by Beth Byers
Jack shook his head. “She should help you because we’re finding a killer. I won’t bargain with her.”
“You don’t have to,” Lila said. “It’s Violet’s horror to end up stuck with the wrong man, a cruel man. Juliette is living Vi’s nightmare. Therefore, Violet is incapable of not helping. Incapable of not spoiling the woman. Your care for other women,” she said to Violet, “is why I’ve been reading profiles of families who wish to adopt a baby. It’s why you are finding a way to get Ginny to actually go to school. It’s why I’ve been sending care packages to Anna Mathers at school and stopping by to bring her and her friends out to have treats.” She faced Jack. “Violet is going to help Juliette whether you like it or not.”
Jack turned to Violet, who was blushing a little. “Ginny? The little devil of a girl who helped you find Isolde when she was taken?”
Violet shrugged.
“Helen Mathers? What are you doing there?”
“She’s living in Vi’s Amalfi villa. Violet is helping to find the baby a home.”
“How?” he asked. “Why?”
“She needs help.” Violet tucked her hair behind her ear and glanced away. She offered Jack her glass of limoncello to turn his focus elsewhere, but she was unsuccessful.
“She needs help. So you’re just helping her?” He wasn’t trying to be dismissive. It was as though he couldn’t quite understand it.
“So, yes,” Violet said. “I’m just helping her.”
Victor cleared his throat. “Don’t be so baffled, Jack darling.” Jack’s gaze turned to Victor, who winked. “The fact that Violet is both witty and kind is why she intrigues you, despite her enormous burden of being an earl’s daughter and richer than Midas. Fortunately for her, I even out the rest of her negatives.”
“I think that’s enough, dear Victor,” Violet said. “Shall we catch a killer and then escape home? Please? I never wanted to come here in the first place. And I do have families to interview and business decisions to make.”
“Oh, there she goes again,” Denny said, eating the last of Violet’s box of chocolates. “Being the responsible one. At least some of our fore-bearers can be happy at where their progeny ended up.”
Chapter 20
Jack didn’t want an audience, but Violet suggested that the easiest place to overhear what was happened between François and Juliette was in the old ballroom. They’d used it often as children, and there were balconies that looked down on the dance floor. And floor-length curtains that would hide someone easily.
“You can’t really keep us out,” Violet told him.
“I can,” Jack said.
“Mmm, you can try. But we’ll end up in there anyway. You don’t know this house as I do.”
Jack shot Violet a dissuading look, but she was unmoved.
“No,” Jack said. “That’s final. This could be dangerous. You will remain here.” He left before Violet could argue.
“So,” Victor said the instant the door closed, “the secret passage?”
“Indeed,” Violet said. She winked at Lila and Denny, and they waited a few minutes before walking to the library. Violet pulled a latch near the fireplace, and one of the bookcases moved.
“Oh, these old houses. My grandfather had a passage like this in his house. It made the best place to hide when the nanny was looking for me,” Denny said. “Unfortunately, I wasn’t very discreet, so eventually I was found out and my refuge was lost to me.”
Violet glanced at him and at Victor, who lifted a torch and turned it on. Violet winked at her friends once again and followed her brother into the passageway.
They made their way up a staircase and onto the second level of the ballroom. François and Juliette were already in the room. Violet tiptoed forward after placing a fingertip over her mouth. She would be seen if she remained standing, so Violet dropped to her knees and crawled forward. She peeked over the side of the balustrade and saw Juliette pacing.
“…they ask you?”
Juliette was shaking as she moved. “I…he…knew about us being married. He asked about that. I didn’t know what to say, so I admitted it. Said we found it easier to get work as siblings.”
“Not about that!” François shouted and slapped her. “About Bettina. Did you tell them we were together?”
Juliette blinked up at her husband, holding her cheek. “We weren’t together when she was killed, François.”
“You should have lied!”
Juliette backed away and asked, “Did you kill her?”
François cursed at Juliette in French. “Of course I didn’t!”
“I slipped out of the party after you left,” Juliette whispered. “Charles wasn’t there and you weren’t there, so I decided to get some air. I ran into one of the maids. She knew where I was during the murder. I couldn’t lie about where you were. They already knew otherwise.”
François cursed again. “If they find out where I was, I’ll be arrested.”
“I don’t understand,” Juliette whispered. “Why? If you did not kill Bettina, why would they arrest you?”
“Our days here were limited once Bettina’s scheme went awry and Charles realized what she was. We don’t have enough capital to carry on until we find another patron. Something had to be done. Therefore, I did it.”
“What did you do?”
“These fools don’t lock their bedroom doors and they leave their expensive trinkets out. They deserve to have them taken.”
“François,” Juliette said. “They’ll think it was us.”
“It was us. They’ll think it was servants. Don’t be stupid. I already targeted that little maid, Mary. The one who kept forgetting to light our fires. I’ve told the uptight butler that I saw her poking around the rooms. I left the cheapest looking thing in her room under her bed. She’ll get taken in and we’ll get away.”
“So you were stealing from them while Bettina was killed?”
“No, idiot. My goodness, Jules, you’re a fool. I was getting rid of the stuff. I met the fence, didn’t I? What better time to sneak out and sell the things when everyone thinks we were dancing and drinking in poorly lit rooms? And when the estate is crawling with strangers?”
Violet glanced back at Victor, who raised a brow. She had things stolen and had no idea? It was possible. Though Violet tended to be very careful when she had her jewelry out. Maybe just the others?
“We’re leaving,” François commanded. “Gather your things. It won’t take all that long for them to arrest that idiot, Tomas. They’re going to realize I’ve slipped the room soon. I need to get back.”
“Where are we going?”
“I’ve got a new income for us.”
Juliette nodded. “Of course. Of course. Where will we be going?”
François grabbed Juliette’s arm and demanded, “Does it matter?”
“Of course it doesn’t, my love.” Juliette’s voice was thick with tears. “You know I’ll follow you anywhere. You know that I’ll do whatever you say.”
François laughed meanly. “You will. And don’t you forget it. I’ve got the golden goose for us. Good times ahead.”
Juliette nodded. She slowly straightened as she asked, “François? Please. Where are we going?”
Violet could make a guess. It all came together for her in a flash. But François would never tell Juliette all of it. Not with how he treated her. It was like he enjoyed her pain. Violet stood suddenly, not thinking things through. “I know where, Juliette.”
Juliette screamed and François shook her viciously. “What’s this? A trap?”
“You met your fence at the folly, didn’t you?” Violet placed her hand on the rail and slowly walked down the stairs, watching François abuse his wife. The curtains twitched, and Violet saw one of the policemen peeking out and then sliding back behind the great drape of fabric.
François shouted. “What is this? You have set me up? This is why you asked if I’d killed Bettina? You think to get me arrested?”
Violet stopped well away from François. “Beatrice, my maid, told me of your meeting. Didn’t Juliette send you a note with her? She’s a nosy thing, my Beatrice is, but she’s brilliant at mending stockings. And we do go through them, don’t we, Juliette? Beatrice practically pays her own wages with her needle.”
Juliette was gasping, staring at Violet. “What?”
“Juliette would never betray you,” Vi told François. “You should trust your wife. I heard her whisper to the inspector how much she loved you. That you were misunderstood. A good man doing his best.”
Violet hated the taste of the lies in her mouth, and it didn’t help Juliette either. François kept his wife between himself and Violet. She needed a confession, and she was going to get one for Tomas. Not that she’d attack the man, so why he used his wife as a shield, Violet didn’t know.
“Tomas nearly always walks to the folly when he’s dealing with his ghosts. Especially at night. You wouldn’t know that. Of course it wasn’t you who killed Bettina. Bettina was your co-conspirator. Killing her got you nowhere. You’d already moved on. Stealing our things. Fencing them. You did meet your fence at the folly, didn’t you? I bet you met him near the base on the far side. It’s so easy to park an auto on the lane and make your way through the orchard to the folly from that side.”
François said nothing, just watched as Violet paced the ballroom. The sheets were thrown over furniture that hadn’t been used in decades. A scent of dust hung in the air, making Vi’s nose burn.
“What is your point?”
“You saw Charles stab Bettina. Who else would guess where Tomas would go but a good friend? Your golden goose is Charles. What will you tell him? ‘Pay up or I’ll tell what I know?’ Charles would face a noose for that, and he is rather wealthy. But you know that. It’s why you threw your wife at Charles. You did your research, unlike Bettina.”
“You can’t prove any of this,” François snarled. “No one will believe a woman’s wild guesses. No one. There is evidence that Mary stole those things. Juliette will back me up when I say that you are lying. Two against one. Charles will have to pay more for my inconvenience.”
Juliette squeaked when he said her name, and Violet was guessing that she would be walking away bruised. She would, however, be walking away.
“I thought it was you who killed Bettina,” Violet said. “I thought for sure that a man who would whore his wife and lie to everyone would be just the kind of person to kill the greedy Bettina.”
François snorted. “Death is too final. Blackmail is much more efficient. How fun it will be when no one believes you. I wonder if perhaps you’d also like to agree to pay a small sum. We’ll keep this between us and not tell stories so wild your brother will be forced to put you in an asylum.”
Violet laughed at that. “If you think Victor would put me in an asylum, you are a fool. Just as you are a fool for thinking that because you complained about Mary, anyone will believe she stole anything. The great niece of the butler who was literally raised in this house versus a lying, conniving criminal? You’re going to jail. Jack will find your fence. He’ll get a second witness that Charles killed Bettina, and the rest of us will go back to our parties and our nightclubs and our over-sized, yet stuffed, closets. Nothing will change for us. Everything for you. It’s how it always works out, isn’t it? For the rich like us?”
François snarled as Violet added, “Did you forget the fence?”
“He wasn’t there when Charles arrived,” François said. “It’s still your word against mine and I have a second witness.”
“Mmm,” Violet said. “Does Charles know that you know? If he’s willing to kill a woman he thought he was in love with, what will he do to you? I’m guessing a gunshot. At a distance. He’s quite the…what’s the word you boys use? Target-hitter?”
“I think,” Victor said from the balcony, “the word you are looking for is crack shot, darling. Or marksman. You quite made me turn over in my grave when you hopped up like that.”
François gasped in horror. A moment later, he threw his wife at Violet and darted towards the door. Juliette crashed into Violet, knocking them both to the floor. Before he made it more than a few steps, Jack stepped out from behind the curtains. He stuck his foot out, and François tripped with a solid shove to help him down. A second later, the policeman moved to apprehend François.
The look Jack shot Violet was enraged, but she said, “That frees Tomas, doesn’t it? It’s enough?”
“It’s enough,” Jack snapped. “We’ll be talking later.”
He left the ballroom, shouting instructions at the officer holding François.
Victor carefully lifted the weeping Juliette off of Violet and then pulled Vi to her feet.
“How long do you think it’ll take for Jack to arrest Charles?” Violet asked.
“He’s probably on his way now,” Victor said. “We should have known. We were so afraid to see Tomas as the killer, we didn’t think long enough about how Charles took Bettina out of the party. About how Charles knew where Tomas would be. Bettina was trying to get back into his good graces. She’d have followed him anywhere. If we weren’t blinded by our worries…”
“We didn’t want to believe it was any of us,” Violet said, hugging the sobbing Juliette. “And because of that, we were fools. It would have been easier for it to be François.”
“Well,” Denny announced from the other side of the balustrade, looking down on the scene, “I for one think that my Lila needs to spend less time with this dangerous creature. Violet, I must limit your time with my wife to whenever I have plans with my friends. We shall be taking Tomas with us. You too, Juliette. You too. Let’s get ready to go. The train leaves in the morning, and I need the stench of betrayal and heartbreak from my nose before I am forced to be solemn.”
Lila shook her head at her husband and skipped down the stairs. “You were so brave, darling one. Don’t worry. It’ll work out in the end.”
Violet remembered the look of fury on Jack’s face and was unconvinced.
Chapter 21
The train ride back to London was fraught with emotion and an undercurrent almost as suffocating as when they were trying to sort out who the killer had been. Tomas took the fact that Charles murdered Bettina and left him on the hook for the murder as well as could be expected. Which was to say, he’d been hurt, furious and now seemed entirely unaware of what was happening around him until Violet declared, “Enough! Charles was a fiend. It happens.”
Tomas snapped a look at Violet. “I…well…it happens?”
Lila giggled at Tomas’s baffled expression.
Violet wasn’t done, however, with her pronouncements. “We’re going back to London. By Jove! We are going to have our birthday party. Lila is going to meet adoptive families with me, and then you all are going to Monaco. You’re going to sit in the sun, walk, look after my little sister, and—you, Tomas—are going to get better. Don’t come back until you stop seeing your ghosts daily. Weekly even.”
“It’s not that easy, Vi,” Tomas said. His mouth was open and he was staring at Violet as though he’d never seen her before.
Victor said cheerily, “What a good idea, you shrew. You know, Vi, I think you’d be an excellent fishwife. Tomas, consider yourself a lucky man. Usually you see the witty, charming Violet. This angry devil is the other version. Welcome to my world.”
Tomas looked between the two of them, mouth agape while Lila gasped at the dig.
“Now, now. We cannot have another twin fight, please,” she said. “We should all like to stay friends, and we’ll be forced to join sides and bandy wits. Let’s just have our tea and talk about the weather.”
Denny laughed into his box of chocolates. “You know, love. I believe that was the most reasonable thing you’ve ever said. It is possible that we’re maturing into something more than the flibbertigibbets we swore we’d stay.”
“The relentless march of time takes us all,” Violet sniffed. She glanced out the window and crossed her arms over her chest as though she were furious. It was all a playact, and Violet had no concern that Victor would take her seriously.
Lila took Violet’s hand. Vi put a frown on her face but unobtrusively winked at Lila. Tomas didn’t need to know that they were deliberately causing a scene. Violet had, after all, told him to never propose again.
Violet turned back towards the window and her journal. She was exhausted. They had seen Charles, François, and the fence arrested. From there, they’d taken Juliette to Lyme and put her on a boat for America. Even after François was arrested, the poor woman had been terrified he’d look for her. So she’d asked to leave out of a port other than London. They’d be buying a ticket in her name for Spain when they reached London. If François truly tracked Juliette, after he left prison, he’d be looking on the wrong continent.
It would be made even more difficult when Juliette changed her name as soon as she arrived in America. She intended to open a dancing school in some place called Chicago. Violet smiled at the thought. Finally, Juliette was a freed bird.
“Do you have it?” Violet asked Beatrice.
The maid nodded and grinned. “He’s going to love it. I think the little thing might be the cutest puppy I have ever seen.”
“Yes, well,” Violet said, “he did threaten me with one, once. I thought he might want one, and he won’t expect more than the recipes and the alcohol.”
Beatrice cooed down at the little spaniel lying on the end of Violet’s bed, and Violet turned to take the creature in. Lila had come through when she’d found the dog for Victor. It was sporty enough to keep up with Victor should he be inclined to activity and small enough to happily lie at his feet or—knowing Victor—on his lap.
“Yes, my lady.” Beatrice kissed the top of the little dog’s head as Violet finished dressing for the evening.
Her gown was wine red with the same colour of beading. A dragon had been embroidered onto the fabric with the beading providing dimensions. Violet placed a red, feathered headband around her face, and wore wine red lipstick rather than the usual apple red she preferred.
