A Masked Murderer: A Violet Carlyle Historical Mystery Read online

  A Masked Murderer

  A Violet Carlyle Historical 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

  Chapter 18

  Sample of Mystery at the Edge of Madness

  Also by Beth Byers

  Summary

  All Hallows 1926

  Violet and Jack have been invited to a masquerade by someone who doesn't name himself and gives no details other than all the guests are coming under the same circumstances.

  They know something is afoot, so they aren't even surprised when there's been a murder. What surprises them is the invitation to all those in attendance to solve the crime.

  Chapter 1

  “Darling Vi,” Jack said as she leaned back into the lounge chair on the deck of the ship. “Aren’t you cold?”

  Perhaps he thought she’d give in to the chill because of the goose flesh that surrounded her bathing costume, but he was wrong. He might be a mountain of a man with enough flesh to keep him warm when she was freezing, but there would be no giving in until she was forced to do so.

  She lifted her hot chocolate and bourbon and announced, “I’ll never give in.”

  “There’s a storm coming,” he told her. It wasn’t like she didn’t know. The yacht they’d borrowed for their time on the Amalfi Coast was rocking and—truth be told—she was feeling the merest, tiniest, most minuscule amount of sea sickness.

  “She’ll never give in,” her twin, Victor repeated. He crossed his long legs and winked from his own lounge chair, clinking mugs with Vi. The two of them met each other’s matching gazes filled with the same stubbornness and mirth and then turned to the others in unison. They were two sides of the same coin. Handsome enough, with dark hair and eyes, sharp features. Both stretched into long, lean forms, though Vi’s was far curvier while Victor’s was taller, wider, and muscled.

  Their eyes were alight with mischief as they glanced at their friends and then put on the same innocent expression, sipping from their mugs of cocoa and bourbon.

  Denny cheered them both from his own chair. He, however, was a traitor, wearing thick corduroy slacks, shirt, and fisherman’s jumper. Vi eyed the jumper with deep envy before she rose and placed her own thick velvet dressing gown on. It had no place on the yacht but would cover her for the trek from the pier to the house that had been left to her by her Aunt Agatha.

  Vi stared towards the lovely villa and then glanced behind her. The blue seas were roiling and in the distance, the clouds were rolling in thick and dark. Vi scowled at them, at Jack who was trying not to smile at her, at Denny who was already crowing.

  For their trip to the sea, Vi and Jack had been joined by Victor and his wife and their twin daughters. Of course, Denny and Lila had declared they were coming along, which had spurred Rita and Ham to pack up shop too. It was only Smith and Beatrice who were the real surprise. Unlike the rest of them, those two worked for their living. It didn’t change anyone’s affection for them, of course, but it had limited them in joining the others in darting off to the continent or wherever their whims took them.

  “I have been having deep and serious thoughts,” Victor said as he rose and placed a robe around himself.

  “Have you?” Vi asked.

  “We’ve but three days left here, though I think we should consider something of a long journey.”

  “To Brazil?” Rita demanded, her eyes shining with interest.

  “That would be delightful,” Victor agreed. “Only, I was reading about the Hawaiian Islands in my travel book last night. Do you know that they are a whole chain of many islands?”

  “I did not know that,” Denny said. His voice slurred a bit, and Vi guessed that the combination of warming bourbon and chocolate was too much for his already weak willpower. “Whatever else did you learn, oh captain, my captain?”

  Vi rolled her eyes at their zozzled friend and glanced at Lila for support. She, however, had her feet up, her eyes closed, and was facing the sun as though soaking in what last rays it had to give. The sun still shone on them, but Vi guessed the storm would sweep in before the hour was out.

  “They don’t have snakes.”

  “Really?” Ham demanded. “None?”

  “None!” Victor replied as though it were a personal victory. “None at all.”

  “What else do you know?” Rita asked easily. She had a bright look in her eyes that had been more and more common in the time since they’d been lingering by the seashore and lazily basking in the sun and sand. The recent loss of her and Ham’s expected baby was fading from constant pain to something more manageable, and as a group—they all breathed easier.

  “They’re still having volcanic eruptions and growing!” Again, Victor sounded as though he had personally arranged this feat. “Can you imagine! You can see the lava.”

  “That’s not much of a selling point for me,” his wife told him with a lifted brow. Her eyes were twitching with amusement and she glanced at Vi to see the same merriment on her face.

  “Hear, hear!” Lila drawled. “I find lava alarming.”

  “Lila, Kate,” Victor countered excitedly. “People live there. They know what to do! They survive.”

  “Tell that to those who lived under Mount Vesuvius,” Kate replied. She lifted her cocoa with both hands and sipped it. Only Victor and Vi had attempted bathing costumes and perhaps they, too, had been a bit zozzled when they had decided that was a good idea. They had, after all, had mimosas with their breakfast. Vi considered her head for a moment and realized she was floating a little. Yes, she was at the sparkly end of zozzled. Carefully, she set her cocoa aside before she traversed from sparkly to weepy.

  “I feel like Kate just won that argument,” Violet told her twin and crossed to Jack, snuggling into his side since her velvet robe wasn’t enough for the wind that was beginning to whip up.

  “Also, pineapple grows on the ground!”

  “What now?” Jack asked. “I always imagined it like a coconut tree.”

  “Jack, Vi,” Victor shook his head, “my darling perfect wife—I really think I need to visit a place with coconuts, pineapple, sun, sea, sand, and most of all—lava.”

  Kate groaned, but everyone else sort of considered.

  “We’d need to know it was safe,” Ham said, his eyes resting on his wife.

  If anything, Ham was more affected by the loss of the baby because he nearly lost Rita. He adored her like the day was long. She had become, Vi thought, the air in his lungs. Intrinsic and necessary to his day-to-day. Vi didn’t disagree. Her eyes moved to her own husband, and she realized that for her, it was the same.

  “I want to go to Hawaii,” Rita announced, “and then I want to tiptoe among those islands and see at least a dozen of them.”

  “A dozen?” Ham asked. “Are there that many?”

  Victor nodded happily and Vi realized that he, too, was on the shiny side of zozzled. She winked at her twin, glanced at Jack and the others and then said, “I vote for Hawaii. But planning this time. I don’t want to go on an iffy ship. I don’t want to stay in an undesirable resort or hotel. I don’t want to see one, single, murderous fellow. No bodies thrown overboard when we sail
, no poison in the pineapple, no intentional drownings in the moonlight. None of it.”

  Victor pretended to write it all down. “Yes, yes of course. We’ll ensure that we find the most luxurious ship and also the most law-abiding set of passengers to travel with.”

  Jack’s snort forced Vi to elbow him lightly in the side. Then she rose and curtsied to the group. “I believe we’re moments from rain, and I left my shoes inside.” She winked and twirled as she raced up to the villa.

  She reached the inside and glanced behind her to see everyone else begin strolling up from the ship too. They had three days left here, and she guessed that they would be spent lingering inside watching the rain come down.

  Maybe, she was wrong. Maybe, they’d be lucky. Maybe, the storm would blow through and bring in a warm front that would let her lay in the sunshine and feel the heat bake her eyelids. Either way, she was happy. Their goal had been accomplished. She sniffed and then grinned at Hargreaves, who had come with them. He had taken to the villa with the aura of a man who had found his true home. She felt as though they’d need to return often.

  Before she could more than comment on the storm to the butler, the others came inside. As they slipped through the doors, the recently quiet Smith said, “Beatrice and I have decided to be married in the morning.”

  He paused for the gasps of joy and then added, “I hope that you’ll join us.”

  “Of course we will,” Vi cried, throwing her arms around Beatrice, who was blushing lightly while the others crowded round her.

  “Wait!” Rita said, alarmed. Her gaze moved among them all and she demanded, “What will you wear?”

  “I was thinking of that pink dress I bought in Paris,” Beatrice said.

  Rita considered. The long straight dress made of layers of pink lace was beautiful and looked particularly lovely on Beatrice. With her brown hair and dark brown eyes contrasting with her peaches and cream skin, it would set things off nicely.

  “With pink lipstick,” Lila agreed. Her head tilted. “Light pink rouge on your cheeks.”

  “My pink pearls,” Kate agreed. “With Vi’s diamond headpiece for your hair. Vi, don’t you have a pink diamond bangle?”

  “Yes! Oh thank heavens, I brought it. I have the pink diamond ear bobs too.” Vi’s head tilted as she fiddled with her own wedding ring and then she said, “She needs a bouquet of pink flowers. She’ll be like a rainbow of pinks.”

  Beatrice’s eyes were wide with their enthusiasm, but her eyes were lit with happiness. “Are you sure? I’ll be happy enough with my dress.”

  “Of course we are,” Rita laughed.

  They dragged her up the stairs to try the ensemble on together and then Lila drawled, “You realize of course, we’re all shocked that you dare to blithely walk where angels would pause to tread.”

  “What do you mean?” Beatrice asked, but her blush said she knew. Smith was their friend. He had saved them time and again, usually employing methods that the rest of them would hesitate to consider.

  “He’s a right criminal,” Lila told Beatrice. “Not that we haven’t all crossed a line or two with all of the things we’ve been through.”

  “Vi broke into houses.”

  “Rita has too!” Vi said.

  “We’ve eavesdropped, lied, and finagled,” Kate said carefully. “It’s just that Smith does it as a matter of course.”

  “It’s not that we don’t like him,” Rita added swiftly. “We do. Love him even.”

  “It’s just that…” Kate paused and then carefully added, “we worry that every line we would find sacred he’d cross. Including some that might break your heart.”

  “I don’t think that,” Violet told the others. “Not to counteract you or be the good friend. But Smith is utterly reliable. He might not have the same boundaries drilled into him the rest of us do, but he has his own honor. There might not be anyone safer in the world for Smith than our Beatrice.”

  “He doesn’t betray those he loves,” Beatrice said firmly. “He has his own definition of honor, like…like thieves.”

  “Better than thieves,” Violet added with a laugh. “I’m not sure how much faith I have in a thief’s code or criminal rules of honor, but I do know this”—Vi paused to gather her thoughts and ensure she used the right words—“Smith could be a kingpin of crime. He could be the top of some enterprise of daring and dishonor if he wanted to be. He’s smart, he’s handsome, he’s charming. He has it all. Only he finds killers, corrects wrongs.”

  Beatrice nodded firmly. “He does.”

  “As long as your heart is sure of him, I’m sure of him,” Kate told Beatrice. “It’s just that we’ve loved you longer.”

  Beatrice’s eyes filled with tears, and Vi was grateful it wasn’t because they’d damaged something by being concerned. It was their love. Love was, Vi thought, making blubbering fools of them all. She met Beatrice’s dark brown eyes in the mirror as they pulled her dress from her closet and held it up to her face. Vi’s eyes were swimming, Beatrice was dabbing her own tears away.

  Kate, of course, was as shiny eyed as Rita. Only Lila was dry-eyed. It wasn’t that she didn’t care, she might have just been a bit too lazy to cry. Vi laughed at the thought and told the others and Lila sniffed.

  “Not too lazy to cry, darling. Too lazy to have to fix my mascara and powder. Such a mess.”

  Beatrice laughed into her handkerchief and muttered a low curse into her hand as she dabbed at her own running cosmetics. “It’s worth it to dab the powder back on for moments like these.”

  Vi winked at Beatrice in the mirror and then dabbed her own loose tear away before too much damage was done. There was much to be done before the morning if it were to go as they wanted and given the storm, they were facing an extra challenge of not being held back by wind and rain…oh. Vi cursed. And lightning.

  Chapter 2

  The little chapel was tiny. There were three rows of pews on either side of the altar. The ceiling, however, had been painted carefully by someone who was brilliant. There were also two tall, narrow stained glass windows. On one window, the form of Jesus Christ after he’d left the tomb and on the other, a kneeling Mary. Despite the limits of the form, the emotion on her face was enough make Vi wonder what such a moment might have been like.

  She was immediately distracted by the priest. He kissed each of Smith’s cheeks and then cupped Beatrice’s face in his hands as though he were marveling at an angel. Vi found she was tearing up, yet again, but in sympathy tears with the old man of God who leaned down and whispered into Beatrice’s ear, still holding her cheeks.

  She nodded again and again and then the priest pressed a kiss onto her forehead. He stepped back and had Beatrice and Smith take each other’s hands and face each other. Vi blubbered through the ceremony nearly missing Smith’s real name. Gabriel Michael Fabbro. Vi squeezed Jack’s hand harder and then leaned into his side. The name didn’t matter at the moment, but Vi had felt Ham start. He was seated on her right with Jack on her other side.

  Vi returned her attention to the wedding and Beatrice’s face as she spoke her vows. Whispered them really. Beatrice had elected to skip powder and mascara on her bottom lashes that morning, so her tears of joy were able to stream down her cheeks without interruption.

  Violet wished she had been equally clever. The wedding was perfect. Perfect for them. The friends and Hargreaves left the chapel and then Ham declared, “We’ve taken a room in a restaurant.”

  “And Vi and I would like to offer you the villa if you’d like to stay longer for a bit of a more private honeymoon.”

  Smith nodded. His gaze moved from Jack to Ham and the three of them did a sort of stare-down, silent nod thing. When it was over, something had been silently agreed upon among them, and Vi wasn’t sure what to think of it all. However, not one word was said, so she had nothing to base it on.

  Violet eyed Rita who shook her head. The two of them looked towards Beatrice who seemed equally baffled, even if she was grinnin
g happily up at her uncle Hargreaves. Vi let her gaze travel down Beatrice’s dress, taking in the joy that radiated from head to toe and couldn’t help but notice the clasped hands.

  Beatrice and Smith were clinging to each other. Those hands could have been a symbol for love. In a crowd of friends, they were so linked Vi didn’t think that they could be blown apart. She grinned at the two of them, her heart shining in her chest, and she didn’t think that there could have been a better way to move past losing Rita’s baby than seeing Beatrice beaming with joy.

  The day moved into evening and they left Beatrice and Smith at a little hotel where he’d taken a room for them for the evening. In the morning, the rest of them would be traveling home. Vi watched with careful eyes when Ham cornered Smith. They spoke for a few minutes and when Smith stepped away, into the protection of Beatrice’s presence, Ham stared at Smith with calm frustration.

  “What is that about?” Rita asked in a low voice.

  Vi shook her head but said nothing. She had no idea. Instead, she returned to her rooms and started packing. She gathered the things she’d trailed through the house the day before, and Hargreaves helped by gathering the things the rest of them had left about, moving those items into their rooms.

  Vi stared in dismay. Jack, the fiend, had already packed his things that morning while Vi was still working on her cosmetics. He was, in fact, carefully putting her portable typewriter away and sliding her manuscript into her bag, so it would be ready for the journey home.

  Vi took a deep breath and carefully hung her dresses in her trunk. As she did, she hummed to herself until Jack appeared with a record player and put on her favorite tune. She went through her jewelry making sure each piece was put away, then locked them into her jewelry case and placed her cosmetics in their bag. It took much of the evening for Vi to return her things to her trunks.