Death on the Cliff Walk
Page 26
“Mr. Hoffman is a broker,” Brooke explained, lightly touching Matt’s hand; only the little line that had appeared between her eyes showed that she was annoyed. “He was at Aunt Winifred’s New Year’s Eve party.”
Now Matt remembered. That awful evening, when he and Brooke were so newly married, and the society of New York had stared at him as if he were an oddity. Hoffman, at least, had been friendly. “I remember, sir,” he said.
“Call me Julius,” Hoffman said, and winked again, this time at Matt, who blinked. “You remember my family. My wife, Adele.” Julius indicated the woman sitting next to him, a tall, regal beauty, her fair hair pulled back into a top knot that emphasized the clean, pure lines of her face. She nodded as she sipped from her crystal water glass, barely acknowledging the introduction. “My daughter, Julia.” Another fair-haired beauty, seated next to her mother, who also afforded Matt a scant nod. “And my son, Chauncey.” A sullen youth, next to his father.
“You’re traveling to Europe for pleasure, then,” Brooke said, laying aside the menu the waiter had handed her. Matt was still studying his, frowning a little. The menu was in French, and though in the last few months Matt had attended many society dinners, he still wasn’t sure what he would be eating. Consommé printanier to start with, some kind of soup, apparently, followed by trout done up in a fancy sauce. With the soup would be served an Amontillado sherry; to drink with the fish, a German riesling. For the entrees there were veal marengo, whatever that was, and ris de veau suprêmes. It took him a moment to figure out that the latter dish consisted of sweetbreads; queasily he wondered if Brooke would be embarrassed if he asked for good old American steak, or bifsteak, as it was likely to be called aboard the ship. With the entree there would be a rich red Bordeau; with the dessert, a chocolate soufflé, Dom Perignon. By the time this voyage was over, Matt thought, at last laying the menu onto his dinner plate, he would likely be both dyspeptic and a dipsomaniac.
“Business and pleasure,” Julius was saying, in answer to Brooke’s question. “Hoffman, Langdon and Company is looking to expand into Europe in the future. We’re thinking of opening a London office. You’ve met Richard Langdon, haven’t you? He’s at that table over there. The young man with him is my secretary, Gregory Tate.”
Beside him, Brooke turned to look at the man Julius indicated with a wave of his fork. “Who’s watching the business, then?” she said, smiling.
“It’s in good hands, Brooke. We’ve trained good people to run the firm while we’re gone. Actually, Richard was going to come by himself, but we have our own reasons for traveling. My daughter’s getting married. To the Earl of Lynton.”
“Yes, I saw the announcement.” Brooke picked up her own fork as the fish course was set before her, and smiled at Julia. “My best wishes for your happiness, Miss Hoffman.”
“Thank you,” Julia mumbled, her head bent, and Julius beamed at her past his wife.
“Only the best for my daughter, eh, puss?”
“Father, I’ve asked you not to call me by that terrible name.” Julia shot him a severe look. “And marrying Lynton isn’t my idea.”
“It is the best for you,” Adele proclaimed, apparently agreeing with her husband in this instance. “And to have the wedding at the earl’s estate is definitely a coup. You were married at your uncle’s house, were you not, Mrs. Devlin?”
Brooke looked at Matt, and smiled. “Yes, we were.”
“A small wedding, as I recall.”
Brooke kept her smile firmly in place, even as Adele’s eyes flicked over her, as if looking for some hidden secret. “Yes, very intimate and warm.” She laid her hand on Matt’s arm. “We’re on our honeymoon now.”
“Are you.”
“The police don’t mind letting you go, Devlin?” Julius said.
“They’ll manage without me,” Matt said, taking a sip of water to cover his feelings. Julius might be friendly, but he was sharp, and Adele, for some reason, was hostile. Against them, he and Brooke had banded together. He could feel it.
“Not what I hear,” Julius said, chuckling slightly. “I hear you’re expected to go places.”
“Oh?”
“Especially after the way you handled that mess in Newport last summer.”
Matt glanced at Brooke before answering. “That was a different situation.”
“Your father was a policeman, was he not?” Adele put in, looking straight at Brooke.
“He was,” Brooke answered quietly.
Under the table Matt squeezed her hand. “I think Brooke would have made a good cop herself,” he said, earning a startled glance from her and another blank look from Adele. What, he wondered, would it take to bring any emotion into those ice-blue eyes? And what must it be like to live with her?
“If more police looked like Mrs. Devlin, maybe I wouldn’t mind getting arrested,” Julius said, winking.
“Father,” Julia protested, leaning forward. “That’s a terrible thing to say. And you’re winking again.”
“Am I?” Hoffman looked blank, and then smiled, sheepishly. “Sorry. A habit of mine when I’m tense.”
“Oh, I’m not offended,” Brooke said quickly, still looking at Matt. “Do you really think I’d be a good policeman?”
“You’re stubborn enough,” he said, smiling to show it was a compliment.
“It’s a difficult job, Brooke, as you no doubt know,” Julius said. “I have nothing but respect for the police.”
“You’ve spoken out on corruption, haven’t you?” Matt asked quietly, suddenly remembering where else he’d heard Hoffman’s name, in discussions with other policemen, and with Nevesey.
“Yes, and I’m proud of it. A man must do his civic duty, and if that means exposing corruption among the police, then so be it.” He stabbed at the air with his fork. “But just because there are a few bad apples doesn’t mean the force isn’t solid. The police have a difficult job, always dealing with deceivers and crooks.”
“Mm-hm.” Matt nodded, unconvinced, noting with only half his attention the startled look Adele gave her husband. The last thing he wanted to discuss just now was corruption among the police, or to defend the indefensible.
“A man like yourself, for example,” Julius was saying, and Matt looked up, his face polite. “I followed the Newport thing from the beginning. When I read about the first maid getting killed on the Cliff Walk, and then the others, I knew there was something wrong. How many did he kill, altogether?”
“Five,” Matt said, his estimation of Hoffman rising. In Newport, few in society had cared about maids getting killed, until one of the victims turned out to be one of their own.
“A distasteful subject,” Adele said, her lips pursed. “Especially when someone from society was arrested. I find it hard to believe that he could do such things.”
“He confessed.” Brooke’s voice was quiet, her face serious, and Matt touched her hand. Neither of them would ever forget the day when Brooke had so nearly become a victim of the Cliff Walk killer herself. “Tell me, Miss Hoffman. Are you really getting married on the earl’s estate?” she asked, and the conversation at last went onto other channels.
Somewhat to Matt’s surprise, the dinner was pleasant. The food was superb, the wine excellent, and if the ship rolled a bit too much, causing china and crystal to shift on the fine linen tablecloths, that was one of the hazards of going to sea. Even the conversation was enjoyable, about the unseasonably warm weather, Julia Hoffman’s upcoming wedding, and the entertainments they could expect during the voyage, including tomorrow night’s play to be put on by some of the passengers, with Julius Hoffman in a leading role. Matt was greatly relieved, though, when it was at last over. For six days he would be obliged to be polite to polite society, but not, he hoped, every moment. This was, after all, his honeymoon, and his first holiday from work for years. Smiling at their dinner companions, he and Brooke left the grand saloon, where already the tables were being cleared and the oriel window had been opened for an or
gan recital. There’d be time enough to sample the ship’s entertainments another night.
The April night was brisk. At their suite Brooke threw a shawl about her shoulders, and they went out to the promenade deck, leaning on the railing and looking at the reflected lights of the ship in the sea, far below. The ship rolled in the swells, making Matt feel just a bit queasy after consuming such a big meal, but he ignored his stomach to concentrate on other things. The moon, for example, a sliver of pale light in the sky, and the stars, so much brighter here than ever they were on land. And the woman next to him, not caring if the wind ruffled her hair or gown. It was one of the things he liked about Brooke, that such things didn’t bother her. He put his arm about her shoulders, as if to keep her warm, and she smiled up at him.
The promenade deck was nearly deserted, few wishing to brave the cool night air when the delights of the grand saloon beckoned, but even so he led her across to the deck house and a sheltered alcove where they could have privacy. They were, after all, a couple on their honeymoon. They spent some pleasurable moments together, until sounds from farther along the deck intruded into their private world. A loud splash, a cry, the sound of running footsteps, and then the words that everyone at sea dreads to hear: “Man overboard!”
Mary Kruger is the author of the Gilded Age mystery series, and two knitting mysteries. As Mary Kingsley, she is also the author of many Regency and historical romances, including the RITA nominated The Rake’s Reward, and the Regency novella “The Runaway Duchess,” winner of the New Jersey Romance Writers’ Golden Leaf Award.
Mary never did hobnob with high society in Newport, but she hopes that you, the reader, can have those experiences through her books. A librarian, she lives in Massachusetts with her daughter. She enjoys reading, crafts, walking, and, of course, chocolate. She is currently at work on her next book.
Please email Mary at marykruger@verizon.net
Books by Mary Kruger
The Gilded Age Mystery Series
Death on the Cliff Walk
No Honeymoon for Death
Masterpiece of Murder
The Knitting Mysteries
Died in the Wool
Knit Fast, Die Young
Romances by Mary Kingsley
Sabrina
An Unsuitable Wife
(originally published as A Gentleman’s Desire)
The Rake’s Reward
A Summer Folly
An Inconvenient Affair
(originally published as An Intriguing Affair)
Scandal’s Lady
In a Pirate’s Arms
Rogue’s Charade
(originally published as Masquerade)
Beyond the Sea
An Angel’s Wish
Marrying Miss Bumblebroth
The Reluctant Hero
Gifts of the Heart
The Crystal Heart