Death in an Elegant City: Book Four in the Murder on Location Series

by Sara Rosett

  Alex said, “But getting back to Dominic. He still had part of the note?”

  “Yes. He planted the fragment so that it would throw suspicion on someone else.”

  “Annie,” I said with a shake of my head. “His wife. It was in her book.”

  “But it would have Mr. Alexander’s fingerprints on it as well by now,” Byron said, “as well as his own. But since it was written on a notepad from the hotel, his fingerprints would be expected…while Mr. Alexander’s wouldn’t be explained away so easily. Nice and confusing for us when we discovered it after his tip.”

  The sound of footsteps coming up the circular iron staircase from the basement drew everyone’s attention. A young constable appeared, trotted up the remaining steps, and looked surprised to see so many people staring at him. He spotted Byron and went across the room to him, extending a man’s leather shoe, which was encased in an evidence bag. “We found it, sir. Size twelve-point-five, silver buckle, and punch detailing on the toe.”

  “Good work,” Byron replied. Peering through the plastic, he examined the interior of the shoe and gave a short nod. “Correct brand as well. Where was it?”

  “In the smaller tunnel, the one with the debris.”

  I straightened in the chair. “That’s why Dominic was in the tunnels in the middle of the night. He was looking for Cyrus’s missing shoe.”

  Byron said, “Yes, it must have fallen off when he moved the body from here to the Baths. If it were ever found and identified as Mr. Blakely’s shoe it would show Blakely had been in the tunnels. And that was something that Mr. Bell did not want to risk. Originally, we believed that Mr. Blakely was killed after the Baths opened, at nine thirty. If this shoe was found, it would widen the time of death window. We already had a few questions about it, so a discovery of a personal item from the victim in a tunnel that connected the bath complex to the catacombs under the city itself…well, that would certainly have shifted the direction of the investigation.”

  “Questions about the time of death,” I murmured. Now that I was warm and safe, my thoughts were spinning back over the last few days. “It was the rigor, wasn’t it?”

  Byron raised his eyebrows. “Yes. You are very observant. Why didn’t you mention it before?”

  “I didn’t notice it—the doctor who examined Cyrus said something about the state of Cyrus’s body. She thought that Cyrus had been dead several hours. But with everything else that happened that morning, I didn’t think about what she’d said again until you mentioned it just now. And even the doctor said it was hard to judge time of death by rigor.”

  “It is rather tricky. The typical onset of rigor is generally between two to six hours after death, but a number of other factors, including the physical condition of the individual and the ambient temperature, cause variations. And then there are cases of cadaveric spasm, or instantaneous rigor, which is what the medical examiner suspects was the case with Mr. Blakely. The official report is not yet in, but with the statement Mr. Bell made to you combined with the evidence of the shoe in the tunnel, I believe we now have an accurate grasp of the events surrounding Mr. Bell’s death, which of course, also answers the questions around Ms. Warren’s death as well.”

  “Excellent,” Elise said. “Now that all that bother has been settled, we can get back to work.”

  “Departing at ten in the morning?” Felix asked three days later as he opened the door of the van and tossed in his tote bag. “You’re going soft on us, Elise.”

  Alex and I were a few paces behind him with our suitcases and exchanged a glance. Felix had been unusually subdued for the last few days. Well, I supposed it wasn’t that unusual for someone who’d been embarrassed in his romantic endeavors to go through a phase of withdrawal, but he’d let many opportunities for smart-alecky remarks slide by him.

  Elise smiled at him with what I thought seemed to be an almost fond look. “Glad to see you’re getting back to your typical snarky ways. I find that I’ve actually missed your snide comments these last few days.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Felix said rather gruffly.

  Elise hadn’t been joking when she said we could get back to work. She had soothed the backers and convinced them that the publicity over the deaths would only be a boost for the production. She also managed to get a new director on the team, someone she referred to as a “nice biddable man,” which I supposed meant she felt she could manage him. He wasn’t able to join us immediately, which only made Elise like him more.

  Our team spent the last several days answering police questions, appearing at three inquests, and finishing our location scouting. Now that we’d been given the all-clear to leave from Inspector Byron and had all the scouting material we needed, we were wrapping up.

  Elise looked over Felix’s shoulder. “There’s Annie, waving us down.” Paul had parked the van at the end of the pedestrian walkway that ran in front of the street with the hotel. Annie was swinging her crutch quickly over the cobblestones. She looked as if she’d survived a bout with the flu with her face pale and thinner than it had been when we arrived. “Do go see what she needs, won’t you Felix?” Elise asked.

  I glanced at Elise curiously. Normally, she’d send Paul on an errand like that, but perhaps she had picked up on the easy camaraderie between Felix and Annie during the last couple of days.

  Annie had been up and moving about the hotel the morning after learning the news about Dominic. She’d bustled about, fixing breakfast and attending to the details of running the hotel, waving anyone off who suggested that she take a break. Felix had been one of those people who tried to convince her to take it easy, but she’d said firmly and decisively, “No. I have to stay busy. It’s the only thing I can do.” But her voice had a ragged edge to it.

  I’d been surprised when Felix nodded and said, “I can understand that.” He’d taken a stack of dirty dishes from her, rolled up his sleeves, and washed them. We’d all pitched in to do what we could, but Felix had done more than anyone else. I’d even seen him vacuuming the carpet in the parlor this morning.

  We had all tactfully avoided mentioning Octavia, and I think that Felix was grateful. She had been at Cyrus’s inquest, but Felix had only nodded politely at her when their gazes crossed as we left the building. She’d barely acknowledged his presence with a faint dip of her head. I was walking beside him, and I think I was the only person who heard him mumble under his breath something about a lucky escape.

  “I had to come out and say goodbye and apologize again for…well, everything,” Annie said. Felix had met her halfway, but she’d waved him off and quickly covered the distance to the van.

  “You don’t have anything to apologize for,” I said. “None of what happened was your fault.”

  Annie sighed. “Not directly, no. But perhaps if I’d spoken up when I began to suspect that Dominic was having an affair. If he knew that it wasn’t a secret, then he might not have done what he did.”

  “Nonsense,” Elise said in an unbending tone. “People like Dominic, once they’ve set their minds to something, they won’t be deterred. No use ruining the rest of your life because someone else made terrible decisions. Now, what are your plans?”

  Felix said, “Don’t pry, Elise. It’s too soon—”

  Elise sent him a quelling look. “Annie’s already decided, haven’t you?”

  Annie nodded. “Yes. I’m going to sell the hotel. I’ve made a few calls about it. It was more Dominic’s dream than mine. I have an idea for a travel website, a bit of a gap in the market, so I’ll see if that takes off. Then I want to travel, if it all works out. Soon I should have this thing off,” she tapped her cast, “and then I’m off to see the world.”

  “Where will you go?” I asked.

  “I’m not sure yet.”

  “Can’t go wrong with the Lake District,” Felix said, and then looked as if he wished he could take the words back. We were set to film in Bath after the New Year then return to the area around N
ether Woodsmoor in the spring for the last episodes of the production. Nether Woodsmoor wasn’t that far from the Lake District.

  Annie sent him a quick grin. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  Elise looked at her watch. “We must get on the road. Are we loaded?” Elise asked, looking to Paul. “Paul!”

  He looked up from his phone, and I wondered if he had been texting with Melissa. She had departed from Bath last night to return the extra clothing that had been used in the exhibit to its various lenders. I’d noticed Paul had offered to help load boxes for her, and when I asked how things were going before she left, Melissa had smiled dreamily. “We exchanged phone numbers, and he’s already sent me a text,” she said, which didn’t sound all that romantic to me, but she seemed happy about it, so I was glad for her.

  “Just two more suitcases.” Paul looked at me and Alex.

  We said goodbye to Annie, and went to the back of the van where Alex tossed in our suitcases.

  “Well, not the trip we expected.” I gazed one last time at the wall that enclosed the bath complex and the tower of the Abbey ranging up behind it.

  “No, but at least the drive back should be less stressful.”

  “Alex!” a voice called, and I tried to hide a grimace. We hadn’t seen Viv in several days. Alex hadn’t mentioned her, and I figured it was best to not raise the subject, superstitiously afraid that if I did utter her name, she might pop up instantly.

  She jogged quickly toward us, her auburn hair bouncing around her like she was in a shampoo commercial. “Oh, don’t say you’re leaving.”

  “Afraid so,” I said without a trace of sadness.

  “Oh, that’s too bad. I’ve been so busy at work the last few days, I couldn’t get away, and I did so want to hear all about what happened. It’s just too amazing.”

  “We have to get on the road,” Alex said, looking toward Elise. “Boss’s orders. It’s been good to see—”

  “That’s your boss?” Viv asked, her eyes widening. “That’s Elise DuPont, the producer?”

  “Yes.”

  Viv took a deep breath and her manner changed from bouncy and outgoing to nervous. She licked her lips. “Do you think…could you…maybe give her my name?”

  “Your name?” Alex asked.

  “Yes, for when you film here in Bath. I’d do anything—be an extra or whatever—or if you’re going to have auditions, I’d go where ever they are. Up to London or Manchester, or anywhere.”

  The tension that had appeared in Alex’s shoulders the moment Viv called his name, disappeared. “You want a part. You want to be in the production.”

  “Yes,” she said, looking uncomfortable. “I know it’s a lot to ask, but if you could just mention my name to her, that could make a huge difference. I’ve taken acting classes, and I’ve been on tons of auditions. I even got a commercial. It was local, but that’s something, right? Anyway, what I’ve found out is that, if you know someone it helps get your foot in the door. And when I heard what you were doing and that you’d be in Bath, I had to look you up. I mean, I’m glad to see you and catch up and everything, but…” her glance strayed to Elise again. “Anything you could do for me would be great.”

  Alex grinned. “Let me introduce you to Elise.”

  “Really?” Viv squeaked.

  “Come on.”

  Viv tucked her hair behind her ears and smoothed down her windbreaker that she wore over running pants. “Do I look okay?” She asked, swiveling toward me.

  She looked the complete opposite of a Regency miss, but I thought of all the ultra modern young women who showed up at the set on filming days dressed in ripped shorts and shirts that hung off their shoulders, but who later emerged from Costume swathed in high-waisted gowns, gloves, and bonnets. “You look great.”

  Elise was now in the driver’s seat of the van, but the door was open. Alex approached Elise with Viv trailing along behind him. He made the introductions, Elise asked a few questions, then she sent Viv to talk to Paul. He gave her a business card. Viv turned away, squished up her shoulders and mouthed thank you to Alex before spinning and walking away, her stride so bouncy that I almost expected her to break into a skip.

  “Well,” Alex said. “That was…interesting. All that ‘accidentally’ running across our paths.” He laughed. “She knew Elise’s name and all about the production. She had researched everything.”

  “She was star-struck,” I said. “She didn’t want to be your girlfriend.”

  “I should find that a blow to my ego, but I’m actually relieved,” Alex said. “She kept showing up and barging in.”

  “It was awkward,” I agreed. As we moved around to climb in the van, I stopped. “Ah, Alex—she’s coming back.”

  Viv was bouncing back toward us. She gripped Alex’s arm. “I was so excited I completely forgot to tell you that I think you made exactly the right choice about the jewelry.” She squeezed his arm, then turned to me and said in a fake whisper, “You’ll love it. Okay, I am leaving now. Bye.”

  She gave a little wave and bounded off again.

  Alex watched her retreating back for a moment then turned to me. “Just making sure she wasn’t going to come back. She doesn’t have the whole story.” He pulled a small square box out of the pocket of his jacket.

  I stared at the little box, my heart suddenly pounding.

  The words Alex, this is so sudden were already forming in my mind when he flicked the hinged lid back. A pair of enormous gold chandelier earrings glinted against the black velvet background. The gold was fashioned in a mesh pattern and rows of spiky crystals lined the ragged bottom edge of the earrings. “Um—they’re—ah…unusual.”

  “Unusually awful, I agree,” Alex said. “They’re for my mom.”

  “Oh,” I said. “What a relief. I thought—”

  “I know. It’s what Viv thought, too. When she ‘bumped’ into me the other day, she followed me into the jewelry store. My mom has a bracelet like this, so I decided to get them. My mom is hard to buy for—people with appalling taste are, you know—so when I saw these, I thought they’d be perfect. Christmas is only a few weeks away.”

  “Right,” I said, readjusting my thoughts. Christmas gift for his mom. Not a ring. I smiled as brightly as I could. “Good thing you saw them. I’m sure she’ll…love them…?”

  “Yeah…hard to imagine, but there you go. There’s no accounting for taste.” He snapped the box closed and dropped it in his pocket as he gestured for me to climb into the van ahead of him. “Now, I just have to find you a gift for Christmas.”

  I shifted around Felix to the seat behind him. “Christmas gifts,” I said. “I hadn’t even thought about them.”

  “Well, you better get on it,” Elise said from the front seat. “You have to mail yours back to the States, right?”

  “Yes, I suppose I better get busy.” I said. Alex closed the door and came to sit beside me. Elise put the van in drive, and I twisted around for a last look at the tower of the Abbey, but my thoughts were a jumble.

  Why had I thought it was a ring? Did I really think Alex was going to pop the question, standing on a street with our work colleagues looking on? I’d told him that I didn’t want anything to change in our relationship. I liked things the way they were. Didn’t I? Then why had I felt a flare of disappointment—just a tiny one—when I saw that they were earrings? I pushed that thought away.

  Alex and Elise were right. Christmas wasn’t that far away. But it wasn’t the gifts that had to be mailed that I was suddenly concerned with. What in the world was I going to get Alex for Christmas? I had weeks to work it out. No need to stress about it now. Plenty of time…but somehow I thought I was going to need all of that time to find the perfect gift.

  * * *

  THE END

  The Story Behind The Story

  Thanks for reading Death in an Elegant City. Kate and Alex will encounter another mystery soon. If you’d like to know when I have a new book out, you can sign up for my newslet
ter, which will get you exclusive excerpts of upcoming books and access member-only giveaways.

  When I came up with the idea of writing a contemporary mystery series related to Jane Austen, I knew that Bath would be a potential setting for one of the books. I had read about Bath and wanted to visit it for years, but I couldn’t write about it until I actually traveled there. Happily, I was able to go to Bath last year and experience it firsthand. You can see some of my travel photos as well as images of places that inspired me at my pinboard for the book on Pinterest.

  I had an idea for Death in an Elegant City, a scouting trip that goes horribly wrong, but the pieces of the plot didn’t gel until I was in Bath. I had read about Bath Abbey’s clock tower and thought it would be a great location for the climax of the book. Climbing over the vaults of the Abbey behind the clock face sounded very Hitchcockesque. But when I toured the clock tower, I realized the idea wouldn’t work. The tower was too restricted and I couldn’t figure out how to get both Kate and the villain in the clock tower without resorting to breaking the rule of having Kate behave in a TSTL manner, which stands for Too Stupid To Live. (Protagonists says, “I know it’s after midnight, I’m alone, and I feel as if someone is following me, but I’ll go ahead and climb these stairs to the lonely clock tower and see what happens…”) Fortunately, when I toured the Roman Baths I found a perfect setting for the finale of the book. It was suitably mysterious, and the location had a tie with Jane Austen. The hotel as well as the owners and employees in the book are entirely fictional, but one part of the book was inspired by the hotel I stayed in while in Bath. When I learned that it was once connected to the catacombs under Bath the main points of the plot fell into place. If you go to Bath, you can tour the tunnels under the Baths, but be sure to book in advance because the tours fill up quickly.

  A quick note on the order of the books in this series. The novella Menace at the Christmas Market actually comes after this book, even though it was released before Death in an Elegant City. So chronologically, Menace is number five in the series while Elegant City is book number four. I had intended for Death in an Elegant City to come after the novella, but books often don’t behave as I expect them to when I’m writing them.