“No, no, not at all.” Mrs. Mackerbee held out her hand in appeal. “Please, Mrs. Baxter, don’t take anything I say the wrong way. Basil was upset when he lost his job, and there was a bit of an argument, but he would never hurt a fly, I’m sure of that. That’s why he wasn’t any good on the farm. He couldn’t stand it when the pigs had to be slaughtered. Broke his heart, it did. He treated all the animals like they were his children. He was just too softhearted for this kind of work.”
“But he was upset with your husband.”
“I suppose so.” She reached for her cup again, shaking her head. “No, it couldn’t have been Basil. I just can’t believe he would do that.”
She didn’t want to believe it, either, Cecily thought, but she’d been fooled too many times in the past to take anything for granted. She leaned back. “Was your husband acquainted with Thomas Willow, or Jimmy Taylor?”
“I don’t know about the first gentleman, but I believe Colin knew Jimmy.” Mrs. Mackerbee choked on the tea and quickly put down the cup. “Jimmy died last week. Are you saying there’s some sort of coincidence?”
Cecily hesitated, then said reluctantly, “Not a coincidence. There’s a possibility the deaths are linked.”
“How very strange.” The widow frowned. “You think the same person who killed my Colin killed Jimmy Taylor as well?”
“Yes, as well as Thomas Willow, the shoemaker. They all were found with gold stamps on their foreheads.”
The fear was painfully evident on the widow’s face. “The saints preserve us. I wonder who’s next.”
“Exactly. Which is why we have to be aggressive in our search for this killer.” Cecily drained her cup and set it down in its saucer. Rising to her feet, she added, “Since you weren’t acquainted with Mr. Willow, I assume you haven’t met his former assistant, Lester Salt.”
Mrs. Mackerbee struggled to her feet. “I’m not familiar with either name. Do they live in the village?”
“Mr. Willow owned Willow’s shoe shop until he died and left the business to Mr. Salt.”
“Oh! I know the shoe store. I pass it every time I go to the High Street.” Mrs. Mackerbee led the way to the door, nodding at Samuel when he stepped forward and opened it for her. “I’ve never been inside, though. Colin goes… went in there occasionally to buy boots. In fact, he was just in there last week.” Once more the mask of misery clouded her face. “I don’t know what I’m going to do now. It’s going to be hard without him.”
Cecily impulsively put an arm about her shoulders. “It will take time, I know, but you will be strong and survive. I lost my husband many years ago, and at the time I wanted to die, too. I’m very glad I didn’t, since I’m now married again and very happy. I hope you will be, too.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Baxter.” Mrs. Mackerbee paused by the front door as Samuel tugged it open. “I’ve heard that you’re clever in finding murderers. Much cleverer than our constables, though they do their best, no doubt. Anyway, I just want to say I hope you find this horrible man before he kills someone else. I wouldn’t wish this pain on anyone.”
“I will certainly do my best.” Cecily stepped outside, shivering as she dragged her coat collar closer around her neck. “Would you mind if I take a look around the barn where your husband died?”
The widow looked startled for a moment, then shook her head. “Not at all. It’s the one closest to you, right over there.” She pointed at a barn on the other side of the yard. “I could come with you if you like?”
Cecily could tell from the other woman’s tentative tone that it was the last thing she wanted to do. Assuring her that they would be perfectly fine on their own, Cecily beckoned to Samuel and headed for the barn.
It was obvious, the moment she entered, that it was unlikely she’d find anything of value. The barn had been meticulously cleaned out, with new straw scattered over what must have been the place where Colin Mackerbee had died.
After searching around for only a few moments, Cecily gave up and led Samuel back to the carriage. The deeper she dug into this case, the more confusing it became.
Someone out there had managed to dispose of three men without leaving a single clue behind. Except for the gold stamps and the missing locks of hair-a rather deliberate attempt to link the murders.
What kind of strange mind would go to such lengths? Who were they dealing with, and what was the killer’s purpose? Again she remembered Madeline’s words. He is clever and extremely dangerous. Cecily shuddered. Could it be that, for the first time, she was up against a foe so formidable she was helpless to stop him?
Maybe they should call in the inspector, after all. It could take the full force and expertise of Scotland Yard to apprehend a killer this devious.
Not yet. P.C. Northcott had faith in her abilities, and she could not let him down now. She would find this madman and put him behind bars if it took all of Christmas to do so. She just hoped it wouldn’t cost her marriage.
CHAPTER 9
Having wheedled an hour off from Mrs. Chubb, Gertie rushed her twins to the ballroom, where the rehearsal was already under way. As always, there was complete chaos as young women rushed to and fro, bumping into one another and arguing with wildly flapping arms, while Phoebe stood in their midst screeching instructions that everyone ignored.
Gertie was sorely tempted to take Lillian and James straight back to her quarters, but the twins dragged her over to the stage, loudly proclaiming their arrival.
Phoebe caught sight of them and yelled, “You’re late! All children are to go to the green room and stay there until you are called.”
Gertie felt like sticking out her tongue, but, mindful of her little ones, she contended herself with tossing her head before marching the twins backstage and into the green room.
The noise wasn’t much better in there. Three boys and two girls, all close to the twins’ age, were throwing stage props at one another, while one bored-looking mother sat knitting in a corner.
“The rest of the mums left me in charge of ’em,” she told Gertie, nodding at the screaming children. “They won’t take any notice of me.”
Gertie let go of the twins’ hands and yelled at the top of her voice. “Qui-et!”
The yelling subsided, and one of the boys stuck his nose in the air. “Who are you?”
Gertie dug her fists into her hips. “I’m the one with the blinking rolling pin, that’s who. Any more noise from any of you and you’ll get a bloody bonk on the head with it. So shut up and sit down. On the floor. All of you.”
Ignoring the other woman, who sat staring at her with her mouth open, Gertie pointed at one of the boys. “You. Pick up this flipping mess and put it all back where it bloody belongs.”
“It weren’t my fault!” he protested, but Gertie took a threatening step toward him and he darted off, snatching up clothes and wigs from off the floor as he went.
“All right, that’s better.” Gertie crossed her arms and glared at the children, including her twins. “From now on, you all sit still and don’t say a bloody word.”
A muttered chorus answered her.
“Good.” She dragged a chair from out of the corner and stuck it in front of her audience. “Now, you can all tell me your names, starting with you two.” She nodded at the twins.
James and Lillian both promptly announced their names, and the rest meekly followed. Just as the last little girl spoke her name, the door opened and Phoebe rushed in.
“Where are they? Oh, there they are.” She flapped her hands at the seated children. “Everyone up, up, up! It’s time to go onstage. Now file out in a line, one behind the other. That’s it! One, two, one, two…”
Gertie watched them all march out the door, then grinned at the mother. “I don’t bloody envy her one bit. She’s got her hands full, all right.”
The other woman folded up her knitting and shoved it into a bag. “I think you should be the one in charge of them. They pay attention to you. I don’t think they will behave that well with Mrs. Fortescu
e.”
Gertie patted her on the shoulder. “She’ll manage. She always does. Come on, let’s go and watch them from the front. It’s the first time mine have been in a pantomime. I can’t wait to see how they get on.”
She led the way out front, wondering just how long it would be before the children drove Phoebe crazy. That was always good for a bloody laugh, watching Phoebe Fortescue in one of her temper tantrums. It was usually the highlight of the whole flipping show.
Considering it was the first rehearsal, it didn’t go half-bad in Gertie’s opinion. Lillian burst into tears when told she was supposed to be a boy, but after romping around on the pirate ship for a while, she soon settled down.
Gertie was amazed at how fast Lillian and James took direction and remembered their parts. Phoebe strode about the stage giving orders and getting in everyone’s way, but somehow they all got through the scene without any huge mishaps.
Just as Phoebe called a halt to the rehearsal, Gertie felt a hand on her shoulder. She didn’t have to turn around to know who stood behind her.
“You did a lovely job on the pirate ship,” she said, smiling up at Clive. “It looks bloody real. Especially when it moves.”
He smiled back at her. “I’m still not happy with the wiring. It will take some more work before I allow anyone on it.”
“I’m just glad my twins don’t have to fly.” Gertie looked up at the harnesses hanging from the rafters. “It’s not that I don’t trust your work, but Mrs. Fortescue has a history of bad luck on this stage.”
“I know.” Clive followed her gaze. “That’s why I’m going to be extra careful.”
“Well, maybe this time nothing will go wrong.” She turned her head as Lillian called out Clive’s name and ran toward him.
He swept the child up in his arms and gave her a hug before setting her down.
Once again Gertie longed to know if he had children of his own. She knew, however, that this wasn’t the place or time to ask him. It would just have to wait until the sleigh ride. That was, if the snow didn’t all melt away before they could go.
To her amazement, he seemed to read her mind. “I think we should take that sleigh ride tomorrow,” he said, laughing as both Lillian and James let out a shriek of excitement. “If we wait too long there won’t be any snow left to ride on.”
“I’ll have to see if I can switch my afternoon off with someone.” Gertie saw the expressions of alarm on her children’s faces. “Don’t worry,” she told them. “I’ll manage it somehow.” She glanced at Clive out of the corner of her eye. “This time nothing is going to stop us going.”
Clive put his hand over his heart. “I promise. Tomorrow we go.”
Gertie watched the twins jump up and down and knew exactly how they felt. It had been a long time since she’d looked forward to something this much. All her previous doubts seemed to have melted away. Now tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough for her.
Cecily arrived at Caroline Blanchard’s home just as dusk was settling in over the countryside. The windows of the seamstress’s cottage glowed from the light of oil lamps, and a cheerful fire danced in the fireplace as she ushered her guests into the parlor.
After shooing out what seemed like a hoard of cats and dogs from the room, Caroline offered Cecily a cup of tea, which was hastily declined.
“I am in rather a hurry to get back to the Pennyfoot,” she told Caroline, ignoring Samuel’s look of disappointment. “I’m expecting guests to arrive, and I’m anxious to welcome them.”
“Oh, of course. Then we will go at once to the fitting room.” She headed for the door, nearly colliding with Samuel in his haste to open the door for her.
She gave him a stiff, “Thank you,” and sailed through, leaving him staring after her with a dazed expression on his face.
Cecily coughed, and he sprang back to let her pass. She thanked him and received a sheepish smile as she hurried out the door after Caroline.
Entering the fitting room, she noticed that all but two of the gowns had gone. Caroline must have been busy since Cecily last visited.
She soon forgot about it when Caroline helped her slip the ball gown over her head and button it up.
It fit perfectly, making her look almost slim in the long mirror. She turned this way and that, well satisfied with the way the silky folds fell smoothly from her hips to her ankles.
Caroline, however, seemed hesitant. “The latest fashions from Paris indicate a shorter hem this year,” she said, studying the gown. “I think I should shorten it just a little. I’m really busy right now but I could have it ready in the next two or three days.”
Cecily considered it, staring at her image in the mirror. The gown looked perfect to her, but on the other hand, if the ladies were wearing shorter hems this year she certainly didn’t want to look out of date, and it was too late now to order a new gown.
“Very well,” she said at last. “I still have some shopping to do. I can pick it up on the way back the next time I go into town.” She turned, looking over her shoulder for another view. “You have done an excellent job,” she told Caroline, who actually smiled at the compliment. “It looks wonderful, and now I can hardly wait to wear it.”
In fact, it pleased her so much she couldn’t resist adding, “Would you like to come to the Welcome Ball? It is usually reserved for the Pennyfoot guests, but you have made me look so elegant, I feel I should reward you in some manner. I would be most happy if you could join us.”
Caroline’s smile wavered. “Thank you, Mrs. Baxter. It is most kind of you, I’m sure, but I have no one to escort me, so I must decline.”
“Oh, that’s a shame.” Cecily turned her back so that Caroline could unbutton the gown. “If you should change your mind and can think of someone to escort you, then you will be more than welcome.”
Caroline bowed her head. “I doubt that will happen. I am quite content to spend my days here with my animals to keep me company. I find them more congenial than most people I meet.”
Cecily thought she heard a wistful note in the seamstress’s voice and felt sad for the woman. She was too young to be spending her life alone with only cats and dogs for companionship.
If it wasn’t for Pansy, she might have encouraged Samuel to court Caroline. Samuel loved animals, too, and had rescued a stray dog himself, so they had something in common.
Shaking off the thought, she returned to the parlor. Baxter was always chiding her for meddling in others’ affairs, and he would no doubt point out that in order for Samuel to make Caroline happy, he would have to break Pansy’s heart.
And that wouldn’t do at all.
She found Samuel petting a dog that looked vaguely familiar. Her stable manager looked up with an air of expectancy as Caroline entered, only to be disappointed when she deliberately ignored him.
“Come, Samuel, we must be on our way.” She waited for him to give the dog a final pat and then, with a hasty farewell to Caroline, hurried out the door.
Anxious now to return home, Cecily urged Samuel to hurry as they rattled and bounced over the country roads. She was thankful when they entered the Esplanade where the ride was a little smoother, thanks to the wheels of carriages and the occasional motorcar that had worn down the ruts.
The moment she entered the foyer she noticed the Christmas tree by the stairs. The footmen must have brought it in for Madeline. Its branches were bare right now, but Cecily knew the kind of magic Madeline was capable of, and had no doubt that she would turn the tree into a breathtaking vision of splendor.
Smiling, she crossed the carpet to the reception desk, where Philip was snoozing on his chair. Punching the bell to wake him up, she asked, “Have Mr. and Mrs. Lansfield arrived yet?”
Philip started, jerked his hand, and knocked over the pen-holder. Scrabbling to right it, he muttered, “Ah… yes, m’m. The Lansfield party arrived this morning.”
“Do you know where they are now?”
“I saw Mr. Lansfield pass by a short while a
go. Mrs. Lansfield wasn’t with him.”
“She is probably in her room. Thank you, Philip.” Cecily headed for the stairs and hurried up them to the second floor.
The young woman who answered her knock seemed a little tense, no doubt due to the child crying somewhere inside the room. “Mrs. Lansfield is in the ballroom,” she said, in answer to Cecily’s inquiry. “I believe she’s rehearsing for a presentation of some kind.”
Taken aback, Cecily thanked her and once more headed for the stairs. What was Phoebe thinking of, asking Doris to perform in her pantomime? True, the songstress had obliged her before, but that was when she was still appearing on the stage. Doris was married now, with a child. Phoebe had absolutely no right to pester the woman now.
Cecily stormed down the steps, rehearsing exactly what she would say to Phoebe when she saw her.
She never reached the ballroom, however. Just as she arrived at the bottom of the stairs, Doris appeared in the foyer, followed by Daisy and Gertie’s twins, all chattering at once.
Lillian ran over to Cecily and threw her skinny arms around Cecily’s hips. “We had such fun,” she said, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “We learned to dance and sing and everything!”
Cecily patted her godchild on the head. “I’m so glad you’re having a good time, precious.”
At her words James came rushing over to her and tugged on her skirt. “I’m having a good time, too!”
Cecily put an arm around each of her godchildren and gave them both a peck on the cheek. “I shall look forward to seeing you both perform,” she told them.
Daisy broke away from her sister and hurried over to take the children by the hand. “I promised Gertie I’d have them back in their room before she had to serve supper,” she said, looking worried.
Cecily glanced at the clock. “You have a few minutes yet. Tell Gertie I kept them talking.”
Daisy grinned. “Yes, m’m.” She waved at Doris, then led the twins to the kitchen stairs.
Doris, who had followed her sister, watched them leave, then turned to Cecily. “It’s wonderful to see you again, m’m.”
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