by Beth Byers
It wasn’t an apology, Vi had told herself. It was a reminder and a present. Vi had no idea if it would do double duty, but surely it would be given to Isolde one day, and Vi thought her half-sister would like it.
Vi might have been feeling a little angry when she’d shopped for her father and his wife. She’d done better by Geoffrey even if he’d gotten an antique book about being a Corinthian along with several adventure books, a ridiculously large box of chocolates, and money. That’s what young men truly wanted, wasn’t it? A little ready money to put on a good show with their friends?
“I was spiteful,” Vi muttered. “That wasn’t the right spirit for the days. I should have put aside my rancor and—”
“What did your stepmother send you?” Jack asked.
Vi rolled her eyes and admitted, “A list of methods women have used for ages to help get pregnant.”
Jack coughed on the laugh and wasn’t successful in hiding it.
“She sent the ingredients. Apparently cinnamon and honey help.”
“That does sounds tasty,” Jack told her. “Could we just eat baklava?”
“Given that I don’t wish to be pregnant, I suspect we might need to just not…indulge.”
“Or give up cinnamon,” he countered, tugging her close and kissing her on the nose. “Did you send your gift for her before or after you received the special advice?”
“After,” Violet muttered. “It was full of spite even if I tried to be the better person.”
“If you sent her anything other than a box of beetles, you were being kind, Vi.”
Violet finished arranging her jewelry as Jack adjusted his tie. “What do you think now that you’ve spent more time with Livingstone?”
“I can see why you don’t like him,” Jack admitted. “I’m not sure I like him either. He spent a lot of time in the room with the broken window. Smith did a good job on that scene. There wasn’t anything for Livingstone to see, so why did he search every inch of the room?”
Violet shook her head. Smith had an eye for deceit, so she had no doubt that he’d created something convincing but vague. “Did he take pictures of it?”
“He did, but I went ahead and took some as well just to frustrate him.”
Vi lifted a brow. “I’m not the only devil in this duo.”
Jack laughed as he said, “I did question him about the caretaker before I infuriated him. The man’s name is Hughes. He has worked for the owner for ages.”
“Does he have a telephone?”
“He’s not on the telephone, but—”
Vi eyed Jack, waiting since he clearly wanted to draw it out.
“The fellow lives just through the wood with his daughter.”
Vi gasped. “His daughter?”
Jack nodded. “Livingstone doesn’t seem to like young Margaret, who is a bit too manly and too likely to be suspected of poaching, and yet continually never leaving any evidence.”
“Isn’t it evidence just that she’s smarter than him?”
“Vi, from what I can tell, he’s clever enough, but he’s growing frustrated.”
“After one afternoon?” Vi mocked. “Just wait until he’s had to deal with us for a good week or two. He’ll be crying into his pint.”
“Ah,” Jack mocked, “victory.”
Chapter 16
The snow had melted enough the next morning that Violet immediately claimed the automobile at breakfast right after she claimed two cups of Turkish coffee. She intended to visit Mrs. MacAdam and seek after local gossip. Surely local gossip would help them end this investigation by leading them to the evidence.
Vi took both cups to the table and ignored the food. It smelled wonderful, but nothing mattered except the coffee. It might be the day before they celebrated the birth of Christ, but she felt as though heaven were shining down on her at that moment through those cups of perfection. Violet took that first perfect sip which everyone knew was the best sip. No other moment in the day was as tasty as the first sip of coffee.
She sighed, breathing out, “Suddenly it feels like Christmas.”
Denny giggled, but Jack ruined the fun by asking, “You are going to eat, aren’t you.” It was both a question and a careful demand. “That will give you a stomachache if you don’t eat.”
“Yes, dearest Father,” Vi mocked, but she winked her love to take out the sting.
It was Jack’s turn to roll his eyes at her when he placed the plate he’d just made in front of her. Blood sausage, chicken sausage, bacon, beans, fried tomatoes, fresh toasted bread, and four eggs sunny side up. The best that could be said of it was that at least there was only two pieces of toast. They were, however, lathered with both an excess of butter and orange marmalade.
He returned a moment later with a second plate that included the things she’d have selected for herself. Namely a simple breakfast bun, grapefruit, and hot-house strawberries. Vi took a piece of bacon and the grapefruit while Jack made himself another oversized platter of food.
“Eat that,” Jack told her. “None of us ate as much as we usually do these last days. Your body needs it.”
She was hardly starving. They were hardly starving. In fact, nearly all of them could use a little more exercise and a little less indulging. Ham, who had tended to fat when Vi had met him, was exempt because he worked continually on preventing the same fate once again.
“Yes, Vi, eat,” Victor said with enough of a smirk to know he was deliberately causing trouble. “You don’t want to get sick.”
She ignored both of them, but she didn’t push either plate away. Instead, she grazed between the mass of food and focused on her coffee.
“Did you get a vehicle?” Vi asked Smith. They had separated the evening before, and Vi had curled up with a book and read until late.
“MacAdam brought one over last night, didn’t you know?”
Smith adjusted his tie in a way that declared he’d found something. His pretty eyes were sparkling, which always, always, meant something nefarious was happening.
Violet lifted a brow. “You do look rather smug. I wonder if you might share?”
“We committed crimes,” Ham said. “Rita, Smith, and I. Scotland Yard me would be appalled.”
“You did?” Vi gasped followed immediately by one of Denny’s high-pitched giggles.
“We broke into the station office.”
“What did you find? Old tickets? A mess? Scarlet fever? No!” Vi snorted and hissed, “I know! It was a treasure map of this house with an X spot where the office is located. There was a knife through the map, holding it to the desk and a little blood from the killer.”
“Far too much money. And it was in a box with his name on it. It spurred a rather interesting conversation and some disturbing revelations last night.”
“What are we talking? Five hundred pounds?” Vi shot for an amount people might murder over. Especially if the five hundred pounds was attained illegally. Hiding a crime was something people killed over even when the amount might not have pushed them to murder.
“At least five times that much.”
“No!”
“That’s a lot,” Kate added. “That could reset a struggling family and put them on a completely different course if they were wise in the use of it.”
Vi gaped. It was possible to buy an automobile for that much money. It would be a life changing amount for someone like the middle class dead man, especially if he had debts. Many a person would struggle with their conscience when they could imagine so easily how a large amount of money might help their families.
“I can imagine this man being sucked in by too much money. But what does that money have to do this house?”
Smith glanced at Ham. “Always so quick to the next step.”
“We found more,” Rita said, and then to Smith, “Quit drawing it out. Just tell her.”
Vi immediately demanded, “What?” The same question was echoed by Denny, Kate, and Victor. The rest of them seemed to know the answer, exc
ept Lila, who didn’t seem to care when there were Chelsea buns and coffee.
Smith placed a pair of dice on the table and Vi gasped, reaching for them. Dice could mean a lot of things on their own but with that much money…she reached out and picked them up. Rolling them over in her hands, she tried to guess at what they meant exactly. Vi let them fall from her hands. Again and again she rolled them until she was certain they were weighted.
“That makes sense,” she said suddenly. “That makes so much sense. Of course. The house. The lodge that no one ever takes. Look at this place. Covered in sheets as it is. Old as it is. It’s not regularly taken for weekends.”
Rita rubbed the back of her neck and then added. “We guessed that this particular weekend was expected to be successful.”
“What with potential visitors,” Ham added.
“More money to take,” Jack said. “That makes sense. They anticipated visitors and more money in the overall village and gambling pool.”
“Sons and nephews from far away needing a little entertainment.” Rita pushed her plate away. “Terrible really.”
“Christmas gooses to be plucked,” Denny added and then laughed. “They should have just invited us. We’re rich.”
“That’s what I said last night.” Smith cleared his throat. “I’d have happily taken your money over cards and dice.”
“They don’t know if we’re overly religious,” Vi added, “they couldn’t risk it. In this small town, all they know is that we were foolish enough to take this lodge.”
“Famous in our own country,” Kate muttered. “None of these people know who we are. Maybe, if someone were to have mentioned your father, interest might have been peaked.”
“Are you saying that no one in this village cares that we’ve solved cases?” Denny asked.
“Well, Vi, Jack, and Ham have,” Lila told her husband. “I think we all know that you just laugh and eat, lad of mine.”
“There’s more,” Beatrice said. “Before they looked into the train station, Jack and I were left at the police offices. Livingstone wasn’t at the police station, and he wasn’t at his home, which we found after a cold trek through snow and some peeping tom actions.”
“Did you find him?” Vi asked, with a gasp.
“We found a list of places including the local primary school.”
“No!” Vi said. “Do you think they’re going to gamble in the school? Why didn’t I get to play?”
Denny raised his hand to answer and Vi was forced to scoot forward until she was tall enough to kick him. “We ate until we were full, started in the library, and then napped.”
“We did!” Vi said, scrunching her nose up. “We let the others go about their ways, and we learned nothing.”
“I learned that Livingstone doesn’t know what to do when you trace your finger on his arm, and bat your lashes,” Lila announced. “I had him blushing until he begged me for coffee. Only I lost him after that and didn’t find him until he was leaving again.”
“Lila,” Denny said firmly even though his eyes were panicked and his hands were actually shaking, “if your right hand offend thee, cut it off. I need to know what finger it was, so we can cut it off and save our family. Think of Lily. Do it for the baby.”
Lila held her fingers in front of her, waggled them and then said coolly, “I can take you, my lad.”
“Regardless,” Vi cut in, “regardless…”
“Regardless,” Smith added with that smirk that said he’d figured out the crime.
“You have more.” Vi gestured to Smith. “Tell me more. Quit playing.”
“Weighted dice, money, the desire for an empty lodge.” Smith sniffed and crossed his fingers in his lap as if preparing for an interview with his school’s headmaster.
Violet’s gaze narrowed. He was playing with her and the others were enjoying it. “The caretaker is clearly involved. Why the girl lurking about the property?”
“To see if we had left,” Jack suggested and Vi shot him a look that said she’d have gotten there.
“Those dirty—” Vi trailed off and she rose to pace the room. “What do we know? We know that MacAdam isn’t involved. He’s been helping us too much.”
“I think we know something else,” Jack said. “We know that Livingstone is involved.”
Vi’s gaze widened. “He was so angry about that break in scene. He kept looking for holes in it.”
Jack nodded. “More than that.”
“Because,” Denny crowed, “he did it! He did it! It has to have been him. The killer. The dirty bastard. He knows we’re lying because he was in the house. That’s why he was so offended by our united story. He could easily have seen our shadows around the house. He might even have tiptoed through and listened at doors.”
“Ohhhh,” Vi groaned. “Do you think?” Even as she finished the question she was nodding. Maybe he hadn’t searched the house, but Vi and Jack’s light had been on in their room for some time. It was reasonable to guess that they had been in their room. “I think. You think so too?”
Lila nodded, followed by Victor who added, “He was aggressive in demanding if we’d been ill. If they knew about the lie of illnesses, maybe they thought we were faking.”
“Why would we fake being ill?” Kate asked.
“Well we did fake that night,” Victor said reasonably. “We all went to bed when you and I got pulled away for Lion’s feeding.”
“But we were sick. It wasn’t inconceivable that the shock of the death pushed us back to bed,” Kate said.
“He was aggressive because he knew we were lying, and he was offended and bothered that none of us broke.”
“They were aggressive with the questions about Smith and Beatrice.” Vi paused and then her head tilted. “And Lila lost him. No.” Vi shook her head. “He got rid of her. He got rid of her and she didn’t find him until later. Have you searched your room?”
Smith grinned and then put a knife on the table.
She stared. He’d been sitting with a knife in his lap, casually eating breakfast. A bloody knife wrapped in, if Vi wasn’t mistaken, one of Smith’s own shirts. Notably, the blood had dried on the knife but hadn’t transferred to Smith’s shirt. That dirty constable. He’d thought to use Smith’s clothes, but hadn’t realized that Smith would have hidden the knife while it was bloody.
“It turns out that you and I have the same nature as Livingstone. Our minds follow the same paths if you will.”
“He wasn’t expecting us to be as much of a rapscallion as him.” Vi laughed. “The poor fool. He probably thinks we’re spoiled and drunken flappers and doesn’t realize how often we delve into crime.”
“Oooh,” Victor said. “We need to use that word in our next book. Also, why would he know anything about us? We might be somewhat notorious in our own country, but here—in this tiny village? I doubt they care very much about London crime.”
“Our newest villain, the fencer with mismatching gloves,” Vi declared. “Rapscallion of the East.”
“Why the East?” Victor demanded.
“It’s fun to say,” Vi declared. “Say it!”
“Rapscallion of the East,” Victor and Denny said in unison.
Denny snorted, then laughed and then choked on his laugh, holding his side as he tried to recover. Victor, on the other hand, laughed until he coughed and ended up curled up on his side.
“Someone is going to be very disappointed,” Beatrice said easily. “It should be interesting to see how Livingstone will play this out.”
“I wager he’ll be here today to arrest us and then run his primary school gambling den this evening.”
Chapter 17
Vi turned to Jack, prepared to scold him for not telling her what they’d learned, but she had fallen asleep on the Chesterfield with her book. She started to bemoan her fate and then remembered him lifting her and murmuring to her.
She might have snapped at him. She might, she remembered, have told him that he had no respect for sleep
and the weaknesses of others. She closed her mouth quickly, but she caught the glint in his eyes. He knew what she’d been prepared to say, and he knew she’d recalled her guilt.
Before he could tease her, the doorbell rang fervently. The man laid on the buzzer and then laid on it again. It was aggressive and headache promoting.
“He’s going to bother the children,” Kate said with a sigh.
“That’s why we have nannies,” Victor told her. “Don’t get up. Eat. You’re feeding Lion too, my love.”
“The knife!” Vi declared. “He’s come to find the knife in your socks.”
“It was between the mattress and the bed,” Smith said, unbothered.
“That seems unsafe,” Rita muttered. “Those mattresses are quite thin and uncomfortable as it is. He really should have hidden it better.”
“Amateur,” Smith told her. “We’d have found it just because it was uncomfortable, but just because we’re criminal minded enough to look for it first doesn’t mean that we wouldn’t have felt it.”
“The poor fool,” Vi murmured, her gaze fixed on the bloody knife. They really were becoming callous. Jack had just popped more bacon in his mouth.
“I’m curious,” Smith said as the doorbell rang again. “Why don’t you think it was me who killed him? After all, here is the bloody knife. It’s wrapped in my own shirt and found in my bedroom. You know I wasn’t in the room with you when the murder happened.”
Vi looked at Smith, but her attention was caught by Beatrice who was smirking. “Is that smugness I see, Beatrice?”
“On my face?” Beatrice asked, and then slowly grinned. “Perhaps.”
There was the sound of footsteps in the hall and Lila lazily snaked out a hand and placed the knife in her lap. She covered it with her napkin and then covered it with Denny’s. “Get me coffee, my lad.”
“If you engineered this murder,” Violet said easily, unbothered by the approaching constable, “and then you engineered our support with those pretty eyes, I suppose I would have to salute you.”
The dining room door opened and Constable Livingstone appeared in the door. His eyes were bloodshot. He must be tired after murdering a fellow, hiding evidence, and setting up a new gambling den. It showed. He shot them all a dark look and then imperiously announced, “We’ve had a tip.”
