Murder at the Marlowe Club

by Kate Parker

  When I told her, she made a face. “She was wild, but I never thought Roxanne would do anything that disgusting, even for the benefit of my brother. Where did you hear this story?”

  “Lady Westkirk,” I said.

  Lady Ellingham made a scoffing noise. “I wouldn’t put too much faith in what little Miss Bianca says.”

  “Why do you say that?” I was truly interested in how Lady Margaret Ellingham saw other members of the aristocracy.

  “Bianca Casale wasn’t above telling lies to better her position. Her father wasn’t an Italian aristocrat, he was a peddler who worked near the docks. She learned Lord Westkirk had a dead granddaughter who had traveled to Italy, and she told him lies about being friends with this granddaughter. Bianca’s never been near Florence.”

  “Surely, she was just stretching the truth to better her own position,” the duchess said.

  “Georgia, I know you have great sympathy for the lower classes,” Margaret said, “but you’ve never lied about your antecedents. That’s why we like you. You don’t pretend to be anyone other than yourself.”

  “Does Lady Westkirk?” I asked her.

  “Yes,” Lady Kaldaire quickly responded before Lady Ellingham could. “She acts as if she can trace her lineage back to the Conquest. While it doesn’t bother Lord Westkirk—he finds it amusing—his son Willard grinds his teeth every time she puts on airs. And quite frankly, so do I.”

  “So do a lot of us,” Lady Ellingham said.

  “She’s trying to fit in by being more royal than the king, when, if she just trusted us a little, we might find we like her,” Georgia, Duchess of Blackford and former bookshop owner, explained.

  “Was she a friend of Lady Victoria Abbott?” I asked.

  Lady Margaret Ellingham laughed aloud. “Bianca put Victoria down at every opportunity, especially to Bartholomew Abbott before the two married. Lord Abbott wasn’t a lord yet, but he certainly was handsome in his naval uniform. Bianca chased him quite blatantly, but he only had eyes for Victoria.”

  “That wasn’t what Lady Westkirk told Lady Kaldaire and me,” I said.

  “Of course not. She probably acted like she loves her husband and is everybody’s friend, but don’t get taken in by her,” Lady Ellingham told me. “She chases everything in trousers.”

  “That can’t be too pleasant for Lord Westkirk,” Lady Kaldaire said.

  “We never see Lord Westkirk out in society, so perhaps he doesn’t know,” the duchess said.

  “And if I talk to Priscilla Lawson and Hugo Watson, what do you think they will tell me?” I asked.

  “Talk to them and see if they agree with me. They—Victoria Abbott, Priscilla Lawson, Lady Westkirk, and Roxanne—were all about the same age and came out in society at about the same time. Or married into it without benefit of being presented to the king and queen.” When Lady Margaret Ellingham smiled at me, I was reminded of her mother. Her mother who hated Roxanne. “Would you care to stay for tea?”

  “I would, if after tea, you might prevail on your father to allow us to see the tunnel before it’s closed up,” I said.

  “Why do you want to see that cursed tunnel?” Lady Margaret asked.

  “We’ve been thinking Roxanne left by way of the tunnel to meet the person who killed her. But what if she met the person in the tunnel? Has anyone searched it for clues to Roxanne’s death?” I asked the ladies.

  “No one has, and it certainly can’t hurt,” Lady Kaldaire said. “We wouldn’t have to bother your parents if the tunnel is still open.”

  Lady Ellingham smiled, this time not looking at all like her mother. “It’s still open. There’s been some debate about how to close it up so that it never caves in. After tea, we’ll inspect the tunnel and you’ll see there’s nothing there.”

  “And would it be possible for me to talk to the housemaid Sally while we are there?” I asked.

  “Why?” Lady Ellingham was immediately on her guard again.

  “Supposedly Sally knows more about who came and went by that tunnel than anyone else in the household,” I replied.

  Lady Ellingham made a sweeping gesture with one hand that I took to be assent.

  “Do any of you know of any other deaths of young people in aristocratic families in the past six months?” I asked.

  All the ladies shook their heads. “That’s why the deaths of the two couples were much talked about. First the Abbotts, and then Theo and Roxanne’s deaths,” the Duchess of Blackford said. “No one in their age group had died in the past two years. And then four deaths in the space of less than two months, all under questionable circumstances.”

  “Bartholomew Abbott would have died by hanging if he hadn’t shot himself, so I’m not sure he should count,” Lady Kaldaire said.

  “Oh, he should, since there should be another hanging.” I looked at the ladies. “Roxanne’s killer.”

  “You think it was an aristocrat?”

  “I don’t think it was a common thief. Especially since we still don’t know where she was killed. Have the police checked all over Wallingford House?”

  Lady Ellingham groaned. “As much as my father would allow. Hearing him tell the police inspector that he would give his word that Roxanne was not butchered in his bedchamber, or that of his wife, is not something I’ll soon forget.”

  “I suspect the inspector won’t, either,” Lady Kaldaire said with a smile.

  After much social chatter, Lady Kaldaire, Lady Ellingham, and I joined the duchess in her carriage and rode the short distance to Wallingford House. The duchess sent the carriage home while Lady Margaret led the way into her childhood home and surprised the butler when she said, “We want to see the tunnel, Mathers.”

  “But my lady, your father doesn’t want anyone going down there.”

  “If he asks, you can tell him you knew nothing about this.”

  Mathers’s stiff demeanor cracked for an instant as he smiled. “Yes, my lady. Oh, you’ll be glad to hear Lord Alfred is crawling and standing again.” Then he put on his unflappable expression and stood back while we entered.

  “That is good news, Mathers. Dorothy must be over the moon,” Lady Margaret responded.

  “Indeed, my lady.”

  I was a stranger to the house but I murmured my thankfulness, after the duchess and Lady Kaldaire, at the happy news that the baby had recovered from his injuries.

  Lady Margaret Ellingham and the butler exchanged broad smiles before she led the way and we followed her down one hall after another and then down stairs.

  Finally, she opened a door that appeared to allow entrance into a linen cabinet and pushed out the back. She picked up a lantern and lit it. Then we followed her down a steep flight of wooden steps between two narrow stone walls that continued down a corridor.

  I took the lamp from Lady Ellingham and slowly walked the passageway, looking down at the dirt floor while she quickly walked the distance to the other set of stairs going up.

  Suddenly, the Duchess of Blackford cried out from behind me. Even Lady Kaldaire, chatting about how cleverly the passage was hidden, fell silent. I looked up to find the duchess pointing about waist high on one wall just ahead of where I stood. Searching carefully, I found what appeared to be blood-stains splattered on the rocks. In front of me, the dirt was packed down, but it was a different color. As if something had poured into the dirt. Blood, perhaps?

  “I think we found the spot where Roxanne was murdered,” I said in a quiet voice.

  “I think we need to show this to Scotland Yard,” the duchess said.

  “Send a message to Inspector Russell. He’ll take care of it without upsetting the household,” Lady Kaldaire said.

  We carefully stepped over the spot and walked the rest of the way single file to climb the stairs and open the door in the carriage house. To one side were the duke’s carriages, while on the other were his horses. A man looked up, surprised at being joined while he was mucking out the stalls.

  Lady Ellingham sent hi
m to find a bobby and send the bobby off to take word to Scotland Yard that Inspector Russell was needed at Wallingford House. Then we left the carriage house to walk along the alleyway and return to the front door of the house.

  Mathers, to his great credit, managed to not appear surprised at our second appearance on the doorstep.

  “You’re going to have to tell your father what has transpired, and I doubt he’d want a duchess to see his reaction. I’ll go now, but please call for me if I’m needed.” The Duchess of Blackford squeezed Lady Margaret Ellingham’s hands and walked home across the side street.

  “My lady?” Mathers said to the daughter of the house.

  “Is my father in his study?”

  “Yes.”

  “Please show these ladies into the small parlor and have someone bring them tea.” Margaret walked off, pulling off her gloves as she did so.

  The small parlor was near the front door and overloaded with Victorian furniture. Heavy curtains in a green brocade darkened by coal fires hung by the windows, giving the room a gloomy look and a stuffy smell. This didn’t appear to be a room where guests were served tea.

  Nevertheless, Lady Kaldaire and I were enjoying a cup of good Darjeeling when the Duke of Wallingford burst into the room, followed by his daughter. “What is the meaning of this, calling the police back to my home?” He roared rather than spoke.

  We both sprang to our feet. “Your Grace,” I began, “we seem to have stumbled across the site of Lady Theo’s murder in the tunnel. And like all good English people, we informed the police so they can make progress in finding the murderer. A murderer who broke into your home to kill.”

  Mercifully, the duke fell silent.

  At least until the first constables showed up to view the tunnel. Then the duke returned to his apoplectic roar. I suggested they go to the carriage house and have someone show them the entrance to the tunnel. Blood on the stone walls and mixed into the dirt on the floor marked the spot they should show to Inspector Russell.

  The two uniformed constables looked grateful to escape. Lady Margaret gave me a smile before she suggested to her father that he return to his study.

  He nodded to us and stalked away.

  We had only a few minutes’ wait before James Russell knocked on the door, a group of policemen behind him. Before the butler could send him away, I hurried into the hallway and said, “I’ll show you where the tunnel comes out in the carriage house. This way you won’t disturb the household.”

  James didn’t look pleased to see me, but he gestured for me to precede him. Surprise flashed in his eyes when not only Lady Kaldaire followed me out, but also Lady Margaret Ellingham. We made a strange parade on the Mayfair pavement, with two ladies, a milliner, and a line of police officers, but people in Mayfair never stop and stare, no matter how much they may want to.

  The ladies waited at the top of the steps, but I followed the police down into the tunnel.

  “Miss, you should go back up,” the first bobby I reached at the bottom of the stairs said.

  “Have you found the location?” I asked.

  “Let her through,” James said. When I reached him, he said, “What made you think to come down here?”

  “You’ve searched the house and the outside for the place where Roxanne was murdered. Not too many people knew about this tunnel. If her killer did…?” I shrugged.

  “Awkward place to kill someone and undress them.” He studied the tunnel with its lack of width and height, lantern light flickering patterns on the rocks. “It would have taken two to move her to the park.”

  “Couldn’t one strong man do it?” I asked.

  “We know from the body she wasn’t dragged. She was carried. And there’s no room for a man, no matter how strong, to lift her and carry her in this tunnel and up those steep stairs. It would have taken two, one at her shoulders and one at her knees.”

  “So, we’re looking for a pair who wanted Roxanne dead and wanted her moved out of the tunnel.” I was going to have to think about pairs among the people who wanted Roxanne dead.

  “Why didn’t they just leave her here? Did the family use this tunnel often?” James studied the tunnel again, being careful not to hit his bowler on the timber ceiling.

  “No. Do you think they wanted the body found?”

  James held my gaze. “She was found quickly enough in the park, even with the rain. Here, she might have remained undiscovered for days, perhaps.”

  “At least that long,” I agreed.

  James nodded as if mulling over his thoughts. “Then it must have been important that the body be found quickly.”

  “Why?”

  “If I knew that, I’d be in clover.”

  I gave James a smile and left the police to do their work. When I reached the top of the steps, I found the two ladies waiting for me.

  “What did you learn?” Lady Kaldaire demanded.

  “It took two people to carry her out of that tunnel and they must have wanted Roxanne found quickly. How often did anyone use that tunnel?”

  “Back in the day, perhaps once a week,” Lady Ellingham told me. “Perhaps less often.”

  “Why would it have been important for Roxanne’s body to be found the day it was?” I asked, but neither lady could give me an answer.

  “Could I speak to Sally now, Lady Ellingham?”

  “I’ll get Mathers to fetch her. Lady Kaldaire, would you like to wait with me in the drawing room? I think Sally can be more easily persuaded to tell what she knows if she’s only faced with one person.”

  Once more, we walked around to the front door and entered Wallingford House. At Margaret Ellingham’s direction, Mathers sent for Sally and the two of us were soon seated in the housekeeper’s office.

  Sally appeared older than me, with large, roughened hands and a face full of freckles. She stared at me, waiting for me to let her know why she’d been called away from her work.

  “I understand that you are in charge of the linen closet down the hallway.”

  “Yes.”

  “And you keep a close eye on it.”

  “I don’t want nobody to steal the duke’s sheets.”

  “And you don’t want anyone to use the tunnel behind it without paying you a toll.”

  “Can’t have anybody wrinkling the sheets. I have to iron them.”

  “The night Lady Theo died, she left by the tunnel.”

  She gave me a calculating look. “Did she?”

  “We know she did. She was murdered down there. Her blood’s on the stones.”

  “Coulda been anybody.”

  “Do people routinely get butchered down there?”

  Her skin paled as she swallowed.

  “All I want to know is what time did Lady Theo go down there that night?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Really? How do you collect your toll if you don’t know who’s using the tunnel?”

  “How much trouble am I in?”

  “I’m not going to squeal on your little money maker. Not if you honestly tell me what time Roxanne went into the tunnel, or why you don’t know.”

  Her defiance seemed to leak out of her. “I can keep an eye on the cupboard during the day and evening, but not at night. Then I have to rely on the valets and lady’s maids telling me. Roxanne’s lady’s maid told me she went out, all dressed up, through the tunnel about eleven.”

  “Did you collect your toll for that trip?”

  “Couldn’t, could I? She was dead by then.”

  Sally didn’t have anything else useful to tell me. I went back upstairs to meet with the two ladies. “We can’t do any more until we can talk to Miss Lawson and Mr. Watson. And I need to get back to work.”

  I stared at Lady Kaldaire. “Please send word when we can interview those two.” Then I turned to the other lady. “Lady Ellingham, thank you for making it possible for the police to learn where Roxanne was murdered. And now I have a pretty good idea of the time of her death.”

 
I knew I was being abrupt, but I needed to get back to my millinery. Finding Roxanne’s killer, as much as I wanted to, wouldn’t pay the bills.

  As I turned to leave, Lady Margaret said, “I’ll speak to my father about giving Miss North a reference. None of this was her fault.”

  I smiled at her. “Thank you. Miss North will be very glad.”

  * * *

  Things went along peacefully until eleven the next morning, when a liveried servant of the Duke of Blackford brought me a note. Miss Lawson will see us at three today, it read. Mr. Watson won’t meet us and finds our curiosity about his sister’s death morbid. He has forbidden Miss Lawson to speak of his sister.

  It’s been years since I was involved in an investigation. I look forward to assisting you with this one. Roxanne, also known as Lady Theo, deserves justice.

  We’ll take my carriage.

  Georgia Ranleigh, Duchess of Blackford

  I read it through twice. A duchess was involving herself in an investigation insisted upon by Lady Kaldaire. I doubted there was any reason for me to tag along. Still, if Roxanne really was going to get justice, I’d better be a part of this.

  Just as important, someone had to ask what really happened to Victoria Abbott.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  At twenty minutes before three that afternoon, a shiny black carriage with a gilded crest painted on the door pulled up in front of my shop. Jane peeked out the window and whistled. “You’ll be traveling in style today.”

  “Wish me luck. I don’t want to have to do this again.” Through the window I could see people across the street openly staring. I didn’t want to step out onto the pavement and have my neighbors crowd me in their desire to gaze inside the carriage. “How do I look?”

  “Like an aristocrat.”

  I deliberately wore violet and gray, the colors of second mourning. My clothes were slightly out of date, but mourning clothes were less likely to be stylish even though frequently worn, and wouldn’t be so out of place in a room full of the titled and wealthy. Plus, with my reddish hair, the combination looked good on me.