The Merryweathers jived like professionals and GJ and Catherine sat to one side of the dance floor whispering to each other and smiling. Outside, the snow had settled although he was relieved to see that it hadn’t fallen as heavily here. People would, at least, be able to go home.
He caught himself listening to Mandy Billings.
‘He’ll come a-flying from a higher place,
and fill the stocking by the fireplace.’
My word, she is good; and strikingly attractive, he thought. Carlo seemed to like her too, glancing across and giving her the occasional nod of encouragement. What were he and Olivia arguing about earlier? Did Mandy Billings poison Olivia to gain her place in the spotlight?
Juliet Brooks-Hunter waved and he returned it with a playful salute. He really wanted to sit down and have a chat with her and the rest of the wedding guests. He’d managed to do that during the reception but, since Olivia’s illness, he hadn’t had a chance. Fortunately, Juliet had booked in for a few days so that GJ and Catherine could use her house in Cornwall for their honeymoon. He checked his watch. George had entrusted him with digging deeper and that’s what he must do. He grabbed a flute of champagne from a passing waitress.
‘Do you want a hand?’ said Harry.
‘I didn’t think you wanted a mystery.’
‘I didn’t think I did but it’s intriguing, isn’t it?’
James grinned and steered him toward a table. ‘Let’s start with young Enid Carmichael.’
CHAPTER SIX
James and Harry drew up their chairs to join Enid.
‘I don’t really know her that well,’ said Enid staring at her nails. ‘I trained to be a hairdresser; sort of fell into this position. In the right place at the right time, that’s what people say, isn’t it?’
James put Enid in her early twenties, with shoulder-length brown hair, hazel eyes and a homely expression. She was someone you’d easily pass in a crowd without noticing and he felt that she probably believed that herself. She wore a navy blue shift dress and a minimal amount of make-up. He let Harry lead the questioning as Enid appeared attracted to him.
‘I’ll bet it’s a treat working for her, isn’t it? All those famous people you mix with? The concerts?’
Enid gave an uninterested shrug. ‘I’m leaving soon.’ She shot them a look. ‘I haven’t told her so don’t go saying anything.’
James detected an element of alarm. If Olivia were to discover her intentions, he felt Enid would receive the brunt of the singer’s rage. ‘Do you really not enjoy it?’
She made a face. ‘I can’t stand her. She’s too full of herself and has absolutely no consideration for anyone else. Can’t even fill her own wine glass up; fawning all over Carlo and getting him to bow to her every whim.’
‘Did Carlo serve the wine?’ said Harry.
‘We all did; even the men from the Pals. All that drama at the table earlier was typical of her. We’d started listening to those lovely men and how they fought in the war together. They were so interesting to listen to but, of course, no one was paying her any attention so off she goes, having a fit.’
Harry started. ‘Oh but she was ̶_’
James stopped his son from contradicting her. ‘Does she do that a lot, Enid?’
‘She’ll always have a reason for getting attention if that’s what you mean. I must admit this one really was good. She should take up acting, she’d get an Oscar.’
‘Where will you go,’ asked Harry. ‘When you leave her employ?’
‘My family live in Devon and I miss them and that part of the world. I’m setting up my own hairdressing business back in the village where I was born. Me and Mandy get on well but now her mum’s gone she’ll probably want to make something of herself.’
‘Did she lose her mum recently?’
‘A couple of weeks ago. I was with her last week helping her clear the house out. Right state it is. Looks like her mum kept everything she could lay her hands on. You should see the amount of rubbish she had. Old Victorian bottles and ornaments.’
‘That must have taken up some space.’
‘Yeah, I’d imagine so. Used to go to junk shops and markets. Some of ’em are really old.’
James added that they could be valuable, to which Enid explained that Mandy just wanted rid of them.
‘Understandable,’ he said, pleased that they didn’t have such clutter in their house.
‘But, like I say, if I’ve got to work with Olivia, then it really isn’t worth it. One hair out of place and you’d think I’d killed her.’ She sipped her cocktail. ‘I’m walking out with a lovely man called Derek and he’s proposed.’
James and Harry congratulated her.
‘He comes from Torquay and works for a merchant bank. But he said he’d come back to Devon and work in one of the local banks or even do something different. We prefer it down there. We’re not really city people.’
James empathised with her and agreed that he loved the sense of community in a village. ‘Did you see anything happen before Olivia became ill?’
Enid’s apathetic shake of the head answered his question. ‘Like I say, I was chatting to the old men. My father fought in the Great War and was with the Sussex Regiment. He was in the regular army though, not the Pals. He doesn’t talk about it much. I suppose most of them don’t, do they?’
James left Harry to continue the conversation. He didn’t like to be scathing about his guests but Enid Carmichael was a bit of a wet weekend and he could quite understand why she wouldn’t like working for Olivia. He could imagine the diva tormenting Enid over the least little thing. But, to be fair to Enid, she clearly intended to walk out and leave her employer without an immediate replacement. That took some degree of spirit.
Carlo stepped up to the microphone. ‘Ladies and gentleman. Issa time for my boys to ’ave a last break. We’ll be right back for the last ’alf-an-hour in a few minutes.’
James picked up a cocktail from Adam and threaded his way through the crowd to speak with the bandleader. Carlo was a striking figure with classic Italian features, an olive complexion and seductive smile. The guests loved him and he made a point of spending time with them as they asked for autographs and enquired as to whether Olivia Dupree would be singing.
‘Olivia? I’m so sorry but she issa not well. But Mandy, you like her?’
The guests eagerly agreed that Mandy was an excellent replacement. James looked at Mandy who stood nearby looking pleased with herself. Charlie Hawkins, the librarian, walked toward him. It wasn’t often he saw the librarian in this environment but he didn’t look out of place.
‘She’s spectacular.’
‘Yes, she certainly appears to have made her mark on the evening.’
‘And Olivia Dupree won’t be singing at all tonight?’
‘No, Mandy has the evening in which to impress and impress she appears to be doing.’
Carlo spotted him and made his excuses to join James. Charlie made a beeline for Mandy as James steered the bandleader out of the dining room. ‘Thought you might like a bit of peace and quiet,’ he said.
Carlo bowed and strolled around the reception area, examining the photographs. Although the theme and decor was Christmassy, the portraits depicting the village and its residents during the Great War took up one wall of the room. Charlie had supplied them with a number of photographs from the library. With the Pals reunion later that week, they wanted to pay tribute to the community by having those memories on show. Amid the colourful decorations, sprigs of holly and red-leaved poinsettias Beth, together with Anne, had framed some wonderful photographs and added an artistic display with handwritten notes depicting names and places.
‘A little unusual to put such pictures up at Christmas, si?’
James explained their reasons for doing so. ‘We didn’t want to be sombre or anything but the men tonight, and those attending later in the week, will appreciate the effort.’
‘They are an interesting group.’ Carl
o went on to outline how much he had enjoyed the small amount of time he had speaking with the Pals quartet and the amusing stories they told. ‘They speak little of the fighting but the, ’ow you say-ah, camaraderie, was good, si?’
‘You’re absolutely right and there is a tremendous fondness for the Pals. They were part of the community and didn’t initially join up. But I believe our forces were almost non-existent at one point; so the call was put out for communities to serve with the assurance they’d fight alongside one another.’
After a polite interval, James steered the conversation to Olivia. He opened his cigarette case and proffered it. Carlo accepted a cigarette and, using his own stylish leather-cased lighter, lit both his and James’.
‘She issa a diva, you know that?’
‘You know her better than I.’ James shuffled on his feet, unsure how to go about the next question. In the end, he thought it best just to come out with it. ‘I couldn’t help noticing the pair of you having words earlier this evening.’
Carlo laughed. ‘We are always fighting, Lord Harrington. I’m Italian, it’s in my nature. She wants me to be her lover.’
James baulked at his directness.
He held his hand open. ‘Si, all the time she tells me she wants me, she loves me, she want to marry me.’ He looked somewhat forlorn about the whole affair and shook his head. ‘I want to get married, si; but I want a wife who wants children and cooks like my mother. I’m a typical Italian boy, Lord Harrington.’
‘You’re an old-fashioned man at heart.’
‘Si. And I want a woman who will make a home.’ He jutted his chin toward the dining area. ‘Women like Olivia want what will suit them. She hassa no respect.’
The conversation was an enlightening one for James. He thought Carlo Pisani, the up and coming bandleader, was driven by his career. The man was in constant demand around the country, on the radio and, now, the television and here he was talking about settling down with a wife and family. His comments about Olivia were not for sensitive ears. He admired her as a singer but, as a person, there was an underlying animosity; he tolerated her. The bandleader confirmed what many others had said: Olivia was a manipulating individual whose sole goal was to reach the top and fiddlesticks to anyone who stood in her way.
‘She wants me because I am the man of the moment; handsome, famous bandleader. I look good as her escort.’ His face turned to thunder. ‘I will not be used, Lord ’arrington. She will parade me like a puppet and drop me when issa convenient for her.’
The band began playing. Carlo’s face brightened. ‘Ah, issa time to play again. You come - dance with your beautiful wife.’
James followed the bandleader through and watched as he jogged back to his band and smiled warmly at the audience.
Beth sidled up to him. ‘Isn’t he a dream?’ she said as she led him to the dance floor.
James held back his thoughts. He’d witnessed a flash of Carlo’s temper during their chat. And not once did he ask how Olivia was. Did he not believe she was ill? Did he simply dislike her or did he actually hate her? Had he tried to kill her tonight? As he led Beth around the dance floor, James saw Harry gesturing him over. He held up a hand to indicate they’d be over once this dance was finished. He’d hardly had a chance to enjoy a waltz with Beth and he wasn’t going to see this evening out without paying her some attention.
Five minutes later, they’d joined George and Harry in the office. Paul delivered a trolley of drinks. James poured a whisky and ginger for the men while Beth opted for a gin and tonic.
‘So, George old chap, what news?’
George let out an exasperated sigh and explained how difficult it was speaking with Olivia Dupree. ‘I can see why people don’t like her. She spoke to me as if I should be cleaning her shoes. It’s a wonder someone hasn’t tried to poison her before.’
James agreed and outlined his chat with Carlo. ‘No love lost there. His account of the argument outside is that he was trying to convince Miss Dupree that he is not interested in being her lover.’
‘Oh heavens,’ said Beth. ‘She has designs on him?’
‘She has designs on everyone, darling, but where Carlo is concerned it is not reciprocated.’ He went through his conversation with Carlo, then sipped his drink and regarded Harry curiously. ‘Did you glean any more from Enid Carmichael?’
Harry made a face to suggest that he hadn’t. ‘Only that she can’t stand Miss Dupree but she’s settled on a future down in Devon with her chap. She’s got it all planned out. If she’s doing that, then why would she try to poison her employer?’
‘Fair comment,’ James put in and shifted to face George. ‘What about Mandy Billings? She’s making a name for herself out there. D’you think she’s incapacitated her employer to grab the limelight?’
George swirled the drink around in his tumbler. ‘Strychnine is a dangerous and volatile way to encourage your employer to have a night off. She could have just emptied a load of laxatives into her meal last night – that would have done it.’
‘Have you spoken to Mandy?’
‘Briefly. She seemed shocked, swears blind she didn’t see anything untoward. She’s worked with Miss Dupree for three years now and never had a problem. Miss Dupree said the same thing. I don’t think there’s any love lost between them but that appears to be par for the course where Miss Dupree is concerned. I’d be surprised to find anyone in her circle that does actually like her.’
‘Enid,’ said Harry, ‘indicated that she and Mandy had been chatting to the Pals throughout most of the dinner. They were talking about The Royal Sussex Convalescent Home, the one down on the coast. It appears that many of their comrades and forerunners went there. Not just men from the Pals ̶ Mandy and Enid had heard of it too.’
James knew the one he was speaking of. It was situated a few miles along the coast from Hove and stood in its own grounds. A magnificent building where they had looked after many of the soldiers from the war and which now operated as a general convalescent home. ‘So you’re no further forward.’
‘It’s difficult to pin down who had means and opportunity and, more importantly, a motive. I know she wasn’t well liked but that’s not enough.’
‘Who would have benefited if she’d been killed?’
George explained that no one present would. Although she never spoke to her family, the bulk of her estate would have gone to her parents. Beth expressed her surprise. ‘She must have a soft side after all.’
Harry topped up everyone’s glasses. ‘Do you need to speak with anyone else?’
‘The Pals.’
James started. ‘Surely, you don’t_’
‘I want to see if they saw anything, not if they did anything. As far as I know, they have no connection with Miss Dupree. She certainly indicated she’d never met or heard of any of them. Let’s get them in and have a chat.’
CHAPTER SEVEN
Beth finished her gin and tonic. ‘I’ll leave you to it. Don’t be too long, James, you are the host of Harrington’s and best man at this wedding.’
James assured her that he would be through shortly and asked Harry to gather the four Pals together. His son gave him a mock salute and marched off. In two minutes, he’d returned with the four men. George arranged chairs in a circle to make the interview less formal. James, meanwhile, distributed more drinks.
‘Thank you, your Lordship,’ said Billy Simmonds, the older brother by three years of Eddie who sat alongside him.
Now in their fifties, they were alike in many ways. Same build and similar mannerisms. They were dressed in their best suits although it was likely these were the only suits they owned.
‘It’s good of you to let us come tonight,’ added Eddie. ‘Our little gang are all looking forward to the dance next week. We’ve been saving up regular for the last couple of years and, if it’s anything like tonight, it’ll be grand.’
James assured him they would have a wonderful time. He knew that Harrington’s was beyond th
eir means and this year was the first that all the Pals who were still in contact with one another would be together since leaving the army. A number of them had emigrated to Australia and a few had married and moved out of the county. But they had vowed to have one reunion where they were all together and this coming Saturday would be that day. On learning of their desire to celebrate in style at Harrington’s, James had offered a considerable discount for them as a thank you from the village for their sacrifice.
Walter Anderson, a bulky man, loosened his collar and grimaced at its tightness. Scotty Bull, an equally large man, filled the room with his presence. With everyone comfortable, George went through the events of the evening, describing how Miss Dupree fell ill and that they suspected someone meant her harm.
‘Correct me if I’m wrong, gentleman, I’m assuming that you have no connection with Miss Dupree, but I wondered if you’d seen anything at all?’
The four men looked at one another and shook their heads.
‘I’ll be honest with you,’ said Eddie. ‘I didn’t like her very much. Bit hoity-toity for my liking.’
Walter agreed. ‘New money. That’s what they call it, isn’t it. I mean, his Lordship here is a gent. Treats everyone equally, whereas that Dupree woman ...’
‘Stuck up madam,’ added Scotty Bull. ‘Don’t mind speaking as I think.’
Lord James Harrington and the Christmas Mystery Page 3