A Devious Lot (Antiques & Collectibles Mysteries Book 5) (7 page)

Lillian blinked and straightened her shoulders, and in that moment, he knew she had a spine of steel, even if she didn’t know it herself.

“I’ll try talking to your father again,” he said. “I’ll lay out my plans for the future, and I’ll convince him I’m worthy of you.”

Lillian said clearly, but softly, “My father demands obedience in all things, and although I had hoped, upon his meeting you, that he would like you for my sake, he is determined not to.”

“If I set out a specific plan—”

“It’s no use,” Lillian interrupted. “Every day I have begged and cried and pleaded, but he will not listen.”

Her hands were shaking, and she clenched her silk purse to steady them. With his confidence already wavering, Julius knew if he didn’t have her support to go forward with another meeting, there was no point.

“What about your mother?” he asked. “Is she on our side? Can she help us?”

“She likes you very much,” Lillian said. “But she will never oppose Father. My mother, I’m afraid, is incapable of speaking up for herself or her children.”

Julius felt his jaw tighten. “Your father dictates your life and the life of everyone around him,” he said angrily. “It appears he cares more for Henson’s title and wealth than for your future happiness.” He hesitated to mention the rumors, as they were indelicate at best, but he was desperate to know if she was aware of them. “Have you heard the rumors about Henson?”

“That he poisoned his wife? Yes, of course, I know, but what can I do?” Julius realized she didn’t know about Henson’s trips to Whitechapel, and he couldn’t bring himself to tell her. “Father has known Victor many years,” she said. “They’re members of the same club. He refuses to believe anything negative about him.”

“What do you believe?”

Lillian’s face paled. “I’m afraid of him,” she said.

Julius suddenly realized other guests in the room were watching them. He smiled widely. “We must not look so depressed,” he said quietly. “Others will take note.” Lillian nodded and smiled, but it was hard for her to keep it in place and it quickly faded. “I can’t let you marry him,” he said. “Even if I wasn’t in love with you, I couldn’t let you do it. He could be dangerous. I need time to think and plan. Meet me at the Crystal Palace in a week. I’ll know what to do.”

“I don’t know if I can,” she said. “I’ll be leaving for our country house in Surrey the next day, and it may be impossible for me to get away.”

“Please don’t leave London without giving me a fighting chance,” he said. “I’m not sure how I will live without you.”

He knew it was unfair to say such a thing, that he was burdening her. She had no choice but to respect and obey her father’s wishes.

“I don’t want to leave you,” she said. “But my parents plan to announce the engagement in Surrey. Everyone will be there, friends from London, locals from the village, all of them wishing us well.” Her lips trembled. “All the while, I’ll be dying inside.”

“Trust me, Lillian. I will fix this,” he said. “Promise you will meet me.”

Lillian looked at him, her eyes wide and frightened. “I promise I will try,” she said.

At precisely nine, dinner was announced. Percy led the way to the dining room with Harriett on his arm, and each man took the lady they were assigned to escort. Before Julius could offer his arm to Lillian, she opened her purse and took out a small wooden box.

“This is for you, a present.” She pressed the box into his hand. “Don’t open it now. Later, when you’re alone.”

“All right.” He slipped the box into his jacket. “Shall we go in to dinner?”

“Yes, please,” Lillian said.

She took his arm. As they walked to the dining room, he grew more and more miserable. Whatever was in that box, it wasn’t intended to be a present. He knew it was meant to be a farewell gift.

Chapter 5

After a simple breakfast of toast and marmalade and a strong cup of coffee, Matt drove Molly to the police station in Keensburg. Molly checked in, and a few minutes later a female constable took her through a key-coded locked door to a small room, where she had her fingerprints taken. When that task was done, she introduced her to a young woman detective named Samantha Anderson.

“Thanks for doing this,” Samantha said. “If you’ll follow me, we’ll go to a room where you can write down the events of this morning. All right?”

“Sure,” Molly said. What choice did she have?

The room was windowless, and Molly sat at a table and wrote the account of what had happened that morning. When she was done, she handed the pad and pen back to Samantha.

“Thank you,” she said. “Now, if I might impose one more time. Would you mind reading your account into a microphone? Inspector Boyle’s worried you’ll go home to America and not be able to return for a trial. He’d like to record your statement.”

“I have no problem with that,” Molly said. Samantha set her up with a microphone, and Molly read her statement. When she was finished, she turned to Samantha. “Have you worked with Inspector Boyle a long time?”

“A few years,” Samantha said.

“He told me he’s retiring soon.”

“Yeah. He’ll be missed, he’s that good.”

“Is he from Marlow Crossing?”

“No, like most of us on the force, he lives in Keensburg. The village falls under our department’s jurisdiction.” Samantha gathered up her things. “We’re stretched thin by budget cuts. I’m helping him on this investigation, but there’s only so much I can do when I’ve got a load of other cases to sort through. Anyway, it’s not your worry. I’ll take you back to your husband. Thanks again for coming by.”

Molly rejoined Matt and glanced at her watch. The entire process had taken less than ninety minutes. Walking back to the parking lot, Matt said, “I was reading up on Keensburg. There are some antique shops you might want to explore, and a park with walking trails. Would you like to do that before we head back?”

“No, I think we should go home. Tessa looked worn out and I’m worried about her,” Molly said. “She doesn’t need this kind of stress at her age.”

“Do you know if she had anything planned for lunch?”

“I’m not sure. Let’s stop by Tasty Tidbits and pick up something.”

As they drove back to Marlow Crossing, Matt switched on the radio to a jazz station. Molly thought about her friend Jazzy, and Java Jitters, and Burlington. The view outside the window was similar to Vermont, but it wasn’t the same. It wasn’t home. Her mind turned to Lombardi.

“I wonder if I should have called Lombardi,” Molly said.

“Why?”

“He’s a detective. I should have asked him if I was doing the right thing, giving my fingerprints to the British police, reading my statement.”

“I can’t see what choice you had not to cooperate,” Matt said. “It’s not like you’re in any trouble.”

“I hope you’re right,” Molly said.

They arrived in Marlow Crossing twenty minutes later, and Matt drove past St. John’s Church, but instead of turning onto Stony Creek Run he took a right onto the High Street. The village center was in the form of an oval with shops and restaurants framing a pretty park where tourists and locals could relax on benches or have picnics on the grass. The park was always busy in the summer, but at the end of October, the only people Molly saw were two women walking a blond Labrador and a small black and tan Dachshund.

Tasty Tidbits was a popular café on the oval. Even out of season, they had to wait ten minutes in the take-out deli line. Molly ordered two pounds of chicken salad with walnuts and cranberries, a loaf of twelve-grain bread, and a large case of sparkling water. Back in the car, Matt steered them onto Stony Creek Run. They drove downhill past the church and its manicured grounds, the ancient cemetery, and over the small bridge that spanned Stony Creek. Matt slowed the car as they rounded the bend in the road, and White Dove Cottage came into view. A gray van was parked in the driveway.

“I bet that’s the crime scene investigators,” Molly said.

“Boyle’s car is gone,” Matt said.

“He’s probably talking to Giles, Brenda, and Penelope. I wish I was a fly on the wall. I’d love to know how they react when they hear Tiffany is dead.”

“Do you think we got Giles in trouble?”

“For having a disagreement about the eye miniature?” She shook her head. “But he better hope the techs don’t find his fingerprints or any trace of him being in the cottage. I’m sure he’s already a person of interest, since he’s Tiffany’s ex.”

Matt parked the car behind Tessa’s, and they went into the cottage with their groceries. Molly saw her through the kitchen window sitting at the patio table.

“I’ll let her know we brought lunch home,” she said.

She went out and Tessa smiled weakly. She was bundled in a thick Irish white wool sweater, and held a mug of tea in her hands.

“We picked up chicken salad and bread at Tasty Tidbits,” Molly said.

“Thank you, dear,” Tessa said. “I haven’t even thought about lunch.”

Molly pulled up a chair and sat beside her. “You hardly touched your breakfast. Are you feeling all right?”

“I haven’t felt this bad since Jack died,” Tessa said. “In some ways, this is worse. At least Jack was eighty. Tiffany was young and vibrant. Do the police have any idea how she died?”

“I don’t know, but Inspector Boyle was going to ask the coroner to prioritize the autopsy, so maybe he’ll find out soon.” Molly shivered. “Do you want to go inside and have lunch?”

“I suppose I should get out of the cold,” Tessa said. “I thought Gingersnap might be nearby, and if she saw me, she’d come out of hiding.” Tessa reached out and took Molly’s hand. “I’m sorry you had to be the one to find Tiffany this morning. It must have been horrible for you.”

“I don’t think it’s sunk in yet that she’s dead,” Molly said. “The entire morning feels like a bad dream.”

“Her death will have a profound effect on the village,” Tessa said. “Her parents are deceased, and even though she lived in London for years, she’s still a local girl.” She sipped her tea, and Molly smelled cinnamon. “Have you called Clara and told her?”

“Not yet,” Molly said. “Honestly, I’m afraid to. Mom already thinks I’m a trouble magnet, always at the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“Is that what you think?”

“No. I like to believe I’ve been at the right place at the right time.”

Tessa smiled. “I like your attitude,” she said.

“Let’s have lunch,” Molly said.

They ate lunch, and for the rest of the day tried their best to relax, but it wasn’t easy to do with Tessa turning on the television every hour to see if the local news was reporting anything. The first newscast they watched that mentioned Tiffany’s death was a broadcast from Keensburg at the five o’clock news hour. The anchorwoman behind the desk didn’t divulge much. She read out Tiffany’s name and age and where her death occurred, and a prepared statement from the Keensburg police stating they were in the early stages of an investigation and would inform the public as soon as they knew more. When Inspector Boyle rang the doorbell at half past seven, Molly was surprised to see him.

“Sorry to disturb you at such a late hour,” he said. “I was hoping I might have a word with your aunt, if it’s not an imposition.”

“Come in,” Molly said. “I’ll tell her you’re here.”

She left him in the sitting room and went down the hall to the kitchen. Matt was cleaning up after dinner, scrubbing the pots and pans. Tessa was wiping off the table.

“Inspector Boyle is here to see you,” Molly told her. “He wants to talk to you about Tiffany.”

Tessa smoothed her skirt. “Will you stay with me?”

“Yes, if you want me to,” Molly said.

Boyle shook Tessa’s hand and made sure she was settled on the sofa with Molly before he began. He chose to sit in a Windsor chair next to the cold fireplace. First, he offered his condolences in a soft and gentle tone, as if he sensed Tessa’s fragile emotional state, which in Molly’s opinion made him a real gentleman. He asked her simple questions, starting with her name, how many years she’d worked as a schoolteacher, and how she’d transitioned to retirement. He told her he was retiring soon and looking forward to it. And after a while, Molly saw Tessa’s shoulders relax, and Boyle did, too. Finally, he asked her about Tiffany.

“How long was she in Marlow Crossing when you first met up with her?” he asked.

“Only a few weeks,” Tessa said. “It was Gingersnap’s doing. Tiffany had adopted her from the shelter, but the cat kept coming round to see me. One day, Tiffany came with her. She gave me a loaf of raisin bread, and offered her apologies. I invited her in for coffee. From that point on, she’d show up at the door every so often with the cat and we’d chat and have a coffee or cup of tea.”

“Did you teach Tiffany at school?”

“Oh, yes, I taught her, and Giles. They were in the last year of school I taught,” Tessa said.

“I assume Giles was a good student,” he said. “He went to Oxford.”

“Yes, he did,” Tessa said slowly. “But I rather think his parents had something to do with his being accepted.”

“Why is that?”

“Well, I don’t like to speak badly of him, but if you must know, he wasn’t the brightest pupil. Honestly, Tiffany was far more studious.”

Boyle made a note in his book. “When you got together with Tiffany, did she seem to have a preference for coffee or tea?”

“She drank both.”

“Did she talk to you about Giles?”

“Every time she was here, she went on and on about him,” Tessa said. “She couldn’t understand why he’d left her for Penelope. I tried to explain to her it’s not uncommon, people falling out of love. Sometimes there isn’t anything we can do about it.”

Boyle said, “When I told Giles about her death, he didn’t shed a tear, or show any emotion at all. I thought it was odd, but you know him, yes? Would you say that was a normal reaction for him to have?”