Murder at the Mikado

by Julianna Deering

  “You’re probably right,” Drew said. “Tell me, did Miss Winston and Mrs. Landis discuss fashion as a rule?”

  “Not that I ever heard, no. To be frank, I’m not sure Fleur very much likes Miss Winston. I suppose they’re just too different, the two of them, to get along. Fleur is, well, you’ve seen her, stylish and dramatic and”—his expression turned wistful—“all woman.”

  Drew lifted one eyebrow. “And Miss Winston?”

  Landis chuckled. “Miss Winston’s a good girl, practical and dependable. She would have made someone a fine wife. Good mother to his children and all that.”

  “Would have?”

  “Not to say she wouldn’t still, of course,” Landis corrected at once. “Perhaps a nice man who’s lost his wife and who has small children who need looking after. Miss Winston would be just the one for the place, eh? But she doesn’t seem much interested in finding anyone at this point. All work and no play, you know?”

  “Why do you suppose that is?”

  “Happy just as she is, I guess. Perhaps she’s given up trying to find anyone. Either way, I’m glad to have her with us. She’s a wonder with the boy, and that’s all that matters to me. There aren’t many others I’d trust him to.”

  “And he’s definitely quite fond of her, as well,” Drew said. “She must have been a real find.”

  “She was, especially with her nursing background. There’s rarely anything we need the doctor for with her around. You know, I sometimes wonder if Fleur isn’t a bit jealous of her. About Peter, I mean. Of course, as much as she loves our boy, Fleur’s never been one to be tied down to home and hearth. She’s always been a social butterfly, and I would certainly never try to confine her.”

  “Couldn’t be done,” Drew said as he got to his feet.

  Landis stood, too. “Isn’t there anything else you wanted, Mr. Farthering?”

  Drew shook his head. “Just a word. Everything settled at home? Now that you’re all together again?”

  “Fairly well back to normal, thank you. This has all been a bit distressing, as you may well imagine.”

  “No doubt.”

  Landis exhaled and gave Drew an unsteady smile. “Just having Fleur back was a great relief. It’s a bit frightening to be at the mercy of the law.”

  “True enough.” Drew put on his hat. “But these things are sorted out in time. If not, there is the great Judge who always sees the truth and without any obscurity.”

  “I suppose none of this comes as any surprise to Him, eh?”

  “Not at all.” Drew gave him a nod. “Well, I’d best let you get back to work. You’ll want to finish up and get home to Mrs. Landis as quickly as possible.”

  Landis escorted Drew to the door. “Thank you, I do.”

  With a farewell to Miss Stokes, Drew hurried out of the office and down to the Rolls.

  “They’ll be back before long, old man,” Drew said a day later. “We really ought to get this all sorted before then.”

  Mr. Chambers merely yawned, his spine making a nearly perfect crescent-moon shape as he stretched himself on the lush parlor carpet.

  Drew scowled and got down on his hands and knees next to him. “Have you been at all paying attention to what I’ve been saying? How are we possibly going to solve this case if you don’t pay attention to all the clues?”

  The kitten blinked unrepentantly and reached over to play with Drew’s silver cuff link. With a chuckle, Drew stretched out on the floor beside him, tickling the tip of his tail to make him turn over.

  “Now pay attention, and we’ll start at the beginning once more. When Ravenswood was killed—”

  Denny cleared his throat, and Drew looked up, a guilty warmth seeping into his face.

  “Are you at home to Mrs. Landis, sir?” the butler asked, his disapproval faint but unmistakable.

  Drew shook his head, frowning, but she was already in the room, pushing past Denny.

  “Drew, please.”

  He scrambled to his feet, the heat in his face intensifying. “Really, Mrs. Landis, I would rather not—”

  “Drew.” She held up her hands, pleading. “Just a moment. Just give me a moment. It’s desperately important.” Tears stood in her impossibly black eyes.

  Drew looked at Denny. “We haven’t heard from that, uh, party we’re expecting, have we?” The last thing he needed was for Madeline and Aunt Ruth to come home to find him alone with Fleur Hargreaves.

  Denny’s expression remained suitably grave. “No, sir, though it should not be long before they arrive.”

  “All right, Denny. That will be all.”

  “Shall I have tea served, sir?”

  Drew glanced at Fleur as she stood there trembling and then back at Denny. “No. We’ll be only a moment, I’m certain.”

  “Very good, sir.” With a bow, Denny disappeared.

  Fleur moved closer to Drew, taking his sleeve in both hands. “Thank God. Please, Drew. Hear me out.”

  “I thought we had an agreement,” he said, his voice cold. “Anything you need me to know, you can ask your husband to tell me.”

  “Not this, Drew. I need your help. Someone is trying to kill me, and poor little Peter . . .” She caught a hard, choking breath and collapsed against him.

  “What about Peter?” He took hold of her arms. “Fleur, what about Peter?”

  She froze, eyes wide, and he released her. She managed a ghost of a smile. “Brent sent me chocolates—he does spoil me so—and I didn’t think anything of it. Why should I? I was just so happy to be out of that horrid prison, I thought everything was all back to normal and this was over. Anyway, I’ve been trying to reduce a bit, so I didn’t eat any of them right away. I just left them in the little sitting room I use to write my letters and such. Peter knows he’s not to go into that room. I’ve told him at least a hundred times, but he went in anyway. He went straight to that candy and ate some of it. And then . . . Oh, Drew.”

  She clung to him, weeping openly now, and a sickening fear twisted into him. He shook her harder than he meant to, forcing her to look up at him.

  “What happened to Peter?”

  “It was so horrible. He couldn’t breathe and he turned so frightfully pink. Nurse snatched him up at once, thank God, along with the chocolates, and made Brent drive them to Dr. Klarner’s.”

  “Is he all right? What happened?”

  “Drew, it was cyanide! The candy was full of it.”

  “Peter—”

  “He’s going to be all right,” she quickly added. “If Nurse hadn’t caught him eating the piece he had, and if she hadn’t been there to recognize the symptoms, I don’t know what would have happened. But, Drew, how would she know . . . and so certainly? I mean, who thinks of cyanide poisoning right off? And if she hadn’t known at once, Peter would have died.”

  “Have you told the police this?”

  She put one trembling hand over her mouth. “Yes, I spoke with them, but I couldn’t tell them everything. I couldn’t tell them . . .” She shrank against him again. “Oh, I don’t even want to say it, it’s so horrible.”

  “Say what?”

  “That . . . that it was Brent who sent me those chocolates. He always does, you know, and he admits he sent them this time. You don’t think he could have possibly . . . ?” She hid her face against Drew’s shoulder. “No, no, no . . .”

  “He could have what?” Drew asked, prying her away from him. “What are you saying?”

  She looked up at him, trembling and fragile in his hands, and he felt all sorts of a cad for wanting to shake her again.

  “What are you saying?” he demanded. “You don’t think your husband poisoned those chocolates, do you?”

  “No, he couldn’t have. He wouldn’t have! Why would he do such a thing?”

  “You tell me,” Drew said warily.

  “There is no reason,” she said, her red lips quivering. “No reason. I’m just . . . my nerves are on edge, that’s all. Yes, that’s all.”

  �
��Well, someone poisoned those chocolates,” Drew said. “If it wasn’t your husband, who was it? Who do you think would want to kill you?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. No one now.”

  “Now?”

  “Well, you know Johnnie’s wife would have. I mean, if she had ever taken the time to plan it out.”

  Drew studied her face. “Would she? Why?”

  She shrugged. “Well, Johnnie and I, obviously.”

  “I thought you said that was over years ago.”

  “It was. I swear it was, but she was always suspicious even if she does go on about not caring what he did. And she didn’t much like me still being around the theater. Helping with the production and all. I still can’t help wondering if she wasn’t the one who killed him after all, and she just needed someone to blame.”

  Drew shook his head. “She was already at home. She phoned the theater right before the body was found.”

  “She could have made that call from anywhere.” Fleur pouted. “All right, fine. Maybe she isn’t the one. Or maybe she had someone else kill her husband for her. That Conor Benton would be just the type.”

  “It couldn’t have been Benton, either. You know that.”

  “If he thinks I killed Tess, he might want to kill me, no matter who might have killed Johnnie.”

  “I suppose so. Doesn’t seem the way he’d go about it, though. How would he know about the chocolates if your husband had them sent directly from the shop? He hasn’t been anywhere near your home, has he?”

  “Not that I know of.” Fleur pouted again. “Well then, I don’t know. But someone is trying to kill me. Now that Johnnie is gone, I don’t know who it would be or why. Maybe it’s someone the police haven’t even considered. But, please, Drew, you have to find out. You have to stop whoever it is.”

  “All right,” he said, leading her toward the door. “I’m doing my best as it is.” He stopped at the threshold, his face as stern as he could make it. “For your husband’s sake and the boy’s, do you understand?”

  She nodded, a touch of hurt in her eyes, and she let him escort her out to her car.

  “I do appreciate it, Drew. Truly.” She gave him a winsome smile as she got behind the wheel. “I know you’re not exactly fond of me anymore, so it means a great deal to me that you would still be willing to help.”

  He shrugged, once more feeling rather a cad. “If you’re innocent, Mrs. Landis, then it is only right that we should find out who is behind all this. I know your husband and your son would hate to be without you.”

  She reached out of the car window to clutch his hand, but he moved away.

  “Please believe me, Drew. I am not the girl who treated you so abominably six years ago. I wish there was something I could do to make amends.”

  “All that is over. I want nothing more than to never think of it again.”

  She had the grace to look embarrassed. “I’m sorry. Of course you wouldn’t want to go over all that anymore. But I am grateful to you.”

  “Fair enough. Now, please, you ought to go. If there’s anything else you think I need to know, please be kind enough to send the message through your husband.”

  “All right. I was just so scared by this thing with the chocolates.”

  She gave him another pleading look, and Drew couldn’t help wondering, on the off chance that Landis was behind this, if he was wise to trust the man to give him whatever messages Fleur might have.

  “On second thought,” he said, “perhaps from now on, you should just ring me up direct if you have something you need to tell me.”

  “All right.” She started the car and put it into gear. “Please, find out who’s behind all of this, Drew. Please.”

  “I’ll do my best. Now you’d best go along home and look after Peter.”

  “I have an appointment I must get to, tea with some old friends, but I’ll go straight home after that.”

  “Mind you do, then.”

  She drove away, still with that troubled wrinkle in her forehead. Before he could do more than walk back up the front steps, he saw the Bentley coming up the drive, Madeline and Aunt Ruth returning from wherever they had been. They would have to come home just in time to see Fleur leaving. Smashing. Perfectly jolly.

  He smoothed his hair and straightened his tie and then went back down the steps in time for Denton to stop the car with Madeline’s door just in reach. He opened it and handed her out.

  “Hello, darling. Have you and Auntie had a busy day?”

  “Lovely,” she said, but she seemed a bit distracted. “Denton, could you please see the packages are sent up to our room?”

  Denton touched his cap. “Right away, miss.”

  He helped Aunt Ruth out of the other side of the car and then drove off.

  Drew escorted both ladies into the house. “I trust there is something left in the shops still.”

  The older woman tried to hide her smile. “We may have missed one or two things, young man, but you cannot expect to host the wedding of the year without a considerable amount of foofaraw and fluff.”

  “Wedding of the year?” he said, putting his arm around Madeline. “Did you hear that, darling? We’ve been downgraded to wedding of the year.” Madeline looked more distracted than amused. “Wedding of the century, don’t you think, Aunt Ruth?”

  Aunt Ruth only huffed. “I’ll let you two sort that out. My feet hurt.”

  She clumped up the steps with her cane, leaving Drew and Madeline alone. Madeline didn’t say anything for a minute, and then she gave Drew a very bright smile. “Who was that? In that car that was driving away when we got home?”

  “You’ll be quite surprised to know that was Landis’s wife. I know I was.”

  Her smile tightened. “I thought you weren’t going to see her, even about the case.”

  “I know, darling, and that’s what I meant to do. I didn’t know she was coming. And when Denny asked if I was home to her, I tried to tell him no. But she pushed her way in before he could even get my answer.”

  “And what did she want this time?”

  He hesitated. “Why don’t we go into the library for a bit?”

  “What?” she asked, pulling back from him. “What’s happened?”

  “She was very upset, naturally. Someone had poisoned the chocolates Landis sent her, and Peter got into them.”

  “Peter! Oh, Drew, is he all right?”

  “Evidently they got him to the doctor in time. He ought to recover quite nicely.”

  “Thank God.” She closed her eyes for a moment. “Who could have done such a thing?”

  “It’s unlikely the poison was meant for him. The chocolates were sent to Mrs. Landis, after all. Would you like to come with me to examine the scene of the crime?”

  “Do you suppose they’ll let us see Peter?”

  “We can certainly ask.” He kissed her cheek. “Wait here and I’ll bring the Rolls around.”

  Soon they were pulling up in front of the Landises’ Georgian town house in a comfortable if not ostentatious neighborhood in Winchester. A red-eyed little housemaid answered the front door.

  “Good afternoon, sir.”

  Drew removed his hat. “Good afternoon. Drew Farthering and Madeline Parker to see Miss Winston, if we may.”

  “Oh, I dunno, sir.” The girl glanced up the curving staircase. “She’s up with the boy just now, and I’m certain she don’t want to leave him.”

  Madeline’s hold on his arm tightened. “He hasn’t . . .” She looked up at him with worried eyes and then turned back to the maid. “He hasn’t taken a turn for the worse, has he?”

  “No, miss.” The maid gave her chapped nose a dab with a wadded-up handkerchief. “You mustn’t mind me, miss. It’s the dusting. Makes me sneeze something awful.”

  Madeline exhaled. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “Not your fault, miss, and thank you all the same.”

  Drew took a card from his pocket. “If you would be so kind, would you take
that up to Miss Winston and ask her if we may come up and see Master Landis for just a moment?”

  “I can’t make you no guarantees, sir. Nurse hasn’t much let anyone near him but the doctor and Mr. Landis himself.”

  “Not Mrs. Landis?”

  “Oh, yes, of course, sir. Of course Mrs. Landis, but she hasn’t been in much. Says she can’t bear to see him so very ill.”

  Drew glanced at Madeline. “I think Miss Winston will see me,” he said to the girl.

  “Just as you say, sir. If you’ll give me your things, miss, you’ll want to wait in the parlor until I’ve asked if you can come up.”

  Drew smiled at the girl. “May we have a look at the room where Peter found the chocolates? Mrs. Landis’s sitting room, I believe.”

  The girl looked puzzled. “If you like, sir. I suppose it would be all right.”

  Madeline shrugged out of her coat, as did Drew. He fished a paper-wrapped parcel out of one pocket, and then they both gave their coats and hats to the girl and followed her into a room as stylishly decorated as the foyer and what they could see of the rest of the house but decidedly more feminine.

  “Do you know where Mrs. Landis had the box with the chocolates in it?” Drew asked.

  “Here, sir.” The maid indicated a wide bookshelf at Drew’s eye level. “If you’ll both wait, please, I’ll go see Nurse.”

  “The boy must be a climber indeed,” he said when the girl was gone. “How do you suppose he managed it?”

  Madeline looked around. “Maybe a chair to get up onto the desk and then he reached the shelves from there?”

  “I suppose so. Mrs. Landis seemed awfully determined to keep those sweets to herself.”

  “Doesn’t surprise me.”

  Drew was startled by the coldness in her tone. “What do you mean?”

  Madeline only shrugged. “Women like her. Selfish things, all of them.”

  Before he could reply, the girl came back into the room and bobbed a curtsy. “Nurse says you’re both to come up at once.”