A Grave Gala (Sugar Martin Vintage Cozy Mysteries Book 2)

by Shéa MacLeod

  Miss Small perched a pair of reading glasses on her nose and opened her desk drawer. “Yes, I recall that.”

  “She had a child, didn’t she?”

  “Yes, of course, that’s why she was here, but it was a long time ago. I don’t see what anyone would care about it now.” She ruffled through the drawer and pulled out a yellowing file, placing it neatly in front of her. I’d a feeling everything I needed to know was in that file.

  “It’s possible that she or the child have something to do with a murder.”

  One eyebrow raised. “Murder?”

  “Yes. And in order to prevent another murder, I need to know what happened to the child. Was he or she adopted?”

  “Of course. All our children are. We make sure of that. Mavis Tilcum’s child was adopted immediately.” She opened the folder slowly.

  “By which family?”

  “Normally I would never share such sensitive information, but since this is murder...” She eyed me closely then slid the paper across.

  It was a copy of an adoption certificate complete with the child’s name and the name of the adoptive parents. My heart beat wildly. “And Mavis? What happened to her?”

  “She can’t have had anything to do with it,” Miss Small assured me.

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “Because Mavis Tilcum is dead.”

  “FASTER!”

  Jack slid a look at me. “I’m going as fast as is safe on this road. What’s the hurry?”

  I gritted my teeth, itching to kick him out of the driver’s seat or stomp on the gas or... something. “Just... get there, okay?”

  “We will,” he assured me.

  When I’d rung him from the station, there’d been no answer. Frustrated, I’d called the office only to be told he’d already returned to Endmere. So I’d left a message for him at the Sullen Oyster to collect me in time for the gala. That was where we were headed, and we couldn’t get there fast enough as far as I was concerned.

  “What did you find out in London?” he asked.

  I glanced at him. “Everything. I think.”

  “Tell me. Let me help.”

  I shook my head. I’d left my hair down, not having time for a fancy do. “I have to be absolutely sure.” Otherwise there might be another death on our hands.

  He huffed but didn’t take his eyes off the winding road. “That’s foolish, Sugar. What if the killer finds out what you know and tries to harm you?”

  “You think they’ll stop just because you know, too?” I snorted. “More likely we’ll both end up dead. Now step on it.”

  We sped through the gates and up the drive, coming to a screeching stop in a spray of gravel. Naturally, Johnson was there to look down his impressive nose at us.

  “You’re late,” he said as I stomped past him, Jack hurrying along behind.

  I didn’t bother to reply. “They’re on the veranda?”

  “Yes,” Johnson said.

  “Everything in order?” I’d rung him as soon as I’d got home. He’d not been pleased with my demands, but I’d impressed on him the importance.

  “Of course.” He had a pinched look as if my questioning him was an insult to his ability to arrange things. “It wasn’t easy, mind you, but all is in place.”

  “Good. Thank you.” Suddenly, I could breathe a bit easier. I turned to Jack. “I need a favor.”

  “Of course.” Although he looked a little worried.

  “Just as the dance starts, I need you to start a fight.”

  He blinked. “Pardon?”

  “You heard me. I don’t care who with, and I don’t care what about, but I need a big distraction.”

  “I don’t know what you’re up to.” He shook his head. “And I don’t like it.”

  “Please, Jack. Trust me.” I tried to bat my eyelashes as I’d seen Toni do.

  “Do you have something in your eye?”

  Well, fiddlesticks. “Just a bit of dust. I’m fine. Please?”

  He grimaced. “Like I said, I don’t like this. But you got it.”

  “Thanks, Jack.” I stood on tiptoes and gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

  He stared at me as if I were a rattlesnake that had just stolen his lunch. Suddenly embarrassed and feeling like a dope, I whirled and ran for the veranda, calling myself ten kinds of idiot. It had been stupid and impulsive.

  It was just a kiss on the cheek. Something you’d give your dad or brothers. It doesn’t mean anything.

  And the Thames was just a creek.

  Squaring my shoulders, I stepped onto the veranda to be greeted by Penny with a drinks tray. She handed me one, whispering, “Virgin daiquiri.”

  “Thanks,” I whispered back. “Anything?”

  “Not yet.”

  The band was playing something slow and languorous. A few couples were dancing. The usual suspects were scattered around the tables with drinks in hand. Everyone was present and accounted for.

  This was it. The moment of truth. I’d either catch a killer, or someone would end up dead.

  “Welcome, everyone!” Toni stood, poised elegantly at the top of the veranda steps. She wore a gorgeous green silk taffeta ball gown that hugged her figure while a dramatic train flared out around her. She looked like a million bucks. “I want to thank you for being here.”

  There was a bit of polite clapping. Penny was handing out more drinks.

  Jack glanced at me, but I shook my head. Not yet.

  As Toni launched into her speech, I circled the edge of the veranda, paying careful attention to who was there and who wasn’t. There was the ruffling of leaves from the bushes at the edge of the patio. I nodded.

  “You jackanapes! How dare you!” There was the thud of a punch, followed by a shout, then a scream, then a crash. Chaos erupted.

  I dashed up the steps, grabbed Toni, and threw her to the ground. She went down in a heap, and I stood spotlighted by the glowing lamps circling the party. I took a deep breath and dove to the left—

  The pain, when it came, was sudden and sharp. Something warm and wet slipped down my arm. I glanced at it to find my sleeve was torn and a line of blood across my upper arm. An arrow stuck straight out of a nearby chair. I clapped my other hand over the wound to stem the bleeding.

  “Well, now, Miss Martin, seems you’ve got yourself in a bit of a spot.” Cobblepot suddenly loomed over me.

  “Did you get him?”

  His smile was almost feral. “Aye. We got him.”

  Chapter 14

  It was sometime later before the police got everyone calmed down and seated. Penny had clucked over me while she bandaged my upper arm. She’d brought Tippy out, and he stood guard over me. The arrow meant for Toni had only grazed me. Hurt like the Dickens, though. Still, I wasn’t going to let Cobblepot take over, even though he’d offered.

  Funny, that. He’d been so dead set against my getting involved, and now he wanted me to hand him the solution on a silver platter. Ha! I’d assured him the only way I’d reveal what I’d found was if he’d help me round up everyone and let me present the solution. He’d naturally muttered something about me reading too many detective novels and threatened to clap me in irons. I’d reminded him just who my employer was. When that didn’t work, Tippy had growled at him. Strangely enough, that had done it.

  So there we were, gathered around the veranda with me in a comfortable armchair Jack had dragged outside like I was Poirot and the gala guests were the suspects. Which wasn’t far off, except that while I don’t consider myself extravagantly beautiful, I’d certainly like to think I was more attractive and less of a pill than Christie’s titular detective.

  “What’s the big idea?” Jerry demanded. “Keeping us here while there’s a madman on the loose?”

  “Indeed,” Sir Reuben agreed. “Should I ring my solicitor?”

  I waved them both off. “I simply thought, and DCI Cobblepot agreed, that getting everyone together and explaining everything would be... useful.”

&nbs
p; Vivien snorted. “Useful to whom?”

  “Would you speak up?” Lord Olivander shouted, cupping his ear.

  Lil rolled her eyes and leaned closer to me. “He’s a nut.”

  That was certainly the pot calling the kettle black. I gave her a wan smile.

  “Have you finally figured out who wanted to kill poor Peter?” Toni asked, wringing her hands, playing her part to a tee.

  “That’s just the thing,” I said, “no one wanted to kill Peter.”

  There was a gasp from the group. Cobblepot looked bored. Tippy thumped his tail.

  “You see, this whole thing began because of a mistake.”

  “I’ll say,” Jack muttered.

  I ignored him. “We all thought that because Lord Peter was the one shot, that meant he was the intended victim.”

  “Wasn’t he?” demanded Lil with a frown.

  “He wasn’t,” I assured her. “If you recall, at just the moment before the arrow hit Peter, there was a particular rise in the music, and that’s when he dipped Toni.”

  “Quite unexpectedly, too,” Toni muttered. “Nearly fell over.”

  “Exactly,” I agreed. “The split moment before, the moment when that arrow would have been loosed, Toni was standing with her back to everyone. A perfect target.”

  “Then Lady Netherford was the intended victim!” Lady Olivander declared. Clearly, her hearing was excellent.

  “Yes, my lady, that is so,” I agreed.

  “Heavens above!” She blinked large eyes at me while clutching a substantial set of pearls. “Who would want to kill Lady Netherford? She’s so lovely!”

  “Thank you, dear,” Toni said with a gracious smile.

  “That was the question,” I said. “There were plenty of people who had a beef with Peter, but once we realized he was an accidental victim, we suddenly hit a wall. Who would want to kill Lady Netherford? As far as we could tell, she has but two enemies in the world.”

  “Really?” Sir Rueben was all agog. “How astonishing!”

  “Yes, but they are locked up tight,” I assured him. “And they’d want me dead as much as Toni.”

  His eyes brightened. “Ah, you speak of Lord Chasterly and Mary Parlance.”

  “I do. They have a clear motive to want to kill both of us. After all, we’re the ones who put them behind bars.”

  “You more than me,” Toni muttered.

  I ignored the compliment, even though I preened inside. “No matter how we went round and round, we couldn’t come up with anyone else with a motive. And then I realized... what if the motive was right, but we’d got the perpetrators wrong?”

  Alexander Malburn frowned. “How could that be?”

  “When a person or persons are sent to prison for committing crimes, they’re not the only ones affected,” I reminded him. “Their families, friends, and colleagues are, too.”

  Alex snorted. “Mary and Freddy don’t have colleagues and their friends have deserted them. The only family either of them has is Simon, Mary’s brother, and he’s distanced himself as much as he could. He’s left the country, for pity’s sake!”

  I nodded. “Yes, that’s true, which was what baffled us, and then I realized that Mary wasn’t the only one with family. Freddy, Lord Chasterly, had family, too.”

  “No, he didn’t,” Sir Rueben snorted. “He was the last of his line. Well, except for some distant cousin in New Zealand, but he’ll inherit everything so he certainly wouldn’t seek revenge. You did him a favor, ducks.”

  “Yes, that’s what everyone thinks.” I gave him a slight smile. “But they’re wrong.”

  Another dramatic gasp. This one from Lil.

  I repressed a grin. “You see, I discovered that Lord Chasterly had a child.”

  “Th-that’s... impossible!” Sir Reuben sputtered. Clearly, his gossip loving soul couldn’t stand the fact that I knew something he didn’t.

  “I’m afraid it isn’t. It took me a while, but I dug around and I found that twenty-six years ago, a young woman named Mavis Tilcum came down from London to work at Endmere for Lord Chasterly who was then a man in his thirties.”

  “I can see where this is going,” Vivien muttered, taking a long swallow of her cocktail.

  “After a time, Mavis was forced to leave Endmere,” I continued. “You see, she was in the family way, so she was thrown out. Lord Chasterly couldn’t have his indiscretion there for the world to see.”

  “Of course not,” Lord Olivander muttered loudly. “It’s not proper.”

  Lady Olivander shushed him, which was fortunate. If I’d had to shush him, it might have been done with a vase over the head.

  “Who was the child?” Lil demanded.

  “That was the difficult part,” I said. “You see, I followed Mavis’s trail from here to St. Cyres Bay, and then on to London, and finally to a home for unwed mothers and the woman who runs it. A woman named Gertrude Small.” If I’d expected a response, I was disappointed. No one so much as flinched. “Miss Small remembered Mavis Tilcum. She told me all about how Mavis died tragically in childbirth, leaving her baby orphaned and alone in the world.”

  “That’s so sad,” said Toni softly.

  I nodded. “It is. Of course, the reality is that the child wasn’t orphaned. There was a father. A man who refused to take responsibility for his actions. A man who’d thrown the mother out into the cold to die alone and in poverty. And so began the life of an unwanted child, a seed that would grow in time from anger, to hate, to revenge.”

  “I’m sorry, but you’ve lost me,” Lil said. “Who is the child and why would he want to kill Toni?”

  “I’m getting there,” I assured her. “You see, the thing is, Peter was shot with a longbow, which meant the killer had to be very strong. Also, the person I found in Toni’s room trying to smother her was tall and broad shouldered. I considered the various men of the right age who were at the gala.” I turned to face Jerry Miles. “You were the obvious choice, of course.”

  “Why me?” he spluttered, his face going crimson.

  “First off, because you are not a member of the upper class. You are an ordinary citizen who is rather cagey about your past. Plus, it was your car that nearly ran me down.”

  “For the hundredth time, it wasn’t me driving that car,” he roared. “And I may be cagey about my past, but that’s only because it makes me more... mysterious.”

  I nearly snorted. “You’re right. It does give you a certain mystique. Which is why I had Jack look into your background while he was in London.”

  “Turns out you’re not that interesting,” Jack piped up. “Father a mechanic. Mother a seamstress. Salt of the Earth types. You were raised comfortably and encouraged at every turn.”

  Jerry shrugged. “Yeah, so? I come from humble but decent beginnings. What of it? Doesn’t mean I’m the son of some lord.”

  “No, it doesn’t.” I took a sip of my virgin daiquiri. I was glad Penny had thought of it as I wanted to keep a clear head. “Something we proved when we located your birth certificate and had a chat with the priest of your local parish church. You are precisely who you say you are. So while it was your car that nearly ran me over and you are definitely strong enough to have pulled that bow, you don’t have what one would call a motive.”

  “See. There you have it.” He leaned back smugly.

  “So next, I turned to Alex.” I faced him.

  A look of surprised crossed his face. “Me?”

  “You’re the right age,” I said.

  “Sure, but I’m not illegitimate, nor am I adopted. Believe me, if I were either of those things, my uncle would have cut me out of his will long ago.”

  “If it’s not Jerry and it’s not Alex, then who could it be?” Lil demanded. “There’s no one left.”

  “Oh, but there is,” I assured her. “Isn’t there, Vivien?”

  The gorgeous actress threw back her head and laughed, but there was no humor in her eyes. “You’ve lost the plot now, cookie.”

/>   “But I haven’t. You see, it’s here in black and white.” I withdrew the copy of the paper Miss Small had given me. “The record of your adoption. With Mavis Tilcum as the mother and Lord Peter Chasterly as the father.”

  She stiffened. “Lies.”

  “I’m afraid not,” Jack said. “I checked vital statistics in London. Mavis Tilcum did indeed have a female child, who was later adopted by Sir Michael Moreton and his wife when they discovered they couldn’t have children.”

  “Well, be that as it may, it doesn’t prove anything. I couldn’t have killed Peter. You said yourself it would take a strong man to pull a long bow.”

  “Ah, I said a strong person,” I corrected her. “I’m a feminist, you see—shocking, I know—and I happened to notice that you are not only unusually tall for a woman, but particularly muscular. And then Toni recalled a little film you were in at the very beginning of your career.”

  “Lady Robin Hood,” Toni supplied. “You played an archer.”

  Vivien snorted. “It’s Pinewood, darling. It’s all fake.”

  “No, it isn’t,” I said, pulling another bit of paper from my handbag. This one was a magazine clipping. “Toni had this, too. It’s an interview you did for the film. You were very proud of the fact you’d done all your own stunts, and the longbow you used was real.” I placed the clipping next to the copy of the adoption paper.

  Vivien went white then flushed red. “This is all nonsense. Why would I care about the father who abandoned me? He meant nothing to me. Less than nothing.”

  “It was probably curiosity at first,” I guessed. “Wanting to meet the man who denied you. The man responsible, in a way, for the death of your mother. You probably wondered what your life would have been like if you’d been raised by someone like Freddy Chasterly instead of a simple country gentleman. Then, no doubt, you thought you could get money out of him. Play to his sympathies. But he wanted more, didn’t he? What did he promise you if you helped him get his revenge?”