The Killing at Kaldaire House

by Kate Parker

  I was staring at them from my chair when Lady Kaldaire tapped me on the shoulder and said, “This man wants to take you to meet the prince.”

  I looked at the ladies, trying to wipe the guilty thoughts from my face. “Me? Doesn’t he mean you, Lady Kaldaire? Lady Linchester?”

  “No. He wants to speak to you, Miss Gates. And take a motoring scarf with you,” the marchioness suggested.

  My first thought was they’d captured my grandfather doing something illegal. Swallowing, I rose, nodded to the ladies, and followed the man in the morning coat and patent leather shoes as he picked his way across the grass.

  I was left to stand waiting near the prince’s chair while he talked to some distinguished-looking men, smoked a cigar, and drank brandy. The man who brought me over finally walked up behind the Prince of Wales and spoke into his ear.

  “Excellent,” the prince said and rose to face me.

  I managed the deepest curtsy I had ever attempted and did so without falling on my face.

  When I was upright again, the prince said, “I understand you’ve invented a scarf that is handy for ladies who are riding in a motorcar.”

  “Yes, Your Highness.” I pulled a scarf out of my bag and held it up, demonstrating how it was worn by using my hand. Then I said, “Does the princess motor with you?”

  “On occasion.”

  “Then you might give this to her from me with my compliments, that she might enjoy its use while riding with you. If she has any questions about how to attach it to her hat, she has only to contact me at my London shop.” I handed him my business card with the scarf.

  “Thank you very much,” the prince said, handing my gift and card to the fellow in the morning coat. “How long have you been motoring?”

  “Not long, sir. But I could quickly see that women passengers needed protection both for their hats and their faces.”

  “Indeed. Well, thank you. I’ll pass this on to May.” The prince nodded to me and turned back to one of the men in his group.

  I made another curtsy, not quite so deep this time, and walked back to where Lady Kaldaire was sitting with some ladies.

  “What did he want?” the dowager Lady Linchester asked.

  “One of my scarves.”

  The younger Lady Linchester nodded. “I think your name has been made in fashion.”

  “I hope so. It’s a good design and well made. I’m proud of my work.” My tone must have made clear I was serious.

  “Well, it’s good fortune for you, Emily, that the prince came today. We’re leaving in the morning,” Lady Kaldaire said.

  “Oh, Roberta, no.”

  “Marjorie, you of all people should know what work it is to create a new home after I’ve lived in Kaldaire House all these years.”

  “Cecily doesn’t want to share?” the younger Linchester lady asked.

  “Deborah, you know Cecily.”

  She chuckled. “Yes, I daresay I do.”

  I definitely liked the young marchioness.

  We all rose when the prince made his way to the carriage that would take him back to the railway station. He made a few brief remarks praising the enterprising spirit of the designers and racers of the motor vehicles and thanking his host and hostess. Then he climbed in, followed by the man who had summoned me to the prince’s side and another similarly dressed servant. Their driver wasted no time in leaving.

  “Wonderful to see the Prince of Wales taking an interest in motorcars,” a voice said beside me.

  “Yes, it is,” I responded as I faced my cousin Tommy. He’d shed his duster and goggles, but still wore his motoring cap.

  “Miss Gates, is it? I hear you’ve come up with a scarf designed to protect ladies’ hats when they’re riding in a motorcar.”

  “Yes. You must be one of the racers.”

  “Thomas Longacre, at your service.”

  “Good luck, Mr. Longacre. You have a lot of competition in this field.”

  “No competition at all, miss.”

  His cheeky grin told me all I needed to know. They’d already done whatever they came here to do. I really didn’t want to know what it was.

  “Have you been into Rolling Badger?” he asked me.

  “No, I’m afraid I’ve not had the pleasure.”

  “You should see the church. It’s a beautiful medieval building with a marvelous organ. They have evensong every night at five. You should try to attend tonight.”

  What were they up to?

  Cousin Tommy gave me a brief bow, his body posture satirical, and walked off.

  “Who was that?” Lady Kaldaire asked as she joined me.

  “One of the racers. He was kind enough to tell me when evensong is held in the Rolling Badger church.”

  “Really, Emily, I didn’t know you had a religious interest.”

  “No. A musical one. I’ve heard the organ in the church here is magnificent. I want to hear it for myself. I’ll ask Lady Linchester for a ride in the carriage to service.”

  “I should go along to chaperone.”

  “I don’t think it will be necessary. I’m sure none of the drivers will be there.” It would be the young man’s grandfather who’d attend the service, and I didn’t want Lady Kaldaire to meet him. “And the vicar and congregation will be present. I’ll be perfectly safe.”

  Deborah, Lady Linchester, was happy to lend me the use of the carriage and driver for evensong, since it would be our last evening there and my last chance to hear the organ. However, her brother-in-law, Lord George, overheard us.

  “I say. Our afternoon program is pretty short. I’d be glad to take you to evensong in the motor. Give you a chance to ride in it again.”

  “That’s terribly nice of you, but won’t it interfere with your racing? I’d hate to do anything to hurt your chances for a victory.” Going to the church with Lord George Whitaker could be almost as big a disaster as going with Lady Kaldaire.

  “Oh, no. Won’t hurt a thing. Be ready for church at twenty to five and I’ll drive you into Rolling Badger. I like that old pile of stones. It’s the vicar’s sermons I can’t stand.”

  “George.” His mother looked scandalized.

  Everyone was staring at me. I couldn’t come up with a solitary excuse. “That’s very kind of you. If you’re certain I’m not interfering with the race—”

  “That’s settled then. Twenty to five, and wear your scarf.” Lord George strolled back to the grounds where drivers were readying their motorcars for the afternoon excursion.

  We returned to Linchester House a short time later. At twenty to five, I went into the front hall where the butler told me Lord George was waiting out front. I spotted him sitting in the idling vehicle. When he saw me, he waved and beeped the horn. The most embarrassing sound split the air and birds scattered overhead.

  I climbed in unaided and gave Lord Whitaker a smile. “Thank you for taking me,” I shouted over the engine noise.

  “My pleasure. It’s not often I get a chance to take the motor to church. Mummy doesn’t approve.”

  I sat on the front passenger seat, watching trees and fence posts speed past. I gripped the seat as we banged and jolted over ruts in the dirt.

  “With Mummy not here, we can go as fast as the old motor will take us.”

  I tried to give him a smile while gritting my teeth. Lord George only believed in one gear. The fastest one.

  I was still trying to catch my breath and calm my shaken nerves when I spotted Grandpapa studying a stained-glass window inside the church. Lord George wanted to sit in the front row, but I shook my head and shifted the veil on my hat. “I won’t be able to hear all the tones of the organ if we sit too close to the front. At least halfway back would be better—here, this should be good.”

  I chose a pew more than halfway from the altar and George obediently sat next to me on the center aisle. Grandpapa walked up shortly after I did and sat at the other end of the pew on a side aisle. He leaned toward me. “Could you help me find the firs
t prayers in the book? My eyesight isn’t what it was,” he said.

  I slid over and opened his prayer book. “There’s nothing wrong with your eyesight,” I muttered to him.

  “Point it out to me. Now, what are you doing here?”

  I held the book out to him and pointed. “Selling veils to cover ladies’ hats and faces while riding in a horseless carriage, and hiding from Lord Kaldaire’s killer.”

  “What?” came out as a strangled whisper.

  “There have been two murders at Kaldaire House, and three attacks on the shop. It seemed to be the time to go into hiding. What are you doing here?”

  The organ began the processional. The sound filled the space, bouncing off the stone walls and stained glass.

  We stood up, and looking at his prayer book, Grandpapa pointed at a page. “Your uncle Thomas has taken a shine to motorcars. Thinks they’ll improve our business. Always forward thinking, your uncle Thomas.” The organ music and the choir covered the sound of his words for anyone nearby.

  I turned a couple of pages and pointed again. “They’re expensive and unreliable. You saw that this afternoon.”

  “You saw what everyone was supposed to see. There was nothing wrong with the vehicle. And it’s borrowed.”

  That meant stolen.

  “When do you go back to London?” he continued.

  “Tomorrow morning.”

  “That’s good, pet. Try to stay out of trouble. And away from killers.”

  I forgot to act as I stared at him. “Grandpapa, why are you here? What was on the other side of that wall where you broke down?”

  “The Willows, of course.”

  Chapter Twenty-one

  I saw it all in a flash. Uncle Thomas and Tommy went in the back of The Willows while everyone was focused on the front and the arrival of the Prince of Wales. No one wondered what they were doing. They all assumed the Longacre vehicle had broken down while engaging in a motor race.

  Meanwhile, The Willows had been robbed.

  I couldn’t help it. I worried about them. I began my act again with another flip of the pages. “Are you all safe?”

  “Nothing to worry about, pet. Everything is fine.”

  I wasn’t sure if I believed him or not. “When do you go back to town?”

  “The last day of races is tomorrow. The day after, there’ll be no trace of the Longacres.”

  “Be careful you don’t leave anything behind. Country people aren’t fools, you know.”

  “Neither are we, pet.”

  The prayers began then and I moved back to stand next to Lord George as we both recited the responses. I thought the cool, towering stones might collapse with both Grandpapa and me in church, but the church, or God, was tougher than I thought.

  Vespers was a short service, but when I looked over at the end, Grandpapa had disappeared.

  “Who was he?” Lord George asked.

  “Some man who’s blind as a bat. Poor old thing.”

  “You’re a kind woman, Miss Gates.”

  We walked out to the motorcar parked on the verge of the road. It was a fine evening, and people were walking by or riding past on horseback, carriage, or automobile. Two young men, probably one of the teams in the race, stopped next to Lord George’s motor. After brief introductions, one of them said, “We thought you’d be home with all the excitement.”

  “What excitement?” Lord George said as I thought, Oh, no.

  “The duke’s steward has been phoning around to find out if anyone else’s house has been burgled. It seems The Willows was robbed this afternoon. Some of the duchess’s jewelry has been taken along with that of one of her guests. Miss Vanlanden.”

  Lord George couldn’t get his jaws and his voice to work in harmony for a moment. “Wow—oh, my—but what—isn’t she—?”

  “Yes. That American heiress. First the prince. Now the burglary. This is the most exciting race ever.” The driver of the other car sounded thrilled with these events.

  I was horrified. How close were they to catching my father’s relatives?

  We spent the entire ride back to the Linchester estate with George shouting about gypsies and Scotland Yard and how the robbers could be in Wales by now. I clung to the doorframe and the seat and shouted one-word replies as necessary.

  I was in time to discover from the butler that the ladies were talking in the music room rather than dressing for dinner. I walked in as I unpinned my hat, but my hands stilled when I saw Inspector Russell standing in the center of the room facing Lady Kaldaire.

  Blast. He’d caught my father’s relatives. The room grew cold and dark and blurry as I realized my business would be ruined and my dreams of sending Matthew to school were over.

  “It’s absurd,” Lady Kaldaire said, turning to face me. “He says Newton pushed Gregson out the window.”

  For a moment, I was so relieved I couldn’t form coherent speech. Too much time spent with Lord George, I decided. I took a breath to slow my hammering heart and said, “Are you certain, Inspector? What reason could he possibly have?”

  “Gregson had caught Newton stealing the house silver. Gregson turned him in so he was fired and thrown out without references. The current Lord Kaldaire has confirmed this.”

  “When did this happen?” Lady Kaldaire demanded in a tone worthy of our king.

  “The morning of Gregson’s death.”

  “Nonsense, Inspector. I was there. Nobody informed me.”

  “They didn’t want to bother your ladyship.”

  “That would be a first.” Lady Kaldaire looked down her nose at the inspector. “Lord Kaldaire only fired Newton to make me move out of Kaldaire House faster. I’d already hired Newton to be my butler. He didn’t need references, nor did he need his position in Kaldaire House. This is all nonsense.”

  “Would your ladyship hire a thief?”

  “Of course not.”

  “The stolen items were found among Newton’s possessions. So apparently, he would have lost his new job, too.” Russell gave the ladies a small bow. “Just wanted to keep you informed, your ladyship.”

  “You don’t think he killed Lord Kaldaire, do you?” I asked as he passed me.

  “No. We’re still working on that.”

  I looked him over carefully. His collar and cuffs were pristine. His suit had been pressed, his bowler hat brushed, his shoes shined. His style was middle-class, but he was clean and neat. He knew how to appear presentable. In that instant, I knew he’d studied these people as closely as I had.

  But that didn’t answer my question. “Why did you come down here? You could have told Lady Kaldaire about the arrest of a servant when we returned to town.”

  He stopped then and lowered his voice. “I came to Rolling Badger on another matter. But I also have to ask myself, where is your family, Miss Gates?” With that, the inspector strode out of the room. I turned to find all eyes following him. His physique did have that effect on women.

  On the other hand, it was his parting words that made my heart pound.

  “I must get back to London in the morning. Something must be done,” Lady Kaldaire said.

  “What time is the first train?” I asked. I couldn’t wait to get out of Rolling Badger, now that I knew my father’s relatives had struck and Inspector Russell was here.

  I’d successfully advertised my hat shop and added a new product to help pay for Matthew’s schooling. Now I needed to put as much distance as possible between my family, Inspector Russell, and me.

  * * *

  Lady Kaldaire and I waved as the motors left for their last day of racing before we took the Linchester carriage and baggage wagon into Rolling Badger to the train station. Unimpeded by Lord George, Mary took care of having our baggage loaded while Lady Kaldaire and I said our good-byes and thank-yous to the Linchester ladies.

  We were in front of the station when Inspector Russell walked by. “Lady Kaldaire, ladies,” he said, doffing his bowler. “Heading back to London?”

 
“Since you’ve arrested the wrong man for Gregson’s death, yes, it is necessary for me to return to London at once.” Lady Kaldaire gave him the aristocratic stare.

  Marjorie, Lady Linchester, moved next to her and gave him the exact same look.

  You couldn’t deny the solidarity among the aristocracy.

  Apparently, Inspector Russell recognized it, too. “Don’t let me delay your ladyship.”

  “Aren’t you traveling back to London?” I asked.

  He stared into my eyes. I couldn’t miss his suspicious look. “No, I’m still hunting the criminals who burgled The Willows yesterday. And I’m working on another matter.”

  “Another burglary, Inspector?” I hoped so. That would keep his attention off my relatives. I doubted they’d been here before.

  “Yes. Nothing like the incident at The Willows, though. This was a local, a servant, who stole money from his master.” He was eyeing me suspiciously. Or maybe I was just imagining it.

  “That could have been what happened at The Willows. One of the servants saw the chance and grabbed some jewels while everyone’s attention was elsewhere.” I forced my voice to sound indifferent as if I was spouting off ideas.

  “I’d hoped to escape the criminal elements by spending time in the country,” the dowager said, “and then they plundered a well-ordered house like The Willows.”

  “It’s these new motorcars. Criminals can go anywhere,” the inspector told her, not taking his eyes off me.

  “That must make your job more difficult,” Deborah, Lady Linchester, said.

  “Not if I know who to keep an eye on.”

  He suspected my relatives because I was here. Blast.

  I stared back at him. “Lady Kaldaire and I came out to Rolling Badger because you suggested we’d be safer here than in London. Instead of worrying about her husband’s killer, we should have been worried about burglars.”

  “You weren’t robbed, were you?”

  “No. The only people I know who had anything stolen were at The Willows,” Lady Kaldaire said.

  “It was as if they were the targets of a band of thieves,” the dowager marchioness said. “Of course, it is the grandest house for miles around. I suppose it’s a miracle it hasn’t happened before.”