A Merry Little Murder

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A Merry Little Murder Page 13

by Beth Byers


  Inkwell came through admirably and by the time that Violet and Kate had dressed, gathered up the letters and journals, and ordered tea to the main parlor, there was a chalkboard on a stand near the fireplace. Violet examined it and asked for one of the long rulers that would allow her to separate a list of names. She sketched out several lines while Kate watched without making a sound.

  “We’re going to make a list of names here,” Violet said. “Anyone we can think of who has the access to know too much about either one of you. Anyone who seemed to be in ‘love’ with Harriet or you, Kate.”

  Violet split the letters into their timeframes and started skimming the pages. At one point she paused and read, “My dearest Harriet, it pains me to see you weep over Knight’s grave. Don’t you know that God intended you for me? I am sorry that you lost your love, but it was always meant to be that he died. Just as you and I are meant to be. Be strong my love. We’ll be together soon.”

  Kate snarled. “Fate that took Ethan? Was it fate that took Monroe? I rather thought it was the Great War. Monroe and Ethan died to protect the country and the people they loved. You can be…be…damn sure that it wasn’t for this animal.”

  Kate slammed out of the room, and Victor rose as he said, “She can’t be alone. Just in case.”

  “Not you,” Violet told him. Lila nodded and followed Kate while Victor returned to his seat.

  “Why not me?” He tossed aside the journal he had been reading. “I feel as though I am peeping on poor Harriet while she bathed. This makes me sick to my soul.”

  Violet crossed to her brother, taking a seat across from him. “Kate loved Monroe Kimball. She lost him. If she’d married him as they intended, Kate would never have looked at you twice.”

  “Does she love him still? Do I have no chance?”

  “She’s interested in you,” Violet told her brother. “You have to accept that it isn’t just you running around in her heart. You don’t get her from the beginning like Lila and Denny. There will be parts of her that you never reach.”

  Victor slumped back. “I don’t begrudge that fellow the love he got or the life he lived.” The door had opened and Lila and Kate stood in the doorway, but Victor didn’t see them. “I’d bring her Monroe back for her if I could. I’d give Ethan and Harriet their happily ever after. I’m not a monster.”

  Kate wiped away a quick tear and crossed to the table where she’d been reading one of the journals. A few minutes of tense silence later, Kate said. “Oh, my heavens!”

  They all looked her way and she read, “I told Henry Wickham I would marry him today. I can’t think of anything I desire less, but to be honest, I don’t know if he’s the admirer. I hate that word. What a corruption. The animal. The hunter. The jackal. NOT the admirer.

  “I avoided both the kiss he wanted to press on me and made him swear to keep it silent. Every time he comes into the room, my skin crawls. Every time I see him I want to run. Only Mama Knight needs me. I won’t leave her. I’ll lie and avoid and care for her and when the day arrives that my Ethan takes his mother home, I will slip away.”

  “That makes so much more sense,” Lila said. “I didn’t understand how Harriet could have ended engaged to two men. Only…”

  “Only,” Denny said, “she was just trying to survive until Mrs. Knight died. It was a good plan.”

  “Mrs. Knight did die. She died and Harriet called off the engagements. She was cutting ties here and preparing to flee.” Violet sat down, looking at the others in horror. “She was leaving him. She was leaving the place where he could torment her.”

  “He couldn’t let her go,” Victor murmured. He glanced at Kate and then breathed out, “We talked openly about you going with us to the Amalfi Coast. If he hears…”

  “He might not let her leave,” Denny finished. “Even if she never goes anywhere ever again.”

  “This is what we need,” Kate said. “We’ll have my mother come visit and then start openly packing for me. She could make it into the shops and order me things. Talk about how Lila has persuaded me to come along. We could even use the trip you were talking about. Cuba? It might as well be hell itself to this person.” Kate indicated the stack of the letters.

  “No,” Victor said. “No.”

  “Yes,” Violet and Lila said.

  Violet added, “We just won’t leave her. We can keep her safe. If he tries for her, we’ll be able to end it all at once. We can come at him from both ways. We’ll keep hunting him, narrowing down who it could be. We’ll set things up, so he’ll have to act or let her go.”

  “No,” Victor said. “Not with her. Not with you. Violet, it’s not worth the risk.”

  “What risk?” Kate looked at Victor. “I am not intending to be cruel when I tell you that you don’t get to direct my actions. Sooner or later, I’m going to do something this man can’t forgive. Then it’ll be me strangled.”

  Victor looked as though he’d taken a direct hit, and Kate was almost pleading when she added, “I’m not strong like Harriet.”

  Victor turned, staring at Kate. He didn’t understand, and Kate explained.

  “I need him found or I’m leaving, and I’m not coming back. I won’t let him steal Mama and Father from me. I want him found. I want to be freed from…whatever this madness is.”

  Violet understood completely. It wasn’t just justice for Harriet, it was peace for Kate.

  “Oh, bloody hell,” Denny said. He had only been half-following the conversation as he flipped through one of Harriet’s journals. “Oh, bloody hell. I will find this bloke and murder him with my own bare hands.”

  All of them turned as the light-hearted Denny turned murderous as he read, “Mr. Long gave me one of the long-haired kittens. The cutest little thing you ever saw. Blue eyes, orange fluffy fur, a meow that sounded more like a sneeze than a cat. I…I don’t want to say what I am thinking, but…it’s gone. Before I could even name the kitten, it was gone. In the little basket I’d placed at the end of my bed for the kitten was, instead, a see-through nightgown. No explanation, but the kitten has not been seen. How does he get into my house? How did he get into my room? Why an innocent little kitten? Why is this happening to me?”

  Violet cleared her throat. “Ring the bell for Beatrice. I want the dogs with us at all times. No going out without leashes.”

  Victor stood. “I think the problem will be that we murder this fellow before Jack can take him in and then Jack will take us in instead.”

  “I am fine with that.” Violet pressed a shaking hand to her mouth and then said, “I want ginger wine. Did you bring some?”

  Victor nodded. Violet crossed to the chalkboard and wrote on it:

  MR. HENRY WICKHAM, THE ELDER

  MR. HENRY WICKHAM, THE YOUNGER

  ROBERT MOORE

  DONALD MOORE

  MR. LONG

  “Who else was watching Harriet so carefully when she sang?” Violet asked.

  Lila bit her lip, scrunching her nose as she considered, but Denny answered first. “Timothy Alberts.”

  Violet added the name.

  “When I lived here before Denny and I left,” Lila said, “Harriet had quite the admirer in both Robert, but also his friend Neville Crane. I’m not sure I would recognize him if I saw him, but it was possible he was there.”

  Violet wrote the name without an argument. They made their way through the journal, adding two more names that Harriet had considered. The list now read:

  MR. HENRY WICKHAM, THE ELDER

  MR. HENRY WICKHAM, THE YOUNGER

  ROBERT MOORE

  DONALD MOORE

  MR. LONG

  TIMOTHY ALBERTS

  NEVILLE CRANE

  “What about you, Kate? Is there anyone you would add that has bothered you?”

  Kate nibbled her lip for a moment and then said, “Neville Crane was the one who wanted to marry me and I didn’t want to. My father had to make him go away.”

  Violet put a star next to Mr. Crane’s name.
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  “I haven’t seen him in some time.” Kate tucked a hair behind her ear and shuffled the letters in front of her. “I’m not sure if he was there during the concert or not. If he was, he didn’t speak to me.”

  Violet just nodded and stared at the list. “Call your mother, Kate. Tell her she’s needed.”

  Kate left the parlor and Victor followed. She tried to smile when she realized she was being followed, but she didn’t seem to appreciate it even if Victor was attempting to be unobtrusive.

  “Neville Crane seems likely,” Lila said.

  “He does, indeed,” Violet stared at the board and then turned with a frown, “I don’t recall Harriet mentioning him in any of her journal entries. I feel like…I mean…surely he’s inserting himself into her life in his regular role as well. I can’t see it being someone who wasn’t part of her life in some way.”

  “That does heighten it, doesn’t it?” Lila asked.

  Denny rubbed his jaw. “I think it makes sense, to be honest. This fellow was enjoying how Harriet was afraid, how he was controlling her like a puppet. He’d want to have the power of being around her as himself with her being entirely unaware that the man across from her wasn’t that person she’d known since childhood or from Sunday school or wherever it was. He’d want to watch her watch everyone around her wondering.”

  “So perhaps not Neville?”

  “Except,” Lila said, “he switched so quickly to Kate. Why, unless he was already part of Kate’s life? Neville had been driven away once. Maybe he’d decided to come back this way instead.”

  Violet shrugged, wishing there was an easy answer. She picked up another letter and skimmed, looking for Neville Crane’s name while the others did the same, but they never found him mentioned.

  Chapter 19

  The parlor was neat because even though they’d spread across it, Violet couldn’t help straightening piles of letters or carefully lining up the journals they weren’t using on the mantle over the fireplace. The pillows were straight. The curtains were evenly pulled back to let the light in. The dogs lay in their beds near the fire, and the empty teacups had been returned to the tray.

  Something Violet was grateful for when Mrs. Lancaster came into the parlor, put her hands on her hips, and surveyed them like children. She sniffed once, said nothing, and then crossed to the chalkboard with the neat even lines and careful printing.

  Mrs. Lancaster stared at the board for a long time. “Mr. Long married a widow in Edinburgh and moved there. He’s been gone for a few months now.”

  Violet stood and crossed his name out. Mrs. Lancaster turned on them, eyeing her daughter carefully and then said, “Tea would be welcome.”

  Lila jumped to her feet and rang the bell for a servant. She shook her head as though she were stupid to have not called for a fresh pot before Mrs. Lancaster arrived. Victor had, after all, driven over to get her. They’d had time to prepare in that way.

  “Are you well, Kate?”

  Kate handed over the new letter as an answer. Her mother read the letter with a twisted mouth. “Did you drink? Did someone witness this?”

  Violet shook her head. “We think he’s guessing based off of how it was written. Yes, we had a cocktail. Only, we always do. Things were different for us yesterday. We had a bit of a ruckus about what has been happening. Our dinner was late, we had cocktails much earlier than normal. None of that was mentioned.”

  “Are you referring to the fit Mr. Carlyle had?”

  Victor blushed brilliantly as Violet demanded, “How did you know?”

  Mrs. Lancaster snorted. “I have eyes, don’t I? Damaged plaster, bruised knuckles. I grew up with brothers and went from a house with them to the house with my husband. Men aren’t the mysterious creatures they believe.”

  Violet giggled and then bit her lip at the completely inappropriate response.

  “You can always count on a man to have an emotional reaction,” Mrs. Lancaster told Lila, Kate, and Violet. “They’re such flighty creatures when you make a study of them.”

  Violet choked on another laugh.

  “The best thing to do, however,” Mrs. Lancaster continued, “is to let them assume they lead and then do as you wish. Most of the time, they don’t even realize they aren’t getting their own way.”

  Denny blushed as Lila choked back a laugh this time. Violet wasn’t even trying to hold them back anymore.

  “The thing to keep in mind is, however, the tantrums that ensue when they realize things aren’t just as they wish. Now then, I am to pack my daughter up for some ridiculous trip and tell everyone how excited I am that she’s off to…where did you say again?”

  “Cuba,” Victor supplied. “For some rum-based cocktails.”

  Mrs. Lancaster perused the letter in front of her. “That statement should certainly set this Puritan off on a tirade.”

  “Perhaps,” Kate said, “you should add in something about swinging by California as well.”

  Mrs. Lancaster paused. “You do realize that there is the whole of the United States between California and Cuba.”

  “It will set him off,” Kate told her mother, “as it is idiotic and the kind of thinking sinners and harlots would find reasonable.”

  Mrs. Lancaster snorted and then demanded, “Will you take this trip?”

  “Why wouldn’t we?” Victor asked. “I would like to bring some rum back to my collection. Perhaps a good number of kinds. It seems warm in Cuba, and the chill has gotten to my bones. I understand the ocean is beautiful there. The crossing is always fun. Cruise ships do such a good job of spoiling one. The dancing and music should be good. The wine flowing freely. Etcetera, etcetera.”

  “I’ll be sure to include that as well. They’ve decided to go to Cuba because the Honorable Mr. Carlyle would like to get some rum for his collection of spirits. Why wouldn’t you cross the Atlantic for such a reason?”

  Victor winked at Mrs. Lancaster as he said seriously, “One can read Shakespeare on a ship, however, for the purpose of this fellow, we’ll only be drinking and dancing. As for you, my good woman, seeing the world is surely more enriching than endless evenings at the Savoy or in the newest nightclubs?”

  “Why do I find you charming?” Mrs. Lancaster asked him seriously.

  He grinned and winked at her. “I have the good taste to find your daughter enchanting.”

  Mrs. Lancaster crossed her arms and jiggled her foot. “That is a very good reason and likely correct.”

  Victor lifted her hand, kissed it, and said, “Shall we save your daughter from this animal, arrange for some orphans, and become bosom friends? That is the word, isn’t it, Vi? I’ll get things sorted with this beauty and the orphans while you track the fiend. I don’t care for reading poor Harriet’s private thoughts. It makes me feel like the villain.”

  Violet huffed. “I know it’s only 10:00am, but I want a cocktail. Heavy on the gin. And a nap. Heavy on the lack of dreams. Possibly followed by this all having been a dream and dancing in the parlor. However, yes. You take care of the orphans, we’ll see what we can do about narrowing the field of the hunt for Jack and the policemen.”

  They read through the letters until they wanted to scrub their eyeballs clean of what they’d seen, but they didn’t find any reason to believe it was any one of the men. Violet stood in front of the list of names and read them over again:

  MR. HENRY WICKHAM, THE ELDER

  MR. HENRY WICKHAM, THE YOUNGER

  ROBERT MOORE

  DONALD MOORE

  MR. LONG

  TIMOTHY ALBERTS

  NEVILLE CRANE

  “I lean towards Neville Crane or the elder Mr. Wickham,” Violet said. “I don’t like that Mr. Wickham was with Martha so quickly after Harriet died. I don’t like that you’ve already had to run Mr. Crane off once.”

  “On the other hand,” Kate said, “he was run off once and I didn’t die.”

  “On the other hand,” Lila added, “perhaps Mr. Wickham was with Martha because sh
e’s a floozy.”

  Violet handed Lila the chalk and walked to the Chesterfield and laid out on it. Vi wasn’t used to so little sleep. “I wish he’d just come and knock on the door, demand Kate, and we could clobber him and be done.”

  “Then off to Cuba,” Lila trilled. “I don’t know anything about Cuba except a vague idea of where it might be.”

  “It’s completely natural to read about a cocktail in a magazine,” Violet said from the sofa, “and then decide to travel across the world to experience it.”

  “A completely natural reaction to being involved with a murder investigation,” Lila said. “Suddenly only the frivolous and light-hearted can be stood. We’ll need to cleanse our palette.”

  Violet laughed and curled into her side. Denny seemed to be engrossed in one of Harriet’s journals while Lila was staring at the list of the names on the chalkboard, frowning.

  “What’s wrong, luvvie?”

  Lila turned. “This list includes two of my cousins. My sister was caught with another of the men. Harriet didn’t ask any of us for help. We only came here for the holidays because we brought you and Victor as a buffer. It’s possible that I don’t know my family at all, and also that maybe I don’t want to.”

  Violet propped herself up on her hand. “Family is both created by fate and by choice. Those cousins of yours are fate as Algie and Merry are for Victor and I. My chosen family includes Victor, you, Denny, John, Gwen, Isolde, Gerald, Tomas, Ginny, Anna. My perfect family made of choice.”

  “Don’t forget Jack,” Denny said.

  Violet winked and said nothing. But yes. Jack. Indeed, Jack. Violet shivered. She hoped he would go with them to Cuba. That he would take their frivolousness in stride.

  Lila frowned at Violet, who lifted a brow at her. She didn’t seem convinced, so Violet continued. “Aunt Agatha chose me and Victor. She might have been our great aunt by birth, but she could have picked any niece or nephew to love. She chose us because we chose her. Family isn’t just about the accident of birth. You know that. We worked hard to find that couple to take Helen’s baby.”

 

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