A Merry Little Murder

by Beth Byers

Violet’s makeup was a little lighter, her lip a little less bold. She wore only her black pearls while Kate was be-decked in diamonds and gold. Vi deliberately pushed Kate to the edge of fashionable and then stepped herself back from what she would normally wear. It made the contrast all the stronger. If you were looking with a mean gaze and this fiend was, Kate looked like she’d stepped past Violet to the extreme. She looked like she’d been damaged by the harlots in the house and pushed out of the good girl place she had inhabited previously.

  This look would, indeed, up the pressure. Especially since Lila and Denny had determined to talk loud and often about the trip they had planned. They were focusing on the worst aspects of it to enrage the killer. By the time Kate arrived in the ballroom, everyone would know that she was leaving. Whereupon she would appear, showing more skin than she ever had before, covered in makeup and jewelry—shocking in her loveliness.

  The music had started by the time Violet and Kate stepped into the room. Violet moved in quietly and Kate deliberately paused in the doorway. At her appearance, Lila skated over, laughing. She intentionally crashed into Kate and sang, “Oooh-la-la, you daring thing!”

  The trill of Lila’s laughter pulled the attention of everyone who was attending, which was when Victor crossed to the tangle of women. He lifted the laughing Lila off of Kate, giving Lila a push to roll her back to Denny. Kate’s laughter was forced, and she froze when Victor calmly placed his hand on her hip and tucked her into his side. Her stiffness might give their charade away, but they could only carry on.

  Victor smiled down at Kate, tapped her nose, and said, “You’re a star, darling.” He pressed a cocktail glass into Kate’s hand, and she tossed it back as though it were water.

  It was, of course, pretty much tonic water, but no one watching would know that. Violet heard a male gasp, but when she turned, all the faces were either laughing or impassive.

  “Oh-ho,” Violet called, “Kate, you’ll end up swimming in your cups.”

  “That’s the plan, isn’t it?” She patted Victor’s chest, letting her hand linger for a moment before demanding, “Get me another, darling.”

  Violet watched her brother mix up a drink, set the cocktail shaker down to put ice in the glass. A moment later, he picked up a different shaker and handed Kate a new glass. She sat, and he knelt before her, putting skates on her shoes.

  He looked like a gallant about to beg for a favor. She smiled at him as though his hand on her foot weren’t shocking. Victor remained without skates, but Kate twirled in his arms, dancing, and laughing to the jazz music.

  Violet’s gaze returned to them as she refilled cocktails, watched the suspects, and kept the records changed. Vic was far handsier with Kate than he would have been under any other circumstances. His hand often lingered on Kate’s hip or her lower back, just above her bottom. Kate, on the other hand, laughed at him far more than she would have normally.

  “Do you see them?” Violet asked Jack as she shook the cocktail shaker to make a round of sidecars.

  “I’ve been tracking them. She’s got everyone’s attention. The dress might have been too much, Vi.”

  She smirked and asked, “Did you swallow your tongue?”

  “I only have eyes for you, love,” he said.

  Violet’s laugh mixed with the sound of ice clinking. “Smooth, my friend. Smooth indeed.”

  She loaded a tray with drinks, hooked her hand through Jack’s arm to keep herself steady and they moved towards another group.

  “Donald Moore,” Jack said. Violet held out the tray to Donald and Martha with a wink.

  “And I called Harriet a whore,” Martha muttered as she took a cocktail. The girl shot Violet a sour look. “You people do bring out the wicked and frivolous in someone, don’t you? Would you look at Kate?”

  Violet paused. My goodness, she thought, Martha has been hearing a diatribe from the fiend. Violet’s gaze turned to Donald, but it was fixed on Kate and Jack. Donald didn’t even seem to hear Martha. Vi wanted to haul the girl out and cross-examine her. Had she heard those words from Donald? Did that happen just before Violet showed up with cocktails?

  “It wasn’t Kate caught in the ladies’ book club room with an older man,” Violet hissed. “Who cares if Kate is having a little fun on roller-skates?”

  “She’s throwing herself at your brother, probably for the money.” Martha hissed back.

  “No, darling,” Violet told Martha, pinching her cheek. “That was you. Kate is playing—roller-skating and dancing—neither inherently wicked with a good man who likes her very much. Is your sister a harlot for doing the same with Denny?”

  “Lila,” Martha hissed, “is married to Denny.”

  “And Victor,” Violet countered, “would never cross the line with Kate. She’s safe. The same cannot be said of you with your Mr. Wickham.”

  Martha flushed furiously, and Violet left the girl before she slapped her.

  Violet turned, glancing up at Jack. “Have we ruined Kate?”

  “No,” Jack said. “We’ll take her away and when we come back, your brother will have proposed and all will be forgiven. She’ll never live here again. Not fully.”

  “What if she says no?” Violet asked, biting the inside of her mouth.

  “She won’t, darling. She won’t.”

  If Jack was right…Violet turned. She examined the show Victor and Kate were putting on and there was something in Victor’s gaze. In the way he laughed down at her. He wasn’t fully acting. He was just letting the suspects see what he was feeling. He cared for Kate. He was well on his way to deeply in love.

  “Love at first wicked aside instead of first sight,” Violet told Jack. “I suppose I knew it was happening, but look at how he holds her—” Violet’s head cocked as she considered the couple. “Kate…she’s actually laughing. She’s not pretending anymore. She feels safe with him.”

  “She is safe with him.” Jack lifted Violet’s hand to his mouth, pressing a kiss on her palm. “As you are with me.”

  Denny and Lila were both in roller-skates, laughing with Robert Moore, who had just hit the ground. Donald and Martha joined them. Martha wasn’t wearing skates, but she danced with the younger Mr. Wickham when he held out his hand towards her. The elder Mr. Wickham had arrived, but he seemed pale and upset. Was it because Kate was behaving so outrageously?

  Several other couples danced or roller-skated without seeming to feel the tension Violet’s friends carried.

  Mr. Inkwell stood just inside the door and one of the housemaids circulated with flutes of champagne. If this weren’t a trap for the killer, it would be one of the most fun parties Violet had ever attended.

  “We need to do this again in your house,” Violet told Victor when he turned and pulled her into his arms. He spun both women in a circle with their hands clutching him, the fringe of their dresses flying. Violet laughed at her brother and let go at just the right moment to fly into Jack’s arms.

  Jack caught her and said into her ear, “No one is standing out. If the ‘admirer’ is here, he’s well-hidden.”

  “Except Martha,” Violet muttered. “We’ll just have to put on the show and wait for the aftermath.”

  The party passed and most of the attendees got well and thoroughly drunk. Violet wasn’t sure what to think of the morose Mr. Wickham, who didn’t drink at all, or the younger Mr. Wickham, who seemed to trail after Martha. Donald Moore fell so many times he was going to be covered in bruises the next day, but he never stopped laughing.

  Robert Moore danced with many women without focusing on any one girl. He was rebuffed by Victor when he asked to dance with Kate, and Robert took it with good grace. When Violet danced with him, he simply remarked on the cleverness of roller-skates and a ballroom.

  Mr. Wickham took Kate to the side when he left and whatever he said had her paling. Victor was close, so Violet wasn’t concerned and a moment later, Kate stepped back towards Victor. Only Donald swung Kate around, in doing so his hand strayed to Kate’
s bottom, but Victor pulled Kate back to him. A second after that, Donald was ‘nudged’ by Victor and ended up crashing into the wall with a rather shocking crash.

  Violet laughed into Jack’s chest as he spun her again. Jack’s gaze never seemed to leave Vi while always catching whatever was happening around them. He moved her closer when the clock struck 1:00am. Denny was fixing another round of drinks and he handed elder Mr. Wickham a new glass.

  “You seem glum, friend,” Denny said as he refilled Wickham’s glass.

  “I didn’t imagine quite this when I received the invitation. I suppose I thought it was Harriet’s friends gathering to remember her.”

  Denny forced a laugh even though he hated that they were acting as though Harriet hadn’t just died. “Well, you know…we have to carry on and all that.”

  The sick tone that Denny couldn’t quite disguise didn’t seem to carry over to Mr. Wickham, who scowled and said, “Time to be going, I think.”

  He gathered up his drunk nephew rather loudly and Violet stared at them. “It’s interesting that he didn’t understand Denny. It’s like he doesn’t know Denny at all,” Jack tucked her hand through the crook in his elbow as she added, “I’d like to take these skates off now.”

  “Why would he know Denny?”

  “Why, indeed,” Violet shook her head. “I want to look at the list again.”

  Jack frowned. “Can it wait?”

  She nodded, but her mind didn’t stop skipping to the list. There was something there that was bothering her, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

  The misters Wickham leaving seemed to spur a few of the ladies, who asked for rides home. Denny offered to bring another set of sisters home, and in moments they were left only with Robert, Donald, Martha, and the original party.

  “Why don’t you sleep here?” Violet asked Martha. Her mind kept skipping to the list, and she didn’t want Martha leaving with two of the suspects. It was too dangerous. “We’ll be decorating the tree tomorrow. Should be fun? Inkwell, take Martha to a room and have my maid see to her?”

  Robert and Donald left a few minutes later and Lila demanded, “Why do we have to keep my sister?”

  Kate took a seat on one of the settees and shuddered. She pressed her hands into her face. “I want to bathe, scrub my face, and put on pajamas. I don’t want to ever do that again.”

  “No,” Violet said. “I want the chalkboard.”

  Victor and Denny went to get it. When they returned, Violet stared at the names.

  MR. HENRY WICKHAM, THE ELDER

  MR. HENRY WICKHAM, THE YOUNGER

  ROBERT MOORE

  DONALD MOORE

  MR. LONG

  TIMOTHY ALBERTS

  NEVILLE CRANE

  “I didn’t even meet Neville or Timothy,” Violet said.

  “Neville danced with Josephine Lane all evening.” Kate slipped off her skates and then her shoes. She rubbed her feet. “Must we right now? I feel a little like a performing doll.”

  “You were brilliant,” Lila told her.

  Violet crossed out Neville’s name and asked, “Timothy Alberts?”

  “He didn’t come,” Lila said.

  Violet crossed out that name and it read:

  MR. HENRY WICKHAM, THE ELDER

  MR. HENRY WICKHAM, THE YOUNGER

  ROBERT MOORE

  DONALD MOORE

  MR. LONG

  TIMOTHY ALBERTS

  NEVILLE CRANE

  Violet stared for a long time at the names. “Ask your sister who she has spent time with since she was let out of her room.”

  Lila glanced at Violet with a frown and asked, “First, may I have a real cocktail now? And second, I can answer that without asking her. My mother made her spend the day with our Moore cousins, helping with the children so that my aunt could join Mother with Harriet’s parents. They were planning the funeral.”

  Violet nodded. “Why didn’t Wickham know Denny was disgusted by this party? Anyone who actually knew Denny would guess that when Denny looked as though he were about to vomit on Wickham’s shoes.”

  “I don’t really know Wickham all that well,” Denny said.

  “What did he say to you when he made you upset?”

  Kate frowned. “He was surprised I could be so happy after Harriet died.”

  “He loved her,” Violet said, and slowly crossed out both Wickham names. “They don’t know Lila and Denny well enough to guess how this house works. Harriet couldn’t be sure of the Wickham men because they lived so close to her. But we can. They don’t know Denny and Lila. The only ones on this list who know you well enough to guess how we live and be right…someone who could guess that the servants would take out the dogs because they knew we had spaniels. I doubt my stepmother even knows we have dogs.”

  Violet stepped back and looked at the list of suspects again. It read:

  MR. HENRY WICKHAM, THE ELDER

  MR. HENRY WICKHAM, THE YOUNGER

  ROBERT MOORE

  DONALD MOORE

  MR. LONG

  TIMOTHY ALBERTS

  NEVILLE CRANE

  “There’s more,” Violet said as she stared at the list. “One of them spoke to Martha. She used their phrasing when she was being nasty to me. She only spent time recently with the Moores. Either Robert or Donald planted that seed in her mind.”

  Denny slowly stood. He was frowning fiercely. “Harriet was their cousin. She might not have ever considered them. She might not have felt safe enough to step away with anyone else.”

  “I know both Robert and Donald rather well,” Kate said softly. “They both know rather a lot about me and my family.”

  “Of course, they do. One of them has been hunting you for a while.” Jack shoved himself to his feet and he was the one who made the next round of cocktails. He didn’t have Victor’s brilliance, but Jack did have a heavy hand with the gin. No one objected.

  “Donald was the one who sent us on the goose chase for the tramp,” Victor said.

  “Robert has stopped by my home more than Donald ever has,” Kate’s mouth twisted. “I…have never liked Robert. He always talked too much about Monroe and my loss.”

  “We can examine them tomorrow for scratches,” Jack said. “There was skin under Harriet’s nails. She didn’t go down easy and that might be what we need.”

  Chapter 22

  “My lady?” Beatrice stepped into the ballroom. She was pale and her eyes were wide and worried. Violet felt certain that something had happened with a single glance. “I…”

  Violet lifted a brow and said, “My darling girl, out with it.”

  “I took care of Martha as you requested. Then I went back to your room. I was trying to find something out from the letters and journals…”

  Violet nodded, lifting both brows.

  “Someone destroyed all of your gowns. The jewelry was locked away, but everything is ruined that could be done quietly. Your books, your clothes…and…”

  “Rouge?” Violet demanded.

  Beatrice shook her head, “Mr. Giles kept both dogs with him in case they needed to go out. The dogs are safe.”

  Violet pressed her fingers to her lips. It was fine. Everything that was ruined was replaceable.

  “And?” Jack demanded.

  “The key to the bedroom is gone.”

  Victor cursed and Violet laughed.

  “Why are you laughing?”

  “Why would he take it if he isn’t planning on coming back?”

  “Oh,” Jack smiled. “The ladies can sleep in my room. Victor and I will sleep in Violet’s…”

  “We’ll nab him.”

  Victor slowly turned on Jack. “Before you take him in, I intend to beat him within an inch of his life.”

  “Count me in for that,” Denny growled.

  “Don’t worry, dolls,” Lila said, “I’ll clothe you, we’ll be safe, all is well. Now we have an excellent reason to stop by Paris on our way to Cuba. Beach pants and you know…knickers for you t
wo.”

  Violet laughed and Jack shook his head. Kate was pale, but her cheeks were fiery in their fury.

  “I love my books,” Kate said. “They’re my friends. He ruined my books? Why?”

  Beatrice apologized several times until Violet said, “None of this is your fault, love. No one is upset at you.”

  “You just gave me that kimono,” Kate moaned.

  “I’ll give you another.”

  “It’s…” Kate bit her lip and a tear rolled down her face. “It’s…I’m just…I feel so weak. Harriet stood this for so long, and I haven’t even made it a few days.”

  “Harriet only knew this person was disturbing,” Victor told her. “You know that he killed Harriet.”

  Victor took her hand and put a finger under her chin, turning Kate’s face up to his. “You are not weak. You will be safe. Everything that he took from you will be returned to you.”

  Another tear fell down Kate’s cheek and Violet sighed before she ordered, “Just hug her already, Vic. She needs a hug. She knows she can get another copy of her books and new dresses.”

  Victor didn’t need to be told twice.

  * * * * *

  The typewriter survived. That was all that could be said of her room. Her journal was shredded on the ground. Her gowns, including the dragon embroidered one that Violet had yet to wear, were shreds of silk and wool.

  “The kimonos made it,” Beatrice said. “I took them down to steam the wrinkles out of them. I have some of your underthings that were drying. That might be all that is left. I just hung up the dresses you wore earlier today.”

  “Wonderful,” Violet said cheerily. “I did like that black and gold kimono. And, as you know, Kate had a soulmate connection to her kimono.”

  Violet bit her lip when she saw that her collection of lipstick had been ground into the cushioned stool in front of the vanity. “I don’t think that will come out.”

  Beatrice didn’t disagree, which confirmed the fact for Violet. Her powder had been flung across the room and the mirror on her compact had been broken. The locked drawer had been left alone, which meant Violet’s jewelry survived.

  Violet looked at the books. They were broken spines with pages ripped out. The room hadn’t been unattended all that long. Less than an hour? In that time, every single book had been destroyed, the feathers from the pillows were everywhere, both the bed and the bedding had great holes in them. This wouldn’t work as a trap. No one was intended to sleep in this room. Whatever the killer had planned, he’d wanted…something from them. What was it? Was Kate supposed to flee home?