by Beth Byers
Victor replied before any of the others could. “You seem to be mistaken, Miss Moore. I am pursuing Kate Lancaster because she is too clever by half, witty in all the best ways, and beautiful beyond imagining. I have little interest in schoolgirls.”
Martha gasped, but before she could spew more of her venom, sweet Lila slapped her. “Enough! You will sit down and be quiet. You will remain quiet, or so help me, I will see you sent to Cousin Millicent in Scotland for the next five years!”
Martha’s mouth snapped shut. Woebegone tears rolled down her face, but when Lila walked her sister to a chair and pushed her down, the girl sat. “Violet is my closest friend, and she will tell me if you disobey me. I will tell Aunt and Uncle about their child. You will answer the policeman, and you will answer them honestly because if I find out that you lied to them, I will see your fate is cemented into the back of beyond where they’ve never heard of cocktails, dancing, or jazz. You’ll be reading verses from the Bible to our elderly cousin and going to bed before dark until you wither away and die.”
Lila stared down Martha until the girl crossed her hands in her lap, nodded once, and turned her gaze downward. It was only then that Lila stepped away. Denny took her in his arms and said, “I am sorry I cannot go with you. Kate will take care of you, love.”
Lila shot her husband an exasperated glance. “I have little need of someone taking care of me. Pomeroy will get me to my aunt’s safely, and I’ll hold her hand while she cries. Kate, you tell my parents and have Mama come take care of Aunt Minerva. She’ll need Mama.”
Kate nodded. “We’ll see you to your aunt and then I’m sure Mr. Pomeroy will bring me to your parents and see us back?”
Pomeroy nodded.
Denny handed him his keys. “Take my auto, Pomeroy. If you need it, the rest of us can call up the house and have one of the servants come for us in the other auto.”
Pomeroy nodded and admitted, “I’ve just got a bicycle.”
The policeman left with Kate and Lila and the rest of them glanced down at Martha, who was sniffling into her hands until Victor sighed, pulling out a handkerchief. Before he could hand it over, Violet took it and gave it to Martha herself.
The girl looked up, saw Violet, and stared back down at her hands. She sniffled a little more, glanced at Victor out of the corner of her eye. At his cold expression, she turned back to her hands.
Jack looked at Denny and waved him over. Violet decided she wasn’t going to miss out on this unless Jack sent her away. Instead, she grabbed Victor’s hand and they followed.
Jack glanced at the twins, his expression recognized exactly what Violet had done, but he didn’t make her go back to the chairs.
Instead he asked, “Where did you find Martha?”
“In a dark corner of an empty room. The same room the ladies’ book club uses. They were…well…I might have been a few minutes before things proceeded to an entirely next level.”
Violet jumped a little, imagining it.
“Who was she with?”
“Henry Wickham! That was one who Harriet had been engaged to.”
Victor shifted. “The uncle or the nephew?”
Denny sighed. “The uncle. He must be forty. She’s seventeen. She just barely left school.”
Jack looked over Violet’s shoulder where the girl was. “What a cad!”
The men all seemed a little startled at Violet and she scowled at them. “Should she have been with him in that room? No. But she’s a child, and he’s an adult. Well into his adulthood. Her choices were stupid. His were unconscionable.”
Victor flushed, cleared his throat and then nodded. “You are right. I’m sorry.”
“The question isn’t whether he’s a cad. It’s whether he flicked his finger to gather up Martha after he murdered Harriet. What if he hurt Harriet and then used Martha as an alibi?”
“She’s just a kid,” Victor added.
Violet nodded and finished his thought, “A stupid kid who needed to have someone look after her better. Us. We’ve failed her. We let her run off and dance and thought she wouldn’t be stupid. We weren’t just wrong, we were neglectful.”
Violet tucked her hand into the crook of Victor’s elbow.
Denny winced and glanced back at his sister-in-law. They all shuddered. Martha had been horrible to Harriet for their entire visit. Was Violet’s assumption that one of Harriet’s lovers was the killer wrong? Perhaps the killer was Martha? She did have a hateful streak.
Violet shook her head. “Harriet had so many beaux. They all have to have been suspects. The men and the women who might have been thrown over when Harriet fluttered her lashes their way. Possibly including Martha.”
“You don’t think, really?” Denny didn’t finish the thought, and Violet was sure he was worried more about his wife than the brat, Martha.
“I think women are capable of more than we’re given credit for. Both for the good and the bad,” Violet said, but she hoped she was misguided when it came to Martha.
“We need to have Harriet’s body taken away,” Jack said. “We need to finish making a list of who was where when Harriet’s body had been found. This hall and this closet were used often over the course of the evening. There couldn’t have been much time between Harriet’s murder and the discovery of her body.”
One of the police assistants nodded and then said, “We can figure out who was where when the screams started, but if the killer left right after the murder—they aren’t on our list.”
“Have your men track everyone down to say where they were when the screams started and how many people they can remember seeing over the course of the day. This is going to be a case where we look at who might have had a motive to kill Harriet and whether they could have done so. Hopefully, they left behind some evidence to cement it all together.”
Violet shuddered and to her shock, Jack took her hand and squeezed. It wasn’t an overt act of affection—nothing that would make those around them uncomfortable—but she didn’t feel alone. Not in the desire to avenge Harriet, to discover the killer, or to see justice enacted. Jack was on the case, and he wasn’t pushing her out of the investigation.
Chapter 10
By the time they returned to Lila and Denny’s house, Violet had fallen asleep on Victor’s shoulder. Jack drove them back, walked them inside, and then went to find his man. Whatever the man would be doing, it was going to leave Giles to take care of the orphans alone. Violet considered and then asked Inkwell, “Do you have someone who can help Giles tomorrow since Mr. Thorpe will be engaged with assisting Jack and the police inquiry?”
Inkwell nodded. “We’ll see it done, my lady. Is…is Miss Harriet really gone?”
Violet nodded once and saw Inkwell take in the confirmation with concern and grief. He glanced beyond to Denny, who was walking his wife up the stairs. They’d delivered Martha home, picked up Lila, and left. Lila was pale with red, swollen eyes, and a shaky step.
“The missus will need us to see to things,” Violet said, “so she doesn’t have to.”
Inkwell nodded again. “All will go smoothly, my lady.”
“See to it that Mr. Wakefield has whatever he needs as well please. He’s been requested to assist with the investigation.”
Mr. Inkwell took the comment in stride. He’d either heard of Jack Wakefield, the sometime Scotland Yard man, or he was just so well trained that finding out that Jack worked with the police—something irregular indeed—it wasn’t enough to throw Inkwell off his stride.
“I’ll see to it, my lady.”
Violet walked up the stairs and found that her things were prepared for bed just as she’d guessed. Rouge barked when Violet entered but didn’t get up. The blankets were pulled back on the bed. Her eye mask lay on her pillow. Violet’s nightgown and kimono were laying over a nearby chair.
“Ya lazy thing,” Violet said to Rouge, scratching her ears. Violet turned to her vanity and took off her jewelry. She put the pearls into their case as well as her
gold and diamond choker. The rest of the jewelry she set just inside the box before locking it and then placing the box inside of a drawer that was also locked.
She put her shoes away and sat, slowly stripping off her silk stockings. Violet lifted one foot onto the opposite leg and rubbed her foot. Even before they’d stood in the hallway outside the closet where poor Harriet had been thrown aside, Violet’s feet had been hurting. They’d reached their limit from dancing, having gone from fine, to painful, to numb. Rubbing the feeling back was an exercise in madness and torture.
It was too late to bathe, but Violet was so tense she decided to anyway. She drew herself the hottest bath she could stand, adding in salts as well as oils. She wanted to think about who might have killed Harriet, but instead, she kept re-seeing the image of Lila turning into Denny’s chest and re-hearing that quiet, Oh!
The recollection left Violet shivering despite how hot the bath was. She dunked herself under the water, holding her breath for as long as possible and then rising enough to let only her nose leave the water. Violet was able to stretch out in the oversized tub with her legs only slightly bent. She stayed in the water, hoping her mind would clear, but she couldn’t gather her thoughts.
It was only when she left the bath and started to rub cream into her skin and face that she remembered what had happened before Harriet had been killed. That shift between her and Jack had finally occurred and it had slipped her mind. She hadn’t been able to relish the change. Their kiss should have ended with more dancing, his hands on her waist and then their first Christmas together. Especially since the last holiday had ended with Violet on a ship to the Amalfi Coast and Jack taking his father home with a broken arm.
Their growing relationship should have changed how she felt about the holidays now, but those feelings had been stolen away from her. Would their every holiday end with a murder? She shivered and took her journal with her to bed. She was too tired to write in it, so she ended up opening it, thinking she needed to work out who might have killed Harriet. Before Violet could even find the last page and think about taking notes, she fell asleep.
Sometime in the night, she woke whimpering and found Rouge had jumped onto her bed and was licking her face. Vi tucked the dog into her body, wrapping herself around the little thing, and slipped back into sleep before she could fully wake up. She woke again when Beatrice called Rouge from the room and then fell back asleep before Rouge was returned.
When Violet fully awoke, it was the feel of light on her face that woke her and the pain of the journal digging into her side. She’d forgotten to put on her eye mask or put her journal away. Vi moaned, squinting her eyes closed at the light. Her head was pounding. She hadn’t had too much to drink, but she hadn’t had enough sleep. Her body was achy enough to tell her that what sleep she’d been able to attain had been restless.
Violet pushed herself up and slowly dressed. She didn’t feel like wearing makeup, so she left her face bare. It took her a few minutes to decide what to wear and even then she ended up choosing the first dress in the armoire. It was grey and white with a dropped waist and a pleated skirt. Violet pulled on a set of grey wool stockings and then put on her most comfortable shoes.
She grabbed her journal and walked down to the breakfast room. When she got there, Victor had already arrived, but Lila and Denny had not come in.
“Jack?” Violet asked.
“Inkwell said he was up and gone at dawn.”
Violet shuddered and then made herself a cup of dark coffee. She liked the dark, bitter coffee, but she decided upon a good amount of cream and sugar after such a bitter night. Perhaps an indulgent coffee would somehow make her feel better.
Victor watched Violet return to the table without food and rose. He filled a plate with her favorite things, handed her a fork, and said, “You will be eating.”
She glanced his way, taking in his concern. “At some point, we’re going to have a holiday where we go to a party, put up a tree on Christmas Eve, put out the putz village complete with a train and little autos, and then we are going to have a feast where we sleep it off by the fire.”
“Well, that’s just boring, darling.”
“I would very much like a little bit of boring right now.”
“Eat,” he ordered, watching her until she took a mouthful of eggs. When he looked away, she dropped her toast and sipped her coffee.
He harassed her through breakfast until she finally shoved her plate away and said, “Leave me be!”
He leaned back, examined her, her plate, and then crossed his legs as though he hadn’t been watching her every bite like a worried grandmother.
Violet examined him in turn. “You really do have feelings for Kate.”
He cleared his throat, shifting. “Ahh.”
Violet didn’t need to say anything else, so she just asked, “Did you write to Gerald and Isolde?”
He nodded. “I did. Thank you for asking, little Mother. Did you write to Father and Lady Eleanor?” She scowled at him and he smirked, “I did.”
“Well, aren’t you the best of children?”
Before he could tell her that he was, the breakfast room door opened and Jack and Pomeroy arrived. They examined the twins and looked about—probably for Lila and Denny.
“Come and eat,” Violet suggested. “Surely, you’re ready for a break and something to keep you going? The coffee is wonderful, but there’s tea as well.”
“I…” Pomeroy blushed and then said, “I don’t mind if I do.”
“Lila and Denny haven’t come down yet,” she said as Jack and Pomeroy both loaded up plates with a large pile of eggs, toast, and bacon.
“We can get started without them,” Jack said over a bite of eggs and toast. “It seems that Harriet and Lila were quite close as children. We’ve heard it again and again. Only Lila went away to college and married Denny and didn’t come back home very often, and Harriet has been here the whole time.”
“She didn’t strike me as a girl who would stick around a small town like this,” Violet said.
“Like Kate, Harriet lost her love in the war. She took care of his mother while she was ill. The woman passed away about a year ago. Since then Harriet has been wild.” Pomeroy sighed and said, “I think she’d have been a different girl if her love had made it through. He didn’t last more than a few weeks in the trenches. It was like the life had been sucked right out of both Harriet and his mother. The war was over within a few weeks after that. Poor kid. He was just old enough to die before it ended.”
Violet winced. Victor had just missed the war because he’d broken his arm and collarbone. By the time he’d healed up enough to be sent out, it was over. Moments like these made Violet utterly aware of how lucky she’d been to keep her twin. Jack, on the other hand, had served in the war and ended up working with the military police. It was those very skills that had him working for Scotland Yard even though he didn’t need the money.
The table fell silent at Harriet’s tragedy and then Violet admitted, “I wouldn’t have expected that of her. Taking care of her love’s mother. Harriet was so lively. Sitting by the bedside and caring for the sick? I feel even worse about her death now.”
“Murder like this?” Jack shook his head. “It’s always a tragedy.”
Violet nodded, feeling even worse. When Danvers died, Violet had felt as though his death had been deserved. Not right—but he’d brought it on himself. He’d ruined lives. When Bettina Marino had been murdered, it had been terrible, but Bettina had played with hearts and fortunes. Her death had seemed the terrible effect to the causes of her own making. Violet hadn’t seen much to redeem Bettina even though Vi regretted her death.
But Harriet, her loss brought back the loss of the first murder Violet had experienced. Aunt Agatha, the woman who had raised and loved the twins. Violet bit her lip, facing the memory of it again. That hollow in her center was back and the dark pain of loss and anger returned. Violet swallowed thickly, taking a sip of her coffee so sh
e didn’t have to say anything.
She was sure that Victor and… She glanced up and saw Jack’s penetrating gaze fixed on her face. He knew she was fighting her loss. Victor’s eyes shone with a similar pain. She leaned into him and they turned to the Pomeroy.
“I was with Jack the whole evening,” Violet said. “Victor, were you with Kate?”
“Neither of you are suspects,” Pomeroy said. “To be honest, whoever killed Miss Harriet Moore hated her. It was a vicious killing.”
Violet shuddered at that and set her coffee cup down carefully before she ended up spilling it over the table with her shaking hands. As she folded her hands in her lap, the door of the breakfast room opened and Lila and Denny entered.
Lila looked as though she had cried all night. The bags under Denny’s eyes said he’d held her throughout the night while she did. Violet rose and hugged her friend tightly. Lila shuddered into Violet’s arms and then said, “I’m so sorry this happened. I…you were doing so well. And now…I…I’m sorry. I’m just sorry.”
Violet rubbed Lila’s back and whispered, “You stop it. You stop it right now, my love. You didn’t do this. You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s all right.”
It took a few minutes for Lila to settle back down and when the two women looked over, each of the men were carefully looking away, entirely uncomfortable.
Violet glanced at Lila, whose lips twitched. A second later, Violet’s giggle escaped her and all of the gentlemen stared at the laughing Violet as though she had gone mad. Lila’s laughter joined in and the men floundered, looking at each other as though silently fighting over who would deal with the suddenly crazy women.
Chapter 11
“Oh,” Lila said finally. “These poor helpless lads. They are trying so hard to be stoic and solemn.”
“While you cry and make them uncomfortable.”
“Let alone,” Lila said, giggling, “the terror of the merry Violet descending into the doldrums again. Look at poor Victor and Jack watching you so carefully while praying you don’t start weeping too.”