The Killing at Kaldaire House

by Kate Parker

  “I’m going to bed,” a bored female voice said at a distance. That had to be the new Lady Kaldaire.

  “You’re home early from the opera. Is Cecily unwell?” Lady Kaldaire said.

  “Headache. I think it was the singing.”

  “Well, it’s time for me to go to bed, too. Good night, Laurence. Sleep well.”

  I heard her cross the carpet and then give a little gasp. I glanced through the gap to see the new Lord Kaldaire gripping her wrist.

  “Don’t be vulgar,” she said with a sneer in her voice.

  “We’ll talk tomorrow. And whatever Horace allowed, this is my study now. Remember that.”

  “Don’t you want his killer found?”

  “Let the men who are paid to do it find his murderer.” He let go of her wrist with a little toss. “Good night, Roberta.”

  “Don’t be peevish, Laurence. Good night.”

  “It’s Lord Kaldaire, now.” I couldn’t see his face, but I knew from the sound of his voice he was furious. And closer to my hiding place. Lady Kaldaire could certainly goad him, but was that wise?

  The draperies were pulled back and I found myself face-to-face with the new Lord Kaldaire. “Who are you and what are you doing in my study?” he demanded.

  From the look on his face, I knew I was in trouble, and like the stories I heard about so many of his class, I suspected he could be violent.

  “I’m Miss Gates. Lady Kaldaire asked for my assistance in going through her husband’s correspondence.” I made a good show of acting as if I should be there, but my knees were ready to give way beneath me. At least my voice hadn’t failed me yet.

  “You won’t find any correspondence behind the draperies,” he said with a sneer. “Gregson! Gregson!” he shouted.

  “Yes, my lord?”

  “Ring Scotland Yard. We have a burglar.”

  “Nonsense, Laurence,” Lady Kaldaire said. “She is here because I invited her.”

  “You don’t invite anyone into my study. Stay right there,” he added when I tried to move around him into the room.

  I still planned to walk into the room. Apparently, I had to wait until he decided to move before I could do so. Despite the seriousness of my situation, I was too angry at this brand-new boorish lord and his lack of reasonableness to consider how the night was going to end.

  He finally walked over to Lady Kaldaire and I stepped into the room.

  “Did I give you permission to move?”

  I only stared at him, thinking that was the best reply I could make.

  He strode back and glared at me, shoving his face toward mine. He wasn’t the first aristocrat to try to bully me. Close up, I could see wrinkles beginning to form in his pudgy face. He was clean-shaven and well groomed, but his breath smelled of brandy and rotten meat. I put a hand in front of my nose and mouth and turned away, making a face.

  He grabbed my wrist, dragged me forward, and gave me a hard shove into a chair. At my first move, he raised his hand to me. “Stay there, you—tart.”

  Chapter Nine

  “Laurence.” Lady Kaldaire strode over to him. “You simply misunderstand. There is no cause for being rude.”

  “She was Horace’s dollymop, wasn’t she?”

  I rose, furious at his allegation. “I certainly was not.”

  “It would explain a few things,” he said, smirking as he walked away.

  “Only if you have a fevered imagination and no taste,” Lady Kaldaire said, holding me back when I moved to go after him.

  She was right. He was trying to goad me. And he was doing a good job. I relaxed my fists and dropped back into the chair. Lady Kaldaire sat in another nearby.

  Then, after an interminable wait, Detective Inspector Russell walked in with his sergeant. From the expression on his face, all I could think was everything was over. Matthew would never get to school and my business, along with my reputation, was destroyed.

  I tried giving him a smile, but the muscles in my face quickly sagged at the sight of his glare.

  Lord Kaldaire went through a lengthy explanation of how I’d entered his study, in fact his house, without his permission and was a burglar. He sounded affronted, annoyed, and foolish, especially when he called me a dollymop to the inspector, whose face lost all expression.

  When he finally wound down, Lady Kaldaire refuted his claims in the tones of an empress.

  Finally, Inspector Russell walked over to me. I stood and faced him. “Since Lady Kaldaire vouches for you, there’s no reason for me to take you into custody.”

  “I demand you arrest her. This is my house, and I don’t want her in it,” Lord Kaldaire said, glowering at the inspector.

  The inspector turned his glare from Lord Kaldaire to me. “But if I get called to this house a third time because of you, I will take you in front of a magistrate and charge you with every crime I can think of. Is that clear?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good night, Miss Gates.”

  I curtsied to him and to Lady Kaldaire and left the house.

  * * *

  I spent the next morning putting the finishing touches on hats I’d promised to two members of the Ascot set as well as several I kept in stock for impulse buyers. Leaving Jane to take care of the shop on her own, I spent time in the workshop checking on the repairs to a favorite hat of an elderly customer. This gave me an opportunity to show Annie and the women who helped as trimmers techniques on how to renew fabric using steam, mild soap, alcohol, and gasoline, and which materials needed which method.

  I had Annie pull out the board to dry the lace after it had been cleaned and showed her how to pin the fabric to the heavily padded side of the board.

  Lady Kaldaire sent me a note in the early afternoon to visit at her new residence. On my way out with my sketchbook, I reminded Jane of which customers should be coming into the shop and who needed to pay a deposit or be reminded of their bill.

  Approaching Lady Kaldaire’s new home, I saw the building was in the middle of the block on a quiet street of residences with black wrought-iron railings, black shutters, and dark bricks. At least they wouldn’t show the worst effects of the millions of coal fires burning in London daily.

  The house on the right, the one that Lady Kaldaire said belonged to Prince Maximilian, looked closed up. Lace curtains in every window partially hid the draperies pulled behind them. As I walked along the sidewalk, I looked into the kitchen area down the cement stairwell to the tradesmen’s entrance. There were no curtains in those windows, but I didn’t see any light or signs of life, either.

  If I was going to successfully break into Prince Maximilian’s home, I needed to know how many servants he kept and what their schedules were.

  And then I wondered if I was going to be foolish enough to break into the house of someone who didn’t owe me money.

  Curiosity won out over sensibility. I walked up the stairs to Prince Maximilian’s front door and rang the bell. A tall, thin, rather scary-looking man with a mouthful of prominent teeth and a beak-like nose opened the door. “This isn’t Lady Kaldaire’s, is it?” I asked.

  “No.” The door shut in my face.

  I stood there for a moment, staring at the door. As I turned to leave, the man opened it again and said, “Come in.”

  I wasn’t certain I wanted to. Then Prince Maximilian appeared next to his man. “Please, Miss Gates. Come in.”

  “That’s very kind of you, but I’m looking for Lady Kaldaire’s new residence. I have an appointment with her.” I held up my sketchbook as a sort of explanation.

  “More hats?” He sounded amused.

  “No. She’s asked me to work up some sketches of the interior of her new home.”

  “Ah, yes, I recall. A lady of many talents,” he murmured. “Lady Kaldaire has taken the house next door.” He pointed. “May I escort you over there?”

  “It’s really not necessary, Your Highness.”

  “Please. A simple ‘Prince’ will do. And I enjoy watching a
talent at work. You’d be giving me a treat, Miss Gates.”

  I gave him a smile, wondering what he was up to. “Then of course. Please join us, Prince.”

  He picked up his hat, gloves, and cane from the table inside the door and joined me on the steps. He gave me his arm and we climbed down one set, walked a short distance, and went up the corresponding steps next door.

  At our ring, a maid answered the door. “In here, Emily,” Lady Kaldaire’s voice rang out.

  “I have Prince Maximilian with me,” I replied as I walked toward the open double doors to my left.

  Lady Kaldaire came to the doorway. “Prince, it’s so nice to see you again. To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?”

  “I’m afraid Miss Gates came to my door by accident. I thought I’d come watch her process for sketching interiors of your new home.” Maximilian sounded as if he found this whole charade amusing.

  As if he recognized it for what it was.

  “Please come in. You’re certainly welcome. I can’t even offer you a cup of tea, though,” Lady Kaldaire said as she bustled over to give him both her hands.

  “I don’t need tea, my dear lady. Only the company of two women as lovely and clever as yourselves.” The prince dropped her hands and faced me. “Now, Miss Gates, let’s see what ideas you come up with for this house.”

  I took a deep breath and walked into the bare dining room. At least I hoped it was a dining room. There was a crystal chandelier in the center of the ceiling and a chair rail around the room. “What basic color would you like in a dining room?”

  “Blue. No, gold,” Lady Kaldaire said. “No, blue.”

  “I can combine them,” I told her.

  “Good. Now I think across the hall—”

  “Let’s finish in here first. Do you already have furniture you plan to use in this room?”

  “No. I need to get some, except for the morning room. Most of the furniture in Kaldaire House belongs to the house. Belongs to Laurence now,” she said.

  “What style do you plan to buy? Art Nouveau? Arts and Crafts? Queen Anne? Chippendale?”

  She looked around, appearing a little overwhelmed. “I don’t know. I’ve never had the opportunity to choose before.”

  I wasn’t surprised. The aristocracy kept everything as it was, generation after generation. “Let me pace off the room and do a quick sketch of the floor plan and then we can go across the hall.” I gave her a smile, then set down my sketchpad and paced off the distance from the window to the door, then from the fireplace to the far wall.

  “You have talent,” the prince said. He sounded amazed.

  I glanced over and saw he was looking at the sketch I’d made of the Lady in Blue.

  “I seldom get a chance to practice my drawing skills. I had a chance to do a pencil copy of the painting, and you see the results.”

  Prince Maximilian raised his brows. Did they all learn that skeptical expression in the aristocratic nursery? “You included the dimensions of the painting.”

  Oh, dear. I should have erased that. “It gives me a feel for the proportions. I don’t often get sizes right. That’s the reason I need to measure these rooms. I don’t know how I’m going to get the height of the walls, though.”

  “This floor and the two above it have ten-foot ceilings,” the prince told me. When I looked at him, surprised, he added, “This house is exactly like the one next door where I live. Who knows? When you get done, I may find I have a commission for you, too.”

  Even if this weren’t a ruse, I wouldn’t want to take any employment from him. I’d again caught him looking at me as if he were measuring me for a coffin, a thin smile playing on his lips. I paced across the room in silence.

  “I think perhaps a mahogany, triple-pedestal, claw-and-ball foot table in here. With Queen Anne style chairs,” Lady Kaldaire said.

  I jumped, still aware of the prince’s gaze on me. “Perhaps pastel blue seat cushions to go with pastel blue and gold draperies. Do you have any artwork you want displayed in this room?”

  “The Lady in Blue?” Prince Maximilian asked, barely concealing his smirk.

  “I wouldn’t have it in my house. As it happens, it belongs to Laurence.” Lady Kaldaire strode across the room, tapping her parasol on the bare floor.

  “Carpets?” I asked.

  “I’m sure we’ll find something.”

  I was surprised the prince stayed with us for the entire session, while I asked questions and Lady Kaldaire gave vague answers. If he would have left, I’d have been free to depart for my shop.

  Instead, I remained as I discovered she liked inlaid designs in furniture, comfortable seating, and lots of space in her rooms. “Kaldaire House was always so crowded, with dark, heavy furniture sitting everywhere. I want some light in this house.”

  “Then I doubt you’d like my home, Lady Kaldaire. Lots of heavy, dark furniture. You’d find it oppressive,” the prince said.

  “Nonsense. I’m sure it suits you.”

  “Then perhaps both of you ladies would like to have tea with me today.”

  “Oh, I’m sure you—” I began, thinking how much work waited for me at the shop.

  “We’d love to, wouldn’t we, Emily?” Lady Kaldaire said over my protest.

  Maneuvered once again into doing something I didn’t want to do involving Prince Maximilian, I managed a polite, “Yes, my lady.”

  We’d hit the principal rooms: the dining room, the morning room, the parlor, what Lady Kaldaire called the music room, and her suite of rooms on the second floor. I doubted she needed me for anything else.

  “So come along. We’re done here for the day.” She sent the maid back to Kaldaire House, gave the prince her arm, and the three of us walked next door.

  As soon as I saw the parlor, the word “Teutonic” jumped into my head. An eagle motif was carved into the mantelpiece and a massive cabinet. All the wood was dark. All the upholstered chairs and sofas were large and solid, with dark patterned fabrics. A suit of armor in one corner and a coat of arms over the mantel completed the look.

  Prince Maximilian might be the brother of an English duke, but he’d always be German in my mind. And quite possibly in his own.

  However, the tea his skeletal manservant brought in, a silver service with delicate china cups and saucers and thin sugar biscuits on a small tray, was pure English. Lady Kaldaire served the three of us.

  We went through the usual topics of weather, relatives and other aristocrats, and the arts. When we ground to a halt, Prince Maximilian rose and walked over to the cabinet. “This is a very old piece. Built by a master carpenter to provide several hiding places during periods of religious and political warfare.”

  “You can hide people in that?” I asked in surprise.

  “No, my dear Miss Gates. It is designed to hide papers, letters, documents. Things that might incriminate the author.” He gave me an amused smile. “But you knew that already.”

  I would have if I’d been thinking about something besides work. “Then I’m sure in times past it helped your ancestors avoid embarrassing questions.” And raised a new one. Why was he showing me this?

  The cabinet was the logical place to hide the letter stolen from Lord Kaldaire. Was the prince daring me to break in and find it? But then, how would he know I was searching for it? Who had Lady Kaldaire talked to about the missing letter?

  I set down my teacup and walked over to him. I didn’t have to fake the eagerness I put in my voice when I said, “Show me.”

  Chapter Ten

  “But how can I be sure you’re not a burglar?” I was almost certain Prince Maximilian was laughing at me. His expression and tone made clear he knew what Lady Kaldaire and I were up to.

  “You have documents hidden in there that would start a war?” I tried hard to sound scandalized.

  He did laugh then. “Nothing that would start a war in this day and age, but a man chooses which secrets to keep. This is a good place to keep them.”

 
“I’m sure it is.” I ran my hand over wood that had been polished to smoothness over the years. The top part opened with two doors, the bottom into four large drawers, and all had handles of metal shaped like eagle shields on rings. “May I open the doors and look in?”

  “Of course.”

  I pulled the doors open and looked inside. There were dozens of pigeonholes, some with papers and envelopes inside, and dozens more little drawers. I didn’t see any blank spaces that could hide a secret panel. This would take time to check out.

  Time I didn’t expect to be given. Prince Maximilian was looking at me as if he were sizing me up for a hangman’s noose.

  “What a lovely and unique piece of furniture. I congratulate you on your good fortune to inherit this from your family.” It sounded like something these aristocrats would say.

  “Please, Miss Gates, I expected less stuffiness from you.”

  I gave him a smile. “I think it is incomparable. You are a very lucky man.”

  Lady Kaldaire looked at the abundance of cubbyholes and tiny drawers and said, “I’d have to have directions written down to remember where any of the hiding places were. Otherwise, I’d hide something and forget how to find it again.”

  “I’m sure you don’t give yourself enough credit,” the prince said.

  “I’m sure I do if it’s deserved. I have no talent for anything mechanical. Show me how you open one. One that’s empty, unless you have a fabulous jewel tucked away to admire.” Lady Kaldaire gave him an eager smile.

  Too eager. I could see right away he wouldn’t honor her request. “No, but I might be persuaded to let Miss Gates try to find one.”

  “Oh, do, Emily. You’re so clever, I imagine you could do it.”

  Wonderful. Lady Kaldaire was showing her enthusiasm too clearly, and the prince wore a smile that said he was waiting for me to break in and try to open all the compartments that master carpenters had hidden away centuries ago.

  “I doubt I can, but I’d love to try. How many hidden places are there in this cabinet?”

  “Four, for the four gospels. You may try for a minute if you’d like, Miss Gates.” The challenge in his eyes was unmistakable.