Four Red Diamonds (A Lady Marmalade Mystery Short Story Collection Book 1)

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Four Red Diamonds (A Lady Marmalade Mystery Short Story Collection Book 1) Page 13

by Jason Blacker


  “Good evening, Ms. Howard. May I take your coat?”

  Jane got out of her coat and handed it over to Alfred. Lady Marmalade came out into the entranceway to greet her old friend.

  “Hello, Jane dear, I’m so glad you could make it,” said Frances.

  They embraced and kissed on both cheeks.

  “Please forgive me for my tardiness, Fran. I had an awful time getting here. I was only a few miles away when I got a flat you see, and if it wasn’t for the kindness of a young man who changed it for me, I despair I might not have gotten here at all.”

  “Nonsense, dear,” said Frances, “I won’t hear of it. You’re perfectly timed. I think Ginny’s just getting the lamb out of the oven now.”

  Lady Marmalade took Jane by the elbow and brought her into the living room. Alfred was right behind them and offered Jane a drink. She chose the same as Lady Marmalade.

  “Marvelous choice,” said Frances.

  “I believe you’ve met everyone here,” said Frances, introducing Jane Howard around.

  “Yes, though it’s been quite a while I should think.”

  Frances nodded.

  “This is my dear friend, Jane Howard. Jane, this is Sir Anthony Gibbons, one of the finest surgeons this country has produced.”

  Anthony took Jane’s hand and kissed it on the back.

  “Enchanté,” he said, “and don’t listen to Fran, she exaggerates my skill.”

  Jane chuckled.

  “How do you do,” she said.

  “And this is Mr. Ellis Hutchinson and his wife, Lilly. Ellis actually owns a very productive import spice business,” said Frances. “In fact, the lamb will be served tonight using sage and rosemary from Ellis’ business.”

  “How nice,” said Jane.

  “Pleasure to meet you,” said Ellis, shaking Jane’s hand.

  “How do you do,” said Lilly, also shaking Jane’s hand.

  “Very well, thank you,” said Jane.

  “And Jane is a very dear friend whom I’ve known since St. Mary’s. We must’ve been thirteen, I think, when we met. Jane’s late husband, Rufus, God rest his soul, operated one of the largest and oldest textile mills in the UK,” said Lady Marmalade.

  Alfred came up to Frances and stood just off to the side until she noticed him.

  “Yes, Alfred,” she said.

  “Dinner is ready, M’lady, whenever you are,” he said.

  “Super,” said Frances, “I think we are all very ready.”

  She looked around at her friends and found nodding heads and murmurs of agreement.

  “Very good,” said Alfred, “I’ll let Ms. Johnson know.”

  “Thank you, Alfred,” said Lady Marmalade.

  Alfred bowed and showed himself out of the living room and off towards the kitchen. Lady Marmalade corralled her friends and ushered them towards the adjoining dining room where they each sat down. Sir Anthony was seated at the head of the table and Lady Marmalade was seated opposite him. Jane Howard was seated to Frances’ right as the guest of honor and to Frances’ left were seated Ellis and Lilly.

  Ginny brought in the lamb roast and placed it on a serving sideboard for Alfred to cut. She went back into the kitchen and then brought out the roast potatoes in a separate pan and lastly she went back to the kitchen and brought out the French beans.

  Alfred went around the table to offer up the roast he had cut into quarter inch slices. First, he offered Jane and then Lilly. Then he went to Sir Anthony and lastly he came back and offered roast to Lady Marmalade. He whispered in her ear.

  “I saved the best bits for you, M’lady,” he said.

  Frances chuckled and took a slice of lamb.

  “He told me that he saved the best morsel for me, but I think he jests,” she said to her guests.

  “I think not,” said Anthony with humor.

  “Seems to me,” said Jane, “that the whole thing is just perfect. Can’t wait to sample it.”

  In the same order, Alfred offered the potatoes and then the beans. On the table was an assortment of sauces, a mint sauce and two chutneys, mild and hot. Salt and pepper shakers were there, too.

  “Please don’t wait on ceremony,” said Frances, encouraging everyone to dig in.

  As they started, Alfred came by with a Cabernet Sauvignon. Everyone took a glassful, even though most still had a few sips of their drinks from the living room.

  “So scrumptious,” said Jane.

  “Agreed,” said Ellis.

  “Just perfect, really well done,” said Lilly.

  Lady Marmalade smiled, looking around at her guests. It was warmer in the dining room. Perhaps the fire was bigger or perhaps the food was stoking the internal fires of the guests.

  “What about you, Sir Tony?” asked Lady Marmalade. “You’re awfully quiet.”

  She was teasing, of course. Sir Anthony Gibbons had a weakness for fine food and dining. He put his hand to his mouth and finished chewing.

  “I can’t pause for a breath,” he said, “forgive me. It’s absolutely marvelous. You’ve outdone yourself yet again, Fran. To your ever so gracious hospitality and kind warmth.”

  He raised his glass and they all toasted to Lady Marmalade.

  “Tell me,” said Ellis, looking at Anthony, “if I recall, the last time we were all together you regaled us with a rather delightful tale. Do you have one for tonight?”

  “Oh yes, Tony, surely you have not come empty-handed to my table,” said Frances. “Your price for this meal is a jolly good tale. Sorry, I didn’t warn you beforehand.”

  Anthony dabbed at the corners of his mouth and took a sip of wine.

  “As you know, I always come prepared, my Lady,” he said, bowing his head slightly towards Lady Marmalade. “But can a man not enjoy a few precious moments with his meal first?”

  “No, out of the question,” joked Ellis.

  “Of course, he can,” said Lilly.

  “We don’t want to rush him. It’s in the telling of the tale where Sir Tony really excels,” said Frances.

  “I am looking forward to it. Now that Ellis mentioned it, I do recall with fondness the story you told before, though I forget what it was about,” said Jane.

  “Pirates of the high seas,” said Ellis, “or something like that. A very fun story if I ever did hear one.”

  Anthony nodded.

  “Pirates, yes, I remember that one. Based very loosely, I might add, on the lightest hint of truth,” he said, his eyes twinkling.

  “Who doesn’t enjoy a good swashbuckling?” asked Frances. “I certainly do.”

  “Oh yes, me too. Now that I remember it, it was very energetic.”

  “That’s right, both in the telling and the content,” said Jane. “If I recall correctly, it went past dinner and into the wee hours.”

  Ellis and Lilly both nodded. Lady Marmalade put a dribble of mint sauce on her lamb, enjoying the sweet, piney scent as it wafted up from the hot lamb.

  “So, what do you have for us today?” asked Ellis.

  Sir Anthony put down his knife and fork and dabbed at his mouth with his napkin again. Then he looked at them, each in turn, pausing for a moment and drumming up the drama.

  “Actually,” he said, “I think you’ll all like this one, but especially Fran. Being our best, yet unrecognized, modern day sleuth, I thought this one would get the little gray cells ticking.”

  “Unrecognized, yes, best, I’m not sure about,” said Frances.

  “You’re just being modest. Even though Scotland Yard gets all the glory, those in the know recognize the true brains behind that operation,” said Jane.

  “So it’s a mystery then, is it?” asked Lilly.

  Anthony looked at her with the utmost seriousness.

  “My dear,” he said, “it is a mystery of the utmost sinisterness and seriousness.”

  He kept his eyes on her, quite seriously and with his brow furrowed. Lilly brought her hand up to her mouth and giggled.

  “Oh, my,” she said, �
�this does sound awful.”

  “Awful indeed, my dear, for this is a tale of murder most foul,” said Anthony, with all the solemnity he could bear.

  “Oh, how frightful,” said Jane.

  “Yes, indeed,” said Anthony, “but thankfully, the murderer has been caught and justice has been swift. But, will any of you be able to determine the true identity of the murderer as I retell this tale of murder?”

  Sir Anthony had everyone’s rapt attention. He loved it. He was a gifted storyteller, and perhaps in another time he might have written stories. Perhaps even murder mysteries like the acclaimed Grand Dame of mysteries, Agatha Christie or the renowned Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.

  “I think I might give it a try,” said Lady Marmalade, winking at her friends.

  “Not fair, Fran, only as long as you go last can you play,” said Jane.

  “Hear, hear,” said Ellis, raising his just about empty wine glass.

  “I think that’s only fair,” said Anthony.

  “Okay, you rotten sports, I’ll go last. That is, if no one has guessed right by then,” said Fran.

  “I’ll tell you what, just to make it even more fun, how about we let everyone guess and I won’t tell who is right until everyone has had their turn guessing?” asked Anthony.

  “I like that, I vote yes,” said Lilly.

  Everyone agreed. Alfred came around and took away empty plates. Moments later, Ginny came back into the dining room carrying a tray with five flummery puddings on it. Alfred handed one out to each of the guests.

  The white, rather bland oatmeal based pudding was smooth like cottage cream and gelatinous, molded in the shape of the United Kingdom. Dotted around the plates were coins of yellow bananas drizzled stingily with orange syrup. There was a plume of fiery cream to top the pudding off.

  “How perfectly delightful,” said Lilly. “How on earth did you manage to find a mold of the UK?”

  “I had to special order it from India of all places, if you can imagine that,” said Fran.

  “This flummery is simply too good looking to eat,” said Sir Tony.

  “I think the man doth protest too much,” said Ellis.

  “Just a moment, friends,” said Fran, “I have a special treat coming along with this dessert. Something that I think will pair nicely with the somewhat bland nature of our pudding.”

  Moments later, Alfred came back up holding a dark bottle that looked like it could be wine. He held it towards Lady Marmalade in white gloved hands, as if showing the new mother her first newborn.

  “That’s the one, Alfred, thank you. Please see if Sir Tony agrees.”

  Alfred took it to Sir Anthony and held it out with the same reverence he had used when showing it to Frances.

  “Will this be to your liking, sir?” asked Alfred.

  Anthony pulled out a pair of glasses from his breast pocket and put them on. He looked at the label peering down and then pulled his head back for a better look.

  “Dear, Fran,” he said, “you spoil us. This must have cost a fortune.”

  “Only the best for my friends. And it only cost a few pence.”

  “A few pence, you mean more like a hundred pounds.”

  “Pray tell, if it isn’t a secret, what’s in the bottle?” asked Ellis.

  “My dear man,” said Tony, “this here, is a very rare 1900 forty-year barrel aged tawny port.”

  “I do say, that is quite the treat, Frances. Are you sure?” asked Ellis.

  Lady Marmalade nodded.

  “I’m quite sure, I’ve been waiting for a special occasion and this is a special occasion. It isn’t often that one is able to enjoy the company of dear friends. Not in the frenetic pace that modern life has us at.”

  Lady Marmalade tried to look sternly at Sir Tony.

  “But, and this is the caveat, we can only enjoy the port if Sir Tony will regale us.”

  “Agreed,” said Anthony. “You had me at ‘tawny port’.”

  Alfred uncorked the port and served everyone in the same order, except this time he served Tony a snifter full first. Tony was naturally very pleased.

  “I think this port of yours, Fran, is too good for the flim-flam.”

  Everyone chuckled and clinked glasses again. Lilly took a sip and smiled at Lady Marmalade.

  “I’ve never had a forty year old port,” she said. “It is such a treat to try something new.”

  “I’m glad to hear it my dear, but the question is, do you enjoy it?”

  “Good heavens yes, I fear that I shall never be able to drink younger port again. You’ve ruined me.”

  Lady Marmalade smiled.

  “Well, Anthony, let’s get on with it. We aren’t getting any younger,” said Fran.

  “Can a man, not take a moment to enjoy one of the world’s most treasured ports?”

  “Yes, he can,” said Frances, pausing for a few seconds. “Time’s up.”

  She smiled mischievously at him.

  “I shall have Alfred take your glass of port and pour it back in the bottle, Sir Tony,” said Frances.

  Anthony put his hands up in defense.

  “Okay, okay,” he said, “I give up. Let me tell you a tale about a dastardly deed. A tale of murder most foul, it will make sweat across your brow bead. Hmm, perhaps I’ll tell it without my poor attempt at rhyme.”

  Lilly and Ellis took a bite of their flummery. It was smooth and soft like pudding should be, with the barest hint of sweet orange and cream.

  “Let me take a moment to wet my whistle, if you’ll indulge your bard for just a moment,” said Tony.

  “Oh, Tony, you are too much,” said Fran.

  “It’s the theatrics, my dear Fran, that make the telling so remarkable,” said Tony.

  “Are there oranges in the flummery, Frances?” asked Lilly.

  “A bit of orange oil and zest of orange,” Frances replied looking at her.

  “Wonderful complement,” said Lilly.

  “You know, Frances,” said Ellis, “that hint of orange adds such a wonderful fullness when one takes a sip of port after.”

  “Oh yes,” said Jane, “I quite agree. You are pure genius in the kitchen.”

  Lady Marmalade smiled.

  “I only wish, all the thanks for the wonderful meal must go to my housekeeper, Ginny Johnson. She offers suggestions and I just give the rubber stamp to them.”

  “You must bring her out when we’re done so I can thank her personally,” said Jane.

  “Agreed,” said Lilly.

  Ellis nodded his head. Sir Tony coughed across the table. They looked at him.

  “I’m trying to tell a tale of death and intrigue, if you don’t mind,” he said, winking at them.

  “I don’t mind at all,” said Lady Marmalade, teasing him. “Anyone else mind if Sir Tony tells a tall tale?”

  Everyone shook their heads.

  “While the night is young,” said Ellis, smiling.

  The clock struck eight. They all listened to the eight chimes as it went by.

  “Aha, the night is still young, my dear man,” said Anthony.

  Sir Anthony Gibbons took a sip of his port to smooth his vocal cords.

  “It was a dark and stormy night,” began Sir Tony.

  Lady Marmalade rolled her eyes.

  “No, really,” said Tony, “it was a dark and stormy night.”

  “OK, then, Tony, carry on,” said Frances.

  “And there were five people enjoying a fine meal. A meal not very dissimilar to ours. In fact, if you’ll indulge me for a moment, they were eating lamb chops with potato salad and pan-fried asparagus. This was a delicious meal.”

  “Doesn’t sound as good as ours. Did they have port?” asked Ellis.

  “I’m getting to that. With the meal was offered mint sauce, applesauce, and a sauce of honey, lemon and garlic. Strange, I know, but such were the eclectic tastes of those at the table. The lady of the house had the mint sauce. Her husband had apple sauce, as did their son. The husband’s sister-i
n-law had lemon and garlic sauce as did the lady of the house’s female friend.”

  Anthony looked around at his audience. They weren’t finding the telling very intriguing at the moment.

  “Like us,” continued Tony, “they had drinks at their table. Both white and red wine were offered. The lady of the house had white wine while her husband and son had red wine. The husband’s sister-in-law stuck with soda water as she was a teetotaler and the lady’s female friend stuck with her gin and tonic.”

  “Gin and tonic, eh, just like you Fran,” said Jane.

  Lady Marmalade lifted her glass of port.

  “I’ll drink to that,” she said.

  “What about port, did they have port?” asked Ellis again.

  “Why are you so curious as to whether they had port or not?” asked Lilly.

  “Because I want to get to the end of their dinner to the actual murder. Unless this is really just a gourmand’s tale of succulent foods. All of which have been no better than ours so far.”

  “I’m getting to dessert,” said Anthony. “Dessert was served to everyone and it was trifle. Everyone enjoyed their trifle and they had it accompanied with after dinner drinks. Yes, Ellis, there was port, but there were also a bunch of other drinks on offer. The husband had Frangelico, the wife—to this point called the lady of the house—had port, her female friend had Chambord and her sister—to this point called the husband’s sister-in-law—had Grappa. The son meanwhile took a snifter of brandy.”

  “And then they all said goodnight and went to bed, after which Sir Tony woke up with a headache from too much port the night before,” joked Ellis.

  “Very funny,” said Tony, “that completes the matter of their dinner. Though, I should add that the son and father went off to the smoking room where they each enjoyed a cigar with more brandy. The brandy this time for both of them. The women went to the living room where cheese, grapes and crackers were on offer. Only the wife had a slice of cheese, and only her female friend had a few grapes. The others ate nothing more.”

  “Is all of this quite necessary to the tale, Sir Tony?” asked Lilly.

  “My dear, when it comes to murder, even the smallest of details can be crucial to determining who did it. Ask Lady Marmalade.”

  Sir Tony and Lilly looked at Frances with expectation.

  “It is quite true. Sir Tony is absolutely correct. Whenever I’m looking to determine who the murderer is, the two most important things I pay attention to are motive and clues. And depending on the investigation, one of the two, either the motive or the clues, takes precedent.”

 

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