A Poisoning In Piccadilly

by Lynda Wilcox

  Tilly’s naming system was a throwback to the rooms at Rowsley Park, the family estate in Derbyshire, as well as Bakewell House, their London Residence, both of which had morning rooms, withdrawing rooms, and family rooms.

  “Good morning, Ann. I didn’t expect to see you up and about so early.”

  Ann, pacing up and down in front of the fireplace, flashed her a glance.

  “How could I possibly sleep, knowing that I could be clapped in irons at any moment?” She ran a hand through her hair, leaving it in disarray.

  “Whatever for?”

  “Murder, of course. That dolt of a police inspector thinks I murdered Eisenbach.”

  “What? That’s ridiculous. Sit down, dear, and don’t be so silly.”

  Eleanor took a seat herself and pushed the cigarette box across the occasional table in her friend’s direction.

  “I’m serious, Eleanor.” Ann reached for a cigarette and fitted it into her holder. “After you’d gone last night — or this morning, or whenever it was — he really put the thumbscrews on. I tell you, he thinks I did it.” She rummaged through her bag. “Oh drat! I’ve left my cigarette lighter at home. May I borrow yours?”

  “Of course.” Eleanor looked about for her own bag, of which there was no sign, and rang for Tilly.

  “I took it for cleaning, my lady. It was grubby with a mark on one side, so I’ve given it a sponge.”

  “In that case, will you either find my lighter, or fetch Lady Ann a box of Vestas, please. She also needs a cup of coffee while you’re about it.”

  With the maid sent about her errand, Eleanor turned her attention back to her visitor.

  “Please, Ann, sit down and calm down. Tilly won’t be long and then you can tell me exactly what Chief Inspector Blount said.”

  “Yes, all right.” Ann’s tone was grudging. “Thank you.” She collapsed into the armchair by the side of the fire.

  “I can’t give you long. I’m having lunch at one o’clock with Laura Welling. I daren’t miss it, she’s only in town for a few days and we’ve a lot of catching up to do. Still, it’s only round in the Strand, so it won’t take me long to get there.”

  Ann nodded absently and fiddled with her cigarette. “Um hum.”

  “Okay, then. Spill it. What did Blount say to put the fear of the Almighty into you like this?”

  “First of all, he asked how I knew Eisenbach and why I had invited him.”

  “And?”

  “And I told him what I told you. I had the idea of opening up a party planning service in New York, like the one I run over here, and that’s when I met the family. To start with that was only Howard and Carolyne, but later I was introduced to the old man.”

  Henry was hardly that, Eleanor thought. “I thought Mr Eisenbach lived in Pittsburgh.”

  Ann brushed the town aside with a wave of a manicured hand. “Oh, the steel works is there, and I believe Henry spent a lot of time there, but they have offices and an apartment in New York as well, which is where the younger Eisenbachs tend to hang out.”

  “I see, and the plan to set up in New York?”

  A shrug. “Came to nothing. I was unable to find a suitable business partner. I — ah! Thank you, Tilly.”

  She broke off as the maid returned with a cup of fragrant coffee and a box of matches.

  “You mentioned trying to interest Howard Eisenbach in a business venture. Was it the same one?”

  “Um hum.” Ann finally lit her cigarette and puffed away. “I was hoping to persuade him to invest. He must have plenty of money, though I doubt he will have the sense to put it my way. I told that fool of a policeman all this, but he didn’t seem to listen.”

  Unconvinced that Chief Inspector Blount was the fool Ann thought him, Eleanor merely nodded.

  “Besides,” Ann added, “if that were my motive for murder, then it would be Howard not his father who got poisoned.”

  “Perhaps, although I can’t see you murdering anyone with poison. You’re more the hot-headed, fly-at-them-with-a-paper-knife type, I’d say.”

  “Charming! A fine friend you are,” Ann said, but she laughed.

  “So what else did Chief Inspector Blount have to say to you?”

  Ann stubbed out her cigarette and instantly took a fresh one from Eleanor’s box.

  “He’s demanded I give him a list of all the guests at last night’s party.”

  “Demanded?”

  “Well, asked me to supply him with such a list, which amounts to the same thing. “ She flicked ash into the fireplace. “The nerve of the man.”

  Eleanor hastened to reassure her friend. “I shouldn’t worry. I would have thought that was purely routine. Blount is hardly likely to use it to set up his own party planning service. Besides, the murderer might have managed to leave the Rudolph before the police arrived, so they’ll need to know who was there.”

  “Except I don’t invite murderers to my parties,” Ann snapped. “The very idea is preposterous and that horrid policeman seemed very keen to pin the whole thing on me. This could ruin my business.”

  “It didn’t do much for Mr Eisenbach, either.”

  Eleanor’s sardonic tone was lost on Ann. “You’ve got to do something, Eleanor. I could be arrested at any moment. Oh, God.” Her eyes widened. “They’ll hang me if I’m convicted.”

  “Stop it. Stop being so silly. Stiff upper lip and all that.” Beginning to lose patience, Eleanor helped herself to a cigarette before Ann smoked them all and scowled. “Anyway what exactly do you think I can do about it?”

  “You could investigate.” Ann leaned forward. “Yes, that’s it, you can find out who the real murderer is.”

  “I don’t see how...”

  “By talking to people and asking them questions, of course. They'd far rather talk to a titled lady than a policeman. You’re much better at that sort of thing than I am, and you know how to deal with policemen and authority figures. Remember the night that copper stopped us for speeding?”

  Strictly speaking, he’d stopped Ann for the excessive speed, Eleanor had merely been a passenger, but she nodded.

  “Yes, I remember.”

  “And you apologised and said that I was rushing to get you to a hospital because your relative was seriously ill, but it was only just around the corner and we’d drive slower. Then he said, he was sorry to hear it and hoped for a speedy recovery, but to take things a bit steadier in future.” Ann gave a peal of laughter and clapped her hands. “Priceless!”

  Eleanor had not thought it so, and her one recollection was of guilt at the deception she’d employed. She had been younger then, of course, it had been just after the war when deception of a far more perilous and desperate necessity had sometimes been called for.

  Lying for King and Country was one thing. Lying to save the reckless Lady Carstairs from a charge of driving too fast was quite another.

  “Well, I’ve no intention of telling fibs on your behalf when it comes to murder, Ann.”

  “Oh, but you could investigate. Please.” Ann’s wheedling voice jarred despite the winsome face.

  “Well, there is one thing about Eisenbach’s death that strikes me as odd.”

  “What’s that?”

  Eleanor glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece. “Sorry, Ann, not now. I really do have to go, or I’m going to be late for my lunch date. I’ll give you a call tomorrow.”

  Chapter 5

  It wasn’t until several hours later, back in Bellevue Mansions, that Eleanor had the opportunity to mull over that possible oddity of Eisenbach’s death.

  She agreed with the doctor that the American had been poisoned, and although no expert on the subject, her guess was that a form of belladonna had been the agent — his sudden lack of balance, the slurring of his speech and enlarged pupils all seemed to point that way.

  So when had it been administered? How quick acting was belladonna? The doctor would be able to tell her, and she made a note to ask Ann for his name and telephone number. It woul
d also help to know exactly when the Eisenbach family had arrived at the Rudolph.

  As for the motive behind the killing, that might be harder to uncover and something probably best left to the police.

  Ann was right when she said that people would prefer to talk to an English aristocrat than be grilled by the police, but Eleanor lacked the police’s authority. What right had she to go asking questions, probing into people’s private lives merely to satisfy a morbid curiosity?

  Did the Chief Inspector really believe Ann or herself had committed the crime? Surely not, in which case, why should she want to get to involved in this?

  The answer to that was obvious.

  Eleanor prowled around the living room trying to forget the feeling of the limp and heavy figure in her arms.

  I could always go and pay my respects to the bereaved, she thought. The Ritz is only just along the way and I could walk there. It’s close to tea time and I can’t imagine that Howard or Carolyne will refuse to see me.

  She should strike while the iron was hot, before the awful events of the previous evening had had a chance to sink in. Besides, they might decide to up sticks and go home.

  With this settled, Eleanor told Tilly to fetch their coats and the pair set off down Piccadilly.

  It would not have been seemly to hurry, but that same frigid wind of the day before played around their ears and nipped at their ankles. Eleanor maintained a brisk pace.

  The Ritz always made the greatest of efforts to make its guests feel at home. It had a cosy feel, more like a club than a hotel, and its bars and salons, and especially the famous Palm Court serving ‘Tea at the Ritz’, were frequented by all in high society. Major film stars, rich Americans, even British royalty could be found dining in any of its six restaurants.

  “I have a little job for you, Tilly,” Eleanor said, once they were inside the opulent lobby.

  “What sort of a job, my lady?”

  Eleanor took a half-crown coin from her purse and pressed it into her maid’s hand.

  “Go and get yourself a cup of tea and try and discover all you can about Mr Eisenbach and his family. Ask the staff what they thought of them, whether they ever saw or heard anything funny.”

  “Anything that might lead to murder, you mean?”

  “Yes, but be discreet. If anyone wants to know why you’re asking, just pretend you’re very nosy or something.”

  Tilly nodded. “If this is like the things we did during the war then I know the drill.”

  Eleanor’s smiling face grew stern. She put a finger to her lips. “It’s been five years since the end of the war, but remember, we still aren’t allowed to talk about it, at least not in public. Official secrets and all that.”

  “Yes, my lady.”

  “Right, I don’t know how long I’ll be. I’ll find you once I’m finished with the Eisenbachs.”

  Tilly trooped off to the Tea Room and Eleanor gave her card to the receptionist and was shown up to the Regal Suite on the first floor. This same set of luxurious and elegant rooms had welcomed no less a person than the actor Charlie Chaplin when he had stayed in London two years previously, but Eleanor wasn't expecting comedy on this visit.

  “Oh, do come in, Lady Eleanor. How kind of you to call.”

  Carolyne looked pale, and dark circles lurked under tired eyes, though Eisenbach’s daughter could hardly be said to be prostrated with grief as she stood back and invited her guest in.

  She motioned Eleanor to a leather Chesterfield sofa, then draped herself elegantly over a chaise longue.

  “I’m sorry to bother you at such a sad and difficult time,” Eleanor said, “but I wanted to call and pay my respects to you and your brother, and offer any help that I may. If I can be of any service to you, you only have to ask.”

  Carolyne shook her dark head. She appeared bemused that someone she’d met only the once would turn up to tender assistance, yet Eleanor could think of nothing worse than being suddenly bereaved and far from home. It was a genuine offer despite any ulterior motive that might lie behind it.

  “Thank you, Lady Eleanor. I can’t think of anything at the moment, but then we’re all in shock. I still can’t believe it. The police are saying that it’s murder, but who would want to murder Dad?”

  Her voice had a pleasing drawl.

  “It does seem most unlikely,” Eleanor concurred, though a rich man might have enemies anywhere. “Do you know anyone in London?”

  “No one, apart from Lady Ann, who we met in New York. Dad probably has business contacts here, he has them all over, but we came for a holiday. He promised us that he was going to relax and not think about work.” A small sob escaped her. “He worked so hard that Howard and I barely saw him.”

  “I’m so sorry. Were you close to your father?”

  “Ha! Hardly. Like I said, we spent very little time with him. He was always too busy for me and Howard.”

  Eleanor glanced around. “Is your brother not here, Miss Eisenbach?”

  “Oh, do call me Carolyne. You Brits can be so formal.” She plucked at a silken cushion under her elbow. “And Howard’s out. He’s gone to our solicitor’s London office to find out what arrangements we need to make.”

  “I suppose there must be a lot to do,” Eleanor said, artlessly.

  “Probably.” Carolyne sat up. “Would you like tea? We could have tea for two.”

  She let out a peal of laughter and raised the receiver on the phone sitting on a Louis Quinze table to her side.

  Eleanor accepted the offer, though she thought the laughter misplaced. Grief took many forms and Eleanor was no stranger to it herself, but Carolyne’s behaviour was mercurial and might be due to drink or drugs as much as bereavement.

  While they waited for the tea to arrive, Carolyne bemoaned the fact that she would now have to buy a new wardrobe all in black, complaining that it was not a colour that suited her.

  “And I only went clothes shopping the other day in Bond Street.”

  “I can give you the address of my own dressmaker, or have her call on you, if you’d prefer.”

  “Oh, would you?” Carolyne brightened at the offer. “That would be ideal, and very kind of you. I’ve no idea where to go for anything I might need.”

  “You could try asking them here at the hotel, and you can be sure that the people they suggest would be out of the top drawer and trustworthy. The reputation of the Ritz is second to none. You’ve also got my card and my number, now. Please feel free to call should you need help.” She gave Carolyne a warm smile. “I can recommend everything from tradespeople to restaurants, if it’s any use to you or your brother.”

  Thinking she was beginning to sound like the worst type of salesperson, Eleanor shut up and was saved from saying more by the arrival of the tea trolley. The maid who brought it poured tea into dainty china cups, then sketched a brief curtsey and departed.

  “So, what were your original plans for this trip, Carolyne? Have you been to England before?”

  “No, neither Howie or I had travelled out of the States, and it will be a damned long time before I do so again.” Carolyne’s tone was understandably acerbic. “My brother hoped to persuade Dad on a European tour, but the old man was having none of it. He said he could not afford time away from the business.”

  Eleanor sipped her tea. “When did you arrive in England?”

  “On the 27th. We spent Christmas at sea on the RMS Laconia. That was quite jolly. I think Dad wanted to go home sometime next week.” She let out a long shuddering sigh. “We’ll probably still do so, unless there’s some hold up, or Howie gets it into his head to visit Paris.”

  “Oh?”

  Carolyne replaced her cup and saucer on the trolley. “Howard’s not really interested in steel, you see. His passion is speed and the automobile industry. He was thinking of entering the Monte Carlo rally and wanted Dad to buy up a small automobile factory in upstate New York and put him in charge. Dad wouldn’t hear of it, and they had quite a row.” She yawn
ed. “I got fed up with listening to them arguing all the time.”

  Eleanor perked up at mention of an argument. Had that been a recent occurrence? “I trust their falling out didn’t spoil the holiday for you.”

  “They were bickering on and off since before we embarked on the Laconia.” She leaned forward, hands on her knees. “It’s funny how things work out. At one point I heard Howard muttering that he’d murder Dad himself if he didn’t let him have what he wanted.”

  Eleanor coughed, almost choking on her tea.

  “Oh, he didn’t mean it. Howard’s all talk. I let them get on with it.”

  Unlike the girl on the couch who waved an airy hand dismissing her menfolk, Eleanor did not treat the threat with the same level of sangfroid. An interview with Howard became a matter of some urgency.

  In the meantime she carried on with polite conversation and gentle questions. “Are you interested in cars, Carolyne?”

  “Not to that extent, though I can drive. Both Howard and I have our own vehicles, but I don’t race mine. Howard wants to become a racing driver, or so he’s said.”

  “It’s quite fun, actually,” Eleanor said. “I’m a member myself of the Royal Automobile Club and have taken part in a few time trials, and driven a few circuits at Brooklands. I’d have gladly taken him there if things had been different.”

  “Ha! He’ll probably still take you up on the offer once he knows you’ve made it. What make of automobile do you drive?”

  “I have a Lagonda.” Eleanor’s eyes shone. “It’s a beautiful machine, and very handy when I need to drive home to the family estate. I load everything into the back with my maid, and I can be there within the day.”

  “Is it far?”

  “Not in comparison with distances in the States. It’s around one hundred and sixty miles or so, but a lot of it is along winding country lanes and driving is so much more convenient than taking the train.”

  For the last few minutes Eleanor had become aware of sounds coming from the next room and wondered who it could be. A servant perhaps? She couldn’t imagine the Eisenbachs travelling without at least a valet and a maid, yet Carolyne had opened the door herself on Eleanor’s arrival.