A Murder Most Odd

by Beth Byers

  “Mmm, I don’t know,” Rita said. “Jerome isn’t like that.”

  Vi looked at his name and didn’t look at her stepmother and then just moved on to the next name.

  PERCIVAL BATTING — Longtime friend of Reese Stafford.

  Vi stared. There was no other reason to be suspicious, but she added:

  Was at the table with Reese when he died.

  A moment later, Vi added the same sentence behind Jerome and then looked over the gazes of her family. As she took a delaying sip from her coffee, her twin rescued her.

  “I can’t think of anything else of those two,” Victor said, not meeting Vi’s gaze, so neither of them would be tempted to react. “Anyone else? Rita?”

  Rita shook her head. “I can’t imagine any of them on the list as having killed Reese. Except for the treasure hunter since I don’t know who that is yet.”

  “It’s a start to get us thinking,” Ham said. “It’s late. Let’s finish the list and sleep on it.”

  The next name on the list was Loopsie. Of all the names, Loopsie and Jerome were the ones that Vi had the most contact with. Vi took a deep breath and then wrote secrets she’d noticed from Loopsie that the other woman would not want the rest to know.

  Reese’s lover. Things were shaky among the couple. Possibly their relationship was ending? Or possibly it had never been as strong as Loopsie desired. The couple had been in a bit of a situation with the Lissows that had been broken up by Ham and Russell.

  Vi glanced at Rita who nodded. “I never thought they’d end up together. Melvin and Loopsie, yes, but not Reese.”

  “Maybe she was an easy target after her breakup with Mr. Lissow,” Kate said. “I have never been in love and lost, but I have seen other girls go through that. I’ve seen other girls make choices while they’re hurting that they might not have made when they weren’t.”

  Vi had seen the same thing. It was as though because they’d been thrown over, they needed their previous lover to know they were wanted. That he hadn’t been their only option and that happiness wasn’t related to them. Vi wrote:

  Perhaps Loopsie realized her relationship with Reese was coming to an end and she decided to seek revenge.

  Vi hated writing those words about another woman, but just like with murdering over treasure, murdering over scorned love had happened before and would happen again. Vi moved from Loopsie to the Lissows. The words after them were easy as Vi didn’t know or care about them.

  Had been in a shoving match with Reese and Loopsie. What was the bad blood between them and did it provide a motive for murder?

  Vi glanced at Rita who shrugged. “I don’t know. Loopsie and Melvin were close for a long time, but Reese didn’t have anything to do with that. Perhaps if Betty Lissow died, I could see how Loopsie might have done it. But Reese? Loopsie would have wanted to draw him back to her, not murder him.”

  Vi glanced at the rest of them but no one else seemed to have done more than have a passing chat with the Lissows, so Vi added the same sentence about them having been at the table with Reese and then moved to the next entry: Philip Russell.

  Bride’s father. He knew Reese Stafford for years, but there was no bad blood between them. At one time Reese aspired to Rita’s hand, but surely he knew those days were gone. Russell has a lot of money and power. Why would he need to murder someone who was as seemingly useless as Reese Stafford? Was not at the table with Reese. Where was Russell when Reese died?

  Under both Ham and Rita, Vi wrote:

  We don’t have time for this nonsense.

  For the treasure man, Vi wrote:

  Tried to win the treasure. Did he win? If he didn’t, did he know or suspect that Reese had won? Would this man have killed to get the prize? Jack had seen the man arguing with someone. Was that someone Reese Stafford? Who did win the prize?

  Vi glanced back at everyone only just then daring to meet her stepmother’s gaze, but Vi kept her own gaze moving, so Lady Eleanor couldn’t read the guilt in her eyes.

  “What do we need to know?” Vi asked.

  “Did he really die of poisoning and does the doctor know how long before it would have been given to him?” Ham said, and Vi wrote it down as he spoke.

  “Have we realized how the poison was administered?” Jack said.

  “Did he have any debts?” Victor posed that question, and he was followed by his wife who asked, “Or any enemies?”

  “What were Reese and the Lissows arguing about?” Ham added.

  “Was there a recent trip that ruined friendships?” Denny asked and then yawned.

  Violet looked at the list of questions and then wrote another list. This one read:

  MOTIVES

  LOVE— Loopsie? A former lover we don’t know about?

  MONEY— the treasure? Possible debts.

  ENEMIES— Who hated Reese? Surely someone must have.

  POWER— Reese was a man of leisure who traveled, adventured, and seemed to be happy enough. Maybe he knew someone else’s secrets and he was killed to keep him silent?

  REVENGE— Did Reese sleep with someone else’s wife or lover? Did he cheat on a game? Maybe he cheated in money?

  “I liked Reese well enough,” Ham said. “He was handsome and funny. It’s hard to believe he was murdered over anything we’ve talked about.”

  Vi read their list and didn’t disagree. Reese had been friendly enough. He wasn’t mowing through the ladies. He didn’t seem to be darting off to secret games of chance or stealing into someone’s rooms. He got up early, explored. He was friendly to those who talked to him, but he wasn’t the one who was eyeing Rita’s fortune like Percival Batting. Reese wasn’t the one hunting in other men’s beds, like Jerome Albertson.

  “If I had decided to murder one of your old friends,” Vi told Rita, “it wouldn’t have been Reese Stafford.”

  Rita nodded and then put her coffee cup aside. “He doesn’t feel very murderable.” Rita laughed at her grammar guff and then her frown returned. “We need to talk to people. We need to find out who knew what, so we can find out where the reason for this murder is, because right now, I think the wrong man was killed.”

  Vi stepped away from the chalkboard and looked at her friends.

  “Let’s sleep on it,” Ham said.

  “We’ll cross off more names tomorrow,” Jack added. “Once we’ve done that, we can dive into those who are left a little more deeply.”

  They gathered up as soon as the questions dried up. Or the answers. It seemed after listing everything out, there were more questions than when they started. Vi hugged Rita tightly, whispering nonsense, knowing that Ham would look after her.

  The rest of them said goodnight to each other and as they left, Victor told Kate, “I think the girls should go home tomorrow.”

  “I can help solve this,” Kate told him.

  “I know.” Victor smiled winningly before he got in trouble for trying to protect her. “We’ll take them home. Lily is welcome as well.”

  Denny nodded. “Yes. Lily and the girls. Isolde’s son if they think. They can all go to your house, just in case.”

  Vi told herself to stop by the nursery before the babies were gone and then let Jack lead her to their bedroom. Since they were nearly all on the same floor, they moved towards their room in a crowd. Which led to them stopping by the nursery as a group. The nannies shooed them all away, and they found themselves in their respective bedrooms.

  Was everyone else staring at their husband or wife in shock? Vi could imagine Victor pulling Kate close and promising that all would be well. It was too easy to think of Ham telling Rita they’d marry no matter what. Denny and Lila had probably curled into sleep in moments with nary a worry.

  Vi glanced at Jack. “At least Ham isn’t the suspect.”

  Jack winced. When it had been their wedding, he’d been arrested and Vi had hired Smith and a whole team of other private investigators to save Jack from the crime it seemed he had committed.

  “We got throug
h that one,” Jack told her. “We’ll get through this one.”

  Vi nodded and changed into her favorite pajamas and kimono. When she climbed into the massive bed next to him, she did so grateful that she would sleep in his arms, hear his heartbeat, and wake to the surety that whatever else happened, their friends would be all right in the end.

  Chapter 12

  Violet woke and turned to find Jack had already gone. Had Scotland Yard arrived? Or perhaps Jack had woken up and realized something no one else had. Vi considered rushing out of the room, but she’d slept restlessly and her body hurt. She needed her mind in the clear, so she started a bath with Epsom salts. While she washed her face, there was a knock on the door. Vi crossed to open it and found an equally exhausted looking Rita bearing a tray with coffee cups.

  Vi waved Rita in and then saw Beatrice behind her. The water was still running, so the other two crossed to the door of the bath. Vi slid into the water, while Beatrice arranged chairs near the door, so they could hear each other.

  “Have we learned anything new?”

  Rita answered, “They confirmed it was the soup that was poisoned, and since only he died, he was the one who was intended to die, and it was deliberate.”

  “And,” Beatrice added, “he got food for himself and Loopsie. She was holding for both of them, so she didn’t couldn’t have just dumped something in his bowl and then batted her lashes through the confusion.”

  “It must have happened at the table unless some madman poisoned the bowl, not knowing who was going to die.” Violet laid back in the water with her coffee, sipping slowly, and willing her mind to work clearly.

  “Did Smith learn anything?”

  Beatrice cleared her throat and admitted, “He said he searched Reese’s room. The local constables had already taken his private papers, so he disappeared. If he learned anything while he was making himself comfortable at the police offices, I don’t know it yet.”

  Rita’s choked surprised made Vi laugh and she turned around to meet her friend’s gaze. “Surely you expected that from Smith.”

  “I did.” Rita rubbed her face. It was bare of cosmetics, making the blue-grey circles under her eyes all the more prominent. “I guess it’s just always surprising to me that Smith so casually enters places that others would refuse to go.”

  Vi met Rita’s gaze and grinned. “Don’t you want to know how he does it?”

  Beatrice shifted and Vi gasped, turning to meet her gaze. “He’s been teaching you.”

  “Smith’s way of protecting someone he loves is shoving them into the lake and seeing if they can swim.”

  Vi was the one who laughed in surprise. “I don’t know why you love him.”

  Beatrice flushed and said, “When he turns all of that attention on you, it’s…”

  “Intoxicating,” Rita said for all three of them. Smith, Jack, Ham—they were similar kind of men. Smith might be on the more wicked end of the spectrum, but when it came right down to it, they weren’t all that different.

  “It is,” Beatrice muttered. “If he didn’t put an act on for my mother and pretend to be some sort of curate who had missed his calling, she would be appalled. If she had any idea—any at all…”

  Vi bit her lip and turned, so they could see each other. The rim of the bath covered her necessary bits, and they needed to discover more.

  “I heard you sat with Loopsie last night.”

  “I did,” Beatrice said. Her expression flinched. “She seemed broken, really. I had talked to her a time or two the day before.”

  “Did you learn anything?” Rita asked.

  She shook her head. “There was a lot of weeping and inconsolable muttering. No one approached her or comforted her. That married couple she’d been struggling with sent her a few dark looks, but they didn’t seem to mean anything. Those three just hate each other.”

  Vi ran the washcloth over her legs and sighed. Vi had wrapped herself in a towel and was flipping through her dresses when her door opened without a knock.

  She gasped and spun as Smith entered her room. They met each other’s gazes and Vi gasped, darting into a corner.

  “Leave!” Beatrice told him.

  “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before,” Smith told her. “Besides she’s more covered now than she normally is.”

  “Smith!” Rita snapped. “Get out.”

  “I only have a minute.” He ignored their gasps and snapped, “Quiet. There are constables in the hall here. They caught me in Loopsie’s room and chased me through the house. One of them, the dirty bastard, is remarkably light on his feet.”

  Vi stared in shock at Beatrice’s expression that announced there was nothing to be done. A moment later there was a knock on the door and Smith crossed the floor and slid under the bed as silently as a ghost. Vi glanced at the other two and called, “Yes?”

  “Constable Kegley here, ma’am. I’m looking for someone who came this way.”

  “Ah, well, whoever it is, isn’t here.”

  “I need to see for myself, ma’am.”

  Vi meet Rita’s gaze, shaking her head in irritation. “I’m not dressed.”

  “Ma’am,” the man said, “we’re hunting a murderer. I need to see you’re all right.”

  Vi looked down at herself. She really was more covered than she was in an evening gown. In sheer irritation, Vi opened the door and peeked around. “I’m not dressed, as I told you. I assure you if someone had broken into my room and refused to leave, you’d see me seething. Now leave.”

  The constable flushed and Vi realized that the horror on his face wasn’t just because she was wearing a towel, it was because she was Jack’s wife. “Go, sir, before my husband finds you refusing to leave when I am not dressed.”

  The constable almost ran away. Vi spun on her bare feet and told Smith, “Jack might like you, Smith. But he’d murder you for this.”

  “Half-murder,” Smith offered. “One of those within an inch of my life things. Better than being convicted of a murder that I didn’t do. I’d have to break out of prison and go on the run, and it would come down to you or me with my darling, upstanding Beatrice there.”

  “You need to leave,” Beatrice told him.

  “Or,” he countered, “Vi could get dressed and I could impart what I’ve learned. Better to tell you here than where some of the suspects can see. I’ve been inserting myself among them, and once it’s ruined, it’s impossible to recover.”

  Vi rubbed her brow, stomped to the bathroom and begged, “Someone give me a dress please. And the rest of it.”

  Only moments later, Beatrice was handing Vi unmentionables, stockings, and a comfortable grey dress with matching shoes. Vi dressed quickly, popped the turban off her head, and fluffed her hair.

  “There we are,” Smith said evilly. “No harm and all of that. But don’t get used to Beatrice waiting on you again.”

  Vi could have imagined her head exploding. Instead she demanded, “What did you learn?”

  The low fury just amused the man. There was nothing to be done but recognize he was all devil and she hadn’t thrown him out of her life in enough time to save herself or her friend, Beatrice.

  “Smith,” Rita snapped. “We don’t need Ham and Jack to strangle you. The three of us could handle it.”

  Smith just grinned wider and then said, “Reese was hard up. But not so much he couldn’t recover.”

  “I believe that was rather usual with him,” Rita said.

  “If he worked, he’d have had an easy time of things.”

  “He was never going to do that,” Rita said. “He’d rather take his last five pounds, a tent, and go for a ramble until the next round of funds came in.”

  “Yes,” Smith agreed, “I gathered that. He had a well-worn guidebook and maps with him. There were future routes planned.”

  Rita didn’t seem surprised in the least. “So it wasn’t money?”

  “Oh, he wanted that prize money. He has books on Antartica, the Galapagos Islands,
the Amazon jungle. He had a list of exotic places he wanted to visit. I can’t imagine that any of those are a place you can go with five pounds.”

  Vi rubbed the back of her neck and considered.

  “Reese once stowed away on a steamship rather than pay the fare,” Rita muttered. “He didn’t get caught either. I don’t think it was the first time he did something like that.”

  Smith nodded. “Easy enough if you’re brazen and clever.”

  “Easy?” Beatrice gasped.

  “Think about it, darling,” he said to her. “Give me your theory and I’ll tell you if you figured it out.”

  “It’s like he’s training her to be like him.” Rita stared at the couple. “How utterly alarming.”

  They were the oddest mix that Vi or Rita had ever seen and yet somehow, when it was only Smith around, you could feel what he felt for her. Intoxicated by Beatrice seemed accurate. Obsessed even. It was good that despite being nearly all devil, Smith seemed to translate love to care and attention, and not control. As much as Vi might have thought otherwise, he was a devoted lover. He was like a lion on a leash that listened only to that one voice.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Smith suggested.

  Rita shook her head and then shook it off. Today wasn’t the day to worry about Beatrice. They had a killer to catch. Vi ran a brush through her hair as she shook off the irritation that was Smith.

  “Have we discovered if Reese would have won?”

  Rita nodded. “He was the one who turned the answer in the earliest. Father said that Dr. Shelby Hollands and his brother were the next ones.”

  “The doctor?” Vi gasped. “Could he have done it?”