by V. M. Burns
Lady Daphne rose from her seat by the window and walked to the sofa and sat next to her aunt. “Aunt Elizabeth, this is horrible. It’s cast a dark shadow on the wedding. Please, you’ve got to figure out who killed that man.”
James paced. “Maybe we should postpone the wedding until after—”
“Oh, no you don’t. We’re not postponing anything. We’re getting married by Christmas Eve.” Daphne’s eyes flashed and her face looked flushed. “I’m not going to be stuck here while you go off to Italy.”
James turned to his friend Victor, who sat silently by the window. “Victor, what do you think?”
Victor looked up from his private musings. “I’m sorry, old boy, I’m afraid my mind was on other things.” He glanced furtively at his wife, Lady Penelope.
Lady Elizabeth followed Victor’s gaze and looked at her niece, Lady Penelope. “Penelope, dear, are you sure you’re feeling all right?”
“Yes, of course. I’m just rather tired.” She stood. “I think I’ll go upstairs and lie down.” She walked out of the room.
“You agree with me that we should postpone the wedding, right?” the duke pleaded with his friend.
Victor shrugged. “I suppose so.”
Detective Inspector Covington turned to Lady Elizabeth. “What can you tell me about the houseguests?”
Lady Elizabeth paused in her knitting. “Well, Percy Waddington, Major Andrew Davies, and Sir Wilbur Hampton all arrived in the past couple of days.”
Thompkins knocked quietly and opened the door. “Lady Alistair Browning.”
Lady Alistair Browning, a tall, stylish, well-bred woman swept past the butler into the parlor. Tall and slender, Helene Browning wore a smart suit of navy blue with a matching cape trimmed in fur and a small pillbox hat with a veil. Silk stockings and suede oxfords rounded out the look. The small head of her Chihuahua, Bitsy, poked out from the muff.
The Marshes’ Cavalier King Charles Spaniel, Cuddles, lounged at the feet of his master, Lord William. When Lady Alistair entered, Cuddles lifted his head and sniffed the air. He glanced at her ladyship and Bitsy.
Bitsy growled and yapped in Cuddles’s direction.
Cuddles stared for a few seconds, then stood, turned around in a circle, and lay down in a ball with his back to the yapping dog.
Thompkins watched the scene and then released a sigh, perhaps remembering the last time he’d met Bitsy. Noting no incident, he turned and withdrew.
“Mother.” James Browning hurried over to kiss his mother on the cheek. “I wasn’t expecting you until right before the wedding.”
“I didn’t think I’d be able to get away, but I suddenly thought I should be here to assist with the preparations.”
Lady Daphne hugged her soon-to-be mother-in-law warmly. “Lady Alistair.”
“Please call me Helene, dear.” She smiled and then looked up and noticed Detective Inspector Covington. “Oh dear, please don’t tell me there’s been another murder.”
“There’s been another murder . . . hmm,” I said even though there was no one to hear. “I don’t know if I like that, but—”
My computer dinged and flashed a notification. I had new mail.
I switched to email and noticed that in addition to emails about sales from two of my favorite stores, I’d also received an email from my new agent, Pamela Porter at Big Apple Literary Agency. For some ridiculous reason, my pulse sped up and I suddenly felt nervous and out of breath.
I opened the email. It contained a welcome letter, an electronic copy of our signed contract, and suggestions for me to start working on marketing my brand. I wasn’t sure what that meant or what my brand was. Her suggestions included setting up various social media accounts, including an author website.
I stared at the email and wondered what I could possibly include on an author website. However, before I allowed the panic to overtake me, I took a few deep breaths and decided to enlist the help of my nephews. Christopher was a marketing major and Zaq was studying computers. Between the two of them, I was sure they could explain to me what my author brand was and help set up the social media sites.
There was a knock on my door.
“Come in.”
Emma stuck her head in. “I hate to bother you, but I was just so excited.” She opened the door wider and held up a box. “It’s here.”
“What’s here?”
“Your dress. Can you try it on?”
I took the box. “That was fast.”
“We paid extra for rush delivery. That way, if you didn’t like it or it looked awful on, we would have time to return it and go with something else.” She smiled and stepped out, closing the door behind her.
Inside the box was the burgundy retro dress she’d shown me just the day before. It was neatly folded and, when I took it out of the packaging, it was surprisingly less wrinkled than I expected.
I took off my jeans and sweatshirt and slipped the dress over my head. At five feet three and curvy, I was concerned the dress wouldn’t fit and would emphasize every bump, bulge, and dimple. Mostly, I was worried I’d look ridiculous. However, the dress fit like a glove. I glanced at myself from all angles in the full-length mirror.
“Are you going to come out? We’re dying to see how it fits!” Emma yelled.
I opened the door and walked out into the main living area.
I wasn’t expecting the crowd that awaited me. Not only were Emma, Jillian, Mom, and Nana Jo there, but also Dawson, Angelo, Lexi, Jenna, and Frank. I stopped abruptly at the sight of the large crowd.
There were oohs, aahs, and a blush-inciting whistle from Frank.
“You look amazing, honey.” Mom wiped tears out of her eyes.
I looked at my sister and saw she, too, had a large box. “You should try yours on too. Do you have the same dress?”
She shrugged. “No idea. I left the decision up to the girls. I trust their taste.”
Jillian and Emma smiled.
Jenna got up and went into my bedroom. Within a short period of time, she came out in a beautiful dress that was the exact same shade of deep burgundy velvet; however, her dress was strapless with a sweetheart neckline and a slit that went up the side of the dress and showcased her legs, which were quite shapely.
“You look great.” I stared as my sister twirled to applause and compliments. “Do you like it?”
She nodded. “Definitely.” She smiled at both girls.
“Well, now you two look great. I’ll have to find something equally stunning for the mother of the bride.” Nana Jo smiled.
Jillian smiled shyly and then pulled another box from behind her back. “Actually, while we were shopping, we found another dress that looked like it would be perfect and so we . . .” She held the box out to Nana Jo.
Nana Jo’s surprise quickly turned to joy and she snatched the box and quickly hurried to her room. She came back in a dark gray sequined lace column dress with three-quarter sleeves and a V back. There was a slit that went up the side of the dress, and Nana Jo looked amazing.
“Awesome. I love it.” She kissed both Jillian and Emma.
“Whew.” Emma breathed a sigh of relief. “I was so nervous.”
“You look great, Nana Jo,” Christopher said.
“All of you look great,” Zaq said.
I caught Frank’s eye and he winked, which made me feel shy.
“What about the bride?” I asked.
“OMG we found the most amazing suit for your mom.” Emma pulled out her cell and swiped until she found the picture and then held it up for us to see. The picture was a beautiful off-white suit. It was simple, but what made the outfit was the brocade overcoat. The suit was elegant. My mom’s petite frame would look great.
“That’s a beautiful suit.” I glanced at my mom and saw genuine joy on her face.
“The girls were wonderful.” She patted Jillian and Emma on the arms. “It’s a lovely suit and I know it’s something I will want to wear more than once, and it won’t look like a
traditional wedding dress.” She smiled. “I will feel like a bride every time I put it on.”
“Well, all the women are fixed, now, what about the men?” Nana Jo stared at her great-grandsons.
“All set,” Christopher said. “Mom bought us black suits.”
“They’ll wear burgundy and gray ties.”
Angelo jumped around and clapped. “Yay! What about me?”
I reached down and picked him up. “Do you want a suit?”
“Yay!” He clapped his hands.
“We’ll have to see what we can do.” I looked at my watch. “We better get out of these clothes. We’ve got to pick up the girls.” I glanced around at Angelo and Lexi. “Although, I forgot . . .”
“We don’t need a babysitter. We can stay by ourselves.” Lexi turned away so her back was to me as she put her book up in front of her face.
“We thought we’d make popcorn and watch movies on television.” Jillian looked at me. “If that’s okay with you?”
“Of course.”
She smiled. “All of my favorite Christmas movies are on tonight. White Christmas, Holiday Inn, Miracle on 34th Street, Meet Me in St. Louis, and Scrooge. I love Christmas movies.”
“How about I provide dinner?” Frank asked.
Zaq looked at his watch. “I’d love to, but the movies start soon and I don’t think we’ll have time.”
Frank waved that away. “No problem.” He pulled out his cell and called in an order. “I’ll have dinner delivered so you can eat and watch your movies.”
“That’ll be nice,” Emma said. “Thank you.”
“Least I can do.” Frank kissed me. “We still on for dinner tomorrow?”
I nodded. We kissed again and he left.
Jenna, Nana Jo, and I changed out of our wedding attire. I was going to the casino with the girls, so I chose my outfit carefully. I wanted to look nice, but the Four Feathers Casino was extremely smoky. Consequently, my clothes and skin tended to reek of smoke after a few hours. So, I changed into old jeans and a sweatshirt that I could toss in the wash as soon as I got home. No dry-clean only sweaters for me tonight. When I was done, I took a last glance at myself in the mirror and headed into the main living area.
There was a crowd in front of the television eating roast beef sandwiches and watching Miracle on 34th Street. They barely looked up when we left.
Nana Jo and I drove to the retirement village and picked up the girls, and I made the thirty-minute drive to the casino.
“I know it’s not an official meeting, but I heard back from Andrew about the ice sculptor, Maxwell Dubois, and I want to tell y’all what I know before I forget,” Ruby Mae said.
Nana Jo looked over her shoulder at Ruby Mae. “Go right ahead.”
“Andrew said Max Dubois didn’t want to talk at first, but he convinced him nothing would be made public unless it absolutely had to. Max is a nice man, but he got in trouble years ago when he lived in Virginia. He robbed a bank. The police found him, and he spent five years in prison. That’s where he learned how to sculpt.”
“Sounds like he served his time and paid for his crime. Where does Lydia Lighthouse come in?” Nana Jo asked.
“Lydia contacted him specifically because she knew his past. She told him she could either propel his career forward or she could make sure he never worked again.”
“What a bit—”
“Irma!”
“Sorry.” She coughed.
“This means Lydia Lighthouse was blackmailing both Maxwell Dubois and Rudy Blakemore,” Dorothy said. “I wonder who else she was blackmailing. I’ll talk to Felicity Abrams as soon as I see her.”
The girls enjoyed going to the casino for entertainment and the Four Feathers was a nice establishment that would rival just about any casino in Las Vegas, or so I’d been told. Nights out that included a trip to the casino always started with dinner at the buffet. Ruby Mae had so many relatives we barely stepped inside the door before a great-niece, great-grandson, or third cousin twice removed came over to talk to her. These visits inevitably resulted in free buffet tickets for Ruby Mae and her friends. Tonight was no exception.
After dinner, we split up so each of us could engage in our vices. For Nana Jo, that meant poker. Dorothy went to the high-stakes room to play blackjack and see if she could find Felicity Abrams. Irma went to the bar to pick up men. Ruby Mae sat in a corner eating, talking, and knitting. For me, I liked penny slot machines to engage in mindless low-stakes gambling. Twenty dollars could go a long way on penny slots.
Tonight, I found a machine called Sun and Moon. Playing all lines cost me a whopping twenty cents and, after my first two spins, I hit the bonus round, which resulted in fifty free spins. Betting the minimum amount would never make me rich but wouldn’t result in wiping me out early either. Slow and steady, that was how I liked to play.
While I played, I thought through what we’d learned about Lydia Lighthouse and tried to fit the pieces together. Lydia Lighthouse was a bully and a blackmailer. She blackmailed Max Dubois and Rudy Blakemore. Although, I wondered what she had on Rudy. She couldn’t have learned he’d fathered April’s baby or April wouldn’t have been hiding it. Nor would she still have been working for Lydia, if she could be believed.
Lydia Lighthouse was stealing from her customers. She charged more for services than they cost and then bullied or blackmailed the vendors into reducing their rates and pocketed the difference. She bullied her assistant, April.
Chances were good she was blackmailing Margaret. Lydia must have known Margaret was married—still married to Bufford Jones. We needed to look more closely at Margaret. She could have killed Lydia. She could have—my mind boggled. “Jones, how could I have missed that?” I asked the lady sitting next to me. Thankfully, she must have thought I was talking about my machine. She merely shrugged and continued playing.
When my games finished, I cashed out and went to the lobby to wait. I needed to mull over the idea floating in my head.
At the front of the casino there were two massive fireplaces on either side of the door with sitting areas. Ruby Mae was knitting by the fireplace. There was a young girl in a white chef’s outfit sitting nearby. The two of them looked comfortable, and I didn’t want to disrupt, so I moved to the opposite side of the hall, in front of the other fireplace, and sat to think.
Writing always helped my thought processes. I hadn’t brought my laptop, but I had started putting a notebook in my purse. That way, when ideas came or when I found myself waiting, I could still get some writing done.
Lady Alistair was quickly brought up to speed on the murder.
“Philippe Claiborne?” She stirred her tea absentmindedly. “Why does that name sound familiar?”
“Did you know him?” Lady Elizabeth asked.
She sat quiet for a few minutes and then shook her head. “I don’t think so, but that name does sound very familiar. I think I know of him, but, for the life of me, I can’t remember why.”
Detective Inspector Covington flipped through his notes. “Let’s see. You’ve got Percy Waddington, Major Davies, and Sir Wilbur Hampton?”
“That’s it!” Lady Alistair placed her teacup on the table. “That’s where I heard the name Philippe Claiborne.” She turned to Lady Elizabeth. “You must remember the scandal it caused.” She looked around the room. “It was . . . at least three . . . no . . . four years ago now, but now that I think about it, I think you had gone abroad, hadn’t you?” She looked at Lady Elizabeth.
“Mother, I love you, but if you don’t get on with the story, I’m going to throttle you,” James said.
“Yes, of course. Now, where was I?” She paused. “Yes. It wasn’t until you said all of the names together that I remembered. You see, Sir Wilbur Hampton was engaged to marry Percy Waddington’s younger sister.” She picked up her teacup and stirred the tea. “Yes, that was it. Percy Waddington is an art dealer and hired a young man he’d gone to school with to help plan the wedding.”
“L
et me guess, Philippe Claiborne?” Detective Inspector Covington asked.
She smiled. “Yes. Well, no one really knows all of the details, but whatever happened, Sir Wilbur called off the wedding at the last minute and refused to marry the girl.”
Lady Elizabeth nodded. “I do recall some scandal. It would have been four years ago, in 1934. We had been abroad most of the year. William’s cousin, Albert, died in that mountaineering accident in February.” She turned to her husband. “Remember, dear?”
Lord William nodded. “Of course. Albert and I were good friends.” He puffed on his pipe. “King of Belgium, but a good sort. Grew up in the Palace of the Count of Flanders. Wasn’t supposed to be king, you know. His uncle’s son died and then Albert’s older brother died young. That left Albert second in line for the throne, behind his uncle.” Lord William smoked. “Concerned about the working class, I remember. He used to get in trouble for dressing up like common citizens and sneaking out of the palace to see about the living conditions.” He puffed. “Good chap.”
“Yes, dear. I always liked Albert too.” Lady Elizabeth pulled out her knitting. “We stayed in Belgium for a while after the funeral to see Leopold’s coronation, then we came back in November for the wedding. My cousin, Alice, married Henry, the Duke of Gloucester.”
“It happened when you were in Belgium,” Lady Alistair continued. “Mary Waddington was distraught and Percy was furious.” She leaned forward. “They say she had a nervous breakdown and had to go to Australia and stay with relatives to recover.” She looked knowingly at Lady Elizabeth.
“Oh dear, I see.” Lady Elizabeth knitted. “Isn’t that the same time Lady Catherine’s tiara was stolen?”
Lady Alistair nodded. “I believe so, plus . . . the other incident.”
Detective Inspector Covington looked from Lady Elizabeth to Lady Alistair. When neither rushed to explain he grew impatient. “Perhaps one of you could explain what any of this has to do with Philippe Claiborne?”
