Murder at the Marlowe Club

by Kate Parker

  * * *

  Things were quiet in the shop. I crossed the alley to the factory and told Noah and Annie I’d be late for dinner and to eat without me. Annie took my announcement in stride, but Noah’s eyes narrowed dangerously. He gestured to the door and we stepped into the alley, away from our employees. “What does that woman have you doing now?”

  Noah was not only my business partner, he was my mother’s cousin and had known me all my life. He was protective of both me and our business, and not kindly disposed toward either my father’s family or Lady Kaldaire and her demands. There was no good way to put this. “Lady Kaldaire and I are going to track down who killed her friend’s son and daughter-in-law.”

  “Why are you doing this?”

  “The man who was killed died in the house of Lady Kaldaire’s good friend. This friend may be in danger.”

  He shook his head. “That’s why she’s doing it. Why are you doing this?”

  “Because if I don’t, she’ll ruin us. She’ll tell everyone about my father’s family.”

  “I don’t think you’d lose as many customers as you think.”

  I wished Noah was right. He stayed in the workshop making hats while I worked in the shop with the customers. He didn’t have to deal with aristocrats. “You don’t know these women the way I do. They seek out gossip and then shun anyone who falls short of their standards. Their lofty standards. And every other milliner in London would like to steal my clients. They would all use my father’s criminal record against me.”

  He patted my arm. “It can’t be that bad.”

  “Oh, yes, it can. Please, say a prayer we find out something useful and I can walk away from this.” I stared into his eyes until he nodded.

  “How late will you be?”

  “Not late. I’ll do this as fast as I can.”

  “Good luck.”

  I returned through the back door of the shop to find we had another customer.

  * * *

  At two in the afternoon, I left Jane with the shop, cleaned up, and then dressed in my nicest suit, a lightweight navy wool paired with a new white shirtwaist and a red and blue patterned bow at my neck. My hat was a wide-brimmed, low-crowned affair in navy with red trim and roses. I took my stout black umbrella, refusing to ruin my new suit and hat in a spring downpour.

  It was a look middle-class teachers and shop owners were wearing that season, copied from the Americans. I might as well make obvious my different status from the ladies present.

  I rang the bell at Lady Kaldaire’s as the first fat drops hit the pavement and jumped inside as the butler, Lyle, opened the door.

  “Good afternoon, Miss Gates,” Lyle said, showing no surprise that I’d nearly run him over.

  “Hello, Lyle. Is Lady Kaldaire ready?” I hated wasting time I could be at work on those few occasions when she was quite late.

  “She should welcome you in just a moment,” Lyle said. He would have told me that no matter how long she kept me there unemployed. “Would you care to wait in the morning room?”

  “Yes.” I walked into what I knew was the sunniest room on the ground floor, expecting to sit there for a long time.

  As it turned out, Lady Kaldaire sailed by me in the front hall two minutes later, calling out, “Don’t dawdle, Emily.” I hurried after her as she marched out the front door, down to the pavement, and toward Wallingford House. “Both her daughter and daughter-in-law will be there with the duchess,” she told me as I caught up.

  “Will they be able to tell us anything the duchess can’t?” I asked, hearing large drops hit the top of my umbrella.

  “I hope so, although I couldn’t convince Lulu not to join us.” Lady Kaldaire held her umbrella at that aristocratic angle that dared the raindrops to strike. I could never quite copy that pose.

  “If the Wallingfords stick together, how will we learn anything about either of these deaths?” I felt certain the two deaths were related.

  “We can’t ask about Theo’s death. That’s too painful for his mother.” Lady Kaldaire used her haughty tone.

  Annoyed because I had hats to design and create that had to wait due to Lady Kaldaire’s ill-timed investigation, I was not about to be quieted by her haughty attitude. “Then we need to get the daughter and the son’s wife away from the duchess and question them.”

  I expected her to fight me. Instead, she remained quiet for the rest of our short walk.

  When we arrived, the Wallingford butler showed us in and, after taking our umbrellas, escorted us to the front drawing room that faced the park. A moment later, a pretty blonde in a black day dress with an overabundance of black lace and frills followed us in.

  Lady Kaldaire walked up to her and said, “Dorothy, how are you coping?”

  Tears sprang to her blue eyes. “He is such a dear little baby. How could anyone do something so vile?” She pulled a white linen handkerchief from her sleeve and covered her face.

  I was completely lost. I doubted she would refer to Lord Theodore as a baby. Was there another victim in this house?

  “What happened?” I asked, glancing from one woman to the other.

  “Lord Alfred was attacked one night,” Dorothy got out between sobs. “When we found him, he was on the floor, bloody and whimpering. The doctors don’t know how much of the damage from his injuries will stay with him.”

  “Where was the night nurse?” All these big houses had twenty-four-hour nurses for their children.

  “She’d also been thrown to the floor and was unconscious.”

  “Your house has been visited by great tragedy. Your baby injured, your brother- and sister-in-law—” I began.

  She turned red-rimmed but furious eyes toward me. “They were nothing. Silly, selfish creatures. Lord Alfred is heir to the dukedom. And he is mine. My precious baby.” Her glare seemed to burn through my skin.

  I’d heard the Duchess of Wallingford’s opinion of Lord Theo and his wife, Lady Theodore. Here was their sister-in-law, who found them both beneath notice. Didn’t anyone like anyone else in this house?

  Chapter Seven

  “I beg your pardon. You must be terribly worried about your little boy,” I began. This woman seemed distraught over her baby’s condition. “His injuries aren’t serious, I hope.” Perhaps she was overreacting to the accident.

  “He did nothing but sleep for days after the attack. We could barely get him to eat. The doctor was very concerned. And he’s been fussy and listless since then.” Tears flowed down Dorothy’s cheeks.

  “I’m so sorry. I wish I could do something useful. Your mother-in-law seems very upset about Lord Theo.” I didn’t want to rile someone who might have the answers we needed to find a killer. The sooner, the better as far as I was concerned.

  “She doesn’t realize how evil Theo was. And the family won’t let me tell her. They don’t believe me,” Dorothy said, simultaneously sniffing and glowering.

  “Of course, we believe you, Dorothy,” said a woman’s voice behind me, “but it doesn’t help to tell Mama and upset her now that Theo’s gone.”

  I turned to find a dark-haired, rather plain woman in an elegant walking suit of dull black behind me. Lady Kaldaire stepped forward to embrace her. “Tragedy seems to follow your family, Margaret.”

  “There are tragedies and there are tragedies,” Margaret replied from over Lady Kaldaire’s shoulder as she stared at Dorothy. I read her expression to mean Keep your mouth shut.

  I decided to try to question Dorothy on my own.

  Lady Kaldaire introduced me to the ladies, referring to me as her private secretary. I wondered if they were aware of how often Lady Kaldaire embellished the truth.

  It turned out Dorothy was the Marchioness of Frethorton, the future duchess, and Margaret was Lady Ellingham, the current duchess’s daughter, who was married to a peer.

  I had work to do, and neither of these ladies was a customer of mine. I asked, “Do either of you have any idea how these terrible events occurred?”


  Dorothy vigorously shook her head.

  Margaret said, “Of course not. And if we did, we’d tell Scotland Yard.” Not you, echoed silently.

  “Lady Kaldaire has an idea that we might be of more use than Scotland Yard. We can speak to people who may not be willing to talk to the police, precisely because we’re not officials. My ladies,” I added belatedly. I didn’t want to spend my working hours talking to them any more than they wanted to talk to me.

  Dorothy shook her head again.

  Margaret glared at me. “What good will it do to find the killer?”

  “Don’t you think your brother’s killer should be punished?” Lady Kaldaire demanded.

  “My mother thinks Theo’s killer is dead.” Margaret transferred her glare to Lady Kaldaire.

  “And if he’s not, you think he should get away with it?” Lady Kaldaire demanded. The two women were toe to toe now, growing red in the face with their fury.

  “Robbie. Margaret. Stop it.” The Duchess of Wallingford walked up to the pair. I could see now that she was naturally thin, but the trauma she’d been through this last month had taken its toll. However, since I’d seen her the day before, she’d been dressed, coiffed, and fed, and now looked and sounded like an aristocrat.

  “Yes, Mother.”

  “Of course, Lulu.” Both women stepped back. With a last glare, they walked to different areas of the room.

  “Would you please be seated?” the duchess asked as she rang the bell.

  When a maid appeared, the duchess ordered tea. Then she sat in a high-backed armchair and said, “Robbie doesn’t think Roxanne killed Theo.”

  “Why?” Margaret demanded.

  “If Roxanne killed Theo, who killed Roxanne?” Lady Kaldaire said.

  “Do we care?”

  I could resist no longer. “Other than the fact that murder is illegal in this country and it is the duty of every law-abiding citizen to follow the hue and cry?” When I glanced at the two ladies, they looked down. “It would have taken two people to undress Roxanne if she were dead or incapacitated. It may have taken two people to move her body to where I found it in the park. If these two people broke into your parents’ house to kill her, how do you know they won’t come back and attack your mother or father? Or attack Lady Frethorton’s baby again?”

  Dorothy gasped and burst into tears.

  Her reaction earned me a glare from Margaret and the duchess. “My parents aren’t involved in gaming, or using cocaine, or procuring helpless people for sex slaves,” Margaret snapped.

  “Indeed, we are not,” her mother agreed. The duchess, with her mourning dress of black and her silvery hair, was a study in rectitude where all the color had been drained away.

  “Do you know how these gamblers and cocaine peddlers entered the house and escaped again, not once, but twice?” If I was given a good answer to that question, I was pretty certain I could convince Lady Kaldaire to let Scotland Yard investigate without our interference.

  “Maybe…,” Dorothy said and then made a helpless gesture.

  “While avoiding a houseful of servants and locks on the doors and windows? No, we have no idea how anyone could enter from outside,” Margaret said. She gave me a defiant look. “Ask Scotland Yard. They should be able to figure it out.”

  “Not if you won’t tell them anything,” Lady Kaldaire said in a dry tone.

  A maid brought in a tea tray loaded with little sandwiches and cakes as well as small plates, cups, and saucers in delicate bone china with a tiny yellow rose pattern. Lady Kaldaire and Lady Ellingham fell silent, making their point with glares. The duchess invited us to help ourselves while she removed the cozy from the teapot.

  I waited, understanding my role here was not honored guest. Dorothy took two tiny watercress sandwiches and a tea cake. Margaret glanced at her sister-in-law’s plate and smiled before giving her mother a pointed look.

  “I’m glad to see your appetite has improved,” the duchess said.

  “Yes. I’m feeling more myself today,” Dorothy said and sat before accepting a cup of tea.

  “These sandwiches look good,” Lady Kaldaire said, helping herself to a tea cake and then taking a cup of tea. “I think if you hadn’t seen anything out of the ordinary at the time of these two deaths, a servant may have. May we question them?”

  “Do you think we haven’t already?” Margaret said, taking a dainty sandwich.

  “Miss Gates?” the duchess said.

  I looked at her, wondering how I was supposed to convince her to let us question her servants.

  “Would you like a sandwich?”

  Oh. “Yes, Your Grace, they look delicious.” I took one and watched Dorothy take a third one before I managed a single bite. I finished mine with a second bite, had a sip of tea, and said, “Your Grace, may Lady Kaldaire and I question your staff? Perhaps something will jog someone’s memory.”

  “You think it might be helpful, Robbie?” the duchess asked.

  “If I didn’t think so, I wouldn’t ask, Lulu. I know how trying the last month has been for you.”

  The Duchess of Wallingford sat completely still for a moment and then reached for the bell pull. A moment later, the butler appeared.

  “Set up a schedule of times for Lady Kaldaire and her assistant to question the staff about anything untoward at the time of the deaths of Lord Theo and Lady Theodore.” The duchess turned to Lady Kaldaire. “Is that satisfactory?”

  “Thank you, Lulu.”

  “Let us know when it is ready, Mathers.”

  He bowed deeply. “Yes, Your Grace.” Backing up two steps, he left the room.

  “Anyone for more tea?” the duchess asked.

  I sat quietly, keeping one eye on the clock, while Margaret, the duchess, and Lady Kaldaire carried on a boring conversation concerning weather, flowers, and upcoming weddings. I made a mental note on the weddings, hoping it meant more business for my shop. Dorothy downed three more sandwiches and two tea cakes.

  Mathers returned in under ten minutes with a full schedule written up in a neat hand. He handed it to his employer with a bow, who passed it to Lady Kaldaire, who handed it to me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Dorothy give a quizzical look to Margaret, who shook her head.

  I stared at the butler. “You aren’t on here, Mathers.”

  “I doubt I could add anything of value,” he said in his deep, somber voice.

  “Oh, I doubt that,” I said. I was raised to believe butlers knew everything that happened in a household.

  “Shall I speak to you now?” he asked.

  I rose. “Please. Lead the way.”

  “Thank you, Lulu,” Lady Kaldaire said as she rose to follow me out of the room.

  We walked single file to the butler’s office in the cellar amid the warren of storerooms and sculleries. I could hear the din from the kitchen as dinner was being prepared. Once we were seated with Mathers staring anxiously at the bell by his doorway, I asked, “Are their graces having a dinner party tonight?”

  “Just a small one. Family and close friends.”

  “The attack on Lady Frethorton’s baby, when was that?”

  “The night Lord Theo died.”

  “Was the attack reported to the police?”

  “His Grace forbade it. The doctor had his hands full with three patients—”

  “Three?”

  “Lady Frethorton was shattered by the events and had to be put to bed with a sedative. And of course Lord Alfred was injured.”

  “And the third?” I pressed.

  “The night nurse. His Grace fired her for shirking her duties, which meant one of the maids had to take over. The nurse left in the morning, bewailing her mistreatment.” The butler’s face said what he thought of her actions.

  “Could Lord Theo have crossed paths with the baby’s attacker?”

  “It is possible.”

  “I’d like the night nurse’s name and address, please.” She might have information that Scotland Yard didn’t possess.


  “I don’t see—”

  “Would you rather I had to disturb the duchess for the nurse’s details, reminding her of that tragic night?” Lady Kaldaire asked.

  The butler immediately jumped up to find and copy the information.

  “Who is responsible for seeing to the locking up of the house each night?” I asked.

  “It is my duty as butler.” He sounded huffy.

  “Including the night the baby was attacked and the night Lady Theodore was murdered?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then how did these evil people get into this house?” I hoped he’d admit to failing his duty, although looking at his stiff-backed posture, I wouldn’t believe it.

  He shook his head. “I don’t know. I locked everything up. The servants know better than to unlock a door at night without me being present.”

  The servants knew better, but… “And the family?”

  “They have their own keys for when I’ve locked up for the night.”

  “Has a key gone missing lately?”

  “Scotland Yard already asked that.” His back appeared to grow stiffer.

  “If you mean your employers well, you won’t mind answering a simple question again.” I kept my voice low and calm.

  Suddenly, Mathers seemed to slump into himself. “Lord Theo misplaced a front-door key a few days before he died.” He glanced at me and added, “I informed His Grace. He wasn’t concerned. He believed the key was left in the boy’s room or had fallen down a sewer.”

  Lord Theo was hardly a boy in my mind. “Do you know where Lord Theo went the day he lost the key?”

  “He lost it at night, and I prefer not to know the details of where the young master went or with whom.” The butler shuddered.

  The rest of the staff denied knowing anything about the events of those two nights until awakened from their beds. No one knew anything about Lord Theo’s missing key or had seen anyone suspicious lurking about.

  I glanced at Lady Kaldaire after we’d interviewed the last maid. “The only thing we’ve learned is Lord Theo lost a key. It could be that someone he owed money to saw him drop it and used it to try to collect what was due. In the process, both the man and later his wife were murdered. That would explain how the killers entered the house undetected. But it doesn’t explain why the man was murdered but not his wife at that time, and then she was killed a month later and in a more public way.”