“So you don’t agree with her approach to cutting staff when clearly the business is in difficulties?” asked Pearce.
Owen shifted and sighed. He opened his hands up in front of him.
“That’s not quite exactly what is going on. The business is struggling, certainly. Sales of confectioneries or sweets were depressed during the war and we’re just now starting to see sales slowly improve. I’ve looked at the numbers carefully, Inspector, I’m an accountant, and it is not the lack of sales that is hurting us, it’s missing funds. Someone is skimming from the top, and as soon as I find out whom, they’ll be on the chopping block.”
“So, do you feel that at this time no staffing cuts are warranted?” asked Frances.
“No, Frances, I don’t believe that,” said Owen. “But getting rid of these nine, I think it’s nine, women is harsher than necessary. I think letting two of them go would be enough to staunch the flow of money out. There has been some mismanagement in the past...”
“By Ambrose, if you must know,” said Constance.
“Constance, please, this is a family matter,” said Owen.
“No, sir,” said Inspector Pearce, “this is not a family matter at all. It is a murder investigation and we take these sorts of things very seriously.”
“That’s not what I meant Inspector. The running of Bloomfield Confectioners is a family matter. I was not talking about the murder. The two, I am quite sure, are separate. In any event, getting back to the layoffs. I found it heavy handed and in large part unnecessary. These were very nice ladies we had working for us and many of them had been with us since before the war. They’ll be devastated.”
“And now that Maude is dead,” said Frances, “will these ladies keep their jobs?”
Owen looked at her and arched his eyebrow.
“Yes, I imagine that reason will prevail. Though, unless we get a handle on where the money is leaking, I might still need to let two of them go.”
“Do you believe that Maude was mismanaging the business?” asked Pearce.
Constance nodded slightly. Frances watched her intensely.
“Well, yes, but more than that, she was keeping things from Ambrose and not allowing me to have much say in the direction the company was going. Ambrose was putting more and more of the day to day operations into her care and that was, quite frankly, careless of him.”
“Now that Maude is out of the way, you’ll be able to get the business back on track then,” said Pearce.
Own raised his hands palms towards the ceiling before putting them back down.
“Good grief Inspector, you can’t honestly believe that would be my reason to kill her,” said Owen.
“It’s as good a reason as any,” said Pearce. “I’ve seen many killed for less.”
Owen didn’t say anything. Lady Marmalade took a sip of her tea.
“Please don’t take it personally,” Frances said to Owen, “but you can see how the Inspector finds that to be a good motive. You might possibly have lost your business if Maude had remained firmly entrenched running the day to day operations.”
Owen nodded.
“If that will be all then, I’d like to go and see how my brother is doing?” Owen said.
Frances smiled at him and Inspector Pearce nodded. Owen got up and left them.
“Well, onto the next suspect, then,” said Pearce to Lady Marmalade.
“I’ll be right with you,” said Frances, “I’m just going to freshen my tea.”
Inspector Pearce got up and walked over to a bank of windows where a tanned woman of middle age stood looking out towards the ocean, smoking a cigarette.
“Maybe I shouldn’t,” said Constance, looking down.
“Go on, dear,” encouraged Frances.
“Well,” she said looking back up at France, her face now animated as she leaned in. “It’s rumored that Ambrose was having affairs with several women, and I know on good information that he was most certainly close to Agnes Bennett.”
“And who is she?” asked Frances.
Constance pointed in the direction the Inspector had gone.
“The Inspector is speaking with her now,” said Constance. “She was a very old and dear friend of Maude’s, so I’ve been told.”
“Thank you, dear,” said Frances, patting Constance on the knee.
Frances got up and filled her teacup with fresh tea from one of the teapots. Then she walked over to join Inspector Pearce and Agnes Bennett.
“It’s all so gloomy,” Lady Marmalade overheard Agnes say to the Inspector.
Agnes Bennett looked over at Lady Marmalade as she joined them. Smoke was trailing from her white cigarette stuck in a long black cigarette filter. Agnes wore a large brimmed white hat indoors, which was very out of place. Frances introduced herself.
“Nice to meet you, Frances,” said Agnes. “I was just telling the Inspector how gloomy everything has turned here, on this dreadful news. Even such a nice sunny day outside can’t burn off the terrible feeling.”
“Well,” said Frances, “that’s what a murder will do for you, won’t it?”
Agnes looked out over the ocean again.
“I’ve heard you were quite a dear friend of Maude’s,” said Frances.
“Yes, that’s quite true. We went to school together in Manchester. Withington Girl’s School. Toward the light we went, Ad Lucem, and all that,” said Agnes.
“You two were close friends since childhood, then?” asked Inspector Pearce.
“Yes, that’s right. Ever since Year 1, when we were in class together. Inseparable really,” said Agnes.
“This must be very difficult for you, then,” said Frances placing her hand on Agnes left forearm.
Agnes took a puff on her cigarette and then tipped the ash out into a small ashtray she was holding in her left hand. She looked down at it.
“Yes, quite difficult. Hard to lose a friend after all these years. Though we had only been in touch intermittently ever since I moved to Australia many years ago.”
“So you’ve only been back very recently, then?” asked Fran.
“A few days this time, though I do get back several times a year and have done so for a few years now.”
“I see,” said Inspector Pearce. “What brings you back so often?”
Agnes looked up and smiled. She was looking past Devlin Pearce and towards Ambrose, who was off in a corner of the room with Harry.
“Family matters. My mother is elderly and sick and I come back to check up on her regularly. You can’t leave her care solely to the government, now can you?” said Agnes.
“But that is not the only reason you come back so often, is it?” asked Frances.
Agnes looked at Lady Marmalade with a cold stare. She inhaled on her cigarette and looked out the window again, contemplatively. The smoke exhaled from her nose.
“I don’t know what you could mean. I come back to check up on my mother’s care,” said Agnes as she took a quick and furtive sidelong glance towards Ambrose.
“I mean,” said Frances, as Inspector Pearce looked at her curiously, “that you come back perhaps mostly, to meet with Ambrose Bloomfield.”
Agnes stared out at the ocean. Were there storm clouds brewing on the horizon? She couldn’t be certain.
“That’s none of your business,” she said, turning back to Frances, her face as cold as stone.
“Madam,” said Pearce, “it is our concern when the wife of your lover has just this day been found dead.”
“Well, I didn’t kill her,” said Agnes, “besides, you have no idea what it’s like to have the love of your life stolen right from underneath you.”
“What do you mean?” asked Pearce.
“I mean,” said Agnes, “that Ambrose and I were going steady when my best friend, Maude, stole him from me and married him. It’s only right that he is returned to me now.”
“That doesn’t look good for you,” said Inspector Pearce. “You certainly will benefit now that she is de
ad.”
Agnes sighed too heavily.
“I didn’t kill her. And anyway, Ambrose and I have a very good arrangement. I come back often to be with him, and he sends me money to live in Australia. That might change now that Maude is gone, but we weren’t planning on it. And for goodness’ sakes, she might have stolen him from me, but she was still my best friend.”
“So, you’re saying that the scarf used to kill Maude won’t be yours?” asked Pearce.
“Good heaven’s no!” Agnes said. “Inspector, I’ll let you in on a little secret.”
She leaned in towards Pearce a little more. Lady Marmalade took another sip of her tea.
“Ambrose had a roving eye. I mean, come on, a married man who steps out with one woman might find it as easy to step out with two.”
“And you have proof of these allegations?” said Pearce.
“As much proof as you have that I killed her,” said Agnes.
“Don’t make it worse for yourself,” said Pearce. “Do you or don’t you have any proof that Ambrose was being more indiscreet.”
“No, I don’t, not absolute proof, but before she died Maude told me that part of the reason for getting rid of so many of their business employees is that she couldn’t trust them with her husband. In particular, she mentioned Hester Ryse, or something,” said Agnes.
“Could that have been Hester Rees?” asked Frances.
Agnes nodded.
“Might have been,” she said.
“All you have then, is hearsay from a dead woman,” said Pearce.
Agnes looked at him and pinched her lips and raised her eyebrows.
“You’re the police, you figure out who did it,” said Agnes.
“Did you see her today in her study?” asked Pearce.
“Yes, I did,” said Agnes, “that’s when she told me about this Hester woman. Poor thing, she didn’t even suspect Ambrose and me.”
“I wouldn’t be too sure of that,” said Frances.
Agnes put out her cigarette in her ashtray.
“If you’ll excuse me,” she said, “I need a stiff drink.”
Inspector Pearce nodded.
“Don’t go anywhere for the next few days Ms. Bennett, we might need to talk to you further.”
She turned her head back towards him as she left.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
Lady Marmalade put her teacup and saucer down on a side table close by.
“What do you think?” asked Pearce.
“Well, she certainly isn’t your biggest fan,” said Fran.
Pearce smiled.
“No, she isn’t.”
“I’d like to find out whose scarf that is. That could shed some light on who our murderer is,” said Fran.
“Yes indeed,” said Pearce. “Though she was adamant it wasn’t hers.”
“And would that be the first time a suspect lies to the police?” asked Fran with a mischievous grin.
Pearce chuckled.
“Perhaps,” he said, winking at her. “Seriously though, what about that cigarette she was smoking, perhaps the same as the one we found in the study?”
Frances shook her head.
“No, I thought so, too, but then I took a closer look at it,” said Fran. “Agnes was smoking Viscount. The cigarette we saw in the ashtray in the study was a Laurier. Agnes was also wearing lipstick, and the Laurier in the study didn’t have any lipstick on it.”
Devlin Pearce made some more notes in his notebook. He looked back up at Fran.
“Let’s see who else has some insight to shed on this murder,” he said.
He walked over to a young woman sitting by herself on a rosewood caned settee with upholstered cushions. And ashtray was standing next to the settee and the young woman, dressed in red, was smoking on a cigarette. She smiled as the Inspector and Lady Marmalade approached her.
“Good day,” said Inspector Pearce, “I’m Chief Inspector Pearce of Scotland Yard and this is Lady Frances Marmalade.”
He sat down next to her.
“Hello,” she said, blowing smoke up towards the ceiling. “I’m Rufina Pritchard.”
She had an Australian accent, though her skin was very pale.
Lady Marmalade took a seat upon a single upholstered wooden backed chair with slim armrests. She placed her teacup on the table in front of the settee, then she folded her hands in her lap and rearranged her flower brooch.
“You are Maude Bloomfield’s step-daughter?” asked Pearce.
“Yes,” said Rufina nodding.
“So, that would make you Ambrose’s daughter, then?” Pearce asked again.
Rufina shook her head.
“No, most people assume that, but that’s not the case. My father is long dead now, but he wasn’t Ambrose,” Rufina said.
“Can you explain that?” asked Pearce, “I find it quite confusing.”
“Well, before Maude married Ambrose she had a very short marriage with my father, Clarence Moorfield.”
“And yet you are a Pritchard,” said Frances.
Rufina nodded, blowing smoke out her nose.
“Yes, as soon as I could, after I left home I changed my name to my mother’s name. My father wasn’t a very nice man,” Rufina said.
“I see,” said Frances, smiling gently.
“And you’re Australian,” said Pearce.
Rufina shook her head and tapped ash off her cigarette into the ashtray.
“No, when I was small, my father moved us to Australia, after he and Maude were divorced.”
Pearce nodded, making notes in his notebook.
“So what brings you to Hightown then?” asked Pearce.
“I’ve kept in touch with Maude over the years, and with the war taking such a toll on Australian business, work wasn’t easy to come by. I had asked Maude about the opportunity to work at Bloomfield Confectioners.”
“And so she said yes?” asked Pearce.
“Yes, she did.”
“Really,” he said somewhat incredulously, looking at her with raised eyebrows. “She was going to let go several ladies at the company and yet she was going to hire you?”
“Well, yes she was,” said Rufina, “at least earlier on. Though, truth be told, the last letter she sent mentioned that she regretted she’d have to change her mind on it. She didn’t say why, so I came over to ask her about it.”
“What did she say?” asked Pearce.
“She said what you just told me. That she had to let some employees go because the business was in bad shape. Though honestly, it’s common knowledge that the real reason she was doing it, was to try and stop her husband from stepping out on her,” said Rufina. “Silly woman.”
“Why do you think that was silly?” asked Lady Marmalade.
Rufina took another puff on her cigarette and exhaled before looking at Frances and replying.
“Because, right under her very nose is that detestable woman Agnes, cozying up with Ambrose. The ladies at work were the least of Maude’s problems. I mean, just look at her now,” said Rufina looking towards Agnes.
Both Pearce and Frances looked over to where Agnes was. She was with Harry and Ambrose. Hanging onto his arm and flirting and giggling easily.
“Why do you think she’s detestable?” asked Pearce.
“Really, Inspector, you need me to answer that?”
Rufina looked at him with her eyebrows raised. She had her right arm vertical, the elbow resting on her left hand and her cigarette pointing up at the ceiling.
“Yes, I’d like you to answer that,” he said.
Rufina gave a big sigh.
“She’s a home wrecker. It’s well known that she’s down on her luck and needs money. Ambrose sends her plenty, that’s probably why the company is in trouble, but she spends it quicker than she gets it. If you asked me, I’d say she killed poor Maude.”
“Carry on,” said Inspector Pearce.
“Well, she needs the money; she hates the heat of Australia. I overheard her t
alking to Ambrose about that. She wants to come back here and be closer to her family and have more direct access to the money. She probably killed Maude to get her out of the way so she could put pressure on Ambrose so he’d marry her.”
“I see,” said Pearce.
“Tell me, dear,” said Frances to Rufina, “when did you speak with her about the job?”
“Around noon I think it was, they graciously let me stay with them while I’m here.”
“You spoke with her in the study?” asked Frances.
“Yes,” said Rufina.
Inspector Pearce was making notes. He looked up at Rufina.
“And what exactly did she say?” he asked.
“I don’t know exactly what she said,” replied Rufina, “but she said the business wasn’t doing well and she had to lay off these young girls. We all knew that was nonsense, but I played along. She was really apologetic and said she’d pay for my trip back and give me some extra money for expenses.”
“Your trip back to Australia?” asked Pearce.
“Yes, where else would I be going?”
Rufina put out her cigarette in the ashtray and folded her hands in front of her.
“Do you wear scarves, Miss Pritchard?” asked Pearce.
Rufina had nothing on her head except for her curly brown hair. She looked at him with a quizzical look.
“What an odd question, why do you ask?” Rufina asked.
“Please, Miss, let me do the asking and you do the answering,” said Pearce.
“In that case, no, I do not wear scarves, Inspector,” she said in a huff.
“It must be asked, dear,” said Frances, “it appears that Nana Bloomfield was strangled with one.”
Rufina put her hand over her mouth.
“Oh, God,” she said, “that’s horrible.”
“Ghastly,” agreed Lady Marmalade.
“You’re not leaving for Australia anytime soon, are you?” asked Pearce.
Rufina shook her head.
“No, the ship doesn’t sail for another fortnight,” she said.
“Good,” said Inspector Pearce, “stay close by, then.”
He smiled at her and stood up. Frances smiled at her too and stood up. They walked over to an empty part of the room.
“You had a better look at her cigarette,” said Pearce, “was it a Laurier?”
Four Red Diamonds (A Lady Marmalade Mystery Short Story Collection Book 1) Page 5