A Jazzy Little Murder Read online

  A Jazzy Little Murder

  A Violet Carlyle Mystery

  Beth Byers

  Contents

  Summary

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Also By Beth Byers

  Death by the Book Preview

  Death By the Book Preview

  Summary

  JUNE 1925.

  Violet and Jack have returned home from their honeymoon and are back to their old lives. Jack is taking cases again. Violet is writing books with her twin, managing her business interests, and decorating her house.

  When their crew of friends gather for a night on the town, they intend to enjoy cocktails, jazz, and maybe a very late dinner. What they don’t expect is one of the band to fall dead while they dance. The celebration comes to a stumbling halt, and the group turns their attention—once again—to murder and why someone would kill a member of the band.

  Chapter One

  “We can’t leave without visiting Dragonera,” Violet said, her cheek pressed against Jack’s chest.

  They were lying in bed with the doors to the balcony open. With the wind coming in off of the sea and the call of the gulls, it was a near perfect moment. Should she have cared to sit up, she’d have been able to look out and see the crystal blue waters of Formentera Island. Instead, however, she was curled up on her new husband’s chest.

  “It’s just an empty island, love,” Jack said, his fingers tracing along her spine. “Before we leave Spain, there are a lot more exciting places to visit.”

  “It’s called Dragonera, and we’re here. We must. The name alone begs a visit. I might even need to write a little pulp novel about dragons who live there. Surely if anywhere has dragons, it’s there?”

  “With a princess and the knight who saves her?”

  Violet laughed and shook her head. “About the princess who saves herself, you silly creature. She’ll make friends with the dragon and fly around the world.”

  “Ah, of course.” Jack laughed, winding their fingers together. Violet turned onto her stomach, placing her chin on his chest to stare up at him.

  He was quite a bit larger than her, a mountain of a man really with broad shoulders, a thick chest, and quite strong arms. His gaze was dark and nearly all-seeing above those rugged features she loved so much.

  She wasn’t a small woman, though she was also not large. Of a middling size with fine, sharp features, dark hair and eyes, and a willowy frame well-suited to the style of the day. Against Jack’s chest, however, she felt a little bit like a fairy creature. She smiled a wicked grin that warned him she was about to tease.

  He beat her to it. “You’re ready to go home, I think.”

  Violet pressed a kiss to his chest before she shot back, “You spent the afternoon drinking coffee with that policía.”

  Jack’s expression was a little self-deprecating, but he only shrugged in reply.

  “I might miss my twin,” Violet admitted as she laid her cheek back down on his chest. “And writing.”

  “And Denny, Lila, Isolde, Rita, shopping with your friends, teasing your brother, and generally causing mayhem and disorder.”

  Violet gasped, lifting her face up again with a fierce reply. “Ham, cigars with Victor in the garden, working, Indian food in the afternoon, just general Englishman-ness. Spain is too hot and too ah—emotional.”

  “Now we’re making up words?” Jack demanded, but she could see the twitch in his lips and knew that he was no more upset than she.

  She laid her face back down, admitting to herself that she was ready to go home. “Maybe we should visit Dragonera, visit Madrid—”

  “You’ve a list of Spanish alcohol to buy, haven’t you?”

  Violet tried an innocent hmmm, but he tickled her until she confessed. “Yes, yes. I have a whole list of things that Victor requested, along with a few others. We must buy it all for him and for us.”

  “Anís is—”

  “A must for Victor,” Violet smirked. “You have never been so sick as you were after an evening of that one.”

  Jack sat up, pulling her along with him, as she laughed at his remembered pain. He admitted, “It packs a bit of a punch.”

  “It knocked you off your feet and through the whole of the next day,” Violet reminded him. She jumped out of bed and ran for the bath. If they were leaving the warm, beautiful waters of Spain, she needed to overindulge in swimming so it would be a little less painful to leave the crystal seas behind.

  She put on her knit swimming costume and then a cover-up. When she left the bath, Jack had already changed into his own swimwear, and they hurried down to the beach, diving into the sea.

  Later that day, Vi’s wish of learning to tango showed what a brilliant mind she possessed, she thought, as Jack bent her down over his arm. She grinned up at him and wrapped her leg around his. There was just something about Spanish music. Especially at the end of the day, with candles burning along the edge of a dance floor that opened onto the beach.

  She’d spent nearly every morning swimming, and nearly every evening dancing. The night air filtered in and as the dance ended, Vi pulled Jack onto the beach with her.

  “Are you sure you’re ready?” Jack asked, dropping a kiss on her forehead. She dumped her shoes on the sand and hurried to place her toes in the water.

  “No,” she admitted. “Dance the tango with me in England?”

  “Always,” Jack promised as he rolled up the cuffs of his evening pants and followed her into the water. “We should really have warm beaches in England and all would be well with the world.”

  “Stiffen your upper lip, good sir.” Vi laughed as she twirled in the water, splashing him with her toes. “Englishmen don’t quibble at freezing water.”

  The light of challenge appeared in Jack’s gaze, and Vi shook her head frantically. She turned to run, but he caught her about the waist and lifted her, legs kicking. He turned her as though she were a doll and held her protesting over the water.

  “Are you sure you want to play this game?”

  Violet tried a pout but it didn’t work.

  “Come now, my love,” she said, trying and failing to get away. “Falling into the ocean on our final night before Madrid is no way to end things.” She fluttered her lashes, but he scowled.

  With a laugh, she wrapped her legs around his waist and told him, “You’ll have to peel me off or go down into the water with me.”

  The expression on his face at her dare was all the warning she got before he dropped back into the water, dousing them both.

  A week later as their steamship approached London, the dark skies threatened them with a downpour that would pause anyone but a Londoner. Violet was wearing Wellingtons, a raincoat, and a smile.

  “I can’t wait,” Violet said, breathing deeply. “There’s something perfect about the smell of rain.”

  Jack settled his chin on the top of Violet’s head and mmmed. They watched the dock near as the ship came in, knowing they’d leave their luggage to the servants and hurry home. Violet wanted to go straight to Victor’s house, but it was midnight.

  Yes, she thought, she should definitely appear at his door. She grinned at Jack when she heard him give the cab driver Victor’s address. Jack hadn’t even asked. Her knee was bouncing as they made their way through London.

  “Why is it takin
g so long?”

  The cabbie glanced back, but Jack just waved him back to the road. Violet rubbed her lip as she watched the blurry road pass by. It was taking too long, she thought. She had been sad when she was leaving behind the warm waters of Spain, but now…goodness, she wanted to throw herself at her twin and also Kate and also tease him and also hear all the stories of what had happened while they were gone and also tell him all of her stories.

  When they turned onto the street where Victor’s house was, with Vi and Jack’s only a few doors down, she started to scoot towards the door. Jack stopped her.

  “Wait until the auto stops, Vi,” Jack said calmly, and she glanced at him, grinning in the darkness. She couldn’t see his expression, but she didn’t need to see it to know it was long-suffering.

  The auto rolled to a stop and Jack moved out of Vi’s way. She crawled over him and out the door to run up the steps to Victor’s house. While Jack laughed and paid the cabbie, Violet banged the door-knocker until Victor opened the door.

  “Violet, you lost devil you.” He looked her over with matching dark eyes and grinned at her with a matching elfin grin before sweeping her up into his arms. They had a near-silent conversation, eyeing the other for the tell-tale signs of either happiness or stress.

  Victor stepped back inside with her in his arms, kicking the door shut behind him, and twirled her in a circle as he demanded, “Where have you been all my life?”

  Violet rolled her eyes and grabbed his cheeks, pinching them. Jack let himself into the house as Violet said, “All your life? Mostly right next to you, brother mine. Where is Kate?”

  “She’s sleeping. She fell asleep in the parlor waiting for you to appear and didn’t wake when I carried her up the stairs. Violet Junior, minx that she is, has been kicking in the middle of the night and waking poor Kate.”

  “Put her down,” Jack ordered Victor, “and make me a cocktail.”

  “Something hot!” Violet added, grinning at poor Hargreaves who appeared in the great hall. “Hargreaves, my friend, how nice to see you. I’m sorry we’ve arrived so late.”

  “It’s good to see you’ve returned, my lady,” Hargreaves replied, shaking off her apology. “I’ll bring hot coffee and tea.”

  Vi followed Victor into the parlor, wishing she could run up the stairs to her bedroom and change her clothes, but her clothes were two houses down. Somehow coming home had felt like coming here, but she didn’t think it was the house or the location of her things. It was simply the location of her twin.

  “I have missed you,” Violet told him. “The islands were, however, amazing. You should go. We should go back! I’m already ready to go back. I feel the need to go swimming again.”

  Victor laughed and handed a coffee mixed with something chocolatey to Violet and another to Jack. Then Victor dropped onto the Chesterfield next to Violet. “Did you learn to tango?”

  “Yes! You should do it when Kate can move freely again.”

  Victor smirked, glancing over his shoulder at Jack. “What about a swimming pool for your house, Jack. What do you think?”

  “I think!” Violet declared. “I think very much. Can we make this swimming pool somehow an island as well? With sand. A beach? A distant band playing music to dance to in the waves?”

  “I suppose we could,” Jack said. “Without the distant band and such. A swimming pool would certainly be possible.”

  “Yes,” Victor declared. “You do it.”

  “Maybe at the country house. We do need to go and update it, Vi,” Jack said after a yawn. “You haven’t even been yet, Vi. It reeks of my mother and grandmother. Father just handed it over, you know? I think you were dancing with Victor when Father handed me the keys officially. We should update things. Maybe take a weekend trip and send the fellow down who did the house here.”

  Violet lifted her brow and then leaned back. “You know, we should start with a swimming pool there and then consider one for the London house. There’s more room for a swimming pool, right? I can’t believe we’ve somehow missed spending time near the country house.”

  Jack leaned back with a yawn. “Whatever you want, Vi.”

  “You’ve trained him already!” Victor snorted. “I expected even Violet to struggle for at least half a year.”

  Chapter Two

  “I found a dance club with tangos,” Jack told Violet three days later. She was lying in bed with her dog, Rouge, sprawled on her chest. Rouge was gazing into Violet’s gaze, licking Vi’s chin and then whining under her breath. The little dog snuggled closer, and laid her face between Vi’s cheek and shoulder.

  “I think Rouge is sad,” Violet told Jack, tilting her head backwards to look at him from the bed. “I think she misses Victor’s Gin.”

  “Are you trying to say you want another puppy?”

  “Maybe.” Violet grinned at Jack, still upside down. “Is that a yes?”

  Jack snorted and leaned down to drop a kiss on Violet’s forehead. “It is, indeed, a yes. Ham telephoned.”

  Violet’s mouth twisted, knowing Jack would be taking a case and their holiday would end.

  “I’m not going to leave London quite yet, Vi. They only need a little local help. I verified that already.”

  “It’s not like I don’t have books to write and friends to have lunch with.” She winked at him from upside-down still, and he shook his head at her. She could, however, see the twitch at the corner of his mouth that said he found her both ridiculous and charming. She considered that the perfect combination to Jack’s usual staidness.

  “Save some of those lunches for me.” He pressed another kiss on her upside-down face, and she could feel his smile when she started to giggle. Rouge mmphed, and Violet felt the dog shift to frantically kiss Jack’s cheek as he straightened. With a final goodbye, he left their bedroom.

  Before rising from the bed, Violet turned Rouge onto her back and rubbed her belly until the dog’s whining stopped. She moseyed to the tub and drew herself a bath, adding oils and salts, and then settled into the water. She was, she supposed, delaying doing the things she usually did. She’d only seen Kate and Victor since their return, but there was a family dinner that evening at Vi’s own house.

  The family dinner was actually only going to include Ham—Jack’s best friend—as well as Violet’s friends, Rita, Lila, and Denny, and, of course, Violet’s twin, with his wife, Kate. Jack’s father had been invited, but he declined in favor of a fortnight at a hunting lodge with some of his cronies, while Violet’s own father and stepmother hadn’t been invited at all. Vi winced a little at the idea of leaving her father out, but she wasn’t ready for her stepmother.

  She dunked herself under the water and worked soap into her hair as she debated whether or not she wanted to feel guilty. She decided against feeling guilty and allowed herself the freedom of not wanting to deal with her stepmother.

  Violet hadn’t hired a new maid now that her previous maid, Beatrice, had become Violet’s assistant and secretary, and she was still debating whether she wanted to hire another as she dressed. She chose a comfortable, lightweight day dress and then made her way from her shared bedroom with Jack to the office boudoir.

  Her typewriter was covered and there was a stack of paper standing next to it. She stared at it for a while, then threw herself onto the chaise lounge and picked up the newest Edgar Rice Burroughs novel. Violet snuggled down and read until she lost all track of time and Jack knocked on the door of her office.

  “Got a lot of work done today?”

  Violet blinked stupidly at him, trying to snap back into the world she knew and out of her book. “None,” she answered finally. He grinned at her unapologetic reply and she asked, “You?”

  “Ham and I had lunch.”

  “And cigars.”

  He nodded, the corners of his lips twitching.

  “Did you even talk about the case? Or you did, but it doesn’t feel like working because you love it?”

  “That last version.” This time
he actually smiled. Rouge, lying at Violet’s feet, had her tail flapping frantically, but she was too comfortable to greet him with anything more.

  Violet laughed at him. Together they dressed for dinner. When she arrived in her parlor, she circled it. The last of the furniture had arrived while they were gone, and she wasn’t quite used to the space. She was still taking it in when their guests arrived.

  “How many chalkboards did you buy?” Denny asked as he joined her. He kissed Vi on the cheek. “Missed you, love. Lila was woebegone.”

  Lila rolled her eyes. “Denny moped. Victor isn’t nearly as entertaining as you are, love. My poor lad made me read him detective novels.”

  Denny nodded as Victor started mixing cocktails. “I want one of those chocolate ones.” Denny grinned at Violet with a bit of a smirk, and she prepared herself for a joke. “I,” he said, raising his voice to something of an announcer level, “am Watson. You are Holmes. Jack is Lestrade.”

  “Objection,” Victor inserted. “I think Lila and I are Watson—in combination—and me more than Lila. Sorry, love.”

  “Forgiven,” Lila said dryly, accepting her cocktail from Victor. “I prefer to be whoever is lounging in the back with the cocktail, watching the show unfold.”

  Victor winked at Lila. “Vi can be Holmes, but Jack is clearly Irene Adler. You, Denny, are Mrs. Hudson.”

  Violet took her chocolate cocktail with a sigh. “I think Holmes is a bit much. Jack is the famous detective, not I.”

  “As do I,” Jack replied evenly. “Of the two of us, Violet is far more likely to commit a crime. I believe she is Adler and I am Holmes.”