House Party Murder Rap: 1920s Historical Cozy Mystery (An Evie Parker Mystery)

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House Party Murder Rap: 1920s Historical Cozy Mystery (An Evie Parker Mystery) Page 9

by Sonia Parin


  “I’m afraid I’m not at liberty to divulge any details,” Charles informed them. “The Sergeant wishes to receive personal perspectives and would prefer it if the information remained undiluted. You should all relax. He only had a few questions. Nothing too arduous.”

  After a moment’s silence, the Dowager said, “May I be permitted to continue.”

  “By all means, mama. You have our full attention.”

  The Dowager gave a firm nod and continued her tale. “As I was saying, Miss Wainscot came close to losing her life.” The Dowager paused for effect. “It appears Miss Wainscot had been lured by Evangeline Parker to Marceline’s Salon de Beaute.” Another pause followed. Then, the Dowager’s voice lowered and filled with intrigue as she asked, “What do you all think of that?”

  “Preposterous,” Bicky thundered.

  The room fell silent and everyone looked toward Evie.

  Evie smiled as she remembered Bicky had been confined to his room at the time. “Actually, Bicky, the Duchess is quite correct… sort of. I did invite Miss Wainscot to take advantage of an appointment I had made at Marceline’s Salon de Beaute.” Evie made a point of lifting her chin. “But, I wish to be perfectly clear about this. I did not lure her.”

  “There, mama. Are you quite satisfied?” Bicky asked.

  The Dowager looked confused. “It’s not me she has to convince, but rather the authorities, the judge and the jury.”

  “Nonsense,” Bicky said. “I’m sure this is nothing but a misunderstanding.”

  “Is it? But you have yet to hear the rest of the evidence against Evangeline Parker.” The Dowager drew in a breath. “Upon subjecting herself to the beauty treatment, poor Miss Wainscot remained ignorant of what would happen next.” The Dowager gave a sorrowful sigh. “Such a bright and beautiful girl in her full bloom, nipped in the bud by the nefarious machinations of a devious woman intent on clearing all obstacles from her path to her second matrimonial conquest.”

  Tom looked at Evie and murmured, “Is that so?”

  “Not you too,” Evie murmured back.

  Tom grinned. “Haven’t you heard? Majority rules and mob mentality prevails over all truth.”

  “If you are quite finished Mr. Winchester,” the Dowager said, “I would like to resume my account of this creature’s wicked assault on one of our own.”

  At this point, Evie couldn’t tell if the Dowager wanted to have fun at her expense or if she really meant what she said.

  “Miss Wainscot now lies in the throes of agony, trying to overcome the damage caused to her by the products used on her delicate complexion. The girl has been disfigured by an attack of hives. All her prospects have been dashed. She is now a monster and will, most likely and forever more, live in the shadows of what might have been.”

  “Mama, I am sure you exaggerate,” Bicky said. “Perhaps Miss Wainscot suffered a reaction.”

  “Yes. She did indeed suffer a reaction.” The Dowager’s voice hitched. “To poison.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  To the Gallows

  Evie swayed.

  If Tom hadn’t taken hold of her arm, she might have toppled over.

  Poisoned?

  Surely the Dowager had to be exaggerating. She had a great fondness for taking center stage and commanding an audience with her accounts. Usually, her stories revolved around the peculiarities of village life. Mostly, they were intended as a way to amuse.

  “You should sit down,” Tom suggested.

  “Why do I get the feeling the plot has just thickened?” Looking up at Tom, she tried to anchor herself to the steadiness she saw in his eyes.

  “It could be nothing more than coincidence,” he said. “Or, perhaps Miss Wainscot did suffer a reaction.”

  “That can’t be possible.” Evie shook her head. “Marceline’s Salon de Beaute provides an excellent service. They might be located in a small village, but they are part of a larger beauty product enterprise.” Evie held her hand to her chest. “Do you think I might have been the intended target?” She didn’t wait for him to answer. “Again? How could that be?”

  Tom murmured, “We don’t know that.”

  Evie turned and went to stand by the window; her hopes pinned on finding inspiration and clarity. She sensed Tom coming to stand beside her.

  “When you asked me to wait for you by the village green, I saw a woman coming out of the store,” Tom said. “She crossed the street but I noticed she kept glancing toward the store.”

  “Yes. Lotte Browning.” Evie’s heart gave a distinct thump of alarm. “I’m sure she heard me making the appointment.” She gave him a brief rundown of everything she knew about Lotte Browning. “She’s only a gossip. No harm done.”

  “Is that what you want to think or what you believe to be true?” Tom asked. “Push a person hard enough, and you’ll be surprised what they can do.”

  Evie gave a pensive nod. “Lotte Browning has aspirations, if not for herself, then for her children. She’d never put that at risk. Think of the scandal such a devious action would cause. She’d never survive it. No, I don’t really believe she had anything to do with this. Besides, what would she have done? Tampered with the product? How?” Although, she knew someone must have, Evie thought. But not Lotte Browning. “If I’m to suspect her of anything, it would have to be of sharing the information with someone who might then have taken steps to intervene.”

  Tom’s eyebrows hitched up. “I think we might be going about this all wrong.”

  “What do you suggest we do?” Evie asked.

  “We might need to sit down and make a list of all your enemies, including anyone who might harbor resentments.” Tom brushed his hand across his chin. “What about the staff at the store?”

  “Anna. I trust her implicitly. She’s a wonderful girl. I can’t imagine she would have any reason to cause me harm.”

  “Anyone else?” Tom asked.

  “I can’t say for sure. I assumed she would be the one in charge of giving treatments, but perhaps they have another employee.” Evie shook her head. “So, until I can talk to her, there is simply no point in jumping to conclusions.”

  Tom handed her a cup of tea.

  Evie smiled. “You’re getting the hang of it.” Evie took a sip and decided to wait until they had more detailed information to go on with. “For the time being, I wish to believe this is nothing more than an unfortunate coincidence.”

  “Yes,” Tom agree, “I’m thinking the same.” Looking around the room, Tom mused, “Lady Charlotte seems to have a lot to say. She’s been with the Sergeant longer than any of the others.”

  “It’s not surprising,” Evie remarked. “You know Charlotte’s thoughts often meander. She actually possesses a fount of knowledge. Unfortunately, she doesn’t always use it for good.”

  “Larkin,” the Dowager said, “I should very much like a cup of tea now, please.”

  “Certainly, Your Grace.”

  “And bring a chair here please. I’d like to remain close to the door.”

  Tom chuckled and whispered, “It seems the Dowager is intent on making sure you do not make your escape.”

  Finally, Lady Charlotte returned, her cheeks slightly flushed. She resumed her seat next to her husband and, casting a furtive glance at Evie, she sighed.

  Evie whispered, “I hope I’m not reading too much into it, but I get the impression Charlotte means to apologize to me.”

  “Whatever for?” Tom asked.

  “I’m not sure yet. I guess I’ll soon find out.”

  Larkin announced, “The Sergeant will now speak with the Countess of Woodridge.”

  Tom winked at her. “You’re up.”

  ***

  The Sergeant began by apologizing, “Lady Woodridge, this can’t be easy for you.”

  “I’m not the one with a wounded arm,” Evie said. “I should like to help in any way I can. What would you like to know?”

  “You could start by describing the moment immediately preceding
the attempt on His Grace’s life.”

  Evie recounted those few seconds. When she finished, she shifted to the edge of her seat thinking the Sergeant would thank her and move onto the next person.

  She could not have been more wrong.

  The Sergeant cleared his throat and asked. “Did you guide His Grace toward the window?”

  Meaning what? “No, I… I had been seated next to Lady Charlotte.” Evie gestured to the group of chairs behind her.

  “And you then joined His Grace by the window.”

  “That’s correct.”

  “What prompted you to move away at the precise moment you did?”

  Evie’s eyebrows drew down. “I didn’t… Not exactly. I only turned to set down my teacup.”

  “Why did you do that? Had you actually finished your tea?”

  “Well, no…”

  The Sergeant held her gaze for a moment, his intention not quite clear to Evie. Although, she suspected he wanted to build anticipation and… suspense.

  Finally, he asked, “So, why did you set your teacup down at the precise moment when a shot was fired at the Duke?”

  “I had no control over the timing.”

  Her remark prompted the Sergeant to draw his eyebrows down.

  Evie lifted her chin. “I set the teacup down because I had something to say to the Duke and I felt I needed to focus on the task.”

  “You felt holding the teacup would distract you?” he asked.

  Evie gave a reluctant nod.

  “Interesting,” the Sergeant mused. He flipped through a few pages and then tapped his notebook. “Someone mentioned you had been glancing around you and that you looked slightly on edge.” He checked his notebook. “In fact, you were described as looking rather anxious.”

  Evie bit the edge of her lip. She had been trying to determine how she could break the news to Bicky without alarming him too much or calling into question his absolute authority over his lands. Landowners took their responsibilities seriously and any mishaps on their property would be deemed a failure to take care of their own.

  “I had been trying to break some news to His Grace and I didn’t want anyone overhearing me.”

  “Is this something you can share with me?” the Sergeant asked.

  “Yes, of course.” Her chin lifted. “I have nothing to hide.”

  “Yet, you didn’t want others to overhear you.”

  Evie jumped to her own defense. “Only because I didn’t wish to alarm them. This is a house party and I feared the news might cast a shadow over the weekend.” Drawing in a breath, Evie told the Sergeant about the incident on the road.

  “When exactly were you going to report this to the authorities?”

  “I shared the information with His Grace knowing he would then take the next step in deciding how best to proceed.” Evie knew titled landowners carried a great deal of weight in such matters.

  “But that didn’t happen because he was then shot,” the Sergeant mused.

  “Well, as a matter of fact, I didn’t get the chance to tell him until much later.”

  The Sergeant straightened. “Is there anyone else who can collaborate your story?”

  “Story? Which story?”

  “About the incident on the road,” the Sergeant explained.

  Evie straightened. “Isn’t my word enough?”

  “I only wish to get the facts straight,” he said. “You were out on the road. Does that mean you were driving yourself?”

  Evie tried to come up with a way to redirect the Sergeant’s line of questioning. For the first time, she appreciated Lady Charlotte’s talents. Some people had powers of persuasion, she excelled at digressing; deviating from the main conversation, sometimes losing the thread, deliberately or accidentally getting sidetracked and straying toward other subjects which may or may not have any relevancy to the main topic of conversation.

  Having done a thorough job of distracting herself, Evie asked, “I’m sorry, what was the question again?”

  “Were you driving yourself?” the Sergeant repeated.

  “If I tell you, you’ll have to promise to keep the information to yourself.”

  The Sergeant’s eyebrows rose with interest. “Is this another secret?”

  “Not exactly. However, it’s not something I wish to share with everyone.”

  After a few moments, he nodded.

  “My chauffeur’s name is Tom.”

  The Sergeant scanned a list which Evie assumed contained the names of all the guests and quite possibly the household staff.

  “And how might I contact him?”

  “Is it absolutely necessary?” Evie asked. “He saw exactly what I saw.”

  “Perhaps, but we won’t know for sure unless I speak with him.”

  Evie drew in a breath. “Tom Winchester...” Evie gestured to the Sergeant’s list.

  Acting on the prompt, the Sergeant’s eyes dropped to his list. “I seem to have a Mr. Tom Winchester listed as a guest.”

  “That’s correct.”

  The Sergeant sat up. His lips parted slightly. Drawing in a deep breath, he asked, “Your chauffeur shares the same name as one of the guests?”

  Evie chortled. “That would be too much of a coincidence and quite unlikely.”

  “Are you saying your chauffeur…” He tapped his notebook, “Tom Winchester is also Mr. Tom Winchester, a guest at the Duke of Hetherington’s house party?”

  “It’s rather a long story,” Evie said.

  The Sergeant settled back in his chair as if to suggest he had all the time in the world to hear it.

  ***

  Evie emerged from the blue drawing room and pressed her hands to her cheeks. They felt hot to the touch. Looking up, she saw Tom approaching.

  “I guess it’s my turn,” he said.

  She couldn’t escape the feeling of having betrayed their mutual cause. She couldn’t keep the information to herself. Tom had to know. Evie whispered, “I had to tell him—” She heard the Sergeant clearing his throat.

  Tom gave her a brisk smile. “This should be interesting.”

  Urged by the Sergeant, Tom strode into the blue drawing room. For a moment, Evie felt tempted to press her ear to the door, but then Larkin cleared his throat.

  “It seems there is something going around. I hope it’s not too serious or contagious, Larkin,” Evie remarked as she strode past him and entered the library.

  The Dowager spoke first, “I see. You remain a free woman.”

  Evie smiled at her. “According to the law, I am innocent until proven guilty.”

  The Dowager gave an unladylike snort. “One would think there is already sufficient evidence for you to be incarcerated.”

  To Evie’s relief, the Dowager then winked at her.

  Sinking into a chair, Evie tried to convince herself everything would work out. The police knew what they were doing and now they had a clearer picture of the events that had taken place.

  “I hope the Sergeant recovered,” Charlotte murmured.

  “What do you mean?” Evie asked.

  Charlotte lifted one eyebrow. “Well, as I related my tale, I had to prompt him several times because he appeared to look confused. It seems some people are ill equipped to follow a conversation.”

  The Dowager scoffed. “My dear, if you meandered along the way you usually do, then I’m not surprised at the Sergeant’s confusion. You do tend to prattle on.” The Dowager looked at Evie. “Did you manage to untangle him from his confusion?”

  Up to a point, Evie thought. The news about Tom being both her chauffeur and a guest seemed to derail the Sergeant somewhat.

  “He had no trouble understanding me.” Evie turned to Charlotte. “By the way, what on earth did you tell him about me? He seemed to think I had set Bicky up to take the shot.”

  “And, did you?” the Dowager demanded.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Hot on the trail

  A walk and a breath of fresh air went a long way toward r
estoring Evie’s optimism. The authorities would get to the bottom of this… whatever this was.

  Hearing her name called out, she turned to see Tom striding toward her. Evie watched him, taking the sight of him in. Her breath stalled for a moment until she gave a brisk shake of her head and snapped herself out of the stupor.

  “You disappeared.” His face looked rather stern.

  When he reached her, Evie noticed him looking at her as if he were making sure not a hair on her had been…

  What?

  Harmed?

  “I needed to clear my head. Meaning, I couldn’t stand to listen to another word, so I stepped out for a moment.”

  Tom appeared to relax, but his expression remained serious. “Next time, you might want to let me know.”

  “Why? Did you come close to raising the alarm?”

  “I wouldn’t joke about it.” As he spoke, he looked around.

  Evie smiled. “I think you’ll find only birds, rabbits and foxes are out and about today.”

  He didn’t appear to appreciate the remark. His attention remained on their surroundings. Had he only come out to perform his bodyguard duties? She’d been enjoying their easy-going exchanges and, while she knew most people would find it inappropriate, she wanted to think they could continue on this path.

  “Tell me about your interview with the Sergeant. Did it go well?” she asked.

  Tom nodded. “I found it quite straightforward. He seemed to be eager to stick to facts and somewhat relieved when I complied.”

  Evie shrugged. “That would have been easy enough to do if his questions required yes or no answers.”

  He studied her for a moment. “You seem to speak your mind. Did you do that at your interview?”

  “I might have but only because the Sergeant seemed intent on reaching conclusions about me. Sometimes, it’s best to get everything out into the open.” She lifted her chin a notch. “So, were you at all helpful?”

  “He will look into the incident on the road. But he wouldn’t say if the two were related.”

 

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