Murder at the Tea Party

by Sonia Parin

  “We’re all asking ourselves the same question, Sara. You’d think our peaceful little village had come under siege. Everyone is running around like headless chooks.”

  “Surely, you exaggerate.” Sara strode up to the window.

  They all stood on tiptoes and looked toward the main street in the village. People were indeed running about but most stood by craning their necks to catch sight of the commotion.

  “I suggest sending Mr. Winchester out to investigate. I do not dare to set foot outside this house until order has been restored.”

  Tom had already moved toward the door and as Henrietta drew in a breath, he stepped out.

  They saw him break into a trot and move toward the end of the street.

  The whistle blew again startling Sara who stood with her hand pressed against her chest.

  Without moving away from the window, Henrietta said, “You were going to tell me about the pies and your reason for looking so winded.”

  Evie told her about her theory. Although, in her opinion, it paled in comparison to the theory proposed by Henrietta.

  “You think they went in there after the store closed and drowned their sorrows with pie?” Henrietta’s eyes brimmed with amusement. “Why would Mrs. Browning do that? Had she been having an affair too?”

  “Not that we know of. Perhaps she wanted to stand by her friend… as a sign of sisterly solidarity.”

  Phillipa nodded. “I would certainly offer a shoulder to cry on, especially if it meant sharing some of your delicious pies.”

  “What is the fixation with these pies I have been hearing so much about?” Henrietta asked.

  “You haven’t tried them?”

  “I have a cook. Why would I purchase my food somewhere else?”

  “Not everyone has a cook and… the wheels of change are in motion. More and more women wish to have a respite from their daily duties or they simply don’t have the skills to make everything.”

  Henrietta could not have looked more puzzled.

  “Is it a fine eating establishment?”

  “Are you saying you haven’t even set foot inside?”

  “Don’t look at me as if I have grown an extra head. I have eaten in restaurants. In fact, only last month I dined at the Ritz. You should know that since you were there.”

  “Not everyone can dine at the Ritz, Henrietta.”

  The dowager made a series of gestures that both amused and puzzled Evie. A simple dismissive wave of her hand would have sufficed but the dowager had thrown in a roll of her eyes, the slight pursing of her lips…

  Finally, Henrietta continued, “You were telling us about your theory and some sort of cure for heartbreak and I’m sure you were about to make a third point. Perhaps you were about to mention Mrs. Hallesberry?”

  Third person.

  Evie thought back to the first time she had gone into Florence’s tea room. Everyone had been agog at the sight of Charlie Timms.

  Had Florence been among the admirers?

  Nibbling on the edge of her lip, she looked out of the window. “Somewhere along the line, it occurred to me that there might be someone prepared to get rid of their competition.” She knew Florence had met Charlie Timms because she’d seen him eating one of her pies. They were delivered to him…

  Did Florence personally deliver the pies?

  “I think I found our third person.”

  The whistle blew again.

  “You appear to be doing better than the constable who is clearly still trying to find one person.”

  She played around with a scenario. The two women sought refuge in the tea room. Florence overheard their conversation. As she prepared the pies, she gave particular attention to one of them.

  Had Mrs. Hallesberry suffered the same fate? Had she sought out a friendly ear, visiting the doctor’s wife who then took her to the tea room where she knew they could have the place to themselves?

  She saw Tom hurrying up the path. When he entered the drawing room, she stepped forward to tell him about her new theory but he beat her to it.

  “Florence has made a run for it.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  The whole art of war consists of guessing at what is on the other side of the hill. - Duke of Wellington

  Evie rushed toward the door only to stop at the hard command issued by Henrietta.

  “Evangeline Halton, Countess of Woodridge, I forbid you to step outside this house. If anything were to happen to you, Nicholas would never forgive me and I will not enter the kingdom of heaven with the heavy burden of guilt.”

  Hiding her smile, Evie turned, “Who says you’re going to heaven?”

  Henrietta lifted her chin a notch. “You have been warned. And the same goes for anyone else thinking of putting their life in peril. I will not have that on my conscience.”

  “Strictly speaking,” Evie said, “we are not thinking of rushing out there for your sake. Although, we would like to see peace restored in your village. Otherwise, I’m sure you’ll never find a moment’s rest.”

  “Fine, be a fool and rush out there.”

  Evie turned only to stop again. This time, because Tom’s hand had wrapped around her arm. “Where do you think you’re going? I have a real person to answer to. If anything were to happen to you, your grandmother would have me strung up and staked to an ant hill.”

  “Have some tea,” Henrietta offered.

  Phillipa edged toward the door.

  “Don’t you dare. If I can’t go out there, neither can you. If anything happens to you, I will be the one burdened with the task of informing your parents.”

  They all looked at Tom. “Well, what are you waiting for? Go out there and get us some more news.”

  “So much for my life of adventure,” Phillipa complained.

  “Have some pie,” Evie offered.

  “I don’t dare. I’ve been thinking…”

  As they waited for Tom to return, Phillipa told them about the theory she had been working on.

  “That is so odd,” Evie said. “I reached the same conclusion. Now it will be up to the detective to confirm it or deny it.” Accepting a cup of tea, Evie lifted it to her lip only to set it down. “Remember what you said earlier about Florence having a dark past? I think you might have been joking. Now, I think you might have been right…”

  “Do you think she is a poisoner?”

  Evie had wanted to give Charlie Timms the benefit of the doubt. At one point, she had wondered if she had fallen under his charm.

  “Did you see the way she reacted when the detective came in?” Evie asked. Had she heard him say he wanted to ask her some questions? “She probably thought the jig was up and so decided to make a run for it.”

  “I think I see Tom returning.” Phillipa stood on her toes. “Yes. It’s him.”

  Evie saw Henrietta breathe a sigh of relief. Had she really been concerned for everyone’s safety? Of course, she had been right to recommend being cautious…

  “She’s been caught,” Tom said as he entered.

  Evie handed him a cup of tea and saw him weighing the cup as if wondering if he could have something stronger.

  “Now what?” she asked. “Will the detective take her into custody? She more or less gave herself away by fleeing.”

  “That’s my guess too. I imagine we’ll be hearing from the detective. He does owe you a debt of gratitude. After all, you pointed him in the right direction.”

  “Are you praising me?”

  “I’m awarding credit where it is due.”

  They all talked at once. Questions and answers and more suppositions crisscrossed the drawing room.

  Sara strode out only to return to the drawing room. “Why are there so many pies lined up on every available surface in the hallway?”

  ***

  Evie eyed the beaded dress Caro held up for her and wondered what would happen when she stepped into it.

  “Would you prefer another dress?” Caro asked.

  It’s only
a dress, Evie told herself. Holding her breath, she stepped into it. When the beads stayed in place, she relaxed.

  Earlier, she had been prepared to rush out into danger, something she would never have considered doing in her life.

  What had come over her?

  When Phillipa had told her about the car rally, Evie had felt as though she had been missing out. She wanted to remain living at Halton House but how much would she be missing out on? Life appeared to be moving at tremendous speed. What if it left her behind?

  “Caro, have you been enjoying your time in Berkshire?” Her maid worked every day, but unlike the other servants, she had more freedom to come and go.

  “I had been, yes.”

  “Has something changed now?”

  Caro went through the process of selecting a headdress for Evie. “I don’t dare go into the village now in case I bump into Charlie Timms.”

  Had word got out about his affairs?

  So soon?

  It had only been a few hours since Florence had been captured by the police. Even if she had confessed to everything, the police would not have made the information public.

  “Rumor has it, he and Elizabeth Young have an agreement.”

  “That sounds rather old-fashioned.” As opposed to what? Evie wondered. An affair?

  “They were seen going to the pub for dinner.”

  “When?”

  “Only a short while ago.”

  Evie couldn’t hide her surprise. “And you already know about it?”

  “One of the footman had been enjoying his half day off. He was making his way back to the house when he saw them. So… I suppose that’s that. I have missed my chance.”

  “But you mustn’t give up hope.” Privately, Evie breathed a sigh of relief. She might have been in favor of Charlie Timms’ innocence, but the man was a bit of a rascal and certainly not good enough for Caro. Then again, Elizabeth Young had agreed to be seen in public with him. Had she discovered something about him others didn’t know? Living next door, she would have access to a different side to him. Maybe he had turned a new leaf… Evie hoped he had, for Elizabeth’s sake.

  Caro adjusted a feather on Evie’s hair and gave it a little tug as if to show Evie she didn’t have any tricks up her sleeve today.

  Regardless, Evie wouldn’t drop her guard. She stood in front of the mirror and gave the dress a few discreet tugs to make sure it wouldn’t come undone at the seams.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw Caro smiling. Maybe this is what she planned, Evie thought, feeling on tenterhooks and about to jump out of her skin.

  “Is something wrong, milady?”

  “Nothing at all, Caro.” She selected a fragrance. Normally, she dabbed it on without thinking. This time, she uncapped it and took a tentative whiff of it. “I think I’m as ready as I will ever be. Unless…”

  “Unless what, milady?”

  “Nothing.” She took her time walking to the door. When she reached it, she tested the door handle. It opened with ease.

  “Have a good evening, Caro.”

  Taking the stairs down to the drawing room, she kept her attention fixed on every step she took only to laugh. What did she expect would happen? The stairs to crumble beneath her? The floor to collapse from under her?

  By the time she reached the bottom of the stairs, she convinced herself Caro had ended her siege.

  Entering the drawing room, she heard Henrietta chatting with Tom.

  “My butler’s brother emigrated to America last summer. He is quite taken with the country and all its oddities. Imagine my surprise when I heard he had fully embraced the game… He wrote in great detail about one of your players, Babe Ruth. Apparently, he single-handedly—”

  Evie gasped. “Henrietta and Sara. How lovely it is to see you both.”

  “Anyone would think you haven’t seen us in years when it’s only been a few hours.”

  “Phillipa. What a lovely ensemble. Don’t you agree, Sara?” She couldn’t believe Henrietta, of all people, had been talking with Tom about baseball.

  “Evangeline, I never did ask if you follow any of those baseball teams…”

  Evie looked away. “Does everyone have a drink. Edgar? Yes, I see you’ve taken care of everyone.” Evie sat down next to Phillipa only to jump to her feet again. “Any news from the detective?”

  They all stared at Evie with a hint of wariness.

  “I think today’s excitement has been too much for Evangeline,” Henrietta whispered.

  “I for one feel hard done by,” Phillipa said. “I’ve never seen anyone being arrested.”

  Henrietta held her glass close to her mouth. “And why would you want to?”

  “To gain life experience, of course.”

  “Phillipa wishes to become a writer, Henrietta. That’s why she came to England,” Evie explained.

  “But you have writers in the Antipodes.” Henrietta glanced at Sara. “Who is that author you are reading at the moment?”

  “Miles Franklin,” Sara replied. “I’m thoroughly enjoying My Brilliant Career.”

  “If you haven’t read her book, I’m sure Sara will be only too happy to lend it to you.”

  Edgar strode to the door and spoke to a footman. Turning, he announced, “Detective Inspector O’Neill.”

  Evie swung around, happy for some news but quite ecstatic to have the conversation about baseball interrupted.

  “Detective.”

  “My apologies for intruding at such an hour, my lady.”

  “Please, join us. In fact, we are going in soon. Would you care to join us for dinner? I won’t take no for an answer.”

  “I’m… I’m not dressed for it, my lady.”

  “We don’t mind, but we would mind if you left us in the dark. I take it you came here to share some news?”

  “Yes, indeed, I have. But it might not actually be a suitable subject for the dinner table.”

  “After everything that’s happened, I think our sensitivities can withstand a shock or two.”

  “It’s about Miss Florence Green. If you recall, she excused herself to check the oven just as you were leaving the premises. When several minutes passed and she still hadn’t come out, I looked in the back room and found it empty.”

  Evie nodded. “We heard she had taken off.”

  “Yes, she tried to evade us, but we caught up with her. It took some doing and eventually we got a confession out of her.”

  Everyone leaned forward.

  “She poisoned both victims.”

  Confirmation of what they already knew had everyone gaping.

  “Did she give a reason?” Evie asked.

  “Jealousy. She said it tore her apart to see the victims with her man.”

  Florence Green had been the third person?

  “We have reason to believe she suffers from delusions,” the detective added.

  “What does that mean?” Henrietta asked.

  “She believed herself to be in love with Mr. Timms. She also believed he had encouraged her.”

  “So… it was all in her imagination?” Evie asked.

  The detective nodded.

  Heavens. She would never again complain about Caro. Her maid had been infatuated with Charlie Timms, but now that she knew he had paired up with Elizabeth Young, Caro was sensible enough to put it all behind her.

  Turning to Evie, the detective smiled. “It’s not often a member of the public proves to be of use to the police. We… we appreciate your input, Lady Woodridge.” His smile brightened. “With your assistance, we were able to capture a woman who had eluded the police for quite some time.”

  Sara and Henrietta exclaimed, “Really?”

  He pushed out a long breath. “She originally hails from Birmingham. She married quite young and her husband was over fifteen years older. He owned a store and did quite well for himself. Then, one day, he collapsed and died. Miss Green had been slowly feeding him poison. We believe she had been planning it for a
long while. Before anyone became suspicious, she fled.”

  Henrietta collapsed into her chair. “All this time, a poisoner had been living among us?”

  A poisoner who happened to bake the most delectable pies Evie had ever tasted.

  “Out of curiosity, did the doctor’s wife prove to be at all useful?” Evie asked.

  The detective gave a pensive nod. “It took some doing but she finally broke down and told me how she and Mrs. Howard-Smith had been in need of what they referred to as comfort food. She wouldn’t tell me why but she also revealed doing the same with Mrs. Hallesberry.”

  It surprised Evie to learn Mrs. Browning had not revealed anything about the affairs. Evidently, keeping it secret had been more important than helping to catch a killer.

  To think Florence Green had been the one to hold the strongest objections to the affairs…

  Looking up, she saw Edgar enter the drawing room. He stood at attention and gave a nod.

  Smiling, Evie announced, “Dinner is served.”

  Epilogue

  All’s well that ends well - William Shakespeare

  Evie looked up from her teacup and studied her butler. Edgar stood by the buffet table dressed in his smart suit and looking quite pleased with himself. Setting her cup down, she shuffled through the small stack of letters and found the one she had been expecting. Opening it, she inspected the contents and smiled.

  “Edgar.”

  He stepped forward. “Yes, my lady.”

  “Are you fond of the theater?” She needn’t have asked since Caro had already confirmed it, stating with absolute certainty Edgar harbored a true passion for the theater.

  “As a matter of fact, I am, my lady.”

  “I’m so glad to hear you say so. I have been trying to think of a way to express my gratitude. You have been ever so patient, filling in while Mr. Crawford visited his sister.”

  “I have been only too happy to help out.”

  “In any case, I have secured a couple of tickets to a show. It’s called The Unknown and it’s playing at the Aldwych in London. I thought you might like them.” Evie handed him the tickets and watched his eyes sparkle with excitement.