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Lady Marmalade Cozy Murder Mysteries: Box Set (Books 1 - 3)

Page 16

by Jason Blacker


  Frances looked at him, but he just stared into his drink.

  “This is silly, of course Jack had a pistol,” said Meredith. “When you live out here and you’ve been through the Great War, one wants to take the necessary precautions to protect oneself. That’s not a crime you know.”

  Frances looked at Meredith and smiled.

  “That wasn’t so hard was it? How do you know Jack had a pistol?”

  “He showed it to me for heaven’s sake.”

  “And like father like son, Garrett?” asked Frances.

  Garrett finally looked up and took a drink. He shrugged his shoulders.

  “So I do, and what of it?”

  “Nothing,” said Frances, “but I find it odd, don’t you, that Jack was in Liverpool and shot by a gun, we don’t know yet what kind, and the two of you don’t want to answer a simple question.”

  “It’s been a long, trying night, Lady Frances,” said Meredith, “you can’t know what it’s like, we’re just tired is all.”

  “I can see that,” said Frances. “Tired because I think the two of you know more than you’re letting on. I’d even suspect you were in Liverpool too, the both of you.”

  Frances looked at them carefully, Garrett’s eyes danced around the room and he took a good swallow of Scotch. Meredith blinked her eyes several times even though it wasn’t all that dry in the living room.

  “Good heavens, that’s the silliest thing I ever heard,” said Meredith, uttering a false laugh and looking at Garrett, but he wouldn’t return her look.

  “The truth will come out eventually,” said Lady Marmalade. “Someone will be willing to talk. And if not the two of you then I suspect someone else.”

  “Why don’t you just go back to London and leave it to the police to figure it out?” said Garrett with only half the threatening tone he had hoped to muster.

  “Because, Garrett, you’re very nice and dare I say, almost saintly, mother brought me into her home as a stranger and fed me and treated me well. The least I can do is try and bring some justice to her unfortunate end.”

  “And I’m grateful for that, my mother deserved more, but I’m sure the police will have a handle on it.”

  “She’s also doing it as a favor to me,” said Florence. “And frankly, I want to get at the truth now that I’ve met you two. You should both be ashamed of yourselves. You,” she said looking at Meredith, “for carrying on with a married man, and you,” looking at Garrett, “for not offering as much help to Lady Marmalade as you can and should.”

  They heard James walk towards the front door, his steps echoing back more quietly with each step. There had been a knock. An impatient and belligerent knock if you could call it that. They all sat on the edges of their seats as James opened the door and welcomed the guests into the home. They heard the voices and then several pairs of shoes echoing down the hallways, coming towards them, louder and louder like a judge’s gavel.

  NINETEEN

  Chapter 19

  IT didn’t take long for James to enter the living room, bringing with him two policemen.

  “Lady Marmalade, Inspector Gibbard is here.”

  James bowed.

  “If I might offer tea?” asked James.

  And as if hearing him, the grandfather clock struck eleven. Lady Marmalade nodded and James bowed again.

  “So now you’ve taken to ordering my butler around?” asked Garrett.

  “Well, my dear Garrett, he asked and I responded. Are you likely to be keeping him around? He’s owed wages in arrears. Half of what he should be paid to this point.”

  Garrett ignored Lady Marmalade and looked over at Inspector Gibbard. It didn’t look like he had changed his suit, yet it was in better shape for it than Garrett’s.

  “Good morning, inspector,” said Garrett.

  Inspector Gibbard nodded.

  “I’m glad to find the two of you here. I need to ask you some questions. You’ll remember Constable Warren Leavens.”

  The four of them nodded at the constable as he stood to the side of the door, his hands clasped behind him and his posture as stiff as a rod. It appeared, though you had to look carefully, that he might have nodded back. Inspector Gibbard walked towards the four of them seated almost in a square. He came up to the left side of Lady Marmalade, standing between Meredith and Frances and opposite Garrett.

  “I imagine you know why I’m here.”

  Nobody said anything, Garrett swirled his drink, sitting back in the couch with his left arm flung over the back of it. Meredith kept her Tom Collins close to her mouth, sipping it now and then. Florence had adjusted herself to look at Inspector Gibbard more easily. Frances found craning her neck to see him too much effort and she was more interested in keeping her eyes on Garrett and Meredith.

  “Last night, at around two a.m., so the coroner informs me, Jack Forsyth was shot once in the chest at Albert Dock in Liverpool. He died at the scene.”

  Inspector Gibbard looked around and his eyes finally fell on Frances.

  “Do you have a man looking in the cars parked outside, Inspector?” asked Frances.

  “We do.”

  “Good, because I think these two know more about it than they’re letting on.”

  Gibbard looked at both Meredith and Garrett, steadying his gaze on each one in turn.

  “Do you have anything to say?” asked Gibbard.

  Meredith took a dainty sip of her drink, Garrett stared at his, swirling it around seeing how high up the rim he could get the golden liquid.

  “I was there,” said Meredith, though it was more like a whisper. Garrett looked up at her and frowned ever so slightly. She didn’t look at him.

  “I beg your pardon madam?” said Gibbard.

  “I said, Inspector, that I was there.”

  Her voice carried better this time and everyone could hear her. Lady Marmalade smiled just at the corners of her mouth. Now they were getting somewhere. At least Meredith could tell the truth when it suited her.

  “You were where, Ms. Church?” asked Gibbard.

  “I was with Jack last night in Liverpool.”

  “I see, go on.”

  “Well, that’s all there is to it, I was there.”

  “Ms. Church, if you don’t speak with me plainly now, I can take you down to the station where we can have all day to talk about it. Who shot Jack?”

  Inspector Gibbard’s voice was loud and authoritarian, cutting through the room as cleanly as the clock’s chimes. Meredith looked up at Garrett and he squinted at her as if to tell her something, but he didn’t open his mouth.

  “We have to say something, Garrett,” she said.

  “You bloody well keep me out of this!” he yelled.

  “I believe they were both there, Inspector,” said Frances.

  Gibbard nodded and stared at Garrett and then at Meredith, giving them both, in turn, his stony glare.

  “Get on with it, Ms. Church.”

  “I was with Jack, we left here just before one. You have to understand, Inspector, he was in with the wrong sort, this was going to be his last trip to the docks.”

  “And what happened?”

  Meredith’s hand was shaking slightly so she flattened it against her thigh and took a long sip from Tom Collins. She looked up at Gibbard nervously.

  “We arrived at the docks at about twenty to two. He parked the car out of the way and told me to wait for him in the car. This was all supposed to be so easy, he was just going to pick up a few things from a ship and then we were supposed to leave. Instead...”

  Meredith took her tissue and dabbed at her eyes again.

  “What happened, Ms. Church?” asked Gibbard, he was clearly becoming impatient.

  She looked at him and blinked her eyes a couple of times then dabbed them one last time. She looked over at Garrett.

  “I’m sorry,” she said.

  “Don’t!”

  Meredith looked up at the Inspector, her eyes still welling with tears.

 
“Before Jack could get to the ship he was stopped by...”

  She looked over at Garrett, he was shaking his head and his face was a scowl. She looked over at Gibbard and he nodded for her to continue.

  “Garrett was there with some woman, he stopped Jack and they had an argument.”

  “How do you know they were arguing, could you hear them?” asked Gibbard.

  Meredith shook her head.

  “No, but you could tell they were arguing. They were gesticulating back and forth, I could see by the expressions on their faces that they were shouting at each other. At one point Jack pushed Garrett to get him out of the way and I saw Garrett pull out a gun and he pointed it at Jack...”

  “This is preposterous, I’m not going to sit here and listen to these slanderous accusations,” said Garrett as he started to get up from the couch.

  “Constable,” said Gibbard, and Constable Leavens stepped forward and Garrett thought better of it and sat back down with a sigh.

  “Inspector, please, this woman is a backstabbing cow who cheated on my mother with my own bloody father. You can’t take a word she says seriously.”

  Gibbard put up his hand to stop Garrett.

  “Let her finish.”

  Then he looked over at Meredith and nodded at her. Meredith took the last sip from her Tom Collins with a trembling hand.

  “And then I heard a loud bang and Jack fell to the ground. Garrett and this woman he was with just stared at him lying there for a minute, the gun still pointing at where Jack had stood. Then they ran off and I haven’t seen him until this morning.”

  “And I take it you have a gun, Mr. Forsyth?” asked Gibbard, looking at him sternly.

  “Inspector,” said Garrett, trying to put on a brave face with a smile that kept slipping off like a bad toupee. Garrett held out both hands towards the inspector, palms up, the tumbler in his right. “I have a Webley, but you must believe me, I didn’t kill my father. I didn’t shoot him.”

  “We’ll see about that. Ms. Church, did you see anyone else in the vicinity when Jack was shot?” asked Gibbard.

  Meredith shook her head.

  “No, I didn’t...” she paused and then looked off to the side. “Actually, Inspector, now that you ask there was someone else.”

  “Who?”

  “I could have sworn it was Gerald, Jack’s brother. I thought I saw him running from the dock after I heard Garrett shoot Jack. And then I distinctly remember him driving off in his car shortly after.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Well, I’m sure it was his car. I only saw him running away from behind some containers at the dock. It certainly looked like him, but I can’t be certain. It was definitely his car though, that drove off.”

  “Inspector,” said Lady Marmalade. “If I may?”

  Gibbard looked over at her and nodded.

  “How did you know that your father was going to the docks, Garrett?”

  “Well, my mother told me last week. She had overheard him on the telephone, complaining to whomever was on the other end and telling them that this would be his last. He wrote the address and time on the pad of paper by the phone and my mother saw it through the indentation left on the sheet beneath.”

  “Did you tell anyone else about it?”

  “Well, I spoke with my uncle Gerald about it. I told him I was going to confront my father about this nonsense as a last ditch attempt to get him to straighten out. I swear, Lady Frances, I didn’t shoot him.”

  “But, dear boy, you were confronting him with a gun. How do you explain that?” asked Frances.

  Garrett hung his head low, his elbows resting on his knees, and he shook his head slowly and sadly, like a tired old dog.

  “I know,” he said. “It looks bad. But you see, my father wouldn’t listen to me. He thought I was lazy and no good. I took my gun, and I know it was stupid now, but I took it just to try and scare some sense into him and get him to listen to me.”

  “You need to be honest and forthright, Garrett,” said Frances, “if you sincerely want my help. Why were you confronting your father with a young woman by your side, your half-sister, Lottie, I’m assuming.”

  Meredith took the opportunity with all eyes off her to get up and mix herself another Tom Collins. It was the only man in the room with whom she felt comfortable. Constable Leavens kept a careful watch on her until she came back down and took her seat.

  “Yes, you’re right. I was with Lottie, I also wanted to confront him about his daughter. I didn’t tell Gerald about that part, but I really wanted him to take responsibility. We were going to try and find out where this gold was. I wanted to give it to Lottie, she hasn’t had an easy life you know. And he owed her. He owed her!”

  “What’s this gold all about?” asked Gibbard.

  “I believe that Meredith might have the answer to that, Inspector,” said Frances.

  Inspector Gibbard looked over at her. At the far end of the living room, another constable, and if Lady Marmalade remembered correctly this was Constable Dobson, came in through the French Doors.

  “I’m waiting,” said Gibbard.

  Meredith looked up at him and then over at Lady Marmalade, avoiding looking at Garrett at all.

  “Jack was involved with the wrong sort. He was supposed to pick up a couple of young women and some gold, he said, which he had to take to Blackpool on Friday.”

  “And who was he going to deliver these women and gold too?”

  “He didn’t say,” said Meredith.

  “A man by the name of Lee Chan,” said Lady Marmalade. “He owns a restaurant in Blackpool called The Flying Chan. He deals in prostitutes, opium and gambling. Mr. Forsyth owed a substantial amount of money to him.”

  Gibbard looked over at Lady Marmalade and raised his eyebrow.

  “I see, and how do you know all of this?”

  “I’ve made inquiries, Inspector, and Enoch Habbit mentioned some of this to me.”

  “And you believe him?”

  “I do,” said Frances, turning to look at Meredith. “What did he say about the gold, dear?”

  “Not much, other than he was just going to pick up a few coins of it. He said they were extremely valuable.”

  Frances nodded her head. Gibbard beckoned over the constable. The constable came over. In his left hand he was holding two Webley revolvers, identical.

  “I found one in each of the cars,” he said to Gibbard.

  “Good, go and put them away as evidence.”

  “It’s not looking good for you, Mr. Forsyth,” said Gibbard. “But I’d like to know, Ms. Church, why you left a dying man in the docks and drove all the way back here without alerting authorities?”

  Meredith took a long drink from Tom Collins, her hand still trembled.

  “I was scared, Inspector. When Jack got shot I was in shock. I couldn’t believe what I had just seen. Then I saw Garrett and that woman run off and Gerald too. I got out of the car and grabbed Jack’s gun which he had left in the glove compartment with me. I went up to him, but he was already dead. I heard some men coming to see what was going on. They looked rough, I don’t know, I got back in the car and drove here. I’ve never seen anything like this, Inspector, you have to believe me I was scared out of my wits.”

  “So you’re saying to me, Ms. Church, that we won’t find Jack’s gun to have been fired?”

  “Yes, Inspector, I didn’t shoot him. He was shot in the front, I was watching him from behind.”

  “You won’t find my gun has been shot either, Inspector. I’m telling you, someone else was there, and I felt the bullet whizz past my right side,” said Garrett.

  “Convenient,” said Gibbard. “And this woman, Lottie, was she the one with you?”

  Garrett nodded his head sadly.

  “And I suppose she can corroborate what you’re telling.”

  “Yes, she will. Honestly, she will.”

  “Something we need to do, Inspector,” said Lady Marmalade, “is to speak with G
erald Forsyth.”

  “Thank you, Lady Marmalade,” said Gibbard sarcastically, looking down at her as she sat next to him. “But I’m quite aware of how to do my job.”

  “Yes, Inspector, I have no doubt you imagine yourself quite competent. But what you don’t know is that Gerald had recently taken out a substantial life insurance policy on Jack.”

  “And what do you consider substantial?”

  “One hundred thousand pounds.”

  “Really?”

  Inspector Gibbard stopped for a moment and looked at Frances for a long while. She stopped looking up at him. Her hair was in brunette curls. Her scarf was now around her neck. After some time thinking about what she had just said, he looked over at Garrett.

  “Did you know about this?”

  “No, Inspector, I did not know about this.”

  He turned back to look at Lady Marmalade.

  “And how do you know about this?”

  Frances looked up at him and smiled simply.

  “You ask the right questions of the right people and you get the answers you’re seeking.”

  Gibbard turned away from her.

  “I’ll look into this further and I plan on speaking with Gerald Forsyth at the first opportunity. But right now I’m quite satisfied with the evidence. Garrett Forsyth, you’ll come with us. You’re under arrest for the murder of your father Jack Forsyth.”

  Garrett looked up at the inspector, his eyes big as eggs.

  “But I didn’t do it, you’ve got to be joking.”

  “I’m quite serious, Mr. Forsyth. Don’t make this harder for yourself than it has to be. Constable.”

  Constable Leavens stepped forward. Garrett stood up as stiff as a pole and drank the last of his Scotch. He handed the empty tumbler to Florence who took it reluctantly. He turned to Lady Marmalade.

  “Please, you must speak with Lottie, she knows who did it, I’m sure she does. I swear to you, I’m innocent.”

  He started to walk out with the constable right behind him.

  “What’s her address?” asked Frances.

  “Twenty-one King Street,” he said as he left the living room. Inspector Gibbard started out behind them.

 

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