A Christmas Murder: An Eliza Thomson Investigates Murder Mystery

by VL McBeath

  Mr Bell leaned forward and put his head in his hands.

  “Are you all right?” Archie asked.

  “I think I’m still in shock. I can’t quite believe it, such a lovely woman. We should be at home by now planning what we’re doing this week, not sitting here.”

  Eliza gripped her father’s hand. “We’ll find the killer as soon as we can. We just need to get Sergeant Dixon to accept help.”

  Eliza glanced up as the drawing room door opened and the sergeant walked back in ahead of Mr Cranford.

  “Ah, Dr Thomson, there you are. I’ll speak to you next and then speak to the ladies after that.”

  Archie stood up. “Certainly, Sergeant. Perhaps I should show you the body first.”

  Eliza didn’t take her eyes off Archie as he crouched down beside the sheet, discreetly lifted a corner and pointed to the stab wound. She waited for them to leave the room before she crept forward and lifted the sheet herself.

  “What are you doing?” Connie appeared by her side. “You really shouldn’t be touching the body.”

  “I won’t touch it, but I wanted to check something.”

  Connie bent down as Eliza pointed to Rosamund’s mouth. “See this reddening? It’s only faint, but I didn’t notice it earlier. It suggests that the murderer had a hand over her mouth when they stabbed her, although the fact that the mark isn’t more prominent suggests there was no struggle.”

  Connie nodded. “That would explain why nobody heard anything. Do you think Dr Thomson noticed it?”

  “I’m not sure. I was watching them, and Archie seemed more concerned with the stab wound.”

  “You should have said something.”

  “And upset the sergeant even more?” Eliza placed a hand on her heart. “As if I’d do that.”

  “Oi, what are you two doing over there?” Mr Reed strode towards them.

  “Nothing.” Eliza straightened the sheet and hurried to her feet. “The body hadn’t been properly covered after the sergeant looked at it. I was just tidying it up. We really need to get the undertaker here now the sergeant’s seen it.”

  “They won’t be available on a Sunday evening.”

  “No, I’m aware of that. Perhaps we should move the body ourselves. I’ll mention it to Dr Thomson when he gets back. We’d better not do anything on our own.”

  Mr Reed nodded and wandered back to his seat as Eliza and Connie rejoined Mr Bell.

  “You don’t think the sergeant will blame me, do you?” Connie asked. “I promise I had the ace, but I can’t find it anywhere. I have the other cards, look.” She produced four playing cards from her pocket. “Why would the one I need be the one that’s missing?”

  Eliza shrugged. “Isn’t it always the way? You probably wanted to keep it safe and put it somewhere else.”

  Connie’s forehead puckered. “I’m sure I didn’t. I just hope the fact that I don’t have it doesn’t incriminate me.”

  “Stop worrying, it takes a lot more evidence than that to accuse someone. You were just unfortunate. It could have been any one of us who tripped over the body.”

  Connie didn’t look convinced. “I hope Sergeant Dixon sees it like that. I know some of these policemen take the easy option … and that would be me. You will stick up for me, won’t you?”

  “Of course I will.”

  Mr Bell nodded. “We all will.”

  All conversation stopped as the door opened and the sergeant led Dr Thomson back into the room.

  “I need everyone to stay in here. No exceptions,” he said to Archie.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure nobody goes out.”

  With a nod, the sergeant addressed the room. “Did you all hear that? I don’t want anyone coming or going without my express permission. In the absence of a constable, Dr Thomson has agreed to keep watch for me. Is that clear?” Sergeant Dixon waited until they all nodded. “Good.”

  “Who would you like to see next?” Archie asked.

  “Perhaps it should be me.” Eliza was on her feet.

  “No. I don’t think so, Mrs Thomson. I’d like to speak to Mrs McRae next. She was Mrs Cranford’s friend, I believe.”

  Eliza scowled at the sergeant as he led Betty from the room.

  “Sit down.” Archie tugged on her hand, but she stood firm. “There’s no point upsetting yourself. Not every police officer will let you help them with their enquiries.”

  “But he doesn’t know anything about what’s happened.”

  “Stop worrying. I told him everything we know, which if we’re being honest isn’t very much.”

  “But will he ask the right questions?”

  “Eliza, stop. You’re not the only one who’s ever solved a murder. This is what he gets paid to do.”

  “Goodness knows what Betty will tell him,” Connie said, as Eliza slumped back into her chair. “She’d like to pin the blame on me, that’s for sure, although I’ve no idea why. She was hardly likely to kill Rosamund herself.”

  Eliza sat up straight. “Or was she? If Betty didn’t do it why does she want to blame you? Could she have killed her?” Eliza turned to Archie. “Perhaps she was angry with Rosamund for talking to us and ignoring her.”

  “You can’t go blaming her without evidence,” Archie said.

  “Eliza has a point though,” Mr Bell said. “Mrs McRae’s been quite hysterical since the murder. Have you seen the look in her eyes? She may not have meant to kill Rosamund, but perhaps she couldn’t help herself.”

  “I don’t know,” Archie said. “Judging by the way she’s behaved today, I’d say she was more likely to stab her husband than Mrs Cranford.”

  “You’ve noticed that too?” Eliza asked. “I must admit, there’s been something strange going on. I don’t think they’ve said two words to each other since we arrived … other than when Mr McRae had to calm her down.”

  Betty’s shrill voice suddenly pierced the air and Eliza turned to see her standing by the door pointing at Connie. “There she is, Sergeant.”

  “Me! What about me?” Connie’s voice squeaked.

  “Look at her skirt. It’s covered in blood. She’s the one you want, I’m telling you.”

  “Given that Mrs Appleton tripped and landed on the body, it’s hardly surprising she has blood on her skirt,” Eliza said. “It doesn’t prove she wielded the knife.”

  “I told you her friend would stick up for her, didn’t I?” The pitch of Betty’s voice continued to rise. “She’s been so busy playing detective, trying to accuse everyone else. Well, I think you ought to look here first.”

  “Thank you, Mrs McRae, that will be all.” The sergeant half pushed, half guided Betty back to the chair she’d left by the fireplace. “Mrs Appleton, if you wouldn’t mind joining me in the other room.”

  Eliza was on her feet. “I’m coming with her.”

  The sergeant’s glare forced Eliza back into her seat. “Mrs Thomson, when I want to see you, I’ll ask, but at the moment I wish to speak to Mrs Appleton on her own.” He took hold of Connie’s arm. “This way, madam.”

  “I’m going to have a word with her.” Eliza glowered at Betty as she stood up but Archie pulled her back down.

  “Stay where you are; you’ll only make things worse.”

  “I can’t let her get away with accusing Connie.”

  “Just sit there for a moment and look at her.” Archie nodded in the direction of Betty. She was sitting with the Reeds, while Mr McRae sat on the other side of the fireplace with Mr Cranford. She didn’t appear to be part of either group and Mr McRae was acting as if she wasn’t there at all. “Mr Bell, how often do you see Mr and Mrs McRae together?”

  Mr Bell’s forehead creased. “Well, I see them in church most weeks but now you come to mention it, it’s rarely just the two of them. Betty is always with Rosamund and Mr McRae is usually with one or other of the gentlemen.”

  Eliza cocked her head to one side. “That’s interesting. Did you ever see Betty talking to anyone other than Rosamun
d?”

  “I can’t say I did, not without Rosamund being with her.”

  “So, if Mr and Mrs McRae aren’t seeing eye to eye, and Rosamund was Betty’s only friend, she’s going to miss her more than most. Why would she kill her?”

  “We don’t know she did,” Archie said.

  “But if it wasn’t her, why try to pin the blame on Connie? She doesn’t look as if she’s trying to defend anyone else.”

  Archie shrugged. “Maybe she’s just good at hiding it. She’s not likely to come in here and talk about it.”

  “I suppose not but we need to ask what she’s up to. I know she’s upset, but that’s no reason to accuse someone else without any evidence.”

  Eliza flicked open her notebook. “Archie, you were closest to Betty when the lights came back on; did you notice anything unusual about her? Did she seem more flustered than she had been over luncheon?”

  Archie laughed. “How could she have been any more flustered? You saw yourself she’s been hysterical most of the afternoon.”

  “That’s as may be, but…” Eliza flinched as the door flew open and Connie hurried in, tears streaming down her cheeks.

  “He thinks it’s me.” Connie pointed to Betty. “He believes her.”

  “Is that true?” Eliza stood up and faced the sergeant as he followed Connie into the room.

  “I’m keeping all lines of investigation open at the moment. Until I’ve spoken to everyone, I’m in no position to say anything.”

  “But you’re…”

  “Please, Mrs Thomson, will you stop trying to tell me how to do my job? Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to speak to Mrs Reed next.”

  Ignoring Eliza’s protests, he made his way to the far end of the room.

  “I’d like to accompany my wife, if I may.” Mr Reed spoke as the sergeant helped Mrs Reed to her feet. “This whole episode has been very upsetting for her and I won’t leave her on her own.”

  Sergeant Dixon smiled. “Yes, of course, sir. Walk this way.”

  “Why is he allowed to sit in with Mrs Reed when I couldn’t accompany Connie?” Eliza spoke to no one in particular but loud enough for everyone to hear.

  “Eliza, will you calm down?” Archie’s voice was gruff. “He said he would speak to the ladies first, which means it’ll be your turn next. Just sit quietly for a few minutes and think of what you’d like to say.”

  “I’ve already decided what I’m going to say…”

  “Well, do it in such a way that he doesn’t want to lock you up afterwards.”

  Eliza sat back in her chair and counted to ten. I bet this fellow’s never investigated a murder in his life. He’s no idea what he’s doing if he thinks Connie’s the culprit. I’ll tell him…

  By the time the sergeant returned to the room, Eliza’s breathing had calmed.

  “Right, Mrs Thomson, let’s get this done with before I speak to the gentlemen.”

  “Get this done with! Sergeant, have you any idea…?” A look from Archie forced her to take a deep breath. All right, I’ll be on my best behaviour.

  Chapter Eight

  The sergeant had clearly made himself comfortable in the morning room. The small rectangular table had been pulled into the centre of the room and the sergeant sat in an upholstered chair in front of the fire. He indicated for Eliza to sit opposite him on one of the wooden dining chairs. Compared to the drawing room, it was warm and Eliza dropped her shawl from her shoulders as she sat down.

  “Now, Mrs Thomson,” he started, “you were obviously in the room when the murder took place. Can you tell me what you were doing at the time of the incident?”

  Eliza sat up straight with her hands on her knees. “As we were playing a game of Murder in the Dark, I was wandering aimlessly around the drawing room.”

  “Yes, I appreciate that, but could you be more specific about your whereabouts?”

  “Unfortunately, I can’t, and I would suggest that nobody else in the room should have been able to either. If they’ve told you otherwise, I’m afraid they were lying because the room was almost pitch-black. What I can tell you, though, is where I was when the lights were switched back on.”

  “And where was that?”

  Eliza produced a piece of notepaper from her bag and placed it on the table, jabbing her finger in the centre. “Approximately here. As you can see, I was close to Mr McRae, but not as close to the body as Mr Reed or Mrs McRae.” She stabbed at each name on the paper as she spoke.

  The sergeant copied the image into his notebook. “And you collected this information at the time of the murder?”

  “More or less. When we heard Mrs Appleton call out, Mr Cranford switched on the lights and we saw that she had fallen over someone. We didn’t realise what had happened straight away, or even the extent of Mrs Cranford’s injuries, but I made a rough note of where everyone was standing, which is how I produced this.”

  “Why would you do that?” The sergeant’s forehead creased.

  “Because Mrs Cranford wanted me to help her be the detective in the game. I needed to be prepared, but once we realised the severity of the situation, it became even more important. While we were waiting for you to arrive, we confirmed everyone’s positions, which is what you see here.”

  The sergeant gave the paper a final glance before returning to his notebook. “How well did you know Mrs Cranford?”

  “Not well at all; we only met earlier today. She wanted to hear about the murder investigations I’d been involved with.”

  Sergeant Dixon appeared unimpressed. “And because you think you have the skills of Sherlock Holmes, you took it upon yourself to lead the questioning this afternoon.”

  Eliza flinched. “I wouldn’t put it like that, but I do have experience…”

  “And I understand you’re particularly friendly with Mrs Appleton.”

  “Yes, we’ve known each other for many years and she’s my next-door neighbour.”

  “And so it isn’t unexpected that you refuse to acknowledge she could be the murderer.”

  Eliza took a deep breath. “Sergeant, I know Mrs Appleton isn’t the murderer, because she would never do anything to hurt anyone. Even if she disliked someone, she wouldn’t dream of killing them. Why would she plunge a knife into the chest of a woman she had only just met?”

  “Are you sure about that?” Sergeant Dixon stared at Eliza. “Can you confirm with certainty that they hadn’t met at some point in the past and there was a score to settle?”

  “This is nonsense…”

  “I’m afraid it’s not, Mrs Thomson. Mrs Appleton was on top of the body when the lights were switched on and had blood on her skirt. A little too convenient to say she tripped, don’t you think?”

  “No, I don’t.” Eliza strained to keep her voice steady. “It was a terrible shock for her and she sprained her wrist into the bargain. Did you notice the blood on Mrs Reed’s skirt? There’s less of an explanation for that than there is for the stain on Mrs Appleton’s skirt, and we need to find out how it got there.”

  The sergeant made a note in his book. “Mrs Reed was sitting quietly on the settee when the murder happened; we can hardly accuse her.”

  “Sergeant, I hope you’re not going to continue with this line of thinking because if you are, you’ll leave me no choice but to contact Inspector Adams, an acquaintance of mine from New Scotland Yard. He’ll vouch for the fact that Mrs Appleton would do no such thing and he won’t take kindly to another suspect being eliminated from the enquiry quite so easily.”

  A smirk spread across the sergeant’s face. “Mrs Thomson, I’m sure this inspector of yours has better things to do than settle petty squabbles.”

  “Accusing my friend of murder is not some petty squabble and if you think Inspector Adams won’t call to sort out your mess, then I suggest you speak to my father, Mr Bell. He happens to be on good terms with him too.”

  “Your father knows him?”

  “Yes, and for your information, I’ve helped the i
nspector with several investigations over the last couple of years. Now, if you don’t want me to trouble him, I’d advise you to wipe that smile off your face and consider who the real murderer is and what their motive could be. Everyone in the room had the opportunity to plunge the knife into poor Mrs Cranford but not all of us had a motive.”

  “We don’t know that.”

  Eliza took a deep breath. “You might not, but let’s put that to one side for now. Did you find out anything of any significance from the people you’ve already spoken to? What about Mr Cranford? Husbands are often guilty of murdering their wives. Did you sense any motive he may have had?”

  The sergeant shook his head. “The man was too upset; I couldn’t get a word out of him.”

  “Maybe that’s because he’s the killer. Did you think of that? It might have seemed like a good idea at the time, but once Mrs Cranford was dead, and he realised what he’d done, he could have become racked with guilt. He wouldn’t be the first man to find himself in such a situation.”

  “Mrs Thomson, that’s a preposterous suggestion. Mr and Mrs Cranford were regular churchgoers, and the man is overcome with grief…”

  Eliza sighed. “Going to church doesn’t exonerate him. I’m sure most convicted killers have been to church at some point in their lives. What about Mr and Mrs Reed? You saw them together despite the fact you refused to let me join Mrs Appleton.”

  “A man has a duty to care for his wife. Of course I let him join her.”

  “Unfortunately, Mrs Appleton no longer has a husband to care for her, but she needed someone with her just as much as Mrs Reed did.”

  Sergeant Dixon straightened his back and pulled himself up to his full height. “I won’t deny a man who wants to help his wife. If Dr Thomson had wanted to join you, or if he’d offered to escort Mrs Appleton, then I wouldn’t have objected.”

  “Oh, that’s all right then.” Eliza couldn’t keep the sarcasm from her voice.

  “Mrs Thomson, that’s enough. Mrs Reed was terribly upset. She’d fainted when the body was found and was still unsteady on her feet. Would you deny her assistance?”