by Belle Astor
"How did you find me?"
"With my keen detective skills, George. Now tell me, what's happening."
Nothing had happened at all. George was bored and annoyed having wasted his free day.
"Look, George, that woman. Is that Mrs. Jenkins?" The woman didn't look familiar to her. The woman and a man had exited a house and were having words.
"That's them, alright. It seems that Mrs. Jenkins and her brother are from Russia. I wondered if that was the accent you heard."
But Maisie disappeared from his side. She had to get closer to hear his voice. But if he was the man from the alleyway, he knew what she looked like. Maisie had to be careful but they'd learn nothing by sitting and watching. This wasn't a very smart plan, I should have thought it through a bit more, Maisie said to herself. Suddenly aware of Mrs. Jenkins and her brother coming towards her. Maisie dropped to the ground as though fixing the buckle of her Mary Jane.
It seemed she was unnoticed. As the sister and brother continued talking in their mother tongue. Maisie looked across at George who had gone so pale. Once they were out of sight, George ran towards her.
"You will be the death of me, Maisie Mills," he said. "So, was that the accent you heard?"
Maisie nodded. It was indeed the language, but Peter Pedrov wasn't the man in the alley.
"Are you sure? You did get a nasty bang to the head?"
"I am certain of it, George. The men in the alley both had very deep voices. It wasn't this man, but at least we know it was Russian. Does that help?"
George shook his head. They had so many pieces of this puzzle, but they didn't seem to fit together at all.
"I hope Detective Blake has better luck."
"Don't sound so disappointed George. We'll figure this out, I promise. If we connect the pieces somehow or find one more piece, then everything would fit together. I remember one time, Aunt Alice bought me a jigsaw puzzle. I couldn't get the pieces to go together. It turns out when I turned the box over to spill out the pieces, one piece had disappeared under the couch. It was the last piece of the puzzle and I was so frustrated until I found."
In her daydream, Maisie found that missing piece to discover the murderer. George didn't figure in it. Maisie, in a fabulous flapper dress, was holding a press conference to reveal the killer. The camera lights flashed in her eyes. She was being celebrated as the greatest female detective in the world.
"Maisie, do you want to go home?"
She was brought back to full awareness.
"What were you thinking about?" George queried as her eyes were still glossed over.
"I was just thinking how wonderful it would be for you to reveal the killer."
She noticed how George's cheeks flushed.
"I would like to be a detective someday, but I'm not nearly as good as Detective Blake."
"But George, if you were a detective, you'd have a George doing all the heavy lifting. I don't see Detective Blake here." Maisie paused with her arms outstretched and looked around for effect.
"What now, Maisie? It seems you have cleared the wife and her brother of the murder. What about the landlady? Why did the victim have the letter? Was it from Mrs. Leech?"
"Let's go back to Mrs. Hopkins. We need to write down what we know and actually lay the pieces out like a puzzle."
George and Maisie were preoccupied on their return to Mrs. Hopkins.
"Mrs. Hopkins, George and I need your table to work something out. Please don't disturb us," Maisie called out as she gathered a pencil and tore up sheets of paper.
There were indeed so many good leads. The wife, her brother, the landlady. There were the Russian men. The hair on the coat. The note. The poison. Why no identification? Maisie was exasperated. The more she looked at the clues, the more confused she became.
"George, I'm going to call on Mrs. Leech again. I think she knows more. With Mrs. Jenkins coming on the scene, I let it slip my mind. Her reaction to the news of his death was a little more than one would expect from a landlady. I know Mrs. Hopkins would be upset if anything happened to one of us but we're like family. That was not the case at Mrs. Leech's. Could the love letter have been to Mrs. Leech? George do we know anything more about it. Plus she called him "John" and then corrected herself."
"Well, now that you mention that. Detective Blake thinks it's a real love poem that was published in some book or other. He has a friend who teaches literature, and he'll ask him about it."
Maisie had a headache from thinking. She needed a break.
"I'll make us some tea, and we can come back to it."
"Maisie, you and the detective would work very well together. This is what he does, but he uses a blackboard."
"How clever of him," Maisie chuckled as she opened the door to leave the room and Katie fell the door.
"Katie, what are you doing? I thought you were out with Lizzie and Lily."
Katie got all defensive.
"I was with them for a while but… I'm not doing anything wrong, I was passing and thought I heard a sound. You're so suspicious Maisie."
"Okay, I only asked. Relax. I'm not accusing you of anything. I got a shock."
Maisie was confused by Katie's reaction. Why didn't she come in? Why eavesdrop? Katie was still upset about what happened with her gentleman friend. Perhaps she was afraid Maisie was revealing her secret to George. Poor Katie.
Even drinking tea and looking at the pieces of paper, Maisie didn't come to any new assessment of the case.
"George, we're missing something. Are you sure you're not holding out on me? We know he was poisoned. Poison is a woman's instrument of death. Why do women kill? For love, for insurance, out of jealousy," Maisie paused and rubbed her chin.
"Mrs. Leech said she was a widow. She has very fine looking belongings. George, look into how her husband died. Do you think it's an insurance job. If she did it once, she may have done it again. I need to talk with her again. Our John Smith/Henry Jenkins may even have had other names…"
A thud came from outside the door. Maisie ran to open it, but there was no one although she was sure she saw Katie's door close. A knock on the front door, caused Maisie to break her train of thought.
It was a delivery man.
"I have a delivery for Miss…."
"Katie, it's for you," Maisie shouted up the stairs before the man had finished speaking. Katie was in receipt of many deliveries of flowers and gifts from her gentlemen friends.
Katie came out of her room.
"What is it?"
"It's for you."
Katie wasn't her usual self. Usually, she came running to the town to show off her gifts. But today she just walked down the stairs. She had taken off her makeup and Maisie remarked how young she looked without it.
"So what is it. I can see the flowers but what's in the boxes. Who are they from?"
Katie opened the smaller box first. A diamond necklace and earrings made the girls gasp. The diamonds glistened, and the effect on the girls brought George into the hallway.
"Are they real?" George asked.
"Yes. I can spot a fake a mile away," Katie sighed as she spoke.
She opened the box, and she lifted out a beautiful golden beaded silk dress.
"What are you going to do, Katie?" Maisie watched her face as Katie read the card.
"We'll know in an hour. He is calling to take me to dinner."
George found their behavior strange.
"I thought young ladies loved being showered with gifts and the real McCoy. Now that's something to get giddy about."
"George, why don't you put the flowers in a vase. Mrs. Hopkins will help you. Katie, I'll help you carry these to your room."
"Katie, you can't possibly be thinking of taking him back."
Katie lay the dress and jewels on her bed.
"He said he was sorry and wants to make it up to me. Maisie I'm not going to struggle in life. I can't. We had nothing growing up. The man I marry has to have money. And if he gets a bit rough, well
at least I get wonderful gifts. I could marry a poor man and still get roughed up."
Maisie didn't understand Katie's rationale. The girl had been in floods of tears this morning, and now she was going to go out on a date with the man who had attacked her. It wasn't a behavior Maisie would ever tolerate.
"Don't judge me, Maisie. I want to be taken care of. I'm not like you, independent. You think I'm silly for opening my heart. But he is a good man."
"A good man wouldn't force himself on you, Katie. I don't care what else you say. But I can see you've made up your mind."
A book on Katie's dresser caught Maisie's eye.
"What's this?"
"He's a romantic man. He had given me this book of love letters. When I came home, I started reading it again. A bad man wouldn't give me such a book. Maisie, I've misjudged him. It was just a silly disagreement. Really it was."
Maisie thumbed through the book.
"I don't agree with what you are doing, Katie. But I am here for you when he mistreats you again. I'll leave you to get ready."
Maisie felt deflated as she left Katie's room. Was being in a relationship so important that Katie would tolerate such behavior?
"I don't know where to put the flowers," George smiled at Maisie.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"I can't tell you."
Maisie didn't want to break Katie's confidence but he might know what to do. As a policeman, George knew about human behavior. At least Maisie reckoned he had seen a lot of harsh realities.
"George, if a man treats a woman badly, do you think it could be a mistake? That it would not happen again."
"Is this to do with Katie?"
Maisie's eyes opened. George was detective material alright.
"You forget I saw them too. No man should ever hit a woman, but I saw him strike her. I didn't want to say anything to you. I was about to intervene when Katie hit him back and when I saw her get out of the car, I didn't get involved. We see these types of domestic disputes all the time. At first, the woman wants us to arrest the man but invariably changes her mind. I think we'll have to stand by and be there when she comes to her senses. She won't thank you if you try to stop her."
Maisie knew George was right. Katie was proud. It wasn't the time to push her away.
"I'll get the lads at the station to keep an eye on the man if that would ease your mind."
"George, would you do that? It would make feel better. I only wished she worked at the exchange, then we would watch her all the time."
Before she knew what was happening, Maisie threw her arms around George. He was so good and kind. He pushed away from her. Unsure of what had happened.
"I'd better get back to the station and give a report to Detective Blake. Let Lily know I'll come by tomorrow for a visit."
Maisie couldn't suppress a giggle. If only Katie would see how a good man like George would be worth more than all the jewels in the world. George could certainly show Katie how a woman should be treated. Poor George, Maisie was sure she had confounded him.
Lily and Lizzie were coming towards the house. George had paused to talk to them. Maisie smiled. She was lucky to have such good friends. It was a pity that Katie wasn't more like them.
Chapter Eight
Maisie wanted to talk to Mrs. Leech again. There was definitely more to her relationship with the deceased. Especially now that it seemed Mrs. Jenkins and her brother were in the clear, at least in Maisie's estimation.
Putting this thought to one side, she watched as Lily and Lizzie admired Katie's new glad rags. Katie had joined them in the drawing area. Maisie knew Katie was putting on an act. There was a change in her demeanor.
"Katie, does your beau have a brother?" Lizzie asked in fun, but Katie shot her a look.
"No, and you be thankful you have your policeman."
Lizzie's feelings were hurt. However, Maisie knew what Katie was trying to say. Lily was admiring the necklace and earrings. Lizzie settled for looking out the window.
"You'd better go. A car has just stopped outside."
Katie look terrified as she looked at Maisie.
"Let him come to the door. A gentleman should escort his date to her carriage," Maisie said as she went to fix Katie's hair. "If you don't want to go, I'll give your excuses," she whispered into Katie's ear.
The doorbell chimed, and Lily ran to open the door. A very dashing man came through. Maisie thought Lily would faint and an audible breath escaped from Lizzie. He looked like Rudolph Valentino, and Maisie had difficulty keeping her own composure. The man took Lily's hand and kissed it. Lizzie came forward, and he took her hand to kiss it too.
"I'm ready," Katie said, drawing her beau's attention.
"My dahling, don't you look divine. I knew you couldn't stay angry with me. Let us go."
He proffered his arm and Katie slipped her arm through. They left, but Lizzy and Lizzie stayed watching them. Lizzie began to fan herself as she fell into the couch in a pretend faint.
"Did you ever see such a handsome couple? They looked like movie stars. Katie should go to Hollywood. I don't think I've ever been that close to such a man before. I can't see him on a construction site."
Lily laughed as Lizzie went on.
"What an accent. 'My dahling, you look divine.' Where do you think he was from?" Lily and Lizzie were like schoolgirls, excited by the movie star type they had met. Maisie would have joined in except, she knew where the man was from.
"He's from Russia." A cold shiver had run through her. She had recognized the accent. In fact, she recognized the voice.
He was the man from the telephone.
"How do you know? Why have you gone pale?" They asked.
"I need to talk to George, but I have to see someone. Lily, you tell George that Katie is dating the man from the phone. He'll understand," Maisie said. Lily looked puzzled as having to deliver such information. "Ask him to look into this man. Did anyone get his name?"
They shook their heads. No one knew the man's name. Katie never said. Maisie was irritated. But what was she to do? Mrs. Leech held the key she was sure of this but could Katie be involved. As Maisie walked to Mrs. Leech's house, she cast her mind back over the last few days. Katie had been eavesdropping when she spoke to George. She was involved with this shady character. But she didn't work at the exchange. What was her connection with the victim?
But, Maisie's focus was interrupted. She got the feeling that she was being watched. Pretending to look in a store window, Maisie tried to catch a glimpse of anyone lingering behind her. The people walking behind her had moved on by the time she had gotten a good look. "It's my imagination," she told herself as she set off again. Wanting to be more vigilant, Maisie stopped thinking about the case. She still couldn't shake the feeling that she was being followed.
Maisie wondered what excuse she'd give for calling on Mrs. Leech. Maisie couldn't come up with any plausible excuse. She was too preoccupied with concerns about who was following her. Mrs. Leech opened the door and took a moment to recognize Maisie.
"Miss Clara. Come on through. How is that policeman?" Maisie looked at Mrs. Leech, what was the woman talking about?
The woman welcomed her in. Maisie had momentarily forgotten she'd given a false first name. It didn't seem right to correct Mrs. Leech. As they walked along the hall, two of the male boarders were going out. "Remember the door is bolted at 11 pm," Mrs. Leech said very assertively. She reminded Maisie of Miss Carnegie.
"I was about to have my supper. Would you care to join me, Clara?"
Maisie agreed. People were more relaxed while they ate and it would be a good way to get Mrs. Leech to open up.
"Officer Bantry is very well. His sister lives in my boarding house." Maisie hoped this would explain their knowledge of each other. Maisie sat at the table as Mrs. Leech set another place.
"There's plenty, so don't be shy. I miss cooking for Mr. Leech."
Maisie ate the stew which was almost on par with Mrs. Hopkins.
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br /> "This is very good, Mrs. Leech." They made small talk as they ate. Mrs. Leech was happy to have the company.
"Ready for some coffee."
Mrs. Leech told Maisie how she worked as a cook in a military hospital during the Great War. There was a loneliness about Mrs. Leech. Had this made her vulnerable to the charms of John Smith.
"Mrs. Leech, pardon me if I have the wrong impression. But I get the sense that you and Mr. Henry Jenkins were on friendlier terms."
"That was his real name? Henry." Maisie nodded. "It suits him. And you are very observant. John, I mean Henry, had a way of making you feel special." Mrs. Leech's looked off into the distance. "I'm not an attractive woman, but in John's company, I felt like the most beautiful woman in the world. He was different to the others.
As I said, I keep cooking like it's for me and my husband, so it takes it toll on one's figure. You young things don't need to worry about your figures. But one day, you'll want the corset back to give you some semblance of a waist. I never expected a man to notice me in that way again.
Don't get me wrong. I run a respectable house. These men need discipline especially as I'm on my own. But John. You know I found him sitting outside reading poetry. I'm not sure if most any of the men who board with me read and there he was, reading poetry. It was romantic. From that time he would come by in the afternoons and read to me."
Maisie was right. There was something between them. But why the afternoons?
"What did John do for work if he was free in the afternoons?" Maisie asked.
"I'm afraid I don't know. He paid his rent on time every week, and I enjoyed his company too much to ask him questions. I did ask him once. But he said it was complicated, and he changed the subject. That detective asked the same question too. He wanted to search John's room, but I had already rented it out."
"Did he tell you why he was leaving?"
Mrs. Leech dabbed her eyes. "He told me he had some business to sort out, but he would come back. John asked me to marry him. He even gave me his book of love poems. It meant he'd come back to me."
The book was on her sideboard.
