by Beth Byers
Perhaps the suit meant nothing as Ham only went about his business, ordering events. To cover their bases, there were two constables across the street watching the ladies club and two men in the kitchens near the back doors.
Violet, Rita, and Mrs. Albright were going to be using a small private dining room that had a butler’s pantry between the dining room and the hallway. Mr. Russell, Jack, and Ham would be in there, ready to step in should the circumstances require it. The staffed ensured that the food was ready and on the table so there would be no reason to open the butler’s pantry door.
Mrs. Albright was late enough that Violet and Rita were pacing when the ladies club butler opened the door to the dining room. “Here you are, Mrs. Albright. So nice to see you again.”
“Aunt Jean!” Rita said, tears coming to her gaze immediately. “Oh, Aunt Jean! Thank you for coming. I have been lost.”
Jean rushed to Rita and wrapped her arms around the woman. Violet could see that Rita was stiff in her aunt’s arms, but she made up for it with releasing fervent sobbing. “There, there,” Jean said, rubbing Rita’s back. “There, there, darling. Tell me all about it.”
“It’s the shooter. They caught him almost immediately,” Rita sobbed. “He clued in the constables that things were off with this case. They think that Melody was stepping out on Father and that he murdered her and then hired someone to shoot at me. The man had orders just to scare me and make it seem like murder. As soon as they understood that I wasn’t intended to be hurt, they said it would be someone who loved me.”
“That makes no sense!” Jean snarled. “Why would someone who loved you pay that—that—idiot to shoot at you?”
“To hide their own crimes,” Rita said, pulling away and looking at her aunt, searching her face. The dark circles under Rita’s eyes and the tears that had to be clouding her vision did nothing to hide the brilliant blue of her gaze.
The aunt turned on Violet. “You believe this? You believe that her father would do such a thing?”
Violet made a commiserating face and gently, almost apologetically said, “They were able to track something on the man who arranged for the poison at the club. The waiter will be able to testify and it will link Philip to the poison. That’s such a damning piece of evidence.”
“But, but, but, the ring? Malcom has one of those rings as well. That double infinity symbol is so rare. They were both on the rowing team. Everyone knows that. It’s obvious. He was probably Melody’s lover!”
Violet hid her triumph as no one had told Jean about the symbol being on a ring let alone her previous claim that the symbol was common. They had her now. Since the men weren’t exiting the butler’s pantry, they were hoping for a full confession.
“That can’t be so,” Rita said. “Uncle Malcolm’s wife is notoriously a light-sleeper, and he’s a very heavy snorer. When the yard asked her about it, she told them there was no question Malcom had spent every night in the bed he belonged in.”
“But the money, if you were lost, his boys would probably inherit,” Jean said.
“There’s a motive,” Violet said with that same soft, sweet voice, “for Malcom certainly as far as Rita goes. If the shooter had tried to kill her, then Malcom’s children may well have inherited, and Rita tells me that he’s never liked her. What doesn’t make sense is to try to scare her by seeming to almost kill her. Surely you see?”
“I don’t see!” Jean said, stomping. “Malcom is the one. I am sure of it. He killed that foolish, money-grubbing child, Melody, and then turned his attention to Rita! My goodness, it’s a miracle Rita survived!”
Violet didn’t hold back then. “Why would he pay to have her almost killed? Especially since he was aware that Melody and Philip were using—” Violet glanced about and then whispered, “Contraceptive methods. No one was in any danger of having a child or changing the fate his children likely faced of inheriting, with Rita being an old-maid and Melody and Philip avoiding children.”
“They were what?” Jean demanded. “Those—I—I don’t understand.”
“There are ways, you know, to prevent pregnancies if one has the right connections,” Violet whispered. “I’ve looked into them myself. Given that Malcolm didn’t need to worry about an heir from Melody and he wasn’t trying to kill Rita, why would he attack them both? He gains nothing. So close together? It would have been far easier and wiser to get rid of the wife and then leave Rita out of it.”
“His children will inherit,” Jean said lamely.
“Not while Rita lives. She’s young yet.”
“But she doesn’t want to marry. He doesn’t really need to worry about her children.”
“His children would be grown then. Surely he doesn’t want to watch them struggle only to inherit before they die. No, he’d have killed her too, if he were the killer, but he wasn’t. It was Mr. Russell. The poor man. No doubt he’ll hang. Killing his pretty, young wife. She’ll be made the innocent victim manipulated by an older man. A child taken advantage of and then—”
“No, no,” Jean moaned.
“Perhaps instead of hanging, they’ll shoot him. Do they use firing squads? I think that would be better. A shot from someone who doesn’t know they shot you in comparison to feeling your body slowly expired from lack of air, hanging desperately, legs kicking, knowing you were going to die. Knowing you killed your wife. Maybe both wives…”
Jean’s mouth had dropped, and she was shaking her head over and over again.
“The poor man,” Violet said. “I feel sorry for him, murderer that he is.”
“There’s no evidence. He didn’t do it. He wouldn’t.”
Rita cut in then, flatly stating, “The ring, the waiter who was arrested for delivering altered drinks. They’ll have him testify that he looks like the man who paid him in the club.”
“It was Malcolm,” Jean shrieked. “MALCOLM! Of course they look alike. They’re brothers. The ring, the similar looks, the attempt on Rita. Malcolm!”
“Has an alibi,” Violet said. “Mr. Russell poisoned his wife. They’ll probably even make an argument that he killed his first wife. The symptoms are similar to those of poisoning. Perhaps they’ll exhume the body and see if they can find proof in her corpse. You know they can tell things like that now. From fingernails and hair and such. Even more so as Rita’s mother went from healthy to gone so quickly.”
“It does seem like he could have poisoned Mother too,” Rita said coldly. She wasn’t acting anymore, but Jean was too panicked to notice.
Violet ground in the pain when she said, “I’m sorry, Jean. It must hurt to know the person you care about, love even, will die a horrible death. He’ll probably be abused in prison, linger on until everyone he knows and loves is aware of what he did. His crimes will be on display for the world to see and he’ll die a painful, torturous, ignominious death.”
“That can’t happen,” Jean whispered. “That can’t happen. He’s a good man. A loving man. He loved Harriet. He probably even loved that whore, Melody.”
“It’s inevitable.”
“But he didn’t do it,” Jean moaned. “He didn’t.”
“The only way he’ll be saved,” Violet said clearly and evenly, “is if the true murderer confesses.”
Jean met Violet’s gaze and the two of them stared at each other, each knowing what the other knew. Jean slowly closed her eyes, hiding those brilliant, beautiful orbs. How easy it would be, Violet thought, if all killers looked like monsters.
“How did you know?” Jean whispered.
“It was obvious when we stepped back and looked at all the pieces. If you hadn’t cheeky with the attempt on Rita, you might have succeeded in not being found. The murders of the two wives were so far apart no one would have realized you killed your sister.”
“Rita needed to stay,” Jean said, glancing at the girl. “Gallivanting about the world like her mother. Leaving behind those who loved her. Philip would have let her go back on her adventures, and we’d be left without
our girl.” Her expression was pleading, but Rita turned away from her.
Jean stiffened and when she spoke, it was with violence. “Harriet deserved to die. The whore deserved to die. Neither of them deserved the life they had. The life they took from me! I met him first, you know. Philip? I met him first and Harriet stepped in and stole him, dragging him around the world, never giving him a home, never giving him a son. He was mine. He was always mine.”
The door to the butler’s pantry opened and a sick-looking Mr. Russell stepped into the room, followed by Ham and Jack. Ham took hold of Jean’s arm. “Did you have anything to say to the man who you destroyed not once, but twice?”
Jean looked at Philip, tears filling her eyes, lips trembling as she whispered hoarsely, “You were supposed to be mine. You were always supposed to be mine.”
“I was always Harriet’s,” he replied. “I never would have married you. I never would have wanted you. With Harriet or without, you were nothing to me.”
He could not have destroyed Jean Albright any more effectively if he’d been trying. The sheer honest truth had her collapsing in Ham’s arms, and the poor man had to carry her out to the waiting constables.
Chapter 21
“Is it over?” Denny asked when Violet and Jack walked into the parlor, arm in arm.
Violet took off her cloche and coat and handed them to Hargreaves. Jack followed Violet’s move, handing over his coat and hat. He collapsed onto the Chesterfield, and Violet curled into his side, even pulling up her feet onto the sofa. Jack’s were propped on the ottoman.
“You look like death,” Lila said. “I would offer you something, but we’re mere chaperones.”
Jack shook his head. Violet closed her eyes. “It was awful. Rita and I trapped her with her love for Mr. Russell. She confessed in the end to both murders. Rita and Mr. Russell fell apart.”
“Will Rita be all right?” Lila asked.
“Eventually,” Violet said, “but her aunt—”
Jack nodded against Violet. “That woman was crazy. She’d been harboring a fantasy that if Russell hadn’t met her sister he’d have fallen for her. It was as if someone had stolen her soulmate. She never realized or even imagined that he had never been interested in her.”
“The more I hear of this story, the more I worry over your sister,” Denny told Lila, entirely unbothered by what the other two had experienced.
“Maria isn’t in love with you, my lad.”
“Yes, I know,” Denny countered, “but she is mad, darling.”
Lila didn’t bother to answer. She propped up her own feet and closed her eyes, ready to collapse along with Jack and Violet, when the door to the parlor swung open and Lady Eleanor demanded, “WHAT is this?”
Violet didn’t sit up, which seemed to send her stepmother into a rage.
“Violet Carlyle, quit molesting that man this instant!”
Violet laughed in reply, cracking her eyelids as she asked, “Why are you here?”
“To discuss moving the wedding to June. It’s more fashionable then.”
“No.”
“I’ve already made the changes,” Lady Eleanor announced snidely. “It’s done.”
“I suggest you reconsider what you’ve done,” Violet told her. “Jack and I are getting married in April—”
“The changes are made,” Lady Eleanor declared.
“Or now,” Violet finished, yawning. “We’ll elope. I’ve discovered sleeping in Jack’s arms is quite the thing. I don’t intend on sleeping alone again.” Jack had become as tense as a rock beneath Violet, so she sat up. “You have your options. Let us know if we need to elope or if you’ll return things, all the things, to how I wanted them.”
Lady Eleanor’s mouth had dropped open and she was clutching her throat, her mouth opening and closing. “You…you…loose, idiotic girl. You could end up with child! From a policeman!”
Before Jack could react to the insult and Denny could do more than pop a chocolate into his mouth with a breathy “Oh-ho!” Violet stood. She crossed to her stepmother, took her by the arm, and dragged her from the parlor, explaining as she went. “Having Jack’s children is part of the plan. We’ll be married in April. Adjust one more thing about my wedding, and I will pull in Father.”
“You foolish child. Do you think I won’t?”
“Please,” Violet said, “do.” She opened the door, bodily shoved her stepmother out, and said, “Don’t come back here without an appointment. Hargreaves,” Violet ordered, ensuring that her stepmother could hear. “We are not at-home to Lady Eleanor unless you hear otherwise.”
“Yes, m’lady,” he said.
“We’ve had a hard day,” Violet told him, ignoring the sputtering woman behind her. “I know Cook is excellent, but I want Italian food without leaving the house.”
“Yes, my lady,” Hargreaves said.
“And cake. Chocolate of course.”
“Of course,” he said, lips twitching even though the rest of his expression was smooth and even.
“Wonderful.” Violet shut the front door on her still-sputtering stepmother.
When Violet returned to the hall, she found herself kissed within an inch of her life. The second Jack let her up, Denny picked Violet up and spun her in a circle, telling her that she had given him the gift of a lifetime.
Lila, on the other hand, said dryly, “Long overdue.”
“Indeed.” Violet and Jack said together.
Violet gave him another kiss for leaving handling Lady Eleanor to her. When she leaned back, she whispered, “Is that other matter taken care of?”
He pressed a kiss to her forehead and another to the top of her head before he whispered, “Our cellar is in order. Our house nearly so.”
“What more could I wish?” She tangled their fingers together and turned to their friends.
“There’s nothing more one could wish,” Denny replied, “beyond love, friendship, chocolate cake, and perhaps a good nap.”
The End
Hullo, my friends, I have so much gratitude for you reading my books. Almost as wonderful as giving me a chance are reviews, and indie folks, like myself, need them desperately! If you wouldn’t mind, I would be so grateful for a review.
The sequel to this book, Wedding Vows & Murder, is available for preorder now.
April 1925.
Violet and Jack are finally getting married! The date has been saved, the flowers have been bought, the baker is working on a creation of layers upon layers. With all of the parties and teas to satisfy Violet's stepmother, no one could be more ready for the wedding day to arrive than these two.
When, however, Vi and Jack find a body at one of the pre-wedding parties, they expect their wedding plans to be a little askew. Only the victim is someone they both despised. Now Violet and Jack must solve the murder before their joyful day is ruined. Will they be able to solve the crime, say their vows, and get on with their lives? Or is their happily ever after ruined?
If you enjoy mysteries with a historical twist, scroll to the end for a sample of my new mystery series, The Poison Ink Mysteries. The first book, Death by The Book is available now.
July 1936
When Georgette Dorothy Marsh’s dividends fall along with the banks, she decides to write a book. Her only hope is to bring her account out of overdraft and possibly buy some hens. The problem is that she has so little imagination she uses her neighbors for inspiration.
She little expects anyone to realize what she’s done. So when Chronicles of Harper’s Bend becomes a bestseller, her neighbors are questing to find out just who this “Joe Johns” is and punish him.
Things escalate beyond what anyone would imagine when one of her prominent characters turns up dead. It seems that the fictional end Georgette had written for the character spurred a real-life murder. Now to find the killer before it is discovered who the author is and she becomes the next victim.
If you want book updates, you could follow me on Facebook by clicking here.<
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Also By Beth Byers
The Violet Carlyle Mysteries
Murder & the Heir
Murder at Kennington House
Murder at the Folly
A Merry Little Murder
New Year’s Madness: A Short Story Anthology
Valentine’s Madness: A Short Story Anthology
Murder Among the Roses
Murder in the Shallows
Gin & Murder
Obsidian Murder
Murder at the Ladies Club (coming April 2019)
Weddings Vows & Murder (coming May 2019)
A Jazzy Little Murder (coming June 2019)
Murder by Chocolate (coming summer 2019)
The Poison Ink Mysteries
Death by the Book (available now
Death Witnessed (available for preorder)
Death by Blackmail (available for preorder)
Death Misconstrued
Deathly Ever After
The 2nd Chance Diner Mysteries
Spaghetti, Meatballs, & Murder
Cookies & Catastrophe
(found in the Christmas boxset, The Three Carols of Cozy Christmas Murder)
Poison & Pie
Double Mocha Murder
Cinnamon Rolls & Cyanide
Tea & Temptation
Donuts & Danger
Scones & Scandal
Lemonade & Loathing
Wedding Cake & Woe
Honeymoons & Honeydew
The Pumpkin Problem
The Inept Witches Mysteries
(co-written with Auburn Seal)
