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

by Jason Blacker

  “Yes, my Lady. Will that be all?”

  Frances nodded and Jeremiah bowed before leaving, closing the door behind him. Frances turned her chair back and looked at Madge.

  “Please, don’t overrule this decision. I know it might seem inconvenient, but it’ll just be for the day. I have every faith that I’ll hear from Inspector Pearce tomorrow at the latest.”

  “If you think it is best, I’ll do what you suggest.”

  “Barring any unforeseen events, I’ll be round again late morning, or sooner if I’ve heard from Inspector Pearce.”

  Madge nodded and held out her hand. Frances took it in hers and patted it with her one hand as she held it in the other.

  “Thank you, so much. I’m sure this has been quite an inconvenience for you.”

  “Not at all. Try and go about your usual routine this evening and I’ll be round tomorrow.”

  Madge nodded. Frances stood up and turned to leave.

  “If you need anything or you think that things are somehow changing, please have Lula call me.”

  “I will.”

  “Of course, if things are quite serious, you should call the police first.”

  Madge nodded and Frances and Alfred left her room with Alfred closing the door behind them. Frances saw Matilda’s legs dash into her room. She walked up to the doorway and looked inside. Matilda had just got herself back onto the bed and was pretending to read, but it was easy to see it for the charade that it was.

  “Did you get what you needed?” asked Lady Marmalade.

  “I beg your pardon?” said Matilda trying to look upset at the intrusion.

  “Listening in on my conversation with Madge. Did you get all you needed from it?”

  “That’s absurd,” said Matilda, looking away and back at her book. “I’ve been reading ever since you came up.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, really.”

  “And do you always read upside down? Because you weren’t when we first came up.”

  Matilda looked at her book and it was upside down as Lady Marmalade had indicated.

  “Bugger,” she said. “Look, I just want to know what’s going on. That’s all. I know she received the letter today.”

  “Didn't Jeremiah tell you that I wanted to see you all downstairs?”

  “Well, yes, he did, and I was getting there.”

  “Then get on with it and I’ll let all of you know what’s going on.”

  Frances and Alfred stepped aside as Matilda exited the room, tossing her Agatha Christie novel on the bed as she left. They watched her disappear around the corner at the end of the hall, heading downstairs. Alfred turned to look at Frances.

  “Dare I say, that the prickly, abrasive Ms. Hollingsberry we first met was nowhere to be found this evening. She was almost pleasant.”

  Frances smiled at Alfred and nodded her head.

  “Quite. Staring death in the face will often have a humbling effect on most, if not all.”

  They walked down the hall, headed towards the living room, where Lady Marmalade wanted to make a few things very clear to the boarders, especially to one Mr. Colin Abbermann.

  FIFTEEN

  Chapter 15

  EVERYONE was downstairs waiting for Alfred and Frances when they turned into the living room from the hallway. Colin and Penelope sat on one couch and Matilda and Lula sat on the other. Jeremiah was standing off to the side of the couch where Colin and Penelope sat and Mollie was standing next to him. Colin and Penelope sat parallel to the entrance to the living room and they were the first two that Frances made eye to eye contact with.

  Frances took an armchair that was facing Colin and Alfred took the other armchair next to her that was facing Penelope. Frances took a moment to look around the room, her eyes taking a moment to catch everyone’s gaze in turn.

  “As you probably all know,” said Frances, “Ms. Hollingsberry received another of those threatening letters in today’s afternoon post.”

  Frances looked around to gauge the faces of everyone gathered.

  “I believe that this will be the last of the letters and so I have instructed Jeremiah not to allow any visitors to the house tonight or tomorrow. Not until I’ve had a chance to speak with Scotland Yard and make a determination as to who this culprit is who has the gall to write these letters. These letters concern me a very great deal. Are any of you expecting guests tonight or tomorrow?”

  Frances looked around the room. Matilda nodded her head and the others all shook theirs.

  “You’ll have to make other arrangements, then,” said Frances.

  “But I can’t, it’s very important that I receive the delivery.”

  “A delivery of what?”

  “I’m expecting a new a dressing table for my room, and I must have it tomorrow.”

  “That’s allowed. I don’t want any of your friends coming in. I want no one here other than who might have to be here on official business, in and out. Do I make myself clear.”

  There were murmurs of agreement.

  “What makes you think that you’ll be able to determine who the person is who wrote these letters?” asked Colin. “What if he masked his true hand when writing them?”

  “I believe that we’ll be able to determine that with the police graphologist. In any case, we already know who it is. We just have to find out their true identity.”

  “You do?” asked Colin a little shocked and surprised.

  “Yes, we do. It’s someone whose name was Michael as a boy. As Lula informed us when we visited, thank you Lula.”

  Lula smiled coyly and flitted a glance at Frances.

  “Michael was Madge’s son who had to be given up for adoption.”

  “Why?” asked Penelope with genuine curiosity.

  “That’s not for me to say, but I believe that Michael holds a grudge against his mother, a grudge based on falsehoods, it would seem, but a grudge nonetheless.”

  “That’s awful,” said Penelope, “that a son would want to harm his mother.”

  “Yes, it is. But we’re not going to let that happen. If you’ll all keep vigilant about not letting anyone into the home for this evening and tomorrow, I’m sure we’ll get to the bottom of this without any harm coming to anyone.”

  “I thought the only harm was pointed at Madge,” said Colin.

  Frances looked at him.

  “Yes, that’s true, however, I believe that one of you is involved in this scheme somehow, and as such I ask each and everyone of you to keep a close eye on all the others. Let the police know immediately if there is anything that concerns you.”

  “Why would any of us be involved?” asked Colin, “that sounds like rubbish to me. I mean what do we have to gain from it?”

  “That’s a very good question, indeed. And what you might have to gain from it might be something as little as the enjoyment of seeing Madge squirm. She is not the easiest woman to be around, I understand that, but the chance to return her unkindness with this sort of vengeance is likely to be something that one of you would find too good to pass up.”

  Colin didn’t say anything but took to chewing his fingernails. Matilda blew air across her face, making the hair over her forehead dance.

  “Well, it is quite the inconvenience,” she said, “just to entertain a batty old woman who, I might add, probably sent these letters to herself.”

  “I take these letters seriously, and I’d sooner have the four of you inconvenienced than Ms. Hollingsberry hurt, or worse. It is a small price to pay, and if as you say, she wrote these letters herself, then I will personally see to it that she gets her just deserts. I’d bet my reputation that she didn’t write these letters, someone else did.”

  “Forgive me for saying so, Lady Marmalade, but your reputation doesn’t mean anything to me,” said Colin.

  “It doesn’t have to. It is enough that I have been asked by the owner of this home to intervene on her behalf. If you don’t like it, you are free to leave until this incident
is over, and in fact I’d encourage you to do the same.”

  Frances looked at Colin for a while. He held her stare until he went back to chewing his nails. In the corner of her eye, Lady Marmalade saw Mollie put up her hand. She looked over to her and smiled.

  “Yes, Mollie.”

  “I have a roast in the oven, my Lady, if I may go and check on it.”

  “Please do, Mollie, I have finished what I needed to say.”

  Mollie looked at Frances much like a small child, smiling happily if stupidly, as she left.

  “Does anyone have any questions?”

  Nobody said anything for a while. Frances looked at Lula.

  “I’ll ask you to take especially good care of your grandmother tonight and tomorrow, if you don’t mind Lula.”

  Lula looked up at Frances, smiled, and nodded her head vigorously. Frances stood up and Alfred stood up with her.

  “I will be back tomorrow morning, just as soon as I’ve had a chance to visit with Scotland Yard. Please, be extremely vigilant tonight.”

  She looked at them all for a moment and as she turned to leave, she heard the clock strike six.

  SIXTEEN

  Chapter 16

  IT was eight in the evening when the noise began again. There had been twenty three nights without any bombs dropping from German planes. There had been more nights without the moaning sirens than with. That was a small mercy. But tonight wasn’t one of them.

  Frances and Alfred and Ginny made their way down to the basement bomb shelter. They took their time and brought snacks with them. They were all enjoying a little glass of port and Ginny had cut up some cheeses and crackers on a board that she was carrying down with her. Each holding steadily onto their glass of port. Alfred strangling the bottle of port in his free hand.

  They took their seats in the shelter, Frances sitting on the couch and Ginny on an armchair. Alfred sat back down on the other armchair next to Ginny after turning on the wireless. The two of them sat across from Lady Marmalade with a sturdy wooden table between them.

  Ginny had put the wooden board on the table. It contained small wedges of Gorgonzola, Roquefort and Stilton. Alfred put the bottle of port down next to it.

  “So glad you saved the port,” said Frances smiling.

  We have confirmation that a Luftwaffe squadron has been sighted coming across the Channel. Please, calmly but quickly, make your way to the nearest shelter to seek safety. We will keep you informed as details emerge...

  “Oh, bugger,” said Frances, listening to the announcer on the wireless. “I was hoping we might keep our record going.”

  “I have a good feeling that we might yet. Don’t discount our flyboys too quickly my Lady,” said Alfred.

  “I do hope you’re right, though everything comes to an end eventually. Even these delicious cheeses,” said Frances cutting off a small slice of Stilton, her favorite with port, and popping it into her mouth.

  “I hope you’re right, too,” said Ginny bending over the table and cutting a good chunk of Gorgonzola which she put on a cracker and ate half of.

  “I think tonight will be my witness,” said Alfred smiling. “Though I’ll not put a wager on it, as I’ve been wrong before. Twenty three nights without bombs is a good run. It means we’re winning.”

  “We are indeed. Of that I have no doubt,” said Frances. “But you know, you become accustomed to the bombings and the sirens, so much so, that I wonder what life will be like when all this nonsense is finished with.”

  Frances sat back into her couch and sipped on her port.

  “I think it’ll be quiet, my Lady,” said Alfred smiling.

  Frances and Ginny had a good laugh.

  “It certainly will be,” said Ginny. “Perhaps, too quiet.”

  “Oh, I don’t know, I’m looking forward to some peace and quiet again. These sirens are so bloody loud, one can hardly hear oneself think,” said Frances.

  “They are indeed, especially topside my Lady. But you have to admit that they’re barely an announce here in the basement.”

  Frances nodded and turned to the wireless.

  ...squadron is five minutes from London. Everyone should be safely in their shelters by now...

  “Hmm,” said Alfred. “It appears that they’re getting closer. I wonder if this might be a real one this time.”

  Frances took another sliver of Stilton and placed it on a cracker and bit half of it off.

  “It would seem so,” said Ginny, looking just a bit nervous.

  “No need to be nervous, my dear,” said Frances, looking at Ginny. “You know this shelter has withstood The Blitz and all that the Germans have been able to throw at her.”

  Frances sat calmly. Things of this nature didn’t normally ruffle her feathers. She had an almost fatalistic approach to life. When it was her time, it would be her time, but she didn’t worry about it. Not that she took undue risks. Indeed, a good part of what reassured her was the engineering and cost that Eric had spared no expense with when he had ordered this shelter built. She was sure it would survive a direct hit. Because he had assured her that it would.

  “You’re right, of course my Lady, but I just get a little nervous each time the bombs start to rain. And Marmalade Park has not yet taken a direct hit.”

  “That is true my dear, but I have every confidence that my late husband was right when he assured me that it would survive a direct hit. I am certain if that happens, we’ll barely feel it. Though I have a strong feeling that if this does turn out to be a real raid, that Marmalade Park will be spared once again, as she has this war, so far.”

  Ginny smiled, comforted by Lady Marmalade’s confidence.

  “I think we could all use a little more fortification for our spirits. Don’t you agree?”

  Alfred and Ginny nodded.

  “Would you do the honors please, Alfred.”

  “With pleasure, my Lady,” he said.

  Alfred took the bottle of port and freshened everyone’s glasses, starting with Lady Marmalade and ending with himself. He looked down at the board of cheese. Even from where he was seated he could smell them. They smelled like the wet socks of a World War one soldier who’s spent too much time in the wet trenches of Polygon Wood.

  Alfred leaned over and took a bit of the soft, crumbly, blue veined Roquefort and put it on a cracker. He put the whole thing in his mouth. He had a love-hate relationship with strong cheese. He loved the taste, the creamy, buttery first impression followed by the salty, tangy afterglow. But the smell, well, the smell kept him away from cheese more often than he would like.

  ...confirmed bombings started in South London. Brace yourselves ladies and gentleman...

  “And so it begins,” said Frances. She grabbed hold of the armrest on her side of the couch and waited. “It shouldn’t be long before we get a sense of where they’re coming in from.”

  Alfred put his port in his left hand and with his right he held Ginny’s left hand softly in his. He smiled at her. She smiled back, a brave smile that felt weak and trembled. She closed her eyes.

  You couldn’t hear the bombs this deep underground, their whining and whizzing was drowned out by the sirens, and the sirens sounded soft like a mosquito buzzing in close for a morsel. The first bomb took less than a minute before they felt it. Like a soft shake of the earth, as if a giant had fallen down outside and was struggling to get up.

  “That seemed closer than I would have liked,” said Frances, taking a sip of port and clutching the armchair with her left hand.

  Several more bombs landed and the vibration and thuds could be felt through the walls and through their feet on the floors. After several seconds, the bombs moved on farther north, not finding the mayhem they had hoped for at Marmalade Park. After just several minutes, everything had gone quiet and all that could be heard was the whining sirens, still blaring.

  ...stay where you are, safe in your shelters. We will let you know when it is safe to leave and head topside...

  “We
ll, that wasn’t too bad was it, Ginny?” said Frances.

  “No, not at all,” she said, as she released her hand from Alfred’s comforting grip and wiped the back of it across her forehead. She smiled nervously.

  “Just like I told you, Marmalade Park has been spared once again, by St. Marmalade.”

  “Is that even a real saint?” asked Ginny.

  “Good heavens, no, that’s Eric, up there looking out for us.”

  And they laughed, using up the nervous tension that the bombing raid had built up within them. And then they sat silently for a while, thinking of those long lost to them and those who had been lost during this terrible war.

  Frances could see Eric now, right here in this shelter with her. His arm around her waist as he grinned at her.

  “We’ll be safe as houses in here, my love, if we choose to stay. Though I think Avalon at Ambleside should be our safe haven if the Germans get nasty,”

  Frances smiled at him and kissed him on the cheek. He had always taken such good care of her. He had never had the chance to see how well this shelter had withstood the previous years of bombing. It would have made him proud, she was sure of that.

  “My Lady?” said Alfred.

  She came out of her reverie and looked over at Alfred and smiled at him.

  “I’m sorry, Alfred, did you say something?”

  “I was just asking if you were all right?”

  “Yes, thank you, I was just thinking of Eric,” she said.

  Alfred nodded solemnly.

  “I miss him, too, my Lady. He was a great man.”

  Ginny took another slice of cheese, this time she tried the Stilton with its green pockmarked face. She put it on a cracker and put it in her mouth. After she had finished chewing it she took a drink of port. Her glass had a third left and she was feeling the warmth from it in her belly.

  The recent bombs were now just a faint memory. Nothing shook through the walls and nothing could be felt through the floors, and yet the sirens still whined on in their sorrowful tone.

  It was another fifteen minutes, sitting deep within the bowels of the cold earth before the wireless announcers had confirmed it was safe. As usual they instructed everyone to keep away from any bombs and to call the local police or military to deal with any that might be undetonated or not.