by Sonia Parin
“Oh, I hadn’t thought of that. You’re suggesting I go incognito.”
“Yes.”
Evie tried to think of a name and drew a blank. “Heavens. Who could I be?”
“She’s coming.”
A woman emerged from a back room, her cheeks rosy, her eyes bright. Looking around the tea room, her gaze settled on Tom and Evie and she headed toward them.
“Quick. Quick. What do I call myself?”
“Ms. Crystal Aston,” Tom suggested.
Mrs. Johnstone smiled at them and introduced herself.
“How very kind of you to make time for us. This is Mr. W-Winthrop and I am Crystal Astor.”
“You’re American.”
“Why, yes… We are.”
“Any relation to the American Astors?”
Tom’s foot found Evie’s under the table.
Mrs. Johnstone seemed to be impressed at the prospect of hosting a member of the Astor family, so Evie decided to go with it… “Oh… Yes. I’m a distant relative.”
Giving Evie a bright smile, Mrs. Johnstone said, “Abigail tells me you were asking about someone.”
“A Mr. Prentiss.”
Mrs. Johnstone’s mouth firmed. “He stayed with us for a short time.” Her eyebrow lifted slightly when she said, “I believe he came here for business.”
It seemed Mrs. Johnstone believed there had been another purpose to his trip.
Evie lowered her voice, “Was he a disagreeable character?”
Mrs. Johnstone looked over her shoulder before saying, “He tried to chat up one of my waitresses and then he followed her home. I saw him with my own eyes.”
“And what did you do?”
Mrs. Johnstone straightened and lifted her chin. “I gave him a piece of my mind and then I asked him to leave.”
“And did he?” Evie could not have sounded more intrigued.
Giving a firm nod, Mrs. Johnstone said, “The next day.”
“What happened to the waitress?”
Mrs. Johnstone sighed. “She found a new position in Worthing. To this day, I believe Mr. Prentiss had something to do with her leaving. She was my best worker.”
“She sounds lovely.”
“And she was. I was heartbroken when I heard what happened to her.” Mrs. Johnstone excused herself for a moment. When she returned, she held a photograph. “This was taken on her last day here. We threw a little party and posed for a photograph.”
Tom and Evie leaned in to study the image, both remarking on her prettiness.
“I look after my girls and I can’t help feeling if she had stayed here, she would still be alive today.” Mrs. Johnstone drew out a handkerchief and wiped her nose. “But then, that is life.”
Evie thanked the proprietress for her time. Settling back to enjoy her tea she tried to come up with a story for Mr. Prentiss’ interest in May Fields other than the obvious one.
“Astor?” Tom murmured.
“Isn’t that what you said?”
“No, I said Aston. Like the motor car.”
Evie waved her hand in dismissal. “I’m sure there are plenty of Astors around.”
“Yes, but you claimed to be a distant relative.”
“You worry too much, Mr. Winchester.”
“A moment ago, it was Winthrop. Do I look like a Winthrop to you?”
“What’s wrong with the name?”
“It sounds stuffy and, considering the shenanigans we have been getting up to lately, I am anything but stuffy. I hope none of this ever gets back to your grandmother. I am supposed to be keeping you out of this type of trouble.”
“Never mind all that. What do you suppose Mr. Prentiss wanted with May Fields? Apart from the obvious?”
Tom cupped his chin in his hand. “I honestly couldn’t say. He approached her here and then he met her in Worthing. How do you think that encounter went?”
“Are you suggesting we should think of the obvious reason?” Evie gaped. “Wait a minute. He came to Findon alone. What if he did accost her? Several months later, he finds himself in Worthing with his wife and, to his surprise, the maid cleaning his room is the young woman he tried to chat up here.”
“She might have tried to confront him about it or, he might have been foolish enough to try again,” Tom suggested.
“Let me think. May Fields sees him in the hotel, then she realizes he is staying in the room she has to clean. There is no getting out of it without making a fuss, so she keeps quiet about it. However, at some point, she can no longer bear the idea of this horrible man living the high life and getting away with approaching unmarried women and seducing them. She finds herself in his room. She sees the bottle of brandy…” Evie’s shoulders slumped. “If I continue with the story, I’m afraid I will have to say May Fields suffered a bout of self-pity, caved in to temptation or maybe anger. Yes, anger. She snatches the bottle and considers tipping the contents out. Instead, she breaks down and takes a swig of the drink.” Evie drummed her fingers on the table. “Help me out.”
“There’s only one ending to your story. She had one too many sips of the brandy and became quite inebriated. She might have gone out onto the balcony to sober up and that’s when she fell.”
“Face down. Onto the pavement…” Evie surged to her feet. “We need to return to Worthing.”
Tom took care of paying for their drinks and they exited the tea room.
“You are suddenly in a hurry to return,” Tom said. “Is there a particular reason?”
“Yes, I’m eager to speak with Edmonds. I remember Caro saying he saw May Fields fall to her death.”
“And?”
“I didn’t ask at the time. Now, I’m hoping he is over the shock. According to Caro, Edmonds didn’t take it well. Anyhow, as morbid as it might sound, I would like to ask him for details.”
Chapter 14
Before they reached the roadster, Evie changed her mind. “While we’re here, I think we should try to speak with May’s friend.”
“What do you want to ask her?”
“I’m not sure yet.”
They doubled back, along the way admiring the pretty cottages lined along the street.
“Have you given any thought to how you will spend the rest of the summer?” Tom asked.
“I don’t have to. Everything is organized. I’m hosting a house party and, this time, it will coincide with Toodles’ visit. Granny should enjoy the company. There’ll be a few actresses taking a break from their performance in London. Phillipa is going to try to attend, but she’s not sure she’ll be able to get away. Her play is taking precedence and she’ll still be in full rehearsal mode. In any case, we’ll see her when we go to town for her opening night.”
Tom hummed under his breath.
“Tom, if you have something to say, then I suggest you verbalize it.”
“Actors? You only recently hosted a group of writers. Are you in the process of setting up an artistic salon?”
The fact he knew about salons surprised Evie.
“There’ll be other people as well. In fact, you’ll be pleased to know there will be several gentlemen present.”
Tom grinned. “How gentle will they be?”
“You mean, how snooty? One of them is a newspaper owner. A self-made man.”
“Will I be expected to dust off my alter ego?”
“The American millionaire who struck it lucky in the Oklahoma oil fields? Sure, that will be fun. What do you think Toodles will make of him… or, rather, you.”
“Toodles is used to my alter ego.”
Because… Evie wanted to ask, but where Tom Winchester was concerned, she felt the less she knew, the better. Evie had no idea why she felt that way. If she had to provide a reason, she would probably say there had been enough changes in her life and she needed to enjoy something that felt constant. Tom Winchester provided that, in a strange sort of way.
“Will you be taking your butler to London?”
“Of course. I would never dre
am of depriving Edgar.”
“And you’re not afraid he’ll want to stay on in London?”
Evie sighed. Edgar had originally been her London butler, but since her country house butler had retired, she had done everything in her power to convince Edgar to stay on in the country. “He’s quite content at Halton House.” More so now that he and Millicent had formed a strong attachment. Her other maid had been only too happy to leave the town house and settle in the country because, in her opinion, she’d been missing out on all the excitement. “Edgar would never dream of disrupting our happy household.”
Evie picked up her pace. “I think that’s Ruth Charles. She just came out of the house with the yellow roses.” The young woman’s reaction didn’t differ from the first time they had met her. Evie knew the precise moment when Ruth Charles saw them. Her step faltered. She looked over her shoulder and then, she appeared to push out a breath of resignation.
“Have you thought about what you will ask her?”
“I am hoping May Fields confided in her.” She must have, Evie thought and waved. “Hello. We meet again.”
They were only a few steps away, close enough to see Ruth Charles bite the edge of her lip.
Evie imagined her wondering what the strange woman could possibly want from her now.
“This is going to sound rather odd,” Evie said.
Ruth Charles hugged her basket against her and nodded.
“We heard a rumor about a certain Mr. Prentiss showing an interest in May Fields.” Evie watched for her reaction. She thought she saw a slight tinge rise up in her cheeks. “Mrs. Johnstone from the tea room said she saw Mr. Prentiss following May home. Did she tell you about it?”
“She mentioned something. May thought he was trying to get fresh with her so she gave him his marching orders, saying she wasn’t that type of girl.”
Lowering her voice, Evie asked, “Did she tell you what he wanted from her?”
“He promised her a job.”
Evie wanted to clap her hands with joy. They’d found their connection. Mr. Prentiss had known May Fields.
“Did he say what type of job he had in mind?”
“No, but he promised it would be worth her while.” Ruth took a step back. “I’m sorry. I really must be going. I’m supposed to be running an errand.”
Evie drew out a card and wrote down her man of business’ contact number. “If you remember anything, could you please call this number?”
Ruth Charles looked perplexed. “What more do you want to know?”
“You might remember something else that slipped your mind now. For instance, he might have tried to contact her again or he might have sent her a letter.”
Ruth Charles gave a stiff nod and walked away.
“I don’t think she cared for your line of questioning,” Tom said.
Evie’s eyebrows drew down. “Did I come on too strong?”
“Well, you sort of left out all the pleasantries and cut straight to the chase.”
“You think I should have sweet-talked her? But that would be dishonest.”
“And yet, I’m sure Detective Inspector O’Neill excels at sweet-talking confessions out of criminals.”
“I’m sure you’re teasing me.” She took hold of his arm and tugged him along. “Come on. If you drive fast enough, we’ll make it back to Worthing in time for a late luncheon.”
“In other words, giddy-up.” Tom laughed.
“I’m sorry. Should I have sweet-talked you into driving fast?” She settled into the passenger seat and focused on what they had learned.
However, the drive back to Worthing took less time than expected. Certainly not enough for Evie to come up with a foolproof plan for extricating information from Mr. Prentiss.
When Tom slowed down, Evie realized she’d had her eyes closed. Straightening, she said, “What? What’s wrong? Why are you slowing down?”
“There’s a motor car approaching.”
Adjusting her hat, Evie focused on the vehicle. “Is there a protocol? Do we wave?”
“Why would you care?”
Shrugging, Evie said, “It might be someone who recognizes me and if I don’t acknowledge them, it might get back to Henrietta and she’ll want to know why I’ve snubbed them. News about it will spread and before you know it, I’ll be the talk of the town and be labeled the snobbish Countess.”
“Then you should play it safe and issue a cheery wave.”
As the other motor car drove by, Evie gasped. “Oh, I recognize him. It’s Mr. Addington. I wonder where he’s going? I didn’t see Mrs. Addington.”
“The plot thickens,” Tom teased.
A moment later, Tom slowed down again.
“Another motor car?”
“Yes, and one I recognize. It’s Edmonds in your Duesenberg.”
“What could he be doing out here? Heavens, you don’t suppose something has happened to Caro and he’s come out searching for us.”
Tom brought the roadster to a stop and Evie could see Edmonds slowing down too.
When he reached them, he greeted them with a worried look. “Milady.”
“Edmonds, where is Caro?”
Edmonds raked his fingers through his hair. “She’s keeping tabs on Mr. Prentiss. When we saw Mr. Addington drive off by himself, she suggested I follow him.”
Evie smiled with relief. “Excellent idea.” Evie urged him on with a wave.
Tom shifted gears and got them back on the road again. “Now your chauffeur has joined the game too.”
“Yes, and I’ll have to wait to question him about what he saw when the maid fell. That should give me a chance to sort out the information we have.”
Tom changed gears again and the roadster picked up speed.
Evie yelped. “I guess I better hold onto to my hat lest all my thoughts fly away with it.”
Chapter 15
“I must say, Caro has embraced the spirit of our investigation. It would never have occurred to me to send Edmonds chasing after Mr. Addington,” Evie remarked when they reached Worthing.
Grinning, Tom said, “You’ve become contagious.”
In a good way, she hoped. “I’ve been thinking…”
Tom steered Evie away from the path of a couple determined to claim the sidewalk as their own.
“I need to start thinking like a killer.”
Tom cleared his throat. “In case you are wondering, I lock my door every night.”
“As do I, of course. Just because I feel I need to start thinking like a killer doesn’t imply I will begin to act like one.”
Keeping his tone light, Tom said, “I’m sure there is a very fine line. How will you keep yourself from crossing it?”
“You jest.”
“Do you blame me? I feel you are about to trek down a rabbit hole and drag us all along with you.”
Evie’s eyes widened with surprise. “You have read Lewis Caroll?”
“With the exception of a few intrusive moments of excitement, I have been leading a sedentary lifestyle in the country. There is nothing but time and I choose to spend it wisely.”
“I’m glad to hear that. Anyhow, as I was saying, we need to start thinking like killers.”
“Oh, I’ve been roped in to play a role.”
“Why did Mr. Prentiss kill May Fields?”
Tom’s eyebrow hitched up. “Are you, by any chance, adopting the guilty until proven innocent tactic?”
“Yes, I think it will prove tremendously useful, making us focus on motives and opportunities and whatnot.”
“Whatnot? That sounds dangerous.”
Evie elbowed him in the ribs. “Please try to take this seriously. Oh, there’s Caro.”
“Where?”
“Sitting by the window. She must have Mr. Prentiss in her sights.”
They stepped inside the hotel, crossed the lobby and headed toward a sitting area. A waiter was just serving Caro some tea. Seeing them, Caro spoke briskly.
“I just asked for
another pot of tea, milady,” Caro said.
“Oh, I feel rather dusty from our drive, but I suppose there’s no harm in sitting here for a cup of tea.” Evie settled down opposite Caro and leaned forward to whisper, “Where is Mr. Prentiss?”
“At the opposite end, milady. He has his back to us. He’s been sitting there, drinking coffee and reading the newspaper for the better part of the morning. This is my second pot of tea and I’m almost afraid to get up but get up I must. Excuse me for a moment.”
Tom removed his hat and sat down beside Evie. “I’ve said it before, I will say it again. You have missed your calling.”
“Nonsense.”
“You’re too quick to dismiss your abilities. You have taken a passing concern and followed it through until you discovered something that might lead to the reopening of a case… which was never actually a case to begin with. I look forward to the moment you present your information to the local detective.”
“Why do I get the feeling you are amusing yourself at my expense? Go ahead and laugh.”
“I wouldn’t dare because I know you will have the last laugh. I prefer to be in your corner. Thank you.”
Evie took a leisurely sip of her tea. “I’m entertaining a stray thought, which is somewhat related to your comment about me missing my calling. Perhaps I have found an engaging occupation. Just because I am an heiress and a Countess doesn’t mean I couldn’t take an interest. Others before me have chosen to do more with their time even if they didn’t need to. I’m thinking of a prominent New York family, the Van Rensselaers. One of the daughters became a nurse and later on took the veil as a Sister of Charity.”
Tom’s cup rattled on its saucer. “Are you inclined to follow her footsteps?”
“I don’t believe I am as such. My point is, she didn’t need to do anything other than enjoy a life of leisure. Her family is incredibly wealthy. Instead, she chose to take an interest.” Evie leaned forward and patted his hand. “You look stricken. I’ll try to lighten the mood. Did you know the author of Moby-Dick, Herman Melville, was related to the Van Rensselaers? In fact, he mentions them in the first chapter of his book. Oh, now that I think of it, Edith Wharton is also related to them. While I haven’t yet read her latest novel, The Age of Innocence, I’ve heard say she based the fictional Van der Luydens family on the real Van Rensselaers.” Evie looked up and laughed.