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

by Jason Blacker

  "We'll be sure to investigate that," said Davison. He looked over at Pearce. "Are you taking good notes, Sergeant?"

  "I am, Inspector," said the young Pearce.

  "I'm just thinking," said Davison, "that if Ravi knew who killed him, then why would the shooter have been trying to shoot Gandhi and not Ravi?"

  "As I said before, Inspector," said Frances, "Ravi was involved with the Dharasana satyagraha more intimately than Mr. Gandhi, that might be the only reason why he knows who killed him. Still doesn't mean that the bullets were meant for him."

  "Lady Marmalade makes a good point, Inspector," said Gandhi. "I had planned on leading the march to Dharasana Salt Works, but very shortly after I had written to Lord Irwin I was arrested in the middle of the night about two weeks before it was planned. I was in jail at the time of the march. Ravi helped plan it. He was really the driving force behind it, along with Abbas Tyabji and my wife Kasturba. They were both arrested and so it fell on the shoulders of Ravi, and Sarojini Naidu who led them to the salt works."

  Two men in medical coats carrying a stretcher came down the grassy knoll from the far side of the hall. They walked up to Inspector Davison.

  "We're with the coroner's office, Inspector. Can we take the body away?"

  Davison nodded and the men put the stretcher down on the ground next to Ravi. They picked him up carefully and placed him upon the stretcher. Then they covered him with a cloth and picked him up.

  "Let the coroner know I want to hear from him at his first opportunity."

  One of the men grunted his understanding and the walked off, carrying Ravi's body the very same way they had come. Davison looked around at the darkening night. All three constables now had their flash lights out to shine some light onto the scene.

  "I think that's about all we can do tonight," said Davison. "The light is no longer good. I'll post constables to watch over the crime scene tonight and we'll come back tomorrow with fresh eyes and a bright day to look for any clues."

  "Speaking of clues," said Frances. "We haven't managed to find the two shell casings from the bullets."

  Davison nodded.

  "I'm sure they'll show up in the cold light of day," he said, with the smallest smirk on his mouth that was almost imperceptible.

  "You'll also take a look at the ticket sales, won't you? To see if we can't uncover who actually came to the lecture tonight. I'm sure that will be very helpful to the investigation, Inspector," said Lady Marmalade.

  "Yes, Lady Marmalade, it will be very helpful, and I am very aware of my responsibilities and duties when it comes to investigating crimes."

  Frances smiled and nodded.

  "Of course, Inspector, I didn't mean to suggest otherwise. I just do want justice to be served."

  Davison grunted under his breath.

  "Well, I think that will be all then. You'll excuse us while I talk to my men," Davison said to Frances.

  "Certainly," Frances turned to walk away, when she noticed Eric come up to Davison. Eric placed his hand on Davison's shoulder.

  "I would consider it a personal favor if you would accept my wife's offer of assistance."

  Eric looked at him steadily, his eyes were hard and determined. He was not asking Davison as much as he was telling him.

  "Yes, my Lord. We would be happy for your wife's help."

  Eric smiled and nodded his head.

  "Good," he said and turned and took Frances' hand and they started to walk away.

  The last thing that Frances heard was Inspector Davison asking Gandhi where he was staying. He replied that he was staying with friends in Ealing, West London.

  TEN

  Chapter 10

  ERIC was reading the paper again when Frances came down to breakfast. He looked up from it and smiled at her. He folded the paper and sat it down next to him. His plate was clean except for the telltale signs of grease and yolk that suggested he had already finished.

  The grandfather clock chimed nine times shortly after Lady Marmalade sat down for breakfast. Ginny came in from the kitchen and asked what she'd like for breakfast.

  "One fried egg and one sausage, please Ginny, and one slice of toast."

  Ginny bowed herself out of the living room and Eric looked at Frances.

  "Quite the evening last night, wasn't it?" he said.

  Frances smiled and nodded her head.

  "Frankly, quite an awful business this murder business. Can't say I like it. Can't say I like you being involved in it."

  "Well, if it's any consolation darling, I don't like it either, but someone has to be sure that justice gets served."

  "Yes, but does that someone have to be you? Can't you let the police handle these things?"

  "They do, Eric, they do. I hardly ever get involved in only the smallest fraction of murders. But when one happens in front of you, you ought to do something. Besides, you already encouraged Inspector Davison to take up my offer of help."

  Eric sighed and grinned at her.

  "Yes, I suppose I did, and I'm already regretting it."

  "Do you remember our neighbor from a couple of doors down. Ms. Hummingham, poor dear. I went for some sugar and instead found her dead."

  Eric nodded.

  "I do remember it well."

  "Her soul would never have found rest if we'd left it up to the police. I worked tirelessly on that case to ensure that the real murderer was found, didn't I?"

  Eric nodded again.

  "And we finally got the bugger, didn't we?"

  More nodding of his head.

  "I can't help it, Eric, you know I'm a stickler for justice and I can't let it go."

  "No you can't, you're very much like a bulldog once you've gotten hold of something."

  "And I have a natural ability for it, so it seems."

  Eric smiled and nodded.

  "You do, I'll grant you that. I just despair of you having to witness these gruesome acts of violence. I more than had my fill of it in the Boer War."

  Lady Marmalade remembered that well. It had taken Eric some time to find himself after he had returned from that dreadful war. She had been quite worried about him for some time following.

  "Anyway," he said. "Who do you think did it?"

  "That's hard to say. I think I first have to convince Davison that it was someone who was after Gandhi. From there we have to determine who it might have been from those who were around him, or in the vicinity."

  "What do you mean about being in the vicinity?" asked Eric.

  "Well, I've been thinking, and I wonder if it had to have been someone in the crowd. You know, from where Sujay and Mohandas say the gunshots came from, someone might have been hiding behind the buffet tables. That would give them line of sight."

  "Now that will open up a whole can of worms, won't it?"

  "I suppose so. But this is so early in the case, Eric, that one hardly knows where to being. The puzzle pieces have been scattered all about. You have to pick up each piece and see where they might fit. If you narrow yourself down too much at the very beginning then you might be focusing in on the wrong area. I learned that very quickly in Ms. Hummingham's case."

  Eric nodded, and looked at the paper lying next to him.

  "Speaking of Gandhi, do you think he'll carry on with the conference under these circumstances?"

  "I don't think why he wouldn't, he is after all seeking independence for India. I would be surprised if he didn't, frankly."

  "The paper is saying all the right things about it. How it got off to a good start and all. That both sides are looking forward to 'honest and committed dialogue', which really means nothing."

  Ginny came into the room carrying a tray with Lady Marmalade's food on it. She placed it down on Lady Marmalade's left side and served her a plate with the egg and sausage. She put the tray of toast down in front of her, butter and jam were already on the table, and lastly she put a small pot of tea in front of Frances with a teacup and saucer.

  "There are two slices o
f toast, my Lady, in case you wanted a second," said Ginny.

  "Thank you, Ginny, looks absolutely marvelous."

  "Anything else?" asked Ginny, looking from Frances to Eric.

  Frances shook her head as did Eric.

  "No thank you," he said.

  Ginny left again and Eric and Frances were alone in the living room. Alfred wasn't present either.

  "You're not hopeful then, my darling, about this conference," said Frances as she started cutting into her egg.

  "No, I'm afraid not, love. I think Gandhi will be disappointed. I can't see why the government would want to give up India when we're in such a bad spot with the economy. India gives us cheap labor and cheaper materials. Strategically it would be a terrible move to give that up at this time."

  Frances looked up at her husband and nodded at him as she ate some egg, and rested her fork and knife on her plate.

  "Now, that doesn't mean that I agree with it, I think that Indians should be allowed to govern themselves. I've been against all this appropriating of foreign lands since after the Boer War. I went because I thought I was doing the right thing for England, what I realized was that both of us, the Boers and the British, were fighting over a land that wasn't really ours in the first place."

  "So do you think we English shouldn't be living anywhere else but on our own little island?"

  Frances knew the answer but she wanted to give Eric a chance to elucidate it himself. She didn't want him worrying about her murder investigation. He smiled at her.

  "I'm not going to fall for it," he said. "You know exactly how I feel. Of course I don't believe that. I believe we're all part of one community, the human community. We should really all be allowed to live where we wish so long as we're happy to abide by local customs and laws. No, what I am saying is that we should not be trying to take over other lands through force as we have been wont to do for some time."

  Frances took a bite of sausage and chewed for a while.

  "Then clearly we should start the process of turning over India to the Indians."

  "Quite right," said Eric, "but it's not going to happen right away."

  "Well, if it did, at least Gandhi wouldn't have to worry about death threats anymore."

  "I'm not sure it's that simple, my love, he's a very popular public figure, but that doesn't mean he speaks for all Indians. As you heard him suggest yesterday, there are those within his very own community who are not happy with his approach or goals. Some will likely think that he does not speak for them or their cause."

  "But perhaps that's partly due to the propaganda that the British government has been using to try and indoctrinate some of them."

  "Perhaps, it could also be social and religious differences. There are at least six major religions present in India, that I'm aware of. Hinduism, Islam, Christianity, Sikhism, Buddhism, and Jainism in that order of popularity. Hindus are by far, the largest group with over eighty percent of Indians. So you have five other religions with minority representation who might get agitated if they don't feel their interests are being acknowledged."

  "I'm sure Gandhi is quite aware of all this. He might be a peaceful and non-violent man, but I get the feeling he is quite politically astute."

  Eric nodded as the clock chimed on the half hour. He looked at his watch and it was indeed nine thirty. He needed to get off to work.

  "What are you up to today, my love?" he asked.

  Frances looked up after spearing a piece of sausage in her fork.

  "I thought I'd have Alfred take me back to the scene of the crime after breakfast and see if I can't help them find some evidence and make any inquiries about how the case is progressing. I'll also want to speak with Gandhi later and his man, Sujay. Perhaps we can get some passport photos of the Indians who were at the event and see if Gandhi or Sujay recognize any of them."

  Frances put the piece of sausage in her mouth and Eric nodded.

  "Sounds like you have a good handle on everything. If you don't mind darling, I'll be off. I have a meeting with one of my building managers at ten."

  "Not at all, I'll be quite alright."

  Eric got up from his side of the table and picked up the newspaper. He placed it down next to Frances and leaned and kissed her.

  "I'll see you for dinner then?"

  Frances nodded.

  "Have a good day, my darling," she said after him as he left the living room.

  Just as Frances was finishing up the sausage and egg and buttering her toast, Alfred came into the living room.

  "Sorry to intrude, my Lady," he said.

  "Not at all, you're not intruding."

  "Lord Marmalade suggested that you might like to go for a drive later?"

  "Yes, Alfred, I was thinking of heading out to Abbot House. There was a terrible crime their last night."

  "I heard, my Lady. Lord Declan and Lord Marmalade were talking about it this morning over tea. I'll go and get the Rolls ready."

  "Yes, thank you, Alfred."

  Alfred left to do exactly what he had said he would do which was to get the car ready for the trip. Frances started on her toast and poured herself a cup of tea. The start to her day would have to wait until she had her first cup of tea.

  ELEVEN

  Chapter 11

  ALFRED was waiting for Lady Marmalade by the foyer. He helped her into a light jacket and she tied a colorful scar around her head. It was red and orange. Alfred closed the door after them and helped her into the car. He got into the driver's side and made their way slowly and leisurely towards Abbot House.

  "I feel for this poor chap, Gandhi," said Alfred.

  "How so?" asked Frances.

  "Losing a friend like that, right in front of you. Can't be easy. As I understand it, he's had more than his fair share of difficulties."

  "I imagine that any one hoping to free their country has a significant uphill climb."

  Alfred nodded, looking out the front window, trailing a couple of cars length behind a dark blue Mercedes Benz 770 cabriolet, with the roof down. There was a young couple in the back seat, she was holding onto her cream colored hat and laughing at something her companion said.

  "Why would anyone want to murder a pacifist like Mr. Gandhi? Lord Declan mentioned that you suspected the shooter was actually trying for him."

  "I do, and Gandhi, regardless of his popularity and pacifism is still someone working for change and not everyone is going to agree with that change."

  "So who do you think it might have been?"

  Alfred snatched a quick look over towards Frances.

  "Too early to say Alfred. I'm starting to wonder if the shooter was even in the crowd. He might have been kneeling in behind the buffet table. I suppose the evidence will say."

  "To do something like that right out in the open. I can't imagine what they must have been thinking."

  "That's an interesting idea, it might have been two of them. Though I'm inclined to think that it was more likely just one person."

  "Lord Marmalade said that there were a few Indians and a couple of Africans in the crowd. Why would one of them do it, I wonder?" said Alfred.

  "Because they don't agree with the position Mr. Gandhi is taking I suppose. Though we don't know for certain that it was one of the Indians or Africans who did it, but from what we've heard, I wouldn't be surprised if it was one of the Indians."

  "I overheard Lord Declan mentioning that the chap who had been shot dead had mentioned something to you about it being an Indian."

  "Yes, that's quite true. Ravi was his name, and he said 'Indian p'. That was it. I'm thinking someone with a name with the letter P or, as was mentioned last night, he might just have been trying to say that it was an Indian person."

  Alfred shook his head slowly.

  "I don't know how you do it," he said. "This is quite the puzzle. I wouldn't even know where to start to be honest."

  "You've started off quite well actually, Alfred. You start investigating any crime with the evide
nce at hand and then by asking questions based upon that evidence."

  "But what if you don't have any evidence. I understand that there are no shell casings that you were able to find."

  "You'd make a good detective I think, Alfred. You have a curious mind. The thing is though, we do have evidence. We have Ravi's dead body, and within it are two bullets which will provide clues."

  Alfred nodded.

  "Yes, I see it now. Hadn't quite thought of it like that before."

  "And don't forget all the witnesses, this wasn't exactly a murder in broad daylight, it was after all dusk, but it was a murder right out in public, with many who were present. I'm sure that we'll start to put this together slowly but surely, by asking the right questions of the witnesses."

  Alfred nodded and they drove the rest of the way to Abbot House in silence. Just the soft whirring of the tires on the road and the gentle whistling of the wind as the zipped along at a leisurely pace.

  It was just after ten thirty when they made it to the house and a number of children were playing in the large garden between the house and the hall. A number of caregivers were keeping them away from the crime scene even though the children's curiosity was trying to get the better of them.

  There were a couple of police cars parked by the hall and Alfred drove up and parked next to them. It was a bright and sunny day with pure white cotton ball clouds dotting the blue sky.

  Alfred got out and went around to Frances' side where he opened the door for her and they started off towards the crime scene. A young and fresh faced looking constable stopped them at the far end of the hall.

  "I can't let you any further. This is a crime scene, mum," he said with some authority.

  "I know that," said Frances, "I was here last night when it happened. Please inform Inspector Davison that Lady Marmalade is here."

  Frances spoke with patience and kindness.

  "Yes, my Lady," he said and he trotted off to a clump of policemen that included Davison and Pearce at the other end of the hall where the shooting had taken place.