by Sonia Parin
Setting his drink down, he drew out his notebook and made a note. “I wouldn’t want to forget.”
“With so much happening, I’m surprised you don’t get around with a personal assistant to take notes.” She held the glass to her lips only to lower it again. Evie told him about her chauffeur, Edmonds, hearing noises in the night. “Could this have been the trafficker depositing his packages?”
The detective looked around the drawing room, his expression concerned.
“Are you about to tell me you haven’t searched anyone else’s motor car?”
“If you recall, Lady Woodridge, it has been raining ceaselessly. The motor cars are not going anywhere.”
“Yes, but if word spreads, they might all try to dispose of the packages.”
“Phillipa Brady promised to keep the information to herself.”
Evie harrumphed, mostly in jest. “I’m surprised you are prepared to trust Phillipa. Don’t get me wrong. She is rather sweet but her loyalties might tip in favor of her friends. Then again, she is keen to get to the bottom of this and find Lorenzo’s killer. I withdraw my suspicions.” Looking at the detective, Evie asked, “If I had to guess I’d say you are having second thoughts about searching the vehicles.”
His jaw muscles twitched, much the same way Tom’s did when he tossed an idea around.
“If I go out now, it would mean disrupting the gathering and Sir Warwick has been far too accommodating for me to do that to him.”
“Heavens,” Evie exclaimed.
“You disapprove of my lax modus operandi?”
“Not at all. However, I just remembered something my maid overheard.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s done.” Evie explained how Caro hadn’t been able to identify the person speaking but, in her opinion, it had sounded like a man’s voice or a woman impersonating a man. “When I received a telegram advising me of Isabel’s arrival the next day, I immediately asked my maid to pack my bags.” Had someone overheard her? She had been in her room, but someone might have been standing outside her bedroom door trying to eavesdrop.
“Tom needs to check his roadster. I wouldn’t want to be accused of trafficking and hauled away to prison.”
Chapter Eighteen
The joy of joys is the person of light but unmalicious humor – Emily Post
Enjoying her smoked salmon entrée, Evie tried to set aside her reservations.
Yes, she would have preferred prompt action, however, the detective had insisted on waiting until after dinner to carry out a search of the motor cars, saying he didn’t wish to arouse anyone’s suspicions.
She had to trust he knew best…
She turned to Lord Braithwaite, Charlie to his friends, who sat on her right. “How did you find Carolina?”
“Highly entertaining,” he said. “She regaled us with tales about her maid.”
“Did she, indeed…” Evie gave him her full attention.
“Hobson is fiercely protective of Carolina and has been known to wander around the grounds in the middle of the night to make sure no one tries to break into the house.”
Hobson?
It took a moment for Evie to realize Caro had given herself a maid. And, in her own way, she had issued a threat to anyone wishing to get up to no good during the night. They would do so at their own risk.
“I suppose that serves as a warning to stay indoors tonight lest Hobson mistakes someone for an intruder. I hear she is quite handy with a walking stick. I also hear said walking stick has a secret attachment.”
“I think after this sumptuous meal, we shall all sleep like babies.” Charlie gave her a pensive look. “If you ever decide to join another car rally, I suggest you limit your lunch to something light. We learned the hard way full meals tend to make people sleepy and therefore hopeless on the road.”
Lorenzo and Isabel had traveled in the morning, so he couldn’t possibly be referring to them.
She arranged some salmon on her fork and tried to stop herself from asking if Charlie had found any packages in his motor car. She couldn’t risk interfering with the police investigation. When the urge to ask persevered, she forced herself to focus on her meal.
Trying to take her mind off the packages, Evie asked, “What sort of motor car do you drive?”
“It’s a 1919 Meisenhelder.”
“That doesn’t sound British.”
“It’s American.”
Evie turned to the young man seated on her other side, Anthony Wright, and asked what he drove.
“A Morris Cowley.”
“Oh, yes. That one sounds British.”
Charlie scoffed. “All the parts are made in America.”
That triggered a discussing about the latest models and plans to acquire them.
They must have all been well rewarded for delivering those packages. Otherwise, how could they afford to purchase such expensive vehicles?
With the meal coming to an end, Evie realized it would be up to her to lead the ladies into the drawing room and leave the gentlemen to their cigars and port.
This would be her opportunity to catch up with Caro and Phillipa who had both been sitting opposite her and had actively engaged their dinner table companions in conversation.
“Carolina, how did you enjoy your meal?” Evie asked as they made their way to the drawing room.
Looking around her, Caro lowered her voice and said, “Now that I’ve had a taste of how the upper crust dine, I might mount my own revolution and demand à la carte dining for the downstairs staff.”
Caro’s impish smile suggested she had made the remark in jest, but one never knew…
“But you already enjoy that. Mrs. Horace takes great pride in cooking for the staff.”
“Oh… yes, I suppose she does.”
At the risk of inciting a full-blown revolution, Evie asked, “Is there anything else you wish to change?”
“Well, since you ask… I notice we are walking at a leisurely pace. In fact, we are strolling toward the drawing room.”
“Yes?”
Lowering her voice to barely a whisper, Caro said, “I always seem to be in a hurry. The bell rings and I have to hop to it.”
“So, you would like to stroll.”
Caro grinned.
“I don’t actually expect you to run.”
“Oh, I never said you did. I suppose it’s the tone of the bell. It rings with urgency and one has the instinct to jump into action.”
“I shall try to ring the bell with less urgency.” Evie hesitated but then found the courage to ask, “Anything else?”
Caro gave a pensive nod. “I think that’s all for now.”
“So, apart from the concerns you have raised, you enjoyed your meal?”
“Oh, yes. Tremendously.”
In the drawing room, Evie gestured toward a set of chairs in the corner.
Accepting a cup of coffee from Wilson, she settled down to ponder the idea of Lorenzo using cocaine.
What could have possessed him to take such a risk and how had he ended up with cocaine contaminated with another substance?
Stirring her coffee, she then thought about the bright young things driving expensive vehicles…
“I think you’ve stirred that enough,” Phillipa said as she took the chair next to her.
“I’ve been wondering about the price of motor cars. You all drive fairly expensive vehicles. How do you manage it?”
“I borrowed mine.”
Evie stopped stirring her coffee. “Is that a euphemism?”
“Certainly not. I’m shocked that you would think me capable of stealing a car. If that’s what you meant and I’m sure you did.”
“My apologies. I did not really mean to imply… I mean… Well, I’m still cross with you for taking such a callous risk. However, that does not really warrant a lack of trust. I’m happy to hear all about you borrowing a car but, right now, I need to know how the others can afford their vehicles. You said it yourself, Batty
hires himself out. That suggests he is in need of money and I assume he doesn’t get any from the estate which we know is in disrepair.”
Phillipa shrugged. “No one really talks about it but I have heard mention of generous relatives covering debts.”
“If we search everyone’s motor cars, what do you think we’ll find?” Evie asked.
“There’s only one way to find out.” Phillipa made a move to get up.
“No. We can’t go out now. Everyone will notice.”
Caro suggested creating a distraction. “I could spill my coffee on you.” Leaning forward, she whispered, “I know how to remove the stain.”
“Please don’t. We’ll have to be patient and wait until everyone has retired for the night.”
Caro cleared her throat. “You haven’t asked what I discovered.”
Evie tried to remember the seating arrangements. Caro had been flanked by Lord Alexander Saunders and the young man with ginger hair, Edward Spencer. “Is Alexander’s father a duke?”
“Yes. His mother’s dowry has kept the estate afloat and in good running order. I didn’t get that from him. Earlier, I had a chat with Lark Wainscot and I pretended to be fishing around for a husband. Alexander hopes to find an heiress to strengthen his position, which leaves me out of the running. Unless, of course, you wish to endow me with wealthy relatives.”
He might be looking for an heiress but he didn’t have any money problems. He would hardly risk becoming involved in anything that might cause a scandal.
Caro cleared her throat again. “Do you wish to endow me with wealthy relatives?”
“Oh… Yes, of course.”
“Fabulous. This night is getting better and better.” Responding to Phillipa’s look of confusion, Caro explained the ruse Evie had contrived. “I never realized I had it in me but I am having tremendous fun pretending to be a lady.”
“I’m sorry, I interrupted you earlier. What were you going to say?” Evie asked.
“Oh, it’s about Sir Warwick’s wife and how she died.”
Evie had avoided the awkwardness of asking but had imagined she had succumbed to some sort of illness.
“I found out about it before I became a lady,” Caro said. “Most of the downstairs staff have been tightlipped but I managed to get something out of the cook. According to her, Lady Warwick had a riding accident. A car spooked her horse, she fell and broke her neck.”
Phillipa and Evie gasped.
They both looked toward the door as the gentlemen, who’d obviously finished their drinks and cigars, joined them in the drawing room.
A thought took shape in Evie’s mind. When Sir Richard had stopped by the side of the road to offer assistance, he had been driving from the same direction Isabel and Lorenzo had come from…
Phillipa leaned forward and whispered, “Are you considering the possibility he might be involved in Lorenzo’s death?”
“I’d hate to admit it, but as the good detective says, at some point coincidences tend to become suspicious.”
Caro pressed her hand to her chest. “Yes, but… Sir Richard has been so hospitable and… I take it he didn’t make a fuss about me being both Caro and Carolina.”
“No, he’s a good sport.” Evie finished her coffee and set her cup down. She watched everyone making themselves comfortable. Everyone except Tom and the detective.
Evie waited a few minutes and when they didn’t appear, she said, “I wonder if anyone will notice if I suddenly slip away.”
“Would you like me to create a diversion?” Caro asked. “I suppose I could spill coffee on myself but this dress is too pretty to ruin. The light shade of pink might make it difficult to fix a stain.”
“No, that’s fine, Caro. I’ll… I’ll sneeze.” Evie made quite a show of it. “Oh, heavens. I’m afraid getting caught in the rain has given me a chill. I’ll have to go upstairs to fetch a wrap.”
“That will work too,” Caro whispered.
Evie rushed upstairs and rummaged through her luggage. When she didn’t find a wrap, she snatched a handkerchief. On her way down, she headed straight for the servants’ stairs and went down until she found the kitchen where she asked a footman for directions to the back door.
“I’ll light the way for you, milady,” the footman offered.
“No need. Do you mind if I borrow your lamp?”
Nodding, the footman led the way. “Be careful. The cobblestones in the yard are uneven and still slippery from the rain. I’ll stand by the door, just in case.”
“Thank you.” The moment the back door opened, Evie regretted not finding a wrap. The breath she drew in chilled her to the bone. Bracing against the unseasonal cold, Evie took care treading across the yard. On her third step, she hit a protruding edge and nearly stumbled.
She could see a light outside the stables and, from a distance, could make out the shape of the motor cars. Drawing closer, she saw a shadow moving. “It had better be Tom or the detective,” she murmured under her breath even as she worried about encountering someone else.
Belatedly, she wished she’d taken greater care to see if any of the other gentlemen had been missing from the drawing room.
The person must have seen her coming. The light Evie had seen went out and the stable yard faded into the darkness.
Holding the small lamp out in front of her only gained her an extra foot of light. Regardless, or foolishly… she forged ahead, her eyes straining to see.
Something moved.
Evie tensed and her instinct went haywire. A part of her pushed for a swift retreat to safety while another part, one she barely recognized, urged her to forge ahead.
She took courage and stepped forward but only because she knew the footman had remained by the kitchen door.
The shadow moved again.
Since she couldn’t decide if she should retreat or go forward, Evie moved sideways.
She took a couple of hurried steps forward and, again, she moved sideways. With the stable yard in darkness, she couldn’t tell how close she’d come to the motor cars.
“Halt,” someone whispered in a hushed tone.
Evie responded by rushing forward.
“Put away your revolver, detective. It’s Lady Woodridge.”
“Tom?”
“Who else did you think would be out here?”
“I don’t know,” Evie admitted.
“If you didn’t know, why did you persevere?” Tom demanded.
Evie defended herself by saying, “The footman is still standing at the kitchen door. One yelp from me and he would have alerted the entire house.”
Tom pushed out a frustration filled breath. “Why did you come out here? You might have alerted the others.”
“As if your absence hasn’t already done that… Anyway, I had to speak with the detective… About Sir Richard and the way his wife died.”
Chapter Nineteen
Like thieves in the night
“Caro, your maid, is parading around as Lady Carolina, your cousin twice removed, and you have engaged her services to question the car rally group?”
While Evie didn’t care to answer a question with a question, she couldn’t help it. “Detective, that’s the part you found intriguing?”
The detective pushed out a breath. “You’re right. I should be used to you by now.”
“What exactly is that supposed to mean?” She lifted a staying hand. “Don’t bother making excuses. You think I interfere. That is absolute nonsense. All along, I have been forthcoming with useful information.”
“With all due respect, Lady Woodridge, you do make a habit of bartering for information.”
“I think you would be hard-pressed to find someone to fault me in that regard. Anyone in my place would do the same.” She held up the lamp and moved toward a motor car. “Why are you standing around in the dark?”
“Our lamp went out,” Tom said. “And then you came along…”
“And just as well I did.” Evie swung the lamp toward the
detective. “So, detective, what do you make of this business? I really don’t wish to think Sir Richard has plotted to take his revenge. The fact I have even mentioned this new knowledge shows I am prepared to put aside my personal feelings. Although, I do still harbor reservations. He has suffered a great loss which might have influenced his behavior and forced him to make some bad decisions…”
“I will have to look into the accident report. In order for him to, as you say, take revenge, he would have to know something about the driver responsible. Until I can see the police report, I won’t be able to take any steps.” He crossed his arms. “In any case, what exactly are you suggesting? Do you think he haunted the road waiting for the driver responsible for his wife’s death to appear so he could… force him to inhale contaminated cocaine?”
Grief could be overwhelming and push a person to take extreme measures… “Fine,” Evie conceded. “It does sound ludicrous.”
“But worth looking into,” Tom said. “Remember, there is a gap between the time Lorenzo left Halton House and met his unfortunate end. For all we know, Isabel and Lorenzo might have stopped along the way and… Well, we know Sir Richard had been traveling along the same road.” Tom brushed his hands across his face. “Yes, it does sound ludicrous. I can’t even begin to imagine what might have happened then.”
“I can,” Evie chirped. “Stricken with grief, Sir Richard had been waiting a year to exact his revenge. Let’s assume the police report will have details about the driver and let’s also assume the police decided the driver had not been at fault. Not convinced and certainly not satisfied, Sir Richard decided to take matters into his own hands. He is a prolific reader and might have come across information leading him to believe Lorenzo was in fact a cocaine user on his way to… Portsmouth. Actually, that might not be so farfetched. Sir Richard might have read about him being in Brooklands… Anyhow, employing the utmost patience, Sir Richard carried with him a contaminated amount of cocaine. Upon meeting Lorenzo on the road, he… Well… you get the gist of it.” She knew the police focused on collecting physical evidence and studying the facts but, in her opinion, she saw nothing wrong with considering other possibilities, including wild speculations.
