Murder at the Ladies Club

by Beth Byers

  She opened the door without waiting and nodded at the same butler she had met the day previous. Violet breathed out, shook her head a little and accepted the towel that the butler provided, following her to the ladies room to freshen.

  Her makeup had been destroyed by the rain, so Violet’s mouth twisted and she wiped her face clean—carefully avoiding her drawn-on eyebrows—then shrugged. If Jack loved her freckles, Violet would too. She reapplied her lipstick, used the towel on her feet and shoes, and then exited the room.

  The butler was waiting for Violet when she exited the ladies room. “Miss Russell is waiting for you with a few others.”

  Violet nodded and followed the butler to the dining room. There were small tables around a very large room and at least two-thirds of the tables were full. The food smelled divine, and Violet could see the appeal of having a lunch with women of a like mind. Perhaps she would truly join the ladies club after all.

  Violet was brought to the table where Miss Russell was seated with another woman who was quite a bit older. Violet had thought that Rita Russell had looked like her father when she’d seen the woman, but now she could see that she took after this woman.

  “Lady Violet,” Rita said, as Violet took the seat that was held for her. “May I introduce you to my aunt, Mrs. Jean Albright.”

  Violet shook hands with the woman. She was brought water as they commented on the weather.

  Finally, Rita spoke. “I suppose you heard?”

  Violet nodded and waited. She wasn’t going to broach this subject for Rita. Not even if Violet couldn’t help but like her. The woman glanced at her aunt and back at Violet. “It’s shocking, I know, to invite you to lunch after she died. I—I should be home with my father, but he doesn’t want me there. It seems the daughter of his first wife—who made her feelings clear about the second wife—isn’t so welcome while he’s mourning her. He did, however, charge me with talking to you.”

  “To me?”

  “While we waited for her to…pass—well, I told him what I’d heard of you. I was only talking randomly because I didn’t know what to say or do, but it seems he was listening.”

  Violet’s brows lifted, and she sipped the water that had been placed in front of her. They ordered a few moments later and while they did, Rita avoided Violet’s gaze. Regardless, eventually the waitress disappeared with their order and Rita was forced to explain.

  “He wants you to help find Melody’s killer. He says she was robbed of her life and you have stepped in for women like her before.”

  Violet leaned back, unsurprised by the request. Being involved with Jack’s cases, combined with her family connections, had added an allure to her interfering that was far more romantic than it deserved. This avenging angel earl’s daughter who stepped in for the victims. The person who deserved the respect was Jack, but Violet was too unusual being a lady and an heiress not to steal the recognition for solving cases simply by being odd.

  “You can be assured,” Violet told them both, “that Jack is more than capable and will do all that is possible to be done for your family.”

  “My father will be comforted if you say yes.”

  Mrs. Albright shifted, and Violet could tell by the woman’s expression that she was not nearly as comfortable with the request as Rita. To be fair, however, Violet had to acknowledge the blush on the woman’s cheeks. Her tanned skin hid it a little better than Violet’s fair skin would have, but it was there if you could acknowledge it.

  “Mrs. Albright,” Violet said, without answering Rita, “are you the aunt who traveled India with Rita after they lost her mother?”

  The woman nodded.

  “Are you familiar with a double infinity symbol?” Violet asked.

  She nodded again. “Of course. It’s hardly all unique.”

  “Are you working on your book right now?” Rita’s dismay was clear as day, but Violet ignored her.

  “Rita told me she’d seen it on a ring? On a gold ring? With black etching to make the symbol?”

  “Well, yes, of course,” Mrs. Albright answered. “Her father, my husband, and several of their friends wore them after school and for years—it took a while before they truly stopped. I don’t think I’ve seen them for some time.”

  Oh, Violet thought, biting her lip. Jack needed to know. He might already know if he’d asked Mr. Russell about it, but…Violet excused herself and found the butler. “I must make a telephone call immediately.”

  Violet was shown to a room and was able to reach Hamilton Barnes. Jack was working in the city, so Violet explained everything and Hamilton listened, taking notes before he asked, “Are you safe?”

  “Of course I am,” Violet told him. “I’m at that ladies club where we found Miss Russell and am having lunch with her. I expect I’ll return to the house just after.”

  “Do,” Hamilton ordered and then added, “Violet, it’s important that you’re safe. That’s the most important thing to Jack.”

  “It’s a ladies club, Ham,” she laughed. “I think I’ll be safe enough. Whoever poisoned Mrs. Russell was a man, and they aren’t welcome here. I’ll go straight home, shall I?”

  “Please,” Ham said, adding almost sheepishly, “I really have no way of arresting my best friend for murder, so I’m going to need nothing to happen to you. Really ever, Violet.”

  Chapter 12

  “I promise I will do all I can,” Violet told Rita as they left the ladies club. They were going to share a cab, and as they approached it, there was a loud crack. After the space of a heartbeat, Violet reacted instinctively, grabbing Miss Russell and throwing them both to the ground, and also tried to find the car that was backfiring.

  There was, however, another loud crack and the glass on the black cab exploded, raining down over the two women. Rita was screaming, but Violet had gone into a sort of tunnel vision and automatic reaction, sliding closer to the shadow of the auto, hauling Rita with her to hide behind the metal. The glass had sprayed over them, Violet reasoned, so the bullets were coming from the other side.

  People were screaming, but Violet cared for nothing but the safety of the auto protecting her. Rita had gone nearly as quiet as Violet. The two of them were clutching each other as if the other was a life raft and they were at sea.

  The shooting stopped. Rita’s gaze focused on Violet’s

  “Someone was shooting at us.” Rita said what Violet was thinking. Someone had been shooting at them. Outside of the ladies club. A ladies club! In London! Why?

  A few minutes later, a local constable knelt in front of them. “The shooter is gone, ladies. You’re all right now. Let’s get inside, shall we?” His voice was low and gentle, and his eyes were wide with concern. Violet could see that he was a good man just by the expression on his face.

  Violet shook her head over and over again, and she glanced up as she heard a man shouting, “Out of the way.” She knew that voice, though she had never heard such a bellow from it.

  People stumbled to the side from the force of something behind them, and then Jack burst through the edge of the onlookers.

  He reached down, ignoring Rita, and hauled Violet into his arms and carried her up the steps of the ladies club. When they reached the inside, Jack brushed the glass off of Violet. They were, the both of them, shaking.

  “How did you know?” Violet asked, as he picked the glass off of her. She cared nothing for the crowd of onlookers. She wrapped her arms around his waist, pressed her face into his chest and breathed slowly in and out. It wasn’t enough. She tried to listen to him, but really all she wanted was the surety that she was alive.

  “I talked to the waiter from the club again this morning. I wanted a moment by moment detail of what he’d been told, how he got the adjusted drinks, all of it.”

  “What was he told?” Rita had arrived, although Violet hadn’t noticed. She cracked her eyes open and looked at the woman, who had her arms wrapped around herself. Her aunt had left before Violet and Rita, and she seemed to be
alone in the horror of what she was experiencing. Violet didn’t let go of Jack, but she held out a hand to Rita, who took it.

  “To give it to the flashy blonde in the black dress.” Jack shook his head against the top of Violet’s. “I realized that Rita was blonde too, and they were wearing the same dress. I told Hamilton we should check on Rita, and he said you were here, with her. I just…knew? I don’t know. Maybe I simply worried and it was luck. If nothing had happened, I suppose I would assume I was overreacting.”

  “But something did happen,” she said for him. Violet took in a shuddering breath. There was a crowd of women watching both them and Rita, who was shaking nearly as hard as Violet, their hands clutched together.

  “Why would someone try to kill me?” Rita asked, her lips trembling, and Violet could see the fear hitting her. She might rally later and be the fierce, independent woman that she was, but it would come after she got through these moments.

  Violet answered her honestly. “Love, hatred, greed, jealousy, revenge, they’re simply mad. We’ll figure it out and stop it.”

  Rita’s gaze narrowed on Violet and her expression was fierce. “That didn’t save Melody.”

  “We didn’t know anyone was trying to hurt you or her.” Jack released Violet but kept his hand on her back as if he couldn’t quite let go completely. “We can’t save everyone, but we can try. You, however, I don’t see why we can’t save you.”

  “She can come to Victor’s house,” Violet told him. His jaw clenched, and she could see his desire to instantly say no. He didn’t argue, but she knew he might later. That was fine, she’d let him decide. She didn’t want to be a casualty in another person’s war, and she had little doubt that Jack would do what he could for Rita while protecting Violet.

  “Is this what life is like for you, Lady Violet?” one of the women asked. “Someone push her membership through.”

  Several of the women laughed while Violet watched Jack barely hold back a furious scold.

  Violet winked merrily, although it was all false, and finished shaking the glass from her hair and dress. “I’m a package deal, you know?” Violet told them. “There’s no ladies club without my own friends.”

  One of the women nodded and another muttered, “Cheeky.”

  Violet ignored them both, hardly caring if the Piccadilly Ladies Club made her a member or asked her never to return.

  She took off her coat and tried shaking it out. The butler, however, took it from Violet, along with Rita’s coat, and promised to brush them both most carefully.

  “Where shall we go?” Violet asked Jack. “If we take Rita to Victor’s house—”

  Jack shook his head. “Is your father home alone?” he asked Rita.

  With a quick negative, Rita added, “Father’s friends and family have been appearing all day. I’d have been there myself but for my mission from Father. I’m sure my aunt, who was with us, has returned already. I had intended to stop by the hotel where my things are and pack a bag, perhaps even move home.”

  “Not yet,” Jack told her. “Don’t move home yet at all. Violet—” He winced before finishing his thought. “What about your father’s house? You’ll be close enough for Rita to be readily accessible to her father while also having more servants than the rest of us, and all of them reliable.”

  “No,” Violet and Rita said in unison. Their gazes met.

  Rita stammered. “I can’t…Lady Eleanor…I—I’m sorry, Violet, but I can’t.”

  “I agree,” Violet told Jack. “Victor’s servants are all reliable and other things will be easier.”

  Jack studied her, knowing she was referring to them sleeping together. They were only sleeping together, but Violet never intended to sleep without him if it was possible. She hadn’t had a nightmare in the last two days despite all of the fodder for them. She was going sleep in Jack’s arms if she had to hike through London, find him, and make him hold her.

  They were shown to a small room while Jack called the yard and Violet and Rita stared at each other.

  “Is it like this for you often?”

  “That was alarming in the extreme. You must have been in alarming situations before,” Violet said. “A tiger while you were in India or a lion in Africa?”

  “There was the most horrible snake in Africa,” Rita admitted. “And another in India. I almost died because I froze. Like today.”

  “I recognize the sound of gunshots because my father is a very good shot and shoots nearly every day in the country. My body knew what it was before my mind had caught up.”

  Rita’s mouth twisted. “I’ve never been much of a hunter. Father either.”

  “Have you ever been engaged?” Violet asked, seemingly randomly but with her own purpose. A jilted lover, perhaps?

  Rita hesitated, then admitted, “I’ve been asked a few times, but I’ve always declined. I’ve never been sure they wanted me and not Father’s money.”

  “Is your father’s money going to be your money?”

  The girl paused a long time and then slowly nodded. “I’d expect so. I’ve never had reason to believe that Father wouldn’t leave me the money.”

  “If something happens to you,” Violet asked, “who would get the money?”

  “Father has two siblings. One or both of them, I’d suspect.”

  “What about enemies? Do you have those? Or your father?”

  Rita shrugged helplessly. “Father made rather a lot of money. I suspect there are always enemies in business when that much money is involved. I don’t think anyone would hate me enough to kill me. Though I’m not to everyone’s taste, you know? Independent, wanting to travel and explore and experience rather than settle down and have children. I’ve had lovers. Maybe what seemed like an amiable parting wasn’t?” Rita shrugged helplessly again.

  “Someone wants you dead for some reason.” Violet glanced around the small office and then back at Rita.

  “What a funny thing to think,” Rita mused, not sounding amused in the slightest. “Someone wants me dead. They almost killed me, but for the mistake of that waiter, I’d be the one who had succumbed to hemlock and died that horrible death. She couldn’t speak, but you could see she was in pain. It was a terrible way to die.”

  Violet nodded and rose, pacing the room and playing with her engagement ring. She felt like she needed her journal and a chalkboard. Something to write on while she pinned down who might have an advantage if Rita died.

  One of the women from the club came in with a teapot, and both Violet and Rita looked at it too long. “I swear I didn’t poison it,” the woman said, holding up her hands. “I can understand your concern.”

  “Why would you, Marguerite? We’re just spooked, I think.”

  “The president told me to ask Lady Violet what the names were of ‘her ladies?’”

  Violet frowned from where she was pacing. “Ginny Holmes, Lila Lancaster, Kate Carlyle, and Isolde Carlyle.”

  The woman nodded and left as quietly as she came. Both Violet and Rita looked again at the tea, and then Violet admitted, “I’m not drinking it.”

  “She wouldn’t poison us. She doesn’t know me well enough to want to kill me.”

  “She’d be a fool if she did. Jack wouldn’t arrest her, he’d strangle her with his bare hands.”

  Rita smoothed her hands lightly over her hair. Violet could tell that her thoughts had shifted. “It must be nice to have someone love you so much. Now that I have calmed down, the sight of him storming through the crowd and hauling you out of the glass and to safety was, perhaps, the most romantic thing I have ever seen.”

  Violet wasn’t sure how to respond to any of that. She hadn’t seen romance, she’d seen agony in his eyes. The way he’d been so sure he’d lost her. The relief when he realized she was all right and then the fury, the stark, raving fury, at whomever had put her at risk. Nothing about that was romantic to Violet.

  “Who doesn’t want to be loved?” was her only reply.

  Chapter 13 />
  Jack returned to the small office while Violet was pacing. He took her in and said, “I’ve spoken to Ham, Mr. Russell, and Victor. We will be going to Victor’s house, and he’ll be bringing in Denny and Lila.”

  Violet’s mouth twitched at the certain glee Denny would experience when they gathered around another chalkboard and discussed the suspects. Jack’s gaze glinted with a similar amusement that faded into a nearly untranslatable darkness.

  “Before we go to the house, we’ll be stopping by Mr. Russell’s home. He has a houseful of friends and family who need to see and speak with Miss Russell.”

  Violet didn’t scoff at Jack’s lie. Mr. Russell had a house full of suspects. If someone was going to profit by the attempted murder, they were almost certainly in the house. Otherwise, it was an enemy, and Jack would need to speak in detail with Mr. Russell about who might despise him enough to murder his wife and his daughter.

  “Ham will be meeting us there,” Jack told Violet. “While I talk to Mr. Russell about this business, Ham will stay with you.”

  “Who is Ham?” Rita asked, as Jack held out her coat for her to put on.

  “A good friend. After the events of the day, I’ll need someone I trust with eyes on Violet while I work.”

  “See,” Rita smiled almost jealously, “romantic.”

  Entrapment, Violet thought, but she smiled and let Jack help her into her own coat. Hamilton Barnes, Jack’s boss. A quiet, rotund man with the same penetrating gaze as Jack and the same ability to follow the thoughts of a criminal through the dregs of society. Eyes on Violet? Yes. Certainly, Ham was the only person outside of Victor that Jack would entrust with Violet’s safety. He wasn’t there just for that, however. He was there to watch the people in the guise of lamb without them ever realizing he was a wolf.

  “Hamilton is being motored over by a local constable and then he’ll take us to Mr. Russell’s home. Victor said he’d meet us there with his own auto and Hargreaves to take you and Miss Russell home.”