Death Misconstrued Page 9

  Edna shook her head.

  “You have no idea who killed Betty?”

  She shook her head again.

  “Marian just stepped outside for a moment,” Georgette told Edna. “She’ll stay with you until we find out what is happening.” After giving Edna’s hand a reassuring squeeze, Georgette left the room, Charles following after her.

  “She told you twice as much as she told me,” Joseph said when they joined him and Marian. “She didn’t say a word about Mrs. Allyn or why she lied to me.”

  “Georgette inspires confidence.” Marian was biting back a grin and Joseph shook his head and shrugged as if he wasn’t bothered at being outshone by a spinster from a small town.

  “Georgette does have a way about her,” Joseph agreed. “Which might be useful as I’m not officially on this case.”

  “What does that mean, ‘be useful’?” Charles’s hesitation was enough for Joseph to slap him on the shoulder and say, “You can come too.”

  “Come where?” Charles didn’t seem any more relieved because they were going to be interfering as a group.

  “To visit the nephew and the neighbor and provide condolences.”

  Charles groaned.

  “Our girls don’t want to leave Bath if Edna is undefended.”

  Marian grinned and saluted the others. “Speaking of, I believe that’s my cue to return to the feisty victim.”

  “You have what I gave you?” Joseph’s gaze was intent.

  Marian patted her handbag.

  “Protect her if you can, but you’re my priority.”

  “This is a fiend with a pillow who strikes while old women sleep,” Marian told Joseph. She sounded entirely fearless. “I doubt we’ll be in trouble as long as she remains with someone nearby.”

  “Don’t leave her,” Georgette said. “Not for anyone.”

  Marian was nodding before Georgette had even finished stating the words. Joseph placed a soft kiss on Marian’s lips as Charles held out his arm to Georgette. They took a black cab back to Edna’s house, but they walked up the steps to Anna Allyn’s house instead.

  “Do you think she killed Betty and tried to kill Edna?” Joseph asked in a whisper.

  Georgette looked at Joseph and then shook her head.

  Anna answered after the second round of knocking. “Can I help you?” Her face was sweaty, her cheeks flushed, and her hair was wrapped in a kerchief.

  “We visited Edna in the hospital and thought you might like to hear how she is.”

  Anna looked over her shoulder, and Georgette could hear the sound of a little boy crying. Slowly, Anna opened the door and Georgette saw the child sitting on the stairs, clutching a teddy bear, eyes swollen as though he’d been sobbing for the entirety of the day.

  “Ignore Hal,” Anna said. “He’s still adjusting to the idea of an adventure in Australia.”

  “I don’t want to leave my daddy!” the boy shouted. “I don’t want to go!”

  “Your daddy shouldn’t have another family,” Anna shouted back. “He doesn’t care about you or me or Lee! He only cares about that whore and the other children.”

  “I hate you!” Hal shouted. “I hate you, I hate you, I hate you.”

  Anna turned to Georgette, Joseph, and Charles who were all looking on in shock and snapped, “What? He’ll get over it.”

  Georgette hardly thought so, but she closed her eyes and breathed in deeply to steady herself. “Did you try to kill Edna? Did you kill Betty?”

  “What? Why would I?”

  “Betty knew that you tried to trick Mr. Allyn into marriage.”

  “Betty thought I tried to trick Dennis into marriage. She saw me as an idiot. Some…some…cow who gave the milk too soon. That wasn’t what happened. I wouldn’t have killed Betty for believing that and Edna lent me the money I needed to leave.”

  “I hate her!” Hal screamed. “I hate her and I hate you.”

  “This isn’t a good time,” Anna snapped. “What do you want from me? Do you need to know I’m stupid? You know that already. Everyone in Bath who knows me knows that about me! Do you need to know that Dennis wouldn’t have done anything to Edna or Betty? Because he wants us to go. He wants me to divorce him. He wants to marry that whore and start over in Kent. ‘Take the children, Anna,’” she mimicked. “‘I’ll send you money.’ That was a lie of course. The only reason we can go is because I took the money from our joint account, sold the jewelry he gave me and everything we had of value. He isn’t going to send me a cent or ever help with Hal and Lee.”

  Georgette winced. “What are you going to do in Australia?”

  Anna sighed in resignation. “Marry another man who doesn’t love me and hope he’ll be kinder than Dennis and love my children even though they aren’t his.”

  Georgette held herself back from shaking Anna silly, but only just.

  “What about Kaspar?” Georgette asked. Anna’s eyes widened, and Georgette realized what that had sounded like. “Do you think he might have killed Betty and tried to kill Edna?” she clarified. She couldn’t let herself be distracted with the idea of Kaspar marrying Anna.

  Anna looked at her sobbing child, glanced through the open door to the parlor where her other child looked as though he’d cried himself to sleep and said quietly, “I don’t really care. I don’t have it in me right now. Edna is alive. I mourned Betty a while ago, and every other part of my life has fallen apart. I suppose I’m too selfish to do anything more than send her my good thoughts and keep myself and my children from falling entirely to pieces.”

  “Good luck,” Georgette said, but she didn’t leave. She crossed to Hal, squatted down, and whispered, “None of this is your fault. Both of your parents love you.”

  He stared at her with wide watery eyes, and she knew there was nothing that she could say that would make this moment less devastating, so she kissed him on the forehead. “It’ll get better. I promise, it’ll get better someday.”

  She left Anna’s house without looking back, because if Georgette dared to eye the soon-to-be divorcée, she might just wring the woman’s neck for causing that broken look in her son’s eyes. Rather than get back in the black cab, she called, “I need a moment.”

  She crossed the street to a minuscule little green space with a stone bench and sat down, pressing her face into her hands. She wasn’t crying, but she was shaking. There was so much hurt in not being loved. In being the extraneous woman who was left to fend for herself. Georgette had realized long ago that the fate of some married women was worse. She didn’t like to think too much about it, but she had known it was true.

  “Are you all right, my dear?”

  Georgette looked up and found Mr. Page.

  “It’s just hard.”

  “The fate of an unmarried woman is very difficult. You have to fend for yourself. I understand you turned down Mr. Parker’s offer of marriage. You should be aware that he was doing you quite an honor, my dear.”

  Georgette felt as though she’d been transported to some version of Hades as she looked up at Mr. Page.

  “Don’t you think that loving each other matters?”

  “Love comes with time.”

  “It didn’t for Anna and Dennis Allyn.”

  Mr. Page gave Georgette a derisive look. “Mrs. Allyn needs to content herself with her home, her children, and her husband.”

  “Her husband is stepping out on her,” Georgette shot back. “He’s having children with another woman and neglecting those he has with Anna.”

  “Would he if she were attending to her duties? I can assure you that I have known Anna Allyn since she married her husband and joined us here. She has complained from the beginning.”

  Attending to her duties? Georgette swallowed back a curse, realizing that Mr. Page was a man of the old-school and there would be no changing his outlook by some pithy remark any more than there would be for comforting little Hal Allyn.

  She stood. “Good day, Mr. Page.”

  Chapter 13
>
  Georgette Dorothy Marsh

  “I’m not quite sure how to get Kaspar Williams to answer our questions,” Joseph said as Georgette returned to them.

  “Let’s go back to Mrs. Parker’s home and have lunch. Maybe we’ll be struck by inspiration. At the very least,” Charles told them, “we’ll need to contact Edna or Mr. Page and discover where Kaspar is staying.”

  Georgette shuddered at the thought of speaking again to Mr. Page, but she said nothing. Lunch was a quiet affair, and Georgette took the afternoon to go up to her shared room and start her new book. Charles and Joseph had decided to visit the local constables in the guise of seeing if there was merit to their fiancées’ concerns and see what they could ferret out. They intended to drop a note by Kaspar’s hotel and invite him to come by that evening for drinks. Hopefully they’d be able to pin him down and persuade somewhat reasonable answers out of him.

  Georgette worked until Marian knocked on the bedroom door. “We’ll be having dinner soon.”

  Georgette twisted to stare at Marian. “Did you leave Edna alone?”

  “I told the nurses our concerns and how the local constables didn’t believe us. Dismissed us as silly women. That was all it took. They arranged a series of nurses to stay with Edna until she was released from the hospital. Her bed was moved, so there will be no sneaking up on Edna without someone seeing, and they were cosseting her when I left.” Marian gave her a smile and left the room.

  Georgette relaxed, but only a little. The start of Georgette’s new story had turned distinctly sour and sad with a boy rather like Hal losing his parents and contracting a terrible illness. Georgette stared at the pages and then tossed them into the rubbish bin before changing her dress, brushing her hair, and following Marian down the stairs.

  Dinner was quiet. Harrison and Mrs. Parker had decided to visit one of the local restaurants that had a celebrated French chef, but Georgette had little doubt that Harrison was avoiding her. They had been joined by Mr. Page who seemed a bit at loose ends with Edna in the hospital or had simply wished more time with Mrs. Parker.

  Georgette felt bad about driving poor Harrison off. She was the interloper in this house, not Harrison, but her presence was sending him away.

  Joseph spoke as they ate. “I understand you love Harper’s Hollow. I did as well.”

  Charles glanced at Georgette and she noticed something in his gaze. She looked a question, but he just smiled at her.

  “Charles is going to buy a rowboat,” Marian said significantly.

  “Perfect,” Joseph said, leaning back with his wine glass, “then we won’t have to.”

  Marian knew Joseph was teasing her, so she ignored it.

  “We could buy a house, however. I contacted a man and told him our budget and what we were looking for.”

  Her eyes widened.

  “First, however, we need to leave here. Bath doesn’t seem as healthy as it is purported to be.”

  They finished their dinner and took refuge in the parlor with more wine, cigarettes for Marian and Joseph, a pipe for Charles, and a pen and paper for Georgette. She sketched out ideas for her next book, but she couldn’t help but find herself writing a story about another spinster.

  What if she did, she thought as she wrote out a list of names to see if they sparked a character in Georgette’s head. Clara. Sarah. No. Not those. Ottoline. The half-German daughter of a…of an…accountant. Her mother had died when she was quite small. No. Not that one.

  Georgette’s mouth twisted as she wrote out more names: Hester. Violet. Fallow. Mina. No, Georgette thought, Wilhelmina Francesca. One of many children. Perhaps the seventh daughter, but not the last daughter. Perhaps…lost in her family?

  Lost in her family and a spinster? No. Hero. Daughter of a literary professor who adored Shakespeare. Maud. Lily. Alma. Ernestine. Nora. Mavis. Georgette’s mouth twisted again. Ideas were sparking, but she rejected them almost immediately.

  “What’s this?”

  Georgette glanced up and found Charles reading over her shoulder. He was followed by Marian.

  “Are these baby names?”

  “Ottoline?” Charles sounded horrified.

  “Character names,” Georgette laughed. “Josephine wasn’t intended to be a series and I think it’s time to retire Bard’s Crook.”

  “What if you didn’t?” Charles asked. “At least until our house is settled.”

  Georgette paused and then her head tilted. “Were you thinking of an expensive house? Perhaps one that needs some work?”

  Joseph laughed, which gave Charles away, but he kept his expression smooth as he answered. “Regardless of where we buy and what is possible, another Bard’s Crook just might buy furniture.”

  “I do enjoy writing in Bard’s Crook.”

  She also enjoyed the idea of buying a pair of olive leather chesterfields for their parlor. Perhaps a really nice iron bed for their room. Something made by artisans with branches or whatnot. What about if when she got stuck on her Bard’s Crook stories, she wrote a story about—

  “Vega,” Georgette said aloud. “Or Tiggy?”

  “Tiggy.” Marian grinned. “I love it and her already. I want the stories of Tiggy. I want to read her adventures.”

  Georgette laughed and gave Charles a sly look. “Perhaps a dash of Bard’s Crook with a side of Tiggy will get a new roof. Or paper in the library. That ladder looked askew, but surely a handy sort of fellow can step in and fix it.”

  “Nothing is certain,” Charles started to tell her, but there was a knock at the door and Joseph rose to answer it. He led Kaspar into the parlor, immediately lighting him a cigarette and handing it over.

  “The nurses wouldn’t let me see Edna this evening,” Kaspar said with a sigh. “I told her that I would never hurt her, but—”

  He seemed quite upset, but as much as Georgette wanted to believe his upset, perhaps he was simply a good actor. “Well, you argued with Betty before she died—”

  “Not about something you kill over,” Kaspar huffed. “Betty didn’t approve of my girl. We argued. I told Betty I loved Daisy and I was going to marry her, and Betty told me I would regret it as much as Dennis Allyn regretted marrying Anna.”

  “So what happened?”

  “I stormed out. I went to ask Daisy to marry me. I was going to bring her back to Betty and…and…make Betty love her.”

  “And?”

  “Daisy was out. She was a typist, and I heard she might be at the teashop having a cuppa and a bun, so I followed her.”

  Georgette had little doubt, given the sour twist to his mouth, that the story didn’t end well.

  “What happened?” Marian asked softly.

  Charles and Joseph seemed to sense the answer because Joseph handed Kaspar a fresh cigarette and Charles pushed a tumbler of whiskey into his hand.

  Kaspar hung his head. “She was kissing her boss in the alcove next to the teashop. He was married, of course. She ended up in trouble, and Betty ended up saving me.”

  Georgette wondered how they could confirm that story, but Kaspar seemed to have already thought that problem out because he said, “You know, Edna didn’t know it, but Betty changed her will to favor Edna over me.”

  “Did she?” Georgette asked gently. “Were you upset?”

  “No,” Kaspar scoffed. “I have a good position. I don’t need the few pence Betty had beyond the house.”

  “Can anyone confirm that story?” Joseph asked. He took a deep puff on his cigarette, which removed any intensity from the question.

  “The solicitor,” Kaspar muttered. “I told Betty to invite Edna when Betty mentioned how lonely she was. When my father died, he asked me to look after them. A widow and a spinster. No male friends. How he must be looking down on me in disgust. Betty dead, Edna in the hospital afraid of me. A deathbed promise that I can’t keep.”

  Kaspar took a large gulp of the whiskey and then coughed as though it burned a little too much. Georgette sighed as she studied him. His story w
as utterly verifiable, and it explained why he bothered with Edna, who really didn’t enjoy his presence.

  “What do you think about Anna Allyn and her husband? Would Dennis Allyn have tried to keep Edna from assisting his wife back to Australia?”

  Kaspar scoffed again. “He’s been trying to drive Anna home to her family for at least a year or two. If he realized that Edna was going to hand over whatever she has squirreled away to help Anna leave, he’d probably drop to his knees in utter joy.”

  “Fabulous,” Georgette muttered under her breath. She had very much wanted to trap Kaspar and have him arrested for murdering Betty and hurting Edna. That way she and Charles could escape into the dawn to be wed without delay. Perhaps even, she thought, into that house that had felt so right.

  Joseph stepped in and questioned Kaspar from every possible side, but there was nothing to say. He’d stopped by Edna’s home to tell her he was leaving. He found her moaning and bruised on the stairs and stumbled outside the house.

  Georgette had already moved beyond Kaspar, but with the information they had already about the Allyns, there was nowhere left to go. They didn’t know enough about Edna in order to answer questions about her life or find those who might have had a motive to murder her. She’d spoken of a few others during their tea and then only in passing like they were barely acquaintances. There was, of course, Mr. Page, but what reason would he have? It is true he seemed attached to Edna at first, but he was spending more time with Aunt Parker. She’d seen no reason for him to wish Edna dead, and he’d barely spoken a word about Betty. As it was, he had been on a walk with Edna when Betty died.

  What if, however, the real target was Betty and Edna figured out what happened to her? But no, Georgette thought, no. Edna would have said so at the hospital, wouldn’t she? It was true that Edna hadn’t been as forthcoming in the beginning as Georgette would have hoped, but since admitting her fears about her cousin’s death, she had been open without a hint of deception.

  “None of this makes sense,” Kaspar muttered. “Why hurt a couple of useless old ladies who only matter to a few?”