House Party Murder Rap: 1920s Historical Cozy Mystery (An Evie Parker Mystery)

by Sonia Parin

  “I didn’t mean to imply you have sloppy manners. Only that… There is a delicate balance. Conversation is kept light, casual… amiable but lively. Of course, I’m sure you can manage all that.” Feeling slightly on edge, Evie persevered. “After dinner, the ladies will withdraw to the drawing room, leaving the gentleman to smoke their cigars and drink their port. I’ve never been privy to the conversations that go on, so I’m afraid you’ll be on your own.”

  “I believe I will be capable of holding my end of it without embarrassing you… Evie.”

  “What if someone brings up the subject of investments?”

  “I would most likely mention your brother’s exemplary handling of my investments. Let’s assume it won’t come up since the English don’t really care to talk about money. But I will be prepared without going overboard with details or aspiring to pretentions I don’t possess. While independently wealthy, I’m still at heart a wildcatter.” He shrugged. “Still slightly rough around the edges and quite proud of it. It will fit with their idea of a self-made American millionaire.”

  Caro leaned in and asked in a soft murmur, “What exactly is a wildcatter?”

  “A prospector,” Evie murmured back. “They usually sink oil wells but they also participate in risky business ventures.” Which would fit in nicely with her earlier remarks to Bicky regarding wealthy Americans and their willingness to take risks.

  “What if someone suggests dancing?” Caro asked.

  Tom gave them both a brisk smile.

  Evie suspected he would have no trouble whisking her around a ballroom. “I doubt that will happen. Eventually, I believe we will tackle the subject of today’s shooting. That should take care of conversation for the rest of the evening. We will all be much too preoccupied with suppositions to even consider the idea of dancing.” Evie stopped. She only ever prattled on when she felt flustered. And she definitely felt out of sorts. Not in a dispirited way but rather…

  Evie fiddled with her bracelet. Pressing her fingers against her wrist, she felt her pulse racing. “Right… Well. I believe we now have everything sorted out.”

  “Not quite,” Tom said.

  “Oh? What else is there to discuss?”

  “I actually feel I should warn you,” he said.

  Pressing her hand to her heart, Evie asked, “Warn me? About what?”

  “My intention to discreetly question the guests.”

  Evie yelped, “Whatever for?”

  “I assume they all knew you were coming here.”

  She gave a reluctant nod.

  “I’d like to know if they mentioned it to anyone else.” Before she could object, he added, “Someone took a shot at you, not once but twice. That took some premeditation.” He took a step toward her. “Someone planned it with meticulous precision.”

  Unable to contain her shock, she burst out, “Are you suggesting the Duke of Hetherington’s guests are being held under suspicion?”

  Chapter Nine

  Pre-dinner jitters…

  Evie’s mind swirled with too much new information to the point where she couldn’t tell the difference between fact or fiction. Her otherwise monosyllabic chauffeur had strung so many sentences together, she had come close to swaying on the spot.

  Had he entertained as many thoughts while driving her around? And… and what would happen after all this business was sorted out? How could she ever reinstate the status quo between them? Never mind that she’d been trying to lower the barriers…

  In less than an hour, Mr. Tom Winchester had demolished every intangible barrier that had stood between them.

  “Do you think anyone in the household staff will recognize you as my chauffeur?” Evie asked as they strode down the stairs.

  Tom gave her a lifted eyebrow look. “You tell me, Evie.”

  Evie almost missed the next step. As much as she’d wanted Tom to abandon all formalities and address her by her first name, Evie thought she would need more time to get used to it. Not because it created social awkwardness between them but because…

  Well, because she rather liked the way her name sounded on his lips and she knew she shouldn’t because…

  Never mind why, Evie told herself and said, “We knew each other when we were young. Then, you moved away and we lost touch. That should take care of reducing the amount of detailed information we need to know about each other.”

  Reaching the bottom of the stairs, Evie placed her hand on his arm. “I think I need another minute.”

  The sound of lively chatter wafted toward them. A footman strode by carrying a tray of glasses. Another footman followed with another tray. Over the next few minutes, they watched a parade of household staff heading toward the dining room, carrying decanted wines and savory dishes which would most likely be served cold. Evie expected Larkin to appear at any minute and head toward the dining room to cast his eagle-eyed inspection over the table setting.

  A wave of laughter reached them with Bicky’s voice booming over it.

  “He certainly knows how to entertain,” Tom observed.

  “Yes, Bicky’s house parties are famous. Over the years, I’ve attended many hosted by more people than I thought I knew and his continue to stand out as the most memorable ones.”

  “I suppose this one is no exception,” Tom said.

  “No, in fact, this one beats them all, but for very different and obvious reasons.” Evie released a shuddering breath. “I hope the authorities can get to the bottom of this.”

  “If not them, then us.”

  Evie’s eyebrows rose. “You actually believe you can make some sort of progress and discover the culprit?”

  He gave a small shrug. “There’s no harm in trying. Being on the inside might give us an advantage. The different perspective could provide us with a clue that might not otherwise be available to the police.”

  Evie wondered if anyone in the village had noticed anything unusual or heard something… A passing remark, anything that might suggest someone meant to do her harm.

  “Do you remember the first swimming lesson I gave you?” Tom asked, his tone matter of fact.

  It took a moment for Evie to realize he expected her to make something up on the spot. “Y-yes, I’m sure I do. Let me think. We were at the end of the jetty. I remember we’d been picnicking by the lake and it had been an unbearably hot day. You told me to go back to the shore and wade in but I refused. I always got into trouble for defying orders. I wanted to join in the fun so I watched the others jump off the jetty and in a moment of foolish valor, I jumped in. I sunk to the bottom and when I resurfaced, you were right there by my side calling me a puppy dog and telling me to kick my legs and move my arms. Before I knew it, we had reached the shoreline, safe and sound.”

  He watched her in silence, finally he asked, “Did that really happen?”

  Evie beamed up at him. “Actually, I had a personal swimming instructor.” But she suddenly liked her made-up story better. Tilting her head in thought, she added, “If we’re asked the same question at different times and we each give a different response, I can always accuse you of seeing things through rose tinted glasses or remembering events in a way that makes you look fabulous.”

  He chuckled. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”

  Scooping in a breath, she nodded. “Let’s go in, shall we?”

  To her surprise, he gave her his arm.

  It seemed natural to slip her hand through it and rest it on his forearm. Crazy, but wonderful. “By the way, I believe the Red Sox are up against the Yankees on May 1.”

  “Did you read that in the society pages?” he asked under his breath.

  “I don’t recall… How do you think they’ll go?”

  He barely moved his lips when he said in a tight voice, “I’m sure they’ll do just fine.”

  Evie and Tom strode into the drawing room in time to hear the tail end of Bicky’s conversation.

  “…When Evie mentioned Tom had landed in London, I urged her to get in
touch with him and invite him up to Yarborough straightaway.”

  Evie leaned in and whispered, “I think His Grace has been warming up our audience.”

  At a glance, there didn’t appear to be anything wrong with the Duke. On close inspection, Evie noticed a slight bulge on his arm where the bandage had been applied. Also, his arm hung limply by his side.

  Seeing them, Bicky exclaimed, “I’ve been telling them all about you, Tom. Come on in and meet everyone. Everyone, this is Tom Winchester.”

  Evie realized they’d left out a pertinent detail.

  Tom Winchester of the Massachusetts Winchesters?

  Tom Winchester of the Oklahoma oil field Winchesters?

  Bicky played host and made proper introductions. Rather than stopping for lengthy chats, he kept Tom moving along.

  She heard Tom say to Mark Harper his arrival could not have been better timed as he’d always promised Evie’s grandmother he’d keep her safe.

  “And are you here on business for pleasure, Mr. Winchester?” Charlotte asked.

  “Tom, please. Evie has nothing but high praise for her adopted country so I thought I’d finally come and see it for myself.”

  It took Tom less than half an hour to be on first name terms with everyone, a feat he managed to accomplish with admirable ease.

  At the first opportunity, Evie slipped out and headed for the dining room to check on the place settings for the night. Wanting to do what she could, she had no intention of letting Tom out of her sight for longer than a few minutes… Just in case someone cornered him with a difficult question.

  As expected, she found his name across the table from her so she did the unthinkable and swapped place cards.

  When she returned to the drawing room, she made a beeline for Bicky.

  “I think this is going rather well,” Bicky murmured.

  “I agree. It’s almost as if he’d been born to play the role,” Evie mused and wondered how much more there could be to Tom Winchester.

  When Larkin announced dinner, they all moved toward the dining room chatting with ease and a spark of enthusiasm over the newcomer.

  As they took their places, Tom leaned in and grumbled, “Did you have anything to do with the seating arrangements?”

  “What do you mean?” Evie whispered back.

  “It is unusual to be seated next to one’s partner,” he said.

  Partner? “Fine. I might have fiddled around with the name place cards. Admit it, you would not have been pleased to have been seated next to Lady Charlotte. She does tend to go on…”

  “Was I seated next to her?” Tom asked.

  “Does it matter?”

  “It does matter since the aim is for me to make discreet inquiries.”

  Larkin approached with a platter, lowering it so Tom could help himself. Evie held her breath and wondered if Tom would know he needed to only help himself to an adequate portion and not shovel all the food in. Sighing, Evie suddenly felt like a complete and utter snob. She had no doubt Tom had already observed the butler making the rounds of the table.

  “Tom. What are your thoughts on this business of prohibition?” Lord Chambers asked.

  Evie nearly dropped her fork.

  “Generally, I think making too many rules only taunts people into finding ways to break them,” Tom said. “From what I understand, there is some concern about the possible rise in crime.”

  “And do you feel personally affected by it all?” Charlotte asked and took a long sip of her wine.

  “Where’s your interest coming from, Charlotte?” Evie interjected. “Are you afraid you’ll have to learn to live without your brandy fruitcake?”

  “If forced to abstain,” Lady Charlotte responded, “I do think I would find a way to rebel. It’s not as if I have brandy fruitcake morning, noon and night but I couldn’t possibly go without.”

  “Larkin,” Bicky called out. “What’s for dessert?”

  “Jellied Port and Brandied Peaches, Your Grace.”

  “And for the main?”

  “Medallion of Spring lamb with a white wine sauce, Your Grace.”

  “I see. I’m afraid I will have to take a stand here. Being the Lord and master of this household, I hereby declare there will be no more talk of prohibition here. We depend on our occasional drop far too much to risk tempting the fates.”

  Exchanging a look of amusement with Tom, Evie then leaned in and whispered, “Charlotte enjoys wringing everything she can out of a subject. We all suspect it’s because she has a morbid fear of silence. If Bicky hadn’t put an end to it, we’d be talking about prohibition until the sun comes up.”

  Bicky drew everyone’s attention again by saying, “By the way, the Sergeant will be dropping by tomorrow to ask us all a few questions. He thought the ladies might need today to get over the shock of the ghastly experience.”

  Charlotte laughed. “Suddenly, I feel as though we should get our stories straight. I’ve never been questioned by the police before.”

  Everyone at the table concurred, expressing their lack of experience with the authorities. Now, they were more intrigued than worried.

  “Did the police inspect the grounds?” Tom asked.

  “They certainly did,” Bicky replied. “If they found anything, they didn’t tell me. Personally, I doubt it. According to Larkin, the grass is too lush and there are no signs of it being trampled.”

  Tom took a leisurely sip of his wine before saying, “With your permission, I would like to have a word with your estate agent and stable manager tomorrow.”

  “Feel free,” Bicky said. “Although, I hope you don’t mean to imply one of them did it.”

  “Not at all,” Tom assured him. “But they might have noticed something.”

  “What makes you think they’ll speak with you, Tom?” Charlotte asked. “They might not feel inclined to open up to a complete stranger.”

  Evie’s light laughter tinkled across the table. “Tom has a way about him. He gets on well with everyone and makes himself comfortable in any situation. He can easily lower the social barriers. He’s quite down to earth. In fact, he didn’t wish to impose on Bicky and had suggested staying at the pub.”

  “Matthew and I stayed at a pub once,” Charlotte mused. “I had been reading a romance and noticed our ancestors used to break their long trips in pubs so I thought it would be fun to try it out.”

  “Where did you stay?” Evie asked.

  Charlotte smiled enthusiastically, “Ye Olde Trip to Jerusalem. The cellars are carved from the rocks beneath Nottingham Castle. The establishment can be traced all the way back to the 1180s and had been used as a stopover point for crusaders on their way to meet with Richard the Lionheart. Matthew believes one of his ancestors stayed there so we spent our stay looking for carvings or some sort of scratching on a wall.”

  “You think he might have scribbled his name?” Evie asked.

  “It’s not as crazy as it sounds,” Charlotte said. “His initials are carved on several doors at home.”

  Home being his Lordship’s country pile dating back to the Norman conquest, Evie thought.

  Charlotte seemed to be on a roll. “Tom, what do you make of English hospitality?”

  To his credit, Tom took his time responding. He also made a point of looking at Evie as if to reassure her he had everything under control. “Beyond compare, Lady Charlotte.”

  “Oh, please do call me Charlotte,” she laughed. “Anyhow, you say that because no one took a shot at you.”

  “I’m prepared to give everyone the benefit of the doubt. I’m sure the Duke did not mean to organize a shooter to liven up the event.”

  Charlotte’s eyes brightened. “I feel a however coming on.”

  Tom nodded. “However, since you mentioned it, someone has taken a shot at someone in the house. Regardless, I wouldn’t allow that to influence my opinion of the Duke’s hospitality.”

  “But you take the attempt on someone’s life as a personal affront?” Charlotte
asked.

  Everyone who’d been holding murmured conversations stopped to listen to Tom’s response.

  With a smile in place, he sent his gaze skating around the table. “I wouldn’t go so far as to say that, but I am interested to find out if Evie has any enemies.”

  Charlotte sounded shocked when she asked, “You think the shot fired had been intended for her?”

  “We can’t know for sure,” Evie said.

  “I’m interested to know what Tom will do with the guilty party… if they are ever found.” Charlotte’s voice now carried a degree of intrigue and exhilaration, possibly over the prospect of Tom Winchester wielding his revolver and taking matters into his own hands.

  “I will make sure justice is served,” he said.

  “That’s a rather enigmatic answer.”

  “You’ll have to excuse my wife,” Matthew piped in. “I believe she has been reading too many stories about the Wild West and thinks you might gather together a posse and chase down the culprit.” He turned to his wife. “No one will be strung up.”

  “No, but they might be drawn and quartered.” Charlotte smiled. “Tom, in case you are not acquainted with our history, we were once very fond of the hung, drawn and quartered punishment.” Taking a sip of her wine, she set her glass down and asked. “Isn’t that the name of a pub? It rings a bell.”

  Mark Harper nodded. “Yes, I believe it’s near the Tower of London. It’s relatively new. They have an excellent menu.”

  Charlotte remarked, “I take it you have dined there.”

  “I have,” Mark agreed.

  “I’m curious. What were you doing near the Tower of London?” Charlotte asked. “That’s rather a long distance from your town house.”

  Evie recalled Caro saying Mark had been intent on sowing his wild oats so she imagined he had been there to meet a paramour.

  Mark hid his smile. “What anyone else does. Sightseeing, of course.”

  Evie leaned in and whispered, “While Charlotte enjoys wringing as much as she can out of a subject, she also excels at digressing. Mark my word, she will somehow bring the conversation back to prohibition.”