The Violet Carlyle Mysteries Boxset 1

by Beth Byers

  Hargreaves returned and said, “Sir, I didn’t leave my post once. Not once.”

  “You didn’t have to,” Jack said. “We didn’t think of the window. We should have. We assumed the killer wouldn’t know it was a trap.”

  “But I did remember the window, sir. I checked the locks on it just last night. Those are sturdy locks. We replaced them only a year ago when a few of the larger houses were broken into.”

  “Then the killer had planned this well enough to wait for you to check them, unlock it, and slide in while we were watching the wrong damn door.”

  Violet stared at Hargreaves. How many times had she and Victor snuck down to the kitchens for biscuits and been caught by Hargreaves as he was fixing the locks. She was sure the rest of the cousins would know the same. Of course they would.

  “That was your trick, wasn’t it? As children, you two would wait until Hargreaves checked the locks and then sneak out for your…escapades.” Meredith insinuated. Her gaze was fixed on Violet as though she had been the one who would have killed Aunt Agatha.

  “As children,” Victor said, the muscle in his jaw flexing.

  “You were terrible children,” Meredith said. “You are, no doubt, terrible adults.”

  “Enough,” Jack told Meredith. “You will go to the parlor or your bedroom until I need to speak with you. I will follow the evidence and we will find the killer with proof and deduction. Not with random accusations based off of behavior from a decade ago.”

  Violet slowly turned to him and asked one more time, “She’s really gone?”

  “She is,” Jack said gently.

  He didn’t need to tell her to go to her room. She fled there, blindly, with tears rolling down her cheeks.

  Chapter 19

  Perhaps if Uncle Kingsley had less motive, he’d have tried to pull out the power of classes. Jack Wakefield wouldn’t have succumbed as easily as any other detective. He was of their class. He might not have an earl for a father, but his father was connected to the landed families with a fortune behind him and membership in the right clubs—antiquated though they were.

  That might be unfair to Scotland Yard detectives, however—maybe none of them would give way in the face of threats. Not in this day, and this age. But in another house, at another time, it would have gone that way. Especially with another investigator. It helped rather a lot that Jack Wakefield was a well-connected man who’d learn to investigate during the war and then chosen to join Scotland Yard later because of his skills rather than a need for money. Men like Uncle Kingsley, Algernon, and even Victor would have fallen back on their money rather than work.

  Victor followed Violet to her bedroom and then entered after her.

  “I’m not leaving you alone, luv,” he said when she told him to leave.

  “I just need…”

  “No,” he said firmly. “No. One of our cousins or perhaps Uncle Kingsley murdered Aunt Agatha. You are with me, Lila, or Denny until the killer is caught. Not even Gwennie. She’s too…passive.”

  “Vic…”

  “Violet, we’ve lost Mama, Peter, Lionel, Baby Iris, and now Aunt Agatha. I can survive with all of that, but I’ll be damned if I lose my twin to some animal who wants a larger inheritance.”

  “Then you will do the same? You’ll stay with someone?”

  “I am a man,” he said.

  “And if the killer has a gun? Or if it’s Algernon who has five stone on you?”

  Victor smirked and then said, “You know that’s all baby blubber.”

  Violet laughed through her tears and then curled up on her bed. She wanted her aunt. She wanted to curl up in Aunt Agatha’s lap, just as Violet had done when they’d heard word that Peter had gone down only three weeks into his service as a pilot during the war. She wanted to feel Aunt Agatha’s fingers running through her hair as she talked about the next life and the peace of heaven. Of what a good brother he’d been. Only this time she’d have to talk about those things by herself.

  Violet imagined her aunt’s voice. All is well, darling. I’ve missed Henry so. Now I am with him. With my mama and yours. In a better place. At peace.

  What a loving aunt Agatha had been…how generous with the little motherless twins despite how naughty they’d been. A sob escaped Violet, and her brother climbed onto the bed next to her. He placed a hand on her shoulder while she cried. He wasn’t Aunt Agatha. He didn’t know she needed more than a hand. She needed whispered assurance and the promise of better things to come.

  The journey from tears to sleep happened so seamlessly she wasn’t aware of it until someone knocked on the bedroom door. She started and Victor pushed himself from the bed, crossing to open it. On the other side, a white-faced, red-eyed Beatrice whispered. Victor nodded and Violet closed her eyes again. She didn’t care why they were at the door or what they wanted.

  A few minutes later, Victor said, “Mr. Coates and Jack have decided that they will read the will now. Both the old one and the one Aunt Agatha never got to enact. They want our presence.”

  Violet slowly sat up. She winced. She’d forgotten how it hurt to lose someone. How the pain traveled from your heart to your extremities, and your very muscles seemed to protest the loss.

  “They need you too, luv. Mr. Coates said that all the main recipients need to present.”

  “So all of us, then?”

  Victor shrugged and admitted, “I have no idea. Just that Beatrice was sent for both of us.”

  Violet crossed to the bath and washed her face. She didn’t care so much about her looks, but the splash of water on her face helped her to wake up. She ran a brush through her hair more out of habit than anything else. As she glanced at herself in the mirror, the powder blue dress she was wearing seemed so very inappropriate. She exited the bath, saw Victor, and then crossed to grab a grey dress with long sleeves.

  It seemed the best choice given what had happened. Her red number or that champagne gown mocked the loss she’d suffered. Violet changed in the bathroom, slipped on her shoes, and let Victor lead her downstairs. She knew her brain was on hiatus. She felt rather like she’d stepped into a cloud and couldn't get out of it.

  “I…I need coffee,” she told Victor. “I can’t think.”

  He nodded and took her to the kitchen where she gulped some coffee and then met the others in the library. There were two chairs near the fire for Jack and Mr. Coates. Several others were circled in front of them. Jack held a notebook and a uniformed constable was in the room with another notebook.

  Victor seated Violet in a chair to the side and glanced around. It seemed that everyone else had beat them to the room. Meredith was stone faced and calm. John Davies was seated with his gaze fixed on the floor, jaw clenching. Hargreaves and Mrs. Daniels stood at the back of the room, while Algernon and his father were seated at the forefront of the room directly in front of the lawyer.

  There was another chair, for Victor, across the room, but he stood next to Violet with his hand on her shoulder. A moment later, Hargreaves moved the chair next to Violet and Victor nodded his thanks.

  “Well…” Mr. Coates said. His face was white and he cleared his throat. “My purpose here today was to change Mrs. Davies’s will. However, her death happened before changes could be made making her most recent will the one in effect. This will is dated the first of July, 1922.”

  No one said a word, but several bodies shifted in their seats. Violet didn’t look to see who was moving about. If only Aunt Agatha had just gone to the Amalfi coast. Christmas in Italy would have been lovely. The sun would have shone down on her aunt’s white hair, and she might have become terrifically brown.

  “I will now read the will which was written by Agatha Margaret Davies and witnessed by myself, Hargreaves, and my clerk, John Hammond.”

  “My darlings,” it started and Violet could almost hear her aunt’s voice instead of Mr. Coates.

  “My late husband, Henry, and I once set about in a game. It was, you see, to create a fortune to han
d over to our children. When we weren’t blessed with our own young ones before I lost dear Henry, I determined to stay the course of our game. Since then, I worked on increasing my fortune as a gift for one of you. I was never not looking for the best recipient. Perhaps Henry’s nephew? Perhaps Algernon? Perhaps young Victor who wasn’t anyone’s main heir? Perhaps I would choose instead one of my nieces. After all, of all women, I knew that a woman was as capable as a man in learning to manage and grow a gift such as the one I was creating.

  “In order to determine the best recipient, I made a list of things that I would like to see my children—you—do. I wanted to see you educated. Not just at the university but in life. I have given each of you the chance for an education. Only Victor and Violet took advantage of that offer and graduated. Algernon, your performance at school was dismal. John, of course I excuse you in the service of our country.”

  Violet sniffled into a handkerchief.

  “I have loved each of you, but as I grew this fortune, I wanted to see that I could turn it over to good stewards. Those who would protect and grow it for the next generation. To transform my gift to a legacy.”

  Violet lifted a shaking hand to her lips, remembering those times when Aunt Agatha had seen to that very education she was speaking of beyond the grave. Or beyond wherever they’d placed Agatha’s body. Violet felt a tear slip down her face and ignored it. This moment seemed to be the last time she’d ever hear her aunt’s voice even if it came through Mr. Coates.

  “Each of you knows now, looking back, how you fared in that education. I, Agatha Davies, being of sound mind and memory, do hereby declare this to be my last will and testament, thereby revoking and making void any and all other last will and testaments made by me.”

  “To my brothers, Kingsley and Cecil, I leave nothing but my love, such as it is.”

  Uncle Kingsley swore and Mr. Coates stated, “That is quite enough.”

  To Violet’s shock, her uncle didn’t snap back.

  “To my beloved nephew, John Davies, I leave thirty thousand pounds, the home purchased by his Uncle Henry, as well as the personal library and effects of my late-husband, John Henry Davies.”

  Uncle Kingsley shifted enough that Violet could see his fingers twitch. She was sure he was calculating in head what Algernon might inherit. Did Kingsley know the value of Agatha’s estate? Violet didn’t. Victor didn’t. She wanted to shout at Kingsley that he was taking Agatha’s voice from her head, but she said nothing.

  “To my beloved nephew, Algernon. You are both a joy and a disappointment.”

  Algernon said nothing, but he did squeak.

  “You have not graduated from university, you have not worked, you did not take the opportunity I presented for either a job or to learn how to manage my money; however,” Mr. Coates paused and Algernon leaned forward.

  Violet clutched her fingers together to hide their shaking.

  “You have always been kind. I have seen endless acts of generosity even when you were hard-up yourself. You are, my boy, deplorable with money. Therefore, I leave you a trust of twenty-thousand pounds and access to the interest. Care of that trust will be seen to by Coates, Coates, and Landon.”

  Uncle Kingsley cursed again. Aunt Agatha left to each of Algernon’s siblings, three thousand pounds each when they turned twenty-five and an education if they desired to pursue it.

  “To my niece-in-law, Helen Allyn, I leave a house purchased for you in Surrey.”

  Uncle Kingsley’s eyes closed and he breathed deeply when his wife received. Violet’s face turned towards him, and she could swear she saw relief in his face.

  “To my niece Gertrude, who has transformed her sister into a servant, I leave nothing.”

  “To my niece, Meredith, I leave the interest of 10,000 pounds and access to the full funds on her thirty-fifth birthday.”

  Meredith gasped but said nothing. Was it the lesser amount of money that bothered her?

  “To my beloved nephew, Victor, you did not pursue an education either at the university or with me with any measure of vigor. However, you learned enough to get by. You used your greater inheritance to provide your twin, Violet, with freedom that many other young men would not have. You always protected her and loved her with the same feeling you extended to myself.”

  Victor’s arm was wrapped around Violet’s shoulders, and she could feel his tension and then a slight relaxing as Aunt Agatha’s approval was announced.

  “I leave you, Victor Carlyle, one-half of the remainder of my fortune, my house in London, and my endless love.”

  Victor squeezed Violet’s shoulder but said nothing. How much was what? Violet didn’t think either of them really knew. Uncle Kingsley wasn’t all that happy to hear what Victor had received. Because he excelled where Algernon failed?

  “And my beloved, Violet Carlyle. I suppose favoritism is both unfair and inevitable. But of my nieces and nephews, it was only you who read the reports and learned from me. To you, I leave the remainder of my funds, possessions, and homes. This inheritance includes the apartment in Paris, the house in the Lake Country, and the villas in Italy and France. I leave my jewelry and art collections as well as all remaining sundries and business interests. I enfold into your care my beloved Theodore Hargreaves and Juliette Daniels. I know you will see to them well, though to each of them, I leave 500 pounds. To my reliable cook, I leave 200 pounds. To each of the remaining servants on my staff, I leave 20 pounds.”

  Mr. Coates cleared his throat and then said, “To each of you there is also a letter. Smaller items have been left to a few friends, but this is the will in bulk.”

  Violet’s hands were shaking as Uncle Kingsley turned on her.

  “Did you know?”

  “Know what?” Victor asked, stepping in front of her.

  “Know that Agatha was playing some training game as though a few reports on coffee beans or manufacturing in Leeds will pass on the golden touch. Agatha was…was…just blessed.”

  Violet didn’t bother to answer.

  “Twenty thousand pounds for Algernon and a house for your wife is nothing to sneeze at,” Victor told Kingsley.

  “And what did she leave me? Not a damned thing!”

  “You probably should have treated her better,” Algie said, “if you wanted her money.”

  “What’s that, boy?” Kingsley turned on his son, fists clenched, but Algernon slowly stood.

  “You told me to ignore Agatha’s report. You told me that she was a fool woman. You told me that a degree from the university was worthless beyond connections. You were the one who introduced me to Theodophilus and gambling.”

  Victor squeezed Violet’s hand. She slowly, quietly asked, “What did the new will say? The one that would have changed things?”

  “That’s an interesting thing,” Mr. Coates said. “She split the money evenly between the five of you, agreed to pay off Mr. Kingsley Allyn’s debts. It still favored you some, as she still left you the jewelry and art as well as control of her company.”

  “Excuse me?” Meredith asked.

  “There weren’t any delays on the funds either. After death duties, you’d all have been able to do as you wished with the funds.”

  Uncle Kingsley laughed at that. A hysterical laugh that prodded Violet out of her chair, up the stairs, and into her bedroom. She slammed her bedroom door, locked it, and then turned to face her bed.

  Her aunt had been murdered, Violet had inherited a rather vast amount of money. She’d never have to write another story again and all of the sudden, she wanted nothing more than to destroy a villain on the pages of her manuscript and slide back into the time when her aunt yet lived.

  Chapter 20

  Lila and Gwennie knocked on the bedroom door while Violet lay curled onto her side. She answered the door and her friends were accompanied by Beatrice with a tray of sandwiches and another housemaid who held a tray with coffee, biscuits, and fruit.

  “You have to eat,” Lila said. She glanced around
the room and said to Beatrice, “Would you mind terribly straightening her room? Violet can’t stand it when things aren’t just so.”

  Beatrice nodded and started cleaning while Lila poured Violet a cup of coffee, added a stiff shot of whiskey from a flask tucked under her arm, and then placed a plate of sandwiches in her lap.

  “You have to eat,” Lila told Violet firmly.

  Violet blinked her friend’s way and shrugged.

  “If you don’t eat, I’ll call for Victor.”

  Violet stared and then slowly lifted the sandwich and took a bite. She tasted nothing, but she choked it down. About halfway through the sandwich, she stopped trying and Lila didn’t object.

  “What happened?” Lila asked.

  “I think I might be swimming in money,” Violet admitted. “I am certainly swimming in jewelry and art. I inherited an apartment and house I didn’t even realize Aunt Agatha owned and two villas. Victor inherited the London house. John got rather a lot of money and this old heap.”

  “I’d congratulate you,” Gwennie said. “But I know at least you, John, and Victor would rather have Agatha.”

  “I inherited a percentage, so…I don’t really know how much money I have. Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe I don’t have anything.”

  “Well, it hardly matters, does it?” Lila asked pushing Violet’s doctored coffee at her again. “Yesterday, you were happy with what you had. Today you have more.”

  “Oh, I didn’t think of it like that,” Gwennie said.

  “They’d set this whole thing up,” Violet said. “Jack and Aunt Agatha. The announcement of the will changing, the way Aunt Agatha disappeared into her office. Hargreaves was watching the door to see who tried anything, but no one did.”

  “Then….”

  “Someone unlocked the window to the office last night and slipped in this morning and killed her. I don’t even know how she died…”

  Lila shifted and said, very softly, “She was stabbed in the back with her letter opener. The doctor said she didn’t suffer.”