Lady Marmalade Cozy Murder Mysteries: Box Set (Books 1 - 3)

by Jason Blacker

  “I was going to ask the two of you what you were doing in here.”

  “It was something Jack said with his dying breath,” said Florence.

  “I see.”

  “We’ve just come back from seeing Lottie and she told us that Jack said ‘the study’ as his last words.”

  “Go on.”

  “Well, we wanted to know why they were at the docks to confront Jack and one of the things she said was that Garrett had wanted to know where this gold supposedly was.”

  “Ah, the gold that everyone speaks about and yet nobody has seen,” said Gibbard.

  “Anyway, we thought that perhaps the gold was here in the study or something might be here in the study that would lead us to the gold.” Florence looked at Frances. “Does that sound about right?”

  Frances nodded.

  “Let me guess. I suppose the two of you also haven’t found this disappearing gold?”

  “No, we haven’t,” said Frances, “but I think that was the point. I don’t think Jack was trying to tell Garrett where the gold was, but rather to lead him to his killer.”

  “How so?”

  “I think that Jack saw the man who killed him and gave Garrett this cryptic message of ‘the study’ to lead him here. However, I saw Garrett rummaging in here earlier this morning when we just arrived, but I think he was looking for the gold.”

  “So perhaps Garrett has found the gold and stashed it away somewhere?”

  Gibbard was smiling. Why all the concern over this alleged gold that nobody had seen was beyond him. Frances shook her head.

  “No, I don’t think he found the gold here. I don’t think the gold was ever here.”

  “Then why lead his son to his study?”

  Frances was almost getting impatient with the inspector. But she bit her tongue and tried to explain it more clearly.

  “The answer, Inspector, is in your hand.” Frances took the paper from Gibbard. “This note, I believe is from the killer and Jack wanted us, or more likely his son, to find it.”

  Gibbard looked at the note again.

  “Yes, I can see that,” he said, “but it was stuffed in a book on this bookshelf I presume,” he turned around and waved his hands across the bookshelf. “That’s not how you leave something you want found.”

  “True, Inspector, but we are standing in his study and the book has ‘the study’ in its title, I think that was about as obvious as Jack thought he could make it while still keeping it safe. I think whoever gave this to him was someone close to him who might easily have access to his house and study and therefore perhaps come back to find it once they realized how damning this letter is.”

  “I agree,” said Gibbard, “that this certainly looks damning, but who on earth is DG. I haven’t met anyone yet with those initials related to either Ginnie’s or Jack’s murder.”

  “Yes, I know, that’s one piece of the puzzle that needs to be sorted out. And I suspect that if we determine who DG is, we might find our gold too.”

  Inspector Gibbard smiled.

  “This gold that everyone talks about but nobody has seen.”

  “I think there are some who have seen it.”

  “Really, and who might that be?”

  “I believe Ginnie knew of this gold and where it was. Obviously, if this gold was real, which I believe it was, then Jack must have known where he kept it. And I believe the Enoch has probably seen some of it. And lastly, as I mentioned, the person who stole it knows where it is and that person might be the same one who killed Jack.”

  “And what about who killed Ginnie then. Is this person one and the same?”

  “No,” said Frances.

  “Meredith killed Ginnie,” said Florence unable to stop herself before she thought better of it. Frances winces ever so slightly. Gibbard raised an eyebrow and looked askew at Florence.

  “Is that so? And you know this how?”

  Florence didn’t say anything, she was a little embarrassed.

  “This was the other thing I was hoping you could help us with, Inspector,” said Frances. “I’d like you to join us here tomorrow at noon, where I’ll enlighten you as to who the killers are. For as Florence said, Jack and Ginnie were killed by two separate people.”

  “I see, so you’ll come in here and announce the guilty and then let me cart them off?”

  “If you want to put it this way, Inspector. Though I’m certain you’ll be quite aware of the murderers yourself as we discuss the evidence tomorrow, together. Of course I will bow to your authority and expertise.”

  Frances smiled at him and he seemed to thaw from her warm smile and kind words.

  “Very well.”

  “But if I might, Inspector, ask a small favor. It would be most helpful if you could insure that everyone is present. Garrett, Meredith, Luther Garnet and Gerald Forsyth. I’ve already informed Lottie that we need her here and Florence has agree to pick her up from the station at noon and bring her back here.”

  “I’ll give you leeway this one time, Lady Marmalade as I’ve spoken with Scotland Yard and they speak very highly of you. But don’t let me down. You’re in Blackpool’s yard now and we don’t take well to meddling amateurs however well respected they might be elsewhere.”

  Inspector Gibbard was trying to save face more than anything else. Frances nodded politely and smiled sweetly at him.

  “I wouldn’t have it any other way, Inspector. You’ve been most gracious to me and I’ll never forget that. I will just offer my opinions tomorrow as we have an open conversation with everyone here. You’ll very much be making the final decision as to who or if anyone should be charged, but I think you’ll find the evidence quite compelling.”

  Inspector Gibbard nodded.

  “I was also wondering if you’ve had the chance to find out if Gerald and Luther own any guns?” asked Frances.

  “I did,” said Gibbard. “Gerald owns a hunting rifle and that’s all. Luther owns an assortment of revolvers and hunting rifles. One of which happens to be a Webley.”

  “Like the kind that shot Jack?”

  “Yes. But don’t be getting all excited, it’s a common revolver in these parts and it doesn't mean anything.”

  “Of course not, Inspector, but I imagine that in the interest of thoroughness, you’ll be inspecting it as well?”

  “We will get around to it.”

  Frances brushed away some of the papers that had moved back over the desk calendar. She picked up the book and put it back in the bookshelf where it had come from.

  “I wanted to show you these two items as well, Inspector,” she said, pointing to the squares on the calendar for the days of the 6th and 7th of April.

  “See here on the 6th, it says ‘AD, 02, Liverpool’ and on the 7th it says ‘AE to FC, 12’.”

  Frances’ fingers underlined each of the short sentences written in Jack’s quick and ugly scrawl. Gibbard nodded his big head and Frances noticed his ear like a pinched cabbage leaf on the side of his head.

  “What do you make of it?”

  “Well, I think the first one is quite apparent is it not, Inspector?”

  Frances wanted to give him a chance to figure it out for himself. He squinted his eye and furrowed his brow, his bushy eyebrows coming together like two worms about to kiss or fight, not certain of which.

  “Hmm, yes, I suppose so. Albert Docks I imagine.”

  “That’s right, I think he was meeting whoever it was he was supposed to meet for two a.m. at Albert Docks. Remember that Meredith said he was picking up a couple of young women and some gold.”

  Inspector Gibbard rummaged his hand through his short hair. He vaguely remembered something like that. He much preferred cases that were simpler and more straightforward. Perhaps all these new ideas that Scotland Yard had of keeping notes about their different cases wasn’t such a bad idea. He thought now how he might like to have had a notebook to refer back to.

  “So what do you make of the 7th then?” asked Gibbard.
r />   “I think that’s referring to the gold, and perhaps the women, though I’m not sure about that part of it. AE I believe refers to American Eagles. I think this gold was American gold coins. I’m going to have to speak to my husband Eric about that and see what he has to say. He’s very knowledgeable about those sorts of things. The FC I believe refers to The Flying Chan, which is Lee Chan’s restaurant that we spoke about earlier today too. I’m almost certain that Jack was supposed to deliver this gold and perhaps the women too, to Mr. Chan on Good Friday. In other words, today.”

  “If what you’re saying is true, then this Mr. Chan is a bigger problem than we’ve realized and frankly, my Lady, we’ve never even heard of him.”

  “He could be one of the biggest smugglers of opium, women and apparently gold that England has remained ignorant of.”

  “And if he’s conducting business right under our noses then I’m going to make sure to put him out of business,” said Gibbard.

  “I know you will, Inspector, and the sooner the better. Indirectly, I’d argue that Mr. Chan is perhaps responsible for both of these murders. It is because of Jack’s weaknesses for Mr. Chan’s wicked ways that both Ginnie and he ended up murdered.”

  “I had another question for you, Inspector,” said Frances.

  Gibbard looked at her and nodded.

  “Did you get the letters that Garrett had in his pockets?”

  “We got the one from his pocket and the other from Ms. Church.”

  “Good, the one that was in his pocket, it no doubts refers to the same event that I think Jack wrote about here. Don’t you agree?”

  Frances pointed at the desk calendar under the writing written in the square for the 6th of April.

  Gibbard nodded.

  “Have you had a chance to determine who this woman, Rachel Badcocke is?”

  “That letter was mailed from Manchester and I have a man looking into it as we speak. Why do you ask?”

  “Well, I want to rule her out from this mess. I don’t think she’s played any role but I’d like to find out more about her when your constable has interviewed her.”

  “And why don’t you think she’s involved?”

  “Well, quite simply, her name hasn’t come up with anyone else in conversation and someone who’s planning something foul and writing a legitimate threat is unlikely to sign a letter off with their full name I shouldn’t think.”

  “Good point.”

  “So perhaps we could meet here earlier than noon tomorrow just to clear up a few small items on Ms. Badcocke?”

  “Very well.”

  “Thank you, inspector, you’ve been most kind. I do appreciate all your help. If you don’t need us, Florence and I have some more questions for some of them members attached to this home.”

  “As you wish,” said Gibbard.

  Frances and Florence left the Inspector in the study, after Frances had handed the letter written by DG back to him. Gibbard stood, behind Jack’s desk in Jack’s study staring at the paper in his hand trying to make sense of the whole sordid affair.

  TWENTY-FOUR

  Chapter 24

  FRANCES and Florence were walking into the living room when they bumped into Gerald Forsyth coming down the stairs from his bedroom. He was carrying a large suitcase that didn’t seem exceptionally heavy.

  “Good day, ladies,” he said, tipping his hat that he was wearing. Likely the same one that he was wearing when Lottie saw him at the docks last night.

  Frances and Florence stopped to talk to him for a moment.

  “You aren’t leaving already, are you?” asked Frances.

  “Yes, I’m afraid I am. I can’t say I feel at peace in here much since the awful events of this past week.”

  “Yes, it has been quite the ordeal. Though surely Garrett needs you more than ever at a time like this,” said Frances.

  Gerald put his suitcase down realizing that this wasn’t going to be a quick and easy goodbye.

  “Garrett is a grown man Lady Marmalade. He knows where I am if he needs to get hold of me. I’m not far away in Manchester.”

  Frances nodded.

  “Yes, I know. Still, he’ll need help in getting his father’s affairs in order, and surely you and he need to work on the business together and see if it can even be salvaged.”

  “That might be possible. I dare say that might be the only good thing to have come out of this mess.”

  “What is?”

  “Well, the fact that Jack is dead now. It might mean he might not have been able to bleed every last penny from Forsyth Motor Manufacturing and Garrett and I might actually have a chance of turning the company around and if not bringing it back to its former glory, we might be able to limp it along until we can sell it.”

  “That would be your plan then?” asked Florence.

  Gerald looked over to Florence. His arms were crossed across his chest.

  “Can’t say for certain. I’ll need to take a look at the books. But I wouldn’t be surprised if that is our best opportunity at getting something out of the business that my father started at the beginning of this millennium.”

  Gerald leaned down to pick up his suitcase.

  “If you ladies don’t mind, I do need to be off. I have affairs in Manchester that need attending.”

  He stood up and waited for Frances and Florence to allow him past. They didn’t move.

  “I’m terribly sorry,” said Frances, “but we can’t let anyone go until tomorrow evening. You see, the inspector and I haven’t quite had the chance to arrest the murderer or murderers of Jack and Ginnie. And until we do, all of you are still suspects.”

  “This is utterly absurd,” he said. “Not to be rude, Lady Marmalade, but you aren’t the police and I’ll be going if I wish. Good day!”

  He tipped his hat to her and maneuvered around her to get going.

  “Not so fast, Mr. Forsyth,” said Inspector Gibbard stepping into the main hallway, having just come out of the office. He was folding a sheet of paper and putting it in his pocket. “Lady Marmalade might not be the police, but I am. And nobody is allowed to leave until this ugly mess has been wrapped up. If you’re innocent, Mr. Forsyth, and I say it with a big ‘if’, you’ll be free to head back to Manchester tomorrow evening.”

  “I say, this is totally preposterous. Never in all my days have I seen such incompetence and heavy handedness by the police. This isn’t a Bolshevik revolution you’re dealing with here, Inspector. This is civilized bloody England.”

  “It might not be a revolution as you say, Mr. Forsyth, though your tone and demeanor suggest otherwise. Nevertheless, this estate has seen two tragedies, two murders in one week and I’ll get to the bottom of it one way or another. You will be inconvenienced for one day more. That’s all.”

  Gerald was still holding onto his suitcase. Lady Marmalade touched him on the elbow to try and calm him down.

  “Tomorrow is also Good Friday, Gerald, businesses are closed. Surely you won’t be missing anything that can’t wait until next week.”

  Gerald sighed heavily for emphasis. His thin lips shaking like the fragile leaves of autumn. He put down the suitcase again.

  “Very well, but I’ll be off tomorrow night at the first opportunity.”

  “You’re terribly kind, Gerald. And I’m sure Garrett will appreciate having his uncle around for another day. Perhaps you could spend this evening productively trying to assess the company’s records?”

  Frances turned and continued down the hallway. She was followed by Florence and they stepped into the living room. Garrett was sitting down in one of the chairs with another Scotch in his hand. Meredith was still sitting in the same couch that she had moved to when they had been served tea. It looked as if she hadn’t stopped drinking Tom Collins' all day. Another one seemed freshly poured into the glass she held in her hand.

  Garrett stood up as soon as he saw Frances and Florence enter the living room. He intercepted them as they made their way towards the French d
oors. He put his hand out to stop her and held her forearm with his free hand.

  “Thanks for coming back,” he said.

  Frances smiled at him.

  “Did you see Lottie? Did she tell you what happened? Do you know you killed my father?”

  “I did see Lottie and she was most helpful. She’ll be joining us all tomorrow when I identify those responsible for your mother’s and your father’s murders.”

  “Thank God. The police released me not long ago after they realized my gun hadn’t even been shot. It didn’t even have any bullets.”

  Garrett smiled wearily.

  “I’m glad,” said Frances. “But you still made some unwise choices.”

  He nodded and looked down.

  “Yes, I suppose I did. You have no idea how difficult it’s been living here these last few years as Jack ruined everything.”

  Frances looked at him for a while.

  “Have you seen Enoch?” she asked.

  Garrett looked back up at her.

  “Not since I’ve been back, but he should be out back somewhere I imagine, unless he’s skipped out.”

  Frances turned and let herself out of the living room and into the garden outside followed by Florence. She stopped just outside the French doors and took a look around. She couldn’t see Enoch anywhere, so she went to the greenhouse and took at look inside. He wasn’t there.

  “Must be in the shed I imagine,” said Florence. Frances nodded.

  They walked to the opposite end of the garden to the shed and Frances stopped by the doorframe. She peeked in but it was dark inside and her eyes hadn’t adjusted. She knocked on the open door.

  “Hello,” she said, “Mr. Habbit?”

  “In ‘ere at the back,” he said.

  Frances walked in and blinked a few times trying to adjust to the low light. It was tidy inside the shed. A workbench was clear on its top and held a vice at the near end to the door. The tools were clean and all placed neatly hanging up on the sides of the shed. Towards the back she saw Enoch sitting on a chair with a pair of hedge clippers in his hands.