“Liar! You’re lying!” Daphne shouted.
“Sister, control yourself!” Lily said. She looked appalled by Daphne’s behavior.
“Control myself?” Daphne roared. She spun around, staring at everyone as if daring them to challenge her. “I’m not the one who is lying, trying to get my hands on our fortune.”
Tina looked miserable, but her gaze was steady when she met Daphne’s accusing glance. “I’m not lying. You can call my doctor if you want.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Liam said. “We believe you, and both you and your child will be cared for, just as Geoffrey would have wanted.”
He put his hand on her shoulder. I glanced at Viv to see if she was getting this. I thought this spoke very well of Liam and wondered if she was thinking the same.
Rose left the piano and went to sit in the chair beside Tina. She didn’t say anything but patted her sister-in-law’s hands where they were clasped in her lap in an obvious show of support.
I glanced at Daphne, who looked like she was frothing at the mouth. I have to admit I was a little bit afraid of her.
“Well, we can see you have some personal business to mind, so we’ll just carry on back to our shop,” Viv said.
“But it’s just getting interesting,” George whispered in my ear.
I glanced at him and saw the mischief sparkle in his eyes. I refused to smile and encourage him and tried to give him my best censoring glance, but he didn’t appear hampered at all by it. Clearly, I needed to work on that.
Viv was out the door and I scooted right after her, calling a general good-bye over my shoulder. I saw Lily kneel beside Tina and put a comforting arm about her shoulders. This made me feel better. I didn’t want Tina to feel abandoned, but between Liam, Rose, Lily and George, she looked to be in good hands. Hopefully, they would all run interference and shut Daphne down.
“Well, if that wasn’t the equivalent of dropping a bomb, I don’t know what is,” Viv said as soon as the elevator doors closed behind us.
“Poor Tina,” I said. “Here Geoffrey was giving her such a hard time about getting pregnant, and now she is and he’s dead.”
“I suppose they’ll keep her in the family until they know whether she’s having a boy or a girl,” Viv said.
“Well, I think if Liam has anything to do with it, he’ll make sure she’s provided for,” I said. “He seemed very solicitous of her, didn’t he?”
“Yes, yes, he did,” Viv said. She glanced away from me and I couldn’t tell what she was thinking. Very irritating.
The elevator doors opened and we crossed through the opulent lobby to outside. The streets were crowded with people and the sound of car engines as they growled their way through the traffic.
I could hear smatterings of different languages as I followed behind Viv. It was too crowded to walk side by side. It reminded me a bit of market day on Portobello Road, crowded and noisy as people worked their way to their various destinations.
We hurried down the entrance to the Underground. Viv scanned her Oyster card and I followed behind her in the turnstile. The white brick tunnel led us down several flights of stairs until we got to our platform. In minutes the train arrived and we hopped on board.
We only had a few stops and then we switched trains and were soon jostling our way back to Notting Hill Gate on the Cental Line. The Underground train stopped and we both lurched forward. There had been no seats available, so we were standing.
The automated female voice of the Underground announced the next stop, which was ours, and we took our positions by the door. We hadn’t talked much and I wondered if Viv was thinking about the Grisby family as much as I was or if she was designing hats in her head. She did that a lot.
When the doors opened, we rode the two escalators up and then climbed the stairs to Notting Hill Gate. It was a bit of a walk back to our shop, but the day was sunny and warm with a cool breeze. I matched my steps to Viv’s as we cut through Pembridge Mews. I knew Harrison lived somewhere along this stretch of row houses, but I refused to look for him.
“Who do you think killed Geoffrey?” I asked, more to distract myself than for a real answer.
Viv stopped and turned to look at me.
“What?” I asked. “Come on, you must have someone in mind.”
“Actually, I was thinking it was probably a freak accident,” she said.
“Formaldehyde in his hat, an accident?” I asked. “How do you figure?”
“Well, if I knew that, I’d be a detective, now, wouldn’t I?” she asked.
“He was murdered,” I said, ignoring her question.
“Now, why do you say that?” she asked. “It could have been an accident.”
“The police don’t seem to think so,” I said. “Don’t you find it suspicious that his father’s mistress threatened him and hours later he’s dead? Or how about Daphne? She’s practically psychotic about the whole inheritance situation.”
We turned off Pembridge Road to Portobello Road. The sidewalk was narrow and our shoulders brushed as we walked. Viv’s high heels made her a bit taller than me, and I remembered that when we were girls I was always trying to be as tall as she was. I was an inch taller than her when we finally topped out, but she always wore high heels, which kept her even or taller. Today she was a smidge taller. I felt a flicker of the old competitiveness about height, which was ridiculous, but cousins, like siblings, I suppose, always have a teeny bit of competitiveness amongst them.
“Inspector Finchley is just being thorough,” Viv said. “I bet they discover that a cleaning lady accidentally doused his hat in some chemical that had formaldehyde in it and that’s what has caused the whole hullabaloo. Perhaps it was just a severe allergic reaction.”
“You’re not serious,” I said.
“Of course I am,” she said. “Listen, I grant that his sisters certainly have motive, but I don’t believe that they did him in, not even Daphne, who is the most vocal about her bitterness toward the terms of the estate. In fact, it is her very loud complaining that makes me think she is innocent. If she had done him in, she’d be playing the grieving sister, not the bitter daughter.”
The road sloped down and we continued on our way, passing Andre’s studio shop and several others until we reached Mim’s Whims. The door was unlocked and Fee was behind the counter, helping a stout-looking woman with a wide-brimmed bucket hat in a startling shade of fuchsia.
“Well, if you follow that logic,” I said, “then the person who is grieving the most, Tina, would be the likely suspect because she seems so wrenched by the loss of her husband.”
“Yes, her lying, cheating and possibly abusive husband,” Viv said. “A real tragedy for her, I’m sure.”
With a chipper hello to Fee she kept walking toward the back room, but I stood in the center of the shop, feeling stunned.
Could Viv be right? Was it an accident? And if it wasn’t, could Tina be guilty? I hated to even think it, but I couldn’t deny that since she was pregnant her motive was hard to beat.
Chapter 19
“Do you really believe that the old bird has no idea what’s going on? That she’s not even aware that her son is dead?” Nick asked. “I mean that’s just mental.”
Nick, Andre, Fee, Viv and I were sacked out in the front of the shop, eating our way through several cartons of Thai food and a couple of bottles of wine. We had drawn all of the blinds down over the windows and locked the door. Viv and I had spent the past fifteen minutes while we divided up the takeaway order, telling them all about our afternoon adventure.
It was a noisy conversation with Nick and Andre bellowing in outrage at Daphne’s horrid behavior. They were so loud, in fact, that we didn’t hear the front door open until a voice called out.
“What’s this? Are you having a party and didn’t invite me?” Harrison stood in the doorway, holding a bakery
box in his hands.
Fee shot up from her seat and crossed the room toward him. She kissed his cheek and peeked inside the box. “Oh, cupcakes!”
He grinned at her as she took the box and brought it back to the table. Viv stood and kissed Harrison’s cheek while Andre grabbed a chair from nearby and brought it over for Harrison to sit in, shoving it right next to mine. Nick shook Harrison’s hand and wagged the wine bottle at him. Harrison gave him an enthusiastic nod while he dropped into the seat beside me.
“So, what’s the occasion?” Harrison asked.
Before Viv or I could derail him, Andre said, “The girls were just telling us about their adventures with the Grisby family.”
“What?” Harrison bellowed. He turned and glowered at me.
I refused to engage but merely poked my pad Thai with my plastic fork. Nick had brought the food all the way from the Thai restaurant housed in the pub The Churchill Arms on Kensington Church Street, and I wasn’t about to let it get cold.
“Harrison, it’s not what you think,” Viv said.
“Not what I think?” he repeated. “Please tell me what I think.”
Nick handed him a wineglass and Harrison gulped it down in one long swallow.
Nick and Andre exchanged a look, which clearly said they were delighted to have front-row seats for this show.
“We didn’t go to the Grisby estate,” Viv said. “We were merely having afternoon tea at the Savoy when we ran into George—you know, Daphne’s son.”
“Uh-huh.”
Harrison was still glaring at me. I could feel the heat of his gaze on the side of my face. I kept moving my noodles around my plate like they were racing each other to the finish line, which was my mouth.
“And what do you have to say for yourself, Scarlett?” he asked.
I shoved a forkful of the spicy noodles into my pie hole and indicated that I couldn’t talk with my mouth full. He glowered.
“Of all the irresponsible, juvenile, reckless, wrong-headed—” He began a tirade that I desperately wanted to interrupt, but I couldn’t unless I risked spitting noodles all over the both of us.
I chewed vigorously, washing down my mouthful with a slug of wine. Harrison was still going strong.
“—ridiculous, foolish, idiotic . . .” He paused to hold his wineglass out for a refill, and I jumped in.
“It was not,” I protested. “We simply had tea. I promised you we wouldn’t go near the estate, and we didn’t, but now that I think on it, you had no right to ask me to make such a promise.”
“I have every right,” he protested. He tossed back his second glass before continuing. “I am your business manager. It is my job to look after you just like it was my uncle’s job to look after Mim.”
“You are to look after our accounts,” I snapped. “Not us. I am a grown woman and I will go where I want when I want and I bloody well don’t need your permission.”
“Oh, you’re tapping into your inner Brit there,” Viv said. She was smiling at me in approval. “She’s right, Harrison, you really do treat us like we don’t have a brain between us.”
Harrison looked at Nick and Andre. “Help me out, mates: tell them they need to stay away from this mess.”
“I would,” Nick said. “But I’m the teensiest bit afraid of her.”
“Me?” I asked. “Really?”
“I saw what you did to that cake,” he said.
“Oh, right,” I said. I had shown Nick and Andre the video that had gone viral of me throwing fistfuls of cake at my unbeknownst-to-me married boyfriend. I flexed my right arm and looked at Harrison. “You should be afraid, too.”
He glanced at the cupcake box on the table. “Take your best shot.”
“Don’t you dare,” Fee said. She covered the box with her upper body. “These are from Buttercup Cake Shop around the corner, and they have my favorite rose-flavored one.”
“Fine,” I said. “Still, you’re not the boss of me, Harry.”
“Harrison,” he corrected with a grimace. “And actually, I am the boss of you. Tell her, Viv.”
“Tell me what?” I asked Viv.
She was studying the inside of the cupcake box as if all of her future happiness resided on picking the right cupcake. It was clearly a ploy to avoid me, although I did appreciate the seriousness of the decision at hand.
“Viv,” I said. “Explain.”
“It’s nothing,” she said. Both Andre and Nick were hovering over the box. Fee had already grabbed a gorgeous pink cupcake that made me drool just a bit at the sight of it.
“Halfsies?” Nick negotiated with Andre as they both went for a vanilla cupcake with what looked like a thick carpet of vanilla shavings on top.
“Hey!” Viv protested. “I wanted that one.”
“Oh, for Pete’s sake,” I cried. “Would you all quit it with the cupcakes and explain what Harrison is talking about?”
Viv turned to me, her blue eyes wide. “Are you yelling?”
“No!” I cried. I lowered my voice. “Maybe—just please explain what he means.”
Harrison had reached around me and selected a chocolate cupcake also with a thick layer of chocolate shavings on top. It was all I could do not to snatch it out of his hands if for no other reason than to wipe the smug look off of his face. Plus, I really love chocolate.
“When Harrison’s uncle turned over his duty as business manager, some changes were made to the original contract,” Viv said.
“Why wasn’t I told?” I asked.
“You were, actually,” Viv said. “The changes were sent by certified letter and you signed off on it. I believe you were caught up in your personal life at the time.”
I felt a warm flush heat my face. This was Viv’s nice way of saying I had been blowing off her and the business for my boyfriend, currently known as the rat bastard. Aren’t bad life decisions great? Every time you think you’ve moved on, they come back to bite you in the unsuspecting butt.
“What were the changes?” I asked.
“Only that . . .” Viv shoved a bite of pistachio cupcake in her mouth and talked through it, making her answer unintelligible.
“Beg pardon?” I asked.
“I have final approval over any and all business decisions,” Harrison said. His cupcake was already gone and he wiped his fingers on his napkin.
“Meaning what exactly?” I asked.
“You can’t sell the business or refinance or move or, well, basically, anything unless I approve it.”
I frowned. “And why did this come about?”
Viv and Harrison exchanged a glance. Viv looked a bit guilty and Harrison disapproving. I really didn’t need more to go on than that. It was pretty clear that the arrangement had been made to save Viv from her impulsive self.
“All right,” I said. “I can see where it could be a system of checks and balances.”
“Quite right,” Nick chimed in. “Always smart to have a second opinion.”
I gave him a look and he resumed chomping on his cupcake.
“But I don’t see how you think it gives you the right to tell us what we can and can’t do when it comes to visiting clients,” I said to Harrison.
“‘Clients’ is the key word,” he said. “Tina isn’t your friend. She’s a client. The reason you’re in this mess is because you were working for the Grisby family, making this a business association, therefore giving me the right to tell you to stop—for the good of the business, of course.”
While he spoke, I could feel my temper getting hot. I don’t like being told what to do. In fact, usually, when I am told what to do I do the opposite out of sheer contrariness. What can I say? I’m flawed like that.
“Fine,” I said. “You want us to stop having anything to do with the Grisbys and as ‘the boss’ you feel you have the right to demand that. Yes?�
��
“That sounds a bit harsh,” Harrison said. His brows lowered in a frown over his bright-green eyes and his mouth twisted to one side in an unhappy pucker.
“Yes or no?” I asked as I rose to stand. I dumped my dinner plate in a nearby trash can.
“Well, then yes, I do think I have the right as your manager to insist,” he said.
“All right,” I said. I brushed my hands together over the trash, getting rid of any crumbs. “Then I quit.”
I heard a collective gasp. Viv and Andre both called my name, but I had already turned on my heel and bolted for the stairs that led up to our apartment. On the scale of dramatic exits, this was a solid seven. I slammed the door behind me, discouraging anyone from following.
I didn’t stop until I reached my bedroom upstairs, where I slammed the door again, hoping that they heard it all the way downstairs.
Miffed, piqued, perturbed—all were dramatic understatements to how I was feeling. My palms positively itched with wanting to slap someone, but of course, I would never.
The nerve of Harrison Wentworth to think he’s the boss of me. I grabbed my laptop off of my desk and moved to my bed, where I could open up the pertinent files while lying down. Now that I knew the situation, I would not rest until I had read through the previously ignored paperwork and corrected anything that declared Harrison in charge.
• • •
I woke up to a soft knocking on my door. It took a minute for it to penetrate my sleep fog and when it did I found myself fully clothed and snuggling my laptop like it was a teddy bear.
“Scarlett, are you all right?”
It was Viv’s voice. I thought about ignoring her, but I knew she’d just come in.
“What do you want?” I asked.
The door pushed open and Viv walked in cautiously as if she expected me to lob a pillow at her head.
“Still wobbly?” she asked.
“If by that do you mean am I still mad, yes,” I said.
Viv sighed and sat down on the end of the bed. “Listen, I’m sorry this was such a shock for you, but truly, I sent the paperwork and you did sign it.”
Death of a Mad Hatter (A Hat Shop Mystery) Page 15
