by V. M. Burns
“Blasted doctor.” Lord William beat his fist on the bed but winced as his leg teetered and nearly fell of the pillow where he had it propped.
Lady Elizabeth sat in a straight back chair near her husband’s side. “Now, dear, you know it isn’t Doctor Haygood’s fault your gout flared up. You have nobody to blame but yourself.”
“You’d think he could do more than say, ‘keep your leg elevated and watch your diet.’ My God, it’s the twentieth century. Medicine should have a cure for this by now. I’m surprised he didn’t pull out leeches. It’s archaic.”
Lady Elizabeth smiled. She was familiar with her husband’s rants and knew he was in a great amount of pain.
Penelope paced. “When the king called, did he say how he expected us to keep this out of the newspapers?”
Daphne looked up from her seat at the window. “Especially with the editor of the London Times here in the house.”
Victor leaned against a large armoire. “I doubt if Fordham-Baker even knows what day of the week it is. The man’s been plastered all day.”
Lady Elizabeth looked at Victor and then mumbled, “I wonder . . .”
“Maybe we can keep him that way,” Penelope said.
Lady Elizabeth looked at her niece. “That might not be a bad idea.” She took a deep breath. “The king wants us to solve this murder, like we did with Charles Parker’s.”
Penelope stopped pacing and turned to stare at her aunt. “But that was different. We were trying to save a friend.”
Elizabeth sighed. “Now we’re trying to save a member of our family.”
Penelope looked sheepish. “You’re right. Whether we like it or not, Wallis is married to our cousin. She’s family.”
Daphne sighed. “Alright then, where do we begin? Remember, I wasn’t involved in your other investigation.”
“That’s right. I’d forgotten.” Lady Elizabeth frowned. “Well, I think we divide and conquer. First, let’s go through what we know and then we can come up with our plan of attack.”
Lord William saluted his wife. “Aye, captain.”
Lady Elizabeth smiled.
Penelope paced. “We know she was shot in the marsh, but we don’t know what she was doing there.”
“Yes we do.” Lord William sat up straight. “In all the excitement and pain”—he patted his leg—“I nearly forgot. When I was talking to Detective Inspector Covington, one of the constables brought him a note.” Lord William’s lips twitched as he struggled to hold back a smile. “I managed to get a look at the note when he was distracted.”
“Well done,” Lady Elizabeth said with pride and saluted her husband.
He beamed. “The note was from Lord Charles, asking her to meet him in the trees by the marsh.”
“That’s very odd. I wonder why he chose that lo cation,” Lady Elizabeth mused.
“I think Detective Inspector Covington was going to find out,” Lord William continued. “He was heading to talk to Charles but got distracted by the call from the king and then the call from the chief inspector.”
“Now that was odd,” Penelope said. “Why do you suppose he was called back to London?”
Lady Elizabeth reflected, “I suspect Bertie might have applied a little royal pressure. I think he’s asked the Yard to back off for a few days to buy us time to figure this thing out.”
Penelope stared. “And they listened?”
“The king carries a lot of weight. There used to be a time when the aristocracy ruled supreme.” Lord William shook his head. “Those days are gone now.”
“And rightly so,” Lady Elizabeth said. “Justice shouldn’t be reserved for the nobility.”
“So, we need to find out from Lord Charles why he wanted to meet with Rebecca,” Lady Elizabeth said.
Daphne smiled. “I can tell you why he wanted to meet with her. It’s because he’s a dirty old man and was most likely having a fling with her, right under his wife’s nose.”
Everyone stared.
“I think Lady Abigail was well aware of what Lord Charles was up to,” Penelope added. “I sat next to her the other night, and she may look like a mouse, but I could tell she was bothered.”
“Bothered enough to kill?” Victor asked.
Penelope shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“If she was, she certainly had the skill to do it,” Daphne said. “I heard her say she was a crack shot in America. Apparently she won an Annie Oakley shoot ing trophy in the States when she was a young girl.”
“Very interesting.” Lady Elizabeth turned to her hus band. “Do you feel up to doing a little investigating?”
Lord William nodded. “I can’t go tramping around the grounds, but I can talk, and Charles and I are friendly enough.”
Lady Elizabeth nodded. “Wonderful. You talk to Lord Charles and see what you can find out.” She turned to Daphne. “Daphne, I’d like you to figure out who had the opportunity to shoot her. Where was everyone at the time of the shooting?”
Daphne frowned. “You want to know who was unaccounted for?”
Lady Elizabeth nodded. “Yes. That’s it exactly. Do you think you can do that?”
She nodded.
“What would you like us to do?” Penelope asked.
Lady Elizabeth looked at Victor. “I know Bertie may want us to keep the police out of this, but there are things we need to know. I want you to work with Detective Inspector Covington to find out as much as you can about the gun that was used.”
Victor nodded.
“What about me?” Penelope asked.
“I’d like you to talk to the servants. I’m sure they can tell you plenty about what was going on, plus, they’ve probably spent more time with Rebecca than anyone else.”
Penelope nodded. “What are you going to do?”
Lady Elizabeth hesitated. “I’m going to try and make sense of this. If you stop and think about it, it really doesn’t make any sense. Why would anyone want to kill the maid?”
“You think the duchess was the intended victim?” Victor asked.
Lady Elizabeth shook her head. “I don’t know. This whole thing seems like an elaborate charade.”
Daphne leaned forward. “I know what you mean. There are diplomats from all over the world staying under one roof. The world is on the brink of war and the tension is thick enough to cut with a knife and the only casualty is a French maid.”
“Exactly.” Lady Elizabeth was surprised at her niece’s perception. “I feel this whole thing has been staged.”
“But the duchess arranged the whole thing. Surely she must be the puppeteer behind the scenes,” Victor said.
Lady Elizabeth frowned. “Maybe. Wallis certainly has her own motives, but I’m not sure she is . . . well, to be completely honest, I don’t think she’s smart enough to be the mastermind behind this.”
“Who then?” Victor asked.
“I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.”
Chapter 16
I woke up bright and early Sunday morning. Despite getting less than eight hours of sleep, I felt happy and alert. My good mood could have been attributed to the eight-thousand-dollar check in my purse. Or it could be related to the fact the twins had Snickers and Oreo and I was able to sleep past three. A night without my dogs was nice, but awkward. It felt weird not to have to look under my feet before I stood up or went down a flight of stairs, to make sure I didn’t step on or trip over a lounging poodle.
I showered and put on one of my new outfits, a denim dress that was fitted at the top and flared at the bottom. I had a cup of coffee and sniffed my flowers, which made me smile. I picked up my cell and sent a thank-you text message.
“What are you grinning at?” Nana Jo came into the kitchen and hopped on a barstool.
“Nothing. I’m just very thankful.”
She sipped the coffee I handed her. “Well, I suppose you have eight thousand reasons to be.”
“I got a text from Dawson. He said his dad is still in the coma. He
’s going to stay there with him.”
She nodded. “Maybe we can take him something to eat later today.”
“That’s a great idea.” I looked at the time. “You should come to church with Mom and me today. I’ll treat you to dinner and we can pick up the girls and head to MISU for the memorial service. Afterward, we’ll go check on Dawson.”
Nana Jo agreed and got dressed.
My mom attended a large church located in downtown South Harbor. The building was brick but painted white with stained glass, a steeple, and bells. The church was one hundred and twelve years old and from the outside, nothing much had changed over the years. The changes were more noticeable inside. It still had a large pipe organ, but there was also a keyboard, a synthesizer, and drums. The pastor who baptized me and my sister as children died a few years ago. The new minister was very young. The congregation had grown substantially since Pastor Andy Timmons was installed. His messages were contemporary, as was the music. This change caused dissatisfaction from the older members, who were steeped in the traditional hymns and messages from decades gone by. To his credit, Pastor Timmons had done a fine job of finding the middle ground. The church now had two services. The first was traditional, with hymns and organ music. The second service was much more contemporary, with upbeat music.
Normally, I found the traditional hymns boring and dreary. Today I felt comfort in the ritual of tradition and sang songs of thanks with a glad heart.
Afterward, I treated Nana Jo and my mom to brunch at the Boulevard Hotel, one of the oldest and nicest hotels in South Harbor. When my mom learned we were going to River Bend to see Dawson, she insisted on picking up flowers for us to take with us. Nana Jo and I picked up extra flowers to take to the memorial service for Melody. We invited Mom to go along, but she declined with a vague excuse. I dropped her at home and headed to the retirement village and picked up the girls.
As arranged, I met Jillian and Emma at the student union. I was surprised to see Zaq there too, although I gathered he was there for Emma and not Melody. The memorial service was to be held at the campus chapel, a quaint building in the center of campus. The chapel had wooden pews, stained glass windows, and an ornately carved altar of dark mahogany. The building was small and only held about one hundred people, which didn’t seem to be a problem. Only about twenty people showed up, despite the flyers Jillian placed all over campus and the announcement she put in the school newspaper.
We mingled among the few guests, but with a crowd this small, there wasn’t much to find out. When I bought the flowers, I also picked up a memorial book for signatures. I planned to send it to Cassidy when this was over.
I was disappointed by the low turnout until I saw Professor Harley Quin walk in. I smiled as he approached. I was glad I had on one of my new dresses.
“Hello, beautiful. You look amazing.”
“What a lovely greeting,” I said.
“I’ll bet you say that to all the girls.” Nana Jo smiled.
“Nana Jo, this is a friend, Professor Harley Quin. He’s helping with my book.” I turned to Harley. “This is my grandmother, Nana Jo.”
Normally, Nana Jo was super friendly, but there was an edge to her voice. She held out her hand. “Nice to meet you.” She shook his hand. “Please, call me Josephine.”
Heat rushed to my face. Harley raised an eyebrow but smiled.
An awkward silence followed. I struggled to think of something to fill the gap. I looked around. Virgil Russell had entered the chapel. “Isn’t that Virgil Russell?”
Nana Jo looked but then turned back to Harley. “Professor Quin, weren’t you Melody’s teacher?”
“Quite so. Quite so. Although, I didn’t know her. In fact, I’m not sure I actually ever met her personally. I gather she didn’t attend many classes.”
“But she was getting an A in your class. That’s rather odd, don’t you think?”
Nana Jo was staring at Harley as if he were one of the students in her class. She was tall and could be very intimidating when she wanted to, and apparently she wanted to be today.
“I asked Harley about that. It turns out it was all just an error with the computer system,” I said.
“Hmm . . . convenient,” Nana Jo mumbled just loud enough for Harley to hear.
He laughed. “I have to admit, I’m not great with computers, and the system they use here in the States is different from the one I used back home in England.”
“Where exactly are you from?” she asked.
“He’s British,” I said.
“I can tell by the accent.” Nana Jo smiled. “I meant, where in Great Britain?”
He chuckled. “It’s a very small village. I doubt if you’ve ever heard of it—”
“Try me.”
“It’s a small town . . . Deering Vale. Ever heard of it?”
Nana Jo hesitated. “It sounds vaguely familiar.”
“One English village is much like another. Small thatched roof cottages, a church, a pub, and a lot of sheep.” He laughed.
“What brings you to North Harbor?”
“I’m researching a book on the House of David. Fascinating stuff.”
I stood behind Harley and caught Nana Jo’s gaze. I raised my eyebrows and flicked my head to the side to indicate she should scram.
She looked at the door. “My God, it’s Stinky Pitt.”
I turned. Detective Pitt was standing against the wall.
Harley looked startled.
“Well, it’s been a pleasure meeting you, Dr. Quin, but I’ve got to go and . . . talk to a friend. Please excuse me.”
When Nana Jo left, I exhaled, and Harley looked at me and laughed. “Your grandmother is very protective.” He pulled at his collar but smiled.
“I’m sorry. Usually she’s very friendly.”
He placed his arm around my back and whispered in my ear, “Maybe she hasn’t felt like you needed protecting before.”
My stomach fluttered. My face heated and I knew I had a silly grin on my face, but I couldn’t stop myself. His breath caressed my neck and my heart pounded in my ears. I turned my head slightly and looked in his eyes and giggled like a schoolgirl.
He smiled but didn’t remove his hand from my waist.
I was grateful when the minister stood and asked everyone to take their seats.
With his hand on my back, Harley steered me to a seat near the front of the small church on the opposite end of the pew from where Nana Jo was sitting with the girls.
We took our seats.
Jillian read a scripture from the Bible. Everyone recited the Lord’s Prayer. The minister said a few words. It was clear he hadn’t known Melody, but he talked about a young life taken too soon and the promise of eternity in heaven. He then asked if anyone wished to speak about Melody. No one moved, and I was concerned no one would get up. Imagine my surprise when Nana Jo rose and walked to the front.
“I only met Melody a couple of days before she died, but she was an intelligent girl who had experienced a great deal of trouble in her young life. Despite those obstacles, she found a way to escape. She knew a lot about people and mastered a number of skills in her young life. She used her skills and her assets to move ahead. She had tremendous plans. Unfortunately, someone thwarted her plans. I always feel it’s such a shame when young people are taken from this earth without a chance to live and experience life.”
I was thoroughly amazed. Everything she said was the truth, but there was definitely more behind her words, much would only have meaning to a small few. Nana Jo was brilliant.
Once Nana Jo got the ball rolling, several others rose and said nice things, including Emma and Jillian. The last to speak was Virgil Russell. He seemed genuinely grieved. He spoke of Melody’s beauty and her strength. He pulled out a handkerchief and hurriedly sat down.
When no one else got up, the minister thanked everyone for coming and encouraged us to seek peace in the Word of God and then prayed and dismissed us. Irma immediately sidled up to Vir
gil Russell, while Nana Jo talked to Stinky Pitt. Dorothy talked to Jillian and a small group of students. Everyone was working and here I was, sitting with Harley. I felt guilty. My focus should be on finding Melody’s killer.
“Thank you again for the flowers. They were lovely.”
He leaned close and whispered, “They were really a bribe.”
“A bribe?”
“I’m hoping you’ll go out again with me.”
“You don’t have to bribe me to go out with you,” I said. “All you have to do is ask.”
“Good. How about dinner?”
“I’m sorry, I can’t tonight. I have to check on Dawson. His dad’s in the hospital.”
Harley looked surprised. “Really? Is he going to be okay?”
“We don’t know. He was hit by a car. He’s in intensive care. It doesn’t look good.”
“I’m very sorry to hear that.” He did look sorry too, really troubled. “Which hospital?”
“Memorial in River Bend. How about tomorrow night?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Sorry. I can’t tomorrow night. I’ve got a late class. Tuesday?”
I shook my head. “Tuesday night is girls’ night. But I’m free Wednesday.”
“Wednesday it is.”
I thanked Jillian for all her hard work coordinating the memorial, and then we loaded into the car. We stopped once on the way to the hospital and picked up snacks for Dawson. There were several places to eat at the hospital, including a Subway and a River Bend Chocolate Factory. However, I’d seen him eat and knew it would be expensive for him. Nana Jo insisted on getting necessities like underwear, socks, orange juice, peanut butter, and Doritos; just the necessities.
On the ride to the hospital, Nana Jo filled us in on her conversation with Stinky Pitt. “He thinks Virgil killed Melody and tried to kill A-squared. He’s still waiting for the report on Virgil’s car to come back to see if there’s any trace evidence from the hit-and-run. In the meantime, he’s keeping a close eye on him.”
