by Bettie Jane
With business attended to, the excitement of the evening faded into weariness. They both needed rest, especially Jimmie. Julia walked with him. “How serious was it, Jimmie? Your friendship with Eliza?”
“We were only friends,” he said, grief present in his voice. “I would have waited for her. We were quite close in school, you know. I always thought that I would marry her, but she took up with that old cradle-snatcher Philip Withers. She was unhappy. I told her I would wait for her, but my feelings were…shall we say a bit one-sided. However, she trusted me, whatever the strain in our friendship due to my affections. We were friends.”
His voice broke at that last statement.
“I could tell by the way you looked at each other that there was an undercurrent of something between the two of you.”
Jimmie let out a long, resigned sigh. “Philip would have been furious if he’d know that I was in contact with her. We had to keep our friendship a secret. He simply wouldn’t have understood. Do you think anyone else suspected?”
Julia shrugged. “I notice things that most don’t. The blessing and curse of being a quiet wall flower, I suppose. I think Mattie may have suspected but only because she’s obsessed with you. She watches your every move.”
Jimmie looked surprised. “Still? I thought perhaps she’d gotten over that.”
“You mean you haven’t noticed the way she still gets googly-eyed around you? Never mind, of course you haven’t. Men rarely notice such things unless they happen to return the sentiment, which you don’t, not for Mattie. What were you helping Eliza with, Jimmie?”
“She was thinking of leaving him. She said time was of the essence, even though I attempted to convince her to think and plan carefully. Not to be rash. She insisted it was what she wanted and that she wanted to act quickly. She was just waiting for the right time. We hadn’t worked out the details yet. Perhaps he suspected something?”
“Why were you and Philip arguing back at the Candlelight?”
Jimmie shook his head. “Nothing of import. He bumped in to me and spilled my drink down the front of his shirt. He was drunk, very drunk, and blamed me for his misstep. I chose to walk away rather than fight him. I didn’t want to ruin everyone’s hunt. Or give Eliza any more of a headache to deal with.”
“You know the ring was missing?”
“Yes, I saw her bare finger. Someone took it from her, quite forcefully.” The edge she’d heard in his voice earlier had returned.
They strolled through the darkness toward her home. “If Philip had an inkling of your helping her to leave him, he may lead the police to believe you had something to do with her…her death. They’ll come ‘round asking questions. You know that, too, darling?”
He nodded and his shoulders slumped in resignation. “I know.”
“Not to worry, love. You’ve got a dozen witnesses that will confirm you were with us all night.”
He shrugged his shoulders this time. “And the Candlelight Club full of people who saw me have words with Philip. Eliza wasn’t the most discreet. It’s possible she told friends I was helping her. Yes, they’ll definitely come asking questions.”
“Don’t you worry, darling. We’ll find out who actually murdered Lady Withers before they ever have a chance to think of you. I fear it won’t be a short list of suspects, given the interesting facets of their relationship and Philip’s quite rash temper.”
“Well then, if Julia Barlow is on the case, I shall not fret for a moment.” He seemed to stand a little taller at her promise.
Julia smiled. “Say, do you know what Mattie was doing before she found the body? Why was she in that dark patch by the river alone?”
Jimmie shook his head, “I can’t say that I noticed her whereabouts. I was having a chat with Oscar when I heard her shouts.”
“Oh, really? I lost track of Oscar quite earlier in the evening. What about Sidney Guinness? Do you recall when you saw him last?”
He shook his head. “He was with us when we took our photograph with the gas crew, and I’m nearly certain I saw him talking with Edith after we’d arrived in the clearing at Hyde Park.”
He cocked his head and slowed his steps.
“Julia, are you and Sidney—”
“That’s quite hilarious. No, most definitely not. If my parents had their wish, I’d marry him and give them a houseful of grandchildren, but they won’t. They would love nothing more than to see me give up my position at the paper and follow in mother’s footsteps, which sounds like a lifetime of torture to me. Why do you ask about Sidney?”
They picked up the pace, walking quickly through the brisk night.
“Just curious. Our flirtations are fun and even though you and I aren’t destined for something serious, I thought I should make sure you are still, shall we say, available?”
“Things with us shall stay as they are until further notice. I fully expect you to be snatched up by some lovely young thing before I’ll ever be ready to chuck all of this glamour for the married life. Here’s my stop, darling.”
He leaned in and gave her an exquisite kiss goodnight. “Thank you, Julia. For everything. Is brunch still happening at your house tomorrow?”
“Yes. I’ll just get some rest now and ring you in the morning; don’t forget morning doesn’t arrive until at least ten! I have some thoughts I should like to explore with you. Get some sleep if you can. I suspect the next days will be quite busy for you.”
He started to walk away and then paused. “Do you already have a list of suspects then?”
“Well, nothing concrete, certainly. It’s too soon for that. You’re a suspect, although I’m quite convinced of your innocence. I suppose Mattie Hawkins will be a suspect since she found the body, though I really can’t imagine her taking such extreme action. Sidney Guinness actually comes to mind as well. There’s been a lot of hubbub about the failed business deal between Guinness and Withers. Murders are usually about love or money, I suppose. I think it’s worth checking out. Oscar Goodall was quite friendly with Philip—Cecil has spoken of their friendship being quite on display amongst the Soho crowd. Perhaps Oscar was jealous of Eliza’s status as Philip’s wife? That would give him motive as well, although it’s hard to imagine sweet Oscar Goodall doing anything so violent as was done to Mrs. Withers.”
Julia held out her hand extending a finger to count each suspect as she named them off. One finger for Jimmie, another for Mattie, a third for Sidney Guinness, Oscar made four.
“It’s smart to also consider her husband, Philip. They had a very complicated relationship and I suspect he will be first on the police’s list of people to interview since he was her husband and with a famous and violent temper. Let’s not forget our man Frankie Sutton and the entire treasure hunt aimed at taking that ring that is now quite obviously missing. The whole of the West End knew we were searching for Eliza and her ring. Why did Frankie select her as the target of our hunt? It could look quite suspicious to the investigators. If we can find the ring, I think we find our killer, Jimmie. What say you?”
Between her two hands, she’d extended six fingers. Six suspects to rule out or pin down.
His mouth had fallen at her lengthy list of suspects. “Is there anyone you think didn’t kill Eliza?”
“Why, of course. I quite know that I didn’t do it. Everyone else is a suspect, dear man. One must start with what one knows and then build on that foundation, one piece of information at a time. I’m also certain that there must be additional scandal in Eliza’s life that will come to light now that she’s dead. We’ll solve it, dear one. Good night.”
Julia watched Jimmie walk away and then disappeared through the gates and into the shadows of her estate. The image of Eliza’s horrific murder and the thought of one of her friends getting caught up in an investigation drove Julia. If Jimmie was helping Eliza, the police would be on to him soon.
Tonight, she would sleep if she could manage it without nightmares. Tomorrow she would get on with the business of
finding Eliza’s killer.
______
Saturday Morning
Barlow Residence
Mayfair, London
When Julia woke from sleep, she saw that it was ten in the morning. She picked up the notebook that she always kept by her bed and made a list, then she rang for her butler. Frederick had been in the Barlow family’s service for as long as Julia could remember. He seemed quite like a grandfather to her.
“Frederick,” she said, when he knocked on her bedroom door, “I’d like to arrange for a small get-together today, say around one pm. Here’s a list of guests I’d like you to invite if you have the time.”
“Of course, Miss Barlow. What would you like to serve?”
“Tell the cook I trust his judgement, but please put in my request for extra champagne.”
“Yes, Miss.” Julia was always kind to the servants, a fact that her parents disapproved of.
“You blur the lines, Julia,” her mother always said. “They won’t know their place.”
“Oh, bother, Mommy,” was always Julia’s reply, “they quite know what they are being compensated to do. There’s no reason I can’t ask nicely.”
With the party details being attended to by Frederick and Cook, it was time to get ready for the day, so Julia rang her maid.
“Wendy, do be a dear and set out an outfit for me that is suitable for afternoon tea.”
Once Julia was dressed for the day, she made some notes for herself.
Jimmie: in love with Eliza, did they have a lover’s quarrel?
Mattie: in love with Jimmie (jealous of Eliza?)
Oscar: in love? with Philip, Eliza’s husband (jealous of Eliza?)
Sidney: wrong side of a business deal gone badly?
Philip: angry husband perhaps? History of violent behavior toward his wife
Frankie: mastermind of the treasure hunt for Eliza’s (now missing) ring (why would he kill for it, though?)
That was only the list of suspects Julia knew had motive and perhaps opportunity. The likelihood of many other unknown jilted lovers was quite high. This was also the list of guests she’d invited to her brunch. For matters of convenience, she was certain she’d be able to save time by interviewing them all at her home, rather than tracking them down individually. She needed to be sure of her friends’ innocence, especially after having been involved with the antics in the treasure hunt last night. They all needed to be ruled out and then she could get on to solving this high-profile murder that might be her ticket to real journalist success—out of the social column and into legitimate investigation.
Julia finished getting ready for the day after she’d completed her list. Her guests would be arriving shortly so she made her way down to the sunroom where she loved hosting parties in the winter. The sunroom, just off the formal dining area, looked out over the well-manicured gardens and was as close as one could get to having an outdoor affair of any length in November in London.
Sidney was the first to arrive, and Julia dreaded having to spend time alone with him but put it to good use.
“While we are waiting for the others, and there is a break in the wet skies, shall we stroll the grounds, Mr. Guinness?”
“Of course, Miss Barlow.”
“That was quite a scene we stumbled onto last night, wouldn’t you say?”
“Yes, I’m sorry that you had to see that. What a frightful thing. I hope you weren’t possessed of too many nightmares?”
“Not at all, Mr. Guinness. I’m a journalist, you’ll recall. No stranger to violence in these times. Have you heard any news of Lord Withers?”
“No.” His voice was clipped and he didn’t elaborate.
Interesting.
“No stranger to violence? I thought you wrote about society.” His tone was condescending. She ignored him.
“I should think it would be quite devastating for him—the love of his life brutally murdered and left for any stranger to discover. Did you get a close look at poor Lady Withers?”
“Oh, no, I didn’t go near. Word traveled quickly, you see, and I heard it was quite a frightful scene. No need to be gruesome, I suppose.”
“I suppose so.” Julia wasn’t certain she believed that he hadn’t seen the body, but she let it lie. “I’ve been following the story in the papers about your business deal that went badly for you. I understand you and Lord Withers didn’t part on good terms. Did you have much opportunity to spend time with Lady Withers during the course of your business dealings?”
“No, I don’t suppose I did. Perhaps I’m one of the few gentleman in London who hasn’t spent time working to gain her favor. She’s got quite a reputation. I’m sure the police will be busy for some time sifting through all those who may have had cause to end her.”
Julia nodded. “She did seem to have quite a social life, certainly. Do you think they’ll have reason to suspect her poor husband?”
“I’m sure I don’t know the ins and outs of their relationship. I had heard, through the grapevine of course, that there was some trouble with Philip’s ability to father a child, which would explain their lack of offspring. I don’t suppose that’s any kind of motive for him to kill her. He does have a reputation for having quite a temper, though.”
“Ah, yes. I’ve heard such rumors myself. Come, let us return inside. The others must have arrived by now.”
They walked back to the sunroom area and as Julia suspected, more of her guests had appeared.
Frankie, Mattie, Oscar, and Jimmie sat around the well-stocked table chatting. It appeared that Philip Withers would not be joining them, which Julia had as much as suspected. None of the group who did come had enjoyed much sleep and they all looked a bit worse for the wear.
“Let’s enjoy some champagne, yes?” Julia said as she welcomed the rest of her guests. “I quite appreciate you all coming. What a horrible set of events, don’t you think? The business with the poor Lady Withers…just dreadful.”
“Simply awful,” Mattie said through sniffles and red-rimmed eyes. A strange reaction for someone who Mattie so clearly disliked, given the Lady Withers attachment to Jimmie.
She poured champagne for everyone around the table and silence fell over the room while they all nibbled on the smorgasbord in front of them. Cook had done a marvelous job preparing such a massive feast, topped off with what Julia was certain were the freshest oysters in London.
After they were finished and the servants had cleared away the meal, Frankie stood and addressed the group.
“I’m sure I could use something stronger than champagne. I shall mix cocktails for us. What will it be today?”
Julia, ever the hostess, answered, “Whatever you feel called to mix up, Frankie, so long as it has gin and lavender in the concoction.”
“I suppose that should narrow it down then. I’ve been thinking a bit about Lady Withers and of course I feel just awful that she and her diamond ring were the focus of our hunt last evening.”
Julia asked, “How did you select her as our target, darling?”
He looked a bit embarrassed. “I’m afraid I feel quite foolish for having done so. It was random luck, really. I saw her husband earlier that day. He was going on about the ring he’d given her as a gift that was worth a mint. It was either to be Lady Withers’ ring or a famed painting that’s got on display in Mrs. Benham’s parlor. Honestly, the ring seemed like the easier, and more fun, task. Seems much easier to pocket a ring than a massive painting.”
Oscar weighed in. “I’ve seen that painting at the Benham home. It is magnificent. Perhaps we should hunt for that next? Find a way to get that out from under her nose. We could put in on display in a Soho club. Mrs. Benham is so uptight, she’d likely have a conniption if she knew her prized painting was on display in the devil’s playground.
Everyone smiled, but nobody laughed. Thinking about the next hunt seemed morbid with the memory of Eliza’s strangled body fresh in everyone’s mind.
Frankie continued, ignoring Oscar.
“Did you all notice the ring was missing from her finger? A strange coincidence, don’t you think?”
Julia nodded. “Certainly. Perhaps the murder was not the intended response. A heist in Hyde Park turned fatal…it’s possible, is it not, that this was simply a robbery gone bad?”
Jimmie said, “Julia darling, I couldn’t imagine Lady Withers putting up any kind of defense. I think she’d gladly hand the ring, and whatever other jewelry may have been on her, in trade for her life, don’t you?”
“One would think,” Mattie chimed in, “especially given her condition.”
Jimmie paled at Mattie’s comment. Frankie passed out the mixed drinks he’d been stirring and inquired further.
“What condition is that, Mattie darling?”
“Why, she was in the family way, of course. I heard Dolly Wilde mention it at a bottle party only a few nights ago.”
“Eliza Withers was pregnant?” Julia asked. Something about Mattie’s comment regarding Dolly Wilde seemed odd, but she couldn’t place it.
Mattie nodded, sniffling again. “How horrific for her husband. This would have been their first child, his only heir. And now…it’s just too awful, Julia.”
While Mattie spoke, Julia looked around the room to note the different reactions to the news of Eliza’s pregnancy.
Oscar looked exceptionally pale.
Sidney chose now to reveal what he’d already told Julia during their garden stroll. “Philip Withers was in no condition to father a child, Mattie. Either you are mistaken in the news you heard, or some other poor bloke is the father. I can’t say that hurts my feelings too much. Yes, yes,” he responded to the gasps of surprise around the table, “of course it’s quite hideous that someone would brutally murder someone of prestige like Eliza Withers, but Philip Withers…he deserves what’s coming to him. He had quite a temper. I heard tell that she was contemplating leaving him after their last bad row.”
Frankie weighed in again. “I don’t think it’s legal yet, mate, for a woman to divorce her husband for that offense.”
“Not legal to divorce,” Julia agreed, “but she certainly could have been leaving him. It is a free country after all. She has plenty of money. Certainly she could have found family to stay with.”
