The White Feather Murders
Page 1
Endorsements
Praise for The Bachelor Girl’s Guide to Murder
Book 1 in the Herringford and Watts Mysteries
“It’s been a long time since I’ve had this much fun reading a historical novel, but [The Bachelor Girl’s Guide to Murder] not only tickled my fiction-loving fancy, but made me want to put a Canadian stamp on my passport to discover the Toronto this author so clearly adores. This book is utterly delightful… and an all-around surprise. Fans of all incarnations of the Sherlock Holmes tales will love the humor, romance and sensibly feminist take on the mystery-solving-for-hire story. Highly, highly recommended!”
USA Today
“McMillan’s delightful debut is an original, humorous tale. The author describes the 1910 Toronto setting incredibly well, immersing the reader from the beginning. Jem and Merinda are perfect foils for each other; levelheaded Jem balances impetuous Merinda. With shades of Sherlock Holmes, tongue-in-cheek footnotes, and a great whodunit, put this one on your must-buy list.”
Romantic Times
“Canadian author McMillan makes a terrific debut with this Edwardian mystery, mixing Sherlockian deduction with humor and a side order of romance. Her protagonists—the mischievous Merinda and the more levelheaded Jem—are sure to delight readers who will also enjoy the snappy dialog and plot twists. Historical fiction fans will be intrigued by the fascinating details on Toronto’s early twentieth-century theater scene. A solid choice for devotees of Rhys Bowen’s mysteries.”
Library Journal, starred review
“Fresh and beguiling, the Bachelor Girls are an engaging new addition to the mystery scene. They tackle criminals with a combination of unique moxie and an irrepressible sense of adventure. I want to be friends with the Bachelor Girls!”
Deanna Raybourn, New York Times bestselling author of the Lady Julia Grey Mysteries
“In her fabulous debut, Rachel McMillan brings 1910 Toronto to rich and wonderful life. The intrepid Jem and Merinda make a winning detective team. Full of romance and derring-do, The Bachelor Girl’s Guide to Murder will keep you turning pages.”
Nancy Herriman, author of No Comfort for the Lost
“Smart, sassy, and chic. The Bachelor Girl’s Guide to Murder is all that and more. A fabulous historical. Encore, Rachel McMillan!”
Laura Frantz, author of The Mistress of Tall Acre
“A wonderful romp! McMillan’s delightful debut introduces us to a beguiling and intrepid crime-solving duo. The two lovely ladies defy expectations and social norms as they lead us across early twentieth-century Toronto and into the heart of a compelling mystery… with a dash of romance on the side. Can’t wait for more of these two and the adventure they’ll lead us on next!”
Katherine Reay, author of The Brontë Plot
Praise for A Lesson in Love and Murder
Book 2 in the Herringford and Watts Mysteries
“Fans of the various Sherlock Holmes incarnations will enjoy this female-empowered historical novel.”
HappyEverAfter.USAToday.com
“Rachel McMillan’s character development and witty humor, paired with subtle messages of faith, have paved the way for an irresistible series. Bring on The White Feather Murders!”
ChristianShelfEsteem.wordpress.com
BOOKS BY RACHEL MCMILLAN
HERRINGFORD AND WATTS MYSTERIES
A Singular and Whimsical Problem
(ebook-only novella)
The Bachelor Girl’s Guide to Murder
Of Dubious and Questionable Memory
(ebook-only novella)
A Lesson in Love and Murder
Conductor of Light
(ebook-only novella)
The White Feather Murders
HARVEST HOUSE PUBLISHERS
EUGENE, OREGON
Scripture quotations are taken from
The Holy Bible, New International Version®, NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.® Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.
The King James Version of the Bible.
Cover by Nicole Dougherty
Cover Image © Kristina Smirnova / iStock
Published in association with the William K. Jensen Literary Agency, 119 Bampton Court, Eugene, Oregon 97404.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
THE WHITE FEATHER MURDERS
Copyright © 2017 by Rachel McMillan
Published by Harvest House Publishers
Eugene, Oregon 97402
www.harvesthousepublishers.com
ISBN 978-0-7369-6644-3 (pbk.)
ISBN 978-0-7369-6645-0 (eBook)
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: McMillan, Rachel – author.
Title: The white feather murders / Rachel McMillan.
Description: Eugene, Oregon: Harvest House Publishers, [2017] | Series: Herringford and Watts mysteries; 3
Identifiers: LCCN 2016046260 (print) | LCCN 2016054678 (ebook) | ISBN 9780736966443 (paperback: alk. paper) | ISBN 9780736966450 (e-book)
Subjects: LCSH: Women detectives—Canada—Fiction. | Murder—Investigation—Fiction. | BISAC: FICTION / Christian / Suspense. | GSAFD: Mystery fiction.
Classification: LCC PR9199.4.M4555 W48 2017 (print) | LCC PR9199.4.M4555 (ebook) | DDC 813/.6—dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2016046260
All rights reserved. No part of this electronic publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, digital, photocopy, recording, or any other—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The authorized purchaser has been granted a nontransferable, nonexclusive, and noncommercial right to access and view this electronic publication, and purchaser agrees to do so only in accordance with the terms of use under which it was purchased or transmitted. Participation in or encouragement of piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of author’s and publisher’s rights is strictly prohibited.
Dedication
FOR TANTE SYLVIA
Who loved this magically wonderful city as much as I do.
CONTENTS
Endorsements
Books by Rachel McMillan
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Epilogue
Discussion Questions
Author’s Note
About the Author
Herringford and Watts Mysteries
About the Publisher
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
My thanks go to…
Gerry and Kathleen McMillan, for the constant support.
The Harvest House team. I so enjoy working with you.
My lovely Maisie. Tante Rachel loves you.
Allison Pittman and Sonja Spaetzel. I am so blessed to have friends like you. Thanks for talking me off many a ledge with this manuscript.
Kathleen Kerr, for many a golden moment.
William Bell, who on
ce included me in the acknowledgments section of one of his books, and who I wish were here to experience my returning the favor.
Thanks also to Jared and Sarah McMillan, Leah and Ken Polonenko, Ruth Samsel, Maureen Jennings, Melanie Fishbane, Tim Jolly, and Lin-Manuel Miranda.
There’s an east wind coming all the same, such a wind as never blew on England yet. It will be cold and bitter, Watson, and a good many of us may wither before its blast. But it’s God’s own wind none the less, and a cleaner, better stronger land will lie in the sunshine when the storm has cleared.
Arthur Conan Doyle, His Last Bow
It is our duty to let Great Britain know and to let the friends and foes of Great Britain know that there is in Canada but one mind and one heart and that all Canadians are behind the Mother Country.
Sir Wilfrid Laurier
CHAPTER ONE
Statement and Values of the Cartier Club,
Signed 14 Elm Street, Toronto, Ontario
August 1, 1914
In addition to supporting community causes and advocating for health and housing reform, the Cartier Club strives to provide newly arrived residents of Toronto with a seamless integration into the city. Fair wages and equal treatment for women and childcare have been added to the growing list of immediate reformation and necessity.
God save the King.
War was on the tip of Merinda Herringford’s tongue. The longer the Cartier Club meeting droned on, the more frequently her gaze wandered through the large windows of the third-floor meeting room of the Arts and Letters Club in hopes of catching a glimpse of the clock on the red tower shooting straight up from the grand, redbrick building at nearby City Hall. When she first joined the club, at Jasper’s request, she was chuffed to be the only female in a conglomeration of well-meaning and socially progressive men. Now she stifled a yawn derived from boredom rather than exhaustion. How could one be bored when the world was shifting on its axis? She decided to play at observation.
“If tonight’s ultimatum’s result is war—” Horace Milbrook’s small voice clashed with his large glasses and wide eyes, “then we can expect that Mayor Montague will use this as an opportunity to extend his power even further. I am determined to use his almost certain precautions—which we can guarantee will see his Morality Squad in full force preying not just on women, but on any immigrant with a tie to one of the enemy countries—to further my own campaign.” Merinda noticed the arm on the right side of his spectacles was attached to the frame with string. Then she noticed the cuffs on his suit had been recently retailored. Milbrook needed to win the election when he ran against Montague in the coming months if only to keep himself and his family above water.
“An election during the inevitable war.” Constable Jasper Forth gave a low whistle, reclining in his chair. Merinda couldn’t credit Sherlock Holmes for her deciphering the message in Jasper’s body language. She was too familiar with the mannerisms of her longtime friend. He leaned back to overcompensate for the uneasiness he felt at the looming changes before them.
“It will skew everyone’s decision on our candidates thus far,” said Reverend Ethan Talbot. Merinda noticed nothing different about the minister. He maintained his level, pragmatic tone.
“What might that mean?” Jasper asked, studying the stern countenances of the men around the ornamented oak table.
“I suspect that will mean some sort of illegal enterprise with Thaddeus Spenser.”
“Arms smuggling and munitions?” Merinda positively twinkled. “How exciting!” She traded playing Sherlock Holmes to paying close attention.
“I should think rather devastating,” Dr. William Alexander countered.
“I have recently met our new British war agent.” The editor of the Globe and Mail, Alexander Waverley, entered the conversation. “His name is Philip Carr. He was sent here to assess how fit Canada’s largest city is for war. He’s often seen with Sir Henry Pelham.”
“I’ve seen his name in the papers,” Jasper said.
Every paper, including the Hogtown Herald, the lowest on the rung of the city’s journalistic hierarchy, had been fascinated with the Boer war hero Pelham and his wife, Lady Adelaide, especially during the construction of castle-like Pelham Park, their home built on a high vantage point over the city’s core. The Hog’s photos, in particular so varied and alluring, had been gaining photographer Skip McCoy a lot of attention.
“He has an office at City hall,” Waverley said.
“Not the Armories?” Horace Milbrook’s eyebrow shot up.
“Montague decided it would be better to have him nearby. Especially if he decides that he needs to put extra measures in place. You know how much Montague respects Pelham.”*
“It’s exciting to speak about the potential of war,” Dr. Alexander said, intervening. “But I would like to direct us back to the tuberculosis encasements and children’s nursing stations on Elizabeth Street.”
Merinda noticed, as per usual, that the doctor was well prepared to share his tactics and opinions. While her gaze kept drifting, she kept one ear attuned to the conversation around the table and became especially interested when Alexander spoke to the care they were taking in preventing Ward families from providing their children with diseased cow milk. He spoke of methods of pasteurization and the testing facilities and laboratories he was establishing. Conditions in the Ward were slowly progressing with his free seminars on sanitation and his footing the bill for several initiatives for clean water, but the men in the flophouses on Frederick Street still suffered while the immigrant women and children were placed first.
Alexander was still speaking of further improvements when the club turned at the sound of the heavy mahogany door creaking open on old hinges. Behind it, Ray DeLuca stood dabbing at his perspiration-sheened forehead with his rolled up sleeve. “Sorry I am late.”
“I suppose the Hog is busy with a contingency plan should we declare war this evening,” Jasper said, looking at Ray.
Ray dropped into a chair adjacent to Merinda. “We are doing what we can, but we all know that the Globe, the Star, and the Tely (here, Ray looked pointedly at Alexander Waverley) will doubtless be the immediate source.”
Ethan Talbot smiled. “We all started somewhere, Ray.”
“Your choices are the brave choices,” Waverley said. “Your prose runs a bit hyperbolic at times, which I think you know, but do not underestimate the readership you have, nor the voice that speaks for a part of Toronto’s infrastructure. Reporting will change during the war. I guarantee it.” Alexander chuckled and reached for his water. “For example, I have recently hired a young woman. With so many men promising to enlist, including some of my own reporters, I need to ensure that I have a contingency plan. Her name is Martha Kingston, late of the Montreal Gazette. She has a reputation for being a bit of a corker. Suffragette and all that. But she’ll go after a story. Trail it. And it will be nice to get the ladies’ perspective.” He looked at Merinda. “Home front charity and all that. If we go to war.”
Ray’s eyes had widened the moment Waverley mentioned an anticipated change of staff, and Jasper must have noticed, for he said with an encouraging nod at his friend, “You know, sir, Ray cannot enlist on account of his having lost part of his hearing.”
“Is that right?” Waverley said, shifting as if cornered.
“Left ear,” Ray said. “When on assignment in Chicago.”
Jasper and Merinda exchanged a look. Ray wasn’t necessarily on assignment so much as looped into foiling an anarchist plot and a bank robbery involving his brother-in-law.†
The clock ticked several moments longer until the attendees were far too wired with the looming ultimatum to think of the rest of the day’s business.
Jasper, Merinda, and Ray soon spilled out from the Arts and Letters Club and into the blazing sun.
Alexander Waverley intercepted them, a folded newspaper under his arm. “I thought you might enjoy this, Miss Herringford,” he said with a kind smile before handing he
r the paper, tipping his bowler, and crossing Elm Street.
Merinda unfolded it and noticed a picture of herself and Jem on the front page under the magnanimous headline: TORONTO’S WARD DETECTIVES BECOME NATIONAL CELEBRITIES.
“Impressive,” said Ray. Since Jem and Merinda had returned from Chicago two summers previously, they had found a growing celebrity, and no longer were their stories exclusives to the Hog. While his own paper still sold, Ray missed the increase in sales whenever his lady detectives were responsible for solving a particularly prolific case. They had been appropriated by the city as a whole.
“What a picture!” Jasper said, looking over Merinda’s shoulder.
It was, indeed, a rather striking preservation of a triumphant moment. Merinda, in a tilted bowler and loose cotton shirt and trousers, looked straight at the camera with just a phantom of her Cheshire grin hovering over her curved lips. Jemima’s light eyes blazed through the image, her high cheekbones and bow-shaped mouth perfectly captured by the photographer’s lens.
“Now there’s a woman,” a voice said from behind Ray’s shoulder.
“Russell!” Jasper turned in recognition. “Merinda, Ray, you must meet Russell St. Clair. He’s been newly assigned to my station. He transferred from Hamilton. The best part of his being here is that we might finally win the policeman’s baseball pennant!” Jasper playfully slapped Russell on the back. “He’s a cracker jacks short stop!”
“Well, I wouldn’t go so far to say—”
Merinda cocked her head. “I assume when you said, ‘Now there’s a woman,’ you were of course referring to myself?”
St. Clair was unfazed. “Of course. But I also meant the rather striking Miss Watts. I must confess that my interest in your amateur detective agency is heightened whenever there is a photograph of your lovely associate.” (The way he said amateur made Merinda wrinkle her nose.) He extended his hand. “Miss Herringford.”