Murder in the Cards: A 1920s Historical Cozy Mystery (An Evie Parker Mystery Book 4)

by Sonia Parin

  Checking his watch, he gave a distracted nod. “Yes, I did.”

  While she sensed he wouldn’t divulge more than he could, Evie pressed him for more information. “Did you arrive in time?”

  “No, I’m afraid not. I’m sorry, Lady Woodridge. That is all I am permitted to say.”

  “Does that mean you are under police instructions?” she asked.

  “That is correct.”

  Pending an investigation, Evie assumed.

  “Please try to avoid upsetting the dowager. This is not the sort of news she should hear just yet,” he said.

  Bradley appeared and handed Dr. Browning his hat.

  “Not a word of this to the dowager,” Evie said when the doctor left.

  “Begging your pardon, milady,” Caro said, “but she’s bound to ask and her staff will have all the details by now. Or, at least, some sort of version of the events.”

  Evie turned to the butler. “Bradley.”

  “Yes, my lady.”

  “Please have a word with the downstairs staff. Everyone must tread with caution and refrain from mentioning anything about this unfortunate incident. The dowager is bound to ask for news, but you must do your utmost to distract her. Can I trust you to be discreet?”

  “Certainly, my lady.”

  She turned to enter the drawing room, but a knock at the front door had Evie swinging around. They all held their breaths as Bradley attended to the door.

  Standing at a distance, they were all at a disadvantage, unable to hear or see who it was. A moment later, however, Bradley closed the door.

  “The mailman, my lady. I believe he wished to get some information but I persuaded him to move on.”

  He set the letters on a silver tray and carried them into the drawing room. Evie, Tom and Caro followed and settled around the dowager who now sat by the window.

  “Thank you, Bradley. You can leave the letters on my desk. I shall attend to my correspondence later in the day when my mind has cleared.” Turning to Evie, she said, “Heavens, in my youth, I often heard my grandmama recommending the waters at Bath. Even though I knew the healing and calming properties of warm mineral springs assisted in one’s wellbeing, I never quite understood what she meant. Now… I think I should take myself to Bath for a few days.”

  Evie didn’t like the idea of the dowager traveling by herself or being alone. “Perhaps you can postpone that for the time being. I shall instruct Bradley to pack some clothes. I want you to come to Halton House with us. I cannot, in good conscious, allow you to remain here alone.” Evie looked around. “By the way, where is Sara?”

  Henrietta waved her hand. “Oh, she’s in town visiting with friends.”

  Sara, Lady Woodridge, Evie’s mother-in-law, would need to be informed. Evie added the task to her list and said, “Then it’s settled. You are coming with me.”

  “Oh, dear. I would hate to be a burden.”

  “Nonsense. You need to distract yourself and I… I need your help with the menus. I’m afraid I have made quite a muddle of it all. As it is, my granny will probably think I’m not even fit to run a honky-tonk.”

  The dowager raised her eyebrows. “Honky-what?”

  Evie dug around her mind. “I think you know them as coaching inns.”

  “Oh… I see.” Looking somewhat puzzled, the dowager added, “Is it just me or does that sound rather disreputable? My dear, is there something you are not telling me?”

  As far as distractions went, it served its purpose.

  Chapter Seven

  Evie left Caro in charge of organizing the dowager’s luggage and accompanying her back to the house. Meanwhile, she returned to Halton House with Tom. They only had a short distance to cover, yet the fact they remained silent appeared to make the journey longer.

  When they passed the gatehouse, Evie made a conscious effort to focus on admiring the surrounding countryside with its rolling hills and majestic trees. Heavenly spring sunshine, she thought.

  “I can smell it in the air. Freshly laundered linen,” Evie murmured.

  “Pardon?” Tom asked.

  Evie closed her eyes, drew in a deep breath, and tried to hold on to the feeling of quiet, simple enjoyment. “Oh, nothing.” She watched the house come into view. It looked resplendent in the sunshine, the windows sparkling as if calling out a cheerful greeting.

  Holding the passenger door open for her, Tom said, “I’ll meet you inside shortly. I need to stretch my legs.”

  “Yes, I don’t blame you. I wish I could join you, but I need to pave the way and prepare the others.”

  Hurrying up the few steps leading up to the portico entrance, Evie was too distracted by her thoughts to take notice of the footman who opened the door for her. When she did notice, it struck her as odd. Edgar rarely allowed anyone else to take charge of the task, but being preoccupied with the morning’s events, Evie decided not to ask for explanations.

  Removing her gloves, she glanced up in time to see Phillipa rushing toward her. “Oh, good. You’ve saved me the trouble of hunting you down.”

  “Yes, I’ve been keeping an eye out for you,” Phillipa said. “I wanted to talk to you before you went into the library.”

  Evie told herself to remain calm. Yet, she couldn’t help exclaiming, “Heavens! Has something happened?”

  “Oh, no… not really. Only, remember how Zelma Collins asked Edgar to play a role…”

  Evie gave a tentative nod. “Has he changed his mind?” She really couldn’t deal with another problem now or put any more energy into pacifying Edgar.

  “On the contrary. Zelma wanted to try something new. She has finished the first scene and now she wishes to try some unrehearsed lines.”

  “Ad libbing?” Evie said, her thoughts miles away.

  “Yes, and Zelma needs everyone to simply go with the flow. She believes she might gain some inspiration from the exercise.”

  Evie finished removing her gloves and told herself to focus on the here and now. “Are you about to tell me Edgar is currently in the library ad libbing?”

  “As a matter of fact, yes. And he’s rather good at it.”

  Evie handed her gloves and coat to a footman and followed Phillipa into the library. With everyone gathered in the one room, she would only have to make the announcement about the morning’s events once.

  “Ah, Ms. Evie Parker. What news do you bring from the village?” Edgar asked.

  Evie stopped in her tracks. A swift survey of the library placed the three scriptwriters all sitting by the fireplace. Edgar stood in front of them, a hand on the mantle and his other hand hitched on his coat pocket.

  Phillipa leaned in and whispered, “I suppose I should have warned you about that. Edgar is Lord Edgar and you are…”

  Evie gave her a brisk smile. “Yes, I think I know who I am.” Plain Evie Parker, she thought.

  “I hope you won’t mind too much. Zelma thinks we would all deliver some intriguing insights if we reversed roles or changed them slightly.”

  Evie took a deep swallow. “So, who are you playing?”

  Phillipa gave her a wide smile. “I’m Lady Phillipa and I’m playing the part of the relative no one talks about.”

  “M-my relative?”

  “Yes, there have been several attempts to lock me up in an asylum but I seem to hold some sort of power over the family. We haven’t quite figured out what. Since everyone ignores me, I tend to see and hear more than anyone, which means I know everyone’s secrets. Or, at least, I hope I do.”

  Evie turned toward Edgar. He remained in character for a second and then shifted.

  Seeing him about to offer an apology, Evie said, “Lord Edgar. Thank you for inviting me.”

  “Thank you,” Phillipa mouthed. “And… you actually live here as his poor relation.”

  “Oh… I see. My apologies.” Evie floundered. “So… Do I just say the first thing that comes to mind?”

  “Yes. That’s the idea.”

  Evie sifted through ev
erything that had happened and tried to figure out the best way to share the news about Mrs. Sheffield but her mind blanked when Zelma Collins rushed toward her.

  “Lady Woodridge. Thank you for going along with our little game. I hope it doesn’t inconvenience you.”

  “Well… I must say, it’s not the best timing. However…” Her shoulders lowered. “I suppose we could all do with the distraction.”

  Zelma smiled. “I’m so happy to hear you say so, my lady.”

  Evie remembered she had given Zelma leave to call her by her first name. Or had she? So much had happened since her guests’ arrival and even before then…

  Zelma continued, “Would we be imposing too much if we carried on throughout the day? We realize Edgar has duties to perform, but it would be ever so helpful if we could gather here for a couple of hours this afternoon and see what we can come up with.”

  “Yes, of course.” Evie had no idea what took possession of her when she said, “You might want to work out a schedule which will suit Edgar.” It seemed reasonable to bar all restrictions. After all, she had opened the doors to her home in goodwill. Excusing herself, she strode out.

  Heavens, what had she just walked into? Evie took a moment to gather her thoughts only to realize she had failed to share the news about Mrs. Sheffield and, most importantly, Henrietta’s involvement.

  Evie considered returning to the library, but then she looked up and saw that Henrietta and Caro had arrived and they were making a beeline for her.

  “There you are, Evangeline,” Henrietta said. “I told your maid I wished to spend a few moments in the library. I think a good book is what I need to take my mind off this morning’s distressing events.”

  Evie looked over her shoulder. She couldn’t let Henrietta walk in on that scene. Who knew how she would react… “Oh, but I’d hoped you would help me with the menus.”

  “If you insist. I don’t wish to burden you with my company. You know I’m quite capable of entertaining myself.”

  “Nonsense. You’ll be doing me a great favor by helping me.” Evie guided Henrietta away from the library. “Let’s go into the morning drawing room. Oh, Caro… I left my notes in the library. Would you mind fetching them for me, please?” She couldn’t think of any other way to direct Caro to go into the library without alerting Henrietta.

  Despite everything that had happened, Evie knew it would be best to continue on with the plans they had set into motion. The sooner Caro knew what the others were doing, the better. Her maid had already missed out on getting a new dress, Evie didn’t want her to also miss out on participating in the play. As for Henrietta…

  She would have to find a way to let her know what the scriptwriters were up to and hope Henrietta didn’t disapprove. Although, Evie couldn’t think of a reason why she would.

  “I’ll ring for some tea,” Evie said as they entered the drawing room.

  Henrietta walked toward the middle of the sun-filled room and looked around her.

  “Is something wrong?” Evie asked.

  The dowager made a gesture with her hand as if to diminish the significance of the thought she’d been entertaining. “Well, if you must know, being questioned by the police made me realize my days enjoying freedom might be numbered. In fact, I shall probably end my days in a dark prison cell.”

  Evie laughed. “Oh, Henrietta. How could you possibly think that?”

  Henrietta lowered her voice. “You should have seen the way the constable looked at me. At first, I thought he might have been indulging me as if I had been relating a fanciful tale. Gradually, however, he seemed to become more serious. When he drew out his notebook, I knew he meant business.”

  “Where was Mrs. Sheffield while this was happening?” Had she already died? No, of course not. Evie ran through the sequence of events and realized the doctor must have arrived soon after Henrietta had left Mrs. Green’s establishment. That meant Mrs. Sheffield had died within those few minutes. Or at least, by the time they had reached the dower house when they had heard the ambulance siren…

  “Let me think.” Henrietta looked up and brushed a finger across her chin. “Oh, yes. She’d collapsed onto a chair… quite unceremoniously. In fact, I remember her moaning. Mrs. Green rushed to her side and fanned her.”

  “If you must know,” Evie said, “I’m having trouble believing any of this.”

  “Oh, but it’s all too true. When I saw her raise her parasol…”

  Evie’s eyes widened with shock. “Pardon?”

  “Oh, yes. She meant to attack me, I’m sure.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I parried her attack with a countermove.”

  “You did what? But… How?”

  “I raised my own parasol and intercepted her blow.” Henrietta gave her a small smile. “My fencing instructor would have been proud of me. It has been many years since I held a foil…” She made a thrusting gesture with an imaginary sword. “But I remembered enough.”

  “And?”

  Henrietta’s eyes brightened and she lifted her chin. “I disarmed her, of course. Yes, indeed, Monsieur Bouchard would have been proud.”

  “Dare I ask what happened next?”

  “She cried out and, moments later, she collapsed onto the chair as if her legs had buckled from right under her. I believe she succumbed to the element of surprise. I must say, I feel rather annoyed with the constable. He appeared to think I had made it all up but Mrs. Green confirmed it all. Only then did he believe me. I’m almost inclined to take exception to his lack of trust.”

  Evie gestured to the chairs near the window. At some point, she would have to tell Henrietta about Mrs. Sheffield dying. Looking out of the window, she wondered if Tom had deliberately chosen to make himself scarce in order to avoid the inevitable scene.

  Henrietta, bless her soul, offered a change of subject. “How are your writers getting on?”

  Evie debated whether or not to tell Henrietta about the interesting and unexpected development. In the end, she decided in favor of it, thinking it would work well as a distraction for the dowager. If she chose to disapprove, so much the better. It would take the focus away from her confrontation with Mrs. Sheffield and give her something else to think about.

  “I’m glad you brought it up.” As Evie spoke, she could see Henrietta doing her best to pay attention, but Evie couldn’t be fooled. The dowager’s focus remained elsewhere, making it inadvisable to share the rest of the news with her.

  Chapter Eight

  “Chaos often breeds life, when order breeds

  habit.” – Henry Adams

  Tom returned a few minutes before the lunch gong rang.

  When Henrietta heard it, she sighed. “I hope your guests won’t think me rude. I am going to retire for a rest. I’m not feeling particularly hungry. Please make my excuses.”

  When the dowager left, Tom murmured, “You still haven’t told her.”

  Evie shook her head.

  “She’ll need to know eventually.”

  “Are you offering to tell her?” Evie asked and wished she could delegate the task of breaking the news to the dowager.

  “I think it would be best coming from you.”

  “In that case, I don’t see the point of mentioning it until the police decide how Mrs. Sheffield died, if indeed they are even looking into the death. I imagine Mrs. Sheffield had some sort of pre-existing condition no one knew about and that brought about her demise. If I tell Henrietta now, she might think she was somehow responsible.”

  “You’re really concerned about the dowager.”

  “Of course, I am. I’ve never seen her looking so frail.”

  Tom’s eyebrows rose slightly.

  “Well, she didn’t look frail when she told me how she fended off Mrs. Sheffield’s attack, but earlier, she appeared to be in a state of shock.” It hadn’t really surprised Evie. Women like Henrietta were not accustomed to verbal confrontations, in fact, Evie struggled to remember if she’d ever heard
the dowager raising her voice or even arguing.

  “Fended off an attack?” Intrigued, Tom invited her to share the tale, which she did as they made their way to the dining room.

  Normally, she would have attended to her guests, making sure everyone found their way, but she trusted Phillipa would take good care of them, and she had. When they entered the dining room, the others were all finding their places at the table.

  “Ah, Evie Parker, what news do you bring from the village?” Edgar said as she made her way toward her place at the table. Her butler had his back to her, so he hadn’t actually seen her entering the dining room.

  “Heavens,” Evie murmured under her breath, Edgar had taken his ad libbing to heart. Taking her seat, she said, “Lord Edgar, I have some troubling news.”

  Startled, Edgar swung around. His surprised expression suggested he had been practicing his lines and confirmed Evie’s suspicion he hadn’t expected her to walk in at that precise moment.

  “My apologies, my lady. I did not see you enter.”

  “Do carry on, Edgar,” she encouraged.

  Bowing his head slightly, he continued his task of overseeing the footmen.

  She gave the others an acknowledging nod. Zelma Collins sat directly opposite Evie with Bernie and Ernestine sitting at either side of her. While Phillipa took her place next to Evie.

  “My lady,” Zelma Collins said, “your butler has displayed exceptional thespian skills. Not only has he provided a unique perspective for his character but he has also succeeded in reinvigorating our play, taking it to a new level.”

  “I’m very pleased to hear you say so.” Evie caught Edgar’s small smile and decided to throw caution and propriety to the wind. “Edgar, please feel free to continue participating. I’m sure the footmen will be only too happy to step in and help you out. In fact, I think you should join us for lunch.”

  “Lunch, my lady?”

  “Yes. Pull up a chair. If I am going to participate, I need to be fully conversant with all the characters.”