Darcy Meets Elizabeth In Kentucky

by Glenna Mason

  Jimmy never admitted that his name might have given direction to his personal studies, but, in any case, he was in demand throughout the world to lecture on the topic. Jimmy had met Claire on one of these literary travels.

  In her always mystery framed vision of the world, Elizabeth had often wondered that a Carstairs ended up with an Evans, because the two names were featured characters in Agatha Christie's famous novel, Why Didn’t They Ask Evans? She was reminded of the coincidence again now and grinned to herself.

  “Have you spoken to the Lindsays in Paris? Or the Breckinridges in Danville? Or the Harrises in Lancaster?” Jimmy Joyce continued.

  “Certainly, Jimmy Joyce,” said Sir William calmly. “Gage called his Uncle Richard Lindsay in Paris, as soon as we heard he had been hit too. And we ten owners have chatted and commiserated several times today via conference calls.”

  “Has no one had a ransom call?” Carroll Carel asked.

  “Not yet. We have all agreed to let each other know if one comes in. However, we believe that no one will receive such a message immediately, certainly not before the next business day, which is Monday. It is actually a smart strategy to keep us guessing for a few days,” Sir William said. “I'm not worried about the call. It will come. It is the amount that they will ask that is foremost in my mind. However,” he said, “even though I know it will seem usurious to me, it will not be unreasonable.”

  “Not be unreasonable, Sir William,” Gage shouted. “How can any amount not be unreasonable?”

  Sir William smiled at his son-in-law, who was also his estate manager. “By unreasonable, I mean not more than I will reasonably pay for the return of my mare and foal.”

  “Of course,” Gage said, “I am sorry. I see what you mean now. But as your farm advisor, I hate to see a single dime go toward this blackmail scheme.”

  “As do I, Gage, as do I!”

  “Perhaps,” Elizabeth said, “we should do something pro-active, not just wait for the blackmailers to call or the reporters to descend.”

  Kitty looked amazed at Elizabeth's audacity and spoke up for the first time all evening, “All well and good, Elizabeth, but what do you suggest?”

  “Well, I thought—,” Elizabeth began, starting to suggest a strategy that she had composed while dressing for dinner. However, she now hesitated, somewhat abashed by her sister's rather critical tone. Nonetheless Elizabeth knew what she wanted to do. This was her big chance to lead an investigation into a real crime. She sat up as straight as she could and said, with authority, “We might join forces. The police are so understaffed for such a monumental endeavor, so maybe we, in this room, can join forces and help them out.”

  “How, Elizabeth?” Kitty asked, recognizing in this little suggestion Elizabeth's penchant for all things mysterious, having lived with it virtually her entire life.

  “Well,” Elizabeth said, “we could split up and go down the lane and out by the highways and ask others, if they saw anything. Some could go to the barns on Pope Road and make sure no workers saw anything. They will talk to us more openly than to the police.”

  “But, Elizabeth, wouldn't any neighbor or worker volunteer any information right now?” inquired Jimmy Joyce, in a slightly challenging tone.

  “Yes, of course, Jimmy Joyce, if they know they have information worth disclosing, but what if they don’t.”

  “How could that be? The news is rampant with broadcasts of the kidnappings on every station,” Gage reminded Elizabeth in a decidedly exasperated voice.

  “It must be the subject of conversation of every resident of Claysmount,” Jimmy Joyce said.

  “Are we sure of that?” Elizabeth inquired.

  “Well—”

  “Many of our area workers don’t even speak fluent English. Who knows if they watch TV or read the newspaper? They are up at dawn and down by sundown, working nonstop with little time for frivolities. Many are isolated in their little farm world and others are recalcitrant loners,” Elizabeth said, now on a roll. “Can we be sure, Jimmy Joyce, they are even yet aware of the situation, much less speaking to the police about it?”

  Elizabeth stopped abruptly. Her energy for the altercation she had been thrust into had been accelerating with each new barb. But she now looked around the room at the others, who were apparently a little aghast at the somewhat vitriolic exchange between their three neighbors. Suddenly feeling a little flushed and rather foolish, Elizabeth turned to Sir William for rescue, asking, “What do you think, Sir William?”

  Gage, however, interceded, asking curtly, “What could they have possibly seen to report to us or the police, Elizabeth?”

  “Well, I thought a horse trailer,” Elizabeth said.

  “Horse trailers on Pope Road! Now there would be something to report!” Gage was getting quite sarcastic now.

  Sir William, hesitant to get in the squabble, which included his son-in-law, and yet grateful for Elizabeth's proactive stance, said in a somewhat noncommittal tone and yet with a spark of interest in the eyes, “Now, Gage, I actually think Elizabeth has an interesting idea.”

  Sir William had by now moved from the depths of his soft leather chair to a spot on its edge. “Not that many horse trailers would have been out as early as seven or eight in our immediate vicinity this morning. It is certainly worth a little simple investigation.”

  He glanced around the room at his intent friends and commented further, “That is, if everyone is game.”

  Excitement burst forth.

  “Good” Sir William declared, “Tomorrow is Sunday. We could split up the farms, the houses and even the businesses just outside Pope Road on either end and ask about a trailer. If we hear of a legitimate one, what is the harm?”

  Sir William's apparent interest in the project lit a spark of excitement around the room. Everyone commenced to talk and plan at once.

  He spoke again and the others quieted. “Maybe we can hone in on the crooks and save me time and money, after all.” Sir William paused. The others awaited his command.

  “Well?” he queried.

  “We're game, Sir William,” they said in almost perfect precision.

  “Good, then that is that. All we need is a little organized legwork. We'll meet back here on Tuesday for a dinner and a report. Shall we say six-thirty?” Sir William leaned toward Elizabeth and winked. Elizabeth beamed with pride and also blushed with gratitude.

  “Another round then?” Sir William offered. “Help yourselves this time, and we'll give Elizabeth a moment to collect her thoughts. This is her brainstorm. When we have a fresh drink, we'll reassemble for Elizabeth to give us our assignments.”

  Everyone stood, stretching and chattering, effusive with praise for Elizabeth and her idea. Kitty patted her on the arm and conceded, “I’m sorry I got that started, Elizabeth. I apologize.”

  “It’s alright, Kitty. You didn’t know Gage and J J would be so bold in disagreement with my suggestion. You just asked a simple question.”

  Elizabeth, somewhat disconcerted by the dispute, so public this time, took Kitty’s hand in hers and squeezed it gently. Smiling broadly, she said, “It may come to naught.”

  “But it is action, Elizabeth. That is the key. We all like to feel we are doing something positive for Sir William.”

  “Thank you, Kitty, for that vote of confidence. I was feeling a little silly.”

  “I know, Lizzy. I feel that way right now.”

  “I love you, little sister.”

  “And I, you, big sis.”

  Elizabeth moved to Sir William's side and spoke briefly with him. He nodded in agreement and appreciation. “Thank you, Elizabeth. That is a very practical and welcome suggestion under the circumstances.”

  The atmosphere was now quite convivial, even jovial, considering the reason everyone was gathered here this evening. After a half hour, Sir William coughed and stated, “Ahem. Ladies and gentlemen, let's hear what the lovely Elizabeth has in store for us, shall we?”

  Everyone readily ag
reed in a vivacious “Yes, let's” and resumed a seat near the recently stoked fire.

  “First I have spoken to Sir William and in view of the uncertainty of his future schedule, especially by next Tuesday—he may be in Upper Mongolia delivering ransom, after all—I would like to extend an invitation for you and any other Pope Road residents available by then to join me at Longbourn for Tuesday dinner. Cocktails at six-thirty.

  “Next all of the following are suggestions only and are subject to change or exchange. Jimmy Joyce and I are on Spring Break this week and so have the most time available to us, and so I have given the two of us the biggest load. Jimmy Joyce, I know you are not an expert on the computer, as I am not, but at least you have Claire to help you, and I know Claire is a master at the computer, so, Dr. Carstairs, you are our computer analyst. Find out what is being said. Separate the foolish from the possible—perform your best stream of consciousness mantra with the bloggers—and bring us back any available data of substance, if any in fact exists.”

  “Agreed!” said Jimmy Joyce proudly. “It sounds like fun!”

  “I cannot be credited with altruism. I gave it to you, so I didn’t have to do it. It doesn't sound like fun to me.

  “I shall take the rest of the Pope Road residences, which as you all know counts up to five: Tish Pope of Laurel Acres and the four homes in Jackson Retreat. If I find them amenable to the idea, I will ask the farmers in the group to check with their own employees. Otherwise, I will do it or call in for reinforcements.

  “Sir William will have his hands full getting together ransom money, getting ransom calls, keeping in touch with the other owners and possibly delivering ransom funds. That is his assignment. He needs no other.

  “Kitty, since you will be quite occupied too with the ransom accumulation, I'm only asking you to check the Bennet and Lucas employees to be sure none has had some catastrophic monetary crisis. Be sure there has been no major change in their finances.” She held up her hand to staunch his protest. “I know, Kitty, our employees are above reproach. I do not expect you to find anything.”

  The others looked at Elizabeth in anticipation, hoping they would not be left out, since the pickings now seemed lean at best.

  “Jane, since you are in general practice, your time is not your own. So I want you to assist Charles in asking the personnel at the Bennet and Lucas barns whether they saw anything suspicious this morning, especially a horse trailer, and if anybody has heard anything through the horse-world grapevine. Jane check the staff at our three Bennet houses too.”

  Jane and Charles grabbed hands and raised them linked together in a sign of “Okay, Lizzy.”

  “Maria, all the employees at Stantonfield adore you. Would you please speak to all the household staff at your house, as well as Sir William's? See if they have heard anything.”

  “Anything, Elizabeth,” Maria said. “In fact Charles has his patients too, very important ones, and is also on call at all hours. Jane, you and Charles just take the Bennet barns. Gage and I will take the Stanton barns and, the staffs at both our houses.”

  Elizabeth was secretly pleased and certainly not surprised. Elizabeth knew that if there was anything to find out at Sir William's barn, Maria would learn it.

  “Claire, Carol, Jewell, Tommy and Carroll, you all have the possibly most time consuming task, and potentially the most fruitful. Please split it up however you like. Go to the few houses at the end of Pope Road on the Lancaster Road end and the many stores on the Berea Road end and, if you have time, do as much as possible of the Richmond By-Pass between Lancaster Road and I-75, checking businesses and clients alike. Concentrate on the horse van idea, unless something leads you in another direction.”

  “Yea!” shouted Carol. “Thanks, Elizabeth, that sounds like loads of fun!”

  “I second that!” said Jewell.

  The guys and Claire seemed less animated about the project, but it did not matter. Elizabeth was sure that Carol and Jewell could handle this venture alone, if need be. Animated was the only way to describe the conversation of Jewell and Carol, as they planned their outing.

  *****

  The two ladies tried to include Claire, but she was resistant, apparently either bored with the whole thing or insulted to be paired with kids.

  “Claire is the least of my worries,” Elizabeth decided. “I have my own work to do. Carol and Jewell are vivacious and just plain cute. They can charm information out of the brick store itself, never mind the people in it. I don't need Claire Evan's good vibes or even participation.”

  As if on cue, Cameron appeared at the doorway, announcing, “Dinner is served, sir.”

  Sir William requested, “Dr. Elizabeth, may I escort you into the dining room?”

  Elizabeth, quite pleased that Sir William had singled her out tonight, arose and placed her hand on his arm and said, “Yes, Sir Lucas, you certainly may.” It was the final vote of confidence in her plan.

  “Then, ladies and gentlemen, will you please join Elizabeth and me at dinner?” Sir William asked and proceeded across the hall to the banquet-sized dining room.

  “Please find a place anywhere you please,” Sir William said, as he pulled out a chair for Elizabeth next to the head of the table, where he would seat himself when the ladies had all found a chair. The others happily spaced themselves quite appropriately, lady, then gentleman, around the table with some spouses opposite each other and some side by side. The table was set for twelve, but was easily big enough for twelve more had the rest of the street been available.

  Cameron and his staff served a five course dinner, keeping the wine flowing and in perfect concert with the courses being served, a light Chablis for the Bibb lettuce salad, a red Zinfandel with the creamy soup, then back to the white with the sole, a Sauvignon Blanc, followed by a choice of Merlot or Cabernet for the filet, and ending with either a Sauterne or Champagne to complement the Charlotte Russe.

  Elizabeth, hiding behind the flood of conversation from the others, allowed herself to drift into her mystery imagination spot for an instance. “If this were Godsford Park, she mused, one of the household would be planning a murder about now. Or if it were Murder on the Orient Express, we all would be—” and she chuckled under her breath, “—planning a murder, that is.”

  “Who would I choose for my prime suspect?” Elizabeth asked herself. “The charming, capable Carol Carel? Hardly, she is too well established as the ingénue of the establishment. Or the mysterious beauty, Tommy's wife Jewell, imported from the big city itself? Possibly. There could be a secret intrigue lurking in her unknown past. The host or his daughter? What a pair the two would make in league together; I'd not want to go up against them in an investigation. My brother-in-law or my sister? Too familiar. Charles, the handsome red-headed vet? He could have some interesting medicines at his disposal, if I wanted to write a poisoning into the plot. Hey, the same could be said for Jane. Maybe the vet and the physician would conspire. And as for myself? Does the narrator ever do the murder? In Poe's macabre tales he might. That leaves the Carstairs. I'm on a whimsy, of course, but to be truthful, if I were to choose someone at this table to be my actual antagonist it would have to be Claire Evans. I'd never cast Claire as a thief of horses of course. She does know one end from the other. But of all the actors at this table, Claire would land a starring role as villain in my dramatization of a murder mystery. She is a mystery unto herself. I do not know her any better today, than I did when Jimmy Joyce first brought her to Pope Road eight years ago.”

  With her thoughts roaming through this fantasy trip, Elizabeth suddenly became aware of Cameron once again filling her goblet with wine. Her mind flew from her imaginary flight of fancy to memories of Mary Robert Rinehart's The Door, the novel which probably started the “butler did it” scenarios, because in that long ago mystery, the butler actually did do it.

  “I don't suppose the butler did it,” Elizabeth inadvertently spoke aloud.

  Cameron in his trained fashion did not b
at an eye, but proceeded to the next glass and continued pouring the wine.

  Elizabeth, realizing that she had unintentionally accused Cameron of a crime, turned a beet red. The entire table stared with astonishment in her direction, some leaning far forward over the table to see her pale skin burnished bright red with an embarrassment. Sir William, sitting next to Elizabeth, burst into a hearty laugh. Everyone else followed.

  “It's alright, Cameron,” Sir William said. “Dr. Elizabeth is a mystery buff. We all know you didn't do it.” Sir William grinned encouragingly at his butler.

  Cameron bent a slight bow in Elizabeth's direction and replied, “Yes sir, we all know that Miss Elizabeth is a fan of the mystery.”

  The little goof actually metamorphosed into a sort of catharsis for everyone, a small jolt of hilarity, after an exhausting, stressful day.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  In a conference before leaving Sir William's dinner party, Elizabeth and Jane had decided that it would be fun for the girls to accompany them on their little Sunday caper. So her barn chores over, Elizabeth showered and dressed for Sunday calling in a fashionable violet linen suit with matching pumps. At eight sharp, Elizabeth headed out to her Mercedes coupe for the short drive up the pike to pick up Millie Kay, who would accompany her on the morning's adventure in detection. Jane, off work this Sunday, planned to take Libby Bell with her first to the Bennet barns and then for a chat with the house and yard personnel of the three Bennet Place residences. Libby Bell and Jane got to wear jeans. But whatever their apparel, both young ladies were in for a new experience.

  As Elizabeth coasted down her driveway, she was pleased to see scarlet reds, soft pinks, bright oranges and velvety purples competing for her attention in the formal gardens of her front yard. Flitting butterflies lit on her nascent lilac shrubs, whose tempting sweet perfume already scented the air.