Thyme for Murder

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by Bettie Jane


  “Nonsense,” Lucy said. “You are getting a hot meal delivered to your baby just as quick as you can. That makes a good mum as far as I can tell. Not that I’ve had any children of my own so I don’t suppose you should listen much to me, now should you?”

  Lucy laughed and Sarah joined in. “I will take you up on your offer to rest, if it still stands, but I’d like to speak to a few of the children first if that’s okay. There are some little ones that were quite terrified on the train ride here and I’d like to reassure them that I’ll be seeing them again tomorrow. Do you know where they will go?”

  “I don’t, but I’ll be sure and find out where they decide to place all of them. As for you, if you are comfortable here, I live upstairs and I have a spare room. You are welcome to it for as long as you remain in Kingsbridge, if you like.”

  Sarah’s chin quivered with emotion. “That would be lovely. I did not know what to expect and I certainly did not expect this sort of reception. Everyone in your town is quite lovely.”

  “Kingsbridge isn’t perfect and certainly some of our residents are rather stodgy, but for the most part it is a lovely little town. I quite like it here, which is why I set up my tea house here after the end of the Great War.”

  Sarah’s brows drew together in concern. “Miss Lucy, do you suppose this skirmish in Poland, the one that’s brought us here, do you suppose that it will turn into something as awful as the Great War?” She placed her hands protectively over her swollen belly as though trying to shield her unborn child from future atrocity.

  “I certainly hope not, but whatever happens, we have each other. Come, dear. Let’s get you to a bed, vis-à-vis the children, of course.”

  Lucy watched in admiration while Sarah went round to most all of the children, certainly all of the younger ones, and whispered in their ear and gave them each a warm hug. Lucy overheard her speaking to one of the older children.

  “Maryam, I’ll be finding where you and your brother are staying tomorrow. Miss Lucy here assured me she’d help me. I think I’ll be staying here so if you need me, I’m above the tea house. You’ll know where to find me.”

  The little girl, not more than eight, squared her shoulders, clung to her gas mask and said in small voice that was trying to be bigger, “Don’t you worry, Miss Sarah. I’ll take care of Ruthbert and you take care of your baby. I’ll find you tomorrow.”

  Sarah walked away to speak to another child and Lucy saw Maryam’s eyes well up for only the briefest of moments. One tear escaped, but Maryam was quick to catch it before the little boy sitting at the table noticed. The little girl in the ragged dress and tangled hair turned her attention to her equally disheveled little brother.

  “Don’t you worry, Ruthbert. I told Mother I’d watch out for you and Miss Sarah is watching out for me. Together, we’ll help her watch out for her baby, all right?”

  The little boy nodded, though Lucy wasn’t entirely sure that he knew what he was nodding about. In that moment, Lucy felt such a swell of affection for little Ruthbert and Maryam and Sarah and all the other displaced people in her teahouse. She wanted nothing more than to tuck every one of these children in a cozy bed. After a bath of course. They were all a bit filthy from travel and what had likely been a very upsetting morning.

  She knelt down at the table in front of Ruthbert and Maryam.

  “You are friends of Miss Sarah?”

  Maryam nodded. Ruthbert didn’t speak or make any other indication that he’d heard her. Lucy continued to direct her conversation at both children.

  “My name is Lucy Brooks and this is my tea shop. Have you had any food to eat yet since you got here?”

  “Oh yes, Miss Lucy. It was delicious. My mother told me to be very grateful and mind my manners and I’m teaching Ruthbert to do the same. Ruthbert, tell Miss Lucy how much you enjoyed your supper.” Her tiny voice was dripping with polite etiquette for such a small girl. Lucy imagined her parents would be quite proud.

  “Thank you,” was all Ruthbert managed to croak out and his eyes were wet as though he were about to lose hold over his tender emotions.

  If Lucy had been angry at the Germans, specifically their brutal leader, earlier today for what they’d done to the citizens of Poland, she was beyond furious to see the fear in these little children’s eyes for no good reason beyond the greed of a hateful man and his followers.

  “If you are done with your supper, I’d like to show you something then. I just need to speak with someone and I’ll be right back. Would that be all right with the both of you?”

  “Yes, Miss Lucy. It would be wonderful.”

  Lucy found the mayor, who had arrived by now, and got his attention.

  “Sir, if you don’t mind, I’d like to volunteer to host Sarah.” She pointed in the direction of her new friend. “I have a spare room upstairs where she can stay.”

  He followed her eyes to see who she was talking about. “Yes, that would be most generous of you, Lucy.”

  “Wonderful. I’d also like to borrow, just for a moment if you have no objections, those two children right there.” She pointed at Maryam and Ruthbert. “The little girl and the boy, I believe it is her little brother. I want to introduce them to Mr. Winnington. I think they could use bit of cheer for a moment. I promise to have them back in a moment.”

  “Yes, yes. That’s fine. I think Mrs. Taylor is going to take them, but she went home to prepare a bed for them so you have a few minutes.”

  “Wonderful, thank you. And thank you, Mayor, for being so kind to these children. I can’t imagine how difficult this is for them.”

  Mayor Higgins nodded and Lucy went back to Maryam and Ruthbert.

  “I don’t suppose the two of you would be interested in meeting my friend, Mr. Winnington, would you? She is a she, even though she has Mr. in her name and she is the most adorable Persian cat you may ever see.”

  Both their faces lit up and they jumped up from their seats. “Oh, yes, please. We wanted to bring our kitten with us but Mother said we couldn’t bring him on the train.”

  “You know, I would guess that your mother misses you both terribly and is snuggling your kitten very tightly. Until it’s time for you to return to your own, you can visit Mr. Winnington anytime.”

  Lucy motioned for Sarah to follow them and they all followed Lucy up the stairs.

  The children immediately saw Mr. Winnington, who was curled in a pillow on the hearth in the parlor. They sat down and took to the cat right away and it looked to be a mutual interest because Mr. Winnington purred and climbed into little Ruthbert’s lap and let Maryam pet her.

  “Children, I’m just going to show Miss Sarah to her room. Enjoy the cat and I will return in a few minutes.”

  They barely noticed she was talking so she led Sarah to her room. “The mayor said they are having everyone’s cases delivered to them once they’ve been assigned a residence, so as soon as yours are here, I’ll bring them up to you. For now, why don’t catch a nap while you can. I’ll be back to check on you in a couple hours, once the others are all situated.

  Lucy returned to the parlor just in time to see Ruthbert chasing Mr. Winnington down the stairs with Maryam on his heels. Lucy followed them though they had a head start and much quicker legs and saw a flash of Maryam’s dress round the corner toward the private rooms and away from the main seating area.

  By the time Lucy reached the bottom of the stairs, the children and Mr. Winnington were nowhere to be seen. All three doors to the private rooms were closed, but the door that led out to the garden was open. Mr. Winnington did love to spend lazy afternoons in patches of afternoon sun whenever she got the opportunity and certainly would have avoided the room full of noisy children in the other direction.

  She walked down the corridor, noting that there was muffled yelling coming from the room she’d hired out to Pennington. Nothing terribly out of hand, it seemed, but loud enough that she noticed. The commotion died down quickly though and Lucy continued her journey to the g
arden to track down the children. Mr. Winnington could, of course, fend for herself, but she’d promised the mayor she’d return the children so it wouldn’t be good form to have lost them already.

  “Lucy,” Janey called from the dining area. “Where do you keep the back supply of tea? We seem to be out of the black.”

  Lucy looked toward the door to the garden, then back at Janey and decided the children would be okay in the garden for a few moments while she helped Janey.

  “If we have more,” Lucy said, making her way toward Janey, “it would be back here.”

  Janey followed Lucy into a small storage closet and rifled through a few metal tins before pulling out the right one.

  “Here you are, Janey. Thank you again for your willing spirit. We couldn’t do this without you.”

  She made her way back down the hall towards the garden, noticing the silence in Mr. Pennington’s room. “Good, the children have been through enough,” Lucy thought to herself, grateful she wasn’t going to have to interrupt the odd trio of men.

  Before she reached the door, the children ran back in. They were breathless and red-cheeked. There was no sign of Mr. Winnington.

  Maryam’s face was pinched with worry and Ruthbert had tears in his eyes.

  “Did the cat get away from you? Don’t worry, she tends to be mischievous.”

  “We are so sorry, Miss Lucy. We didn’t mean to lose your kitty.” Maryam’s voice trembled with apparent fear and Ruthbert hid his face in Maryam’s skirts. Maryam, continuing to apologize profusely, didn’t make eye contact with Lucy.

  Strange, Lucy thought. Perhaps their parents are very strict about such things.

  “Don’t think another thought about it. I should have closed the door to the steps. I know better than to leave an escape route for Mr. Winnington. She’ll be back, though, don’t you worry. Did you like the garden? Perhaps one of these days, you can come over and pick some fresh vegetables for your host family.”

  Silence met her so she decided to let it go for now.

  “The mayor told me that you two would be staying with the Taylor family. They are quite wonderful people. Why don’t we see if they have come for you yet? I’m sure Mrs. Taylor will bring you back anytime you like to visit Mr. Winnington so you can see for yourself that she really is just fine, besides being a bit naughty and scaring the two of you.”

  Maryam seemed to remember her extraordinary manners. “Yes, that would be quite nice, Miss Lucy. We are very sorry about Mr. Winnington.”

  “Nonsense. The only one who should be sorry is Mr. Winnington. Perhaps she should get less cream in her dish this evening.” Lucy winked at them, hoping to convey her sense of humor and assure them that everything was fine. Ruthbert was still hiding his face in his sister’s skirts and Maryam still looked shaken too. More than would be quite normal, but she supposed that there was nothing quite normal about this particular situation.

  They turned and made their way down the corridor and back to the main dining area when two of the men who’d been privated away opened the door and rushed out of the room. Mr. Pennington saw Lucy, pulled money from his pocket and held it out to her.

  “We are finished with the room now. Thank you. This should cover our expenses.”

  “Mr. Pennington, you already paid me. Have a lovely evening and I hope to see you back here again the next time you are in town. Where is your third companion?”

  “He left.”

  He insisted on giving her the money and pushed it into her hand. “For any clean up that you may need to do..”

  Confused, but not having the time or inclination to argue with him, she took the money and thanked him for his business. He turned to walk away with the other man on his heels and stopped suddenly when he saw the commotion in the main dining area of the shop.

  “What is going on here? What are all these children doing here?”

  “Evacuees from Bristol, in response to the German attack on Poland. I fear we might be going to war, Mr. Pennington.”

  He grunted, “I don’t believe we need to worry about the germans. We will stop them, most certainly,” and then walked out of the shop without another word.

  What a strange group of fellows. Though it fit with what had turned out to be a rather strange day for all involved.

  5

  Janey, Lizbet, and Lucy sat at a table in the now quiet shop. The children had been fed until they were bursting and one by one or in sibling groups were sent to settle in with their host families. The three women had worked together for over ninety minutes and now it was nearing four o’clock. The bell over the door, which had finally gone silent, now announced the arrival of Mr. Jensen, startling Lucy out of her reverie.

  She stood to greet the last customer of the day. “Oh, hello, Thomas. I almost forgot you were coming back for Mrs. Jenson’s herbs. I’ll just run out to the garden and be right back. Why don’t you keep Janey and Lizbet company. It’s a rough day for all of Britain, I do believe. I’ll be back in just a moment.” She got him a fresh cup. “Here’s a cup and a pot of Earl Gray for you to enjoy. The water is still hot,” she said, indicating the teapot on the table.

  “A cup of tea sounds wonderful and the company even better.”

  “I’m sorry I cannot stay,” Lizbet said, rising, “but I promised Mr. Harrison I’d be home to make his supper.”

  Lucy smiled warmly, not forgetting her original intention of helping Lizbet. “I think there is still some pot pie in the kitchen. Take that home and warm it for him. It will save you a bit of effort.”

  “Thanks, Lucy,” Lizbet said and made her way back to the kitchen.

  Lucy set Mr. Jenson’s cup on the table across from Janey and went out to the garden. She wasn’t certain but felt relatively confident that she had just the herbal remedy that would help Mary’s headaches. As she traversed her massive garden, one area where she allowed herself to splurge since it brought the community such a wealth of fresh herbs and produce, she looked over the plants. The zucchini and the green beans were perfectly ripe, as was the squash and the tomatoes. She made a note to plan tomorrow’s recipes based on her supply and then rounded the corner to her little greenhouse where she grew a variety of herbs. The gratitude and peace she felt here in her garden lifted her spirits after the busy but gratifying afternoon.

  The greenhouse had a lavender-painted door that was atypically ajar. She was careful to close the door behind her to keep the critters out of her herbs. As prolific as mint and some of the other herbs grew, she still didn’t need to feed the neighborhood rodents. Sister Therese must have left the door ajar when she’d been out here earlier in the day. Strange, though, Lucy thought, because none of the items she’d asked for were anywhere near the greenhouse. In fact, they were in the opposite section of the garden. Perhaps Maryam and Ruthbert ran in here looking for Mr. Winnington.

  Frowning with worry over her herbs, she walked inside the greenhouse to find the peppermint and the ginger for Mrs. Jenson and to verify that her precious herbs weren’t damaged. Her plants all looked to be in good shape, save one toward the end of the row that had been knocked over.

  As she walked closer she could see that it was one of her thyme plants. It was tipped over, but there didn’t appear to be any significant damage. She righted the plant and then bent down to pick up the loose soil that spilled and found much more than dirt hiding under the table.

  There, under the table of herbs, hidden behind rows and rows of potted plants was a very still and quite dead gentleman that Lucy was shocked to recognize. Sitting atop his well-dressed chest was a bundle of tied thyme. It was one of the bundles she’d picked and hung to dry a few days prior. It lay on his chest the way a bouquet would rest on a body about to be buried.

  She hit her head in her scramble to get away from the deceased fellow and scurried away on her hands and knees, now with a throbbing headache. Her own instant headache reminded her that she’d come out here for Mrs. Jenson, but the dead man in her greenhouse adorned w
ith thyme pressed its way forward into her mind’s priorities.

  Without another thought, she raced back into her shop, calling for Mr. Jenson, Lizbet and Janey as she ran.

  6

  Lucy’s head was pounding and her mind felt like she was moving through molasses. Even still, her legs were carrying her back to the front of the teahouse where Janey and Mr. Jenson were still sitting and sipping their tea.

  “Call the police, Janey. And call for the doctor.”

  “What? What are you talking about, Lucy?”

  “Geoffrey Harrison is in my greenhouse and I’m afraid he is quite dead.”

  Janey gasped, as one would at hearing such news, and Mr. Jenson ran outside to the garden. Janey followed him out.

  “Nevermind then, I guess I’ll ring for the doctor and then the police.”

  She picked up the telephone and dialed with shaking hands. “Ella, it’s Lucy. Is your husband home?”

  “Why, hello, Lucy. How wonderful to hear from you. Yes, he’s home. And I’ve been meaning to have you over for—”

  “Ella, please. It’s an emergency. Send him to the teahouse, would you? Thank you.”

  Lucy hung up and immediately dialed the police. “Send Detective Brighton,” she said to the person on the other end, “to Thyme for Tea on Derby Road. Someone’s been murdered.”

  Again, Lucy hung up without waiting for confirmation. She ran back out to through the greenhouse and into the garden and found Mr. Jenson and Lucy in the greenhouse staring down at Geoffrey Harrison.

  “What do you think happened?” Janey asked, looking between Mr. Jenson and Lucy.

  Now that Lucy felt her wits returning, she looked around to take in the scene. Geoffrey was dressed sharply, as though headed to a black-tie event, which was odd given the time of day. It wasn’t even quite supper time and as far as Lucy knew there were no formal events occurring anywhere in Kingsbridge that evening.

 

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