A Tourist's Guide to Murder

by V. M. Burns

  “That explains why Lavender was carrying her luggage everywhere she went.” I wanted to smack myself for not thinking of this sooner.

  Nana Jo nodded. “Bella is her Yorkshire terrier.”

  “How on earth did she hide a dog?” Dorothy asked.

  Nana Jo chugged back her third drink. “It’s a tiny little thing. It can’t weigh more than five pounds.”

  Ruby Mae sipped a glass of wine. “Still, I can’t believe no one heard the dog.”

  She shrugged. “Beats me, but she’s a cute little thing and really doesn’t bark much.”

  I stared at Nana Jo. “I’m surprised D. I. Nelson let you remove the dog from the room.”

  Nana Jo avoided eye contact and hummed.

  I narrowed my eyes. “Nana Jo, how did you get the dog out of the room?”

  She spent a few moments looking everywhere but at me, but eventually she gave in and slumped down. “All right, the police had that yellow and black crime scene tape roping off the door, and there was a constable stationed in the hallway.” She tapped her fingers on the table. “So, I got the maid to let me into the adjourning room, and then I unlocked the connecting door and snuck in and got the bag with the dog, which, by the way, was under the bed.”

  I stared open-mouthed at my grandmother. “You removed evidence from a crime scene? You could go to jail for that.”

  “Look, the police had already been in the room.” She sat up straight. “If Detective Inspector Nelson was such a great detective, then why didn’t he find the dog?” She stared at me. “I mean, it was under the bed the entire time, and he didn’t even know. Plus, I was doing a humanitarian service. That poor little dog needed to eat and go potty.” She tilted her head to the side and gave me a sad expression. “If it were Snickers or Oreo who were left in a room all day with just a little food and water, wouldn’t you want someone to do the same thing?”

  When it came to manipulation and emotional blackmail, my family were experts. “Now I know where Mom gets it.”

  Nana Jo smiled. “If you can’t beat them, make them feel guilty.”

  The barmaid brought our food and another round of drinks, and we stopped talking and took care of our gastronomical needs. When the hunger was satisfied, we got down to business.

  Nana Jo pulled her iPad from her purse. “All right, let’s get this meeting started.”

  Hannah Schneider looked puzzled. “Meeting?”

  Ruby Mae pulled her knitting from her bag. “This is usually how all of our sleuthing meetings start.”

  Irma had spotted a single man at the bar and had turned in her seat so her legs were facing her prey, and she was making goo-goo eyes at her next victim.

  Nana Jo reached across the table and smacked her on the arm. “Will you pay attention.”

  Irma swore at the interruption but turned her attention back to the meeting. “Fine, but can we hurry up? I’m about to hook a Brit, and you’re cramping my style.”

  Nana Jo looked at her notes and then up at me. “Sam, you gave us assignments earlier, but with Major Peabody actually getting murdered, I’m not sure how you want to handle things.”

  “I suppose we should stick to our original assignments.” I glanced around. “Does everyone remember what they were?”

  Dorothy folded her arms. “I want a new assignment.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m not sure I can look at Oberst . . . I mean, Oscar again, let alone flirt with him enough to get him to spill his guts.”

  Nana Jo stared down her nose at her friend. “Dorothy, I know you’re upset, but this is serious business. This is murder.”

  Murder. The word tumbled around in my head. Someone had killed Major Horace Peabody and Prudence Habersham. I found it hard to believe that a few days ago I didn’t even know either one of them existed, but now here I was, sitting at a pub in London, trying to figure out who killed them.

  Nana Jo got my attention by waving a hand in front of my eyes. “Earth to Samantha.”

  I quickly returned to the here and now. “I’m sorry.”

  “What’s the matter?”

  “I don’t know. I guess I’m just questioning why we’re doing this.”

  Nana Jo put her iPad down. “What do you mean, why?”

  “We got involved in solving a few murders back home in North Harbor, but there was always a compelling reason for getting involved. Let’s face it, Stinky Pitt couldn’t find a killer who was standing naked in the middle of the street with a neon sign over his head.”

  Nana Jo and the girls nodded.

  Hannah looked confused. “Stinky Pitt?”

  Ruby Mae looked up from her knitting. “He’s the local detective in North Harbor, Michigan.”

  “Not the sharpest knife in the drawer?”

  “I’ve got sharper spoons.”

  I took a moment and tried to collect my thoughts. “We all know that Stinky . . . ah, I mean, Detective Pitt is incompetent. Back home, we got involved to keep him from arresting some innocent person . . . like me or Nana Jo. We’re in a different country, and no one is accusing any of us of killing Major Peabody or Prudence Habersham.” I sighed. “Scotland Yard is known all over the world for their ability to solve crimes.”

  Nana Jo leaned forward. “Do you honestly believe that Detective Inspector Rupert Nelson is capable of solving these murders?”

  I gave the matter a moment’s thought and then shook myself off. “I don’t know. I do know that I don’t really know Prudence Habersham or Major Peabody. I’m on vacation, and I want to enjoy it. I don’t necessarily want to spend this entire trip trying to track down a killer.” Even to my own ears, I sounded whiney. “Couldn’t we leave this one to the professionals. . . just once?”

  Nana Jo gave me a long stare. Then she closed her iPad and returned it to her purse. “Sam’s right. We don’t really know these people. Why should we care that they were cold-bloodedly murdered?”

  I shrank back in my seat at the heartlessness of the remark.

  Nana Jo reached out and squeezed my hand. “I didn’t mean it the way that came out. I just meant that maybe you’re right. D. I. Nelson looks about as bright as a burned-out light bulb, but that Detective Sergeant Templeton looks like one sharp cookie.”

  Ruby Mae nodded. “I’ll bet not much slips past her.”

  Dorothy looked from Nana Jo to me. “So, what are you saying?”

  Nana Jo patted my hand. “I’m saying, let’s leave this murder to the professionals and enjoy our vacation.”

  Irma smacked her hand on the table. “Hot da—”

  “Irma!”

  Irma broke out into a coughing fit. She reached over and took the glass of white wine I had been nursing for an hour and chugged it. She then stood up and wiggled to slide her skirt down. “I’ll catch you girls later. I’m going fishing.” She marched over to the bar, placed an arm around the shoulders of the single man she’d been ogling, and turned on her charm.

  Nana Jo shook her head. “That woman is man crazy.”

  We spent some time talking, drinking, and laughing. For the first time in days, I wasn’t thinking about murder and was enjoying thinking ahead to a visit to Torquay and the home of Agatha Christie.

  Murder was the furthest thing from my mind until Nana Jo nudged me. “Isn’t that D. I. Nelson?”

  I glanced at the door, and there stood Detective Inspector Nelson and Detective Sergeant Templeton. When they spotted us, they walked over to our table.

  “Hello, detectives. What a surprise. We didn’t expect—”

  Nelson gave me an icy stare that froze the words on my lips. He then turned to Hannah. “Hannah Schneider, you are under arrest on suspicion of the murder of Prudence Habersham and Major Horace Peabody.” He grabbed Hannah by the arm and pulled her to her feet. “You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defense if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court.”

  “What are you doing?” Nana Jo yelled. “You can’t be se
rious!”

  Templeton avoided making eye contact, and the slump of her shoulders told me she wasn’t happy about this, but Nelson was in charge.

  He pulled Hannah’s hands behind her back and handcuffed her. “Anything you do say may be given in evidence.” He pulled her forward, and the three marched out of the bar.

  To my dying day, I will never forget the stricken look on Hannah’s face. All of the noise stopped, and everyone turned to watch our friend arrested and humiliated. However, the indictment that will forever wring my heart was the look on Ruby Mae’s face as she turned to me. “Do you still think Scotland Yard will be able to catch the real killer?”

  Chapter 16

  We sat in shock for a few moments. It lasted until Nana Jo grabbed her purse. “Well, come on. We gotta go spring Hannah.” Apparently, we weren’t moving fast enough because she went into drill sergeant mode and started shouting orders. She tossed Ruby Mae a credit card. “Pay the bar tabs.” She turned to me. “Call your sister.” While heading for the door, she yelled, “Dorothy, grab Irma, and I’ll get us a taxi.”

  I glanced at the time before I called my sister. I pushed the number on speed dial and waited. Eventually, I heard Jenna’s voice. She spoke softly and quickly. I could tell this wasn’t a great time.

  “Sam, I can’t talk. I’m just about to speak at the Southwestern Michigan Bar Association dinner.”

  “It’s important.”

  “Are you dead?”

  “Jenna, I—”

  “I’ve got to give a speech in less than five minutes. So, unless someone’s dead, I—”

  “Actually, two people are dead.”

  That got her attention. “Is Nana Jo okay?”

  “Nana Jo’s fine, although she’s a bit frazzled.”

  “Ruby Mae, Irma, and Dorothy?”

  “We’re all fine.” I walked outside. “It’s Major Peabody, he owned the tour, and Mrs. Prudence Habersham, but—”

  “Did you kill them?”

  I stared at the phone. “Of course I didn’t kill them.”

  “Did Nana Jo kill them?”

  “No! Nana Jo didn’t kill them either.”

  “Then, why are you calling me?”

  “I’m calling because—”

  Nana Jo wrenched the phone from my hand. “Give me that.” She put the phone to her ear. “Now, listen here, Jenna. She’s calling you because we need legal advice. Neither Sam nor I killed anyone, and you know it. But the police just waltzed into a bar and arrested our friend, Hannah Schneider, who also didn’t kill them, by the way. However, innocence doesn’t seem to matter to Scotland Yard! They just handcuffed a poor recently widowed woman and marched her out of the pub and took her . . . well, I don’t know where they took her, but she’s alone and we can’t let some overbearing, smelly detective inspector just whisk our friend away without doing something. Now, you turn on that brain and tell Sam what to do or who we should contact or I’ll make the biggest international incident since the Boston Tea Party.” Nana Jo spotted a taxi and shoved the phone back at me while she went to the corner and practically hurled herself in the street.

  I put the phone to my ear. “Now you see what I’m dealing with.”

  The taxi didn’t stop, and Nana Jo let fly a string of curse words that I didn’t even know she knew.

  “Was that Nana Jo?” Jenna asked.

  “Yep. She was trying to hail a taxi. Look, Nana Jo’s right. Hannah didn’t murder those people either. I’m not sure what evidence they think they have, but . . . they’re wrong.”

  Jenna sighed. “Is Hannah an American?”

  “No. She’s British.”

  “If she were an American, you could call the American Consulate. Since she’s a British citizen, you’ll need to try and get her a lawyer. Although, I think they’re divided into two types. They have barristers and solicitors. She’ll need a barrister.” She sighed again. “Sam, you’re going to need to talk to someone there who can advise you. Sorry.”

  “Thanks. I appreciate the help, and good luck with your speech.”

  “Only you and Nana Jo could go on vacation and have two people murdered on your tour group.” Jenna chuckled. “Better you than me.”

  “Thanks.” I hung up.

  Nana Jo was still trying to hail a taxi and getting more upset.

  Irma walked up to her. “Here, let me do it.” She hiked up her skirt, slid her jacket off her shoulder, and stepped into the street.

  Within seconds, a black taxi skidded to a halt.

  Ruby Mae said, “You have got to be kidding me.”

  “We’ll never hear the end of this,” Nana Jo said.

  We hurried to get into the taxi.

  There was an awkward silence when the taxi driver asked, “Where to?”

  Everyone looked at me, and I said, “New Scotland Yard.”

  The taxi driver set the meter and pulled away from the curb.

  Under normal circumstances, I would have relished a trip to Scotland Yard. It would have provided a lot of useful information for my books. However, this wasn’t a normal circumstance.

  The name of Scotland Yard sent a shiver up my spine. However, when the taxi pulled up to the building, I felt a stab of disappointment. In my head, I knew my mental image of the famous Metropolitan Police Force was archaic. Policemen no longer walked around in Victorian uniforms, but the reality of modern day was still disappointing. Instead of the romanticized building visited by Hercule Poirot and Inspector Japp in the Agatha Christie novels I loved, I was confronted by glass . . . tons and tons of glass. New Scotland Yard was a glass-and-steel high-rise building. Apart from the sign, it could have fit into virtually any American city.

  Inside, and as we’d prearranged on the car ride, rather than asking for Detective Inspector Nelson, we asked for Detective Sergeant Templeton.

  Templeton didn’t keep us waiting long. She looked surprised but friendly. “How may I help you ladies?”

  “We’re here to check on our friend,” Nano Jo said. “Hannah Schneider didn’t murder anyone, and we’re not going to stand around and let that . . . that . . . lump of lard railroad our friend.”

  The corners of her lips twitched, but Templeton got them under control and didn’t let the laughter we saw in her eyes escape from her mouth. Although, she did cough several times. “Ladies, I can assure you that your friend isn’t being railroaded. In fact, she immediately requested legal advice and has refused to talk without it. Smart woman.”

  Nana Jo released a breath. “But, what does he have on her?”

  Templeton looked around. “Would you ladies care for some coffee or tea?”

  We were about to decline, but something in her manner made us realize that would be a mistake.

  She glanced at her watch. “There’s a diner not far from here that stays open pretty late to accommodate the Met. Why don’t I meet you ladies there?” She quickly gave us the address and turned to leave.

  We hurried outside and walked the short distance to the diner. We found a private table away from the window. After about fifteen minutes, Templeton hurried in and sat down at our table. “I could lose my job if Nelson knows I’m talking to you.”

  “Why?” I asked. “We’re just concerned for our friend.”

  We waited while the waitress took our coffee orders. She came back quickly with six cups of steaming hot coffee, sugar, and cream. We waited for her to leave before continuing.

  Templeton took a deep breath. “I’m sure you noticed that Nelson is a few sandwiches short of a picnic.”

  “Is that like saying a few fries short of a Happy Meal?” Nana Jo asked.

  Templeton chuckled. “Basically.”

  “Then, how’d he get to be a detective inspector?” Irma said. She leaned forward. “Is he sleeping with someone high up?”

  Templeton quickly put down her coffee and reached for her purse. “I shouldn’t be here. I need to—”

  Nana Jo reached out a hand to calm the policewoman. “Forgiv
e my friend; she’s an idiot. He’s obviously like Stinky Pitt.”

  Templeton looked confused. “Who is Stinky Pitt?”

  “He’s a nincompoop police detective in our hometown who got promoted to detective because of family connections, but if your D. I. Nelson is a few sandwiches short of a picnic, then Stinky Pitt is missing the entire picnic basket.”

  Templeton smiled. “Nelson is connected to an influential MP. I graduated top of my class.” She stared down into her coffee. “I was assigned to him to keep him from embarrassing himself or the Met, but he treats me like a glorified secretary.”

  I said, “You know Hannah Schneider didn’t murder those people.”

  She gave me a hard stare. “Let’s just say, I think it highly unlikely. I mean, her husband was a former copper. If nothing else, she would have enough knowledge to avoid getting caught.”

  “May I ask what evidence he has?”

  She looked as though she was sizing me up. Then, she leaned back in her seat. “What’s your interest?”

  I glanced around, and Nana Jo gave me a slight nod. I took a deep breath and explained that I owned a mystery bookshop but that we had unofficially helped our local police solve several murders.

  She squinted. “Detective Stinky Pitt allowed you to assist in his investigation?”

  “Not officially, but as long as we allow him to take the credit for solving the murders, then he hasn’t stopped us.”

  She glanced around the table and gave each of us a long glance.

  Nana Jo folded her arms. “I hope you aren’t one of those people who believe that just because we’re older that we must be ready for a nursing home.”

  “The last person who underestimated us ended up flat on his back with my size-ten shoe on his throat,” Dorothy said.

  “Actually,” I said, “Nana Jo and Dorothy are both black belts in two different martial arts.”

  “Plus, when I have my peacemaker with me,” Nana Jo said, “I can still outshoot any young whippersnapper who’s willing to put their money where their mouth is.”

  I pointed to Ruby Mae. “For some reason, people like to talk to Ruby Mae, and her extended family is huge.”