by Beth Byers
Clara nodded.
“And Barty and Robbie?”
Clara nodded again.
“I need to see their rooms,” Violet told her. Her expression was pure daring.
Clara paused for long enough to make Violet wonder what she’d do if Clara didn’t comply. Perhaps, she’d just bribe her way into a room or get Rita to do so. Clara took a deep breath and nodded. “I don’t think any of them have anything to do this with the murder, but if it will get you closer to an answer, even if it is only to rule them out, I’ll help.”
Violet and Clara returned to the lobby where Clara got extra keys from the man at the desk with pretty lies and they made their way to the rooms.
“Barty’s first,” Clara said. “He’ll be the hardest to appease if he gets back to the hotel first. I haven’t particularly cared what Gertrude thought of me since she tossed aside Maria.”
Violet didn’t care whose room they searched first. She wanted to smirk at Jack and tell him that she’d get to search her bushes after all and write a treatise if she wanted, but she had a soon-to-be cousin along. Violet went straight to the desk, digging through the papers. She found a small, black book with names and addresses that were primarily female. At the sight, she lifted her brows. It had all kinds of small notes. Violet tucked it into her pocket without a modicum of regret.
She took a whole pile of personal letters as well, wrapping them up in brown paper from a package and then turned to Clara. The girl had looked under the bed, through all the drawers, and ran her hand behind the wardrobe.
“There’s nothing that I can find. I went through his luggage too, but it’s empty. I even felt for something in the lining, but you can tell there’s nothing there.”
“Does he have any books?”
Clara scoffed and shook her head. No pages to search then.
“Are you taking his personal letters?”
Violet nodded. Perhaps Clara deserved a bit of an explanation. “I’ll do whatever is necessary to keep Jack free.”
Clara just smiled wickedly. “I’d do the same for Algie.”
“Then we’re agreed.”
Violet let Clara lead the way to Robbie’s room, but as they opened the door, it was opened from the inside. Oh! Why hadn’t they knocked first? Clara gasped and stepped back and then blinked in surprise at a man in a sharp black suit.
“Mr. Yardley?”
“Miss Roche,” Mr. Yardley said. “Pardon me, ma’am. The maid noticed some damage, and I was just examining what needed to be done.”
He lied smoothly, but Violet noted the maid behind him with twitching lips. Blonde marcelled waves, brilliant blue eyes, curvy frame, holding a basket behind her. Rita’s and Violet’s gazes met.
“Have you been to the fiancé’s room yet?” Violet asked.
Rita shook her head as Mr. Yardley said, “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”
“Oh, it’s all right, Mr. Yardley,” Clara said. “I’m afraid we’re up to the same hijinks. What if we shut this door and leave you to it, and you don’t visit Miss Campbell’s room?”
Mr. Yardley’s expression never changed, keeping a perfectly calm expression even as he shut the door in Violet’s and Clara’s face.
“Did you find anything?” Violet whispered to Rita.
She shook her head. “Most of them except Clara and Mr. Roche senior leave when the rest think they’re in bed. Gertrude gets in a regular car after Barty leaves. Robbie comes and goes as he wishes. He doesn’t try to hide it. The other two bribe their way in and out back doors and pay servants to say they were in places they weren’t.”
“A regular car? How odd,” Violet said. “She must have hired someone to take her about when she could be free of her fiancé.”
“Let’s toss Gertrude’s room,” Clara said and Violet winked a goodbye to both Yardley and Rita. This time, Clara knocked on the door and waited. There was no answer after a couple of minutes.
“I think we’re clear to go in, dear.”
“Mr. Yardley gave me such a turn,” Clara whispered. “My hands are trembling still.”
Violet took the key from Clara and unlocked the door. She called, “Housekeeping!” and waited for an answer that didn’t come.
Violet hurried through digging in Gertrude’s papers, finding nothing. Not a single paper, a single letter, nothing. She glanced away from the desk and found Clara strewing Gertrude’s clothes about the room.
“This way,” Clara said as she continued, careful to step on one of the finer nightgowns, “Barty will assume his things were rifled as well and for some reason they took his papers. He’s not very bright, really. His need to gamble rides him like he’s the pony instead of the man.”
“It seems like a good reason to kill someone,” Violet said, lifting her brow at Clara. “Do you think your cousin killed Theo?”
Clara didn’t answer, and Violet turned up from where she was flipping through books to examine her cousin’s fiancé. The girl was carefully avoiding Violet’s gaze and shuffling through the drawers without really looking at anything.
“Do that more carefully,” Violet told the girl, leaving the subject of Barty behind. Vi would ask about Robbie when she didn’t need Clara’s careful attention.
The two of them worked quickly, leaving the room a disaster with several things damaged just enough. Even with all of that, Violet didn’t find one single thing in Gertrude’s room that was worthy of note.
“Does she not get letters from friends and family?”
“She does.”
Violet’s mouth twisted as she glanced through the room again. There was utterly nothing. Then Violet sighed. “If there’s anything to find it has to be in your suite. You’ll need to search it. Have Algie invite your father to meet mine. Have him take along the lads and then send Gertrude away because you’re ill.”
“She’ll just expect me to go to my room and she’ll use the suite. The sitting room there really is more comfortable than our bedrooms for reading or writing letters.”
“Then be rude,” Violet ordered.
Clara winced. “For Algie, anything.”
Violet didn’t tell her the same, but yes, for Jack—anything. Including demanding a nice girl to be terribly rude to her near-brother’s intended. Speaking of, Violet thought, glancing Clara over. “It’s time for you to be a bit crueler to your Barty.”
“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”
“Your father has made it clear that he won’t finance Barty. If Papa Roche knew you were financing him, would he cut off your allowance?”
Clara flushed again, avoiding answering to avoid lying. Violet sighed. “Algie’s inheritance is secure enough these days now that his father has paid off his debts, but Algie won’t ever say no to your Barty as long as you want Algie to rescue him. Every time you do, you take money from little Maria and the children to come. They’ll have to work and won’t be able to follow their dreams while you support Barty in his needs.”
Clara sniffed, biting her thumbnail again, and then she screwed up her face. “Robbie won’t help Barty anymore, either. He never does pay you back even when he promises so faithfully.”
“Just think of your children,” Violet advised. “I know you love them already.”
Clara’s gaze met Violet’s. “They become more concrete, don’t they? When you’ve met their father and can anticipate their arrival. It’s like I can see their ghosts, feel them haunting me, letting me know they’re coming. Is that utterly mad?”
Clara’s self-deprecating laugh didn’t strike Violet as all that funny. Her own future children were haunting Violet too, making her think of how things would affect them if their father was a suspect of murder. Vi wasn’t just fighting for her and Jack. The more she realized she might lose those souls—maybe they were dreams, but they felt real. They felt like she was missing beings who she hadn’t quite met yet, and she was losing them if she lost their father.
Never, Violet thought. She glanced thro
ugh the room one more time, standing in front of the door and taking the whole room in. The bed had been turned, and nothing. The drawers had been emptied and strewn. They’d run their hands under every drawer and pulled each out to ensure there was nothing hidden in any way.
Bed, vanity, small table, chairs. A very large wardrobe, so huge Violet didn’t think Gertrude could have possibly moved it, but Violet and Clara had done their best to ensure that nothing was hidden behind it all the same.
Violet sighed and turned away and then paused. She turned back, crossing the room to stare at the wardrobe.
“I looked it over twice, Violet,” Clara said from near the door. “We really should leave before someone comes back and sees what we’ve done.”
“Mr. Yardley will know the instant it’s reported.”
“But he’ll never tell,” Clara said. “Someone else might. Father will say that you and Algie have been a bad influence on me. He’s looking for reasons to wear me down and make me throw Algie over.”
Violet wasn’t really listening. She cast Clara a look that ordered her to stand up for herself while she opened the vanity and noted the flat ceiling of the piece. She backed up, looking up at the wardrobe that was taller that Vi. It was an etched and carved antique with shining wood that showed tender care. The carvings came to a peak of curls and whirls made with shining cherry wood.
“Vi!” Clara hissed. “Please! I’ll never hear the end of it if we are caught.”
Violet ignored Clara, crossed to the vanity, picked up the stool, and set it in front of the wardrobe. She stood up carefully and ran her hand along the top until she felt the leather edges of some sort of bag.
Violet pushed up on her toes and felt around until she found the handle and then took down a beautiful, locked hatbox. Vi didn’t wait, she just walked towards the door, opened it, and ordered, “Hurry up now.”
Jack’s auto had been taken by the valet, and Violet couldn’t be seen with her contraband. She hurried to the elevator, rang the bell, and then stepped back so the attendant couldn’t see her. Before the doors opened, Violet hissed to Clara, “See if it’s Cooper.”
“Who?” Clara asked dumbly.
“Cooper!” Violet hissed, tucking her stolen items inside a cabinet that was topped with a vase.
The bell rang and the doors opened. “Hello, Miss. What floor please.”
Clara stuttered for a moment and then she asked, “Cooper?”
“Yes, miss.”
Vi tucked her face around the side of the elevator and grinned brightly at him. “Cooper, my hero. There’s fifty quid in it for you if you get the contents of that cabinet for me to the alleyway outside.”
His gaze widened.
“Fifty more if you never speak of it.”
“Never,” Cooper swore. “I—” He cleared his throat, eyes shining for a moment and then said, “I’ll be there. I’d have done it for free.”
“I wouldn’t have trusted you with it if I didn’t already like you,” Violet told him, shaking his hand, to Clara’s open-mouthed shock.
“Get inside,” Violet hissed. “Someone will see you.”
Clara hopped onto the elevator, and Violet told Cooper conversationally, “You picked us up in the lobby after we came in from a ramble.”
“I sure did, ma’am.”
“We looked a bit windblown. Red-cheeked even, as though we’d been walking briskly.”
“It’s a cool day. A speedy step keeps you warm in the wet London air.”
“Indeed,” Violet told him, handing him her card. “There’s work for you if you ever want it. If all goes well when you come by, I’ll be on my honeymoon, but my brother will put you to work until I get back. Victor Carlyle. He’ll have heard of you.”
Cooper’s gaze focused on the card, and he nodded. “You’ll be seeing me.”
Chapter Fifteen
Violet collected Jack in the hall outside the suite as he and Algie had already left Roche’s rooms. She grinned at Jack, winking happily, and he immediately knew she had done something naughty. He shot her an inquiring look, but Violet wasn’t going to answer while they had an audience.
“I’ll be by to see Denny soon,” Algie promised as Clara put her hand on the crook of his elbow.
“Wonderful,” Violet told him brightly. When they returned to the elevator, it was unattended. Violet grinned as Jack selected the floor.
“Odd,” he said.
Vi just smirked.
“Hmm,” he replied. “You did like him from the moment he chose his brother. That story could have been a lie.”
“It wasn’t.”
“You know that by woman’s intuition?”
“Certainly.” Violet took advantage of the empty elevator to press up on her toes and kiss Jack on the bottom of his jaw. He was too tall for her to reach much higher, but his fingers dug into her back, and she knew he was no more unaffected than she.
“Do you ever think about the children we’ll have some day?”
He paused, looking down at her in surprise, but he didn’t hide the truth from her. “I’m looking forward to them, when you’re ready.”
“They’re heavy on my mind,” Violet told him.
He rubbed his chin over the top of her head and then pressed a kiss on her forehead. It took a long moment for him to say, “If you want to end things to protect them, Vi, I understand.”
She smiled into his chest. It was a sad smile. “I never really thought about children too seriously before you. Don’t you see? They won’t exist without you, Jack.”
“But you could have children without me, Vi.”
“Those aren’t the children haunting me. Those aren’t the ones I’m missing.”
“Missing? As though they were on a long journey?”
Vi nodded. She didn’t care if it seemed silly. Jack could handle her silliness and everything else she was.
“I—” He didn’t say anything else, and she didn’t mind. It felt almost as though he were trying on the idea of those children for size. Maybe he was, maybe he wasn’t, but she’d tried on the idea of them for size and found that there was an empty place in her heart that was already being filled by them.
“I adore you, Violet Carlyle,” he said. “The day you’re Violet Wakefield will forever be my favorite moment.”
The elevator door opened and Violet stepped out of his arms, ignoring the shocked look on the faces of the elderly couple waiting to get on.
“Cheeky,” the woman hissed.
Vi winked in reply.
“What did you find out?” Violet asked as she tucked her hand into Jack’s and followed him to the valet, who went running for Jack’s auto. Mr. Yardley saw Vi and nodded once before he said, “I believe your friend has already made her way to your auto.”
“One of your staff helped me out with a little matter,” Violet told him. “Cooper’s a good man.”
Yardley nodded while Jack gave Violet a sharp glance. She walked with him to the area where the auto would be brought and glanced to the right. Cooper was waiting with a box in his hands.
Vi nodded once and when Jack’s auto was brought to the hotel, Violet stepped back as Jack opened the door. She nodded at Cooper, who walked casually over, opened the back door and placed the box inside the auto.
“Ma’am,” he said.
Violet handed him a note for her man of business along with the usual tip. He grinned at her. “Your offer couldn’t have come at a better time, ma’am. I’d like to be noble and tell you to keep it, but—”
“Vi?” Jack asked, but Violet just waved him off.
“I’ll be offended if you don’t take me up on for what you did,” she said to Cooper. “I know the risk you took, and I won’t have it be unrewarded—not even for your very respectable honor.”
Cooper searched her face before nodding at Jack. The elevator attendant said, “You’re a lucky man, sir.” Then he shut the door to the auto before either of them could reply.
“He’s not wron
g,” Violet told Jack.
“I’m aware,” Jack said.
He focused on entering the busy traffic while Violet leaned back, exhausted. The dynamics of the Roche family were almost as melodramatic as the dynamics of her own family.
“We should set some private detectives on the Roche crew.”
“With special emphasis on Barty and Gertrude,” Violet agreed. “Those two are—well…” She shrugged as she glanced at Jack, wickedly grinning. “I like them better than Father Roche but not by very much.”
“Agreed. Leaving me alone with him and Algie made me actually sympathetic for poor Algie. A lifetime of that—”
“Won’t happen,” Violet interrupted. “Clara has decided Roche is going back to the United States and she’s staying here with Algie. She won’t subject her love to her father.”
Jack choked on a surprised laugh. “I’ll never cease being surprised by you wonderful creatures.”
She changed the subject to the traffic and then the weather, and then they were back to Victor’s house. Violet hesitated when she saw the uniformed policeman outside of the house.
“Never fear, Vi.” Jack opened the door for her as one of the servants ran down to drive the auto to the garage. Violet glanced at servant and then whispered to him, “Smuggle the contents of that box into the house, please.”
“There’s one in the kitchens, my lady,” he said, directing his gaze to the local policeman.
“Is there now,” Violet sighed. She glanced at Jack, who said, “Drive to the salon Violet likes. You know the one?”
The servant nodded.
“There are some items on hold there for her. Have those boxed up with the contents of Violet’s box. Tell the girls to make sure the most embarrassing pieces are on the top and to add more if they need to. Whatever it takes to thoroughly hide what Violet has.”
The servant nodded while Jack held out his hand for Violet. They walked up the steps as though they weren’t being watched by the constabulary, as the servant drove the auto around the side of the house, no doubt meaning to use the delivery drive to escape on his errand.
