by Kate Parker
“This is a nice dinner party, yes?” he asked. “The view before it grew dark was superb.”
He had a thick accent. Not German. Not Russian. I couldn’t place it. “If I may ask, where are you from, Mr.…?”
“Frederiksen. I am from Denmark.”
It only took me a moment to remember the name. “Oh, you’re engaged to be married to Lady Patricia.”
“Yes, and then I will take up my position as ambassador to your nation from mine.”
“Congratulations on both counts.” I decided to see how he would respond to my probing. “You are in quite an important position, seeing as your country shares a border with Germany. That hasn’t been a lucky position for other countries, like Austria and Czechoslovakia.”
He smiled, and I was reminded of a poisonous snake. “This fish is very good.” He took another bite and savored it.
I tried it as well. It was good, but nothing to show such enjoyment over. Why didn’t he want to say how he felt about politics or the Nazis? We weren’t at war with them. Yet. I made another attempt. “Do you think we’ll end up in a war with Germany?”
“It would make no sense. We have too much in common with them. It is not good to fight with neighbors. Still, you fought against them in the Great War, all for the sake of your alliances.”
“We have alliances again that may require us to fight Germany.” And that was frightening.
He shook his head. “Alliances aren’t doing the Czechs any good. Perhaps every country should admit they don’t want to fight the Nazis and let them go about their business.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
“Let’s hope there will be nothing to fight about, that the Germans will let others go about their business, too.” No one, even those who believed war with Hitler was inevitable, wanted a war. And my dinner partner’s country didn’t have the luxury of the Channel between them and Germany.
“No one wants to see England crushed.” He held my gaze. “I know it is a subject that vexes the Duke of Marshburn. He is very worried about the destruction of England if they choose to fight Germany.”
I stared back. “What about the chances of seeing Denmark crushed?”
“That’s why we try to stay neutral. We are a small country surrounded by larger ones.” He smiled and added, “This is too gloomy for a dinner party. What do you think of the painting on the far wall?”
It was of a face in orange and purple and I thought it was awful. I was saved from answering by the arrival of the fowl dish, so I could turn back to Sir John. We ate in silence for a few minutes before he said, “Baked chicken with pieces of potato in gravy. Good, solid fare. I like their cook.”
“I’m sorry I came tonight.”
He raised his eyebrows, but his eyes showed concern.
“The man on my other side says the Duke of Marshburn expects we’d be destroyed by Germany if we fight.”
Sir John gave me a smile. A genuine smile. “Thank the Lord we have the navy and the Channel.”
“You think we’ll be crushed, too?”
“No, Livvy.” Then he scowled. “How does this man know what Marshburn thinks?”
“He’s marrying Marshburn’s daughter.”
“That’s unfortunate. Marshburn is a defeatist. Pay no attention to those types.” He shook his head. “What I fear is a stalemated war like we had last time. Facing each other for months, shooting and bombing, without moving an inch. That’s when we lose so many good men on both sides.”
Gloomy over his words, we ate our chicken in silence.
Then came the fruit and ices and having to face the new ambassador again. He kept silent as he enjoyed the apple pieces and cherries and delighted in the ices. I was beginning to relax and enjoy my food when he suddenly turned to me and said, “You have a close friend in the British military, don’t you?”
I thought of Adam and a British collapse if we fought Germany, and my dinner nearly made a reappearance. I stared at him, angry about how he was tormenting me.
He smiled, which somehow made it worse. “I’m not a mind reader. Someone here tonight mentioned you have a friend in the British army, so you must be worried about him with our current international situation. I wish him well. I wouldn’t want to be in his position, to be on the losing side if your government pushes you into a war, but I wish him, and you, well.”
“We’ve been counted out before and ended up victorious.” My tone made him lean back slightly and look at me. Then I took another spoonful of my ice, but I found it suddenly tasteless.
“But you are far behind in building tanks and planes. At least this war, if there is one, will be short. The Germans will do no more than is necessary to take control of your island. They’ve given their assurances to Denmark, and I’m sure they will to Britain, too.”
I suspected my anger was sending danger signals from my eyes. “What if we don’t want to be controlled by the Nazis?”
The next Danish ambassador nodded to me and turned back to his ice.
All of the locals left the dinner party as soon after coffee was served as was polite, leaving just a few guests behind. I caught sight of Lady Patricia, holding hands with my dinner partner the ambassador while she gave me a cold glare.
I changed direction and walked over to her. “Nice to see you again. Best wishes for your wedding. Is your trousseau completed?”
She looked like she wanted me to go away. “Yes. Mimi did a wonderful job.”
I hoped I could goad her into saying something about Mimi that I could use to find the French assassin. “That’s fortunate. I suspect her London fashion house won’t be around for long.”
“Then it’s a good thing you don’t know what you’re talking about.” She turned then and walked away. The new ambassador nodded and followed her.
I went outside and joined Abby, all the time suspecting I’d given away more than I’d gained.
Once we were in the auto heading back to Summersby House, Abby went on and on about the clever modernization of Little Hedges.
When I could stand it no longer, I said, “Was anyone else told how Britain will quickly lose the war against Germany and so we should just give up now?”
“No!” My father came close to shouting.
Abby and Sir John both said “No” in puzzled voices.
“Who was saying this?” Abby asked.
“The new Danish ambassador, who is marrying Marshburn’s daughter. I was sitting next to him at dinner.”
“I wonder if Palmer agrees with him,” my father said as if to himself.
“Why?” I asked, able to hear him since we were both in the back seat.
“Just a rumor I heard.”
I knew better than to question him further when he said something was a rumor.
“I don’t think we need to accept any more invitations to Little Hedges,” Sir John said.
“I’m glad we went the once,” Abby said. “That house is magnificent. Remember what it looked like when old Mrs. Miller lived there?”
“I was always afraid it would fall down on her,” Sir John said.
“Are you going up to town in the morning or staying for another round of golf?” I asked my father.
“Are you going to church with us?” Abby asked.
“After tonight’s dinner, I feel in need of some prayers,” I agreed.
As it turned out, I didn’t leave for town until after my father had finished his round of golf with Sir John. Abby and I rode bicycles down country lanes, enjoying the fresh autumn air. When I asked my father if I’d be able to reach General Alford on a Sunday, he told me to wait for the morning and then call the War Office. I was eager to tell him what I’d learned, but I was also tired and ready for a quiet evening at home with a book.
But after the tranquillity of the countryside and a few hours with a book, I was ready Monday morning for the tramp of a million feet traveling along the pavement and the rumble of taxis and buses as I made my way toward Fleet Street. The weather was still warm
and dry, so I carried my furled umbrella and wore a gray, light wool suit with a lavender blouse. I entered the Daily Premier building with a spring in my step.
It wasn’t quite time to start work, so I picked up a telephone receiver and dialed the number for General Alford’s office. He wasn’t in, so I left a message.
When I put down the receiver, I heard, “Livvy.”
I looked up to see one of the new girls come over with a message slip in her hand. “This came for you on Friday.”
The message read, “It’s important I talk to you immediately. Something has come up about Josef that you don’t know. I must see you as soon as possible, day or night. Reina.”
I went over to Miss Westcott. “This message came in for me on Friday. I need to go out for a little while.”
“Sir Henry has a lot to answer for,” she grumbled. “Go on. Just hurry back.”
I took off immediately for the Underground, the fastest way across town at this time of day. Had Reina learned the name of Elias’s wife? Had she found another clue in the basement?
And all the time I hurried down the pavement toward Mimi’s salon, I was afraid of what I’d overlooked. I hoped Reina wasn’t in danger.
But it had been three days.
I pushed open the front door of the salon and tried to catch my breath. The young woman behind the desk looked at me curiously as I rushed toward her.
Finally, I said in a gasp, “I need to speak to Reina.”
A man’s voice said, “You’re too late.”
I spun around to find Detective Inspector Smith standing behind me. “What happened?”
“Reina was found bludgeoned to death in the basement this morning.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
“What? No. That’s awful.” I felt sick, shattered. I couldn’t believe it. I was too late to find out what Reina wanted to tell me. Had been desperate to tell me from the tone of her message.
Too late to save her life.
“Why did you want to speak to her so urgently that you’re out of breath?” the detective asked.
I opened my purse and handed him the note.
“This could have been written by anyone at any time. The date and time mean nothing,” he said, handing back the note.
“Reina called my office,” I told him. “No one would forge this. The only thing Reina would have wanted to tell me that was important was the name of Elias’s wife. Reina met her about ten years ago. Reina and Elias came from the same village.”
“Do you find the fact that Elias was married to be important?” The detective was studying me now.
“Yes. Scotland Yard was informed he had met with a group of financial backers here in London. According to a witness, he recognized someone. At no time did he or any other person there indicate they knew each other, so they were trying to keep it a secret from the other people present. It was after this meeting that Elias told Reina he wanted her to keep something safe for him. Whatever this thing was, the killer took it with him or her.”
“You think his wife is here?”
I shook my head. “Various stories say his wife is dead or in a German prison. But a member of the wife’s family, blaming Elias for his wife’s imprisonment or death, might have killed Elias and then Reina if she discovered their connection.”
The detective was scribbling notes in his book. “You know his name wasn’t Elias?”
“Josef Meirsohn. Reina also knew his real name.”
He stopped writing and glared at me. “Would have been nice if you’d told us.”
I glared back. “It was days before I found out, and by then I assumed the army had already told you.”
“Anything else we need to know?”
“Reina has a cousin, a young girl, in Paris, who’ll need to be notified.” I took a couple of deep breaths, upset at the waste of a gentle, talented life. “You’re sure it’s murder?”
He nodded.
I suspected I wore the same grim expression he did. “When did it happen?”
“Sometime yesterday. They called in a plumber on Friday who came and went by the basement, Madame Mareau’s orders, and no one locked up after him. It wasn’t until this morning that they noticed Reina was missing and started a search.”
“The poor girl. Lying dead while above her, they went about their business, coming and going, and no one noticed she wasn’t there.” I stared at the ceiling as a shudder passed through me. How awful.
“They were all enjoying a day off here in London, it being Sunday. Someone saw her go out about mid-morning. No one saw her return. And her colleagues said she was often by herself when she wasn’t working.”
I nodded. That was true of what I’d seen of Reina. “Who saw her go out?”
He flipped through a couple of pages in his notebook. “A woman named Fleur. She was also the one to find the body.”
It had been Fleur who looked after an upset Reina when Josef Meirsohn’s body was first discovered. Thinking about it now, I couldn’t decide if Fleur had acted out of friendship or because Mimi wanted everything about her salon to appear calm. Professional. Innocent of any crime.
In which case, Fleur was Mimi’s enforcer, making Reina follow the designer’s wishes. I had seen that day how much Reina wanted to cry over the loss of her childhood friend, and Fleur had been her support when Mimi didn’t want her to break down.
She had appeared like a sensible older sister. Was Fleur’s support out of compassion or brutality?
I wanted to see her one more time. “Have you moved her body?”
“The police surgeon’s not arrived yet.”
“May I see her? See the crime scene.”
He frowned. “Why?”
That was hard to answer. I didn’t really know her. I couldn’t claim a familial or social relationship. “She’d urgently called for me on Friday. I suppose I just want to apologize for not responding before now.”
“Where were you?”
“Out of town at a relative’s.” Not an informative answer.
“You can tell her, but I can assure you, she won’t hear you,” Inspector Smith said. He accepted my answer at face value, and I was grateful.
“But Inspector, I owe her that much.”
“All right. Just for a moment, and don’t touch anything.”
I followed the detective downstairs to where a few constables were taking photos and measurements. Reina was between the outside door and the steps, her bloodied head toward the steps as she lay facedown on the cold stone floor. “Did any of the neighbors see anyone coming or going from the outside staircase yesterday?”
“Not that we’ve found so far. We’re not holding out much hope.” Smith stood at the bottom of the interior steps, making sure I couldn’t get past him.
I stood on the bottom step, trying not to gag at the rotten smell that would be absorbed into the frocks kept down there. “Have you found the murder weapon?” I asked.
“No.”
“Check all the trunks against the far wall,” I told him. “That’s where the first weapon was found, after Elias’s murder. Reina found it inside a bolt of cloth she was taking upstairs.”
The inspector gave a nod to the other man dressed in a suit who spoke quietly to a uniformed constable. “Have you seen enough?”
I nodded, and then bowed my head, hoping she knew how very sorry I was. “She’d turned her back on her attacker, just like Elias did. Why didn’t they fear him? Or her?”
“We’ll try to find out,” he said in a hard tone.
I went upstairs, letting the inspector get back to work, and found Mimi waiting at the ground-floor landing. “Satisfied?” she asked me. “Reina wouldn’t be dead if you hadn’t kept asking her about the body in our basement. Now we have two murders here, and I must find a new head seamstress.”
My jaw dropped and I was speechless for a moment. “Is that all you’re interested in? Two people are killed under your roof, and you’re worried about finding a new seamstress?”
The anger in her eyes fizzled and went out, leaving her shoulders slumped. “Of course not. Reina was part of my top management. I knew her. I trusted her. I did not want her to die so cruelly.”
“Fleur saw her go out yesterday. Fleur found her today.” I stared at Mimi.
“What are you trying to say?” Mimi hissed.
“Do you trust Fleur?”
“Of course I trust Fleur. And Reina trusted Fleur. She and Reina were friends.”
“Are you sure?”
I thought for a second that Mimi was going to physically attack me. “Yes. She was our friend. Now, please leave and let us mourn her in peace.”
“She was a Jew, and you good French Catholics are going to mourn her?” There was scorn in my tone.
Mimi looked down and answered me in French. “She was our friend. Our coworker. She was kind and honest. Her Jewishness doesn’t seem to matter now that she’s been murdered.”
“And the Duke of Marshburn? Does it matter to him?”
She looked up then, her dark eyes snapping. “It doesn’t matter what he thinks. She was our friend, not his.”
“May I speak to Fleur for a moment?”
“I don’t know where she is and I’m not going to go looking for her. Call back another day.” She pointed toward the front door.
I had no choice but to leave, questions still nagging me.
* * *
My first stop once I reached the Daily Premier building was to the top floor at Sir Henry’s office. His secretary nodded at my whispered, “May I go in?”
When I opened the door, Sir Henry looked up and said, “Do we have a story yet?”
“Not the one you were planning. Reina, the childhood friend of Josef Meirsohn, also known as Elias, was murdered in the basement of Mimi Mareau’s salon. Just like Elias. Exactly like Elias. She left a frantic message for me here at the office on Friday. She was killed sometime yesterday and found this morning.” I rattled off the information as if I were reciting dry facts.
“Good grief. She was the source of your information on Elias, wasn’t she?”
“Yes.”