“It’s cracked now, you can have it for one dollar.”
I paid him and soon after we left with our booty.
“What luck, Harry. Do you think there’s enough left to be tested?”
“There’s only one way to find out,” I said.
“And what if it does contain the digitalis May Goodwin was poisoned with? It doesn’t tell us who gave it to her.”
“No, but it might narrow the field of suspects.”
Emmie wrapped the crossbow in her scarf. When we reached the hotel, she took it up to her room and I took a car to Dr. Loring’s. He was in with a patient, but twenty minutes later he invited me into his office. I handed him the blue bottle.
“I think this may be what May Goodwin was taking.”
“‘Take as needed,’” he read sarcastically. “Might as well say, ‘take until death.’ A woman just takes more and more until her problem’s solved, one way or another.” He poured a drop on his finger and licked it. “I think I might taste the digitalis. I can have it tested by this evening.”
“So the digitalis has a distinctive taste?”
“Oh, yes. The oil’s a good mask, but the taste is altered.”
“Altered enough that someone already taking the pennyroyal would notice if the digitalis were added?”
He thought for a moment. “I think she would. But who could say?”
“Can you send a note to the hotel with the results? And perhaps also to Constable Peabbles?”
“Yes, certainly.”
Emmie was out when I got back to the hotel, but while changing my collar in the bathroom I heard her enter her room. I was about to holler some fright, just to see her jump, but then realized it was Delia. She was going through the bureau when the knob of the outside door turned. She carefully closed the drawer and pretended to be looking on the floor for something.
Emmie entered and on seeing Delia shook her head while making another of her noises signaling disapproval.
“Oh, there you are, Miss Meegs. I seem to have misplaced my emerald tie-pin when I last visited your chamber.”
“As I recollect, you didn’t enter my chamber.”
“Not for want of trying.”
“If it’s just your tie-pin you want, I have it here.”
She opened a little chatelaine purse that dangled from her waist.
“You’ve been keeping it close to your belle chose….”
“Belle chose?”
“The aphrodisiacal tennis court…”
“Mrs. Field!”
“Oh, look at her go red.”
“You have your pin. Is that all you came for?”
“No, I also came to warn you. About that one calling herself Fiona Macleod. I see you’ve been spending a good deal of time in her company.”
“Why is that a concern of yours?”
“I’m worried for you. You’d do best to stay away from that viper. Treachery and deceit are her watchwords. Fiona Macleod’s not even her real name.”
“I know her real name.”
“Oh? What name did she give you?”
“Elsa Naggle.”
“She told you that?” Delia sounded surprised.
“Yes, is it not her name?”
“One of them.”
“I take it you’ve had an encounter with her before?” Emmie asked.
“If you want to call it an encounter. I only just got out with my life. You should be spending your time with someone not so dangerous.”
“Someone like you? Aren’t you the least bit dangerous?”
“There’s no fun without a bit of danger. But if safe’s what you want, how about the bene cove in the next room?”
“Are you referring to that Mr. Reese?” Emmie asked incredulously.
“That’s the one. A rum fellow.”
“Simple fellow would be closer to the mark. I doubt sincerely he’s ever had a cogent thought in his life.”
“Seems right clever, to me.”
“I’ve certainly seen no evidence of that. Could there be two Reeses staying here?”
“Now, what’s turned you against the cove?”
“Turned me against him? Nothing at all. He’s simply too inconsequential to waste a thought on.”
Delia emitted a slight titter, but stopped herself short of a laugh by biting her lip.
“And there seems to be a complete lack of focus,” Emmie went on. “He tells me he’s here to investigate that arson, but he spends his time doing everything but that. Completely undependable, I’d wager.”
“There’s something in what you say,” Delia agreed. “I made the mistake of depending on him last night.”
“Last night? You mean…”
“It would be indiscreet of me to reveal more,” Delia told her.
“Yes, and I know how you value discretion. I hope he’s not responsible for those bites on your face. Would you mind not fiddling with my blouse, Mrs. Field?”
“If you insist. Still, if Harry’s not for you, there are plenty of fish in the sea. The hotel’s full of eligible men.”
“Yes, and most better-looking than Mr. Reese.”
“My, you do have it in for the fellow,” Delia said. “But most important is that you stay away from that phony Macleod, that Mrs. Naggle.”
“Missus?”
“Oh, yes. Didn’t tell you about that, I imagine. Has a costermonger and three kiddies back in London.”
“She told me she lived in France,” Emmie told her.
“Did she now? Thought that would impress you.”
“Well, thank you for your friendly advice on the matter.”
“Any time, my mort. Any time,” Delia said as she departed.
I suspected Emmie’s damnation of me was mainly for my benefit, but to test the matter, I made a sudden movement into her room.
“Oh! When did you get here, Harry?”
“I was changing my collar in the bath.”
“You certainly went about it quietly,” she said. “I do hope you weren’t eavesdropping. On top of all your other spying.”
“Didn’t hear a thing. Were you in conference with someone?” Much to my relief, she made a pained noise. I interpreted this as a symptom of skepticism, born of the fact she did indeed know I was eavesdropping. “Why do you think Mrs. Field wants to dissuade you from associating with Naggie?”
“I have my guesses, but I’ll not go into them now. Did the doctor determine the contents of the blue bottle?”
“He’s sending it out to be tested. We should hear back this evening. But if it was poisoned, it was most likely poisoned from the time she started taking it. Apparently it would have altered the taste.”
“So all we need to do is find out who gave her the pennyroyal?”
“Yes, and that would be easier if you were to give back her notebook. Besides, Peabbles will be hearing about it sooner or later.”
“I’m no longer in possession of it.”
“Then who is?”
“Naggie.”
“Naggie? Why’d you give it to her?”
“She wanted to work on the puzzle of the code.”
“How’d she even know about it?”
“I shared it with her, of course. We’ve been spending quite a bit of time together, if you haven’t noticed.”
“Will you be asking her about her husband and kiddies?”
“Certainly not. Nor will you, Harry.” She gave me a brief display of her most menacing look, then became practical. “Why don’t you call down for menus? I’m starving.”
As the waiter took down our order, I asked for a bottle of my wine.
“All gone,” he told me.
“How can it be all gone? I’ve had two bottles.”
“Oh, that can’t be right….” He pulled out a small pad. “Now, let me see…. First, the management took two bottles, that’s only fair. Then Thursday night you had one bottle, your missus—or Miss Meegs, if you prefer—shared two bottles with Miss Macleod, and Mrs. Field had one bottle.”
>
“But she paid for hers. That counts as one of the two you confiscated.”
“Did she? That’s not what I have here. Then, let’s see, on Friday, you shared a bottle with the missus and Miss Macleod and, after you left, they split two more, and Mr. Groper had two with a woman he claimed to be his niece.”
“Why do you say ‘claimed to be’?” Emmie asked.
“Well, the pet names they called each other. And then when I came to clear the plates, they told me to go away.”
“Wait a minute. Who is this Groper?” I asked.
“Groper? Told me he was a friend of yours.”
“I never heard of him. How’d he even know my name?”
“He asked if there was any St. Julien in the cellar. I said, no, not unless you’re a member of Mr. Reese’s party. Turns out he was.”
“What sort of tip did he give you?”
“Well, Mr. Groper’s always a generous fellow—when his niece is with him. Now, where was I…. Oh yeah, last night…”
“Never mind,” I said. “Just give us a bottle of house claret.”
“None left. Supplies’ve been interrupted. May be more coming Wednesday.”
“Then send up a round of blue pigs. And none of that day-old-coffee-and-iodine poison.”
18
After dinner, I went off looking for Ed and found him in the lobby talking with Constable Peabbles.
“I was just leaving a note for you, Mr. Reese. The doctor says that bottle of pennyroyal you found was poisoned with digitalis. Now I need to figure out who gave it to her.”
“Had she been visiting another doctor about the pregnancy?”
“Not that I can determine, and Dr. Loring seems sure no doctor would have given her the pennyroyal.”
“Any sign of that actor, Taber?”
“I think I might have a good lead. But he’s not Jack Taber. Real name’s Jimmy McGee.”
“Jimmy McGee?” Ed asked.
“Yep. I’m heading after him later this evening.”
Ed looked like a man stung by a bee. “Sorry, Harry, I’ve got to go.” We watched as he stumbled out onto the porch, then Peabbles turned back to me.
“I’m trying to track down a notebook I heard about, Mr. Reese.” He was eyeing me suspiciously. “Kept by May Goodwin, which may have had something to do with her death. I was told Mrs. Field had it, but she says she never laid eyes on it. What she don’t know is one of the girls here saw her go into May’s room and take it from that little trunk she kept locked.”
“How’d she happen to see that?”
“It was early morning, the girl saw Mrs. Field come up to the top floor. When Mrs. Field went into May’s room, the girl watched through the keyhole. Said Mrs. Field searched the room. When she got to the trunk, she took a key on a string from her pocket and opened it. Took a little black notebook out. Then she locked the trunk and left.”
“Did the girl see her take away anything else?”
“Like a blue bottle? No, and she insists she would have seen her do it.”
“Did she remember if the blue bottle was there at all?”
“Couldn’t say for sure.”
“And what time was Mrs. Field’s visitation?”
“Six o’clock, the morning May Goodwin was found dead. An hour before the Fields reported it.”
“And later you found the key to that trunk on May’s person?”
“On a string around her neck. Mrs. Field must’ve taken it from there and put it back.”
“I suppose you could arrest Mrs. Field just on what you have.”
“I suppose I could, but not too many people would be pleased about it.”
“You mean Branscombe?”
“I mean all the people here about who make a little extra in the summer from you city boarders, and that’s just about everyone. Mrs. Field’s been treating me like a saphead. I’m hoping to have a chat with Mr. Field. See if he can’t talk some sense into her.”
“Well, I wish you luck.”
“I don’t suppose you’d be willing to go up with me? I just saw her going out, and the clerk says he’s upstairs.”
“Sure, I’ll come along. But I generally don’t have much pull with writers.”
“No, neither do I. Speaking of which, I heard you were at Nan’s this morning.”
His introduction of the topic had me flummoxed. It’s true I had an explanation that was innocent of any lustful intent. But that explanation would implicate Nan and me in the same crime Delia was guilty of: withholding evidence. Worse, it would require me to recreate the contorted logic that led us to spend the night watching the comings and goings at the shop of an all-night seamstress.
A fellow who thought on his feet a good deal better than me could have cobbled together a serviceable lie in the time allotted by normal conversational flow. The best I could come up with was, “She asked me to stop by to split some wood for her stove.” Luckily, Peabbles appeared free of a jealous spirit.
“She’s a regular Tom Sawyer. Always getting people to do her chores for her.”
We went upstairs and Field answered the door in a dressing gown.
“Good evening, gentlemen. You must pardon my informality. I feel a bit under the weather. I think I caught a chill last night.”
“That’s quite all right, Mr. Field,” Peabbles told him. “I wonder if we might have a word?”
“Yes, of course. Please sit down.”
“Well, I’m not sure how exactly to tell you this, Mr. Field. But I have some information….”
“Someone saw something?”
“Yes, a girl saw Mrs. Field….”
“Bah. Her. What’s she up to now?”
“Well, sir, the morning May Goodwin was found here… dead… you reported it to the desk. Am I right?”
“Yes, as soon as I came out of my room I saw her. I went to wake her up. When I realized I couldn’t, I rang the desk and a waiter came up. But I told you all that.”
“Yes, sir, you did. And that was about seven o’clock?”
“Yes, but the man at the desk must have verified that.”
“He did, yes, sir.” Peabbles ran a nervous finger around the inside of his collar. “The odd thing is, one of the girls who works here saw Mrs. Field go into May Goodwin’s room about an hour before then. And she had a key that Miss Goodwin wore round her neck. She took something from a trunk in May’s room. A small notebook.”
“She did that?” Field seemed more amused than shocked.
“So this girl tells me. And I’ve no reason to believe she isn’t telling the truth.”
“Oh, I don’t doubt it.”
“You don’t, sir? Has your wife confided in you about this notebook?”
“She doesn’t confide in me about anything.”
“I don’t think I need to tell you, sir, that withholding evidence from a murder investigation is a serious offense. And Mrs. Field denies ever seeing this notebook.”
“Are you going to lock her up? Nothing would please me more.”
“Now, I’m sure you don’t mean that, sir.”
“I most emphatically do mean it. Lock her up and throw away the key.”
“Well, I hope it doesn’t need to come to that. But do you think you might talk to her? Reason with her?”
“Tried it. Can’t be done. No, locking her up is the only course open. Besides, it would do her good to spend some time in jail.”
“I wouldn’t be too sure of that,” I told him. “I’d been offered that advice about my own wife and it turned out to be a lot more nuanced than you might expect.”
“Bah. The humiliation alone would set her to thinking. Lock her up, I say.”
“You see, that’s just it. Once they’re inside, they don’t feel much humiliation. And a woman who’s reasonably gregarious will make the acquaintance of a wide circle of other females, each with her own set of unsociable talents. A few days in jail and my wife came out a competent fingersmith with an intimate knowledge of spook c
ompelling and several other buncos. And Mrs. Field seems a good deal more… companionable… than my wife.”
“Well, well, what have we here?” Delia herself had entered. “My ears were burning, so I know you were talking about me.”
She went over and sat on Peabbles’ lap.
“You’ve come to Michael to complain about me, haven’t you, Constable?”
“Not to complain exactly, Mrs. Field. Just to ask him to talk to you.”
“About this notebook?” She pulled it out of a pocket and waved it before his reddening face.
Peabbles carefully extricated himself from beneath her. “This is what you took from May Goodwin’s room?”
“Certainly not!” she protested. “Someone’s been spreading rumors. I found it out on a path just now and surmised it was the one you’re looking for. But I’ll answer no more ensnaring questions.”
He took it and began scanning the pages.
“Looks like nonsense.”
Delia rose and began walking toward me, so I got up as well.
“I should be going,” I said.
“Go if you must,” the lady said. “But there will be another rehearsal this evening. At half past ten. And make sure Mr. Ketchum is there. I have a surprise for him.”
“I’m sure he’ll be glad to hear that. Well, until later.”
I found Ed on the porch, staring off at the ocean and looking morose. Something he’d gotten rather good at.
“Oh, hello, Harry.”
“What’s the matter now? Annie can’t be with Field—I just left him.”
“No, she’s given up on him.”
“Shouldn’t you be relieved?”
“I suppose. But now she just lies in bed. And if I set foot in the room, she shouts at me until I leave. If only there was a proper chemist’s here.”
“Proper chemist’s?”
“Remember I told you I needed some things from a chemist’s? And how I arranged to take charge of the timbers at the fire site?”
“For your tests? Whatever became of that?”
“It wasn’t for anything to do with the arson. I lied to you, Harry.”
“That’s all right, Ed. I’m used to it. What was it you were up to?”
“Well, Annie seemed so impressed with Field’s art, I thought I’d give her a display of mine.”
“Your art?”
Fair Play’s a Jewel (Harry Reese Mysteries Book 5) Page 15