The Christmas Conundrum

by Karen Hall

  “No, you won’t,” Mr. Hollingsworth said firmly. “You’ll either go home, or back to The Clarion. And you will not write any kind of article or editorial about miscarriages of justice or the plight of disabled veterans until you hear from me.”

  He raised a gloved hand and pointed at her, and Tabitha found herself nearly falling under the power of his voice. A voice rich and powerful in its authority and more than a little bit frightening. No wonder people wanted him as their barrister.

  “I won’t have you damaging the case before I get a chance to argue it, if it comes to that,” he warned again. “Do we have an understanding?”

  The case. Tabitha’s heart sang. “Yes, Mr. Hollingsworth. Of course.”

  “I’ll let you know what I learn,” he said, tugging at his gloves. “And I am sending your daughter outside while I talk to the constable and then to Hank Eustace. Remind her for me please, that the last time I heard, women still can’t argue cases in court, or present a bill in the House, though the way things are going I’m beginning to think the days for that are numbered as well. “

  “Won’t that be wonderful when they can?” At the barrister’s frown, Tabitha hastily added, “We won’t interfere in any way. Or Elizabeth either. We shall all do exactly as you ask.”

  “Thank God for that,” he said. “I don’t think my nerves could handle a verbal assault from all three Goforth women, even if it were one at a time. You will excuse me, Mrs. Goforth.”

  He started to step toward the door, but in a burst of frenzied happiness, Tabitha pulled him into her arms and kissed him, just before her brain began to scream in protest. Through his thick, form-hugging coat, she could feel his heart leap into a wild staccato dance, nearly matching the speed of her own. A faint but pleasant scent of lime filled her head and that as much as his mouth on hers sent her senses reeling. She jerked away and found him staring back at her in a wild-eyed astonishment that surely must mirror her own.

  “Tell Clara to meet me at the corner,” she gasped, heat scorching her cheeks. “There’s always a cab there at this time of day.”

  And then afraid of what else she might say or do, Tabitha ran down the steps and then, slowing her pace just enough to not draw attention to herself, hurried toward the corner and the waiting line of cabs.

  Chapter Seven

  ONE WEEK LATER. INNS of Court

  Has London Gone to the Dogs?

  A Howling Good Case!

  A Ruuuuf Ride for Tobias!

  Bouncer takes a Bite out of Crime against Canines!

  “Do you have any idea of what you’ve done?” Nigel barreled into the Daniel’s chambers without so much as a knock, slamming the door behind him.

  Daniel looked up from his perusal of the four newspapers spread out on his desk, turned them around and pointed at the last headline. “This one’s rather silly, don’t you think?”

  Annoyance provided a mottled red to Nigel’s skin. “I don’t think you realize what you’ve done,” he insisted. “Going up against Harold Abernathy and preparing to bring charges against his son? Why didn’t you tell me? The man has friends in high political circles, or have you forgotten that?”

  “What I did, Nigel,” Daniel said evenly, “after gathering the facts of the case, was to determine there was no case. Not with seven witnesses—four of them wounded veterans like Mr. Eustace—who were ready and willing to testify on Hank Eustace’s behalf. I requested a special hearing for yesterday and told Judge Harding it would be a waste of time and money to take it to trial.”

  Nigel marched to the drink cabinet in the corner, poured himself a generous amount of an amber colored liquid from a decanter into a glass, and tossed it back. After pouring another one, he carried the glass with him and lowered himself into a chair fronting Daniel’s desk. It creaked under his solid form as he leaned forward and wrapped his hands around the glass, parking it on the desk’s highly polished surface. “What did Abernathy’s counsel say about that?”

  “Actually, he was delighted. Milo Jones, Abernathy’s barrister, finally managed to get him to understand if it went to trial, the obvious verdict against Tobias could seriously damage Abernathy’s reputation,” Daniel said. “Abernathy wasn’t happy about it, of course, but considering the testimony of the witnesses, several of them veterans, what could he do? All charges against Hank Eustace were dismissed.”

  Nigel’s fingers beat a rapid tattoo. “And you just happened to arrange to have the hearing before Simon Harding, a known dog lover,” he accused.

  Daniel shrugged. “Actually, it was supposed to be Charles Hammersfield, but he was suddenly called away. Funny how those things happen. And Harding is a mastiff man who’s always claimed he’d never own a dog smaller than his cat.”

  “But his daughter raises Yorkshire terriers,” Nigel said, his annoyance not stilled. “Or didn’t you know that?”

  “Does she now?” Daniel asked, trying to keep the amusement from his voice. “Fancy that. Judge Harding could have come down much harder on Tobias Abernathy than just blistering the boy’s ears. Tobias being made to help serve soup at one of the churches that feeds the hungry for the next month will do him good. He’ll see a side of London he never knew existed. From his mother’s weeping you would have thought Tobias was being transported to Australia. Hank has to do the same thing, but at another location. Harding thought that at least was fair.”

  Nigel was not satisfied. “And whose idea was it to invite all those Yorkshire terrier owners to show up at the hearing with their dogs?”

  “I have no idea,” Daniel said honestly. “No less than a dozen newspapers made mention of the event before the hearing. Everyone in the neighborhood where the attack took place was talking about it. The story has been raging in the public all week, practically guaranteeing a legion of dog lovers might turn out. Have you read the editorial pages?”

  “Yes,” Nigel huffed. “Outraged public is an understatement. They might as well have hung Tobias by his thumbs.”

  “Not all the papers were on Hank’s side,” Daniel reminded him. “That’s due to Abernathy’s reputation, I suppose. But if the London Yorkshire Terrier Lovers Club, not to mention members of several veterans’ social clubs decided to put in an appearance, that’s their business. But you must admit, all those dogs in the courtroom were a nice touch. There were at least thirty of them.”

  “And Tabitha Goforth’s story in The Clarion was the final nail in the coffin,” Nigel accused. “She deliberately ran that story the day before the hearing, just to insure the public’s sympathy. Has that woman no shame?”

  ‘That woman’ indeed. “More like hubris,” Daniel said softly. “I suppose that owning a newspaper can have it advantages. She can write whatever she wants and have it printed. You almost have to admire a woman like that.”

  In a stunningly creative move, Tabitha Goforth had written a long, well-detailed story about the Hanover Lane Soldiers’ Center where Mr. Eustace was a member, the club’s history and its need for repairs and ‘sprucing up.’ She’d even taken a photographer with her. The old building had indeed seen better days, but the photograph of the members standing in front of it, showed them to be a cheerful ‘band of brothers’ who took pride in their club.

  But it was her simple, eloquent account of Mr. Eustace’s description of Tobias’ attack on Bouncer that would have wrung tears from a stone. Thanks to her, the boy wouldn’t have stood a chance in the witness box. Abernathy should be sending Mrs. Goforth roses in thanks that it never got that far. There was no doubt in Daniel’s mind, this was exactly what she’d intended.

  Recalling Milo Jones’ shocked expression as the crowd filed into the courtroom and took over every seat, including the gallery, Daniel bit back his smile. “Don’t worry about it, Nigel. All’s well that ends well. Finish your drink. Have another.”

  “I’d have twice that many but it’s too early,” Nigel said. “And it could still be worse for you. Abernathy is already claiming he’ll be working against y
ou when you seriously start your campaign.”

  “Let him, Nigel,” Daniel retorted. “I appreciate the warning, but I don’t need my conscience keeping me awake at night because I didn’t do what I thought was the right thing. And my daughters, both of whom own Yorkies, were thrilled at the outcome. If my helping a veteran who lost part of his leg in service to his country get justice for an attack on his dog—one who weighed just over three kilograms—by a boy known to be a bully costs me the election, so be it. And yes I checked Tobias reputation at his school. This is not his first act of aggression. Harold Abernathy refused to even consider paying for Bouncer’s care and Tobias had no consequences from him. No wonder the boy is spoiled. Sooner or later we’ll see him in the dock for a far more serious offense. “

  “How much did Tabitha Goforth have to do with getting you to hear the case on Hank Eustace’s behalf?”

  Do you mean other than the fact that she kissed me right on the steps of the Gower Street Police Station? It’s nothing short of a miracle no one saw us. Or at least I don’t think they did. Maybe sending her yellow roses was a mistake.

  The memory of that very simple but thorough kiss was doing dangerous things to Daniel’s blood pressure. He pushed the image aside, and pulled the newspapers back, stacking them into a neat pile to give him time to set his thoughts in order. He settled his features into what he hoped was a thoughtful expression. “I don’t understand,” he lied.

  “Of all the barristers in all of London, you just happen to be the one who she would ask for help,” Nigel countered. “I did a little checking myself this morning after I saw the papers. Hank Eustace is a day student at the East End school where Tabitha Goforth’s daughter Clara teaches. Tabitha Goforth convinced you to help in this matter, didn’t she? What leverage did she use? Your personal life is so spotless, I doubt she could have blackmailed you, so how did she convince you to even consider taking the case?”

  “You always do the right thing, my love. Even when it isn’t popular.” Letty’s gentle voice called from his memory. The courtroom full of barking dogs and their owners in all their let’s-go-to-court finery would have delighted her.

  “Mrs. Goforth reminded me—in an indirect way—that standing up for dogs and their owners is what Letty what have wanted me to do,” Daniel said softly. “Do not risk arguing that point with me, Nigel. There are other ‘kingmakers’ in this city. I’d like your help to get back in the House again, but I don’t want it so much I won’t do the right thing when it needs to be done. The election can go hang.”

  Raised voices and the rush of footsteps just beyond the door, followed by a furious pounding on it, stopped Nigel’s reply. Before Daniel could call to enter, it swung open and George Edgeworth stumbled in, his arms full of envelopes.

  “Sir,” he gasped. “I’m sorry, but there are three messenger boys lining up outside with more of these. I hope there’s no trouble after those stories in the newspapers.” Without waiting, he dropped the mail on Daniel’s desk. “What should I tell them?”

  “One moment if you please, Mr. Edgeworth.” Daniel took his reading glasses from his waistcoat pocket and put them on. Choosing a random envelope from the pile, he opened it and removed a single sheet to scan the contents. “Well,” he said as a ridiculous ripple of pleasure shot through him. “How very interesting. Listen to this, Nigel.”

  “Oh my God,” Nigel groaned. “What is it? An angry would-be constituent?”

  “‘Dear Mr. Hollingsworth,’” Daniel read. “‘Thank you for helping Bouncer’s owners. I love dogs—I have a bull terrier, by the way— and was horrified to read of his plight and that of his owner’s nephew in The Clarion. I can’t afford much, but here is one pound for the soldier’s center and another for Bouncer’s medical bills. Yours sincerely....’”

  He opened another one, silently read it, and then read through five more, thoroughly enjoying Nigel’s growing impatience. “They all say much the same thing, Nigel, and all with contributions for Bouncer and the soldier’s center. Mr. Edgeworth?”

  “Yes sir?” Edgeworth’s eyes had widened nearly to the size of saucers.

  “Please take these, and then gather up all the rest of the letters,” Daniel instructed. “Start making a list of all the return addresses—”

  “But sir, what about this morning’s correspondence?” Edgeworth’s voice rose in concern. “You said the answers needed to go out as soon as possible.”

  “They can wait. Please address as many envelopes as you can before you leave for the day and bring them back to me. I’ll start writing thank you notes this afternoon after I read the rest of the letters and see if there are more contributions. I suppose we should send receipts.””

  “You’re going to write thank you notes?” Nigel repeated. “What do you call that?”

  “A piece of brilliant political strategy,” Louisa Keller announced as she swept into the room. “Daniel couldn’t have done anything better if he’d planned it. Why didn’t you try something like that when you were running Hugh’s campaign, Nigel?”

  She came around Daniel’s desk to kiss him on the cheek before he could stand. The cold weather had colored her cheeks bright pink and her eyes had a special radiance. She looked magnificent, the kind of woman that any man might want by his side.

  And she was really a good sport. How many other women would have not put up a fuss after he excused himself to hurry away to find out what the devil Mrs. Goforth’s ‘life-and-death-emergency’ was? Instead she’d waved him away with a smile. He should send her roses. Red ones.

  “Brilliant,” she repeated as Nigel rose to help her with her coat and drape it over the back of his chair. “Most of the women in my social club have said they will convince their husbands to vote for Daniel when he officially begins his campaign next year. We need to get you a Yorkshire terrier to be your mascot, Daniel. Ask Kathleen or Victoria to let you borrow one of theirs.”

  “I don’t think it needs to come to that,” Daniel said, pleased by her attentions. “But thank your friends for me, Louisa. I appreciate their support and that of their husbands. Do we have enough envelopes, Mr. Edgeworth?”

  “I’ll see to it, sir,” the secretary sighed, gathering up the open letters and envelopes. “If not, I’ll send the office boy to purchase some.”

  “Were those thank you letters from London’s dog lovers?” Louisa asked, sitting on the chair beside Daniel as Edgeworth left the room, closing the door behind him.

  “They were,” he said. “When I arranged to present the facts of Hank Eustace’s case to be heard, I never thought it would come to this. Who would have thought that a Yorkshire terrier could prove to be so helpful?”

  “It probably worked so well because it was spontaneous,” Louisa agreed. “I doubt anyone could have planned for it. But you might want to limit your association with Tabitha Goforth.” Her pretty lips turned down in disapproval. “Who knows what cause she might want to champion next? She’s becoming notorious, Daniel. You don’t want to hurt your chances with the electorate before you even start your campaign by spending too much time with her.”

  “Spoken like a politician’s wife!” Nigel declared. “You’d do well to listen to her, Daniel.”

  “I’ll take it under advisement,” Daniel told them. The thought of running for office was becoming more and more appealing. “I think we just might give McCracken a run for his money.”

  “Think like a winner,” Louisa advised. “That’s what Hugh always said.”

  The sudden burst of Edgeworth’s raised voice from the outer office cut into their conversation, followed by the door swinging open again to show Tabitha Goforth. Like Louisa the cold weather had turned her cheeks a becoming shade of pink and the green scarf at her neck nearly matched her eyes.

  “Sir, I’m sorry—” Edgeworth was nearly bouncing on his heels behind her. “I told her you had visitors, but—”

  “Don’t worry about it, Mr. Edgeworth,” Daniel said dryly, getting to his feet. �
�There’s probably not much that would slow down Mrs. Goforth.”

  “Is this a meeting anyone can join, or do I need an invitation?” His visitor waited just inside the doorway, her eyes twinkling as she surveyed the room. Edgeworth hovered, as if in anticipation of Daniel needing his services.

  “You’re here, aren’t you?” Daniel said resignedly. “Do join us, Mrs. Goforth.”

  “Thank you.” Her pace was brisk as she crossed the room to seat herself before him. When he was settled again, she regarded him with a barely concealed amusement. “That was certainly a great deal of mail on your secretary’s desk, Mr. Hollingsworth. Do barristers always receive so many letters?”

  “They’re contributions, Mrs. Goforth,” Louisa said before Daniel could answer. “From a grateful dog-loving public.”

  “Really? Congratulations!” she said. Turning to face Nigel, there was no mistaking the laughter in her voice. “What do you think about Mr. Hollingsworth becoming Bouncer’s advocate. Mr. Davenport?”

  “I could say something about his campaign going to the dogs, but I think I’m outnumbered.” Nigel glared at Daniel. “If you can pull yourself away from writing those thank-you notes, come by the club tonight. We need to talk some more.”

  “Oh, Nigel, don’t be such a fussy old hen,” Louisa scolded. “I dare say by the time Daniel really begins his campaign, he’ll have every vote he needs to win just because of his involvement in the Eustace case.”

  Nigel only scowled and beckoning Edgeworth, left the room with the secretary scurrying after him. When the door was closed once more, Daniel leaned back in his chair and folded his hands over his chest. “How can I help you Mrs. Goforth?”

  “You’ve decorated your office for Christmas,” she said, looking at the ornament-covered tree. “How lovely and welcoming. It’s certain to put clients at ease.”

  “Thank you,” Daniel said. “My daughters and Mrs. Keller surprised me with it. It does give the place a festive air, doesn’t it?”