Murder in the Shallows

by Byers, Beth

  “What?” Violet demanded.

  Hamilton brightened. “It could work. I don’t like to see Jack suffering. He’s suffering over that boy, his sister, you being here and seeing this part of his life. I’ll call Morgan.”

  Violet glanced at Lila, whose mouth was twitching. “Please don’t make me leave.”

  “We’re not leaving,” Victor told Kate, Lila, and Denny. “We’re part of this.”

  “You aren’t part of it,” Violet told him.

  “Neither are you,” Victor countered.

  She smiled at him, and they turned as one to Hamilton. “You’ll need us,” she told him. “We put pressure on, but we also make it seem innocent. ‘We’re worried about Jack, Morgan. Come to the hotel. Have a drink with him and that girl he loves. The spoiled earl’s daughter and her brother.’”

  He agreed. “I’ll call down to speak to Jack and have him invite those two Allens up.”

  “We need it to look innocent in here. Beatrice, bring desserts. Order a bunch of the flashy stuff. Whatever you can get. Make it look festive. Like a bright young thing party, as if we’re a few minutes from putting on a fancy dress and running drunken through the streets.”

  Hamilton snorted, and Violet winked at him. “We’re just a few months from getting you to join us on one of those treasure hunts, my friend.”

  Hamilton rose and connected to the Allens’ suite. Violet could hear Ham’s side of the conversation. “Jack. We’re calling up all the suspects. We’re going to try to pin one down and end things.”

  Jack’s voice was a rumble on other side of the telephone, but considering he had an audience, it must have been coded for Hamilton.

  “I know it’s unusual and probably unprofessional, but this whole case is a mess, Jack. These are our friends. The boy who died was the younger brother of your former fiancé. It needs to be unequivocal.”

  Hamilton finished the telephone call and turned, nodding to Violet.

  “Play it dramatic,” Violet told Tanner. “And don’t destroy my faith in you and be the killer.”

  “I’m not,” Tanner told Violet, but she didn’t say anything. She wasn’t going to pretend to have faith in him. She didn’t have that.

  “Make the chalkboard indecent, Violet,” Hamilton said. “Use your friends and their wit. Make it look as bad as you can. Kate, I understand you’re quite good at languages?”

  She nodded.

  “Pretend Jeremiah’s journal supports everything you can put on the board. Use as much as we believe, but make it worse.”

  Kate nodded again.

  “Whoever killed that boy tracked him through a quiet town, beat him pretty well, knocked him out, and threw him in the river alive, where he drowned before he could save himself.”

  Violet gasped, biting her lip.

  “The rest of them know pieces of it,” Hamilton said. “I don’t care what it takes to get those pieces out. The man who saved my life more times than I can count and who has never once cared that I am a miller’s son from the back of beyond loved that boy. We’re catching the killer for Jack.”

  Violet nodded, gritting her teeth as she approached the chalkboard.

  “For Jack,” Victor repeated.

  “For Jack,” Denny said. “Plus it’ll be fun to make the killer squirm.”

  “Oh, my lad,” Lila said, “don’t make a joke of it.”

  “If I don’t, I might sick up, my love.”

  Chapter 18

  They had taken the largest suite the hotel had, but it was still crowded. Even with the table loaded with cakes and sweets tucked back by the wall, more chairs had been brought for those who came to be interrogated, and with the chalkboard taking up the last of the space, there was very little room left.

  Violet and Victor turned the chalkboard back around and placed a covering on it that could be pulled down. Kate pulled random things from Allen’s journal as the twins wove them into fictions they added to the names on the board, mixing in the truth whenever possible but changing the angle of the truths to make it seem all the more terrible.

  “I think everything else is ready to go, my lady,” Beatrice told Violet.

  “Wonderful,” Violet answered without looking away from where she wrote, ‘Did Morgan have unnatural feelings for his niece? Was that why she died? If he couldn’t have her, no one could?’ “You may have the evening off. Be safe, love.”

  Victor was being particularly vicious under Miss Allen’s heading, with comments about the inheritance and her relationship with Jeremiah.

  “He did say to be salacious,” Victor told Violet when she winced at one of the things he wrote.

  “You’ve got that down, my brother,” Denny told Victor as he came to read the board. He chuckled evilly. “You have a future in truly offensive fiction.” He chuckled again and called to Lila, “Can you imagine, beloved? If they wrote truly lewd fiction? Their stepmother? I shudder in fear for them, but the show, my beloved, the show! Say we can attend when the day arrives? Please?”

  Violet glanced at her brother. They were being horrible human beings. She was ashamed of them. Aunt Agatha would be ashamed, Vi thought. This wasn’t just finding the killer, it was torturing the other mourners.

  “For Jack,” Victor said to her, ignoring Denny’s giggling.

  “I’m not sure Jack would approve of this.”

  “He doesn’t,” Jack said, placing a hand on her hip as he leaned around her to read the chalkboard. “Emily and her father will be here soon.”

  “I’m sorry,” Violet told him, hating this situation.

  “You want to go to the sea, don’t you? We’ll wrap this up and go somewhere cooler than London in the middle of summer.”

  Violet grinned, but it faded immediately as he read the chalkboard. His gaze moved over the comments under each of the names. Then, with a wink, Jack added his own terrible details using things only he could know. “Jeremiah would have loved this. It makes this farce easier. Even this stuff about Emily—he loved his sister—but he’d have let her squirm.”

  “Tanner, leave,” Jack ordered without moving from the board. “Come back in a half an hour. Make that thirty-five minutes. Be late. Show up as though you didn’t know what was happening. Act like the rest of them.”

  “I’ll do whatever you want, but I need a picture of Rachael when this is over. I don’t want to forget her face.”

  “Feed the situation and I’ll see you get one.”

  Victor had just set down his chalk and wiped his hands when Jack finished. Victor tossed the cloth he’d used to Jack, looking at the board. “That might be the most horrific piece of fiction we have ever written, and we wrote about a man masquerading as a ghost in order to make an innocent young woman fall in love with him. Only then he let her suffer while he verified her love.”

  “It’s your intentions that matter,” Kate told him as Victor muttered, frowning at the chalkboard.

  “My love,” Victor said, “some of these will hurt. The Scarlet Ghost was as fictional as your Romeo and Juliet.”

  “Sadly,” Kate said, reaching out and taking his hand, “Jeremiah Allen and Rachael Morgan are not fictional.”

  “If it helps,” Denny said lazily, “this is my favorite fiction yet. It makes my friend, the Scarlet Ghost, seem trite.”

  “You know what it makes,” Jack said carefully. “It makes Romeo and Juliet and their willingness to kill themselves for love seem romantic. Better that than these unnatural feelings between uncle and niece.”

  “That part was Violet,” Victor said with a snort, shaking off the morose mood. “You should remember that about her.”

  There was a knock at the door, and Jack said, “Let the play begin.”

  Victor swiftly flipped down the covering over the chalkboard.

  Mr. Allen and his daughter were the first to arrive. He was not nearly as comely as his daughter. His eyes, however, were brilliant. Sharp and clever. They were surrounded, however, by a pockmarked faced, an oversized red no
se, and thick, chapped lips.

  Mr. Allen took in the covered chalkboard, the cocktail Victor handed him, and Hamilton and Jack. “Playing games, lads? I’d be furious if I didn’t know you were hunting my boy’s killer.”

  Jack didn’t confirm, but Miss Allen looked from her father back to Jack and then walked over to lift the chalkboard cover, reading what was underneath it.

  “My feelings will be quite hurt, Jack darling, if Father is wrong about the purpose of this charade. This is not nice.”

  “Play along, Emily. Don’t mess things up with Jack again.” Mr. Allen’s voice boomed, making Violet flinch.

  Violet glanced at Jack, who shook his head slightly. She nibbled her bottom lip to keep from lashing out at Emily. It wasn’t that Violet didn’t trust Jack, but the assumption that things were corrected between Jack and Emily infuriated Violet. Before Emily and her father could break into a real argument, Mr. Morgan arrived. He shook hands heartily and crossed to Hamilton to speak of the case. Violet watched him move through the room completely at ease.

  Was it normal to treat this investigation as a dinner party? Of course, they’d invited him as though they were having a bit of a cocktail party. Except when you arrived to that event, surely you would at least muster up the pretense of sorrow when the dead person’s family was present?

  Violet frowned as she watched him, and then young Elijah Ballard appeared. His eyes were wide and shocked as he realized that the Allens were in attendance. He glanced around, taking in the set-up and frowning. It was clear that all was amiss, and he swallowed.

  Professor Snag was the next to arrive, followed by two of Mr. Morgan’s assistants.

  “I didn’t know the boys would be here, Jack,” Mr. Morgan said. “What’s going on?”

  “This is all Ham, my friend,” Jack said. His expression was smooth but stiff.

  “What’s all this about, Ham?” Snag asked as Nathan Tanner appeared next. “Nathan, my boy.”

  Hamilton stood, presenting himself rather like he had at the lecture. “My friends, lads, Emily, thank you for coming. Please help yourself to cocktails and pudding. Perhaps a few comforts will make what happens next all the easier.”

  “What’s this all about, Ham?” Morgan’s voice rose. “What the devil, my good man, is happening here?”

  What the devil indeed, Violet thought. Why was he jumping to anger so quickly? Violet glanced at Jack, whose gaze was fixed on his friend.

  Hamilton ignored Morgan’s outburst and said idly, “Well, have it your way instead of having the sweets, Daniel. You’re all here because you’re under suspicion of murder. A double murder actually.”

  Mr. Morgan’s choked and started to stand, but Hamilton snapped, “You will sit down.”

  Hamilton paused while the others settled back down. Once the objections stopped, Morgan spoke again, voice carrying, “We don’t have to put up with this, Hamilton.”

  “You don’t,” Hamilton replied. “You can leave here, and we can give our evidence to the local boys, who will arrest you on suspicion of murder. We have rather enough reason for all of you to be questioned further. I wonder what the dean will think of that, Daniel? You know he and I are rather good friends. Shall I call him and invite him to our little tête-a-tête? Explain to him how you won’t answer a few questions about the murder of one of the students and your own niece?”

  “Niece?” Morgan flushed, and his large eyebrows turned down, accentuating his fierce frown so much it seemed impossible that anyone could be as angry as this man at this time. He waved his hand, seeming to give Hamilton permission to proceed, but his voice was very clear as he said, “You are not the only one with friends in high places, Hamilton.”

  Violet glanced at Ham, who had flushed. That must, she thought, be a real threat for Hamilton.

  She could give him a career. Easily. But it wouldn’t be what he’d worked the entirety of his life for. She had a ridiculous amount of money but saving him if this all went south might be out of even her reach.

  Her head tilted as she examined him, and he smiled at her. He knew she was worried for him, and his eyes glinted with understanding. The two of them stared at each other and then Violet nodded. For Jack, who carried guilt. For Jeremiah, taken too early. For all of them who needed to escape this madness. Even for Emily, who loved her brother. For all of them except the killer.

  Chapter 19

  Hamilton slowly uncovered the chalkboard. The room was silent as the gathered suspects read. Then shouts of anger filled the space, and the younger lads looked at each other and back at the board, eyes wide and fixed. They seemed ready to run, but Mr. Barnes’s threat kept them quiet and in their seats.

  Mr. Tanner, however, did not watch Barnes like the rest. He didn’t read the board. He watched everyone else in the room react, and his mouth twitched. He was happy, Violet guessed.

  “What is this about me?” Professor Snag demanded. He had a bushy mustache and bald head, and rather kind eyes. “Why am I on this board, Barnes? What’s this about Miss Morgan having been killed? My man, she had a weak heart. You’ve known it since she was a child. Her heart failed her. There’s no reason to believe she was murdered.”

  “She was poisoned,” Hamilton replied calmly. “Why do you think Jeremiah Allen was so excitable about decomposing flesh? He dug her up and had someone look for evidence.”

  “What?” Mr. Morgan’s enraged shout had them all turning his way. “What is this nonsense? Unnatural love? Her money? Why would I kill my niece for her money? How could you believe that? How could you believe any of this?”

  “The money became solely hers the moment she married,” Nathan Tanner said quietly. “Elijah talked about it often. Her allowance, he was obsessed with it. There was a ticking time clock on when that money stopped being Mr. Morgan’s to access.”

  Elijah turned on Nathan Tanner, gaze narrowed on him. “I? I talked about it often? You were obsessed with her, scholarship boy. Do you think we don’t know it was her money that called to you?”

  “They’ve turned on each other so quickly,” Denny whispered to Violet as they stood at the back of the room with the others. He rubbed his hand together in near glee.

  “How long would it take you to turn on us?” Victor asked Denny, lifting a brow.

  Denny winked. “Turning on you would be too much trouble.”

  “He’s too lazy for that,” Lila added quietly, “and my truest love is Violet, so he wouldn’t have me around looking after him.”

  Violet smiled at Lila and arched a brow at Denny, who nodded and whispered, “It’s true. She loves Vi the most.”

  The shouting had finally quieted enough for Hamilton to explain. “We are looking to refute these claims, gents. Calm down. Perhaps you would like to go first, Snag. You asked why you were here. There are some claims about you. Tell us why they aren’t true.”

  “It’s simple enough for me, Barnes. I didn’t have a reason to kill Miss Morgan. I had no chance at her money. I was not her lover. I was a friend of her uncle who saw her on occasion and never missed her when I didn’t see her.”

  “And young Allen?” Hamilton asked.

  “I wasn’t even in Oxford yesterday. It was the reason why I sent Tanner to your reception. I did not kill the girl or Allen. Tanner would not have killed the girl. Anyone who knew him while she was alive knew he adored her. He’d have laid down in a puddle and let her walk over his back to keep her feet dry.”

  Hamilton glanced at Morgan, whose face was furiously red.

  “Why do you know that?” Jack asked Professor Snag.

  He shrugged, glancing Morgan, “Sorry old boy,” Snag started. “I’m a bit of a romantic. Rachael loved Nathan. Nathan loved Rachael. I…helped when I could.”

  “He is a scholarship student with no family,” Morgan shouted. “Why would you think that he was good enough for my girl?”

  “Rachael had options, Daniel. She chose. It was as simple as that. You can’t control a girl’s heart.”

>   Violet bit her bottom lip to keep from shouting a ‘Hallelujah.’

  Lila, however, muttered, “Hear, hear.”

  Denny reached out and put his hand over his wife’s mouth. “Hush, love. They’ll kick us out. This is my favorite part.”

  Jack was the only one to turn their way, but Lila winked at him with Denny’s hand still over her mouth. His eyes glinted with a flash of humor, and he shook his head at Hamilton. Violet elbowed Denny, who mimed buttoning his mouth.

  Hamilton ignored all of them. “Snag, we’ll check out your stories. Did you have anything to add?”

  Snag read over the chalkboard and opened his mouth to speak. Hamilton shot him a look, intent upon his next words, but Snag said, “I think I’ll save my comments for later. But I do think you can remove young Marcus from the list. He was not in love with Rachael. And though we all found the younger Mr. Allen irritating, Marcus had no reason to kill the boy.”

  “You are sure?” Hamilton asked.

  “He had no connection to her. They might have been friendly, but you can be assured—without question—that he did not feel betrayed by her loving either of the boys who claim to love Rachael and be loved by her.”

  Violet blinked and reexamined Marcus Irons, who blushed but didn’t look away from the board. The things they listed under his name were all fiction as far as they knew, having next to no information about him, but he didn’t even seem all that upset by them. Violet watched him carefully. They had gotten his story entirely wrong, Violet thought. If her suspicion was correct about Marcus, he had no reason to kill Miss Morgan.

  Violet examined him, examined Snag, and then said, “Perhaps Mr. Allen was incorrect about Marcus. I doubt it was the same for these rest of these men. This Elijah Ballard fellow thought he could compliment the shut-in niece of his professor and escape with her heart and her money—emphasis on the money. The same with Tanner, I think. Scholarship boy with an earnest gaze, it would have appealed to a girl who barely escaped her uncle’s thumb.”