Lady Rample Sits In

by Shéa MacLeod

  I sighed. “That’s what I was afraid of.”

  He eyed me. “I didn’t think you wanted anything serious.”

  “I don’t. But I guess I want whatever it is we do have to mean something. I’d like us to be not serious together. Does that make sense?”

  “Strangely, it does. What will you do?”

  “No idea, but in the meantime, I’m focusing all my attention on murder.”

  The barman must have spoken more English than he’d let on earlier, because he suddenly looked very nervous.

  Chapter 13

  That night we watched Sir Eustace’s place carefully. At twenty minutes to ten, he exited the villa, climbed into his car, and took off in a spray of dust and gravel.

  “Go!” I shouted, giving Chaz a little shove. He and Aunt Butty climbed over the low wall and into Sir Eustace’s garden while Louise and I kept watch and Mr. Singh guarded the ‘phone.

  Once in the garden, Aunt Butty switched on the torch and aimed it around. Chaz, carrying a spade he’d found in the utility room, pointed rather dramatically at the edge of the garden where the rose bushes stood sentry.

  I watched as the torch beam moved about garden, flitting from rose bush to rose bush like a slow-moving moth. It finally lit on the rose where Peaches had been digging and Chaz brought his spade to bear. It bit into the dirt with a slight chink.

  “I think they’ve found something,” I murmured.

  “This is incredibly exciting,” Louise said, her voice a loud bark rather than the whisper she intended.

  From inside the house, I could hear Mr. Singh’s low murmur. And then he appeared in the doorway. “He’s headed back.”

  “That was fast,” Louise said. “I don’t like it.”

  I turned on my own torch and flashed the light at the rose bushes. Aunty Butty waved hers back, craning her neck to see.

  “Hurry!” I shouted. “He’s on his way.”

  Aunt Butty swung back to Chaz and the light bobbed around some more. I could hear the faint sounds of Chaz pounding dirt into place, covering up the evidence of our investigations.

  Finally, just as headlights loomed at the end of Sir Eustace’s driveway, the torch bobbed our way.

  “He’s coming!” I shouted, dashing back to the table where Louise joined me. Mr. Singh, brilliant man, quickly passed ‘round cocktails as if we were having a midnight soiree.

  Meanwhile, Aunt Butty and Chaz hotfooted it back over the wall in the dark, having switched off their torch. Chaz quickly dropped into a chair, dumping something under the table. I didn’t get a good look at it. Aunt Butty sat down primly as if she had all the time in the world. By the time Sir Eustace parked his vehicle, we were all sipping calmly at our cocktails and enjoying the stars, as if we’d nothing more important on our minds.

  At first, he didn’t see us as he entered the house, his footsteps making a quick staccato on the floor. It was the sound of anger and frustration. Was he aware he’d been lured away under false pretenses?

  As if drawn by our conversation, he stepped out into his garden and peered across at us. Aunt Butty had the temerity to wave at him.

  “Hullo, Sir Eustace. Join us for a cocktail?”

  He shook his head, his face covered by shadows. But as he turned to go, a bit of light flashed across his face and I froze. What the devil?

  I squinted, trying to get a better look, but he’d already passed inside. The doors banged shut behind him. My mind raced, trying to make sense of what I’d seen.

  “Finally,” Aunt Butty broke the silence. “Let’s see what’s in that bundle we found, shall we?”

  Chaz brought it out from under the table and slowly unwrapped it. Something hit the table with a thunk.

  We all stared in horror, unable to speak.

  Finally, Louise said, “Oh, my.”

  “Understatement of the century,” Chaz muttered.

  For there, lying innocently on the dirty, cream-colored cloth, was a hammer coated in blood.

  “HE HIT HER ON THE HEAD, obviously,” Aunt Butty said, pointing to the hammer. “This is your murder weapon right here. Just as you said, Ophelia.”

  Enzo had come immediately when Louise called him, despite it being such a late hour. He examined the hammer closely. “It would appear to be blood, yes.”

  “Then you can arrest him,” Aunt Butty said.

  “We still have no proof he killed anyone,” Enzo explained patiently. “We don’t even know if this is human blood.”

  “Then do your tests,” Louise ordered. “Make sure. Because it’s either poor Lady Scrubbs’s blood, or it belongs to my Peaches. Either way, that... fiend needs locked up.” She gave Enzo the eye.

  I tugged Chaz’s arm. “I need to speak to Varant.” I told him how Varant promised to have the trunk watched to see who collected it. I didn’t tell him Varant planned to break into it. Nor did I mention what I’d seen last night. I still wasn’t sure.

  “It’s a bit late, don’t you think? He won’t be pleased you calling him at this hour. And it’s not like Scrubbs is going anywhere, is it?”

  By now, it was nearly two in the morning. In actuality, Varant could still very well be up. “The killer could take off at any time. I have to ring Varant tonight.” He’d promised to keep me apprised, but I couldn’t wait. I needed to know now.

  I dragged Chaz to the telephone and rang a number that by now I knew very well. Varant’s butler picked up. Naturally.

  “I must speak to Lord Varant immediately,” I said in my most imperious tone. I’ve found that servants like Varant’s butler respond best to haughtiness. I much prefer those like Mr. Singh.

  “It is quite late, my lady.” He clearly knew my voice by now. “I’m afraid—” He was cut off and I heard a rumble of voices on the other end. Then...

  “Ophelia,” Varant purred in my ear.

  I was just this shy of fanning myself. Instead, I blurted, “Varant, have you found anything out about the trunk?”

  “I planned to ring you in the morning. I just found out tonight that a woman did collect the trunk this evening.”

  “Who?” I felt a little dizzy and realized I was holding my breath.

  “My man described her as ‘very fancy, dressed in furs, heavily veiled.’ She called herself Lady Scrubbs.”

  Drat, drat, drat. I’d been wrong all along. Wait... “Did you say furs? In September?” Granted, it was the very end of September, but still quite warm, even in England.

  “Caught that, did you?” I could hear the smile in his voice. “My man approached her, offered to help her with her luggage. She assured him she had help. Some unsavory type. But my man followed them to a townhouse in Nottinghill. Only then did the lady remove her veil.”

  “And?” I prodded. I could tell Chaz was as eager to hear the results as I was. We practically had our cheeks pressed together.

  “And... it wasn’t Lady Scrubbs. It was a young blonde woman. No idea her name. I’ll be giving her a visit in the morning. I’ll also be ringing the local constabulary there in France. I’m sure they’ll bring Scrubbs in for questioning at the very least.”

  “Thank you, Varant.”

  “Don’t forget you owe me.” His tone was rife with meaning.

  I hung up with a shiver. “It wasn’t her. I knew it. I knew she was dead.” I gripped Chaz’s arm in a vice.

  “Are you forgetting you saw Lady Scrubbs just yesterday?”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “Right. So I guess we wait until tomorrow,” Chaz said, pulling his arm gently out of my grip and shaking it as if to get feeling back.

  “I suppose that’s all we can do.” I suddenly felt... depleted. Exhausted. And a little disappointed. It was all so... anticlimactic. “I’m tired, Chaz. I think I’ll go up to bed.”

  He nodded. “Best thing for you. Good night, old thing.”

  I gave him a kiss on the cheek and then slowly climbed the stairs. It was getting easier, so I must be on the mend.

  Halfway up, I
paused and turned back around. “Chaz, I saw something strange tonight.”

  “What was it?”

  “Sir Eustace. When he came back to the house, I caught just a glimpse of his face. It... didn’t look right.”

  He frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “I’m not sure.” I hesitated. “He didn’t look like himself.”

  He gave me a lopsided grin. “It’s late. We’re all tired. Probably just poor lighting.”

  I sighed. “Maybe.” But I wasn’t convinced. The man was Sir Eustace. And yet, he wasn’t. But how could that be? And what did it mean? My head had started aching again.

  Maddie was in my room to help me undress. She chattered on about this and that. I wasn’t really paying attention.

  “Should I close the window, m’lady? Bit of a breeze off the water. Don’t want you catching your death.”

  “No, thank you, Maddie. But the fresh air is nice. Leave it be.”

  “G’night, m’lady.” And she slipped out the door quiet as a ghost.

  I lay awake for a long time, wondering what would happen next. Why Sir Eustace had found it necessary to murder his poor wife. And where, oh where, was Peaches?

  Chapter 14

  I woke suddenly, unable to breathe. Something was covering my face! I shoved at it, but it only bore down harder.

  I realized then that it was a pillow. Fingers gripped the edges. Someone was smothering me.

  Reaching out, I grabbed a book from my bedside stand and whopped my attacker on the side of the head. There was a unintelligible grunt. The grip on the pillow loosened, and I managed to shove it away long enough to get a good breath. Then, before I could scream, it was back. Pressing down, down, shoving me into darkness.

  I whapped my attacker with the book again. Singularly ineffective. So I dropped the book and raked my nails down his cheek. Hard.

  He howled and staggered back, releasing his grip on the pillow. I threw it off, smacked him with the book again, then jumped out of bed. Out in the hall I heard shouts, but I was too focused on the task at hand to pay it any mind.

  My attacker had his hand to his face, and the light was so dim I couldn’t make out his face. He dropped his hand and glared at me. “You witch.” It came out as a hiss. “You’re going to pay for that.”

  “Am I?” I asked as if only mildly interested, but inside my heart was thudding hard against my ribcage. “What have you done with the body?”

  He advanced on me. Slowly like a cat after an unsuspecting mouse. I didn’t like the comparison. He still hissed rather than spoke aloud, “What do you think happened?”

  “I think you chopped it up and put it somewhere. Maybe that trunk that’s now in London.”

  “How astute.”

  “Why?” I demanded, refusing to retreat. “Why did you do it?” Although I was sure I already knew the answer.

  “Does it matter?”

  “It does to me.”

  The attacker shrugged a little and I noticed hands curled into claws. “I’d had enough.”

  “Understandable. But murder is never the right choice.”

  “But it is. It’s the only choice.” The attacker lunged after me, but I darted out of the way. He only managed to grab a bit of my nightgown’s sleeve. The thin fabric tore in his grasp, one sleeve fluttering to the floor.

  “Hey! That was my favorite nightgown!”

  “Women,” he said in disgust.

  I knew what he meant. My life was in danger, and I was worrying about my wardrobe. But the reality was that I was very clear about the danger I was in. However, letting on that I had a brain in my head simply wouldn’t do. My best recourse was for my attacker to underestimate me.

  I backed up to my desk, feeling behind me for a weapon. My fingers touched something cold. I held back a smile as I wrapped my hand around the perfect thing.

  He lunged again. This time I didn’t move out of the way. Instead, with a scream of rage, I stabbed him with the letter opener. Right in the shoulder.

  He roared. The door crashed open. Light flooded the room.

  Chaz and Mr. Singh to the rescue.

  “Good gosh, it’s not Sir Eustace,” Chaz said, staring into the face of my attacker. “It’s Lady Scrubbs!”

  “Ophelia, are you all right?” Aunt Butty called from the doorway as the men wrestled my attacker to the ground.

  “Perfectly fine, darling. But I fear I need a new nightgown.”

  IT WAS QUITE SOME TIME before things were quiet again. The police had arrived—along with Enzo—to put Elenore under arrest. Then they’d searched the villa next door, no doubt for further evidence of her crime, although everyone seemed confused as to what that might be.

  They were even more confused when they found a man hiding in Lady Scrubbs’s private bathroom.

  “Isn’t that Sir Eustace?” Chaz asked as the police marched him out in handcuffs.

  “It looks like him,” Aunt Butty said. “Except—”

  “Except he’s a few inches shorter and a few pounds lighter,” I pointed out. “That is not the Sir Eustace who we met on the ship.”

  “Then who is it?” Chaz demanded.

  Aunt Butty clapped a hand over her mouth. “They look nearly alike. Could it be Sir Eustace’s brother? Baron Vessy?”

  “I think maybe you’re right,” I agreed. “Do you suppose he was in on it with Elenore?”

  “In on what?” Aunt Butty asked.

  “Sir Eustace’s murder. Elenore said she had enough. Maybe Baron Vessy felt sorry for her. His brother was ghastly.”

  “So he helped bump off his own brother?” Chaz rubbed his jaw. “That might be a bit of a stretch. Let’s see what the police have to say.”

  The good news was that a young policeman arrived, accompanied by a yapping dog. Louise had nearly fainted with joy. Apparently, Peaches hadn’t been killed at all, but Elenore had instead locked him in a storage room with food and water. We’d no idea what she’d planned to do with Peaches, but at least she’d cared for him properly. Louise was over the moon to have her pet back.

  While the police were searching next door, Enzo rang Varant. Naturally, I listened in. It’s what I do.

  “My men stormed the place,” Varant said as if it were an everyday sort of thing. “They opened the trunk and you’ll never believe what they found.”

  “Sir Eustace’s body,” I chimed in.

  Enzo shot me a glare. But Varant said, “Very nearly.”

  “What do you mean, very nearly?” I demanded.

  “Turns out the woman at the station is Lady Scrubbs’s niece. We’re still getting the details out of her, but she claims that Lady Scrubbs and Sir Eustace merely asked her to collect the trunk for them. She’d no idea what was in it.”

  “Let me guess. They murdered Baron Vessy so Sir Eustace could inherit the title,” I guessed.

  Enzo stared at me, but Varant just chuckled. “You always were a clever one.”

  After that, Enzo sat Lady Scrubbs and Sir Eustace down in my sitting room. He gave them both a long, hard stare. “We know the two of you murdered you brother, Baron Vessy. The English police have found his body, and your niece has been arrested.”

  Elenore lifted a pale face. Next to her sat Sir Eustace who did look remarkably like the man I’d met on the ship, but with a kinder and wearier mien.

  “Algernon was a terrible person,” Elenore said. “Horrid. Every day he treated poor Eustace like garbage and me he treated worse than a piece of garbage. He didn’t deserve the title. Eustace does. And since he doesn’t have any children...” She spread her hands as if it explained everything.

  “It means if he died, your husband would inherit the title, the lands, and the money,” I finished. “How did you manage it?”

  She gave me a hard little smile. “Algernon has been trying to get me into bed for years. He may have treated me like dirt, but he still wanted me. Probably because I was Eustace’s. He wanted everything Eustace had, and poor Eustace never could stand up to hi
m, could you darling?”

  Sir Eustace gave a tight smile but remained silent.

  “So when Algernon went to America on business, I met him in New York. Convinced him to join me in France for a little get away at the villa,” she nodded next door. “He couldn’t say no.” She gave a little shrug. “My plan was almost spoiled when that aunt of yours appeared.”

  Aunt Butty made an outraged sound, but I shushed her. “But she had never seen Sir Eustace. She wouldn’t have known it was really Baron Vessy with you.”

  “No,” Elenore admitted, “but she was the only person aboard who knew me and I didn’t want Algernon slipping up. She might figure it out.”

  Something clicked. “So you put on a disguise and pushed my maid into the water!”

  “Well, it worked, didn’t it? Kept her busy. And kept Algernon from telling her something stupid. Clueless, that man. All he could talk about was getting to France. What he didn’t know was that Eustace was already here, waiting. So when we arrived, Eustace hit him over the head with a hammer.”

  “Baron Vessy was hit more than once,” Enzo pointed out.

  “Well, I had to bash him a time or two to make sure it stuck.” She said it as calmly as one might say, “I fed him liver and onions.”

  “That was the scream I heard the night of the storm?” I asked, feeling a bit queasy.

  She nodded.

  “I thought it was you. At least until I saw you the next morning.”

  She laughed, but it was bitter and dry. “Algernon always did scream like a woman.”

  “But we saw him after that night,” Chaz protested.

  I shook my head. “No, we didn’t. We just thought we did. But it was the real Sir Eustace, wasn’t it?”

  She smiled, and it was a little... disturbing. “We knew you would all be watching. It’s what neighbors do. Of course, we hadn’t met you when we put the plan together, but we figured that the neighbors would never notice that the man who went into the house wasn’t the same one who went out. After all, they look very alike. And since everyone on the ship believed Algernon was Sir Eustace, something he went along with since we were being rather naughty—everyone would simply think that Sir Eustace and I had gone on holiday. We’d return to find that our dear brother had passed, and everything would be ours!”