by Kate Parker
“With this road rally going on, no one would notice an extra motor. I don’t suppose you ladies noticed anyone suspicious.”
We all shook our heads. I kept my expression innocent.
They announced our train was coming into the station and the inspector walked off. Lady Kaldaire and I, after hugs and curtsies with the Linchester ladies, hurried through the station and out onto the platform. I was relieved. The inspector might suspect my relatives, but he hadn’t yet realized they were in the rally.
* * *
I won myself a two-day reprieve from chasing after Lord Kaldaire’s murderer while I saw to my business and filled more orders for motoring veils than I had expected. Apparently, word had traveled about the wonder I’d designed.
I set aside all of the proceeds from the veils to send Matthew to the School for the Deaf.
The trip had been a success in that regard. I only wished we’d found out more about Lord Kaldaire’s death so I could go back, unimpeded, to my business.
On the morning of the third day, I received a summons from Lady Kaldaire to call on her after church. I waited until after Sunday dinner was finished before I went over to Kaldaire House. Rawlings, the former second footman, answered the door.
“Is Roberta, Lady Kaldaire, at home?”
“The lady is a new widow and not receiving visitors.”
His stuffy tone told me Gregson and Newton’s misfortunes had been good for someone before I asked, “Are you the new butler, Rawlings?”
“I am.”
“Congratulations. Lady Kaldaire sent me a note requesting my presence after church. Would you please have someone tell her ladyship I’m here?”
He glanced quickly over his shoulder, took a deep breath, and said, “Wait here.”
He disappeared inside. Fortunately, it was a pleasant day and I didn’t mind the wait. A minute or two later, he reopened the door, a maid at his side. “Lucy will take you to her.”
I stepped inside and took a few steps following Lucy, no doubt toward the back of the house, when Lord Kaldaire appeared. “What are you doing here?” he boomed as he swelled his chest.
I used my unimpressed tone. “Lady Kaldaire asked me to come.”
The aristocratic sneer didn’t leave his voice as he said, “Can’t you get her out of here? We simply don’t have room for her and her household. The servants are confused as to whose orders to follow. It’s a disaster.”
“I’m sure she’ll be moving soon.”
“Are you? Well, I’m not. Tell her to get packing.” He turned and stormed off.
I looked at Lucy and raised my eyebrows. She grinned and led me to the morning room. As she opened the door, I heard, “Who—oh, Emily. Thank goodness. I was afraid it was Laurence or Cecily again. They simply must invade this room every half hour.”
“He did just order me to tell you to get packing.”
“He’s odious.” Lady Kaldaire glanced over and focused on the maid. “I’m sorry, Lucy. You shouldn’t have had to hear that.”
The maid stood by the door. “I imagine he’s still angry about the man who came here earlier.”
I saw the possibility immediately. The late Lord Kaldaire was struck down by a caller at an odd time. Now, the new Lord Kaldaire was visited by a caller on a Sunday morning. “Lucy. Wait. What man?”
“Come in and shut the door, girl,” Lady Kaldaire said.
She shut the door but shook her head. “I don’t know who he was, but Lord Kaldaire was very angry with him. Something about a note and not doing any more business with him. The other man was angry, too, but he kept his voice down.”
“Thank you, Lucy. Oh, Emily, I need to get out of this asylum.”
Lucy slipped back out as I said, “How are the decorators doing?”
“Just a few more days. Which means I need to know if I should hire a footman or not. Go see Inspector Russell and find out what is happening to Newton,” she said, making a shooing gesture with her fingers.
“He stole from you. Well, the house.” I still had trouble separating Lady Kaldaire from Kaldaire House.
She gave me a level stare. “No, he didn’t. Gregson was the butler and the house silver was his responsibility and kept under his guard. He’d have caught Newton in a moment. Whatever Newton is, he isn’t stupid. Well, not that kind of stupid.”
“Do you plan to rehire him?”
She placed one hand on her chest and sighed. “If I must. I hope Newton saw something that night. Something that meant Gregson needed to get him out of the house. No one but Gregson could have planted that evidence on him.”
“Unless Gregson knew who hid the silver in Newton’s room and tried to blackmail him or her.”
“Not her. Can you imagine trying to pick Gregson up and throw him out the window?”
I shuddered at the image. The man had weighed a great deal more than I did. “No.”
“I want you to visit the prison and talk to Newton. Find out what he and Gregson knew.”
“Russell’s not going to let me in there.” He didn’t trust me. My last name was Gates.
“Of course he will, Emily. He’s a man. A man who is falling for your charms. I saw the way he looked at you at the train station. He didn’t run into us by accident.”
If Lady Kaldaire thought an attraction was what was between us, I’d let her think it. Better that than discovering he thought I was involved in robbing a duchess.
“Now, I want you to go see Russell and convince him Newton has information both of you can use to find my husband’s murderer.”
Chapter Twenty-two
“I’m not trying to break Newton out of prison. I only want to talk to him.” I stood in Inspector Russell’s office the next morning, my police escort hovering in the doorway, and stared up into the inspector’s gray eyes. Eyes that didn’t look welcoming.
Russell leaned over his desk toward me. His dark gray three-piece suit was clean and pressed. His maroon tie was knotted properly. Time in Rolling Badger had done wonders for his dress. He could have passed for a bank manager or a solicitor. “There is nothing to be gained by your speaking to him. No.”
“On the contrary. I believe he has vital evidence in the death of Lord Kaldaire. That is why someone framed him for this theft and had him fired.” I kept staring into his eyes, hoping to see them soften.
“Bl—” he began, biting off the curse and stalking away from me.
“Inspector, I need to speak to Newton,” I patiently explained. Again. Matthew wasn’t this stubborn, and he was still half in his childhood.
“No, you don’t. This discussion is concluded. Good day.” He walked over and threw himself into his desk chair. It screeched in response but didn’t fail.
“Then I shall have to find another way to discover what he knows.” I kept my tone sweet as I twirled around to march out of the office, making my skirt swing. My gray gown might have been somber if not for the wide lavender waistband that was copied in my high collar and cuffs. My hat was a demure wide-brimmed lavender with gray feathers. Inspector Russell wouldn’t realize the care I’d chosen in my dress, but I hoped he felt the effects.
“He doesn’t know anything,” Russell snapped out behind my back.
I turned back and stomped to his desk, no longer interested in the effect I had on him. “That’s where you’re making your mistake. You believe what titled people tell you rather than what servants say.”
“Why would Lord Kaldaire lie to me?”
“He wants to get even with the elder Lady Kaldaire for some past slight. Lord Kaldaire might be passing lies on to you he’d been told by Gregson. His lordship hoped this would move Lady Kaldaire out of his house faster. He had a hand in this, whatever this is.” I ticked suggestions off on my fingers. “Do you want me to continue?”
“No.” He groaned softly. After he was silent for a minute, he said, “I suppose I need to go with you to the prison.”
I gave him a bright smile. “You may learn something useful, t
oo.”
He grumbled, but he rose from his desk and picked up his bowler hat. As we walked down the corridors of Scotland Yard, uniformed constables and suitcoat-wearing staff turned and looked. I knew we made a handsome couple and enjoyed the attention. Russell hurried me along as he stared straight ahead. Soon, we were in a hansom cab on our way to see Newton.
“Have you ever ridden in a motorcar, Inspector?” I asked as we clopped and plodded our way across London.
“Yes, once. We soon broke down and spent a fun afternoon in a downpour trying to repair the engine.”
“You have terrible luck, don’t you, Inspector?”
He gave me a rueful smile. “Have you? Ridden in a motorcar?”
“Yes. But only on sunny days and we never broke down. We sped along as if on a galloping horse. It was great fun.” The smile on my face as I thought about those trips must have said it all.
“I congratulate you on your good fortune.” Despite his serious nature, he finally grinned at me. “Was this in Rolling Badger?”
“Yes. The son of our hostess had an automobile and he enjoyed giving us rides.”
“Ah. Lord George Whitaker. Your suitor.”
Looking at his gloomy expression, I burst into laughter. “Lord George? Oh, dear me, no.”
“How do you like being back in London with regular people?” He studied me across the narrow confines of the cab.
“It’s nice to be home, but people are the same all over. Some are good, some are bad, and some never show us who they really are.”
“And who are you, Miss Gates?” His voice gentled to a breath of air.
I turned away, not wanting my face to give away my fears for my grandfather, and found Brixton Prison loomed over the barren landscape ahead of us. I gave a silent sigh of relief.
Among its inmates, Brixton Prison housed those unfortunates still awaiting trial. The fences, tall and unyielding, were ominous; the buildings of sooty gray brick were cold and impenetrable. I followed Russell closely as we went through gates and walked down halls, our footsteps echoing around us.
Despite the warmth outside, we were shown into a cold, dank room. I sat on the chair on my side of the heavy table. Russell leaned against the wall behind me. A minute later, Newton was led in and his handcuffs removed.
He sat down across the table from me and said, “Aren’t you that hatmaker her ladyship holds such store by?”
“Yes. That’s why I’m here. Neither of us believes you killed Mr. Gregson.”
“Ask him. He’s sure of it,” Newton sneered, looking past me at Russell.
I had to deal with men who overlooked me on a daily basis at the millinery shop. Suppliers, creditors, husbands of customers. I wasn’t about to allow an imprisoned footman to do the same. “You’re here to talk to me. Not him. So, tell me what happened, starting with the night Lord Kaldaire was murdered.”
Newton dragged his gaze back to me. “Why? Won’t make no difference.”
“It can’t hurt. And right now, you need all the friends you can get.”
“Those aristocrats aren’t our friends, no matter what her ladyship has convinced you of.”
“Maybe not, but she can be helpful when she chooses. And she thinks you have something to tell her about the night her husband was killed.”
“I didn’t do it. I wasn’t even in the house.”
“Just tell me what happened.”
“You heard me tell her ladyship.”
“I heard you tell her half-truths. I’m not your employer. You don’t need to make it sound like you followed the rules.”
He sat back and scratched his jaw. “I’m not really sure when I got back. I ran into a friend at the pub and we were talking and drinking‒”
“Drinking what?” Russell asked.
“Ale. Gin. And a lot of it. I’m not really certain when I got back, but I do know Gregson was waiting by the door for me to come in.”
“Did you exchange words?”
“He said I was late and started to give me a lecture. Then he said, never mind, you’re in no fit state. Go to bed. At least I can lock up now.”
“Did you say anything?”
“Good night, maybe. Nothing else. Wouldn’t have been smart. Gregson was that angry.”
“Did you see anyone else?”
“Rawlings, the second footman, laughed when I stumbled on a step. I just wandered off to my bed and left them to stay up if they wanted. And I didn’t wake up until the police came through and found me in my bed.”
“So did you really see what you said you saw outside on your way home?” I watched him closely.
“I think so. I remember seeing a chap in a top hat as I was trying to sneak around to the servants’ entrance without being seen.”
“Are you sure it was that night? Are you sure he was by Kaldaire House?” Russell asked in a scoffing tone.
Newton sat up straighter and glared at the inspector. “Yes. I mighta had more than my share, but that man was there hanging around the house that night. Don’t know who he was or where he’d come from, but he was there.”
“Was it Prince Maximilian?” I asked.
“Who?” Newton asked.
“Never mind.” It would be wonderful to have someone tell us when Prince Maximilian left Kaldaire House, but Newton wasn’t that person. “And you heard nothing until the police woke you up after Lord Kaldaire was attacked?”
“Dead to the world.”
“Now, tell us about this theft you were accused of.”
“I didn’t do it.” He slammed his fist against the table.
“I’ve not heard anything about this. What are you accused of stealing?” I said without inflection.
The lie seemed to work, because he settled down enough to say, “A silver pitcher and some candlesticks.”
“Were they found in your things?”
“Yes. Gregson grabbed me when I walked into the servants’ hall. He took me to Lord Kaldaire and then we went to the room I shared with Rawlings. There was a sack in the back under my bed. I’d never seen it before. I swear I hadn’t.” He banged both hands against the table, but weakly this time.
“Did Gregson say how he knew it was there?”
“He didn’t say a thing. He just ordered me to follow him. I did as I was told. And once his lordship got involved, there was nothing I could do or say.”
“Were you asked to explain?”
“Yes. I told them I couldn’t. I didn’t know how those things got there. Lord Kaldaire kept asking me questions, one right after the other. It was worse than being questioned by your lot,” he added, looking past me to where I knew Russell stood.
“When were you told you were fired?”
“Right then. Lord Kaldaire told me to pack up my things and get out.”
“When was this?” I could hear Russell shift his position behind me.
“Shortly before Gregson took a header out the window.” Newton gave me a sly grin.
“What time that morning were you fired?” I planned to keep pressing until I heard some actual times.
“It was eight-thirty or pretty close to it when Gregson told me to follow him. It only took a few minutes to get his lordship and then go up to my room. I almost thought Lord Kaldaire was waiting for us. A few minutes to fire me, a few minutes to pack with Mr. Gregson standing over me, and I was out the door as the clock struck nine.”
Times, at least, could be checked with Lord Kaldaire. “How did you learn about Gregson’s fall so quickly?”
“The bobbies that picked me up in the Rat and Cat told me about it. But I wasn’t in the house when he fell and I got witnesses.”
“So you don’t claim he jumped,” Russell said in a very quiet voice.
“No. Not him. He was always too full of himself.” Newton scowled at the table. I could hear the cogwheels in his brain moving.
“I can see on your face you’ve thought of something. A reason why someone murdered him. What is it?” I demanded.
> “I don’t know who, but I know why. Gregson was always after getting a percentage for himself.”
“You mean money?” I asked.
“He means blackmail,” Russell said, walking toward the table. “He’d done this before?”
“Yeah. He was getting a bit extra from old Lord Kaldaire for some secret or other. Something about a woman. It was probably innocent enough, but Gregson could always make things look bad. He had a couple of the maids doing favors for him, doing his laundry for free, running errands he should have run for the household, because of broken china or being out late.”
“And yourself?” Russell pressed, now leaning palms flat on the table staring down at Newton.
“He tried a time or two. I told him I’d take my chances with Lady Kaldaire.”
“You seem to think Lady Kaldaire has a good opinion of you.” Russell didn’t move a muscle or raise his voice. Somehow, it made him more ominous.
“She must. She’s here,” he said, pointing at me.
“What she wants to know is who killed Lord Kaldaire. She thinks Gregson’s death is a clue,” I told him.
“Nah. Somebody got tired of paying him off.”
“Or Gregson knew who killed Lord Kaldaire and was blackmailing the murderer.” I glanced up at Russell. “Now we just have to figure out what Gregson knew.”
“Good luck with that,” Newton said. “Gregson would never let go of a piece of information that he thought would be of use to him someday.”
I held Newton’s gaze. “But if he were going to tell someone, or even hint about knowing something, who would he tell?” Oh, please. Let there be someone who knows what Gregson knew.
Because Gregson knew who killed Lord Kaldaire. I was certain that was why he had to die.
Chapter Twenty-three
Newton looked at me across the scarred wooden prison table and said, “Not anyone in the house. Gregson didn’t think any of us were too bright.”
I agreed with his assessment. “Outside of the house?”
“The landlord at the Broken Bugle. I’ve seen the two of them talk, heads close together, many a time as if they were plotting something.”