Death at Dinner

by L. A. Nisula

  “And you brought the tea because?”

  The change of subject was abrupt, and I wondered if he was still trying to trip me. “Ross was in no condition to bring it, and I thought Mrs. Albright ought to stay with Ms. Pomeroy since they are friends and Mrs. Pomeroy was very upset by the news.”

  “If he was in no condition to serve the tea, how was he the rest of the evening?”

  I tried to think how to phrase it without making him seem suspicious “I think he started on his bottles early in the evening.”

  “So he was able to greet the guests when they arrived?”

  “He was, actually. That was when he started to...um...have difficulties. I think whatever he has in the hall closet is quite strong.”

  “So you were with him when he let the guests in?”

  “Mrs. Pomeroy thought it best.”

  “So you saw them all arrive. What do you know of Mr. Ainsworth’s movements tonight?”

  I thought back. “He arrived with Mrs. Delford. They were the second group to arrive. He met with Mr. Carrollton in the office to discuss some business matter. He was going to call the office about someone called Clawton, but Mrs. Delford had taken care of it. Same with the Ryan papers. Come to think of it—” I paused as the new idea formed in my mind.

  Inspector Hamilton gave me a few moments to think, then prompted me, “Go on. You noticed something.”

  “I just realized, everything he said seemed like an excuse to get away from Mrs. Delford. He was trying to get in touch with the office without having her around.”

  “So he went to Mr. Carrollton’s study to get away from her?”

  “No, I think that was genuine. It was the other stuff that was a dodge. Almost like he didn’t want her to know about the meeting with Mr. Carrollton.”

  Inspector Hamilton scribbled his notes. “So he met with Mr. Carrollton, and that was the last you saw of him until you served dinner?”

  “No, I saw him in the kitchen. He came down to ask Mrs. Pomeroy to sew on a button. She was busy finishing last-minute details, so I did it for him.”

  “Did he say anything?”

  “He asked Mrs. Pomeroy what she was preparing for dinner, and he joked about Ross’s drinking. There was a bottle in the china cabinet.”

  “Did he look around?”

  “No. I finished the button, and he went to join the others. Then it was almost time for dinner.”

  “Which you helped Ross serve.”

  “Exactly.”

  “And that was because—”

  “He was at least two sheets to the wind, and Mrs. Pomeroy didn’t want him to drop anything.”

  “And how did it go?”

  I thought about it. “It seemed a bit iffy at times, but he managed pretty well. He didn’t spill anything at least.”

  “Could he have been faking?”

  “Oh, I don’t think so. I caught him trying to hide bottles from me more than once, really trying, not sneaking a nip for show.”

  “And the bottles were where?”

  “China cupboard in the kitchen, the silver cabinet in the pantry, and the pocket of a mackintosh in the hall closet. There may have been more; that’s just what I noticed.”

  “You implied that you didn’t see much in the dining room. Describe what you did see.”

  I told him as much detail as I could everything I’d seen. Inspector Hamilton scribbled his notebook while I spoke.

  “You said you didn’t know Mr. Ainsworth, correct?”

  “Correct.”

  “What about the others?”

  “Just Mrs. Albright. She’s the one who asked me to come and help out.”

  “You said you’ve done typing for the Yard, which officers?”

  “Wainwright, Burrows, and occasionally Peterson.”

  “All right. I’ll check with them and see if they’ll vouch for you. Mrs. Albright is your landlady; does that mean you are at the same address?”

  “That’s right.”

  “It’s late. I’ll go find you two a cab. Constable Topling is outside. You should be perfectly safe waiting by the servants' entrance.”

  “I’ll get Mrs. Albright then. Thank you.”

  I found Mrs. Albright waiting for me in the cloakroom off of the kitchen. We said our good-byes to Mrs. Pomeroy — Ross had already disappeared — then went out onto the stairs where Constable Topling was standing. While we waited for the cab, I told Mrs. Albright about being questioned, leaving out the bit where Inspector Hamilton suspected me.

  When I’d finished, Mrs. Albright asked, “Do you think that it is murder?”

  “Inspector Hamilton seems to be treating it as one. I wonder why.”

  We both stopped talking when Inspector Hamilton leaned over the railing around stairwell. “Ladies? I have a cab for you.” I hadn’t expected him to see to the cab himself, but he waited until we made it up the stairs and had given our address to the driver. It was an old-fashioned horse-drawn hansom, not one of the new steam-powered ones. I wondered if that had been the best available, or if Inspector Hamilton had known Mrs. Albright didn’t trust to the newer, faster, less reliable steam cabs. When we were settled inside, I glanced out of the window and saw Inspector Hamilton give the driver a few coins before stepping back to watch us leave.

  Chapter 9

  THE MORNING AFTER THE DINNER PARTY, I had a bit of a lie-in, as they say here, then went out to the bakery down the street for cake and picked up a newspaper on the way back. I didn’t think there would be anything about the murder yet, if it was a murder, but there was a chance, and I wanted to see what the official word was.

  Back home, I put the kettle on and scanned the paper. By the time the kettle started to boil, I’d made it through the first section of the paper with no mention of the Carrollton dinner party.

  I was just settling back down with my tea — Earl Grey with a nice bit of Victoria sponge — when I was interrupted by a frantic pounding on the door. I wasn’t sure if I’d find a damsel running from a penny-dreadful villain or a bill collector at the wrong flat when I opened the door. I’d barely gotten the door open when Mrs. Albright burst in with Mrs. Pomeroy just behind her. “It was poison.”

  It took me a minute to associate that with Mr. Ainsworth’s death. “Are you certain?”

  Mrs. Pomeroy nodded. “They came early this morning and took everything from the dinner preparations.”

  I brought extra cups from the kitchen. “But that doesn’t make any sense. Everyone at the table ate from the same serving plates.”

  “That’s what Mr. Carrollton said, but they took everything. Even the plates.”

  I‘d thought Mr. Carrollton wanted to save everything from the meal so he could give it to the police, but Mrs. Pomeroy looked so upset I didn’t want to add to her distress.

  Mrs. Albright spotted my teapot and started pouring out. The distraction gave me a chance to think.

  “Maybe they just want to rule out all of the food. Inspector Hamilton struck me as a very thorough man.”

  “Then why am I being summoned to Scotland Yard?” Mrs. Pomeroy’s voice went up as she spoke, ending in something like a squeak.

  “That’s why we’re here.” Mrs. Albright gave Mrs. Pomeroy a cup of my tea. “We want you to come with us. You’re so good at dealing with policemen. And you know people there.”

  I was ready to make up an excuse — just because I was known at Scotland Yard didn’t mean I was popular, but I saw Mrs. Pomeroy’s hand shake as she took the teacup. “I suppose I could come along for moral support, but I don’t think I’d be much other help.”

  “I knew you would come.” Mrs. Albright was beaming at me.

  As I went to get my hat and bag, I saw Mrs. Albright give Mrs. Pomeroy my cake. It did seem to perk her up a little.

  ~ * ~ * ~

  At Scotland Yard, I gave Mrs. Pomeroy’s name at the reception desk, and we were sent directly up to Inspector Hamilton’s office, which turned out to be a small closet of a room, ba
rely big enough to hold a desk and a filing cabinet. Through the door, I could see Inspector Hamilton was seated behind the desk, looking at a file of papers that he had balanced over the clutter spread out across the blotter. I recognized the folder as the sort used for case files, so I deduced he was most likely reviewing his own notes.

  When the three of us entered his office, Inspector Hamilton’s eyebrows shot up. Clearly he hadn’t been expecting the whole lot of us to turn up. But he hid it quickly. “Mrs. Pomeroy, thank you for coming. I wanted to verify the menu you served.”

  “It couldn’t have been my food. I’ve cooked for Mr. Carrollton—” I could hear her voice going up again, threatening to surpass the heights it had reached in my flat.

  Inspector Hamilton must have heard the same things in her voice as I did, since he interrupted her almost at once. “We believe we know how the poison was administered; we just want to confirm what was eaten.”

  Mrs. Pomeroy sat down abruptly. Inspector Hamilton belatedly moved his hat and coat to the file cabinet so he could offer me and Mrs. Albright the chairs revealed underneath.

  “Well, we started with salmon mousse, then salad, then the soup, and the poached whitefish with asparagus was supposed to come next, followed by strawberry trifle, but of course we never got that far, so Ross and I had the trifle for a late night tea after you left. We’re both fine. Well, Ross isn’t feeling so well, but that had nothing to do with the trifle. His head, you see.”

  “Mr. Ross has a room at the house? I thought he was no longer part of the household.”

  “No, he isn't, but he was wandering in the back garden after you left saying he couldn’t find a cab, so I had him bed down in the coatroom with some cushions from the settee in the servants’ sitting room.”

  “And why was Ross there to begin with?”

  “Most our regular staff was ill.”

  “But why Ross, specifically?”

  “He had been employed in the house as butler before Mr. Belmont, so Mr. Carrollton remembered him.”

  “And the other replacement staff?”

  “It was very last-minute, so I asked my dear friend Agnes here, and she found Cassie for me.”

  “Miss Pengear is one of my lodgers.”

  Inspector Hamilton moved a few things around on his cluttered desk so he could make space for a box he had under his chair. “And back to the dinner menu. I have some bottles here. Was anything else to drink served?”

  Mrs. Pomeroy looked at the bottles lined up in the box. “Brandy when they arrived. The Chardonnay was meant for the fish. The Burgundy from the study after dinner. And the Vouvray with the first course and kept through the salad. That seems right.”

  “Nothing else? No tea?”

  “Not before he — not before.”

  “And then there were buckets of it. Very well, that was all I needed.”

  “So I can leave?” Mrs. Pomeroy sprang to her feet, bumping the desk in her haste. “I’m so sorry.”

  Inspector Hamilton covered his hand in a handkerchief and caught the bits and pieces before they rolled away. “No harm done.”

  I scanned the items: a money clip, a blue enamel pillbox inlaid with gold leaves, a book of matches, a pocket watch, a scrap of paper.

  “I am sorry to have called you over, but I did need to confirm the information for my report—”

  “No trouble at all.” Mrs. Pomeroy was already halfway out the door, probably hoping to get away before he changed his mind.

  Mrs. Albright poked me in the back as she rose to leave. I understood what she was asking. I fumbled with my coat as Mrs. Albright followed Mrs. Pomeroy out the door. When I heard the latch click into place, I looked up.

  Inspector Hamilton was staring at me, waiting. “I’d offer to help you with that, but I think it would defeat the purpose. What did she want you to ask?”

  He didn’t seem upset, so I decide to be honest. “Mrs. Pomeroy is in a state. She’s convinced you suspect her cooking.”

  “I thought it might be something like that. Only natural, I suppose, considering her cooking is her livelihood. I can give you one piece of information that has not been released, if it will stop you from interfering and put her mind at ease.”

  I smiled at him, trying to avoid making a promise I would quite likely not be keeping.

  “I spoke to Inspector Burrows about you. He seems to think you can be trusted. At least to avoid telling anyone else; he seemed to have some doubts about the ‘not interfering’ part. We’re certain the poison was not in the food. It was in his medicine.”

  “The medicine? So you suspect Mrs. Delford? She seemed so devoted.”

  “I said one piece of information, and that’s all you’re getting. That should be enough to put Mrs. Pomeroy’s mind at ease. Now, your friends are probably waiting for you.” He took my coat and held it for me.

  I wanted to stay on Inspector Hamilton’s good side, at least for now, so I slid into my coat, gathered up my handbag and took one last look at the objects on the desk. Inspector Hamilton gave me a good two minutes to stare at the objects, then dropped his papers over them. “Shall I show you to the door?”

  “I think I can manage to find it. Good afternoon.”

  I found Mrs. Albright and Mrs. Pomeroy waiting by the door to the outer office. “Well?” Mrs. Albright had her arm around Mrs. Pomeroy.

  I leaned in as if I was going to open the door for them. “It was in the pills, not the food.”

  I could see the tension leave Mrs. Pomeroy’s shoulders. “I knew it couldn’t be my cooking.”

  I pushed the door open. “Let’s get out of here.”

  “There’s a tea shop just around the corner.”

  I didn’t want to know how Mrs. Albright knew that. “Let’s go there, then.”

  Chapter 10

  THE TEA SHOP WAS MORE of a cafeteria, with steam-powered conveyor belts rotating a selection of prepared food past the stations and small punch cards for the cashier to feed into the till to get the prices, but we were able to get tea, and Mrs. Albright replaced the Victoria sponge she’d given away at my flat, and ordered pound cake for herself and trifle for Mrs. Pomeroy. We were scanning the dining room for a table when Mrs. Albright grabbed my elbow. “Look there.”

  I clung to my tray, managing to save my tea, but my cake slid off of the plate and splatted against the tray, which I wasn’t sure had ever been washed. “What?”

  “Look over there, by the window.”

  I followed her gaze and saw Mrs. Delford sitting by herself at a table that looked out onto the street. She had two pieces of uneaten cake in front of her and was poking at a third one without eating it.

  “Poor thing looks scared to death. We should sit with her.” Mrs. Albright was already crossing the dining room.

  “The police must have been questioning her too. She was the one holding the pills.” Mrs. Pomeroy said as she followed Mrs. Albright across the room.

  I sighed and followed the two of them. By the time I got there, Mrs. Pomeroy was re-arranging the table, making room for us. Mrs. Albright was sitting next to Mrs. Delford, patting her hand. “Cassie, you have to hear her story. She’s had a terrible time of it. They’ve questioned her all morning.”

  Since it was barely eleven, and we’d spent at least half-an-hour in Scotland Yard ourselves and hadn’t seen her, I didn’t think it could have been as long as that, but Mrs. Delford did look upset, and she did make a good suspect. “What kinds of things did they ask you about?”

  “Mostly about his pills. When did he take them. How many. Who else had access. What they were for.”

  “When did he last take the pills?” I asked automatically.

  “With breakfast, as far as I know. Unless he took some on his own.”

  I scraped the cake off of the tray and tried to determine if it was clean enough to eat. “Would he?”

  “If he was feeling poorly.”

  “From your pillbox?”

  “If that was the close
st source,”

  Mrs. Albright took the untouched slice of Victoria sponge from Mrs. Delford and set it down near me.

  I knew it was a bribe, but I went on. “Did anyone else handle his pills?”

  “I was the only one he trusted, besides the chemist and his doctor, of course.”

  “How long have you known him?”

  “My husband was a solicitor at the same firm. Then they became partners and formed the current firm. I was my husband’s secretary for almost twenty years. When he died, Mr. Ainsworth asked me to stay on and work for him. They had been friends, you see, and I had done some odd bits of dictation and letter-writing for him.”

  “How did your husband die?”

  “Gastritis.”

  My ears perked up at that, but I didn’t detect any change in her.

  Mrs. Pomeroy leaned across the table and patted Mrs. Delford’s hand. “You must have had a terrible time of it. They questioned me too. Wanted to know all about the food.”

  “Yes, they seemed obsessed with his pills too. So many questions about those pills.”

  “Well—”

  I kicked Mrs. Pomeroy in the shin before she could let any confidential information slip and glared at Mrs. Albright to prevent her doing the same.

  Mrs. Pomeroy caught on. “Well, they have to ask questions I suppose. It is what they’re paid to do. But you would think they would at least offer a body a cup of tea if they’re going to keep you there.”

  While Mrs. Pomeroy and Mrs. Delford discussed the hardship of being questioned by the police, Mrs. Albright met my eyes then dropped her napkin on the ground. I took the hint and bent to pick it up at the same instant she did. We met under the table.

  “You have to help her, Cassie.”

  “With what?”

  “Investigate. Find out who really did it. What you’re good at doing.”

  Despite what I had said in Inspector Hamilton’s office, I could see that Mrs. Delford was a good suspect. “You realize she very well could be the murderer. She did have his pills.”

  “You don’t really believe that.”

  “I didn’t say that she did it, only that it was possible. I can’t ignore the facts.”