by Jane, Bettie
“Meredith, how nice to see—”
“Shut up, Eddie. Where is Millie?”
He shrugged, seemingly unfazed by Meredith’s open hostility. “Probably shopping. Isn’t that what you folks from the West End like to do while the rest of the city scrounges for enough work to feed their families?”
“The only thing you could be accused of scrounging for is handouts from actual hard-working men…and women. Now, where is my sister? I know you keep tabs on her every move.”
Julia thought she’d seen the worst of Meredith at the coroner’s office, but that had been mild compared to the way she spoke to her brother-in-law. How could Millie, a staunch supporter of women’s rights, be married to someone like this?
“I haven’t seen her since she left this morning. Around nine. She said she might be going to see you today.”
“You haven’t seen her since this morning?”
He shook his head no.
Inspector Gibbs stepped up next to Meredith and spoke too directly to Millie’s husband.
“Are you Eddie Howard, Millie Howard’s husband?”
“Yeah, what’s it to you?”
“I’m Inspector Gibbs. A woman’s body was found this morning on the steps outside the parliament building. Among the items found near her body was a purse with Millie Howard’s identification. I need to find out who the woman is.”
“Parliament, you say? Are you sure it’s not Millie?” Julia thought she heard a touch of disappointment in his voice. No wonder Meredith hated him.
“It’s not Millie. I saw the body, Eddie. No birthmark.” Meredith sounded exasperated.
“Right, then. Very good. Poor Millie. Glad it’s not ‘er.”
That sounded like regret. What a strange family.
“Mr. Howard,” Jacob continued. “It’s quite urgent that I speak with your wife. Do you have any idea when you can expect her to return home?”
“I dunno. Sometimes she don’t come home at all. Try down at the WSPU headquarters. Them two spend most of their time down there, plottin’ against the men.”
“Do you have any idea who might have access to Millie’s personal effects?”
“Could be any of ‘er lady friends.” He shrugged. “You’ll have to ask ‘er.”
Inspector Gibbs and Julia turned to leave, but not before Meredith got in one more dig at her brother-in-law. “You tell her to call me when she turns up, Eddie. I mean it. Or you’ll live to regret it.”
“Yeah, yeah. You and your mouthy sister. Peas in a pod, I say. Be just fine with me if the whore never came back.”
Then he slammed the door in her face.
Meredith looked murderous. Julia towed her along behind her, out of the building and out of reach of Eddie Howard. More for his safety than for Meredith’s.
Why do the unpleasant people get to live on to old age, I wonder?
With a sigh, Julia climbed into the backseat of the Inspector’s auto. “To the WSPU then, Inspector?”
“I suppose so.”
“I’ll come along too,” Meredith informed them. “I need to find my sister and tell her that she needs to leave that bloody fool before I am forced to commit murder.”
“I might have to help you with that,” Julia said. “He seems simply awful.”
The Inspector cleared his throat. “Ladies, need I remind you that I am an inspector with the Scotland Yard. You can’t threaten someone in my presence. I’d have to make an official report about it. Especially someone potentially involved in an ongoing murder investigation.”
Julia leaned forward from her spot in the back seat and rested her hand on his shoulder. “Now, now, Jacob. First of all, you know he’d deserve it. Second, we are writers—Meredith and I—or have you forgotten the ladies club that we have in common? We write and sometimes we concoct fictional stories, usually over tea, although Meredith and I disagree on the proper way to take tea. She seems to be quite fond of the American abomination of tea without milk and a boatload of honey, while I prefer the much more cultured version with a healthy dose of milk and some lavender for the perfect amount of sweetness. Meredith, perhaps you’d feel less homicidal if you took your tea properly.”
Meredith laughter heartily and Julia continued.
“Jacob, I assure you that you needn’t worry about poor Eddie Howard. He’s simply a character in our tea-fueled stories. Isn’t that right, Meredith?”
“Quite right,” Meredith agreed. “Quite right, although your taste in tea is debatable. Perhaps you should give my method a chance.”
Meredith and Julia spent the rest of the drive to WSPU spinning the tale of the murder of a middle-aged buffoon on the East End of London who was a good-for-nothing bum. They named him Edward and called him Eddie for short. Inspector Gibbs was beside himself with frustration but stopped commenting beyond a final exasperated statement.
“Julia Barlow, I should think I’ll live to regret bringing you along.”
She replied with a smart, “I highly doubt that, Inspector.”
The echo of Meredith’s laughter followed them into the WSPU headquarters.
Chapter 3
4:45 pm
December 20, 1921
WSPU Headquarters
London
The brief moment of cheer the women experienced on the drive left as quickly as it had appeared once they arrived at the Woman’s Social and Political Union. The walls of the lobby were lined with posters proclaiming the desire for women to receive the right to vote and portraits of the current and former presidents of the WSPU.
The woman working the desk looked at the threesome suspiciously. Julia wasn’t surprised. The relations between the police and this radicalized arm of the women’s suffrage movement was well known to be strained, if not fully combative.
“Can I help you?” She was quite a bit older than Julia, evidence of the years lining her eyes and lips. Julia was certain this woman had seen her fair share of trouble in her lifetime.
“My name is Inspector Gibbs. I’m looking for Mrs. Millie Howard. Her husband mentioned that she might be here.”
“I haven’t seen her, but I will check her office. May I ask what this is in regard to, Inspector?”
“Official police business, Miss…?”
Her face tightened in even deeper suspicion at his answer.
“Ms. Chapman,” she corrected. “Sylvia Chapman. I’ve never been married. One moment.”
She stepped away from the front station and disappeared behind a corner. She was gone for only moments. “As I suspected, Millie Howard is not here. Will that be all?”
“I’m her sister,” Meredith chimed in. “I’m worried about her. Surely you must have some idea where she might have gone.”
Sylvia stared at Meredith for a long moment as if trying to read her thoughts before she finally nodded, apparently having seen something in Meredith’s eyes that agreed with her.
“I’ll check her appointment schedule. A moment, please.” She left the room again and returned carrying a purse and what looked like an appointment book.
She opened the book and scanned the page. “According to this, Millie and her associate Sarah should be having drinks at the Candlelight Club tonight with potential donors.”
She held up the purse she’d brought out of Millie’s office. “This is Sarah’s purse, though. She hasn’t been in since this morning. Sometime before 11am.”
Jacob and Julia exchanged a look.
Oh no. Is the body Sarah’s?
Inspector Gibbs reached across the desk to take the small purse. Sylvia reluctantly handed it over.
He fished out an ID, and Julia could see from her position next to him that it was indeed Sarah Brook’s.
Meredith noticed at the same time and her face visibly paled. “Oh, no.”
“What?” Sylvia asked, her gray eyes looking concerned instead of annoyed for the first time since they’d arrived at her desk.
“Inspector?” Meredith asked. “I think it is quite
urgent that we find my sister.”
“I would certainly agree with you, Miss Watson. Let’s get to the Candlelight Club at once. Sylvia, I greatly appreciate your assistance. I will take Sarah Brook’s purse into my custody. Should she turn up, I’ll need to speak to her immediately. Please direct her to our headquarters, and I’ll return her purse to her immediately.”
“Yes, Inspector.” It was as if Sylvia recognized the urgency in their voices because her irritation was now completely gone and she was exceptionally cooperative. “Is there anything else you can tell me, sir?”
“You were a wonderful help, Sylvia. Thank you for assistance. I’m Jacob Gibbs, and any information about either Millie Howard or Sarah Brook’s whereabouts can be forwarded to me at Scotland Yard.”
“Yes, of course. Good luck to you. I’ll be on the lookout for both of them.”
With that, Julia and company returned to Inspector Gibbs auto and rode in a tense silence to the Candlelight Club. Her stomach growled reminding her that it was nearly time for dinner.
Once inside, they were overwhelmed with the sound of big band music and the dull roar of the excited dancing crowd who were, by the looks of them, up to their gullets in gin.
“Miss Watson,” the Inspector asked, “do you see either Mrs. Howard or Miss Brook?”
She scanned the crowd. “I don’t see them yet. I’ll check the ladies room.” She immediately left to the back of the club.
“Julia!”
Her best friend, Edith, called to her from across the club, somehow reaching a pitch high enough to be heard over the sounds of the trumpets and drums. She reached Julia and gave her a giant, sweaty hug. “I was hoping you’d come out tonight! Oh, good, you brought Jacob! C’mon, let’s dance!”
Julia hugged her almost-constantly overzealous friend and wished for the briefest moment that she could forget about the murder and join in with Edith’s festivities.
“I’m working right now, lovey. Sorry.”
Edith, always perceptive, eyed Jacob who was across the room talking with a bartender. “I see. I hope everything is okay?”
“It will be, thank you for asking, darling. Say, you haven’t seen Sarah Brook around have you? Or Millie Howard?”
She shook her head. “No, I haven’t seen Millie…she doesn’t come around to our neighborhood anymore since she married that fellow from the East End. Eddie something or other, I think it was? Oh, Howard, that was what you said, wasn’t it? And Sarah Brook, you say? I don’t think I know who that is.”
“They were supposed to be here for drinks tonight, raising money for the WSPU. Meeting with a couple of donors.”
Edith shrugged. “Sorry, chickie, haven’t seen them. I’ll let you know if I do though. Do you have time to say hi to Opal and Mattie? They are here too, and we’ve all been talking about how we barely see you these days.”
“Maybe just a minute.” But she didn’t move quite yet. “Do you remember meeting Meredith Watson last month? The president of the PLC?”
“Sure I do.”
“She’s here with the Inspector and me, and it’s somewhat urgent that we find either Sarah or Millie tonight, so if you happen to hear anything about either of them, will you be sure to let me know?”
“Of course.”
As if on cue, Mattie and Opal found them, and they traded hugs. Once they were caught up on Julia’s request to keep an ear to the ground for Millie and Sarah, the conversation turned to more cheerful topics.
“How’s Oscar, Opal?” Julia asked. “I swear I never see him around the house. You’d never know we were all roommates.”
“Oh, he’s fine. He and Cecil took some friends to our parents’ cottage at St. Ives. He’ll be staying there through the Christmas holiday but back in time for our New Year’s Eve bash—”
“Which is going to be completely divine and wholly sinful, don’t you think?” Mattie butted in, oddly exuberant. Odd, that is, until Julia put together the slur in her words with her enthusiasm. A tipsy Mattie was fun for the whole group. Ordinarily quite shy, it was beyond charming to see her more boisterous side come out to play when she had a little help from the spirits.
“Oh, yes,” Edith said. “I simply cannot wait for that. Are you ever going to tell us where it’s at?”
Opal grinned mischievously. “When you wake up on December 31, you’ll have more information. That’s all you get to know ahead of time. Consider yourself spoiled because most of the guests won’t even know that much.”
At that, Julia noticed Meredith speaking with Jacob at the bar. “I’ve got to run. Wish I could stay and dance, but there’s work to be done. Do reach out if you hear of Sarah or Millie, would you?”
“Of course, love.”
“Kisses!”
Julia walked away from her friends’ goodbye calls and joined Meredith and Jacob at the bar.
“Did you have any luck, Meredith?” Julia asked.
“No, I didn’t see either of them.”
“I’ve asked around,” she said. “Nobody that I know has seen either one.”
“It was a long shot,” Jacob said.
“Now what?” Meredith asked. Her tone hadn’t quite returned to the bitter edge it had earlier today, but neither was it the silly, carefree buoyancy from their fictional murder of Eddie they’d created in the auto.
“What about family besides Eddie? Any other place that Millie might go? Your parents?”
Julia watched Meredith’s demeanor turn more frantic. “I don’t know.”
“Here’s what we’ll do,” Jacob instructed, “I’ll continue to search, with Julia’s help, if she’s willing. In the meantime, let’s get you situated back at your house. Perhaps, if Millie is in trouble, she might reach out to you.”
Meredith nodded. “That’s a sound plan, Inspector. Thank you for helping track down Millie. I swear when I get my hands on that girl…”
Julia noticed Meredith wipe a tear away and wondered where the composed, larger than life Meredith was hiding. Would she return when Millie was found safe? Wherever Millie was, Julia hoped desperately that she hadn’t met the same fate as the girl from Parliament.
“Come on, we’ll drop you.”
The trio left the Candlelight no closer to finding Millie or identifying the other body than they were two hours ago. At least they’d ruled some places out. For now, at least, Meredith had some hope that Millie would be found alive. That was a far cry better than what she’d believed earlier today at the PLC.
Once Meredith was dropped and Julia had relocated to the front seat, Jacob spoke to her again in his off-duty voice from their parked auto. “I have a real concern that the body we have at the coroner is Sarah Brook. Perhaps an even bigger concern that Millie Howard is in danger. I need to report in and enlist more help searching for her. I shouldn’t bring you with me. There are some that would frown on our…arrangement.”
“Arrangement? Is that the word you use for friendship?”
The day had been long, there was an undercurrent of urgency in the moment, and the combination of it all left Julia feeling helpless and irritable.
“Julia, of course I value your friendship, but it doesn’t change that you are a reporter for the World News and that my commanding officer and his commanding officer would have quite a bit to say about the forward movement of my career if they thought I was leaking information to the press.”
“I already told you I wouldn’t print a single thing without your permission. Did I not perform responsibly enough for you during the Withers’ investigation last month? Have I not proven worthy of your trust, Inspector?”
He started to answer but Julia opened the door. “On second thought, never mind. I’ll not be needing a ride. I can manage quite well on my own. Good luck with your own investigation.”
She slammed the door and began walking. He drove alongside her, struggling to roll down the passenger side window while he attempted to talk to her.
“Julia, be reasonable. It’s not that I do
n’t trust you. Appearances matter. You know that as much as I do.”
She stopped walking and turned to face his vehicle, which slowed to a complete stop.
“Inspector Gibbs, I would hate to give someone the wrong impression. Let’s avoid the appearance of all evil, shall we. I’ll walk home and you go about your business. In case you forgot, you’ve got a murder to solve and a missing person to find.”
She began her intense march toward the Goodall home. Jacob followed her, driving along beside her, pleading with her to get in the car.
“It’s the middle of December, Julia. Get in the car.”
“That’s Miss Barlow, Inspector. Appearances, remember?”
For three blocks, their mad procession continued with him insisting she come in from the cold and her insisting that his chasing her down wasn’t exactly helping his argument for appearances mattering.
“Inspector Gibbs, would you like me to file a report with your superior? I suspect a stalking charge might hinder your precious career.”
“You’re impossible, Julia Barlow. Excuse me— Miss Barlow. Suit yourself.”
At that, he rolled the window back up and let her walk ahead of him, but he followed her until she was back at home. Once she pulled closed the front door of her house behind her, she heard the screeching of tires.
Inspector Gibbs was infuriating. Not a great match for her quick temper. She hated that she inherited her father’s temper and her mother’s stubborn nature. All their worst qualities rolled into one investigative journalist. She supposed it was a good thing that she had her looks going for her.
She looked at the clock above the fireplace and noted the time.
7pm.
What now? She’d intended to shadow Inspector Gibbs for the evening, but now that she’d found herself back at home, she needed a new plan. If Inspector Gibbs wanted to solve this murder on his own, she supposed that was for the best. After all, she didn’t know Millie. The familiarity she did have was from years ago but that was so long past, Julia couldn’t have identified any of Millie’s contemporaries at this point. The inspector and his colleagues were much better positioned to solve this.
