

  Of course maybe the girl in gold isn’t Helena. Only one place I could find out for sure. I headed downtown to see my friend Finn Hobrook.

  Chapter 6 Central Division

  Thornbury’s Police Central Division is a bright, bustling building. Any hour of the day you will see beat cops and detectives, lawyers and families, guilty and innocent all mingling together. The longer I work with Boleian, the more faces I recognize when I walk into Central.

  I approached the desk sergeant to check in and ask for Finn when I spied the good detective by a side door talking with a statuesque blonde. She was almost as tall as Finn, poised and well dressed. Definitely not a perp, and not the sort of lady to stay victim for long, so who was she? She didn’t look like anyone that Finn could afford to date – not on a detective’s salary.

  I faced the woman as I ambled toward them. She had classic human features – small nose, high cheekbones, full lips. To my inexperienced eye she knew how to apply makeup, and I could attest that she knew how to dress to accentuate.

  I’d planned to walk past them, turn and catch Finn’s eye and get a final look at the mystery blonde, but plans changed when I heard Finn say, “We’ll keep in touch, Miss Grimwell. Finding Helena’s killer is our top priority.”

  So this is the famous Jana Grimwell, star attraction at the Lamplighter. I veered off to the side and sat on a bench. I heard Miss Grimwell say, “I don’t understand – everyone loved Helena. Who would kill her?”

  “That’s what we’re going to find out. You can count on us. Justice will prevail.”

  I rolled my eyes. Finn was spreading it pretty thick. He opened the side door and watched as Jana walked out. He raised his hand in farewell, and who knows? Maybe she returned the gesture.

  He sauntered past my bench and I resisted the urge to trip him. “So it’s true then – the girl in gold is Helena Grimwell.”

  Movement checked, Finn looked down at me. “Vox! What are you doing lurking about?”

  “Keeping tabs on you.” I stood. “So what do you know?”

  “About what?” Finn glanced to his right. “You been here long?”

  “Long enough to hear that you’ve IDed the girl. I’ve got information that might prove useful. Maybe we trade? You show me yours; I show you mine.”

  He laughed and started to walk away. “Not falling for that again. See ya ‘round, Vox.”

  “You’re confusing me with someone else, Finn. My info is always grade A.” Of course he was partially right – my news that Hugo Morningstar could be placed at his house on Saturday night wasn’t all that damning, assuming that Maisie was right about her timeline. That would put Morningstar in his house with a different girl at the same time that Helena Grimwell was on stage at the Lamplighter, and one human’s marital indiscretions didn’t lead to murder. If it did, Thornbury would be lousy with corpses.

  Which is not to say that he couldn’t have parted ways with the one girl and connected with Helena an hour later. Farley Edjrest said that Helena left the club sometime after one o’clock. I could make it from Clearwater to The Rest in 20 minutes without magic. Plenty of time for Morningstar to act.

  Finn sighed. “Tell you what, you tell me your tidbit and if it’s good, I’ll share the autopsy details with you.” He held out his finger. “I really don’t know why Jess hired you, but that’s the only reason I’m doing this.”

  “I’m hurt, Finn! All we been through.” I put my hands in my pockets. “Might as well tell you, since we’re talking about the Grimwell case, Miles Edjrest has hired us as well.”

  Finn shook his head. “Edjrest? The rich cripple? What’s he got to do with the girl?”

  “Seems like he’d taken a shine to her – to the family. He and his son are regulars at the Lamplighter. They were there Saturday. Farley, the son, says that Helena was on stage until midnight and left for home about one.”

  Finn nodded absently at a patrolman as we walked up the stairs. “That checks out with what Jana – Miss Grimwell – said. But I still don’t understand why he’d hire outside help.”

  “He – they were at the office this morning. The old man was certain that Helena was missing and maybe in danger. He said he came here yesterday, but you guys waved him off.”

  “I’ll check that out. But sounds right. Missing persons, it’s tricky; so often they’re not missing at all, and in fact they get downright hostile at being found. And since Edjrest’s not a blood relative….” We reached the third floor landing. “So what’s your info, Vox?”

  “Hugo Morningstar was at his house on Saturday night. Got it from one of the maids.”

  Finn nodded silently. I said, “That’s significant, don’t you think? His wife claims that he’s away on business. Not just that, but she says there was a girl with him.”

  “The wife says he had a girl with him? You’re making less sense than usual, Vox.”

  “The maid! The maid, Finn. She saw Hugo Morningstar, in the flesh, in the library – well heading to the library with some girl.”

  “I dunno, Vox. Seems flimsy. This maid—?”

  “Maisie.”

  “Little thing? Human with brown hair? Kinda breathy? She didn’t say anything to me about Morningstar.”

  We got to Finn’s desk and sat down. Last time I was sitting here I’d pilfered some case notes on an old unsolved death. Doubtful I’d be that lucky again, but I scanned his desk all the same. “She was talking with cops,” I said. “What do you expect?”

  Finn’s desk was noticeably neater than it had been last time. Absently I added, “You’re kind of imposing, Finn.”

  “We got a dwarf.” Finn said this and sat back in his chair like that was the final word on our conversation.

  “You’ve arrested a dwarf for the murder? I don’t under—”

  “No, no. Secretary. We got a dwarf secretary, Tundra Stonesten. I see you eying my desk, looking for information, and you’re not gonna find it! She helps out three times a week.” He folded his hands over his stomach.

  “You must feel very gratified. Um, about the murder…”

  “You’re growing up, Vox. Used to be easier to distract you. If I told you she was a pretty young elf…?” He sat up. “Alright. Fine. As you overheard, the sister has IDed the girl as Helena Grimwell. Jana was a trooper, the sister, Jana Grimwell. You know sometimes family members can’t do it. Seeing their loved one cold and dead, and we have to get their doctor or a local shopkeeper to come in and identify the victim. But Jana, she looked at her sister’s body and nodded. She was trembling, but she didn’t break down.” His eyes were focused over my shoulder. “She’s some kinda woman, Vox.”

  I couldn’t help but wonder if Jana Grimwell had cast a spell on Finn. Having been on the receiving end of more than a few charm person spells, I felt like I could spot the symptoms. But how do you ask something like that without insulting somebody? “Finn,” I said, “when you close you
r eyes, what do you see?”

  “Huh?”

  “Just – just humor me, yeah? Do you see striped lines? Do you hear any sort of hum?”

  “Is this some bard thing you’re trying to do? It’s not going to work. No files to steal – Tundra keeps this place clean. You can try to magick me, but you’re not going to get anything for your troubles.”

  “Never mind. Peshwar.” I waved my hand without thinking, and Finn braced himself against the desk. “What the hell was that?” he demanded.

  “You think— that wasn’t a spell, Finn. Honestly, do you not know anything about bards?”

  “Not really.” He patted his chest and put his hands on his face. “I’m still me? How do I know you didn’t erase my memory?”

  “I said ‘Never mind.’ I didn’t—”

  “Was that elvish then?”

  “Yeah, Eltharin.” I gave him a wry smile. “I said, ‘Never mind’. In Eltharin.” I studied Finn for a moment. He seemed a little scared, a little put off. “Which stands to reason,” I pointed at my ears, “don’t you think? But alright, yes, I have tried to catch a glance at your case notes now and then…” No need to admit to having successfully swiped documents. “But I’m not trying to get funny with you now. On my honor as a Swift.”

  My pledge was met with silence, and I tried to gather my thoughts. We were talking about the sister. “So this Jana, she confirmed that the girl from the Morningstar’s library is her sister. She suspect anybody?”

  “Vox, I dunno. This seems less like sharing and more you pumping me for details.”

  This was a new facet of Finn. He’d never baulked at our chitchats before, and I couldn’t help but fear that my queerness had changed our friendship forever. I pushed myself out of the chair. “Fair enough,” I said. “I’ll be seeing you.”

  He started to speak and then just nodded.

  I walked down the long central staircase feeling more alone than I had in months. Was it worth it? Living open and honest? Wasn’t life easier when I was wearing jackets and ties? I’d had a costume and a role that worked just fine. What had possessed me to change that? Just because some woman accuses you of— Not some woman: Marilye. And it wasn’t just her. Even told me the same thing: said I had to stop hiding behind a suit and tie.

  Smart move, right? Following advice from a murderer and a crazy mage. A half crazy mage. I hadn’t had time to think much about Even’s dilemma – about the curse that split her psyche in two. I’d offered to help her find her wisdom, but she’d said no. Probably for the best. Even brought out, well maybe not the worst of me, but I wasn’t myself around her.

  Central’s lobby had filled up while I was upstairs, and the diversity of Thornbury was on display. I scooted out the side door so that no one would collar me – police or client. I had enough to do with trying to satisfy the Morningstars and the Edjrests.

  Why had Helena been dumped in the Morningstar’s library? To answer that I really needed to know why anyone would kill the girl in the first place.

  The sun hung low on the horizon as I headed down the street, a to-do list forming in my head. A message to Dewey letting him know my missing person was now a dead girl named Helena Grimwell, a bite to eat, and then I’d head to the logical place to learn about Helena, the girl in gold. I was going to the Lamplighter.

  Chapter 7 The Lamplighter

  I got to the nightclub about 8:30. Monday night in Thornbury, I’d expected the Lamplighter to be dead. Instead I walked into a packed house. I squeezed my way to the bar and slid into one of the last stools. I nodded at the barman and said, “Granny Tart’s. Pint.” He placed a frosty glass in front of me, and I leaned up on my elbows. “What gives?” I gestured at the crowd and yelled over the din.

  “Sheet Night.” He started to turn away as if that was all the answer I’d need.

  I grabbed his arm and slid three silvers his way. “Illuminate me.”

  “Monday night is Sheet Night. Like amateur night, right? Singers wanting to break into the biz, they sign up, and if they’re lucky they get 5 minutes on stage.”

  I glanced around the packed bar. “All these people want to be singers?”

  A man to my left me chimed in. “Nah, if you bring at least two people with you, you’re almost guaranteed a spot.” He shrugged.

  “Popular people these soon to be stars, eh?”

  He laughed as he brought his pint glass to his lips. “A free drink will buy you a lot of friends.”

  I nodded in comprehension. The barman had floated away to help other customers so I stuck out my hand. “Vox Swift. My first time here.”

  “Yorks Bundy. About half my building is aspiring stars so I’m here most Mondays, thanks to one tenant or another.”

  “You’re a regular patron of the arts, then?” As I said that someone bumped my right side and I glanced over to see Farley Edjrest.

  “Not as much as that guy.” My new friend Yorks hooked his thumb at Edjrest.

  “So I hear.” I turned to Edjrest. “Vox Swift, sir. I’m Boleian’s assistant. We met this morning?”

  Farley took my hand automatically and nodded. “Glad to see you’re on the case. Terrible loss.” He gestured to the barman who hurried over with a short glass and a crystal decanter.

  So Farley had already heard that Jana identified her sister’s body. Interesting. Wonder who told him. “You’re a regular at Sheet Night?” I asked. “Seems like a pretty crazy crowd.” He seemed to understand my unspoken question: what’s a millionaire doing rubbing elbows with the dregs of Thornbury?

  “We’re all striving, Miss Swift. I enjoy being part of the thrum of art in the making.”

  “Call me Vox.” I took a sip of cider and puckered my lips. Granny Tart continued to live up to her name. Music began to pulse through the building. I leaned close to Farley. “I’d like to see Helena’s dressing room. Is that possible?”

  He nodded hurriedly. “We’re anxious to find her killer. Such a loss.” He stood and gestured for me to follow.

  Once we were in a short hallway normal conversation could continue. “Your father seemed awfully fond of her.”

  “He enjoys young people. There’s nothing… unseemly about it, Miss Swift. He, ah, he regarded Helena as a daughter. Someone he could mentor and help along.” He paused. “She was a project.”

  I nodded. “And Jana? Was she a project, too?”

  Farley had turned to unlock a door, and he paused. “Jana? What about her?”

  “If your father considers one sister as practically a daughter—”

  “Jana Grimwell is a grown woman who clearly needs no help from anyone. For anything.”

  That sounds like the song of a rejected suitor. Tread carefully with this one, Vox.

  “Jana and Helena share – shared – a dressing room.” Farley unlocked a second door and swung it wide. “Jana’s things on the left, Helena’s on the right.”

  I stepped into a narrow room barely big enough for two people to stand back to back. Each side was crammed with sparkling dresses and racks of shoes. A long low counter backed by a wide mirror ran the length of each side.

  The left side was fairly neat. The dresses seemed to have some order to them. The hem length went from short to long as you moved down the line. Jana had also grouped her shoes into color and heel length, with a few worn pairs tucked at the end. Surveying Helena’s side, I saw no order in the chaos of color and fabric.

  Where Jana’s makeup kit sat neat and compact, Helena’s side was a tumble of lipsticks and brushes. Nail clippers, with actual nail pairings, lay beside an open compact. The makeup cake showed cracks and darkened parts along the sides. Housekeeping was obviously not a priority for Helena Grimwell.

  “She was still a child in so many ways.” Farley Edjrest’s voice seemed loud in the sad little dressing room.

  I flipped open my notebook. “She finished her set at midnight, had a drink or two with you and Jana and then went home?”

  “Yes.”

  �
�After she changed, of course.”

  “Oh I don’t think so,” he said. “She was found in that sequined dress.”

  “Of course. I forgot.” I touched a pair of stockings laid along the back of Helena’s chair. “That seems strange – not changing. Is that strange?”

  Farley shrugged. “I couldn’t say. Perhaps Jana…”

  “Yes, I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting Miss Grimwell yet. Will she be here tomorrow? Or maybe I could visit her at home?”

  “I certainly don’t control access to her.”

  “Most clients like to have some idea of what—”

  “My father hired you.”

  I didn’t much care for Farley Edjrest. He was about as warm as a fish. When he remembered, he could sound sincere, but I was certain that he’d rather have been anywhere but here. The murder of Helena Grimwell seemed a great inconvenience to him.

  “So how did Helena know the Morningstars?”

  Farley slouched by the door. “I’m sorry, the who?”

  “The Morningstars – Hugo and Clarissa. Hugo was here pretty often I hear, and with Helena turning up dead in their library…”

  He put his hand to his temple. “Hugo Morningstar? Their library? She was— I mean—” He took a deep breath. “What are you talking about?”

  “You hadn’t heard where Helena was found?” I cocked my head. “I assumed—”

  “I knew that it was some house on—” He waved his hand. “Some house somewhere. In the neighborhood.”

  “Is that where you live?” Farley Edjrest was a study in fidgets. His hands wouldn’t stop moving.

  “No. Not anymore. Father still has the house on Gainly.” He stared into space for a moment. Softly he said, “We share a back fence with the Morningstar estate.” With that he fell silent again.

  “Mr. Edjrest?”

  “We – we haven’t seen the Morningstars socially in some time. Now that Father is confined full time to his chair…”