The Cheater's Game: Glass and Steele, #7

by C. J. Archer

  Ronnie nodded slowly. "When you put it like that, it sounds like a good idea."

  Matt could convince a Conservative to vote Liberal if he used the right tone.

  "I'll visit the Watchmaker's Guild this afternoon to apply for the test," Ronnie said. "Hopefully I can sit it within days."

  "In the meantime, I'll have the paperwork for the lease drawn up," I said.

  "And the sale of the stock." Ronnie put out his hand to me. "Pleasure doing business with you, India."

  Catherine kissed my cheek. "Thank you," she whispered. "You won't regret it. We're going to work very hard."

  "The place will need cleaning first," I said. "It's been sitting idle for a while and is quite dusty."

  "I don't mind rolling up my sleeves."

  "I'll send someone around to help you."

  She narrowed her gaze at me.

  Ronnie looked toward the door and grunted. "Father's going to be furious."

  I wasn't sure if he was referring to the shop or Cyclops, and I didn't dare ask.

  We were all about to sit down to lunch together when Detective Inspector Brockwell arrived. "I am sorry to interrupt," he said, when Bristow brought him into the dining room at Matt's request. "I wanted to update you, but I see you're about to eat. I'll come back later."

  "Nonsense," Matt said, pulling out a chair. "Come and join us."

  "You're very welcome," I added.

  "As long as it's all right with Miss Glass," Brockwell said, bowing in her direction.

  "Quite all right," she said. "We're being rather formal today, since we're all here, but don't worry about your attire."

  Brockwell looked down at himself and smoothed a hand over his wrinkled jacket. His tie was a little crooked and his sideburns needed a trim, but I couldn't imagine him any other way.

  "He looks fine to me," Willie said as she tucked the napkin into her collar.

  "I'm sure he does, Willie dear."

  Brockwell smiled at Willie. She smiled back. I blinked owlishly at them both.

  Peter and Bristow placed plates on the table and stepped back out of the way. The fish, chicken and salad dishes were more than we were used to for luncheon. Ordinarily, sandwiches sufficed, but Miss Glass had decided that since we were all in the house, something more substantial was necessary, particularly as we didn't know if we'd be home for dinner. Matt was already talking about returning to The Prince of Wales early to conduct inquiries.

  Brockwell accepted the dish of Chicken Fricassee from Matt and all but smacked his lips in delight at the feast. "This is most generous of you, Glass," he said. "I'm very grateful to be included in your family repast."

  "Think nothing of it," Matt said.

  "I only came by to ask India a favor, and to tell you the results of our ballistics tests on the gun."

  "No!" Miss Glass's voice cut through the air like a siren. "No, no, no. There will be no talk of the investigation at the table."

  Willie muttered something under her breath and dropped the plate of roast potatoes on the table with a thud.

  "I thought it was only the dinner table when such discussions couldn't be had," I said.

  "Luncheon too," Miss Glass noted. "Breakfast is fine, however."

  Brockwell put up his hand, and the knife he held, in surrender. "I'll keep that in mind."

  Willie chuckled.

  The inspector's cheeks colored as he realized how he sounded. "Not that I'll come by at breakfast time again."

  "You might," Willie said cheerfully. "If it's necessary."

  "I doubt it would be necessary under any circumstances," Miss Glass said snippily.

  Willie grinned into her napkin.

  We made polite small talk over lunch before finally retreating to the drawing room. Miss Glass did not join us, for which I was glad. She didn't seem to care much for the inspector. Although I hadn't liked him at first either, I had to admit he was a good man and a thorough policeman. Miss Glass probably didn't like him because he wasn't from the upper classes, but neither was I—nor Matt's friends.

  On further thought, it had taken her quite some time to get used to us, so there was hope for the inspector.

  Before leaving us, she'd told him smoking was to be confined to the smoking room. Willie waited until she was gone before offering the inspector a cigar.

  He politely declined. "I wouldn't want to offend Miss Glass."

  "She ain't here," Willie said, taking one from the box.

  I took it off her. "She'll smell it. You can smoke alone in the smoking room, if you like."

  She looked to Brockwell. "I'd be delighted to join you after this meeting, Willie," he said.

  That seemed to appease her and she finally sat, sitting like a man with her legs apart.

  Brockwell removed his notepad and a small pencil from his inside jacket pocket. "The bullet almost certainly came from Emmett Cocker's gun," he said, flipping the pages. "Therefore it's likely he knew the killer well enough to allow them to get close enough to his person to retrieve it."

  "Which means it wasn't Jack Krane, the outlaw," Matt said. "The only way Emmett would let him close is if he was incapacitated first."

  "And there were no signs of a fight or struggle on the body."

  "That eliminates one suspect," I said.

  "Not necessarily." Brockwell referred to his notes. "What if Krane sent the blonde woman here to lure Cocker into a trap?"

  "That's an elaborate scheme," Matt said, "but not out of the realms of possibility. She's certainly worth finding so we can question her."

  "That's the problem," Duke muttered. "Finding her."

  "I have some information that may help." Brockwell tapped his pencil on the notepad. "One of the show's cast claims she saw her at a lecture at the New Somerville Club on Oxford Street."

  "And?" Matt prompted. "Did you question the staff or other club members?"

  "They were most unforthcoming."

  "It's a ladies’ club," I told Matt. "Gentlemen are not welcome."

  "He's a detective inspector," Duke said. "Can't he go in anyway?"

  "I could, but would they freely answer my questions?" Brockwell shook his head. "I think not. I would not want to pressure them and have them close off completely."

  "That's wise thinking, Jasper," Willie said.

  He squared his shoulders and looked thoroughly pleased with her compliment.

  "Do you want me to infiltrate the New Somerville Club?" I asked. "Is that the favor you wanted from me?"

  "Infiltrate might be too strong a word," Brockwell said. "I'd like you to ask questions."

  "That won't get answers." Matt hesitated, as if he were unsure he wanted to continue.

  "I have to be more subtle," I offered. Matt nodded. "I have to pretend the blonde is a friend. Perhaps she asked me to meet her there. Indeed, there's a chance she might turn up again anyway, to take advantage of all the club has to offer."

  "What does it offer?" Cyclops asked. "Just lectures?"

  Brockwell referred to his notes again. "Intellectual and robust debate on political, social and literary questions of interest to the educated woman." He flipped the notebook closed. "Members also have the opportunity to meet with friends for luncheon or afternoon tea for a small cost in the club's social rooms."

  "Sounds like a gentleman's club," Matt said. "But for a more intelligent membership." He smirked.

  "With less gambling," Brockwell added, also smirking.

  "I don't know any members," I said. "They won't allow me in."

  "I believe you can join on the night," Brockwell said. "They commonly have newcomers joining just for the lectures. The membership fee is low to attract women of limited means."

  "Then I'll go tonight."

  "Not tonight. Wait for tomorrow night's lecture. It seems those evenings draw a larger crowd. You'll blend in better."

  "Take Willie with you," Matt said.

  "You wanted subtle," Duke reminded him.

  "I can be subtle." Willie jerked he
r chin at Brockwell. "Where in Oxford Street?"

  "Two-thirty-one, above the ABC tearoom. ABC is the abbreviation for the Aerated Bread Company. The tearoom also provides the meals and refreshments for the club."

  "Tomorrow night, then," Willie said. "Do I have to wear a dress?"

  "I think you'll be accepted the way you are."

  "Don't wear your hat," Duke said. "That way they can see you're a woman. Wouldn't want you to get turned away at the door."

  Brockwell pocketed his notepad and pencil. "Have you learned anything useful, Glass?"

  "May Draper is lying about that night." He told the detective inspector his theory about the Drapers being home alone on the night of the murder and the likelihood that one or both of them had returned the gun to Emmett's room.

  "Unless they weren't there at all, and someone else returned it," Brockwell said.

  "I've thought about that, but why lie and say they were home if they weren't? It just makes them seem guilty."

  "There is certainly something strange about those two. I don't trust them."

  "We're returning to The Prince of Wales tonight to see what we can learn from the other cast members," Matt said. "We established relationships with some on our last visit, and they don't yet know that we're working with you."

  "I'm good friends with Annie Oakley," Willie announced.

  "You're acquaintances," Duke said. "She ain't your friend."

  "She is. We got up to some things the other night that only friends do together, but I can't say what on account of I don't want to put Jasper in a difficult position. And India's too prim to hear it."

  I rolled my eyes.

  "Since you're going to the pub," Brockwell said, "you might as well ask if anyone saw the blonde woman leave right after the victim on the night of his death. It was late, and most had gone home, but one of the staff claims he saw a blonde woman follow Cocker out."

  "Our mystery woman?" I said. "Or May Draper?"

  "Could be either. He didn't see her face and couldn't remember her clothes. I questioned Mrs. Draper, but she denied it was her." Brockwell rose and thanked us for lunch. "I'd best be getting back."

  "What about that cigar?" Willie asked, picking up the cigar box.

  Brockwell hesitated. "You going to join us, Glass?"

  "I rarely smoke," Matt said.

  "Nor me," Duke added. "Cyclops doesn't smoke. You two go. Your men can manage themselves for a while longer, Inspector."

  Willie strode out, expecting Brockwell to follow. After the briefest hesitation, he said his goodbyes to us and trailed after her.

  I hooked my arm through Duke's. "I'm proud of you for not thwarting Willie's flirtations."

  "I reckon they're past flirting," he said.

  We went early to The Prince of Wales to speak to the staff. The barman confirmed seeing a blonde leave after Emmett the night of his murder. We asked the other staff members about blondes they'd noticed coming and going from the pub in the last few weeks. The only two that everyone remembered were the striking mystery woman and May Draper.

  "The Draper woman's not as pretty as the other one," one of the barmaids said as she dried a tankard with a towel. "But she's here most nights. I didn't take much notice of her until I saw her kissing a man in the alley when I took an empty crate out. The same alley where the murder took place."

  Matt described Danny Draper but the maid couldn't offer a description as the man had his back to her.

  "Thank you," Matt said, slipping her some money.

  We didn't have long to wait for May herself to arrive with several other cast members, including her husband. Danny immediately sat at a table with three others, including Matt. May hovered at her husband's shoulder, her glare frosty. I got the distinct feeling they'd just had an argument, and she wanted to continue it but he did not.

  With his back to her, he was able to ignore her as he smiled and joked his way through the first round of poker. I wouldn't have guessed he'd been losing terribly, both before Emmett's death and after, but Annie Oakley claimed he had.

  "And May don't like it," she said to Willie when Willie asked why May looked so sour. "She tries to stop him from coming here, but he won't listen." She signaled to the barmaid to approach and ordered beers for the three of us.

  "Have they always argued?" I asked. "Or is it only a recent thing?"

  She frowned as she considered her answer. "Recent. I guess he finally lost too much for her to stomach."

  Or she knew Danny couldn't maintain the cheating scheme with Emmett gone, and he was losing for real, now, with no compensation from Emmett.

  "Would you say their marriage is a good one?" I asked.

  She screwed up her nose. "How would I know? I ain't much of a good judge of marriages. Mine is fine, but that's because Frank understands me. We been together so long now, we're almost the same person."

  He must be very understanding to let her go out with Willie all night. Then again, I couldn't imagine this woman asking for permission—or anyone trying to stop her. Just like Willie would never let anyone stop her from doing as she pleased. I was fortunate that I'd found Matt. He wouldn't stifle my ideas or stop me from doing something I wanted to do, either.

  Although I was yet to test him fully. Such a test might rise soon.

  I dismissed thoughts of Fabian Charbonneau and his spell casting from my mind, as I had done all day. Thinking about it only made me anxious, and I couldn't afford to be anxious. Not with the wedding approaching and the investigation to finish. I had quite enough on my plate to worry about.

  Our drinks arrived and Willie immediately drained half of hers. I kicked her under the table in a bid to get her to slow down, but she ignored me. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and declared, "I needed that."

  Annie didn't even raise an eyebrow at Willie's uncouth behavior.

  Willie leaned forward. "I heard May was seen kissing a man who weren't Danny. Just outside here in the alley, too."

  I gasped at her brazen statement when it could very well have been Danny. "Don't spread gossip," I scolded her.

  She lifted a shoulder in a shrug.

  "Where'd you hear that?" Annie asked.

  "Barmaid," Willie said.

  Annie clicked her tongue. "Typical. Everyone thinks it's fine to gossip about us because we're on show every day. Well, let me tell you, that ain't fair. Our private lives ain't up for public dissection."

  "Very true," I said.

  Willie wasn't giving up, however. "I only wanted to find out if she was interested in a little…fun," she said, winking.

  I almost fell off the stool. What was she doing? "I think you drank that beer too quickly, Willie." I moved her tankard away.

  She grabbed it and pressed it to her lips. She peered at Annie over the rim as she sipped.

  Annie picked up her tankard too. "Knowing May, she might be." She rubbed her thumb and two fingers together.

  I sat, frozen to the stool, unable to quite believe what I was witnessing. "You can't say that."

  Annie chuckled. "May's my friend. I look out for her, and I know she's having a rough time, with Danny losing all their money. She'll do whatever's necessary to save him and her marriage. She's done it before. She used to be an actress." She said it as if it explained May's behavior.

  "Does Danny know she'll do…that for money?" I asked.

  "I don't know." She looked over to where Danny discarded his hand in the middle of the table. Behind him, May winced as if she were in pain.

  Could she really have a liaison with Willie? For money? The very notion put me into a bit of spin. My shock must have been written on my face, because Annie chuckled into her beer and Willie slapped me on the shoulder.

  "Careful you don't lose that halo, India," she said.

  "It's already tarnished after what I've just heard," I whispered in her ear as I rose.

  I went to join Matt, Willie at my heels. "I had to ask," she said. "If I didn't, we'd never know if she was kissing
Danny in the alley or not."

  "We still don't know."

  "But we do know she ain't faithful if money exchanges hands. That's something."

  We pushed past Duke as he chatted to another man having a conversation about female sharpshooters. I suspected he was planning to steer the conversation to May. Cyclops was with another group of cast members and was probably also attempting to find out more about the Drapers or the victim.

  I rested my hand on Matt's shoulder. He smiled up at me. "I'm winning," he said, good naturedly.

  "So I see. He has such good luck," I said to May, standing at her husband's back.

  "He certainly does," May said cheerfully. If her smile weren’t so tight at the corners of her eyes, I would have believed she didn't care that Danny was losing. She was certainly an accomplished actress.

  They continued to play for quite some time. I joined May and we chatted, but I sensed that her attention was on the game, not me. She hardly looked Danny's way, however, as he continued to lose more than he won.

  The two other players rarely won. The more Matt won, the more agitated May became. I suspected that was Matt's tactic, but what he planned to do with an annoyed May, I had no idea.

  She wasn't the only one getting annoyed. Danny slapped his cards on the table every time he lost and muttered under his breath. After losing a particularly large sum, he kicked over a stool, earning glares from those nearby. Matt tried diffusing the tension with a joke, but Danny was beyond jokes.

  May put her hand on her husband's shoulder. "Will you buy me a drink, honey?"

  "Get it yourself," he muttered.

  Her fingers tightened. "Come and join me for some fresh air. It's getting hot in here, and smoky."

  "You go. I'm busy." He nodded at me. "Your new friend can accompany you. Whose turn is it to deal?" he asked the other players.

  "Don't be like that, honey. I need you."

  "Fresh air is a good idea," Matt said, setting the deck down. "I could do with a break myself. If you'll excuse me." He headed off in the direction of the corridor that led to the outhouse in the courtyard.

  May rubbed her husband's shoulder then moved up to his neck. It was a sensual caress and seemed to relax him. He sighed.

  Then she pinched him.