Mulled Murder (Pennyfoot Holiday Mysteries) (15 page)

“Be careful, Cecily. You don’t exactly have a good track record when it comes to chasing villains.”

She felt offended by that. “I’ve brought many of them to justice, when the efforts of the constabulary have failed.”

“Ah, but at great risk to your personal safety. There have been times when we have all feared for your life.”

“Well, all life is a risk, dear Kevin, is it not? Otherwise, what is the point? I’m not one to sit embroidering samplers all my life.”

He uttered a shout of laughter. “Your escapades are a far cry from any normal activities of a well-bred woman, yet somehow you manage to imbue gentility and decorum. You are one of a kind, my dear Cecily, and your Baxter is a lucky man.” He reached for her hand and drew it to his lips. “I shall leave you to your precarious pursuits, but I do beg you to take care. The world would be a miserable place without you.”

She had almost forgotten how utterly charming he could be, and how much she adored his compliments. “I have every intention of staying in it just as long as the good Lord allows me to, but I thank you for your concern, and your friendship. It means a lot to me.”

His blue eyes crinkled at the corners. “Always, Cecily. I will see you tomorrow night. Madeline and I are looking forward to the pantomime. At least, Madeline is. She takes a perverse pleasure in watching Phoebe make a fool of herself, I’m afraid.”

“She doesn’t mean it. She would be heartbroken if Phoebe were actually hurt by her calamities. To tell the truth, I do believe Phoebe enjoys the attention, whether it’s for a successful presentation, or for a catastrophe onstage. Either way, people applaud her for the enjoyment, and she thrives on it.”

“So everyone is happy, no matter what happens.”

“Precisely.” She smiled. “Good night, Kevin, and thank you.”

He paused at the door, looking back at her over his shoulder. “For what?”

“For not telling on me.”

He grinned at her. “Anytime. Good night, Cecily.”

She stared at the door long after it had closed. Had it not been for Baxter, she might have ended up married to Kevin Prestwick. She tried to imagine what life would have been like as the doctor’s wife.

After a while she returned to the fire and held out her hands to the flames. No matter what life would have been like as Mrs. Kevin Prestwick, it could not possibly have been nearly as interesting, exciting, and exhilarating as being Mrs. Hugh Baxter, manager of the Pennyfoot Hot . . . Country Club.

Smiling, she headed for the door. She needed to see her husband. And right now. Tonight was her favorite event of the Christmas season—the carol-singing ceremony. Nothing lifted her spirits more than standing in a crowded library, surrounded by people enjoying themselves, and the beautiful music of the Christmas carols filling the air all around her.

For one evening she intended to forget her troubles and enjoy the occasion with her beloved husband by her side. Gerald Evans’s investigation and his killer could wait.

• • •

Gertie and the rest of the maids had assembled in the library before the guests arrived for the carol-singing ceremony. In one corner the string quartet sat tuning up, creating a discord of sound that jarred Gertie’s ears.

It always amazed her that musicians could sound so bloody awful before the performance and then once they began to play the music was so beautiful it made her want to cry.

Not that she cried much anymore. Tonight, though, she felt strange, like she didn’t know whether she wanted to laugh or cry. Usually at Christmastime she’d get a kind of fluttery feeling in her stomach, but this was different. This was more like being afraid and excited all at the same time and she had no idea why she should feel this way.

One thing she did know—she was looking forward to seeing Clive again. They had seen so little of each other since he’d opened the toy shop. She missed seeing his burly figure striding down the hallway toward her, that big grin lighting up his craggy face.

Across from where she stood, the carol singers were lining up in uneven rows. The women wore red ribbons in their hair and the men sported red bow ties. Gertie loved singing carols. She smiled, remembering when Clive had come to her room one Christmas and they’d sung carols with the twins.

He was a good man, and she was lucky to know him.

The door opened just then, and the guests started wandering in. The women wore elegant tea gowns in soft pastel colors that complimented the dark dress coats of the men. Gertie saw Madam talking to the carolers. She stood out from the rest in a dark blue velvet gown and white lace stole.

Mr. Baxter stood behind her, waiting for her to finish her conversation. They made a handsome pair.

Gertie felt a pang of envy that took her by surprise. She hurried over to the sideboard in an effort to escape her peculiar feelings. She had to be coming down with something, she thought, as she seized a platter of vol-au-vents and started offering them to the guests.

For the next hour or so she divided the time between handing out refreshments and watching the door. The carol singers were halfway through their performance, and still there was no sign of Clive. Even the glorious sound of so many lovely voices raised in harmony failed to soothe her nerves.

She was so anxious her stomach felt like it was tied up in knots, and although the food looked and smelled delicious, she had no desire to sample any of it. Not that they were allowed to taste anything until the ceremony was over and all the guests had departed. Still, usually she was starving by then and couldn’t wait to get a sausage roll or treacle tart in her mouth.

Walking back to the sideboard with an empty platter, she tried her best to concentrate on the next carol. It was one of her favorites—“Silent Night.” As the beautiful chords echoed throughout the room, she felt a lump in her throat.

Impatient with herself, she turned sharply, and found herself face-to-face with the cause of her chaotic thoughts.

“Happy Christmas, Gertie.”

Looking up into Clive’s eyes, so full of tenderness, Gertie gulped. “Happy Christmas, yourself.”

Clive looked around the room. “How long do you have to stay?”

“I don’t really have to be here.” She glanced over her shoulder at the carol singers. “I offered to help out the maids because we’re shorthanded.”

“Can you slip away for a few minutes? There’s something I need to talk to you about.”

“All right.” Now she was worried. He looked serious. Was something wrong at the toy store? Was he going to tell her he was giving up on it? Surely not! There’d been plenty of customers there yesterday afternoon.

With questions racing through her mind, she followed him out into the hallway. A couple of guests strolled toward them, and Clive quickly led her the other way toward the ballroom. Pushing open the doors, he stepped back to let her go ahead of him.

It was dark in there without the gas lamps lit. She stood hesitating as Clive stepped inside, leaving the doors open so that a faint light from the hallway spilled across the threshold.

“This isn’t what I’d planned,” he said, his voice sounding deeper than she’d ever heard it before.

He’d changed his mind. He was going to break up with her. That could be the only explanation for the strange sound in his voice. She tried to make light of things, though her heart was hammering out her dread. “What did you have planned, then? A picnic on the beach?”

He laughed, though it sounded strained. “No, though that might have been a good idea.”

She couldn’t see his face properly because he had his back to the light, but she could tell when the smile left and the serious look returned.
Here it comes
, she thought, and prayed she wouldn’t make a fool of herself by crying in front of him.

“Gertie.”

He took her hand, and she felt the strength of his warm fingers wrapped around hers. How was she going to survive the next few weeks with the pain of losing him? How could she carry on without him? Bloody hell, she was going to cry after all.

“I think you know how I feel about you. I’ve had to tread carefully, knowing that you weren’t ready to make this decision, but the time has come when I can wait no longer.”

To her utter astonishment, he sank to one knee. “I love you, Gertie Brown McBride. I’ve been waiting to ask you until I was sure I had the means to support you and the twins in the way you all deserve. My shop is doing well, and I feel confident I have a secure future, so I’m asking for your hand in marriage. You and the twins. If you’ll have me.”

The unfamiliar tears streamed down her face. She saw the ring sparkling in its little box in his hand and convinced herself she wasn’t dreaming. As always, she couldn’t resist the cheeky remark. “What took you so bleeding long? Of course I’ll marry you!”

She threw her arms around his neck, toppling him over and falling with him to the floor.

Laughing, he took hold of her hand again. “Let’s get this ring on your finger before you change your mind.”

Happily she straightened her fingers so he could slide the lovely ring on. “I ain’t never going to change my mind, so you’re stuck with me now. Me and the twins.” She caught her breath. “They are going to be so bloody happy.”

“Do you want to go and tell them now?”

“No.” She gently stroked his face. “I want to keep this to ourselves for a bit, so I can enjoy it without having to talk about it to anyone. We’ll tell the twins on Christmas morning. It will make a lovely Christmas surprise for them.”

“As you wish.” He leaned forward. “Can I kiss the bride?”

“You don’t have to flipping ask, silly.” She closed her eyes. This was the happiest she’d ever felt, and she knew, without a single doubt, that she’d remember the feeling for the rest of her life.

CHAPTER
15

“My ankle’s better,” Lilly declared, sitting up in bed the next morning. “I’m going back to work. I’m sick of being stuck in this room. Especially with her.” She nodded at Alice’s empty cot. “I’ll be glad when she’s gone. She keeps me awake at night with all that talking in her sleep.”

Pansy swiveled around on her chair, her hairbrush poised over her head. “Alice talks in her sleep?”

Lilly rolled her eyes. “Don’t tell me you don’t hear her. She goes on and on about somebody called Gwen, and going to Paris.”

“Paris?” Pansy burst out laughing. “She must be dreaming.”

“Yeah, and they’re not pleasant dreams, either. She was going on last night about being caught up in something. She sounded really scared.”

Pansy sobered at once. “Oh, poor thing. I know what it’s like to have nightmares. I get them meself sometimes. Usually when I’ve eaten some of Michel’s pickled onions.” She stared at the bed. “Where is Alice, anyway? I didn’t hear her get up.”

“She’s probably in the lav.” Lilly slid off the bed and reached for her dressing gown. “I’ve got to go myself, so I’ll see if she’s all right. After the night she’s had, she’s probably being sick in there.”

“Well, let me know if you need help cleaning it up.” Pansy shuddered, and turned back to the dressing table mirror. She heard the door close as Lilly left, but was too busy staring at her hair to pay much attention.

Mrs. Chubb had promised to style it for the wedding. Pansy scowled at her image. It looked a mess this morning. Her hair needed washing, but she wanted to wait until the morning of the wedding. If she washed it too often it dried out and looked too wispy.

Tucking a strand behind her ear, she decided she needed more hairpins. She opened her box of accessories and hunted through the barrettes, ribbons, and decorative combs. Everything but hairpins.

Sighing, she closed the box. She was always running out of the flipping things. Her hair was baby fine and silky, and the pins fell out almost as soon as she shoved them in. She looked back in the mirror. If she didn’t anchor that strand of hair behind her ear, it was going to fall in the porridge she had to serve very shortly in the dining room.

She leaned back in her chair and prepared to wait for Lilly to come back. Lilly always had plenty of pins.

After a while she became restless. She was already late, and by now Mrs. Chubb was probably getting ready to tell her off the moment she showed her face. After another minute or two, she reached for Lilly’s drawer in the dresser. Lilly wouldn’t mind, she told herself. They shared lots of things, and it was only hairpins. She’d pay her back the next time she went into town to shop for them.

She pulled open Lilly’s drawer. Rows of underwear lay neatly folded side by side. Pansy pulled a face. Her own underwear was always in a tangled pile in her drawer. What was the use of taking all that time to fold it, and stack it neatly, when she’d be pulling it out to wear it again?

Feeling somewhat guilty about probing among something as personal as someone’s underwear, she slid her hand beneath the garments to feel for the box of pins she knew Lilly kept in that drawer.

Her fingers collided with something cold and sharp. Drawing her hand back with a gasp, she saw a tiny trickle of blood on her thumb. She stuck it in her mouth and with the other hand, pulled the pile of petticoats aside to see what had nicked her. Staring at the object, she let out a whimper of shock and dismay. Then she quickly drew the petticoats back in place and closed the drawer.

Hairpins were no longer on her mind. Ignoring the strand of hair that swung across her face, she charged out of the room and down the hallway to the kitchen stairs.

• • •

Cecily was in her office, sorting through the bills, when Kevin knocked on the door and poked his face around it.

She greeted him with a smile. “Kevin! I wasn’t expecting to see you until tonight. What brings you back so soon?”

“I was just passing by.” Kevin strolled over to the window and looked out. “You have such a nice view of the bowling greens from here.”

“I do. It can be a little distracting in the summertime.”

“I can imagine.” He turned to look at her. “Walter Pinstone is in Badgers End. He wants to take his brother’s body back to London. I had to tell him that the case is unsolved and I can’t release the body to him until after the constables have completed their investigation.”

Cecily stared at him in dismay. “Goodness. That could be days.”

“Unless I can get them to release the body earlier.” He walked over to the desk. “I have to admit, I feel most uneasy about this whole situation. I can’t help feeling that we should contact Scotland Yard before the trail goes cold, or before the killer strikes again.”

Cecily felt a jolt of apprehension under her ribs. “I sincerely hope we won’t have another stabbing. I think as long as we leave the gang of thieves alone, they won’t disturb us again.”

“They could disappear before the police get involved.”

“I intend to have a talk with someone today who might be able to help us. I’m hoping to get some answers that will help clear this matter up entirely.”

“I hope you’re right.” He smoothed his hair back at his forehead. “I have the utmost admiration for everything you have accomplished in the past, Cecily. You know that. But this time I can’t help feeling that you are treading on very thin ice. If you’re right, and there are stolen goods down there and those thieves get away, when Scotland Yard finds out that you knew what was going on right under your nose and could have had them apprehended, you could be in serious trouble with the law.”

He wasn’t telling her anything she didn’t already know. It was a chance she had to take, until she knew for certain that her suspicions were justified. “And if I’m wrong, and the police investigation disrupts Pansy’s wedding and Christmas for everyone all for nothing, I will never forgive myself. I’m sorry, Kevin, but I must ask you to remain silent until we know for certain what is going on and just who is involved.”

His mouth twisted in a wry smile. “You know I can deny you nothing. Just understand that I’m not at all comfortable with the situation.”

“Thank you, Kevin.” She sought to change the subject. “Will you be bringing Angelina to the pantomime tonight?”

Kevin visibly shuddered. “I sincerely hope not. That child has the loudest voice I’ve ever heard in one so young. She’s at the questioning stage, and I’m quite certain that she would sit through the entire presentation, demanding answers for everything that is going on onstage.”

Cecily chuckled. “Well, I should be happy to see her. She is growing up so fast.”

“She is indeed.” To Cecily’s relief, Kevin seemed more relaxed after talking about his daughter. “I must leave.” He pulled a pocket watch from his vest pocket and grimaced. “I’m late for surgery. My patients will be anything but patient.”

Cecily shook her head at the feeble joke. “They’ll be happy to see you. Most of them only come to your surgery to hear your expansive compliments.”

Kevin laughed. “You flatter me, Cecily.” He started for the door, then paused, turning back to look at her. “By the way, Walter Pinstone told me that Jacob lost his wife and two children several years ago when their house caught fire. He blamed himself for being away from them at sea so much. Walter said that Jacob was never the same after that.”

Cecily caught her breath. “Oh my. I’m so sorry. No wonder he was so cantankerous all the time. How sad.”

“Yes. I thought you’d want to know.”

“Thank you, Kevin. That explains a lot.” She watched him leave, wishing that she’d known about Jacob’s tragic past. She would have been a lot more tolerant of his attitude. Poor Jacob. He had suffered such a terrible loss, and then to lose his own life that way, how very sad.

She had just picked up her pen when the office door flew open and Pansy rushed in, apparently forgetting to knock first in her haste. She almost lost her balance as she dropped a curtsey, and Cecily didn’t need to see the maid’s tearful face to know that something had badly upset her again.

Cecily’s first thought was that someone else had been murdered. Stricken with guilt for having delayed the investigation, she waited for Pansy to give her the bad news.

Pansy seemed too out of breath to speak. One hand pressed to her throat, she opened and shut her mouth like a fish gasping for water.

Cecily laid down her pen and clasped her hands to prevent them shaking. “What is it, Pansy? What’s happened?”

“I was looking in Lilly’s drawer for hairpins,” Pansy got out at last. “She’s got a
knife
in there.” Her voice had risen to a squeak. “A great big one! It was hidden underneath her petticoats.”

Cecily stared at her, trying to comprehend Pansy’s words. “A knife?”

“Yes, m’m. It cut me. Look!” She held out her hand so that Cecily could see the small dab of blood on her thumb.

Cecily’s relief that there wasn’t another dead body lying around made Pansy’s distress seem almost comical. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she murmured. “You must ask Mrs. Chubb to attend to that.”

Pansy sucked on her thumb, her wide eyes beseeching Cecily to say or do something that would ease her anxiety.

Cecily struggled for a moment to find something to say that wouldn’t set off a major barrage of rumors. “I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation,” she said, hoping her soothing tone would help calm Pansy’s panic.

Pansy, it seemed, was not to be so easily reassured. “What if there isn’t?” She tipped forward, forgetting her place enough to lean her hands on Madam’s desk. “What if Lilly killed Jacob and that other bloke with that knife?”

Cecily blinked. “I’m sure she didn’t. I’ll certainly have a word with her, but—” She broke off as a sharp rapping on the door made them both jump.

The door opened and Lilly stepped into the room.

Pansy uttered a little shriek, but Cecily ignored her, her attention on Lilly’s white face. Was this more bad news, perhaps?

“It’s Alice,” Lilly said, sounding almost as distressed as Pansy. “She’s gone.”

Pansy moaned. “Not another one.”

Cecily felt a cold stab of alarm. “What do you mean,
gone
?”

“She’s left. All her things are gone. Her drawer and her space in the wardrobe . . . it’s all gone.” Lilly waved a hand at the window as if that were where Alice’s things had disappeared.

“Did you kill her, too?” Pansy demanded.

Lilly stepped back, her eyes wide with shock. “What? No, of course I didn’t. I didn’t kill anybody. What in blazes are you talking about?”

“All right.” Cecily got up from her chair. “Both of you, calm down. Pansy, go and tell Mrs. Chubb that Alice has apparently left the premises. You’ll just have to manage without her.”

Pansy stood frozen to the spot, her face a mask of fear.

“Now, Pansy,” Cecily said gently. “You need to get to the dining room to help with breakfast.”

Lilly turned to the door. “I’ll go.”

“No!” Cecily softened her tone again. “I need a word with you first.” She looked back at Pansy. “Please, Pansy. Mrs. Chubb needs your help now, more than ever.”

As if stirred by the words, Pansy nodded and headed for the door, giving Lilly a wide berth as she passed by her.

As the door closed, Cecily sat down again. “I hear you’re hiding a knife in your drawer.”

Lilly scowled. “Pansy told you, didn’t she? So that’s why she thought I’d killed Jacob. What was she doing going through my drawers?”

“She was looking to borrow some hairpins. She didn’t mean to snoop.”

Lilly’s expression changed to concern. “
You
don’t think I killed him, do you? Or the other bloke? I didn’t even know him. I would never kill anyone unless I was fighting for my life.” She drew a cross on her chest with her thumb. “On my mother’s grave, I swear I didn’t kill anyone.”

“It’s all right, Lilly. I believe you.” Cecily leaned forward. “You don’t need to hide a knife here. You’re perfectly safe. No one is going to hurt you while you are under my roof.”

“I bet Jacob thought that, too.”

Cecily winced. “Jacob probably poked his nose into something he shouldn’t have. I promise you, Lilly, I will make sure you’re protected.”