by Sonia Parin
“Not really, but… we know Penelope went to see Alexander. What if she could provide proof of his involvement in the attempt on Bicky’s life?” Alexander would want to get rid of anyone who could point the finger at him.
Tom shook his head. “I didn’t know Lady Penelope, but something tells me she would have shared the information. What reason could she possibly have to harm Bicky?”
None, Evie thought. Then again…
“She might have been beyond reason. Lord Hammond must have made his intentions clear to her. Who knows what went through her mind.” Crossing her arms, Evie strode to the window. “Either Miss Shard worked alone or she took orders from someone. I’m convinced Alexander Fleshling is responsible for plotting against Bicky. He is the one with the most to gain and lose.”
Someone behind them cleared his throat. Turning, they saw Sergeant Newbury standing by the door to the drawing room. Tom approached him.
“I wonder if I might have a word with His Grace.”
When Bicky joined them, the Sergeant said, “I have alerted Scotland Yard. Miss Shard has confessed.” The Sergeant looked around the room. “I would strongly suggest avoiding the consumption of any food. It seems you had all been targeted…”
A collective gasp made its way around the drawing room.
Chapter Twenty-Six
A cup of poison?
“Poor Bicky. I suppose he will now have to agree to a divorce and find himself a proper wife.”
Evie felt too dazed to bother looking up to see who had spoken.
“To think, if he’d had an heir none of this would have happened…” someone else remarked.
“Were the sandwiches safe to eat?”
“And the tea…”
Evie settled down with a cup of tea. Scotland Yard Detectives had taken Alexander Fleshling into custody. The police had Miss Shard’s confession but Evie wondered if that would be enough to put Alexander behind bars.
According to Miss Shard, Alexander had approached her the previous Christmas when he’d stayed at Yarborough Manor. The plan had been to poison the food.
Elizabeth’s face looked pale and her voice sounded strained when she said, “To think, we should all be dead now.”
Evie shook her head. “I cannot believe the lengths he’d been prepared to go to in order to cover his tracks.”
“What do you mean?” Bicky asked.
“Why else poison food we were all going to eat unless he wanted to cover his tracks?” It made sense to Evie. Killing everyone reduced the risk of suspicion falling on Alexander. If Bicky had been the only victim, as the heir, the police would have questioned Alexander Fleshling. However, with everyone dead, only one person would have been held accountable. The most susceptible one. Miss Shard. “Who knows what Alexander had planned for her.”
“But Miss Shard insists she didn’t poison Penelope,” Bicky said.
Evie got up and strode around the drawing room. “Penelope went to see Alexander. Perhaps he delivered the poison.” Turning, she looked at Dr. Higgins who’d been called back to attend to the Dowager who had felt faint. Evie told him what time Penelope had caught the train and Bicky confirmed her time of arrival at Yarborough Manor. “She complained of a headache. Would the time it took to travel from London be enough for the poison to take effect?”
Dr. Higgins nodded. “Yes, but it all really depends on the dosage.”
The Dowager pressed her hand to her throat. “Miss Shard has been in this house for days. She might have been slowly poisoning us.” She looked at Bicky. “Either you produce an heir yourself or you let anyone who thinks they stand a chance fight it out among themselves. Monarchs have died without naming an heir. Why not you?”
***
The next morning, Evie and Tom were the only ones to join Bicky for breakfast.
“We’ll be setting out for the police station this morning,” Evie said as she helped herself to some bacon and eggs.
“Are you sure you’re up to it?” Tom asked.
“Absolutely. Although, I doubt it will make any difference. Alexander must have taken precautions. He’s not likely to have dealt with the shooter himself.”
“And yet he enlisted Miss Shard’s help,” Tom reasoned.
“I wonder if he had plans for her.” Evie took a sip of her coffee. “I trust the police will be able to prove he poisoned Penelope. Surely, there is no such thing as a perfect crime. Someone procured the poison. Speaking of which…” She looked at Tom’s plate. “Have you lost your appetite?”
“I had some toast. The butler assured us the bread had been freshly baked early this morning.”
Evie laughed. “I’m sure the eggs were cracked today.”
Tom looked toward the platter. “You have a point.” Getting up, he helped himself to some scrambled eggs.
“I suppose the others have decided to fast.” She set her fork down. “Oh, heavens. Has anyone checked on them?”
Bicky nodded. “At the crack of dawn. Everyone made it through the night.”
She couldn’t help noticing Bicky’s tone lacked his usual convivial chirpiness. Then again, one of his close friends had been killed and his heir had tried to kill him and all his friends.
“I suppose you should know,” Bicky said, “I have decided to go ahead and begin divorce proceedings. I can’t help but feel partly responsible for poor Penelope’s death.”
“Nonsense,” Evie said.
“If I hadn’t been so stubborn, then Clara would not have dragged Lord Hammond into this mess.”
“If not Clara then someone else would have done the deed,” Evie said. “I wouldn’t be surprised to discover Lord Hammond has been straying for quite some time. But then, that’s guesswork on my part.”
“There’s nothing wrong with your guesswork,” Tom remarked.
Bicky picked up his newspaper. “At least there’s no mention of this nasty business in today’s newspaper. But I suppose I’ll have to brace myself.”
Smiling, Evie said, “We shall have to see if we can pick up some newspapers from home. I’m ever so eager to read the sports pages.”
“I didn’t realize you were interested in sport,” Bicky said.
“Oh, not usually but as I recently informed Tom, I am partial to the Yankees.” Smiling at Tom, she said, “I’m ready when you are. On our way back, we’ll have to stop at Marceline’s Salon de Beaute. I’d like to pick up some more of their lovely soap before we leave.”
“Are you sure you want to do this? Going to the police station is not for the fainthearted… I don’t mean to imply you’re faint of heart, but you don’t have to.”
“Oh, but I must. It’s a matter of duty.”
Epilogue
The road home…
“I look forward to your next visit and promise to do my best to make it as boring as possible.”
“Oh, I doubt you could ever manage that, Bicky.” With the shooter identified as the man Evie had seen in the village, the police had managed to connect him to Alexander Fleshling. Bicky had lost his heir. Alexander had been taken into custody to await trial. According to Sergeant Newbury, they already had enough evidence to prove his involvement in Lady Penelope’s death. It seemed Alexander’s chauffeur had been well-informed and quite willing to save his own neck.
Looking up at the splendid manor house, Evie said, “I expect to receive an invitation to your next wedding.” While divorce proceedings would take some time, she suspected Clara would use all her connections to expedite matters.
Evie said her goodbyes and strode toward the motor car. As she waited for Caro to make her final inspection of the luggage, she said, “Tom, remember what you said at the start about sticking as close as possible to the truth?”
Tom looked away.
“Don’t pretend you didn’t hear me.”
Releasing a long breath, he looked at her. “Yes, I remember.”
“Well, exactly how much of what you said can we rely on to be true?”
He dro
pped his gaze and subjected his shoes to a close scrutiny.
“Were you a wildcatter?”
“I think there’s a wildcatter in all of us.”
“Now you’re being deliberately elusive,” she chided. “Do I need to place an advertisement for a new chauffeur?”
“I hope you won’t. The job suits me, at least for the time being.”
“I see. Are you entertaining other ideas?”
He held her gaze for a long moment. “I think I’m beginning to learn to go with the flow.”
“I’m glad to hear that because you might have to dispense with your chauffeur’s uniform.”
He gave her a small smile. “At least until we’re out of sight of Yarborough Manor.” He held the car door open for her. “For now, everyone thinks your chauffeur has been taken ill and I’ve offered to drive you home.”
“You have an answer for everything. I’m so glad you’re on my team. Then again, you’re not really… How do you think the Red Sox will manage without Babe Ruth?”
“I suppose we’ll just have to wait and see.”
With a final wave goodbye, they drove off. Evie fixed her attention on the road ahead only to slide it over to Tom.
“Caro, please remind me to write a note to my granny. I need to thank her…”
*****
I hope you have enjoyed reading House Party Murder Rap. Next in the series: Murder at the Tea Party. If you wish to receive news about my new releases:
Follow me on BookBub
Author Notes
Facts and Historical references
As I set out to write my first historical mystery, I realized I would have to pay close attention to my word choices. In my effort to ensure the story remained historically correct, I spent many hours checking and double-checking word and phrase usage. Here are some examples:
Week-end, 1630s, from week + end. Originally a northern word (referring to the period from Saturday noon to Monday morning); it became general after 1878.
Getaway, 1852, "an escape," originally in fox hunting, from verbal phrase get away "escape". Of prisoners or criminals from 1893.
Pot-hole, 1826, originally a geological feature in glaciers and gravel beds. Applied to a hole in a road from 1909.
Like a bat out of hell: The Lions of the Lord: A Tale of the Old West By Harry Leon Wilson, Copyright 1903, published June, 1903, page 107 (google book full view):
Why, I tell you, young man, if I knew any places where the pinches was at, you'd see me comin' the other way like a bat out of hell.
Also…
Tom Winchester’s background: In Chapter Eight, Tom Winchester claims: “Back in 1914, I started out as a wildcatter in Tulsa, Oklahoma. Soon after, I purchased my first drilling rights.”
I borrowed this information from John Paul Getty’s own start in the oil business.
Baseball
May 1, 1920: Babe Ruth's first Yankee home run is a 'colossal clout' against Red Sox. As the second month of the 1920 season opened, the New York Yankees routed the Boston Red Sox at the Polo Grounds, 6-0, behind Babe Ruth's first home run as a New Yorker.
Books by Sonia Parin
A Dear Abby Cozy Mystery series
End of the Lane
Be Still My Heart
The Last Ride
The Last Stop
The Last Dance
A Deadline Cozy Mystery series
Sunny Side Up
Snuffed Out
All Tied Up
The Last Bite
Final Cut
Sleeping With the Fishes
A Kink in the Road
The Merry Widow
Dying Trade
A Mackenzie Coven Mystery series
Witch Inheritance
Witch Indeed
Witch Cast
Witch Charm
Witch Trials
A Mackenzie Witch Collection: Witch Namaste, Good Witch Hunting & ‘Tis the Season to be Creepy
Witch in Exile
A Mackenzie Witch Collection 2: Jingle Purrs, Potion Heist and The Power of Two and a Half
A Mackenzie Coven Mystery Short
Witch Namaste (Novella)
Good Witch Hunting (Novella)
‘Tis the Season to be Creepy (Short)
Jingle Purrs (Short)
Potion Heist (Short)
The Power of Two and a Half (Short)
