A Poisoning In Piccadilly

by Lynda Wilcox

  She heard the throaty roar of the Bugatti’s engine and saw it speed off down the drive while chatting to Clara and fondling the soft ear of a soppy black Labrador. An elderly Cairn terrier fell asleep on her left foot which she gently extricated twenty minutes later when the car returned.

  “Do you mind if I go and see how they’re getting on?”

  “Not in the slightest, dear.” Clara Ripley was the peer’s second wife and somewhat younger than her husband. “It will give me the chance to collect the children and deposit them in the nursery while we have lunch.”

  Thus excused, Eleanor took herself out to the garage, joining Howard and George at the point they were shaking hands again.

  “Is it all sorted and satisfactory?” she asked.

  “Sure thing.”

  “Yes, thank you, Eleanor dear. I’m satisfied that Betty here” — Lord Ripley kicked at a front tyre — “is going to a good home.”

  Eleanor smiled, as much at the fact that Lord Ripley named his cars after women as at the successful outcome of the venture.

  “Actually,” Howard said, attempting to tame his windswept hair with his fingers, “I’m not sure where home is going to be yet. If I’m going to race the beast over here, perhaps I’d be better off finding somewhere to store it, rather than having it shipped home.” He looked from one to the other of his English companions. “What do you think?”

  “It does seem silly to go to the trouble and expense of shipping it to the States, only to ship it back for racing,” Eleanor said.

  “Absolutely, old boy.” George lifted the front panel, exposing the engine. The three of them peered inside. “Why don’t you leave it here? At least until you find a garage or somewhere to house it. We’re not that far from London. You can collect it at any time, or I’ll even bring Betty to you if I’m around at the time.”

  “Gee, that’d be swell!”

  On the drive home after an excellent lunch, Howard expressed himself well pleased with his purchase.

  “I’ll arrange for a banker’s draft just as soon as we get back to town. His lordship drove a hard bargain, but I reckon it was worth it.”

  “I’m delighted that it worked out so well for you both.”

  “Yeah, well, he’s a nice old boy. I enjoyed talking to him, and he knows his stuff when it comes to automobiles. He even encouraged me to buy that factory in the States and make a go of it. I wish Dad would have done that.”

  His voice was gruff. Eleanor glanced to the side. A tear ran down Howard’s cheek, though whether through sorrow or the effect of the wind, she couldn’t tell.

  She placed a hand briefly on his arm. “I’m so sorry, Howard.”

  “It’s only just beginning to sink in, I think. Oh, I know I had my disagreements with the old man, but I can’t imagine life without him.”

  Eleanor lifted her foot from the accelerator pedal, slowing the Lagonda, and giving them a little more time now that Howard had started to open up.

  “Howard, have you any idea who could have murdered your father?”

  “No. I can’t understand it at all.”

  “What did he have to eat and drink on New Year’s Eve?”

  He twisted in his seat to look at her. “You’re wondering how the poison got into him?”

  “Yes. Haven't you? I don’t think it was anything he drank at the party. It must have been earlier.”

  “Uh huh.” He nodded. “Well, we all had breakfast together.”

  “All? Including your staff?”

  “Well, no, they ate separately. I meant me, Dad, and Carolyne.”

  “Did he eat anything that you didn’t?”

  Howard thought about this, then shook his head. “I’m sure he didn’t. He had his usual breakfast, two rashers of bacon, two eggs, two slices of toast, and two cups of coffee. Carolyne only had toast and marmalade. I had the same as Dad.”

  “All right, what about lunch?”

  “Hmm, yeah, that’s a possibility. He went out, said he had some business to conduct and that he’d have something when he got back.”

  “Was he alone?”

  “Yeah, and I don’t know what the business was or where he went.”

  “All right, go on.”

  “Well, he got back to our room at around two-thirty, I guess. Carolyne asked if he’d eaten, and he said yes, but had a touch of heartburn. He went to his bedroom for a lie down.”

  Eleanor’s eyes narrowed. This was the first she had heard of Eisenbach senior suffering from indigestion.

  “Was your father prone to stomach upsets?”

  “No, not often. He usually ate like a horse and with no ill effects.”

  At last she had some new, and possibly pertinent, information, but was the indigestion an effect of the poison — or was the poison in the remedy?

  Chapter 13

  Eleanor parked that question out of the way for a time while she negotiated her way though the narrow traffic-clogged streets of Hatfield.

  Howard was still talking about his father.

  “Of course, Carolyne is feeling it, too.”

  Busy overtaking a horse-drawn dray loaded with bricks, Eleanor did not respond immediately.

  “Sorry, what was that you said about Carolyne?” she asked when they were past and the road ahead lay clear again.

  “We both had arguments with Dad in the weeks before he died. Carolyne had set her heart on a guy that Dad disapproved of. She was inconsolable and they rowed incessantly. I think one of the reasons he suggested this trip was to take her mind off the affair. He hoped she might meet someone else and forget about the guy in New York. Dad’s death has really hit her hard and I know she regretting the harsh words that passed between them.” He shook his head, and out of the corner of her eye, Eleanor saw him put up a hand to wipe his cheek again. “I guess I feel the same.”

  A thoughtful Eleanor drove them back towards the capital. She felt a degree of surprise at Howard’s frankness and show of emotion, and then berated herself for it. On such short acquaintance, she was in no position to judge him.

  “Would you like to go to Brooklands, Howard?” she asked softly. “I could pick you up the day after tomorrow.”

  “Yes, I’d like that very much. Thank you, Lady Eleanor. It’s been real sweet of you to do so much for me, arranging for me to buy Lord Ripley’s car, and all.”

  “Nonsense, you arranged that between the two of you. All I did was introduce you and be the taxi service.”

  He smiled. “Shame we don’t have cab drivers as pretty as you in New York.”

  Eleanor felt her cheeks warm. She hadn’t expected compliments.

  As they reached the outskirts of London traffic started to increase, slowing their progress even further. She switched to the back streets, taking a short cut that brought them out at the top of Piccadilly. Here she dropped off Tilly to go into the apartment, lay a fire, and start preparing a meal, then she drove the short distance to the Ritz.

  “Hello? What’s this?” Howard leaned forward, peering through the windscreen, the better to see the small knot of people descending from a taxi outside the hotel.

  Eleanor recognised Carolyne and Jensen, and assumed the two with them to be Mam’selle Leclerc and Golding, the valet.

  “I wonder what they are all doing out together,” said Howard.

  Pulling the car to the kerb level with Carolyne and the staff, Eleanor leaned out.

  “Hello. I’ve brought your brother home.”

  “And about time,” Carolyne snapped. She turned her head to scowl at her brother. “Trust you to get out of it.”

  “Get out of what?” Howard stayed in the Lagonda. Leaning over Eleanor, he grinned at his sister.

  “We’ve all had to go to Scotland Yard. The police had us there for over an hour, questioning us about Dad’s death. I hope that attorney you saw handles criminal cases, because the way that Chief Inspector sounded we are going to need a lawyer pretty soon.”

  Howard scratched his forehead. �
�Gee, this sounds bad. I don’t know. The police will want to see me, I suppose.”

  Carolyne shrugged. “I’ve no idea. They didn’t say so. It seems you’re free to swan off whenever or wherever you please.”

  “But what did they want this time?”

  “Oh, they are still going on about Dad’s death being murder and they’re trying to stick it on us. I told them he probably had a heart attack after the excitement of dancing with a real English lady.”

  The sneer in Carolyne’s voice was unmistakeable. Eleanor wanted to get out of the car and slap her. She stayed where she was, caught between the siblings.

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” It was Howard’s turn to scowl. “And don’t be so rude. You’re showing us up.”

  “Maybe that’s because I’ve had one hell of an afternoon.” She lifted her chin and, turning her back on the pair in the car, walked up the steps and into the hotel. Mam’selle Leclerc scuttled after her.

  “Is it true the police have questioned you all, Jensen?” Howard at last got out of the Lagonda and walked around the front of the car to join the two men.

  “Indeed, Mr Howard, sir.” It was the valet who responded. Jensen merely gave a curt nod.

  “All right. You two go up, I’ll be there in a moment.” He turned to Eleanor. “I’m sorry about this, and I apologise for my sister’s rudeness. I’d better see what it’s all about. Thank you, for a wonderful day. I’ve enjoyed myself immensely.”

  “You’re most welcome.” Eleanor had enjoyed the day, too. When he wasn’t being irascible Howard was a fascinating and charming companion and one she would very much like to spend more time with. “If we are still on for Brooklands, then I’ll pick you up around ten the day after tomorrow. Give me a call if you have to change plans. Carolyne has my card and number. I hope you manage to sort things out with the police.”

  She waved a hand, then spun the car around, and drove back to Bellevue Mansions.

  Tilly helped her off with her coat and served tea, which Eleanor drank by the side of the fire. She kicked off her low-heeled driving shoes and relaxed.

  A short time later, when Tilly returned to collect the tea things, she found her mistress asleep and carried the tray quietly away without so much as a rattle or chink of a teacup.

  Eleanor awoke feeling refreshed and called for her maid.

  “If you aren’t too busy in the kitchen, come and talk to me. It’s been an interesting day and I’d like to discuss it with you.”

  “Very well, my lady.”

  Tilly took a seat on the sofa while Eleanor told her about the little scene outside the Ritz, including the comments made by Carolyne Eisenbach. They did not go down well with her maid.

  “What rudeness. How dare she? She almost accused you of killing her father. That young lady needs to learn some manners.”

  “To be fair, Tilly, she was very upset, and she’s grieving for her father, don’t forget.”

  Tilly was not to be moved. “That’s no excuse.”

  “Yes, it is. I have a lot of sympathy for her. I’ve been on the receiving end of a police interrogation, too. It was bad enough without also mourning the loss of my father.” She chewed at her lower lip. “ I do wonder, though, what Chief Inspector Blount wanted with them, and whether the police have uncovered something new.”

  “Well, they ain’t going to tell you, if they have” said Tilly, matter-of-factly.

  Eleanor sighed. “True.”

  “I can think of one rather obvious reason for getting them together at Scotland Yard, though.”

  “You can?” Eleanor’s brow wrinkled until the penny dropped. “Of course. With everyone away from the Ritz, the police could go in and search the suite. Hmm. They’ve left that a bit late though, I would have thought.”

  “That depends. They have if they are looking for poison. If the killer’s got any sense that will be long gone. Maybe they were after other evidence.”

  “Such as?”

  “Didn’t you say that Chief Inspector Blount asked you about an envelope?”

  Eleanor leaned forward and held out a hand to the fire. “That’s right, he did. I’d forgotten about that.”

  “Maybe that’s what they were searching the suite for, then.”

  “Yes, that makes sense. I wonder what was in it.”

  Tilly shook her head. “Ah, there your guess is as good as mine. There is one person you’re forgetting, though.”

  “Oh, who’s that?”

  “Major Armitage.”

  “Oh!” Eleanor sat back with an unladylike curse. “Damn. Yes, his involvement does put a different slant on things.”

  “If he’s involved,” Tilly stressed. “Although I can’t see why he was at Scotland Yard during your interview if he’s not.”

  Eleanor gave an absent nod, her mind taken up with new possibilities.

  “What was Eisenbach really doing in London? According to Howard, his father went out on New Year’s Eve to conduct some business. Maybe that’s where Military Intelligence comes into it.”

  “If his business was secret, you’re never going to find that out.”

  Tilly sounded glum and Eleanor smiled. “Oh, never say die, Tilly.”

  She got up and went to the phone, asking the operator to connect her to the Ritz Hotel.

  “I would like to speak to Miss Carolyne Eisenbach in the Royal Suite, please. This is Lady Eleanor Bakewell calling.”

  It took a few moments before Carolyne picked up the receiver.

  “Hello, is that you, Lady Eleanor?

  Her voice was soft and slightly tinny. It sounded as if she’d been crying.

  “Yes, dear. How are you?”

  “Howard tells me I was very rude to you earlier and that I should apologise, so I’m sorry.”

  “That’s quite all right. From what you said I deduced you’d had a fraught afternoon.”

  “That’s putting it mildly. Anyway, what can I do for you?”

  “Are you observing a period of mourning, or would you like to go out this evening? Just the two of us. I know a great nightclub in Old Bond Street that might help relieve some of the stress of the day.”

  “That sounds great. I’ve got a black dress I can wear if anyone quibbles, and I sure could do with a break.”

  Eleanor agreed with the latter sentiment, though in an entirely different context.

  “All right, then, Carolyne. I’ll call for you at your hotel around nine o’clock. The place doesn’t really start to get busy until gone eleven, so we won’t have any trouble getting in.”

  And it should be quiet and secluded enough for Eleanor’s purposes.

  Satisfied with the outcome of her call, she put the handset back on its stand and went back to her seat by the fire.

  Chapter 14

  Wearing a cornflower blue dress that matched her eyes, and with a dab of Chanel no. 5 at throat and neck, Eleanor walked beside Carolyne into the semi-darkness of the Embassy Club.

  Here they were greeted by Luigi, the urbane proprietor, who bowed deeply over Eleanor’s hand.

  “Delighted to see you again, your ladyship. It is early yet, and quiet, do you wish a table by the dance floor?”

  “No, no. Quiet is good, thank you, Luigi. We may dance later.”

  He bowed his head in assent, smiled a welcome at Carolyne, and signalled to a waiter who led them to a free table.

  They made themselves comfortable and ordered a Gin Rickey for Carolyne and a Sidecar for Eleanor.

  “I take it from your visit to Scotland Yard earlier today that the police haven’t solved your father’s murder, yet,” Eleanor asked as they waited for the drinks to arrive.

  Carolyne shook her head, setting the feather in her hairband fluttering. “I’m beginning to think they never will. Eventually, they’ll have to let us return to the States, they can’t hold us here indefinitely. Our Ambassador was going to have words with your Chief Constable or whatever the top policeman’s called.”

  “Then let’s hope
it’s soon sorted for you.”

  Upon the small stage, the enthusiastic orchestra were well into a selection of tunes. The dance floor held plenty of space for athletic types to dance the Shimmy and the Heeby-Jeeby, though only a few couples occupied it. Later it would be filled with the cream of high society.

  Carolyne surveyed the dancers with a practised eye, one toe tapping in time to the music.

  “I feel exhausted just watching them,” she said.

  “I know what you mean,” Eleanor agreed. “If I was expending that much energy this early in the evening, I’d want to be tucked up in bed by midnight.”

  Although, after what had happened the last time, Eleanor doubted she would ever dance again. Then she noticed Carolyne’s raised eyebrow.

  “Alone,” she added.

  “Hey, that’s your business.” Carolyne waved a hand. “I take it, then, that you aren’t married, Lady Eleanor.”

  Delighted that they had got onto the topic of men so quickly, Eleanor shook her head.

  “Not yet. I'm a lady in my own right as the daughter of a duke, not because I'm married to a lord. What about you? Any boyfriends?”

  Expecting to see her companions face fall, or darken with anger, Eleanor was surprised when it lit up in a happy grin.

  “Yes. I shall be getting married once I’ve returned to New York.”

  So, Howard’s tale of the unsuitable boyfriend that Eisenbach had sent packing must be true. Not that Eleanor had doubted it, the tale sounded all too feasible.

  “Really? Congratulations.” She raised the glass the waiter had just put in front of her.

  “Thank you. Not sure yet when it will be. I suppose it’s the one good thing to come out of Dad’s death, though I hate saying it.”

  Eleanor said nothing, nibbling on a salted peanut and surveying the younger girl who seemed to think she ought to offer something more.

  “What I mean is, I’m twenty-one and I can make my own choices in life now. I couldn’t do that while Dad was still alive.”

  “Did your father not approve of the man you are going to marry?”

  Carolyne sipped at her drink. “Unfortunately not. He maintained that Ethan only wanted me for my money, which was a preposterous claim.”