by Bettie Jane
He hung his head, a cloud of shame pressing down over his entire body. “She did? I’m so sorry. I wish she wouldn’t have seen that. I’m so ashamed. I’ve been in the drink since I left your brunch. I didn’t know the Lady Eliza was pregnant…he didn’t tell me that when he…”
Frankie broke down into wracking sobs, his head on his desk. Julia and Jimmie looked at each other in horror. He’d done it. Frankie murdered Eliza.
“Frankie. Why? Why did you kill Lady Eliza?”
“I—he—” he couldn’t seem to get the words out in between sobs. After a moment, his eyes cleared and his face took on a strange expression. “Kill Lady Eliza? What are you talking about? I didn’t kill Lady Eliza. I stumbled onto her—onto the body when I was looking for Mattie. I saw her laying there, dead, and before I knew what was happening, I was taking the ring from her finger. I can still hear the crunch of the bone. Who does that, Jimmie? Who steals a ring from a dead woman?”
Jimmie and Julia sat down simultaneously in the leather chairs across from the desk. Julia began laughing, knowing that she sounded a bit hysterical. Jimmie soon joined in.
“Why are you laughing? How could you laugh at something so horrible? I haven’t been able to think of anything else since.”
“Oh Frankie, we aren’t laughing at you. I’m sure you must feel dreadful for that. We are laughing in sheer relief,” Julia explained.
“I don’t understand.”
Jimmie said, “Frankie, we thought, after what Mattie saw—she saw you take the ring—and when we learned what happened to your family money, well, I’m embarrassed to admit that we considered, or rather thought…um, worried, that you had strangled Eliza and Philip Withers.”
“Philip is dead, too? What day is it?”
“It’s late Sunday night,” Julia answered. “Philip was killed only hours ago. Clearly not by you. From the looks of you, I’d say you’ve been drunk since my brunch yesterday, Frankie.” She spoke with affection though.
Frankie wasn’t the killer.
Still, Julia had some unanswered questions. “Why Eliza’s ring for the target for our treasure hunt, though? Was that just a coincidence?”
Frankie’s face turned red as he spoke. “Someone offered me a large sum of money if I would steal her diamond ring and then sell it back. They said it was a practical joke they were playing on her and her husband and that, in the end, they’d find the whole thing very amusing. You must believe me. I had no idea she would get hurt. When I saw the body, I panicked. I saw her ring and could only think of the money my family needed. She was already dead, I swear it. I justified taking her ring because she would never even know. You believe me, don’t you?”
Frankie was a gentle giant. Julia had known that, of course, but she also knew that desperation could turn a man into an ugly, ugly thing.
“I believe you,” Jimmie said without a moment’s hesitation.
“Me, too,” Julia said just on his heels. “How did this person contact you?”
“By letter. It was unsigned.”
“Another anonymous letter?” Jimmie asked.
“Do you still have the letter, Frankie?” Julia asked.
“I destroyed it after Eliza was murdered. I panicked. I didn’t know what to do.”
“The ring?” Jimmie asked.
“I threw it in the Thames yesterday. It made me ill to look at it.”
“Someone has created quite an elaborate puppet show and we’ve been dancing to their tune since Friday. Someone who knew us all well enough to know how to manipulate us. We need to find Oscar and Cecil,” Julie said.
“I don’t know that I can imagine Oscar or Cecil as murderers any more than I was able to imagine Frankie.”
“Me either. I’m certain they are innocent. Maybe they know something that will send us in a direction. I’ve been on the wrong trail since Friday. What a waste.”
Chapter 9
Late Sunday Night
November 13, 1921
Goodall Residence
Mayfair, London
Since Opal’s parents were still away traveling, Julia, Frankie, and Jimmie made their way back to the Goodall residence. They’d rung Opal in advance to let her know they were coming.
Most of the group who’d participated in the treasure hunt on Friday was gathered, everyone but Oscar and Cecil. Edith, Mattie, and Opal were seated in comfortable chairs scattered around the parlor. Frankie slept on a sofa, snoring loudly—the alcohol having caught up to him again—and Jimmie and Julia sat on a sofa by the fireplace.
“I need to start from the beginning, Jimmie,” Julia said. She looked around the room and began. “This weekend has been a whirlwind and I haven’t had a chance to give you all the information that I’ve discovered. It’s overwhelming, but I need to go back to the beginning and create a list of what we know for sure, based on our collective input. I feel as though I can trust every single one of you. I hope you feel the same.”
Frankie’s snores were the only sound, followed by heartfelt laughter. Everyone was tired and worried for Oscar and Cecil, and a little levity was just what they all needed.
“All right, then. Let’s recap. We know that Frankie was offered a bribe, via an anonymous note, to steal Eliza’s ring. Which means someone knew Frankie’s family money troubles. As a result of the offered bribe, he selected her ring for the focus of our hunt. Likewise, Mattie received a note telling her that Jimmie was having an affair with Eliza and that she was pregnant with his baby. The police are studying the handwriting for analysis. We know that the murderer had to be watching our whereabouts and following us since we had no plans and kept moving around the city. We know that someone killed Eliza Withers. We also know that Mattie found the body and we know from Mattie that she saw Frankie removing the ring from Eliza’s corpse. I immediately suspected Philip, and doing so cost us precious time. With him dead now too, we know he isn’t the killer.”
Edith spoke, “I think we can say it’s likely that he wasn’t the killer but it’s possible he did the first murder and then someone found out about it and killed him in revenge.”
Julia nodded. “That’s a good point, Edith. At any rate, we are somewhat certain he didn’t kill Eliza, given that his handwriting doesn’t match the note sent to Mattie. We know that Jimmie was framed. Someone called the police station and said Jimmie and Eliza were having an affair and Jimmie had fathered her child. They also managed to plant evidence at Jimmie’s home, thus the police found garroting wire and red poppies. Red poppies were attached to the garroting wire that was used to strangle Eliza. A similar style garroting wire was used to kill Lord Withers, who was murdered today. While at the Withers’ home looking at his handwriting, I discovered that some recent journals of Eliza’s were stolen. I suspect those journals would shed much light on our investigation. When I searched around the Withers study, I found a business file that I borrowed—please don’t tell the Inspector.”
She held up the file. “I need to study it in more detail, but there’s evidence that the Sutton family business was destroyed by a failed business deal between Sidney and Philip. Whoever might have known that information could be guilty. The person who sent Frankie the letter about a bribe, if they and the killer are one and the same, knew Frankie needed money. They knew that Mattie would be upset—sorry Mattie—about the misinformation the culprit was spreading about Jimmie and Eliza. Eliza told Oscar that he was the father. Jimmie knew she was pregnant as well, though she never told him by who and he was helping her find a safe way to leave Philip.”
Opal asked, “We know how Eliza was killed, but do we know why?”
“Oscar may have some insight when he returns, and I’m hoping to recover Eliza’s journals, but no, not really. At first I suspected she was killed by Philip because of her pregnancy. He’s unable to father children, according to rumor, and therefore would be certain any pregnancy of hers was not by him. She may have been killed for some other reason, but we can’t be sure. Her pregnancy could have been the motive.
Whoever it was and for whatever reason, they lured her out to Hyde Park where we all were.”
“He will return, won't he? Oscar?” Opal’s voice was smaller than it had been before, fragile just like her.
Julia nodded. “I'm more convinced than ever of his innocence. Not because I know who is guilty, mind you, but because I know Oscar, just as I know Frankie. I let my imagination run away with me, I'm sorry to say, and for a brief time thought the worst of him, but in the end it was proven to me that people of a certain quality character don't simply cease to be who they are in times of trouble. Frankie, to continue to use him as an example, found trouble in his family’s money problems and made a choice to steal Eliza’s ring. However, he was completely undone by his choice. His character helped him to see who he was and who he was not. So, you see, we are searching for someone of generally low moral character, someone who, having murdered once, was not racked with guilt and hiding inside a whiskey bottle, but instead doubled down and killed again. Whoever killed the Withers, it wasn't to do with the quantity of Eliza’s lovers or Philip’s.”
“Those would have been passionate crimes,” Julia continued, “the work sloppy and the trail of clues somewhat easy to follow. No, this was quite premeditated, calculated. Whoever did this chose us, our friends, on purpose because they thought we could be manipulated to turn on each other. They don't know us all that well, do they, darlings, if they've discounted our lifelong friendships holding us together.”
The emotion in the room had shifted from the confusion about what was happening, fear for what was coming, and worries for Oscar and Cecil that had consumed them when they all first sat down. After Julia’s perfectly logical pep talk, all their countenances were a bit brighter.
Before anyone else could speak, Oscar and Cecil stumbled through the door, turning the somber, yet hopeful mood into a sudden burst of jubilance.
Opal was up and across the room before the door was even closed behind them. She pulled Oscar into her arms, hugged him tightly, then stepped out of the embrace and slapped him square across the left cheek.
“I'm so glad you are okay, brother, and I will murder you myself if you ever disappear on me like that again. Understand?”
He laughed and pulled her into a second hug. “I am sorry. I'll explain everything, but first, Cecil said Jimmie’s been arrested. How do we get the troublemaker sprung?”
Jimmie stepped into Oscar’s view. “You're a day late and a dollar short, old pal.”
There was much hubbub as the group pulled Cecil and Oscar the remainder of the way into the parlor.
Julia went straight to the heart of the matter. “Oscar. Did you kill Eliza and then flee the city to avoid getting caught?”
He laughed a hearty laugh in reply. “Of course not. What I did was drink myself into a stupor, make a rash decision to go to the countryside and then continued to drink some more. I'm very sorry to all of you, especially you, Opal. You deserved better than that from me. This chap—” he pointed his thumb at Cecil, “—got wind of where I'd gone from a mutual friend we have in Soho. He followed me, caught up with me, propped me up in a cold shower until I sobered, then threatened me within an inch of my life if I didn't sort myself out and come back to London to help my friends. I am sorry. I was carried away with the momentary, blissful idea I might be a father, then when I heard that Jimmie was the father, it all came down on me. I didn't love Eliza, but I'd determined to do right by her and the child. When she—when they were murdered I lost that future. When I found Jimmie was the actual father, I lost it all over again. It wasn’t right of me to forget that all of you have been suffering too. Please accept my apologies, dear ones.”
He looked expectantly, nervously about the room.
Everyone was up and hugging him tearfully.
“Of course, Brother,” Opal said. “We’ll not speak of it again.”
Her statement was followed by a rousing cacophony of “all is forgiven” and “never do it again” from his beloved friends.
Julia observed and her heart was full, but there were still questions that needed answering.
She turned to Cecil and gave him a grand hug. “Thank you for being ever diligent and bringing our foolish friend back to us. I hope you practically drowned him in that shower!”
More laughter ensued with a wink and a smile from Julia to Oscar.
Cecil responded deadpan. “He's quite lucky to be alive, this one. I nearly murdered him myself several times on the train back.”
The chatter of the reunited friends began to die down, now that it was well past two in the morning and Julia’s exhaustion finally caught up to her.
She yawned. “I’ll excuse myself for bed now, darlings. Tomorrow is a new day.”
Another round of hugs and Opal said, “Oh, Julia. I forgot in all of this that you received two letters today.” She walked into her parents’ study and returned with two sealed envelopes. The first was from her parents. It included a handwritten note from her father and something on heavier card stock.
She started with the note.
“Dearest Julia,
You misunderstood our letter and acted rashly, as usual. Return home, all is forgiven. We think, in time, you will see that Sidney Guinness is a good match for you, but your mother and I have agreed that as long as you continue to see him and at least give him the opportunity to prove himself to you, we will be satisfied. There will be some conditions upon your return as necessary to protect our family’s reputation amongst our society. You will need to give up your job at the paper. I’ll ensure that you find suitable activities to fill your time and you’ll not want for grand adventures. Come home, Julia. Your mother is very upset.
Signed,
Father
PS Included is an invitation that you received today from a Piccadilly Ladies Club. It might be just the thing to distract you from your other pursuits. Consider it?”
“Bloody hell,” Julia muttered under her breath as she climbed the stairs. When she got to her rooms, she saw that Opal’s maid had unpacked all of her things. Her room was arranged quite nicely. She considered her parent’s thinly veiled demands and laughed out loud to herself, feeling a bit mad from exhaustion. She glanced at the cardstock that was included in her parents’ letter, but instead of removing it from the envelope, she tossed all the letters on to her bureau.
She was exhausted and needed sleep.
Tomorrow was a new day, she thought again to herself. Whatever she couldn’t face tonight, she could face in the morning.
Chapter 10
Monday Morning
November 14, 1921
Goodall Residence
Mayfair, London
Julia woke around nine in the morning, feeling quite refreshed. Once she was fully awake, she basked in the glorious feeling that all her friends were found, safe, and there wasn’t a murderer in the group.
She threw back her covers and got up and ready for the day. She planned on dropping by the precinct to visit with Inspector Gibbs to see if there had been any new developments since she’d him last evening when she’d picked up Jimmie and informing him of Oscar’s return.
Getting ready for the day took longer than usual for her because she thought of Inspector Gibbs as she dressed and suddenly nothing in her collection of clothing and accessories felt adequate. Once she was ready and satisfied with her appearance, she noticed the letter on the bureau that she’d avoided looking at last night.
First, she looked at the invitation her father had included in his letter.
Miss Julia Barlow,
Your name has been submitted to our membership review committee as a potential candidate for membership. After review of your published articles and your character as attested to by the member who recommended you, it is with great pleasure that we extend an offer of exclusive membership to the Piccadilly Ladies Club.
Your presence at our membership gala is humbly requested.
8pm
Saturday, November 19, 1921
Piccadilly Circus, London
Her interest was piqued, but she had no time for a frilly ladies’ event. She was trying to solve a murder and establish her career. She tossed the invitation back on the dresser next to her parents’ note.
She picked up the other envelope and tore it open.
“To my Love Julia,
I spoke with your father yesterday and he mentioned that the two of you aren’t quite seeing eye to eye on certain things relevant to your future and that you have taken up temporary residence at the Goodall house. As my future wife, I took it upon myself to argue on your behalf. He mentioned that he wanted you to quit your time at the paper and he would allow you to return home to your life of comfort. No matter how I tried, I could not convince him to let you keep your position of employment. However, I should entreat you to return to your home, agree to my proposal. Once we are married, which can happen as quickly as you like, I’ll allow you to return to your position at the paper, at least for a time, until we are ready to have children. I want to enjoy your beautiful company before pregnancy and childbirth ravage your young exquisite body and would like to not share you with children for at least some time.
You see, there is a way for you to have all you desire and also please those around you.
I trust that you’ll accept this proposal straight away after seeing the sense I’ve laid out for you here.
With love,
Sidney
Julia stared at the patronizing, assuming note with shock and dismay. She was disgusted through and through. Once she’d quelled her emotions, she shoved the note into her bag and left immediately for Inspector Gibbs. A night’s sleep had done her well and she finally had all the pieces of the puzzle.
______
Monday Morning
November 14, 1921
Scotland Yard
London
“Julia Barlow, how lovely to see you. I was just about to ring you. How convenient that you stopped by.”
