by Kate Parker
I glanced back at the inspector. “Why me?”
“You were first to come upon the crime both times. If I were the killer, I’d wonder what else you’ve discovered. And I wonder why your shop front door has a new windowpane and your shop assistant was attacked.”
I found him staring at me and deliberately held his gaze. His eyes darkened. Something—magnetism, fate, call it what you will—caused our bodies to lean toward each other. I finally said, “I don’t live here.”
“The killer knows where you live. Or did you think that was an unhappy customer who tore apart your shop?”
Fear trickled through my veins as I thought of the mysterious summons the day before. “We can’t just stop living.”
“I have an idea,” Lady Kaldaire said, causing us both to jump. I’d forgotten she was there, since I was busy studying Inspector Russell’s mercurial eyes, solid jaw, and tempting lips.
I had no idea what he was looking at. And I really didn’t need to be studying anything tempting. Not when a Scotland Yard detective thought a killer was watching me.
“Emily, how would you like to spend a few days in the country? It will give you a chance to try your hand at selling hats to lady motorists while we talk to Lady Taylor.”
“I don’t have time to spend in the country. I have a business to run. I can’t go.” Both Lady Kaldaire and the inspector tried to convince me, but my mind was made up. Especially since she’d given me an idea of a new product to sell to lady motorists. Hat veils.
Chapter Sixteen
I spent the rest of the day, when I wasn’t working on current orders, sketching ideas for a new style of veil to protect the hats and faces of female automobile passengers. By that night, I had a workable design.
After dinner and talking over everything that had happened at Kaldaire House with Noah, I went out to the workshop alone to try out my idea with a piece of fine net and different styles of hat frames. I measured how much fabric would be needed to cover the crown and decorations.
Once I cut a piece of net and sewed in a drawstring that would leave enough fabric to cover any crown, I studied the rest of the net. I realized the long tails of net on either side would allow for tying my creation around the neck or under the chin.
I was sewing drawstrings around a half-dozen more veils when I heard a banging on the door to the street. The door was barred, as it was every night. No doubt someone outside could see the lights on in our high windows, but I was not going to answer the door.
The banging stopped. Then I heard the distinctive click of lock picks, a sound I remembered all too well from my games with my grandfather. I sat motionless watching the lock, wishing the burglar would go away. When I heard the snick of the lock releasing, I jumped. Something shoved against the door, but the bar across the doorway held.
Finally, all was silent again. I was about to resume sewing when I realized I hadn’t bolted the alley door behind me. I ran over and tried to slide the bar across the door, but it was stiff. We seldom used the bar on this door, coming and going from the shop across the alley. I pulled as hard as I could and after what felt like hours, moved it into place.
The next moment, something slammed into that door. I took a step back, staring at the entry. When that didn’t work for the burglar, he tried his lock picks again. The door was unlocked, but he couldn’t get in. The bolt stopped him.
Eventually, all was quiet. I sat at the worktable, too shaken to sew. After a short, unproductive time, I gave up. I relocked the street door from inside, slid the bar off the alley door, and walked out carrying the biggest pair of scissors we owned.
No one was there.
After my eyes adjusted to the dark, I locked up the alley door to the workshop, unlocked the shop door, and went in.
I had to cross the storeroom to reach the light switch. Something I did frequently, so I had arranged the space to ensure nothing would be in my way.
I sensed rather than saw something move in the dark. I jumped out of the way and screamed.
Someone shoved me and I lashed out with my scissors. I heard footsteps running down the inside staircase and Noah saying, “Emily? Emily?”
The shadowed figure ran for the door and pulled it open. I ran after him, my scissors again ready. He must have known I was there, because he swung with a solid fist and hit my left shoulder. The pain took my breath away.
I swung around to clutch my shoulder and my scissors connected with something in front of me. The lights came on as Noah raced into the storeroom, Matthew and Annie behind him.
I got a good look at my attacker as he fled out the storeroom door. Big man, maybe thirty, with dark hair. And a long, ugly scar running down his left cheek. He matched the description of the man who’d attacked first Noah and then Jane.
Noah came over and put an arm around me, taking the scissors out of my hand. “Did you cut yourself?”
“No.” I looked. There was blood on the tip and a piece of dark wool fabric stuck in the blades. I had wounded him.
Noah put the bar on the back door and we all went upstairs. Annie was first and had disappeared by the time I reached our flat. “Did you hear anyone in the alley?” I asked Noah.
“Yes. I looked out the window but didn’t see anyone. What is going on?”
“Someone tried to break into the workshop through both doors.”
Matthew couldn’t hear our words, but he sensed our shock and he kept a hand on my arm as if afraid I’d disappear.
“What?” Noah dropped onto a kitchen chair. “We’ve never had any trouble in this neighborhood.”
Not until the first note came in through the shop window. Before the butler was murdered. After I saw that rat-faced man with the new Lord Kaldaire. “When I came into the storeroom, someone was waiting for me. I saw him for an instant when you turned on the light. He looked like Jane’s description of the man who attacked her.”
Noah must have read my thoughts. “Inspector Russell is a sensible man. I think after you report this, you should take up Lady Kaldaire’s offer to go with her until all this blows over and the police make an arrest.”
“You think so?” I’d be leaving Noah to run the business on his own. A heavy burden.
Noah didn’t appear to mind. “Yes. Give the police time to find this killer. I want you safe.”
“You, and Jane, need to be very careful while I’m gone. Matthew and Annie, too.” I’d feel guilty if anyone was injured after I ran away to the countryside with Lady Kaldaire.
He shook his head. “I’m sure they’ll know you’ve left, whoever they are. And I doubt they’ll want to come back after you marked them.”
“Did anyone try to break in through the shop?”
“No, but someone did ring our bell after you’d gone across the alley,” Noah said. “I sent Annie to find out what they wanted.”
Fear flashed through me like lightning. Annie was a timid thing, and we’d not been able to pry anything out of her about her background. If anything happened to her because of this investigation, I’d never forgive myself. “Is she all right?”
“Of course. He wouldn’t leave his name and she didn’t recognize him, so she told him you were out and slammed the door in his face.”
Wherever Annie was before we found her, she’d learned to be cautious. “Where is she?”
We found her shivering, hiding under her bed. I spent the next hour sitting on the floor with her on my lap, assuring her she was safe.
* * *
Two days later, Lady Kaldaire and I alighted from the train in the lovely market town of Rolling Badger to find the Dowager Marchioness of Linchester and a youngish man waiting on the platform for us.
“Marjorie,” Lady Kaldaire said, stepping forward and giving her friend an air-kiss, “thank you so much for meeting our train and putting us up.”
“It’s my pleasure, Roberta. This is my son, Lord George Whitaker. George, will you see to their luggage?”
“Yes, Mama.” Lord George gav
e me a smile and walked off toward the porters.
“George is my younger son. He’s frightfully keen on motor carriages. He’s one of the organizers for this road rally, so we’ll be having lots of company.” Marjorie looked fondly in the direction of her son.
He appeared to be confused by the sheer volume of our luggage. His directions to the porters made it difficult for Lady Kaldaire’s lady’s maid to get any help from the men. Or maybe it was Lady Kaldaire’s arrival with myriad trunks that was causing the commotion. I worried again that she hadn’t been quite truthful when she said we’d only be here for a couple of days. “Perhaps I could help by pointing out which are ours.” I gave the ladies a curtsy and walked over. “My lord, would it be of some help if Lady Kaldaire’s maid and I told the porters what is ours?”
“That would be a tremendous help, Miss—?”
“Gates.” I pointed out our luggage to the increasingly irritated porters. They seemed both annoyed and amazed by the number of trunks and hatboxes we’d brought.
“You’re not Lady Kaldaire’s companion, are you? I mean, that would make things difficult.”
“No, I’m not Lady Kaldaire’s companion. Why do you ask?”
But George’s attention had already drifted to another subject. “Golly, what is all that netting on your hat, Miss Gates?” He sounded like this was a concept that confounded all his brainpower. I hoped his horseless carriage engine had more vigor.
“It’s designed to protect me from the dust and insects while riding in a motorcar,” I said as I finished claiming our luggage. “Could you direct the porters to the baggage wagon?”
I was glad to discover that wasn’t beyond George’s abilities. The maid, Mary, was even happier to find the baggage wagon was horse-drawn and she’d be riding back with the driver. She kept looking at Lord George’s motoring garb and shuddering. Leaving Mary to sort out the luggage, I went back to the two ladies.
The dowager marchioness was explaining some program to Lady Kaldaire. “They go out at different times and drive the same route. There are stops en route, at various homes and public houses, where they sign in and the time is noted. And everyone should travel no faster than the legal speed limit of twelve miles per hour.”
“How is this a challenge?” Lady Kaldaire asked. “Would they want to go faster?”
“Well, my dear, all these young men do. But the problem is the motorcars are always breaking down and getting punctures in their tires. And every day, it’s a different route with different stops. Cars breaking down. Drivers getting lost. It’s total chaos.” Lady Linchester sounded completely exhausted from all the commotion.
“If they all leave at different times, how can they know who won?” Lady Kaldaire persisted.
Marjorie, Lady Linchester, looked uncertain. “It has to do with how much time it takes to get from one point to the next. They have a marking system to determine the winner each day.”
“It sounds wonderfully exciting,” I said. I came to sell veils to be used for motoring, so I felt obligated to be enthusiastic. And as long as my uncle Thomas wasn’t driving, it would probably be safe.
“Are you keen on motors, Miss Gates?” George asked, coming up next to me.
“I don’t know. I’ve only ridden in omnibuses in London.”
“Oh, good. You can ride back to the house in my car. Find out how much fun it is. Mummy?”
“Of course.” She turned to Lady Kaldaire. “It’s really quite simple, Roberta. You just close your eyes and pray.”
Lady Kaldaire glanced from Lady Linchester to her son, clearly unimpressed. “I think I can handle that.”
“Oh, good.” George signaled the wagon driver to take our cases to the house and then helped us into the car. I was given the front seat next to him.
“Lady Linchester,” I said when I was seated, “I have a veil for you. Just like Lady Kaldaire’s and mine.” I took off my veil to demonstrate. “You set the veil over your hat like this, with the band around the crown. Then you pull the netting over your face and hair.”
I showed her and then said, “You take the two ends of the sash around the bottom of the veil, circle your neck, and tie the fabric under your chin in a bow. And there you have it.”
Lady Kaldaire had experimented with hers on the train and only needed to lower her veil and find the two ends of the narrow sash and tie them. Lady Linchester needed both of us to help her, but we finally had her secured and ready.
“Roberta, you are so smart not to wear a widow’s veil. It wouldn’t keep the dust out of your face and those long ends might snag in a tree branch,” Lady Linchester said.
“Yes, I am rather pleased with Emily’s hats.” She gave me a smile.
“Well, you ladies look ready for the rally. Shall we go?” George had been cranking the engine while we’d prepared our hats for the dusty ride and we started off with a jerk.
I gasped. I was used to omnibuses and trains, but I’d never sat so close to the front of the vehicle. The macadamized road was rushing toward us and disappearing under the bonnet, taking my breath with it. A great wind blew in my face. I pressed my back into the seat to put a little more distance between me and the world galloping straight at us.
“Jolly fun, isn’t it?” he shouted over the noise of the motor.
I thought the contraption would shake us to pieces when we took off on a rutted dirt road after we’d left the village behind. Fence posts raced past on either side of us. This was faster than the omnibuses could drive along the crowded streets of London.
“I bet you could really speed on paved roads. Do you have any of those outside of towns?” I shouted back. We were sending a dust cloud behind us, but with the veil, I wasn’t having any difficulties with dirt or bugs in my eyes or mouth.
A tap on my shoulder made me turn to see Lady Kaldaire shake her head, her eyes shut. Apparently, she’d heard my comment about speed and didn’t want me to suggest anything so horrifying.
Lord George, staring straight ahead with a tight grip on the steering wheel and the gear lever, didn’t notice. “We’ve designed the rallies so a part of each day is driven on hard surface. Are you having fun?”
“Yes. Very much so. Thank you.” The air rushing past me became exhilarating as I grew used to it. Since we weren’t enclosed like we were in a train carriage, the speed made my heart pound. I could see why people called it wicked and dangerous, but it was also adventurous and joyous.
I felt that with the next bump, I might fly out of my seat. My hands gripped the leather cushion on either side of my skirt in hopes I would stay put. I couldn’t take my eyes off the road as the engine seemed to gobble up the terrain. As a city girl, I could only guess horseback riding at a gallop must be as exciting.
I glanced back at the two older ladies. They both had their eyes shut and their lips moving. “Are the veils protecting you from dust and insects?” I called back at them.
Lady Kaldaire opened her eyes in a squint. After a moment, she opened them fully. “Yes.” We hit a bump and her eyes snapped shut again.
“Are you speeding again, George?” Lady Linchester asked without opening her eyes.
“No, Mama,” he said and then gave me a big grin that let me know he was lying. “Let me open it up the whole way so you can see what she can do.”
“No,” came in two wails from the back seat, but George had already shifted, and the automobile roared down the lane. Birds flew away and large animals began to stampede in the fields, but I found the ride thrilling.
Too bad the noise, the jolts, and the choking exhaust smells were giving me a headache.
The engine made a grinding noise as we slowed and turned onto a long drive heading toward a magnificent house. Georgian, I guessed, with great wings on each side. What caught my attention were the horseless carriages in the forecourt.
“Are you having a lot of the drivers staying here?” I shouted. Even though our speed had slowed, the engine noise prevented normal conversation.
“Oh, my. We’re here,” Lady Linchester said, opening her eyes. “Yes, we’re having a few here. Others are staying with friends in the area or in the village at the pub.”
“The Taylors live near here, don’t they?” Lady Kaldaire asked after taking a deep breath. She seemed pleased to have arrived.
“Yes. Just over that way about a mile. Taylor is racing his new motor, too,” George said as he gestured vaguely in my direction. Then he had to grab one of the controls again as the vehicle started to buck like an angry horse.
Settling down, the contraption delivered us safely to the front steps. Several men in overalls looked up from various automobile bonnets as we drove in but, disinterested, went back to work.
I climbed unaided from the vehicle, but the ladies needed the help of George and the butler. Once inside, Lady Kaldaire and I slipped off our veils, but Lady Linchester was still fighting with hers when a plain young woman with brown hair and lovely brown eyes came into the hall. She joined in the confusion that seemed to wrap itself around the older lady and we soon had her separated from the veil.
“Oh, Deborah, there you are,” Lady Linchester said. “The current Marchioness of Linchester, this is Lady Kaldaire and Miss Gates.”
“I wish you wouldn’t put current in front of my title. It makes it sound like James has me here on trial,” the younger Lady Linchester said to her mother-in-law with a shake of her head.
The dowager barely slowed down. “I invited them since they’re having a bit of trouble with people getting murdered at Kaldaire House. The police think they’ll be next.”
What had Lady Kaldaire written her? My stomach felt like we’d just hit another bump in Lord George’s motorcar.
Chapter Seventeen
“How do you do? I’m sure you’ll be perfectly safe here,” Deborah, Lady Linchester, assured us.
We exchanged curtsies.
“Miss Gates has invented this contraption for riding in that horrible horseless machine of George’s,” the dowager said, holding up the veil. “It almost makes it palatable.”
