by Beth Byers
She made her way down the stairs and to the hall by the front door and found Victor with a bandaged hand and a scowl on his face.
“Were you magnificent?”
“Of course,” he said. “Stings like the dickens.”
Violet laughed. “It is a good thing we brought Giles to see us safely home. Injured as you were in the pursuit of truth. And what was the verdict?”
Victor scowled at Violet before he admitted, “Keeled over like a felled tree. Just as Father said.”
“Let’s go, shall we? I feel the need for fresh air.”
Violet told him of her conversation with Lady Eleanor while they drove back to London. It was a long ride, and Violet had brought her journal with her. She sketched out her thoughts while Victor slept. Her original list of suspects had read:
Helen Mathers
Harry Mathers
Markus Kennington
Norman Kennington
Mr. Gulliver
Mr. Higgins
Hugo Danvers
Henry Carlyle
Violet ran over each of them in her mind. Helen Mathers, like Violet and Isolde, was too weak to have committed the crime. Given the way she’d tried to kill herself after his death, she must have had the final hope for a future fade with his death.
Harry Mathers was supposedly a good churchman who took careful care of his daughters beyond trusting his long-time partner too much with his child. If he did not realize the state of his daughter, why would he have killed Danvers? Unlike the rest of the people involved in the investment scheme, Mathers had a good likelihood of knowing that the scheme was a sham.
Violet had written a letter to Harry Mathers. She’d mentioned in that letter her concerns about his relationship with Danvers, but if she had been successful, Mathers had brought his daughter to the house where he would have murdered his partner.
Violet didn’t see that as happening. Had he intended to challenge Danvers on the reality? Mathers had time enough to do that before the wedding day. If he had shown up intending to kill Danvers, he would have left his daughter home.
Violet very much wanted to talk to Helen. So many people knew of her existence as Danvers’s lady friend. What had Helen known? She wasn’t blind and dumb as people so often assumed of young girls like Helen. Violet made a wager with herself that she’d be able to get details from Helen than Mr. Barnes or Jack wouldn’t be capable of getting Helen to reveal.
Markus Kennington was next on Violet’s list. He hadn’t been happy with Vi and Victor’s questions, but Father’s point about Markus’s fortune weighed heavily on Vi’s mind. The truth of the matter was that a man who had to button-up might give someone a good beating, but he wouldn’t necessarily murder that person. That would ruin far more than economizing. His children were young. They weren’t in a position of needing a start or even requiring very expensive schooling.
Violet played with her ring as she watched London take form. It was dank and grey that day, and she wanted to be at the sea. She sighed and glanced back down at her list. She felt certain that Victor’s experiment vindicated Norman Kennington, especially since he hadn’t lost everything. Like Markus, Norman might take a financial blow, but in the end, he’d be all right.
Mr. Gulliver. That one paused Violet. Mr. Fredericks had said that both Mr. Higgins and Mr. Gulliver were positioned to lose everything, and Violet had seen Mr. Gulliver physically pursuing Danvers. She couldn’t remove him from her list.
She’d love to know what Jack had discovered about both Higgins and Gulliver, seeing as how she couldn’t just show up at their house as she had done at the Matherses’ house. Violet sighed. She was no more able to cross them off of her list than she was able to expand upon them.
But what about Hugo? Violet’s first instinct was to circle his name and underline it. She knew, however, that was because she didn’t like him. If she paused and considered his behavior, how much of his father’s income had he been counting on inheriting? Did Hugo know it was all stolen? If the scheme failed, would Hugo be able to slide away with the stolen funds and leave everyone else with an empty bag?
The last name was her father, but Violet was certain that her father had not killed Danvers. He’d simply have ruined Danvers’s good name and, in so doing, his business.
Chapter 16
Violet was dressing for an evening out when Isolde entered her bedroom. “I suppose it would be very improper of me to go dancing with you.”
Violet grinned at her sister. “Well darling, it would be. You must pretend to mourn for at least two weeks. Surely by then, they’ll have a good idea of who killed that blighter you escaped, and we’ll be able to go on our trip. Did you start reading the book about Belgium?”
Isolde nodded and sat on the writing table where Violet’s typewriter was covered and her journal was tucked into the drawer with her favorite pen. She looked rather glum as she watched Vi put on her finery.
“Dancing isn’t a pastime that is going away, love. We’ll go with you so often you’ll be begging to remain abed with a treatise on manners and housekeeping.”
Isolde’s snort of laughter was just what Violet was looking for. She turned on the stool in front of her vanity and said, “Darling one, don’t be sad.”
“Oh, I suppose I’m not so sad. It’s likely enough that I’d get to the club and wish to go home and whimper into my pillow.”
Violet laughed merrily and put on her makeup. She was wearing her kimono and Isolde exclaimed over it when Violet rose to examine her dresses. Violet pulled out a black dress with shimmering gold detailing. It had straps at the shoulders, a low waist, with a hem that was higher in the front than the back. It would show off her pretty diamond-buckled shoes.
The second option had lacy, sleeveless straps, jagged uneven hems that reached her mid-calf only at the longest points, and it was entirely gold.
Vi loved them both but let Isolde choose, and she chose the gold dress, a braided gold headpiece with a peacock feather to one side, and gold and pearl ear bobs. Violet wrapped her favorite long strand of pearls around her neck a few times and added a diamond choker from Aunt Agatha’s collection. With several diamond bracelets, Violet shimmered with each breath.
“You look like Aphrodite or some other goddess,” Isolde said with wide eyes.
Violet laughed and kissed each of her sister’s cheeks before she put on red lipstick and placed a black and gold wrap around her shoulders.
“Thank you, darling,” Vi said happily.
“Where will you go?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Victor and Denny seem to have a mission to sleuth out the best places for jazz, drinks, and dancing. They do all right at it too.”
Vi joined her brother in the foyer and he said, “The others will meet us there, luv. And don’t you look like a golden drop of sunshine.”
Vi grinned and replied, “You look rather smashing yourself. I am utterly thrilled to be escaping the gloom of this case. For the first time since we’ve been back to England, I feel as though we’ve come home.”
Victor laughed.
They drove across London to a club where he’d reserved a table for them. They entered to a cloud of smoke and dim lights. Violet left her bag and shawl with the girl at the desk and then let her brother lead her through the crowd. It was noisy and smoke-filled but buzzed with an energy that had Violet bouncing on her toes as they were seated by a slender, black man with a magnificent set of eyebrows. She grinned at him, and he winked before leaving them at the table. It took Violet a moment to realize that the form she’d thought at first was Denny was, in fact, Jack.
“Jack! You look dashing! I wasn’t expecting you.”
He’d already ordered drinks and handed her a gin and tonic with another for Victor. “I hope the surprise is acceptable?”
She laughed and nodded as the girl on the stage started a song that captured Violet’s attention for a moment before she said, “Oh, isn’t her voice lovely.”
“I went ahead
and ordered nibbles as well,” Jack told Victor.
Her brother nodded but added to the order. “I might look slender, but I could always eat.”
The first number ended and Jack pulled Vi onto the floor. She shivered in delight. They danced until she wasn’t quite sure how much time had passed, but when he suggested stopping for a breather and a drink, she was famished for food and desperately thirsty.
When they returned to the table, it was empty, but she could see Victor dancing with a gorgeous blonde and Denny and Lila moving through the number with the grace of a couple who’d danced so often together, they could anticipate each other’s every move.
Jack ordered drinks, and they decided to try something new. This time it was early spring berries muddled into a mint julep. The waiter said he’d heard it was good, with a waggle of his eyebrows, and they took his suggestion.
“Victor said you made your way back to Kennington House?” Jack asked and Violet nodded.
“Did he tell you anything else?”
Jack shook his head, so she told him of what she’d learned from Markus and Norman Kennington, confirming Frederick’s guess about their finances.
She retold Victor’s dramatic tale of having borrowed a pocket knife off a gardener, hunting up Norman in the gardens, cutting his ‘mortal flesh’ and then attacking Norman with his bloody hand.
“He keeled right over. Papa described it as a tree being felled and Vic said it was just so.”
By the end of the story, Jack was laughing and Violet had been presented with a plate of chocolate-covered strawberries and more lobster canapés. They shared the small plates and their finger had somehow become tangled together under the table when Denny and Lila collapsed into their seats.
“Hot, isn’t it?” Lila asked, reaching over and snagging one of the strawberries.
Lila inquired after the case as they ate and heard the update about Helen. Her gaze narrowed as she heard of Helen’s fate told mostly in whispers while Jack and Denny discussed yachting.
“I’d buy a yacht,” Denny said, loudly enough to catch Lila’s attention. “But my wife won’t let me.”
Lila shot Denny a barely concealed irritation. “While we were gone, Denny spent too much time with Tomas St. Marks, who went from Paris to a ship-builder in Scotland and then sailed home on some sleek beauty.”
“I thought you spent all your time eating your feelings, my friend?”
Denny snorted. “Well, I did that too. Look at this?” He stood and pointed out the bulging buttons on his vest. “Lila is going to have to dance with me for nights on end until I can wear this suit and breathe easily.”
Violet rolled her eyes at him. “Tell Jack who you think killed Danvers.”
“If it wasn’t me? I was there you know, and the more I know of him, the more I hate him.” Denny gestured to the waiter and ordered another round of drinks. He added to the order a series of finger foods before Victor returned to the table. He’d brought his dance partner back to her friends and settled in with his sister and their friends.
“What are we talking about?” he asked.
“Murders,” Denny said. “So we’ve got more booze on the way. The jazz makes it seem less…real.”
“According to Vi, it was about as real as it gets, my friend. You can tell when Vi thinks about it because she changes colors.”
Denny and Victor turned to Jack, who was the only other one who’d actually seen the body. He sighed. “The killer seemed angry.”
Violet shuddered. “Can we not talk about that part of it?”
“Seconded,” Lila said.
“Where’s Gwennie?”
“Dinner with the aunt,” Denny said. “Who do you think did the deed, Victor?”
“My money is on Gulliver. He’s gonna lose everything, he was getting a bit physical with Danvers before the chappie died, and I didn’t like his expression when he was trying to trick Vi into throwing her fortune down the crapper after his.”
They all looked to Jack, who scowled at each of them in turn.
“Well?” Lila’s expression was an out and out dare.
Jack sighed. “I haven’t decided. I lean towards Gulliver myself. Barnes tracked down Mathers today, but he went straight home after, so I haven’t heard the details there. Higgins has an alibi. Norman Kennington will be more affected by the losses than Markus, but given his reaction to the blood today, it seems unlikely that he’d have been able to murder Danvers in the way he was killed.”
“What about Hugo?” Vi asked as she sipped her drink. Denny had ordered this round, and they’d all gotten flutes of champagne.
“You just hate him,” Victor told Vi.
She considered and then nodded. “All the same…he’s got my vote for the killer.”
They all glanced back to Jack.
“The motive for him is tenuous,” Jack told them. “Why would he kill his father? Why at that time? With so many people around?”
“Perhaps for just that reason,” Violet said. “If he killed his father at home, it narrows the pool considerably, doesn’t it?”
Jack grinned at Violet. “I need fresh air.”
“Shall we go back to the house? We can make 2:00 a.m. sandwiches. Ham, cheese, watercress.”
“Please, feed me,” Denny pled. “Lila has taken away all the good things.” He popped the last of the canapés in his mouth. “I need something more than mouthfuls.”
“It would cheer Isolde if we went back there for drinks. Assuming she isn’t already asleep. I had Giles get her some sleeping pills, so she’s starting to look a little better.”
“And yet she’s so pale and wan.” Victor sighed. “I wonder if Bruges will be enough.”
“She’s young,” Jack said. “She’ll recover. It’s been but days, my friends. She is lucky. She has you and your sister. And your oldest brother and your father are both more concerned for her than anything else. I’ve worked enough of these cases to know how lucky your sister is.”
Violet rode back to her house with Jack.
“I didn’t realize Victor hadn’t told you I was invited,” he confessed.
Violet laughed. “Victor approves of you. His machinations are his way of showing it.”
“I don’t want to suffocate you. If you’d like, we can adjust our plans for the Criterion and the play.”
Vi grinned at him. “You did, however, already buy play tickets?”
“Barnes would be happy enough to go in our place, if…”
“Jack, I am going to be very straightforward with you for a moment and set aside the games we ladies like to play with you gents.”
He glanced at her, his lips twitching. “I think I’m ready for this great revelation.”
“If I didn’t want to join you for dinner, I would tell you so. If I hadn’t wanted to ride with you in this car and to spend more time with you, I’d have gone with Victor.”
“Let me see if I can translate the female speak you just gave me.”
“Ah!” Violet said, “You fiend! Translate then—”
“You are, in fact, willing to go to dinner with me tomorrow and to the play?”
Violet nodded. “Did you wish to escape me? Perhaps you’re just trying to put the blame of canceling on me?”
“Indeed not,” Jack replied and somehow their fingers tangled together again.
When they reached Victor’s house, Vi found Isolde wearing her kimono and learning from Victor how to make drinks.
“Scandalous minx!” Vi scolded playfully. “I’d tell you to throw a dress on, but I suppose you are showing less skin than I.”
“I should have asked. I just wanted to see what it felt like.”
“Think nothing of it,” Violet told Isolde. “You look splendid in gold and black!”
Chapter 17
Violet had a determined lie-in the next morning, but she wasn’t able to sleep as she’d planned. Instead, she found herself flipping through her journal. First, she wrote about Jack, and she had to admi
t she was looking forward to donning that black and gold evening gown and sitting in the theater with him. The sheer idea that he wanted to spend his time with her left her quite distracted.
Violet flipped from the history of her and Jack. Their interactions were so few that she had to remind herself that she didn’t have enough experience with him to be anything other than infatuated.
When she avoided the sections about Jack, the rest was about Isolde, both before and after the murder, and what Violet had found out about Danvers. She wanted, no needed, to hear a perspective of a woman who wanted to be around him. She could imagine how Isolde had tried to be blind to much of what occurred around Danvers, but would it be the same with Helen?
Margate wasn’t so far from London. If they took an early train, she and Victor could go down, see Helen and Mr. Mathers, and return in time for the late dinner and play.
Vi rang the bell for Beatrice.
“My lady?”
“Send Giles in to Victor. Tell Victor to wake and dress. Wear a casual suit. We’re going to the sea.”
Beatrice’s brows rose and she asked, “Do you need me to pack you a trunk?”
“No, no, we’ll be back by the evening train. Hurry now.”
Violet washed quickly, dressed, and harassed the still-shaving Victor through finishing dressing. They ate a quick breakfast and had Giles drive them to the train station, just barely making the late morning train. The journey was quiet as Violet considered her notes again and again.
Mr. Gulliver, Mr. Mathers, and Hugo Danvers.
What was Jack doing to pursue Mr. Gulliver? Did he have anything that would provide the man an alibi or a reason to have killed? What about Hugo? People were there to celebrate his own father’s wedding. Surely someone had seen him during the window when the murder occurred?
Violet found herself distracted from her thoughts about the murder to consider the role of a female in all this. Vi pictured Helen, Isolde, and herself and the different lives they’d had already. Then Vi added in Gwennie and Lila. Each of the women lived in a time when women had more freedom than ever before. They were, however, facing the same issues that women had faced for generations.
