Murder by the Sea

by Beth Byers

  Violet stood and paced, twisting as she walked to remove the last lingering remnants of her aches. As she did, she fiddled with her wedding ring and thought. “What if he was a religious person at some point? He did have those scriptures at the edge of his tongue.”

  “All right—”

  “I imagine that most criminal enterprises are run by…well, fellows who fought their way to their position.”

  “That’s true.”

  “So let's say that young Samuel Richards scrapes together enough money to go do missionary work on one of those islands. Maybe it goes well, maybe it doesn’t, but he runs out of money and he realizes, it would be so easy to—do whatever he’s doing.”

  “Who would suspect a missionary?”

  “No one,” Violet said. “With the collars, the Bible, the ready phrasing, he’d slide along far more easily than some tattooed man with a pirate eyepatch, and a big gaudy rock on his little finger.”

  “So he started small, worked his way into something worthy of note, and then he cut into a real criminal’s profits?”

  “Maybe?” Vi had no idea. It was a wildly imaginative plot she’d strung together out of nothing more than weird letters, weird ledgers, and a general dislike of the fellow. Oh, and of course, that he was dead.

  “It’s just as possible that he worked for some other criminal who was dissatisfied with his work.”

  “Or who he stole all that money from.”

  “Or he could have just been small-time and betrayed the wrong person and it’s not some elaborate larger plan.”

  Violet frowned at Jack, who took her hand, spun her in a circle, and then lifted her over his shoulder. She dangled down his back. “What are you doing?”

  “You’ll think about it all night, Vi. Fall asleep when your mind finally shuts down, and then dream about it. We’re getting hot milk, and you’re going to tell me beautiful things until you sleep.”

  Violet grinned against his back despite the blood rushing to her head. He dropped her onto a kitchen countertop and puttered around until he had milk heating. She preferred to watch him work rather than help until he handed it to her without chocolate or sugar.

  “No, no.” She jumped down, adding vanilla sugar and cocoa before sipping. When they were finished, they left the dishes in the sink and retreated to their room where they took to bed and Violet told him all the beautiful things she could think of until she didn’t remember the journey between a moment of describing lavender on a sunny day and the next moment when she was asleep.

  She’d have been warmed to realize that Jack sat up, pulled up her covers, tucking them close around her, and watched her for long minutes to ensure the frown didn’t appear between her eyebrows before he went to sleep as well.

  Chapter 14

  John Smith was one of those men that was so pretty, he made you think of heaven, angels, and fine art. Until you met his gaze, which was pure devilry. When Jack had been under suspicion of murder, Violet had hired Smith. When she’d needed someone who was willing to dive into illegalities to find evidence of Jack’s innocence, she’d have paid any price and hired anyone. To Violet’s surprise, it was Ham who had recommended Smith.

  “I’m not one to be judgmental,” Smith said, “but what have you all fallen into? I thought my next call from you would be because you fell in with a pack of drunken idiots who accidentally sent a museum on fire.” He eyed Constable Henry, sitting near the parlor entrance in his uniform and watching Smith warily.

  “That does sound like us,” Denny said, “and an excellent idea, but what have you learned?”

  “There isn’t a missionary named Samuel Richards on that ship or connected to the church he named. They didn’t have any missionaries in those islands for years.” Smith paused significantly.

  “But they did at one time?” Vi asked.

  “Vi,” Denny started, holding up a pausing hand to Smith, “let’s discuss. Scavenger hunt by candlelight, do you think we can rent a museum? Something big? Victor can create a special cocktail—”

  Smith ignored Denny and continued, “Sterling Roberts.”

  “No!” Vi said, echoed by the gasps of her friends. “Was there a picture? A drawing? A—”

  “Mother?” Smith nodded. “She sent her boy off during the height of the war when he was to be joining the army. His father told him never to come back. She said her son didn’t have the heart to murder, even in the name of war. And yes, there was a picture, and yes, I stole it. We should probably return it.”

  Violet looked down at the framed picture in Smith’s hands and gasped at the young Brother Samuel.

  “Oh, I couldn’t imagine,” Kate said. “What does she think happened to her son?”

  “Nothing,” Smith said. “She thinks he’s still doing the good work, but she doesn’t mention his name in front of his father. He writes to her. She showed me the letters.” Again there was something in his voice.

  Vi waited.

  “He’s been all over those islands.”

  Violet’s mouth twisted and she rubbed her temple. “Did you tell her he’s dead?”

  The scoffing glance from Smith was enough for Vi to know he had done no such thing. Vi didn’t blame him. Living for years for letters from a son who could never come home while his father lived and now would never come home? They weren’t paying him enough to break that news.

  Violet took in a deep breath, let it out slowly, and then asked, “What about the rest of them?”

  “Parkington Bidlake is actually Poncy Bidlake. He’s not a lord.”

  “Obviously,” Victor, Violet, Denny, and Lila said in unison.

  Smith scowled. “He’s related to some baron or other. Distantly.”

  “What about the rest of them?”

  “I couldn’t find anything about Vernon Atkinson Watts. It’s a miracle I found anything at all on these fellows with this short amount of time. Oscar Watts, however, is a Cambridge graduate who works for a bank.”

  “A bank?” Rita asked, frowning.

  Uh-oh, Violet thought. There went the idea that Oscar didn’t have any idea of who Rita was before the rumors of her inheritance were flying. Her father the bank magnate?

  “The only one that matters,” Violet started and then snapped her mouth shut. “I wonder if the one you can’t find anything about is more interesting than the ones you can find something about.”

  Smith shrugged and then said, “Your man of business is on his way to read your ledgers. I spoke to him and suggested he come over. He said he’d be here before luncheon.”

  Vi nodded. Smith hadn’t been able to learn much more, but he did volunteer to discover what he could. Before he left he said, “I’ll tell you this. I know a fair number of criminals. Even small operations need a few people working. Chances are—your victim’s partner is the killer or knows who might be.”

  “You want to follow them? See what you can find?”

  “I can’t follow four of your suspects, and they just might be idiots who think your friend will fall for them.”

  Violet looked at Rita, who was frowning.

  “I’m sure they were charming,” Kate told Rita consolingly.

  “Your heart was badly bruised,” Lila added. “The attention had to be nice.”

  Rita groaned. “Follow Bidlake. We know he’s a liar.”

  Violet didn’t bother to point out they were all liars. She felt certain, however, that Rita knew Violet was holding back, which made it all the more compelling. Right? Vi took a long breath in and then another slower one. They needed to talk to Rita’s lovers.

  Smith left to find Bidlake while Kate and Violet returned to the paperwork. After several minutes, Kate asked, “What is this?”

  Violet glanced at the receipt in her hand and shook her head.

  “Where’s it for?” Denny asked. He sounded almost as bored as Violet was as she re-read the ledgers. She had no idea what they referred to and reading the codes again that Richards used wasn’t helping.
r />   “A Markum Shipping.”

  “Markum Shipping?” Rita asked, looking up from her log of events. “I know that place. They helped with what I bought while I was traveling. They’re moving it from the ship to London for me.”

  “Oh I’m so dim,” Violet said. “I didn’t even look at the date. That’s from this last voyage, isn’t it?”

  Kate nodded and suggested gently, “We should tell Jack and Ham.”

  Violet agreed and turned towards Henry, who looked relieved that Smith had left. He tensed again, though, when he caught Violet studying him.

  “Detective Inspector Wakefield ordered me very precisely to remain here,” he told her before she could ask.

  “We won’t leave,” Violet lied. They’d leave in a moment with a compelling reason, but the sweet Henry didn’t need to know that.

  “The Detective Inspector warned me not to believe you.”

  Denny’s hoot of laughter drowned at Violet’s groan.

  “Fine. Victor, you go.”

  “Why me?”

  “Denny will likely be distracted by biscuits or cake or something of the like.”

  Denny shook his head. “Possibly a chocolate shop or an ice cream stand. I have standards. A plain butter biscuit isn’t going to do much for me.”

  Vi handed Victor the receipt and said in a stage whisper, “Trust no one.”

  He tucked the receipt into his pocket with a glance to Henry and said, “Don’t trust her.”

  Vi gasped.

  “She drips lies from her mouth as easy as commonplaces. None of them are to be trusted,” Victor added, gesturing at them all. “They are minions for her schemes.”

  Kate rose, patted Victor’s cheek, and then whispered, “She’ll just get vengeance later. You might be her equal normally, Victor darling, but you’re not recovered from months of no sleep.”

  He grinned. “Do you remember last night? I don’t.”

  “I slept the whole night,” she told him with what seemed like an actual grin. “I feel like I could do anything at all.”

  Victor winked, kissed her on the forehead, and then grinned back at Violet. “You realize, of course, that Jack doesn’t trust you not to snow this poor fellow. He warned Henry in advance.”

  “I realize,” Violet said, “a lot of things. Mostly that I’m an idiot and Jack needs to know about that shipment before it gets sent off.”

  Violet lifted a commanding brow and Victor rolled his eyes and kissed her forehead as well. He said,“I suppose Jack thinks the killer might strike again.”

  They all looked at Henry. “Someone broke into the police station last night and riffled through Mr. Richard’s things,” he told them. “The Chief Inspector is concerned whoever did that might realize where the rest of Mr. Richard’s things could be.”

  “It’s a good thing, then,” Denny mused lazily as he propped his feet up and crossed them, “that Jack and Ham have given up on keeping us out of the cases.”

  “We have worn them down, haven’t we?” Vi laughed.

  “You should be thanking her, Rita,” Denny announced too loudly. “Once you torture Ham, forgive him, and then marry him—you’ll be able to alleviate your boredom with dabbling in Ham’s cases.”

  “I’ve never needed to meddle in anyone else’s life to alleviate boredom.”

  Denny grinned when Rita didn’t immediately object to the idea she’d end up with Ham.

  “Leave her be, my lad,” Lila ordered. She sighed into her book as Victor left to find Jack and Ham.

  “I’ve sent for my mother,” Lila announced.

  “What?” Denny gasped.

  “Martha will only be controlled by Rita for so long. Do we even know where she is now? Mother needs to step in, and I told her I’ve been feeling sick because of the baby and tired.”

  Denny sat up looking concerned and then crossed to her, turning her face up to his. After he examined her, he said, “You lied.”

  “Of course I did. I suppose I must love Martha under all the irritation, but it’s hard to tell.”

  Speaking of being bored, Violet thought, glancing at Rita. She scratched out an idea on a scrap of paper. The people most likely to catch their overt lies were not in the house and those who could wouldn’t tell. Henry was…he was…he was nothing less than a dare.

  “Rita, have a look at this,” Violet said, slipping a letter, and the scrap of paper, to her friend. Rita read Violet’s note, glanced towards Henry and then nodded.

  “It makes as much sense as the rest of this.”

  Violet hid her grin.

  After several minutes of dull examination of papers and ledgers they’d already examined, Rita rose, stretched, and then said, “Excuse me.”

  Vi admired how Rita just stepped out without explanation. A few minutes later, Vi frowned. “I’m not getting any further than yesterday. She looked around the room as she stood from the table. “Have you seen my book?”

  Denny shook his head and snuffled. Lila studied Violet for a moment, glanced at Henry, and said, “I believe you left it on the table in the hallway upstairs.”

  “Did I?” Violet strolled out of the parlor with a wink at Lila, and then shut the parlor door.

  Chapter 15

  Violet met Rita in the upstairs of the house. She’d already put on her hat and had Violet’s in hand. Vi placed the cloche on her head. Her pleated navy dress with loose sleeves matched the cloche perfectly. The two of them snuck down the back stairs to the garden where there was an exit out the side of the garden for the servants. With a swift, silent glance, they followed the walk to the backstreet that wasn’t overlooked by the front of the house they’d taken.

  “Smith is following Poncy,” Rita said. “Jack and Ham will be visiting the shipping place. We could go there and supposedly check on my things, but we’d be discovered and why would I?”

  “Your luggage is just an excuse to meddle at the shipping place, but Brother Samuel was seen last with Oscar and Poncy. Oh that name is awful, it’s no wonder he changed it. We need to hunt up Oscar without being discovered by Jack and Ham.”

  They walked towards The Cliff House Hotel with an eager eye for the men from the steamship. Felixstowe wasn’t that big, so it was possible that they’d discover one of them. Violet grinned at Rita and hooked their elbows together, stepping into the shadow of a dress shop as she pointed to a passing constable.

  “Do you imagine they’re after us?” Rita asked. Her tone was so full of sarcasm, Vi had to just prevent herself from smacking the back of Rita’s head.

  “Do you imagine that if Ham and Jack thought we were really up to something they wouldn’t use all their resources to keep us safe?”

  “I—” Rita shook her head.

  Violet lifted a brow and then admitted, “I don’t believe that Jack has sent the constables out to track us, but if you look ahead of the constable, you’ll notice Oscar Watts.”

  Rita’s head turned and she gasped. “They’re not even bothering to hide that they’re having him followed. Look, he just nodded to the constable before looking into that window. Do you think he’s wandering just to tease the man?”

  “Oscar does look mischievous. Don’t you think Jack and Ham decided to put pressure on those from the steamship as the most likely killers?”

  “That feels ham-handed,” Rita declared, winking at the term.

  “Oh, I think we can do better, Rita.” Vi grinned as she waved a little boy over to her and flashed several coins at him. His gazed widened and Violet said, “I’ll give this to you if you go beg that constable to help you find your mama.”

  “My mama is buying bread,” the boy said.

  “Cry,” Rita added, “loudly.”

  “That’s lying.”

  “It’s just acting,” Vi suggested, feeling as though his mother might not agree or appreciate the interference. She handed him the coins. The boy stared down at the small pile.

  “She’s gonna be so mad,” the boy said.

  “But y
ou’ll have so much money for candy,” Rita reminded him.

  With a grin that he quickly hid with a woeful expression, he went towards the constable.

  “You ready?” Rita asked.

  Vi nodded, and the moment the constable was distracted by the loud wail of the boy whose performance could rival Martha’s, they darted up, hooking arms with Oscar and tugging him with them into the first likely shop.

  “What’s all this?” Oscar asked. “Rita? Violet? What in the world?”

  Rita turned and winked. “We saw you were in a predicament. Just think of us as rescuing angels. Filled with mercy, kindness, and beauty.”

  “Well, I think that might be Mr. Wakefield who caused my situation, no offense to you, Mrs. Wakefield.”

  “Vi, please,” Vi grinned as she continued, lying, “Jack doesn’t seem to think being friends with you a compelling reason to trust Rita and me when we say you weren’t even friends with Brother Samuel.”

  Oscar adjusted his spectacles. “That’s true enough. Didn’t care for the fellow myself.” A thought seemed to strike him, and he added, “Not that I’d murder him either way.”

  “Of course not,” Rita flattered, letting him place her hand on his elbow and then covering her hand with his own. His eyes gleamed down at her with a sort of surprised happiness when she didn’t pull away.

  “Hello there,” the proprietor of the shop said, and they turned to see they’d entered a tobacco shop. The proprietor’s expression demanded that they buy something or leave.

  Vi went to inquire about things for Jack and Victor while Rita continued to flirt with the surprised Oscar.

  As Vi ordered somewhat randomly, Vi watched the constable go running by. “Perhaps we might make a hasty retreat towards that pub before the constable turns around?”

  “Why did you help me, Vi?” Oscar asked. “I intended for the constable to have a rather boring day watching me visit the bookshop, send Rita roses, and generally wander Felixstowe. I don’t have to be back to work for a few more days, and I haven’t quite given up hope that—”

  He glanced down at Rita and blushed.