by V. M. Burns
Lady Elizabeth nodded. “Of course.”
Everyone stared at the butler.
“Millie found this in the Duchess of Windsor’s wastebasket.” The butler held up a small piece of paper in the shape of a funnel. Everyone stared, but Detective Inspector Covington immediately hopped up and practically ran to the butler’s side.
The detective grabbed the paper and stared at it and then whistled. “I need to have this tested.” He wrapped the funnel in a handkerchief and placed it in his pocket.
Thompkins nodded. “I believe Her Grace is in the parlor with the rest of the guests.”
Lady Elizabeth looked thoughtful.
“I know that look.” Lord William sat up straight and stared at his wife. “You’ve figured it out.”
Everyone stared at Lady Elizabeth. For several moments, she stared off into space. Eventually, she nodded and looked around and seemed to notice everyone was staring at her. “I’m sorry. Did you say something, dear?”
“You’ve figured out who the murderer is, haven’t you?” Penelope walked over to her aunt. “Tell us.”
Lady Elizabeth looked around at her family. “Well, I believe I have.”
Detective Inspector Covington anxiously looked at her but stood very still.
“I’m afraid I’ve been terribly dense. I should have figured it out sooner. I believe Daphne commented on how ‘theatrical’ the murder seemed. I should have known then. Maybe that poor man wouldn’t have died,” Lady Elizabeth said softly. “But, well, at least we can give him justice.”
“Who did it?” Detective Covington asked.
“Count Rudolph, of course. He used to be an actor before World War I. He even starred in some god-awful propaganda movie advocating the involuntary sterilization of the disabled and those with hereditary diseases.” She shivered. “He staged the murder. The setting, a British country home. The duchess, killed by the Polish ambassador.”
Penelope stared at her aunt. “But the duchess wasn’t killed.”
“I think the count put the note in the duchess’s pocket, sometime during the night when they were together. He wasn’t to know she would have her maid wear her clothes.”
“And Rebecca probably found the note in her pocket and thought the duchess wanted to meet her,” Penelope said.
Victor looked confused. “But, Józef Lipski has an iron-tight alibi. There’s no way he could have killed her.”
Lady Elizabeth nodded. “But Count Rudolph wasn’t to know about that. Virginia Hall is very casual about her wooden leg. She jokes and calls it Cuthbert, but I think she was embarrassed about getting it stuck in the mud. Neither she nor Lipski told anyone about the incident.”
“But how did he kill her? Wouldn’t he have been missed by the other members of his shooting party?” Penelope asked.
Lord William reddened. “Count Rudolph was with Georges Brasseur and Wallis. I suspect it would be pretty easy for a gentleman to . . . excuse himself for a few minutes and sneak off.”
Daphne stared at her uncle. “Excuse himself?”
Lord William squirmed uncomfortably.
Penelope smiled. “You mean to relieve himself?”
Lord William’s face reddened and he puffed on his pipe.
“But surely someone would have mentioned it,” Daphne added.
“At the time it probably seemed normal. Later, after they’d had time to think about it, they might have suspected. That’s probably why he killed Brasseur,” Victor said.
Lady Elizabeth nodded. “I suspect so.”
“But surely the Duchess of Windsor would have said something,” Daphne said.
Lady Elizabeth sighed. “Perhaps, but the duchess may have found herself in an awkward situation. Remember, she had been seen coming out of his bedroom. She isn’t exactly well loved by the British public at the moment. That type of negative publicity would have been the last thing she wanted.”
“Where is he?” Detective Inspector Covington asked.
“I believe Count Rudolph and the duchess are in the parlor,” Thompkins said.
Detective Inspector Covington got a constable and went to confront the count. Victor went along.
As the detectives entered the parlor, Count Rudolph glanced up at the approaching officers. A glimmer of re alization flashed in his eyes and was quickly followed by panic. Before the detectives knew what was hap pening, Count Rudolph made a mad dash toward the door. He pushed the detectives aside and quickly closed the door behind him and turned the lock.
When Detective Inspector Covington regained his feet, he pulled frantically at the doorknobs, but the heavy doors were locked.
Detective Covington threw his body against the doors in an effort to force them open, but the sturdy oak doors didn’t budge.
Victor looked around for a way out. He glanced at the French doors. “Quickly, the window.”
They quickly unlatched the windows and rushed out.
Outside, they split up. Detective Covington and Victor ran in one direction and the constable ran in the other.
Around the back of the house, Victor spotted Count Rudolph making a run for the garage. “There. He’s going for the garage.”
The footmen, Jim and Frank, were carrying a large basket of laundry outside for Gladys, who followed close behind.
“Stop him!” Victor yelled.
The footmen looked where Victor pointed and dropped the basket and took off after the count.
Frank caught up to Count Rudolph seconds be fore Jim. When they were mere feet from their tar get, both men took their stance, knees bent, feet about shoulder width apart, back straight, and heads up. In a few quick steps, they closed the gap between them and the count. They lowered their shoulders and wrapped both arms around him and took him to the ground, just as they had been taught to tackle ball carriers on the rugby field.
Count Rudolph struggled briefly but quickly recog nized the futility of his situation. Detective Covington arrived and relieved the footmen of their prey. “Well done!”
Frank and Jim looked at Victor, who nodded fur ther approval.
The Duchess of Windsor was so upset when told by Lady Elizabeth of Count Rudolph’s actions, she im mediately left and returned to Fort Belvedere; poor plumbing notwithstanding.
Józef Lipski received a telegram recalling him to Poland. The assassination of the German ambassador and fear of escalating violence were cited as the rea sons for his return. Lipski thanked the Marsh family profusely before leaving.
Lord and Lady Chitterly made discreet depar tures.
Fordham Baker was one of the last to leave.
Lady Elizabeth waited in the hall to say goodbye.
“Thank you so much for the wonderful hospital ity,” Fordham Baker said to Lady Elizabeth as he pre pared to depart.
Lady Elizabeth smiled. “And thanks are due to you, too, I think.”
He blinked and looked at Lady Elizabeth with sur prise. “To me, your ladyship? I don’t know what you mean?”
“I think you do.” She smiled. “I think you were not as . . . indisposed as you pretended to be. I also think you are the one responsible for feeding information to Claud Cockburn.”
He blinked. “I don’t know . . .” He chuckled. “What gave me away?”
“You were quite convincing.” Lady Elizabeth smiled. “But we were very concerned about your health. So, I had my butler substitute the scotch with a diluted mixture. Your reaction was the same to both.”
“I should have guessed.” He laughed. “I take back all the evil thoughts I had about the quality of your cellars.” He laughed until he had to wipe tears from his eyes. “I find people are very reticent to speak freely in front of a newspaper editor unless he’s in a drunken stupor. Then you would be surprised what they will say.”
Lady Elizabeth bid him farewell.
Virginia Hall looked for Lady Daphne before she left. She found her in the library, sitting on the window seat.
Daphne looked up at her. “Are you leavi
ng? Well, it’s been a pleasure meeting you,” she said politely.
Virginia Hall smiled. “You British ladies are such well-bred liars. You haven’t enjoyed meeting me at all.”
Daphne looked shocked. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Don’t get your back up, dear. It’s not your fault, and I don’t blame you one little bit.” She sat down on the window seat next to Daphne. “I blame that handsome man of yours.”
Daphne’s face heated and she looked down. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Yes, you do. Lord James FitzAndrew Browning.” Virginia looked around the room. “I told James he needed to come clean and explain everything to you, but he wouldn’t do it.”
Daphne stood up abruptly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I don’t think I want to hear it.” She turned and took several steps away.
“There’s nothing going on between James and me,” Virginia said.
Daphne stopped. “What?”
Virginia got up and walked over to Daphne. “Look. He should have told you himself, but he just kept saying you should trust him.” She huffed. “Men. They’re impossible.” She pulled a small card out of her purse and showed it to Daphne. “I work for the American Secret Service. I was sent here to keep an eye on Józef Lipski. The president believed the Germans might be up to some funny business and looks like he was right.”
“You’re a spy?” Daphne asked.
Virginia Hall nodded. “Pretty good cover, right? Who’d believe a one legged woman could be a spy?” She patted her leg.
“Is that real?” She pointed to the leg.
“Yes. Cuthbert’s real alright.” She pulled up her skirt so Daphne could see the buckle. She put away her identification card and stared at Daphne. “He really does care about you.”
Daphne shook her head. “If he did, why didn’t he tell me the truth?”
“Because I was a fool,” James said from the doorway.
Daphne turned at the sound of his voice.
Virginia Hall gave her a hug and whispered, “I think you and I could be great friends. I hope so.”
Daphne squeezed her back and whispered, “Thank you.”
Virginia nodded to James as she left.
Daphne returned to her seat, and James walked over and stood next to her.
“I’m terribly sorry, darling. I should have told you the truth from the beginning.”
“No, I’m sorry. I was just . . . jealous.” She laughed. “It’s a new emotion for me. I don’t think I’ve ever been jealous of anyone before.”
James held her hand. “You don’t have any reason to be. You have my heart totally and completely.” He looked down. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” Daphne whispered.
James pulled Daphne toward him and kissed her passionately and thoroughly. Daphne couldn’t have said whether they kissed for seconds or hours.
When they finally pulled apart, James held her close and whispered, “Darling, I plan to make an offi cial request for your hand, but I have one favor to ask of you.”
Daphne snuggled next to him like a kitten. “Any thing.”
“I would like to introduce you to my mother.”
Daphne smiled. “I would like nothing better.”
Lady Daphne had no idea how she would regret that remark.
“Hmmm. Maybe foreshadowing is a bit much here,” I said aloud, even though there was no one to hear.
I better leave that part out. I deleted the last sentence and read the last few lines.
“I would like to introduce you to my mother.”
Daphne smiled. “I would like nothing better.”
THE END
Chapter 23
The Sleuthing Seniors Book Club met on Thursdays. That was the only reason I came downstairs. The bruise on my forehead was now a deep purple and it looked like I was getting a black eye. However, after a day alone, I was tired of my own company.
Dawson had been busy baking most of the day. Tomorrow, he would be allowed back at school and back on the football team. One of my favorite desserts was carrot cake, so he’d made a delicious carrot cake with cream cheese icing. It was moist and tasty and I ate more than I should, but I enjoyed every bite.
“Have you ladies decided on your next book?” I asked.
“We’re going for Raymond Chandler’s The Big Sleep,” Dorothy said.
“That’s a good one,” Nana Jo added.
“Is there sex in it?” Irma asked.
I thought back. “It’s been a while since I read it, but I don’t think so.”
Irma looked disappointed.
“I’ve got something for you.” I went to the back office and came back with three books which I placed in front of Irma. “I ordered these for you.”
She looked at them. They were romance novels by Brenda Jackson.
“A Brother’s Honor is the first book in the series. A Man’s Promise is the second, and A Lover’s Vow is the third. Technically, they’re romances, not mysteries, but there is definitely a mystery subplot. I thought you might enjoy them.”
Irma coughed and gave me a hug. “Thank you, Sam. I can’t wait to read them.”
Frank Patterson entered with a bottle of champagne, followed by Dawson, who had a tray of glasses. Nana Jo came over to me with a sly smile on her face and a mysterious envelope in her hand. “Sam, I have a surprise for you.”
I looked at Nana Jo and tried to imagine what the surprise might be. I looked around at the girls, and they seemed to be a mixture of happiness and nervous anxiety.
Nana Jo took a deep breath. “We know how . . . deeply private you are about your book and your writing. We all think it’s wonderful.”
I could feel the heat rush to my face. It had been difficult to allow the girls to read my book, but they were all very complimentary. However, they were my friends and I knew they would never say or do anything to hurt me.
Dorothy said, “Josephine, stop beating around the bush and tell the girl.”
I looked from Dorothy to Nana Jo. “Tell me what?”
Nana Jo hesitated for a moment. “You know Ruby Mae has a second cousin whose daughter is a literary agent in New York.”
I suddenly felt a huge weight in the pit of my stomach. “Yes.”
“Well, we sent her a copy of your manuscript, and she loved it.”
“You did what?” My head was dizzy and I felt like I needed to puke.
Nana Jo looked shocked. “We . . . I wanted to help.”
I put my head between my knees for several moments. The room was completely quiet.
When I finally felt I could sit up without getting sick, I did. Tears streamed down my face.
Nana Jo hurried to my seat. “I’m so sorry, Sam.” She put her arms around me to comfort me. “I never would have done it if I’d known it would upset you this much.”
I pulled away from her and stood. “Upset?” I stared at Nana Jo.
Her expression was one of disappointment and remorse. I looked around at the girls and each of them looked ashamed.
I took several deep breaths and collected myself. Then I threw both arms around my grandmother. “Thank you.”
Nana Jo pushed me away to look in my face. Seeing I was okay, she pulled me close and hugged me tightly.
Irma took a swig from her flask. “Jesus Christ, you scared the living daylights out of me.”
Dorothy and Ruby Mae came over and hugged me. Frank popped the cork and poured champagne into glasses.
“I’m just in shock. I’m sorry. I just can’t believe it.” I stared at the letter Nana Jo handed me.
“You’d better believe it.” Nana Jo smiled at Sam. “I have one more surprise for you.”
“I don’t know if I can take any more.”
“I decided how I want to spend my share of the casino winnings.” She pulled an envelope out of her back pocket and handed it to me.
I opened the envelope. Inside were brochures and flyers for a trip to E
ngland. I looked at my grandmother with tears in my eyes. “Really?”
“I thought it would help with your research . . . for your next book.”
I was dumbstruck. Tears streamed down my face. I grabbed Nana Jo and squeezed her. “Thank you.”
“You deserve it.” Nana Jo wiped away a tear and took a drink from the glass of champagne Dawson handed her. “Now, let’s get this party started.”
Please turn the page for an exciting sneak peek of
the next Mystery Bookshop Mystery
THE NOVEL ART OF MURDER
coming soon wherever print and e-books are sold!
Chapter 1
“What the blazes do you mean I didn’t get the part?” Nana Jo’s face turned beet red and she leapt up from her chair.
I had never been so happy for a slow morning crowd at the bookstore as I was at that minute. My grandmother was about to blow a gasket, and while it might prove entertaining, I preferred keeping the drama contained to family and friends.
“Josephine, calm down.” Dorothy Clark was one of my grandmother’s oldest friends, which was probably why she was nominated to break the bad news to her.
“Don’t tell me to calm down. I am calm. I’m always calm.” Nana Jo pounded the table with her hand. The mugs shook and splashed coffee on the table. “If I want to kick up a ruckus, I’ll kick up a ruckus.” She pounded the table again and then marched over to the counter and grabbed a dishcloth to wipe up the mess.
Ruby Mae Stevenson, another of Nana Jo’s friends, shook her head and moved her knitting out of the way of the spills. “I told you she wouldn’t take it well.”
“I’ve had the lead role in the Shady Acres Senior Follies for the past ten years. That role was created specifically for me. I don’t just play the part of Eudora Hooper, retired schoolmarm dreaming about becoming a famous showgirl. I am Eudora Hooper.” Nana Jo wiped up the spilled coffee.
“I know, and you’ve played the role splendidly.” Dorothy’s face reflected her sincerity.
