by Kate Parker
His cold smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Perhaps.”
Did he mean he didn’t have to worry, or he couldn’t remove King Edward VII from the throne? I watched him, wondering what he’d decide. And again wondering if I would manage to get out of there alive if I walked away.
His expression was grave. “Go back to Lady Kaldaire and tell her I will not give her the letter.”
I stood there, amazement making me slow.
“Go. Now.”
Freed, I rushed out of the front of his house, down the pavement, and up to Lady Kaldaire’s door, all the time hoping my family and the police saw my exit. My frantic hammering brought her footman, Lyle, to open the door. “Oh, it’s you, Miss Emily. Her ladyship isn’t home yet.”
“May I come in and leave her a note?”
“Of course.” As I stepped into the light of the hall, Lyle said, “Are you all right? You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”
I’d almost been turned into one, but I didn’t need to explain that to the servant. “There should be paper and ink in the morning room.” I headed in that direction.
I hadn’t finished composing my note when I heard the bell and then the voices of Lady Kaldaire and Lyle. I walked into the hall, holding the half-finished note in my hand.
“Emily,” her ladyship said as she took off her wrap. “Did you have a successful evening?”
“We need to talk.”
“Lyle, I’d like tea for two in the morning room. And perhaps some of Cook’s biscuits.” Lady Kaldaire walked toward me, pulling a long hatpin out of her favorite mourning hat.
Remembering my recent experience facing Prince Maximilian’s pistol and the murder of Mr. Pruitt, I jumped back at the sight of Lady Kaldaire’s hatpin.
“Really. Emily. If I were going to use a hatpin on you, I’d have done it long before now. Besides, you’re too valuable.”
“No, I’m not. I opened all the hidden drawers, but the letter you want was in Prince Maximilian’s pocket. He was waiting for me. With a pistol.”
“Really.” She turned around, marched past Lyle as he quickly opened the front door again, and continued down the steps.
I raced after her and caught up to her on the pavement. “You don’t want to challenge the prince about this. He’s not the killer.”
“I’m not going to challenge him, Emily.” She continued her stately march to his front door where she ran the bell.
Maximilian opened the door. “As you know, my servants are all out this evening, so you will have to do with my humble welcome.”
“I’m not here for your welcome, Prince. I want to see the letter that my husband put in the safe.”
Lady Kaldaire and Prince Maximilian stared at each other for a long time. Neither blinked.
A skill I’d like to learn.
“I have no intention of bargaining with you, dear lady.”
“Every man has his price.”
“Not this time.” Maximilian sounded certain. Of course, he had the letter.
“Stealing a letter from a dying man. That was not kind.” Queen Alexandra couldn’t have delivered those words with more regal disdain.
“My apologies, dear lady.”
“Tell her about the other two people who entered Kaldaire House that night,” I said.
She must have picked up on my eagerness, because she said, “Two other people? Who were they?”
“I don’t know.”
Her voice turned icy. “Prince, if you would, please tell us about your visit with my husband on the night he died.”
“Not tonight, and not on the doorstep.”
“Of course. Forgive me. Perhaps you will come for tea tomorrow and we can discuss this. I have some other questions I’d like to put to you.”
“I am at your service,” the prince said.
We exchanged bows and curtsies before Lady Kaldaire turned and marched down his steps and up her own. I was impressed that she could walk that distance with that much vigor without knocking her unpinned hat loose.
Obviously, she had a very good milliner.
As I left for home, I gave the area a discreet glance, but I didn’t spot any of my relatives or a constable. They must have thought the danger was over.
I hoped they stuck around long enough to listen to the information Prince Maximilian shared.
Chapter Twenty-seven
I had nearly reached the omnibus route when a pleasant male voice behind me said, “The prince apparently told you everything he knew. We should have you teach us interrogation techniques.”
I jumped when he first spoke, but as I turned and looked at Inspector Russell, my heartbeat sped rather than slowed. “What are you doing here?”
“Seeing you get home safely.”
“That’s kind of you, but I’ll be fine.”
He smiled and took my arm. “I don’t want to risk such a valuable property.”
Now he’d made me angry. “Do you mean like a carriage horse? Or perhaps my workshop?”
“Don’t be daft. Gregson was killed for what he knew. Now you’ve demonstrated to all and sundry on the street tonight that you’re learning his secrets.”
I thought of our talk on the doorstep where anyone could have overheard us and shivered, despite the warmth of the evening.
We took an omnibus, this one motorized, toward my home. After we sat, I asked, “Are you a Londoner by birth?”
“No. Outside Cambridge. My father was a country vicar.”
“A vicar?” My surprise leaped out of my voice.
“Is it that hard to believe? Have I become so heavy-handed that I must be a Londoner?”
“It’s hard to picture a detective inspector being the son of a vicar.” I thought all offspring of vicars were pale, soft creatures. Inspector Russell was sharp, hard, and bright. There was more to him than I expected and I found him fascinating.
“Why? Because my upbringing gave me an education and a polish that most members of the constabulary don’t possess?”
“Is that why you’re a detective inspector?”
He grinned. “In part.”
“In part? What other attributes do you have?”
His grin widened. “Perhaps you’ll find out.”
Neither of us spoke during the rest of the journey, but we sat squeezed together on the seat. It wasn’t until we’d alighted and nearly reached my door that I said, “Lady Kaldaire has invited Prince Maximilian over for tea tomorrow. Do you want me to tell you anything I learn?”
“Yes. Don’t worry. I’ll appear sometime after tea.”
As I opened my door, he doffed his bowler and walked off into the night.
* * *
I arrived at Lady Kaldaire’s new house after a full day of work to find the prince sitting in her unfinished parlor with her, both of them drinking tea.
After she called for another cup for me, she said, “Now that Emily is here, tell us about your visit to Kaldaire House the night of Horace’s death.”
“My first visit concerned a difference of opinion on the House of Saxe-Coburg-Gotha expressed in your husband’s letter to a scholarly journal. Actually, that reason was a ruse. I was familiarizing myself with the study for a later visit.”
“To what purpose?” Lady Kaldaire asked.
A sardonic smile hovered on his lips. “To steal the letter you sent Miss Gates to steal back from me yesterday.”
“And since you’re not such a fool as my husband, you took precautions to safeguard it.”
He gave her one assured nod.
“How did you reenter the house?”
“The front door was unlocked. I simply waited a minute and let myself back inside.”
“At least you didn’t use the breakfast room doors. That seems to be the popular route.” She glared at me.
“Before you ask, I did not see your husband’s killer,” the prince said. “When I returned to the study, he’d already been struck down and the safe opened. I took the letter and made certain the r
oom was empty except for the two of us. I then had to hide in the shadows when Miss Gates arrived.”
“Didn’t his killer pass you on the front steps?”
“No. While two different sets of footsteps left, I was hiding in your dining room.” He gave her a hint of a bow. “I beg your pardon for using the room for such an inappropriate purpose.”
“My,” Lady Kaldaire replied in a sarcastic tone, “the house was simply swarming with visitors that night.”
This conversation was bizarre. The evening before, the prince had pointed a gun at my chest and threatened to use it. Now he was apologizing for hiding inside the Kaldaire House dining room uninvited. I was grateful that the prince was clearing my name with Lady Kaldaire, but I wished our earlier conversation had been less frightening.
I might as well get as much information as I could to bring to Inspector Russell’s attention.
“Prince Maximilian told me he heard a third set of footsteps follow whoever left by the front door. This third set of footsteps went to the front of the house but didn’t go outside. Gregson, perhaps?” I said.
“That would explain how he could have blackmailed the killer. And in turn been murdered.” Lady Kaldaire looked from one of us to the other. “As we had already guessed, someone entered the house between the prince’s official visit and Emily’s unofficial arrival. Someone who was seen by Gregson.”
“But who was it?” I knew Lady Kaldaire wouldn’t release me from my job as her investigator until we discovered the killer’s identity. “You heard two visitors come out of Lord Kaldaire’s study? Two visitors who arrived together but left separately?”
“They left separately. I don’t know if they arrived together or not. I never saw either of them.” The prince gave me a small shrug.
“You didn’t look out a window? The dining room overlooks the street.” I was amazed the prince didn’t display more curiosity. I’d have had my nose pressed to the windowpane.
“It wasn’t until I saw Lord Kaldaire that I realized I should have made an effort to learn their identities.” He sounded annoyed with himself.
“So it’s possible they came in the unlocked front door and hid while you were in the study the first time on your official visit. Then they went into the study unannounced during the short time you were outside.” I was trying to account for all the activity before I arrived at Kaldaire House.
“People seemed to have slipped by Gregson on a regular basis.” Roberta, Lady Kaldaire sounded irritated. “Doesn’t anyone ring the bell anymore?”
Then she said, “Leaving that matter aside, I believe you’re acquainted with Lord Wyatt.”
“Yes. I know the family quite well,” he said.
Oh, wonderful. Now her ladyship was going to start trying to solve Jeremiah Pruitt’s murder, no doubt using me as her sleuth. I was tempted to get up and leave.
She ignored my dismay and raised an eyebrow at the prince. “I think the family was not happy with Miss Annabelle’s choice of male companions.”
He laughed. I was surprised at the spontaneous, amused sound that rumbled from deep inside him, and it stopped any thought of my leaving. “That is putting it mildly. I thought Isaiah, Lord Wyatt, would murder young Mr. Pruitt. Not that any father would blame him. He was a nasty piece of work.”
“Did they ever come to blows?” I asked.
“Nearly, once or twice. Mr. Pruitt had quite a reputation for gambling. He owed money all over town, and his family was on the point of cutting him off from further funds. Rumor said one of the stipulations for more funds was that he marry respectably.”
He stretched his long legs and made himself more comfortable. “There was another young lady he also paid court to, but her family wisely turned him away. Probably something to do with a child born to one of the former Pruitt servants. The maid caused a scene at the worst possible moment, forcing the family to buy her off. It was all hushed up, of course.”
“Not a young man of good reputation,” Lady Kaldaire said.
“Even worse after he and another young man showed up at a ball, having imbibed too much beforehand, and embarrassed themselves, their parents, and several young ladies.” The prince’s tone made clear his low opinion of the murdered man.
“And yet Lady Wyatt considered allowing her daughter wear mourning for the idiot.” It seemed odd to me.
“Miss Annabelle is an only daughter. Lady Wyatt always gives in to her in the end.” His tone said he didn’t think much of the two women, either.
“Dear me. No wonder the girl is the way she is.” Lady Kaldaire picked up the teapot. “Would anyone like some more?”
I quickly held my cup out. “How serious was Miss Annabelle about Mr. Pruitt?”
“Far too serious. The family feared she planned to elope with the fellow. I heard Lord Wyatt threaten his life at our club.”
“What was Mr. Pruitt’s reaction?”
“He wasn’t there. You don’t think the Imperial would allow someone like Pruitt in? He’d be blackballed in an instant.”
“So who was Lord Wyatt talking to when he threatened Mr. Pruitt’s life?” I knew I shouldn’t have asked as soon as I saw Lady Kaldaire’s eyes light up. She wanted to get me involved in solving Pruitt’s murder, and now I found myself helping her toward her goal.
Curiosity was the bane of my life. I’d never get home tonight if I kept helping Lady Kaldaire with her ever-expanding investigation.
“He was talking to a group of members who were all agreeing the young man should be horsewhipped. With them was a man with a dangerous reputation who comes to the club sometimes as a guest of the new Lord Kaldaire.”
“Laurence brings men of low repute to the Imperial? I can imagine what Horace would have said about that.” Lady Kaldaire nearly overfilled my cup as her gaze flew to the prince.
I carefully lifted my cup to my lips and sipped off the excess before setting it down and asking, “Does this shady man have a name?”
“Of course he does,” the prince said with a hint of a smile.
I stared at him, eyebrows raised.
“Denby. Jonathan Denby. He’s a gambler who’s rumored to have ties to nefarious characters. Criminals. And for this or for some other reason, he frightens a few members of the club. I suspect he’s a blackmailer, although I have no proof. No one has actually said so.”
I couldn’t resist saying, “Really. Members of the Imperial Club leaving themselves open to blackmail like ordinary mortals.”
“Emily.” Lady Kaldaire looked askance at me.
I thought it worth asking her, “Have you ever met Jonathan Denby through the new Lord Kaldaire?”
“I believe Laurence called a man Denby when he greeted him in the front hall of Kaldaire House. We haven’t been introduced. I must say I didn’t care for him.”
“Did anyone mention a reason for him to be there?” There might have been a perfectly harmless reason for this man to be there. At least, I hoped there was.
“No, but then, Laurence has never shown any interest in explaining himself about anything.”
I turned to the prince. “Is it possible Jonathan Denby was the person Your Highness heard that night? The late Lord Kaldaire was apparently short of cash. Could they have argued and Mr. Denby attacked him?” It made as much sense as any other theory we’d concocted.
“What would they have argued about?” Lady Kaldaire asked. Now that she knew Prince Maximilian hadn’t killed her husband, she was trying to find another villain.
“Perhaps someone at the Imperial Club knows.” I looked at the prince, hoping he would volunteer.
“No, Miss Gates. I’ve assured you of my innocence in Lord Kaldaire’s death, and I have the letter I wanted. I’m finished with this business, but I wish you ladies luck in finding the killer.” He rose, bowed to us, and walked out of the room.
We heard Lyle say good-bye to the prince as he shut the door behind him.
“Emily, how will we find out more about Mr. Denby and his
connections to Laurence and to Lord Wyatt?”
From the expression on Lady Kaldaire’s face, I knew she was giving me another assignment. One I couldn’t turn down if I wanted my newly won truce with Inspector Russell to last and Matthew to finally go to school.
I left there as quickly as I could and went to my grandparents’ house. My grandmother blocked the door as she greeted me with, “What are you doing here?”
“I want to talk to Grandpapa.”
“Stop using him for your silly errands for that lady. He’s too good a person for you to use him when you need him and then toss him away like rubbish when this family embarrasses you and your respectability.”
“I’d never treat Grandpapa that way. He’s not like some people around here who make it clear they don’t want me around. Me or Matthew. You’ve never invited us for dinner once since Mama died. Our cousins are over here all the time.” I couldn’t keep the hurt out of my voice.
“They know they don’t need an invitation like some grand lords and ladies.” Her arms were crossed over her narrow bosom as she glared at me.
“But we do, Gran. We know you don’t want us around. We remind you too much of Mama. And you called Matthew stupid.” Tears formed in my eyes. I was tired from a full day of work and hurt and angry from years of deflecting my grandmother’s fury.
“He is stupid.”
Every muscle in my body tensed and I saw red. She defended stupid Petey. Why not loyal, trustworthy Matthew?
Chapter Twenty-eight
“He’s not stupid. He’s as clever as the rest of your grandsons. Smarter than dumb old Petey. But he’s deaf.” I didn’t care that I was shouting at my grandmother. I was about to turn and run when Grandpapa came to the door.
“Go make tea, Aggie,” he said in a soft voice. “Come in, pet. How did you do last night?”
I sniffed and swiped at my eyes with my gloved fingers. “I learned some things, but now I’m left with a bigger puzzle.”
“Come in to the dining room and tell me about it.”
We sat across a corner of the big wooden table from each other. “First of all, thank you and Cousin Will and whoever else watched out for me last night. I was very glad someone was looking out for me when he aimed a pistol at me.”
