5 Murder by Syllabub (27 page)

The crowd was grinning, chuckling, whispering among themselves, but no one offered an answer.

“A sippet, of course.” It was Elizabeth.

“I beg your pardon, madam? A what?”

Elizabeth was actually smiling. “A sippet, sir. What else would a poor man use?”

Roger grinned, enjoying every minute of this little play. “Madam is correct. Of course, you’d use a sippet. But, good sir, you look confused.” Roger stood in front of a smaller table, addressing an older man dressed in a suit and tie. His wife had on a pale green pantsuit and pearls. They looked as if they didn’t know whether to be alarmed, insulted or to go along with the act. The man nodded his head and smiled a little.

Roger turned around, surveying the room. “Good people, you all look confused. Am I to believe not one of you has brought your sippet with you?” Laughter broke out and the murmurs got louder.

“Then I must enlighten you, so you’ll come properly prepared for your next journey. A sippet, good friends, is a piece of stale bread.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a rather
misshapen, large and very hard piece of bread. “In the eighteenth century, bread had no preservatives, so it hardened quickly. Dinner was in the middle of the day, two o’clock to be precise, and supper was just that. Something to sup on before you retired for the night. If you were a poor man, you kept back a piece of bread. Then the next day you could use it to dip into your bowl, scooping up the liquid and—what did you do? You sipped it. Ergo, the sippet.”

Spoons. Sippets. Silver. I began to
see.

“I wonder. Do you suppose
… and if that’s the case, then … but how … It had to happen that way. Or at least, something like that. It’s the only thing that makes sense.”

All the people at our table were looking at me, and those at several of the adjoining ones. So was Roger, the storytelling waiter.

“Madam is correct. Sippets did make sense. On your next visit, I hope to see yours.” He raised one eyebrow at me, made a small bow to the diners in the room, picked up a water pitcher and started making the rounds.

“You weren’t talking about sippets, were you?” Cora Lee
dove right in. “You know something. What?”

“I don’t know anything, but I’ve got a pretty good
idea where that silver tea set is and, if I’m right, who our thief and murderer is.”

“Just one person?”

“If I’m right.”

“Are you going to tell the police?”

“I’m telling one right now. I think I know how we can be certain.”

“You’re going to lay a trap.” There was no question in Elizabeth’s voice, just anticipation.

“
To catch a thief
. There was a movie with that name. Is that what we’re going to do? Catch a thief?” Cora Lee’s smile was bright.

“Maybe. Let’s see if I’m right about the tea set first.”

“You know where the tea set is?” Fear was on Mildred’s face, but something else, too. Something I couldn’t quite interpret.

Cora Lee broke my train of thought. “It’s at Smithwood, isn’t it
?”

“I think so.”

“Then let’s go find it.” The old Elizabeth was back, exhaustion forgotten, eyes bright, shoulders squared, ready for battle.

“You’ll do no such thing.” Aaron Glass couldn’t have looked more upset. “You’ve had two murders at Smithwood. Practically the whole place is a crime scene. You can’t go messing around, hunting for things. You shouldn’t have gone down in the cellar
to begin with.”

“If we hadn’t, we’d never have found Louis.” Aunt Mary eyed me thoughtfully. I wondered if she’d made the same connection I just had.

“Aaron is right. The old kitchen is taped off, and that includes the basement.” Noah paused and took a long look at his mother. “Keep your noses out of things. Ellen, if you have some ideas, tell me. I’ll make sure we follow up. ”

“Not if Lieutenant McMann has anything to do with it. He didn’t try very hard to find your father when he disappeared, and he doesn’t seem too anxious to go hunting for murderers now.”

Noah sighed. “That doesn’t mean you get to go poking around looking for them, either.”

Roger appeared with a round tray loaded with plates. He unerringly handed them around
to the right diners and conversation ceased as we ate the delicious food.

It wasn’t until plates were cleared that Noah spoke. “If you’re finished, let’s get out of here. There’s a line of people waiting for table
s.”

“Good idea. I’ll get the check.” Aaron Glass raised his hand, put his other one out toward Noah, indicating the check was his, and handed Roger his credit card. “As soon as he gets back, we’re gone.” He turned to me. “Please don’t do anything foolish. Leave that privilege to the police.” He signed the slip Roger handed him and pushed back his chair. “I’ll be in touch tomorrow, Elizabeth. Leo wants to do his search then. After he finishes and finds nothing, we should be able to bid all this nonsense goodbye. Which I will now wish all of you. Goodbye, everyone. Ladies, have a safe trip home.”

Noah was on his feet, holding his mother’s coat. “I have to drop Felicity off at the hospital and then I have some things I need to do at the station. I’ll be home in a couple of hours. I’ll try to be quiet as I expect all of you will be in bed by that time.” This he addressed to his mother,

He gave each of us a
piercing look, leaving no doubt that he expected
bed
to be the only place any of us would go as well. We looked at each other but no one said anything. Felicity, however, gave a snort of what might have been laughter.

Noah ignored her. “Cora Lee, are you all right to drive home?”

The look she gave him was scornful. “Are you suggesting a half glass of wine makes me incapable or that I’m too old to drive after dark?”

Noah sighed and turned toward Felicity, who struggled to
keep a straight face. “If you laugh, I’ll never forgive you.” He took her by the arm. “I’ll see the rest of you at home. Later.”

We watched as Noah and Felicity threaded their way through tables and headed for the door.

“Ladies, are we ready to go?” Cora Lee picked up her cane, looped it over her arm and started to inch her way around her chair.

“I think so.” Elizabeth laid down her napkin and pushed her chair in as far as possible before she turned to the rest of us. “Can you get out? We have a lot to do and not much time to do it. Ellen, I assume you know where we’re going to start?

Aunt Mary smiled. “Yes, Elizabeth, I think she does.”

“I
t smells like mold in here.” Cora Lee stopped and gave an disapproving sniff.

We were wandering the house that
had been unoccupied for years—the east wing.

“It smells better than the last time we crept around an old house in the dark.” Aunt Mary flashed her light
on the walls. “Does this one have electricity?”

Elizabeth started patting the wall. “It must. They wouldn’t put it in two houses and not the third.”

“Don’t count on it.” Cora Lee felt the opposite wall with little success. “My father and grandfather weren’t both nicknamed ‘Scrooge’ for nothing.”

“Move over.” Mildred eased by Cora Lee. “All the lights on this side are the old fashioned kind. You either pull an overhead string or there’s a wall thing you push. Here it is.”

Lights came on. We stood in what was beginning to feel like a normal kitchen. Only, in this room, the long plank table and the benches on either side seemed to be the focal point of the room. The fireplace was smaller and the hearth didn’t extend into the room. There were no barrels beside it and no cooking pots or hanging utensils. There was, however, more furniture. What appeared to be a duplicate of Hattie’s linen press sat on one wall with an open-shelved highboy beside it. One shelf was piled with white plates, mugs and serving bowls, now gray with dust. Another shelf was laden with pewter, equally filthy. A lovely gravy boat sat on a stack of plates; mugs and serving platters took up the rest of the space. The dust that covered them had turned each item almost black.

“Tell me again why we’re here.” Cora Lee leaned heavily on her cane, her mouth puckered in distaste. “The last time I was in this dreary little room was with Mother. We walked through this house deciding what to pack and what to just leave where it was. All we’re going to find is dust and spiders.”

“I think we might do better than that,” I said.

“Why?” Cora Lee took a step across the wood floor. Dust blew up. Her sneeze wasn’t gentle. “Damn. Does anyone have a tissue?”

Aunt Mary reached into her jacket pocket and handed her one.

“Why do you think the tea set is here?” Elizabeth hadn’t moved since the lights went on. She stood beside Mildred, surveying the room, as reluctant as Cora Lee to start exploring. “It seems like a dumb place to hide something like that.”

“I don’t think the murderer had much choice.” I started to move slowly around the room, looking at possible hiding places.

“What do you mean, not much choice?” Mildred followed my progress, mouth tight, eyes anxious. “What do you think happened?”

“I think whoever shot Louis hadn’t planned to do it. I think Louis walked in on the murderer getting ready to leave with the tea set. They panicked and shot him. When they saw he was dead, they were afraid to carry the tea set out. I think they hid it, intending to come back later, when it was safe.”

“You think they never came back?”

“I’m pretty sure they didn’t, and I think I know why.” I stopped my slow crawl and turned toward Cora Lee. “You and your mother did your walkthrough of this house before Virginia and Monty came to live here. After your father died and right before your mother moved out. Is that right? Over thirty years ago. Has anyone been in here since?”

Mildred answered. “Depends on what you mean by
‘in here.’ No one’s lived here, but periodically we go through it, check for leaks, make sure no animals are setting up housekeeping. That’s about all. The police supposedly searched through it when Louis went missing, but I don’t think they tried very hard. They’d already decided he ran off with the Smithwood tea set. They put out an APB, alerted all the pawn shops and sat back and waited for him to show up.” She walked around the room, stopping to look more closely at an iron candleholder. She rested her finger lightly on a Windsor chair and held it up to examine the dust. “He never did. Until yesterday.”

Aunt Mary and I exchanged looks. It was going to take a long time for Mildred to get over her bitterness at how Louis, and she and Noah,
had been treated. The easy assumption that Louis was a thief despite all appearances. Not only had he lived honorably, but he was an educated man with a degree in agricultural practices, known to be a loving family man and a loyal friend to the Smithwoods. None of that counted. He was a thief. Period. Mildred had lived with that injustice for thirty years, had tried to shield Noah from her bitterness, had raised him to be an educated man of high principles and made sure he thought highly of the father he barely remembered. In that, she had succeeded. The bile she’d swallowed all those years seemed not to want to stay swallowed any longer. Payton Culpepper had also had a father branded a thief, only his father had died in jail. What had Hattie taught Payton about his father other than that he carried an old and honorable name? Payton certainly was an educated man, but now rumors were flying that his principles had slipped. Was that true? I wondered. Hattie had her own set of values. Very different from Mildred’s, but I was sure she clung to them with intensity. Whether they included “thou shalt not steal,” I wasn’t sure.

“What was this room used for?” Elizabeth turned in a circle, examining every corner. “It looks like a kitchen, but why would they need a second one?”

“They didn’t.” Cora Lee moved to the center of the room and stared down at the plank table. “This thing is filthy. Even worse than the one in the real kitchen.”

“What did they use it for?”
It reminded me of the room in Hattie’s cottage, but hers had a cozy fire burning and was clean.

“This house was for the, well, lower class guests. Back then, roads were bad and guests often came unexpectedly. If it rained, they stayed.
”

“We know that. The house we live in was used that way.”

Cora Lee nodded. “That wing housed the other plantation owners, people of wealth. Over here, well, over here were the river people. Oh, not the men who loaded the boats, or any of the laborers. Lots of them were black.” Cora Lee took a quick glance at Mildred, but there was no expression on her face. “The people who stayed on this side were shopkeepers, small farmers, riverboat captains, people who traveled for a living, sometimes on the river, often by road. They expected to stay at the plantations and did. Only, not with the ‘gentry.’ They stayed in houses like this. They may have eaten the same food, but not in the dining room. They had beds, but not the best linens. In this case, the food came up from the kitchen downstairs. The plates for the dining room were filled, or the food was put on the best platters and then taken to the dining room; the rest was served to the people staying in this house. On those thick white ironstone plates, or the pewter ones. The only silverware was what they brought with them.”

“No spoons?”
Aunt Mary asked.

“No spoons. Except those used for serving. That’s why the stairs lead from the pathway in front of the kitchen door up to the passageway between the main house and this one. It’s
the reason why, all these years, no one’s ever bothered to come over here much. Nothing of value was in this house. Not trashy stuff, just not the good things. You won’t find a silver spoon over here or a crystal wineglass. They drank out of glassware made on the plantation. Thick, blue, red or clear, with bubbles in it.”

I stared at her for a moment. “I didn’t know glass was made here.”

“Oh, yes. It was made in town as well.”

Aunt Mary had been
examining each piece of furniture in the room, evidently assessing its potential as a hiding place for something as extensive as a tea set. She stopped and peered into a cupboard pushed up against the wall across from the fireplace. In the dark corner, it was barely visible. It was a fairly tall piece, with doors above and what appeared to be a deep drawer across the bottom. “This looks promising.”

Cora Lee walked over beside her. They both
scrutinized the cupboard. Elizabeth and I joined them.

“It couldn’t be that easy, could it?” Cora Lee reached out as if to touch it, but pulled her hand back quickly and again leaned on her cane.

Aunt Mary shook her head. “Only one way to find out.” She took hold of the leather pull on one of the doors and tugged. It came away in her hand. The look on her face was priceless.

“Leather.” Cora Lee laughed. “Some of them had leather pulls instead of metal. Cheaper. Could be made from scraps of cowhide. You’d never find that in the main house,
only over here. Let’s see if I can open it.” She pushed on the door a little then tried to get her finger into the space between the doors. “It’s moving.”

“For God’s sake, be careful. You have no idea what’s in that thing.” Elizabeth stood behind Aunt Mary, Mildred next to her.

“Thanks.” Cora Lee pulled her hand back and we all stared at the cupboard as if it might come alive at any moment.

“This is ridiculous. Cora Lee, move over.” I wiggled the door, trying to get my finger into the space, but it wouldn’t
budge. “I think there’s a catch in here of some sort. I need a knife or something to push it up. Wait a minute.”

I wiggled it one more time and, with great reluctance, the door swung open.

“That’s why it didn’t want to open. Look how it sags. The hinges barely hold the door on. Oh, my god.”

“What? What? Did you fin
d something?” Cora Lee pushed past Aunt Mary to peer into the dark recess of the cupboard. “It’s a bag. An old burlap bag.” She reached out to touch it.

“Don’t.” Mildred hadn’t moved forward but her face twisted with alarm.

“Why ever not? The tea set might be in there.”

“
Or mice.”

Cora Lee’s hand flew back as if
singed. “Mice!” A shudder ran through her. One ran through me as well. Beatrice Potter notwithstanding, I’d never been fond of mice.

“We need something to poke that bag with before we pull it out. If there’s anything alive in there, maybe they’ll run out.” Mildred looked around the room but her eyes kept coming back to the bag, which hadn’t moved. “I hate mice.”

“I don’t see anything we can use.” Aunt Mary looked around the room as well.

“I know.” Cora Lee crept up a little closer to the cupboard and took hold of the door. She shook the cabinet. Nothing happened. She shook it a little harder. Still nothing.

“I don’t think anything’s in there.” Elizabeth bent down a little to get a better look, still keeping her distance. “I think we can maybe pull that end …”

“We’re going to scream.”

“What?” Everyone stared at Cora Lee.

“Why?
” I said. “Do you think that will make the mice run out?” This whole thing was just plain silly. “If we scream, all they’re going to do is hunker down deeper in their nest and put their paws over their ears. Where are those dogs when they’re needed?”

“Locked up in my house where we left them
,” Elizabeth told us as she stared at the burlap bag.

“We have the perfect thing right here.” Aunt Mary pointed at Cora Lee. “You
r cane. Go on. Give that thing a good poke.”

Cora Lee leaned harder on her cane. “No. If they run out, I’ll need it.”

“To do what? Bash them? Here. Give it to me. You all go on the other side of the room.”

No one moved, but Cora Lee handed the cane to Aunt Mary, who inched closer to the cabinet, pushed the crook of the cane into the interior and hooked the sack. She wiggled it gently at first,
poised to flee at the first sign of movement, but nothing happened. She wiggled harder. Still nothing, so she pulled. The sack split apart, spilling its contents into the bottom of the cabinet and onto the floor.

A cream pitcher rolled out and stopped at Cora Lee’s feet. She reached down and picked it up. Even black with tarnish, it was
easy to identify. “We’ve found the tea set.”