A Lady's Guide to Gossip and Murder

by Dianne Freeman

  Chapter 19

  With George gone, Charles and I had no choice but to return—albeit grudgingly—to work. He emptied the document case, filled with papers from Mary’s desk, on to the card table. I returned to the sofa with the puzzling note. No matter how long I stared at it, it refused to solve itself. I was on the point of picking up a pencil to jot down names that could match the initials when a commotion in the hall drew my attention.

  “For heaven’s sake, don’t drop her, Graham!”

  Don’t drop her? That was enough to break my fragile thread of concentration. I left the note on the table and opened the door.

  Graham was indeed in the hall, accompanied by Hetty and Lottie, and carrying my daughter in his arms. A hundred horrifying scenes flashed through my mind in the blink of an eye. I stumbled to Graham’s side on rubbery legs to touch Rose’s warm cheek.

  “What happened?”

  They all spoke at once, creating a great deal of noise with no discernible explanation. Finally, Graham spoke above the din. “She’s fine, Frances. She fell off her pony and twisted her ankle. The doctor’s already seen to her and it’s neither broken nor sprained. Might I take her to her room while I still have the strength?”

  He allowed Rose to droop in his arms, provoking a giggle from her and a sigh of relief from me. Leaving the others in the hall, Graham and I took Rose up to her room, fussed over her, and tucked her into bed. Little by little, the whole story came out.

  “You tried to take Pierre over a hedge? What were you thinking?” Her face crumpled. She was seven. What was I thinking? Poor decisions should be expected.

  “I called the doctor immediately when she and the boys came home,” Graham assured me. “He’s certain if she rests the ankle a day or two, she’ll be fine.”

  “I’m sorry, Mummy.”

  I squeezed her hand. “I’m just glad you’re all right, dearest. But we will talk about this later.”

  I gave instructions for Rose’s dinner to be brought to her room tonight, and as her eyes drooped, headed downstairs with Graham.

  “Thank heavens you were at home today, Graham.”

  He squeezed my shoulder, the aristocratic version of a warm hug, reminding me he did have a human side. “I should be returning there now,” he said as we descended the stairs. “But may I offer a word of advice first?”

  “Of course.”

  “It might be wise to distance ourselves from Cousin Charles, or at least not host him here so frequently.” He slowed his steps so we lingered outside the drawing room. “I understand he is a suspect in Mrs. Archer’s murder and we don’t want such scandal touching the rest of us.”

  Bother, this story was spreading. “Where did you hear this?”

  “Caroline Archer.”

  What was she up to? I took Graham by the arm and moved farther away from the drawing room. “Caroline is mistaken. Inspector Delaney has exonerated him of all suspicion, and in fact, he was never arrested in the first place.”

  Graham raised his brows. “Truly? Well, that’s a relief. Always liked Cousin Charles. Would hate to think ill of him.”

  I drew a calming breath and reminded myself this man had just shown kindness to my child. Perhaps he wasn’t beyond all hope. “If you hear this rumor from anyone else, I hope you’ll put an end to it.”

  “I most certainly will.” He squared his jaw and moved to the door. “Can’t have anyone gossiping about the family.”

  I closed the door behind him and joined the others in the drawing room where Hetty served the tea. “I’m sorry to report, Charles, that Caroline Archer is still telling tales about you.”

  He dropped his head into his hands and groaned. I sat down next to Lottie on the sofa and told them what Graham had heard. I also informed Lottie and Hetty that Delaney had ceased to consider Charles a suspect.

  “Yes, thanks to Hazelton and Lady Harleigh, I’m no longer a wanted man.” He smiled at Lottie, who blushed, reached for her cup, and knocked over the sugar bowl. “I hope your afternoon’s work has gone as well.”

  “We are not quite so deep in paperwork as the two of you seem to be,” she said.

  “Ah, this?” Charles said, indicating the new stack of papers on the card table. “Account books, receipts, and miscellaneous notes from Mrs. Archer’s house.”

  “Would you like some help in sorting through it?”

  “Lottie, my dear, you are indefatigable,” Hetty said, filling a plate with a selection of treats from the tea tray.

  I wasn’t sure if that was the right word. She was definitely a helpful sort, but I daresay her offer had more to do with spending time with Charles. Well, she could certainly do worse.

  “Yes, dear. If you’re willing, please do assist Mr. Evingdon while I work on this note.” And enjoy a much-needed cup of tea.

  Charles stood and motioned for Lottie to precede him to the card table where our cache from Mary’s house lay. She hesitated. He insisted. I rolled my eyes and turned away from the inevitable moment when they would both move at once and knock one another down. Instead I picked up Lily’s sketchbook.

  “It’s a good thing Lily hasn’t been sketching much lately,” Hetty said. “It appears you are putting that pad to a more practical use.”

  I gave her a smile. It was Hetty’s idea to use the pad and easel a few months ago during our last investigation, which was also my first. In the intervening months, I’d never once considered we’d need it again for such a similar purpose.

  “Are you any closer to solving this one yet?”

  “Not a whit. No witnesses, or rather witnesses who saw only a figure of a man, allowing for only a vague description.”

  Hetty frowned. “How vague?”

  “Enough that it could be stretched to fit dozens of suspects. The man was seen nearby at the time of both murders. The only thing the two victims have in common is the column. So, we keep returning to them to search for our suspects.”

  “And the stacks and stacks of notes for potential columns,” Lottie added. “Perhaps we should go through them all, identifying the subjects involved and set aside any who fit the description of the man seen at the crimes.”

  I watched her and Charles interact as I considered her suggestion. She’d watch him through lowered lashes until he turned her way. Then she’d quickly avert her gaze. He drew up a chair for her comfort, carefully stacking the papers before handing them off for her review. His gaze lingered on her from the side.

  Well, at least something good might come of this investigation.

  “Actually, Lottie, we may be beyond that now. We think one of the hints we published attracted the intruder to the Daily Observer.”

  “There was an intruder at the Observer?”

  Charles brought her up to date on that point.

  “Then is the intruder also the murderer?” she asked.

  “Frances thinks it’s Gordon Archer.”

  Hetty turned a sharp glance toward me. “Why do you view him as a suspect?”

  I rubbed a spot between my eyebrows that was beginning to throb. “According to Mr. Hazelton and Inspector Delaney, we have no reason to believe he would do anything to harm Mrs. Archer or the editor.” I shrugged. “And they’re correct. But I can’t quite drop him as a suspect in my mind. Particularly when his wife persists in condemning Charles. I have no evidence. I simply don’t like his attitude about Mary, or that he tried to break into her house.”

  “He also has a habit of leading clients into risky investments,” Hetty said.

  “Leading might be overstating it,” Charles said. “He advises them, but they asked him for that advice.”

  “He advised me to open an account in the five percents. Not much of a risk there.” I looked up at Hetty. “What about Graham’s investment—that shipping company? Did you ever manage to find out if they were insured?”

  “They are most certainly not insured.” Hetty’s voice was filled with outrage. “In fact, I learned the company doesn’t even exist.”
>
  “How do you mean, they don’t exist?”

  “It means there is no such company,” Charles supplied in a helpful tone.

  “I know what ‘doesn’t exist’ means, Charles. What I don’t understand is how it is possible that a company Graham invested in doesn’t exist.”

  I held up a hand as he opened his mouth to answer. “Perhaps Aunt Hetty could explain it better.”

  The three of us turned our attention to her. “In a way, Mr. Evingdon got it right. I had a conversation with Mr. Kendrick before meeting with Graham this morning. He used his resources to investigate the name on the stock certificate Archer gave to Graham.” She shook her head. “There is no such company registered in England or any other country who trades with Brazil.”

  I wasn’t quite following her. “Does that mean the investment was fraudulent?”

  “Exactly. While I suppose it’s possible Archer was also defrauded, the fact that he passed on the stock certificates makes me wonder if he were in on the hoax. If not actually running it himself.”

  Stunned, I moved closer to Hetty, lowering myself into the chair facing her. “How exactly does this happen? How does someone perpetrate such a hoax as you call it?”

  “Well, I’ve never actually been involved in this sort of thing before,” she said. “But I understand the general idea. To gain one’s confidence, someone like Archer offers sound investment advice. The fact that he’s a principle at a bank gives him a certain gravitas, but since the board could have him removed, he must make some good investments. While doing so, he’ll keep an eye out for clients he can dupe. Someone who doesn’t pay much attention to his finances. Sooner or later, he’ll contact those people and tell them about an amazing opportunity, something they shouldn’t miss. A few may take him up on the offer and invest with him. At first, he may actually invest their money somewhere, and he’ll return their investment after a time, with interest or dividends.”

  Hetty took a sip of tea and Lottie picked up the thread. “Once he has their trust, he then lets it drop that he’s on to an amazing deal. A very exclusive private investment. The returns promise to be spectacular. Yes, of course, there are a few risks, but he considers them to be minor so he is putting as much of his own capital as possible into the deal.” She shrugged as if imitating the swindler.

  “Don’t stop now.” With a motion of her hand, Hetty encouraged her assistant to proceed with the explanation.

  “The potential investor is so excited he begs to be let in on the deal. The swindler pulls back. This is a long-term investment, he cautions. You can’t expect quick returns, you must be in for the long run, but it will be worth the wait.”

  “Heavens, Lottie! You are so compelling, I’m ready to force my money on you.” And I clearly wasn’t the only one entranced by her story. Though I didn’t think Charles’s mind was on money.

  “That’s exactly how it works,” Hetty said. “The swindler paints an enticing picture, then pulls back just enough to make the investor pursue him.”

  “But eventually, he accepts the money, doesn’t he?” I asked.

  Hetty’s eyes widened. “Of course, but he waits until just the moment before the investor is about to give up. Then over the course of time he can remind the investor that he begged to be involved in this deal. That’s how he manages their expectations.”

  I was still a little lost. Fortunately, Charles voiced the question I was trying to form.

  “But if there really is no company to invest in, what does he do with the money?”

  “For the most part, it goes into his pocket,” Hetty replied. “Here and there he may dole some out to one of his clients and call it a return on his investment. That way he can string them along a little while longer. At the same time, he tells another client or two that the project went bankrupt, or the shipment was lost at sea, or the company went under. And all their money was lost.”

  Lottie chimed in. “But remember, he did warn them about the risks.”

  Hetty let out a snort of disgust. “It’s a devious trick. They were never going to get their money back.”

  “Are you telling me he’s simply stealing from them? That’s horrible.”

  “It goes far beyond horrible. I believe Archer perpetrated a fraud on Graham though it’s going to take a great deal of convincing to make him realize it.”

  “He doesn’t believe you?”

  Hetty spread her hands. “Who wants to believe they were played for a fool? Especially to the tune of six thousand pounds.”

  “Goodness!” Lottie gasped. “I had no idea it was that much.”

  “It jolly well sounds like Archer’s a criminal,” Charles added.

  “Actually, you’re right.” Hetty seemed surprised to be saying those words. “This is definitely a crime and should be reported to the police.”

  “Wait!” I shouted, as if one of them were off to alert the police at that moment. “It’s not only a crime, it’s also a motive.”

  Hetty frowned in confusion. “A motive for what, my dear?”

  “A motive for murder.”

  Chapter 20

  Waiting for George to return was out of the question. I slipped out the back of my house into his garden and tapped on the library window. Seated at his desk, he jumped at my tap and made a show of clutching his chest before rising from his desk and meeting me at the drawing room door. Honestly, one would think he’d be used to this by now.

  “You have some new information?” he asked, leading me back to the library.

  I seated myself in a guest chair at his desk and gave him a sly smile as he walked around to the other side.

  “Ah, you look decidedly pleased about something.” A smile crept across his lips and he watched me, his fingers steepled in front of him.

  I caught myself. “Actually, it’s terrible news and I’ve no right to be pleased.” As I gave him a brief explanation of Archer’s activities, at least as they pertained to Graham, his smile compressed to an angry line, his shoulders tensed. I knew I needn’t go on.

  “Hetty can explain the whole business to you if you like. I’m sure she’d do it better. But from what I understand of this, I find it hard to believe Graham is the only victim.”

  “No, he wouldn’t be. If what you’re telling me is true, and I don’t mean to say I’m questioning your information,” he quickly added upon seeing my scowl, “Archer wouldn’t stop at one victim.” He leaned back in his chair and stroked his chin, thinking.

  “You see what this means, don’t you? Archer now has a motive for murder.”

  He raised a hand to slow me down. “Now you’re jumping to conclusions. I completely understand Archer would never want a breath of this to get out, but we have no reason to believe Mary was aware of his unsavory business dealings.”

  I slumped against the back of my chair. Oh, dear. He was right. “There was not one piece of gossip or scandal as inflammatory as this in her files. If she knew what Archer was doing, then he would be the most likely suspect. But I have no idea if she knew.” How terribly disappointing. “What can we do?”

  George was still lost in his thoughts. “Mrs. Wiggins said she took Mrs. Archer to the market near her home and introduced her to some friends,” he mused. “That would mean maids and housekeepers.”

  I nodded. “If you think about it, they’re the perfect source for this type of information. Servants are aware of everything that happens in a household, and we often confide a great deal of private information as well. When a master cheats them, as Graham did, or discharges them, or somehow treats them ill, what’s to stop them from selling information, or gossip if you will, to a ready buyer?”

  I leaned forward on the desk, my chin resting on my fist. “Her knowledge of Archer’s exploits would explain why she chose to work for her living and refused to take any support from him. In her eyes, his money was tainted.”

  He raised his brows. “But that brings us back to the same question. How would she know?”

  “
Well, her husband was his brother.” I frowned. “Was Jasper involved with the bank?”

  “I completely forgot about that connection. He was employed there, but transactions of this sort would never have been sanctioned by the bank. Archer did this on his own. Unless his brother was in on the scheme, I doubt he would have known.”

  We both pondered this for a moment. “I have to disagree with you. They were brothers. They worked in the same building, lived in the same house. Even if Jasper wasn’t involved in the scheme he might very well have found out, just considering the amount of time they spent together. Gordon Archer might have unconsciously mentioned it, or perhaps they argued about money.” I spread my hands as I pled my case. “It’s even possible someone who lost a lot of money complained to Jasper and he investigated the cause, thus finding his brother out.”

  “Are you assuming Jasper told Mary?”

  I shook my head at the hopelessness of ever learning the truth. “We will never know.”

  He raised a finger. “I’m not so sure of that. It would certainly help to learn if there were other victims of Archer’s scheme. If indeed it was his scheme. I can check at the clubs for others who lost large amounts of money with him. A little conversation might lead me to finding out if anyone mentioned it to Jasper.”

  That sounded like a good start. “Well, we already determined that servants know everything that goes on in a household. If we can learn who worked for Jasper—as a valet, perhaps—we can put some questions to him.”

  “What sort of questions could you ask without giving yourself away?”

  “Arguments between Mary and Jasper about family funds? Or arguments between the brothers?” I shrugged. “Leading questions.”

  “And how do you find out who held that position? It’s been well over a year since Jasper died.”

  “That part should be easy. The papers you brought from Mary’s house included the household account books. Her payments to servants would be among them. I should have no problem finding a name. Finding where he is now”—I twisted my lips in a crooked smile—“that will be the problem.”