The door creaked open, and I slipped inside, Doris on my heels.
“You found Miss Westin!” Annie beamed at Doris while Copra offered the slightest of bows.
Doris was about to return the greetings when she spotted the man in the bed. By the expression on her face, I knew she was thinking the same thing I had. Holding my breath, I hoped she’d say something to betray her worst thought so I might feel better about my own blunder.
“Annie,” she whispered. “What’s going on here?”
“Oh, Miss Westin! It’s awful.”
“It’s my fault,” Copra said.
“No, no, really, it isn’t.” Annie tilted her head toward the deceased Oscar Cryer. “Copra had him in the pantry, but I insisted Copra bring him straight to me.”
“To your bed?” Doris asked.
“Well, I couldn’t really have him anywhere else, could I?” Annie scrunched her face, turning back to Copra. “I suppose we could have stuffed him in the wardrobe.”
Doris glanced to the large wooden structure. “I doubt he’d be comfortable in there.”
Annie laughed, mirthlessly.
Doris frowned, eyebrows knitted together, trying to make sense of the evening’s events.
I was feeling better by the minute. “He’s a heavy sleeper, isn’t he?” I asked, keeping my voice toneless.
“I…I was going to ask about that.” Doris kept her voice soft. She clapped steely, blue eyes on me. “What do you have to do with this?”
“Well, after Copra’s mother had him in her bed, then Copra had him in the pantry, and Annie had him in her bed, they thought I’d want a crack at him.”
Doris’s face fell, her mouth hanging open quite uncharacteristically. “But…” Her eyes narrowed to slits. “You would never…” Blinking as thoughts slammed into her head—if the bewilderment playing across her pale face was any indication—she gathered her beautiful violet skirts and made her way to the bed. Haltingly, she reached a hand to the body only to yank it back a second later. Her flaccid expression settled into disdain, and she reached out again. A moment passed before she announced, “He’s dead.”
“Well, of course he’s dead,” Annie said. “Why else would he be here?”
Doris fumbled for a moment, even glancing at me for help.
I smirked back before taking the liberty of explaining events, as much as I knew them. Doris fixed that inscrutable gaze on me the entire time I spoke. When I was through, she scowled at Annie and Copra. Both parties swallowed hard.
“Is there anything you’d like to add?” Doris asked, nothing in her hard tone to betray any emotion she might be feeling.
Annie shook her head, and Copra uttered, “Nothing, Miss Westin.”
Doris nodded. “What do you plan to do about this, Ella?”
What did I plan to do indeed? “After speaking to Oscar Cryer’s wife, Hope, an idea formed in my mind. She acted as though he were still alive.”
“Acted?” Doris interrupted. “Or was she sincere?”
“I’m not sure. I’ve been tricked before.”
Doris nodded without judgment.
I continued. “It’s my belief, though not a definite fact, the killer could be present downstairs. If Mr. Cryer was killed at home while his wife was away—right before he was to leave—and he was placed in Mrs. Copra’s bed at the Stoker mansion, it appears as though the killer was intimate with Mr. Cryer’s schedule, not to mention possessing the knowledge that Mr. Stoker’s staff would be holding their own party elsewhere in the mansion.”
“Anyone could know Stoker’s schedule,” Copra said. “He likes routine. He’s predictable.”
“Be that as it may, the most likely suspect in a case such as this is someone who knew the victim well. It wasn’t a random act and doubtful it was spur of the moment.”
“Because of the poison?” Annie asked.
“Yes.”
Doris held up a slender finger. “How have you determined it was poison?”
“Only by process of elimination. There are no marks on him. He was found in Stoker’s mansion where he had no business being—in Copra’s mother’s bed—and he had no overcoat, hat, muffler, or gloves.”
Doris stared at me. It was obvious she wanted to say something, but she only glanced at Copra who was busy wringing his hands.
I went on. “I’m going to carry on interrogating the guests downstairs until someone admits the truth or I rule them all out.”
“At Dad’s Christmas party?”
“Yes.”
“What’s the idea you had while speaking with Mrs. Cryer?” Copra asked.
“As I said, she acted as though he were still alive. I’m going to keep up that charade. If the killer is here, he or she might panic or otherwise incriminate themselves if they think the poison didn’t work.”
“But how can you pretend a man is at a party when he clearly isn’t?”
“It’s crowded downstairs. Nobody knows where anybody is. I couldn’t even find my own husband. Neither could Mrs. Cryer, though I don’t believe she endeavored to search too hard. And for those disinterested, they’ll take my word for it and assume he’s there. One or two guests who’ve imbibed a bit too much might even think they saw him getting punch.”
Annie lurched forward and made to grab Doris’s arm but stopped herself before latching onto her puffed sleeve. “Miss Westin, we’d like your help.”
“We would appreciate it,” Copra said.
Her hand flew to her bosom as she looked at me. “My help?”
“Oh, yes,” Annie continued. “Copra and I know how terrible this is to have happened in your house. We’d prefer not to bother Captain Westin.”
“Since when?” I asked.
“We discussed it at length while you were looking for Miss Westin.”
“I was never looking for Doris—”
“It’s his party,” Copra said. “You can’t ask a man to listen to a story like this at his own party.” He paused, waving his hand at the bed.
Annie nodded. “And you’re so smart, Miss Westin. We couldn’t possibly keep you out of this, and since you’re in it, we’d really appreciate your particular perspective.”
“And you know so much about people,” Copra added, piling it on thicker than mint jelly on a lamb chop. “You’re a wonderful judge of character. Your assistance would be invaluable.”
“And you’re the most perfect person in the whole world to pretend a dead man is roaming a Christmas party, eating and drinking his fill,” Annie said.
Copra nodded, still wringing his hands, resembling the little boy he must once have been.
Doris narrowed her gaze again then stood tall. “I will help you.”
“You will?” I asked, perhaps a tad too much disappointment in my voice. It certainly wasn’t jealousy. I wouldn’t allow myself to be jealous, though why these two would request her help when I’d already offered mine was beyond me.
“Of course I will, Ella. I’m not sure what service or perspective I can provide, but I am available to aid you in your investigation.”
Oh joy of joys.
“Then it’s settled,” Annie said, clapping her hands in a gesture that sounded so final.
Doris couldn’t have been taken in by such an obvious bid for flattery, so why did she agree so quickly? Though I had to admit, I couldn’t think of anyone else more suited to pretending a dead man was alive and well.
There was something about Doris; the way she carried herself, the way she didn’t speak much. If she said she saw Oscar Cryer with his elbow in the sauce, people would search him out to hand him napkins.
“There is a stipulation,” Doris suddenly announced.
Annie’s face fell, but Copra kept his composure. “Whatever it is, I’m sure we’ll agree. It’s not only us with something to lose, Miss Westin—Annie’s safe house and my job—but my innocent mother is involved in this as well.”
If he was trying to elicit Doris’s sympathy, I couldn’t tell if it
worked. I’m not sure it would have on me as I hadn’t had the chance of questioning Mrs. Copra myself. Besides, this thing was out of her hands now, out of her bed. Unless Copra was talking a bit more existentially, but I was not an expert in scrubbing people’s minds of negative experiences such as finding dead men in their beds.
Doris regarded him warily. “I don’t want Ness involved in this, and I don’t want him to know I am involved either.”
Annie and Copra nodded their consent, their eyes shining with curiosity.
“Why not?” I blurted, not constrained by social niceties. “He’s Joe’s boss and my boss. This is his field of expertise as well.”
“It’s early in our courtship, and I don’t want him thinking he can work during a Christmas party. We must set the standard for any future relations quite early on or a man can take advantage and get used to something he shouldn’t.”
“She’s absolutely right,” Annie said. “Every time my Alvin asked me out for later that night, I always declined due to other plans. He eventually realized I was quite the busy woman and he would need to schedule our courtship. Otherwise he would take me for granted, or worse, announce our plans without consulting me.”
“I assume it worked,” Doris said.
“Oh, yes. I make all the plans now.”
“Did he ever ask to escort you to these activities?” Copra asked.
“What activities?”
“The ones that kept you so busy?”
“Oh, silly.” Annie giggled. “I hadn’t a thing to do most nights. But I didn’t want Al to think he had a monopoly on my time.”
Copra looked at each of the three of us. “Do all women do this?”
“Pretty much,” Doris said as Annie and I nodded.
Copra thumbed the wrinkles forming in his forehead before saying, “But, Miss Westin, aren’t you going to be working at this same Christmas party?”
Doris waved a dismissive hand. “That’s not the same thing, dear man.”
Copra eyed her suspiciously.
“I’m not a government agent.”
I couldn’t help but laugh, and I may even have muttered that she was quite the opposite.
Doris’s voice—light a moment ago—turned severe. “What’s the plan, Ella, dear?”
“I’m going to enlist the help of my husband—and Jasper.” I held up my hand against their protests. “Their help could prove invaluable. You wouldn’t want word to get around that no one can find Mr. Cryer, and Jasper spends the rest of his own party in search.” I watched as Annie and Copra closed their mouths, albeit reluctantly.
“Every extra pair of eyes and ears will help with this. I’m trying to establish the presence of a man who no longer exists and see who—if anyone—is moved by it.”
“You’re trying,” Annie said.
“I just said that.”
“No, you’re both trying.”
I bit my lip so I wouldn’t say something unkind. I’ve been known to do that.
Doris eyed Copra. “You’re watching Annie?”
“I am. The extra staff downstairs is more than capable of handling the food at this point. I think they might even do better without my presence.”
Annie patted the back of his hand. “Copra is territorial.”
Doris nodded. “As any cook worth his salt would be.”
I held my hand out, ushering my sister-in-law to the door. “Doris, if you please.” I followed her out of the room. Walking down the staircase, the scent of pine wafted up from the garland lining the banisters.
I knew Doris wanted to speak, but she must have been gathering her thoughts because she remained silent. That was Doris. I tended to open my mouth and see what popped out, sometimes as surprised as my listeners by what I was saying. But Doris bided her time and waited until she had fully formed views before uttering them. Yes, I admit it; I was envious because it made her look smart, composed, resilient, and confident. But I digress.
We wandered around the party, and I pointed out a couple people I knew that knew Oscar Cryer. We made inquiries and finally found Jasper in one of the sitting rooms nearer the kitchen. It was lavish, loud, smoky, filled with laughter, cheering, singing, and the distinctive clink of coins as they were tossed into the middle of a round table while cards were being shuffled.
Gambling. He was sitting there gambling. And by the look on his face, I’d bet he was winning. He appeared so happy and in such good spirits, I wondered if the good spirits were in him. I walked over, Doris planting herself on his other side.
“Ella, my dear! My daughter! And Doris! My daughter! How are you on this fine day?”
“It’s evening,” I said.
He laughed so hard I clapped my hands over my ears. “I love her, don’t you all love her? Isn’t she a wonderful Westin? I’m so glad we brought her into the fold. Right, Doris?”
Doris smiled noncommittally. “Indeed. Father, how are you faring?”
“So well. And I will ask you two to leave me for a bit. My luck has changed since you poked your noses in here.”
I whispered over his head to Doris, “A second ago we were prized possessions to be shown off like priceless diamonds.”
“Not when Dad pulled a two and a five when he needs an ace.”
I glanced at his cards. “He needs four aces.”
“I could make that happen.”
“Doris!” I hissed. “Jasper, I really have to talk to you. It won’t take but a moment.”
“Fine, fine, my dear. But is it important?”
Doris nodded. “It’s important to her, Dad. I could take your hand over for you, if you like.”
“Oh no, dear. Not with cards like these. I wouldn’t want to be blamed for abusing my child.” He studied the cards and tossed all five into the pot. “I’ll take five more.”
The dealer, Peabody, said, “It’s not your turn. And you can’t take five cards.”
“He’s bluffing,” another player said.
“He’s got his daughters in on it with him. We think he’s got a bad hand when he’s probably got a full house. I fold.”
“I fold, too,” the gentleman next to him said. One by one, each man folded, and Jasper won the pot, small as it was.
Jasper laughed heartily and kissed both our hands. “I love my daughters. I told you so. And you thought I was kidding.”
Doris smirked, but I was growing impatient. “Jasper, please?”
“Yes, yes, all right, I’ll meet you in the hallway momentarily. Deal me out, boys.”
Doris and I left the cheerful room and waited in the hallway, she standing stock still, I tapping my foot—and not only because it was achy in the fancy shoe. The tinkle of glass breaking and whooping laughter of an indeterminate number of people told me someone else must’ve crashed into yet another Christmas tree. The warm scent of cinnamon, nutmeg, and spiced cider carried easily from the kitchen, causing my mouth to water in expectation.
Doris let out a breath that sounded like it sprung from an agitated mare. I’d never heard such a sound come from her lips.
“What is it?” I asked, glancing up and down the decorated hallway. Nobody was there except us.
“He’s locked it. I guarantee he’s locked it.”
“What are you talking about?”
“He tricked us out of the room. He had no intention of meeting us out here. He fibbed when he told the dealer to sit him out for the hand. That was to get us out here.”
I laughed, despite myself.
“Why are you making that ridiculous noise?”
“I’ve got to hand it to him. It’s pretty clever, and seeing as it’s us, took guts, too.”
Doris actually smiled before holding her hand out for me to lead her down the hallway and rejoin the merry party-goers.
“I suppose we should find my husband,” I said.
“I guess so. One down, one to go. Joe will keep an eye out for us.” Stopping us outside the ballroom, she locked her eyes onto mine. “Though, I don’t doubt
he’ll want to help you a little more than merely being eyes and ears.”
“I thought of that, but it wouldn’t be so bad. I like working with Joe.”
“Do you now?”
I shrugged, rumpling the red velvet fabric about my sleeves. “I do. I never thought I would, but I’m getting used to him.”
“He is your husband.”
I pondered that for a moment. “He is. I didn’t think working together would be a good fit, seeing as we live with one another and do everything else together. But when we’re working a case, it doesn’t get old. Being with him I mean.”
She nudged my elbow with hers. “I knew what you meant, dear.”
Inside the dazzling ballroom, the musicians stopped playing, and chatter swelled then ebbed as the soft sounds of a violin wended their way to us. “So, you and Ness,” I whispered. “How’s that progressing? Must be well if you’re already training him how to handle you.”
Doris heaved a breath, straightening to her full height. “I like to keep in practice.”
That said very little. I tried again. “What are you thinking? With him, I mean. Are you in it for the long haul?”
“I don’t know, Ella. One never does, does one?”
“I knew.”
“Right away?”
I took her tone to be a challenge before I realized it might have been a little too high-pitched at the end. There was an eagerness there, rarely seen in the woman. “No, probably not,” I said.
“Joe did.”
I took a step back before considering. “But Joe’s a man. It’s completely different for men.”
“That’s true. Shall we look for him?” She grasped my elbow, steering me deeper into the festive, noisy room.
“You’re purposely avoiding my question.”
“Dear me, Ella. You do push, don’t you?”
“Perhaps.”
“No, you really do. Most people are polite enough to understand I’m not going to tell you my feelings and leave it at that.”
“I’m not most people.”
Dropping my arm, she regarded me for a moment. “I noticed that. I think it’s why Joe fell in love with you and why my father likes you so much.”
“Flattery will not dissuade me from asking again.”
“It’s your prerogative, my dear sister.”
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