Death Between the Pages

by Beth Byers

  “I don’t know,” Robert told Joseph. “But I have to wonder why she would have been fearing for her life. She was only going to a tea on a Saturday afternoon. What possible trigger could have pushed him to confront her on the way to an afternoon tea? And if he wasn’t attacking her, what possible motive could she have for attacking him, knowing she’d lose? Joseph, it just doesn’t make sense.”

  “We don’t know what happened,” Joseph told Robert. Then in sheer mercy he said, “I hardly believe she was the one who injured him.”

  Constable Rogers, who they’d both forgotten, grunted. “Why? Abused girl, mean cousin, found her red-handed, seems to be it’s a straightforward crime, especially with the aunt.”

  “That aunt is as believable as a traveling salesman with low sales,” Robert snapped. Joseph eyed him and Robert ducked his head. Joseph understood that his brother’s infatuation with Evelyn Hobbs was causing him to lash out, but he needed everyone to keep calmer heads.

  Before he could answer, Charles and Georgette arrived. Georgette’s gaze traveled the room, and she held up a basket. “We’ve food.”

  “Oh, I had hoped,” Joseph said. He stood to take the basket and began unpacking it.

  “Did we come upon you discussing the likelihood of Miss Hobbs’s guilt?” Charles asked.

  “Or lack thereof,” Robert countered.

  “But the aunt says that she found Miss Hobbs murdering her son,” Rogers said, sounding baffled. “We’ve a witness.”

  “With what weapon?” Joseph asked, feeling the exhaustion of the crime. “What we know for sure is that Mr. Hobbs was hit over the back of the head and stabbed three times. The theory is that someone struck him unawares and then stabbed him thereafter.”

  “But he staggered away from the initial crime scene,” Rogers said. “Miss Hobbs could have discarded the knife and then followed him. When she was found, she pretended to be saving him.”

  “Only,” Robert shot out, “even I heard Mrs. Lenz say that Evelyn was calling for help. Why call for help to be discovered with the body. It makes far more sense that someone hit Hobbs, stabbed him and he staggered away only to collapse near his house where he was going for help.”

  “Whereupon,” Georgette said, “Miss Hobbs left to walk to our house for tea, discovered her cousin, and called for help.”

  “Then who stabbed him?” Rogers asked. “Why would the aunt lie?”

  “Because she’s horrible,” Robert told him. “She saw her niece, made an assumption, and is sticking to it. Why would Evelyn lash out, all of the sudden, dressed for an afternoon tea and with an appointment?”

  Rogers didn’t argue, but it was evident he wasn’t convinced. “With her swearing that Miss Hobbs was murdering her son and the Lenzes not countering, we have to keep Miss Hobbs as our main suspect.”

  Robert started to protest and Joseph held up his hand.

  “A suspect, perhaps,” Joseph said, “but we have barely begun investigating. We do know, however, that Hobbs is a man who was not well-liked. I’ve witnessed him myself being violent with someone.”

  “Don’t forget,” Georgette added, “he is a very large man. Broad as a mountain, more than foot taller than Evelyn Hobbs, I understand. Even if she struck him as hard as she could, driven by madness and fear, she is a small woman. Imagine me striking him. Could I have rendered him so damaged in that first, surprised strike that he’d collapse so I could stab him? I couldn’t do that.”

  “But you’re very far along in your expectancy,” the constable said.

  “Yes, but Miss Hobbs is injured. Perhaps a large belly and an injured shoulder aren’t equal, but I think we need to remember that she has another injury. Year and years of being pushed around by this man and his mother.”

  “That I didn’t know.” Constable Rogers rubbed at his chin with a frown. “We only have her word for it, though.”

  “And the injuries,” Robert said. At the constable’s blank look, Robert gave him a full account of the bruising and hurts Evelyn had sustained even before her aunt attacked her.

  “So you all are saying that the Detective Inspector should ignore the information we have?”

  “Perhaps,” Charles said calmly, glancing at Joseph, Rogers, and then finally Robert. “We cannot unduly weigh the testimony of Mrs. Hobbs, which doesn't quite add up. Investigate, follow all paths. If Miss Hobbs didn’t try to kill her cousin, who did? What evidence exists besides the aunt’s word?”

  “What happened to the weapon?” Robert demanded.

  “Who else would have the reason and the ability to stun Mr. Hobbs?” Georgette added.

  Robert cleared his throat. “Charles and I saw the man lurking outside of someone’s house when we came home late. And Joseph saw him attempting to assault a fellow outside of Scotland Yard. Even his best friend said that Warren was a destroyer of happiness. Perhaps he was destroying someone else’s happiness? Perhaps the fellow he attacked decided to get his revenge?”

  “You saw him where?” Joseph asked.

  Robert glanced at Charles.

  “We’d probably have to make that walk again,” Charles admitted. “It was dark. We were tired. He was lurking near a house and ran off when I called out.”

  “I don’t like that,” Joseph said. “We’re going to pursue this as though Miss Hobbs isn’t the killer, Rogers.”

  “But the aunt—” Rogers began.

  “The most compelling argument I’ve heard is that Miss Hobbs wouldn’t have been able to strike him down. I think we need to have a doctor look at it, the wound, all of it, but until then, we’ll go with my gut instinct. And it says, she’s too small, and the weapon is the key.”

  “We’d like to take her home,” Georgette told Joseph.

  He stared at her in shock and then glanced to Robert, who shook his head. This wasn’t Robert’s engineering.

  “Lucy,” Charles told his nephews. “She saw the bruises, she’s convinced Miss Hobbs is innocent, and Georgette and I are of a similar opinion. The strongest evidence you have that Miss Hobbs was doing something other than trying to save her cousin was in the flawed testimony of a woman who left her dying son to go to the pub.”

  “Take her home then,” Joseph said. “Keep an eye on her. We’ll see what we can find out.”

  GEORGETTE AARON

  Georgette followed Robert into the doctor’s office with Charles just behind her with the basket holding the rest of the meal they’d brought. Dr. West was sitting in the waiting room, leaned back against the wall, legs crossed, sleeping. His head lifted at the bell and he looked up blearily.

  “We brought tea and food,” Georgette told him.

  Gratitude crossed Dr. West’s young face, and Georgette wanted to cross to him and shake him. Was he leading on her Lucy by accepting her help so often? Would he break her Lucy’s heart?

  “Dr. West,” Georgette asked before anyone could stop her, “do you think it’s possible Miss Hobbs was capable of striking down Mr. Hobbs?”

  Dr. West gaped at Georgette and then slowly shook his head. “I hardly think so. He fought me before I was able to sedate him. He was out of his mind, and he shoved me into the wall so hard I’m sure bruises are forming.”

  “After he was stabbed, he’s that strong?” Robert tried and failed to contain a relieved tone.

  “Is that what you believe?” Miss Hobbs croaked from the doorway. “That I killed him?”

  “No,” Robert shot back, aghast.

  “Robert just defended you strenuously to the constables,” Georgette told her. “And then helped convince them that we might bring you home and look after you. I am Georgette Aaron.” Georgette let go of Charles’s arm to approach Miss Hobbs. “What an ordeal you’ve had. Won’t you let me give you a warm bed and a hot cup of tea and a safe place to stay?”

  Miss Hobbs’s bottom lip trembled. The pretty green eyes were surrounded by dark circles and were red from crying, but they shone with an unexpected hope. “You would do that for me?”

&nb
sp; “Of course,” Georgette said. “I believe there should be no talking. You had better save your voice for the detective, who will have questions at some point tomorrow.”

  Miss Hobbs nodded and then looked to Dr. West.

  “You’ll be better there than here,” he told her. “We’re not well-equipped to keep patients as comfortable as they’d be elsewhere, and I happen to be well aware of how kind the Aaron family is. Prepare to be spoiled, Miss Hobbs.”

  She started to reply, closed her mouth and shook her head, but Georgette could only guess that, given what they’d discovered, Miss Hobbs had never been spoiled.

  The journey back to their house was a quick one with the late hour reflecting that most people had tucked themselves in for the night. Miss Hobbs sat in the back of the auto, quiet and downcast. It was only minutes before they were bringing Miss Hobbs inside, tucking her into a spare bedroom with chicken soup, hot tea, and a pitcher next to her bed.

  She curled up in the darkness and one of Georgette’s dogs leapt onto the bed to provide comfort.

  “You’ll find Susan to be an attentive companion,” Georgette said. “If you need anything, Lucy and Janey are across the hall and Charles and I are nearby.”

  Miss Hobbs’s lips trembled again as Georgette left their guest as comfortable as she could be with her cousin dying, her aunt announcing Miss Hobbs’s status as a murderer, and her new homeless state.

  14

  ROBERT AARON

  “Would you like to get into trouble with me?” Robert asked Janey. Her dark eyes widened with glee and her only answer was to leap into the auto with Robert and look up at him with excitement.

  “Where are we going?”

  Robert glanced at Janey and then sighed. “Hobbs died last night, Janey. Evelyn is a suspect for his murder.”

  “She’s the girl you love?” Janey asked, tucking her feet onto the auto seat and wrapping her arms around her legs.

  With a pause, Robert tried to identify how he felt. He knew that Janey was too observant to lie to, so he said, “I think she’s someone I could love, but no I don’t love her. I do, however, think she’s innocent.”

  Janey stared at Robert for too long, and then she nodded. “I went into her room this morning. She was crying. I asked her if it was because she didn’t have somewhere to live.”

  “What did she say?”

  “She said she’s been extraneous for the whole of her life and that sometimes it was harder to bear than others. She was having trouble talking, so I couldn't ask her what it meant.”

  “Do you know what extraneous means?” Robert asked.

  Janey shook her head, and her demanding gaze insisted upon an explanation.

  “It’s like you don’t matter, Jane. As though you’re extra, unnecessary, and probably unwanted.”

  Janey didn’t say anything to that but she was quiet as they drove from Charles’s house to the street where Robert had seen Warren Hobbs on the way home from the train. Robert had gotten up early that morning and found the houses again. He’d even crossed the line of being a good neighbor and lurked in the space between the two houses himself, finding Hobbs’s oversized boot marks. It had been a while, but he was a big man, and he’d left deep, clear marks in the ground.

  Robert had returned to the auto to watch the house until he’d seen a family leave and walk towards the church. The man and wife walked next to each other with five daughters who ranged behind them. The first two had to be nearly full grown and then there was a break between the children, with one around Janey’s age, just under twelve years old. The next one was a little smaller, and one who looked to be under five years old.

  Robert watched the other house for a while and finally an older couple left. They were alone except for one adult who trailed them. Robert had no idea if he was looking at a grown son, a boarder, or a visiting relative. The man was perhaps young enough to have crossed paths with Warren Hobbs, but Joseph would need to follow that path.

  Janey, however, was another story. Robert glanced at her as they watched the folks returning from church. “Do you know those girls?”

  Janey’s head tilted and she nodded. “That’s Emmaline Yancey that’s my age. The one littler than her is Bethany. I don’t know the names of the older ones or the little one.”

  “Do you think that you could invite her to go for a walk with you?”

  “What am I supposed to find out?”

  “Tell her that your cousin Joseph is investigating the murder and ask what she’s heard. See if they knew Hobbs. Jane, it’s important you don’t tell her, but I saw Hobbs outside of their house, and he was lurking.”

  Janey nodded and Robert sat back in the auto as she walked up to the family, hooked her arm through Emmaline’s and they both spoke to the parents. There were wide-eyed, pleading looks cast at them and then the two girls sedately walked down the street together. As soon as the rest of the Yancey family went inside their house, Janey and Emmaline darted off, letting their energy loose as though they’d been held captive. They disappeared while Robert waited, watching the other house. The second family returned from church and disappeared inside but not before the man with the older couple cast a look towards Robert.

  Robert frowned but he didn’t leave. After a good hour, the younger man stepped outside and crossed to Robert’s auto. He knocked on the windshield and Robert exited the vehicle.

  “You lost?”

  Robert considered how to reply and then decided to tell the truth. “Trying to figure out why the recent murder victim was lurking outside of your house.”

  The younger man paused and then carefully replied, “It wasn’t our house.” He glanced back at the Yancey place, back to Robert, and then said, “None of my business.”

  Robert wasn’t a detective and knew he had no ability to push the matter. Another lead for Joseph to follow up. Robert nodded. “I’m sure you’ll hear more on the matter.”

  The man huffed. “Yesterday, I took my parents to a play in London. We were with friends. That Hobbs fellow deserved to be killed, but I didn’t do it and neither did my parents.”

  Robert didn’t argue and the man’s challenging gaze had him stepping back and holding up his hands. Why had he said what he’d said? Hobbs deserved to be murdered? What was he doing to the Yancey family or home that had their neighbors wishing for his death?

  Robert would have asked, but he could tell that the other man wasn’t going to answer further questions to a random stranger who had been lurking outside of his home.

  JANEY THORPE

  “Why weren’t you at church?” Emmaline’s hair was pulled back with a barrette and curled, and Janey felt a flash of jealousy. Unlike Marian and Lucy, who were quite lovely, Janey was as plain as Georgette. On Georgette, however, it only took a little while to realize she was pretty. When Janey had told Georgette just that, she’d laughed and said it was love that was obscuring Janey’s vision.

  If that was so, not very many people loved her, and she’d always be plain. She had to find out some other way to stand out because as pretty and nice as Emmaline was, she was very, very boring.

  “My family is helping the doctor, and Charles said it would be better if we stuck close to home.”

  Emmaline laughed, a pretty tinkle that edged Janey with jealousy. “Then why are you here?”

  “Oh, my cousin Robert wanted to go for a ride, and when I saw you, I asked if we could stretch our legs.”

  “I didn’t think my parents would let me, but you have the orphan benefit. Mother always says you’re a poor mite, but I think living in the old Essent house would be nice.”

  Janey had to hold back her anger in order to get what Robert wanted, but she was prepared to box Emmaline’s ears at the next opportunity.

  “Did you hear about the man who died?” Janey asked, low and secretive, which was the best way to get Emmaline to whisper back.

  Emmaline’s eyes widened. “Is that who you’re helping? His mom?”

  Janey shru
gged and then leaned in. “Who do you think killed him?”

  Emmaline frowned. “I heard that the girl who lived with them did.”

  “His cousin?” Janey shook her head. “She’s too little. Did you ever see him?”

  For this question, Janey made sure her gaze was on Emmaline, who blushed and glanced away. Boring Emmaline might be, but she was a terrible liar and she was getting ready to lie.

  Emmaline started to reply, but Janey grabbed her arm, looked into her eyes and said, “You have seen him! Do you know him?”

  Emmaline bit down on her bottom lip and she tried again to turn away.

  “Tell me!” Janey hissed. “And I’ll tell you what I know. I bet if you help solve the murder, Tommy Jones will ask you to sit with him at the next picnic.”

  Janey felt a little bit bad about that lie, but sometimes you had to choose the most important thing, even though she knew Tommy Jones thought that all girls were gross and he wanted to play cricket with Stephen Banks and win the prize for the footrace.

  “Do you think so?”

  “I don’t see why he wouldn’t be impressed.” Janey was glad she wasn’t lying that time. He should be impressed. Especially with her. She’d already solved one murder and when she helped solve this one, she’d be almost as good as Georgette was at solving crimes.

  “I’m not supposed to tell,” Emmaline said, and Janey barely held back crowing.

  “You can tell me,” Janey said, trailing off as if she wouldn’t tell. She would tell and she already felt bad about how much she’d led Emmaline astray.

  “My sister…”

  Janey stared, waiting. Her sister what? Knew him? Why would her sister have anything to do with him? Janey had seen him when he’d been yelling at Evelyn, and he was big, hairy, and mean looking.

  “They’re in love. Annemarie says she’ll never love again. She’s in mourning and only Melinda and I know.”

  “But he was old,” Janey said. “Like as old as Robert and he had so much hair.”

  “Annemarie says that made him manly. Like someone who could defend his family against invaders.”