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

by Sonia Parin

  The butler opened a door and stepped aside. Despite it being the middle of the afternoon, the room remained in darkness with only a sliver of light daring to infiltrate the gloom.

  A light moan guided Evie toward the four-poster bed. As Evie’s eyes adjusted to the dark, she saw Miss Wainscot lying on the bed, her face covered with a veil.

  “Wilfred? Is that you?” Clarissa Wainscot asked, her voice lacking the vibrancy of the day before.

  “Yes, Miss Clarissa. You have a visitor,” the butler said.

  “Wilfred, you know I’m in no fit state to receive visitors.”

  Before the butler could speak, Evie said in a soft murmur, “It’s Lady Woodridge. I have come to see if there is anything I can do for you.”

  After a moment’s hesitation, Miss Clarissa said, “Thank you, Wilfred. That will be all.”

  “Very well, Miss Clarissa.”

  Evie waited for the butler to withdraw before saying, “How are you feeling?”

  Miss Clarissa made a choking sound. “My life is ruined. I am disfigured.”

  “News about your illness has caused great distress at Yarborough Manor. Everyone is concerned about your wellbeing.”

  “Really?” the news seemed to brighten Miss Clarissa.

  “Yes. Viscount Maison and Mr. Harper were particularly concerned about you.”

  Miss Clarissa made an effort to sit up. “The doctor assures me I will recover within a few days.”

  Evie barely managed to hide her relief. “Our prayers have been answered. We have all been hoping for a speedy recovery.”

  Miss Clarissa could not have sounded more surprised. “You have?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “How kind of you to say so. I had no idea I had made such an impression on Viscount Maison or Mr. Harper.” The veil slipped away from her face revealing red blotches on her cheeks, chin and forehead. Miss Clarissa gasped and adjusted the veil back in place. “You must think me a monster.”

  “Nonsense.” Evie edged closer to the bed. “Does it hurt?”

  “Not at all,” Miss Clarissa assured her. “I’m afraid my eyes are puffy. Until this morning, I thought I would die.”

  Evie patted her hand. “I spoke with Anna at Marceline’s Salon de Beaute. She assured me you were quite content with the treatment.”

  Miss Clarissa gave a small nod.

  “What happened?”

  “Soon after I arrived home, I felt sleepy so I took a nap.”

  Evie remembered she had felt the same way after her treatment and had been told it had been the result of the relaxing therapy.

  “When I woke up, my face felt itchy and sore.”

  “How dreadful,” Evie exclaimed.

  “I could barely breathe.”

  Evie thought she must have panicked and been beside herself with fear. “Did you happen to apply any of the cream you purchased?”

  “No. I’d only just had the treatment so there was no need for it.”

  Perhaps the cream used for the treatment had been slow to take effect. Or…

  “Do you still have the cream you purchased?” Evie asked.

  Miss Clarissa nodded. “I set it down… somewhere.”

  “Do you mind if I look around for it?”

  “Not at all, but… why do you want to see it?”

  “Curiosity.” Evie strolled around the room and stopped by the dresser where the brushes and several small pots were organized in neat rows. She held a pot up and asked, “Is this is?”

  “I can’t see very well from here, but it looks like it.”

  Evie went to stand by the window and shifted the thick velvet curtain enough to be able to read the label on the pot. Nodding, she said, “Yes, this is it.” She twisted off the cap and peered inside. An indentation in the cream suggested some of it had been used. Evie smelled it. If someone had contaminated it with something toxic, it had not affected the light flowery fragrance. Only one way to know for sure, she thought and dabbed some on her hand. “You say you didn’t use it at all.”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  Well. Someone had.

  ***

  Evie found Tom studying a painting of a severe looking Wainscot ancestor.

  “Well?” he asked.

  Evie looked toward the drawing room. She knew she should take her leave and thank Lady Wainscot for allowing her to see her daughter but, in all honesty, she simply didn’t have the energy or patience to tackle that particular mountain.

  Good sense won out and, scooping in a breath, she strode back into the drawing room to thank Lady Wainscot and report that the news had been well received and Miss Wainscot had cheered up considerably.

  With a nod to the butler, Evie nudged Tom and they strode out. Outside, she gazed across at the garden. She hadn’t noticed a young girl in the drawing room. She assumed Miss Clarissa’s sister would be younger than twenty-five…

  “Let’s take a stroll around,” she suggested.

  “You’re being mysterious,” Tom said.

  “My apologies. I didn’t mean to be.” Evie told him about her visit with Miss Clarissa.

  “She went to sleep and then woke up with a rash?” Tom asked.

  “That’s right. And the cream she had purchased at Marceline’s Salon de Beaute had been opened.” Evie stopped and held up her hand.

  “What am I looking at?”

  “I dabbed some on. If there had been something toxic in the cream, my skin would have reacted to it. Look. It’s perfectly fine.”

  “Maybe the cream contains a substance you’re not allergic to,” Tom suggested.

  True. Miss Wainscot’s rash had looked severe. However, Evie knew for a fact the cream only contained a basic herb. “What if someone else introduced a toxic substance? The container had been opened but Miss Wainscot said she hadn’t used any. She went to sleep and then woke up with a rash.”

  “I guess you’re now suggesting someone applied the cream after she fell asleep.”

  Evie nodded. “It is a possibility and the only one I can think of. They must have mixed something toxic into the cream. Perhaps they used something else to mix it in. Something easily obtainable.” They strode toward a walled garden. Easing the gate open, they saw a small wilderness area. “Let’s take a look around.”

  “Who and why?” Tom murmured.

  After they circled around the garden a couple of times, Evie was about to suggest taking a walk outside the walled garden when she pointed to the far corner where a large majestic oak stood surrounded by bushes.

  The path narrowed and the bushes appeared to be growing out of control. A wheelbarrow, rake and gardening implements had been left by the tree suggesting someone might be in the process of working in the area.

  Evie stopped at the edge. “I think this is as far as I go. You have trousers.”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Well, go on,” Evie urged.

  He gave her a blank look.

  Evie gestured with her hand toward the large tree.

  “You want me to trudge through the bushes in search of what?”

  “Something toxic.” Evie stood on her toes. “There. I see something right up against the wall and well away from the path.”

  Tom made his way to it. She watched him inspect the plant, look toward her and then back at the plant. A moment later, he returned.

  “Stinging nettle,” he said.

  Evie’s eyebrows shot up. “That’s it. It has to be. Did you see if any of it had been cut off?”

  “Yes.”

  Hearing the crunch of footsteps along the pebbled path, Evie turned. A young woman strode along the path and appeared to be headed toward a bench. When she saw Evie, she hesitated. Then, she turned and hurried away.

  “Wait,” Evie called out.

  Instead of stopping, the young woman broke into a run.

  “Tom, go after her.”

  As he hurried past her, Evie thought she heard him mutter something about telling him to fetch.

>   Chapter Eighteen

  Yarborough Manor

  “Miss Eugene Wainscot,” Evie announced as she strode into the Duke’s drawing room, her voice conveying the euphoric triumph she felt.

  Everyone set their cups down and gave Evie their full attention.

  “She is the younger Miss Wainscot,” Evie explained. “And she is the culprit.”

  “Well, that is one mystery solved,” Bicky declared. “But, how did you discover her involvement?”

  Evie sat down and related the story. “When Tom caught up with her, she burst into tears. She had guilt written all over her. As we asked questions, we learned the Honorable Miss Wainscot can cry on command. She eventually told us her sister had been insufferable. Since returning with the news about the beauty treatment and Charlotte’s offer to sponsor her season, she had been talking about it non-stop and showing off to Miss Eugene. So, Miss Eugene decided to do something about it. She mixed some of the cream with stinging nettle and applied it while her sister slept.”

  Jealousy and malice. Pure and simple.

  Evie looked around the drawing room. “Where’s the Dowager Duchess?”

  “She left soon after you did,” Bicky said. “She’ll be sorry to have missed the news.”

  “I doubt it since it puts me in the clear.” Evie accepted a cup of tea and took a sip. “I’ve never seen her enjoying herself so much at my expense.”

  Tom settled down beside her to eat his fruitcake.

  “Did you tell Miss Eugene’s mama about her daughter’s cruel antics?” Lady Charlotte asked.

  “Tom felt we should but I really didn’t want to stoke the fire. From what Miss Eugene said, her sister can be quite viciously competitive as well as cunning and cruel. Apparently, the previous year, Miss Clarissa had given her young sister a severe rash by sprinkling dried Baby’s Breath on all her bed linen. I had no idea it could cause a rash. Anyhow, the rash cleared after a couple of days but she had not been fit to attend a significant ball in town.”

  Bicky strode around the room. “I don’t quite understand why Lady Wainscot pointed the finger at you. Mama can be creative, but not to that extent.”

  Charlotte piped in, “It’s common knowledge. Lady Wainscot holds a grudge against Evie for marrying Nicholas. I imagine she sees her as a threat now because Evie is, once again, available.”

  Bicky shook his head. “But that doesn’t make sense. Lady Wainscot’s daughters were not even out of the school room when Evie married.”

  Charlotte shrugged. “I suppose Evie instilled fear into every mama’s heart. If one American heiress could sweep in and take the prize, then others might follow. Also, she is once again eligible and free to marry.”

  Mark Harper winked at Evie. “Perhaps you should set her mind at ease and announce your engagement to Mr. Winchester.”

  Evie had to remind herself Mark didn’t actually know Tom Winchester and Mr. Tom Winchester were one and the same.

  Glancing over at Tom, she wondered if it would make a difference. If she fell in love with a man, would she talk herself out of it simply because he was her social inferior?

  “You’re looking very serious,” Charlotte remarked.

  Bicky’s sister, Elizabeth agreed. “That is her thinking look. Do share.”

  “Well, there is still the question of the attempt on Bicky’s life.” Evie thought it would be easier to stick with that theory. As far as she could remember, the others didn’t know about the incident on the road.

  “Oh,” Elizabeth said. “I thought you might have been worried about still being a target.”

  Belatedly, Evie remembered Bicky had confided in his sister.

  “What’s this?” Penelope asked. “Why would Evie be a target?”

  Lady Penelope rarely spoke up, unless she had something to complain about. So, when she did, she took Evie by surprise. So much so, Evie felt her cheeks flush as she realized she hadn’t even noticed Lady Penelope sitting beside Elizabeth. This delayed her reaction, so she missed her opportunity to stop Elizabeth.

  “Someone tried to kill Evie out on the road when she arrived yesterday,” Elizabeth explained.

  Penelope gasped. “Really?”

  “Who would want to do that?” Charlotte asked. Looking at her empty plate, she got up and strode to the table to help herself to some cake. “This is unacceptable. Are we to be murdered in our beds?”

  Elizabeth laughed. “Are you being serious or just quoting Mrs. Bennett?”

  “Both. What if we’re next? Someone might be trying to pick us off one by one until they succeed in getting rid of the lot of us.” Realizing she stood close to the window, Charlotte hurried back to her seat. “Well, Duke? What assurance can you give us? Are we safe or not?”

  Bicky nodded. “I’d say we are. Everyone is on the lookout for suspicious looking characters. No one would dare make another attempt on any of our lives.”

  “What are we to do for the remainder of our stay?” Charlotte asked. “I’m sorry to say, I don’t buy into your confidence. I don’t have the courage to set foot outside.”

  Lady Penelope agreed. Until now, she had kept her opinions to herself. Clearly, she now saw herself included in the threat.

  For some reason, everyone turned to Tom. He must have sensed it because he looked up.

  “I’m sorry, did I miss something?” he asked.

  “We’re looking to you for an answer,” Penelope said.

  He took a bite of his cake and after he swallowed, asked, “An answer to what?”

  “This threat. What are we to do?” Charlotte asked.

  After some thought and another bite of cake, Tom said, “I suggest we remain calm and start working on a list. Since the only victims so far are Bicky and Evie, we might want to focus on what they have in common.”

  “Larkin,” Bicky said.

  “Yes, Your Grace.”

  “Could we please have some pen and paper?”

  “Certainly, Your Grace.”

  Charlotte looked from Bicky to Evie. “I say, you two wouldn’t be trying to pull the wool over our eyes?” Her eyebrows drew downward. “Would you?”

  “Whatever do you mean?” Evie asked.

  “Pretending you were shot at on the road, that’s what I mean.”

  “Why would we do that?”

  “Because you and Bicky have decided to make this a mystery weekend. It’s a fabulous idea, but I’d like to know if my life is truly in danger or not. I would prefer to know so I could have more fun playing the game.”

  Evie smiled. “Would you? I think it would be more realistic if you really believed your life hung in the balance.” She gave Charlotte a moment to consider the idea. “However, we wouldn’t be so cruel.”

  Charlotte could not have looked more disappointed.

  Evie laughed. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you object to not being a target. In any case, Bicky has a wound on his arm. That cannot be ignored.”

  Charlotte glanced over at Bicky. “Of course. I’d… I’d forgotten.”

  Larkin appeared with the writing paraphernalia which included several fountain pens and notebooks.

  “Perhaps one person could take notes while we hash it all out,” Bicky suggested.

  Despite Penelope putting her hand up and volunteering to take notes, Evie asked Larkin for a pen and paper. It had all started with being shot at on the road so she uncapped her pen and put her name at the top of the list.

  Prime target. She then added Bicky’s name alongside hers.

  Looking at Tom, she wondered if perhaps he should be on the list too. Maybe someone had mistaken Bicky for him when they’d taken a shot at him through the drawing room window. Although, that didn’t exactly make sense. No one would have expected her chauffeur to be inside the house.

  “Who would like to go first,” Charlotte asked. “No one? Fine, I’ll put myself forward.”

  Evie didn’t bother holding her laughter. Charlotte had clearly been keen to be heard, so she didn’t give
anyone else a chance to respond.

  Looking over at Bicky, Charlotte gave him an apologetic look. “I think the Dowager Duchess has finally cracked it.”

  It took a moment for everyone to realize Charlotte must have been trying to lighten the mood. In any case, she went ahead and laughed.

  “Honestly, you should see your faces. Filled with utter astonishment that the idea would even come to me. The Dowager Duchess is so many things. A killer? No, I don’t think so.”

  Evie tapped her pen against her notebook. Bicky had been having issues of infidelity with his wife. Evie looked around her. The wife who had as yet to put in an appearance. “Has Clara not arrived?”

  Bicky looked at the clock. “No, not yet. If she has, she’s gone straight to her room. Although, if she had, Larkin would have informed me.”

  “Should we add Clara to the list of suspects?” Charlotte asked. “She is making herself obvious by her absence.”

  “And what possible motive would she have?” Elizabeth asked.

  If anyone knew of Bicky’s troubles, his sister would. However, Elizabeth had never once said a bad word against her sister in law.

  Everyone in the room fell silent. It became obvious they all knew Bicky had been navigating troubled waters but they didn’t want to make them murky by speaking ill of his absent wife.

  It seemed Charlotte had no such qualms about airing her opinions.

  Charlotte shifted. “Well, with Bicky out of the way, Clara would get her money back and she would be free to marry again.”

  Evie looked at Bicky. Instead of looking shocked or insulted by the insinuation his wife had been involved in the shooting, he looked rather pensive. Had Charlotte’s remark touched a sore spot? He couldn’t be entertaining the possibility. Surely not…

  “But her money must be all tied up,” Evie reasoned.

  Bicky glanced at her. The small shake of his head suggested there might be something to Charlotte’s accusation.