Death of a Mad Hatter (A Hat Shop Mystery) (5 page)

“That’s because I was going to be Mrs. Nick Carter,” I said.

“Who?” Fee asked.

“Please do not tell me you’ve never heard of the Backstreet Boys,” I said.

“Sorry, I’m more of a Jonas Brothers girl,” Fee said.

Viv and I exchanged a look. It was a horrible thing to be age-stamped by the boy band of your heart.

“Back to the topic at hand,” I said. “I realize that due to my own selfish neglect, I have no idea what’s been going on in your personal life, so is there someone special that you haven’t told me about?”

“If I haven’t told you before, what makes you think I suddenly will now?” she asked.

“Because I’m asking,” I said. This seemed pretty obvious to me.

Viv tipped her head and studied me. “Sometimes you are such an American.”

“That sounded like an insult,” I said. I looked at Fee. “Did that sound like an insult to you?”

She raised her hands as if to show she was unarmed. “Impartial apprentice here.”

“It’s not an insult,” Viv said. “Just an observation. Americans tend to be more—how do I say it?”

“In-your-face?” I suggested.

“Yes,” she cried. “You have fewer boundaries.”

“So you’re telling me that you have a boundary around your personal life and I am to butt out,” I said.

Viv tossed her long blonde curls over her shoulder. “Yes, I’d say that’s about right.”

“And you really think that’s going to work with me?” I asked.

To her credit, Viv looked at me and laughed. “Right. Whatever was I thinking?”

Apparently, Viv wasn’t just thinking it. Much to my surprise, she evaded my every attempt to get information of the relationship sort out of her. Obviously, she underestimated my staying power.

I decided my best chance for information would be to observe her at the tea and see how she responded to Liam now that she knew he was interested in her. This at least made the idea of an afternoon of awkward conversation and finger sandwiches seem bearable.

In the days before the tea, the Grisbys were in and out of the shop to pick up their hats. Geoffrey Grisby even said his hat had turned out better than he had anticipated, which Viv and I took as high praise from him. Unfortunately, he also used his handkerchief to touch the doorknob on the way in and out of the shop, as if we were unclean somehow. I still didn’t like him and could not imagine why Tina was married to him. I supposed it was none of my business, not that that stopped me from pondering the situation.

On the day of the tea, I was riddled with doubt as to what to wear, but Viv helped me pick a pretty ecru dress with bunches of blue hydrangea blossoms on it. I chose a matching blue sun hat with an ecru ribbon from the shop’s display to advertise Mim’s Whims and wore a strappy pair of navy sandals to complete the look.

Viv looked amazing in a pale-rose-colored dress with white eyelet trim and a white cap that sported a burst of rose-colored eyelash feathers on the right side. She wore taupe sandals that kept us about the same height.

“Think we’ll do?” she asked Fee as we prepared to leave.

“I think hearts will be breaking all over Wonderland when they get a load of you two, yeah?” Fee said.

“We should give her a raise,” I said to Viv.

“Agreed. I have my mobile,” Viv said to Fee. “Call me if you need me.”

“Right,” Fee said.

I had convinced the Grisby family to hire my friend Andre to take pictures of the event. He met us in front of the shop with his equipment loaded into his car and ready to ride.

“Well, look what dropped down from heaven,” he said when he saw us. Andre was looking very dapper himself in black slacks and a cream-colored shirt that complemented the rich brown color of his skin.

“Flattery will get you anywhere,” I said and kissed his cheek.

He grinned. “You’re only saying that because you know I’m already taken.”

He opened the doors for Viv and me, I sat in front and we shot out into the midafternoon traffic. The Grisby estate wasn’t far, and Andre gave a quick history lesson along the way.

“The Grisby estate is called Grisby Hall and it’s located on Bishops Avenue,” Andre said.

“Where all the posh reside,” Viv said from the backseat.

“Indeed,” Andre agreed. “Grisby Hall was built in the eighteen twenties by a steel industrialist, Charles Brady. Unfortunately, his wife spent him into poverty and Geoffrey Grisby Senior’s grandfather, Malcolm Grisby, who was a business associate of Brady’s, picked it up for a song.”

“He must have had quite a voice,” I quipped. Both Andre and Viv rolled their eyes.

“Safe to say he knew how to sing for his supper,” Viv said. They both chuckled, and this time I rolled my eyes.

Andre drove past Hampstead Heath on Spaniards Road toward the exclusive addresses on Bishops Avenue.

“Where did the Grisbys get their fortune?” I asked.

“Malcolm Grisby was also an industrialist. He was what I believe you Americans call a robber baron,” Andre said. “His money came mostly from paying low wages, having good friends in parliament, and crushing his competition by buying them out.”

“Ruthless,” I said.

“Utterly,” Andre agreed.

“It seems the Grisby men like to make money,” Viv said. “I think they consider it quite macho.”

“Do you suppose they’re compensating for something?” I asked. I thought of Geoffrey’s inability to father a child. “Or perhaps for the lack of something?”

Andre laughed. “That’s certainly a theory.”

He turned onto Bishops Avenue and I felt my jaw drop. I had heard it was an exclusive area, but until I saw the tree-lined street with gated mansions, I’d had no idea.

We drove past several huge houses, when Andre put on his signal to turn.

Two large wrought iron gates embellished with gold were open and he pulled right through. In front of us sat a sprawling Greek Revival mansion with a green metal roof and six wide white columns supporting the portico. Painted a bright, blinding white, it was breathtaking.

“So, let me get this straight,” I said. “Geoffrey Grisby Sr. left all of this to go live in Italy for thirty years with his mistress?”

“That’s about the size of it,” Andre said as he stepped out of the car. He popped the trunk in back and grabbed his gear and then handed his keys to a waiting valet.

“Did he have children with his mistress?” Viv asked.

“It’s my understanding that his plumbing had been rerouted, so that wasn’t really an option,” Andre said.

“So he had a kink in his pipe.” Viv chortled.

“I would think a good plunging would take care of that,” I joked.

They both looked at me and Andre shook his head and gave me a pained look.

“Fine, be that way,” I said, knowing full well that they enjoyed teasing me. “Still, I suppose that makes things less complicated. Daphne’s already furious that everything was left to her brother Geoffrey, can you imagine what would have happened if their father had a whole other family that he actually remembered to provide for?”

“I heard he didn’t even think to leave anything to his mistress, Cara Whittles. Not even a measly five quid,” Andre said. “She was with him for thirty years. Can you imagine?”

“Did he think he was going to live forever?” I asked.

“Apparently,” Viv said.

Andre was traveling light with just one camera bag, so he shouldered the bag and the three of us walked up the steps toward the main entrance. I felt as if I should be wearing a toga and sandals as we walked through the large, imposing columns into the house.

A butler in a dark suit stood just inside the door in the center of a highly polished foyer. My eyes were dazzled by the enormous chandelier that hung overhead, which sparkled as light shone through each and every glass crystal.

“Good afternoon, Ms. Tremont, Ms. Parker and Mr. Eisel,” the butler greeted us.

I was a little taken aback that he knew our names, and it must have shown on my face, because he gave me a small smile.

“You are the last three names on my guest list,” he explained. “Marilyn Tofts, the event planner, has been anticipating your arrival. I’m Buckley. If you’ll follow me . . .”

We fell into step behind him. I quickly pulled my cell phone out of my clutch purse. Surely, we weren’t that late. No, we were only off by fifteen minutes. I hoped we hadn’t committed some huge social gaffe by being a few minutes late for an afternoon tea. Then again, I suspected Marilyn was being her micromanaging self and had stirred up the dust about our tardiness.

Buckley led us down a narrow hall that boasted large portraits of what I assumed were deceased members of the Grisby family. My suspicion was confirmed when I saw a wedding portrait of Daphne, looking lovely in a gorgeous white dress standing next to a handsome man, who had the same ruggedly handsome features as her sons.

Since Daphne’s father had been gone for thirty years, I wondered if he had given her away or if he had even shown up for the wedding. It seemed horribly selfish to me for him to have left his wife to raise the children and manage their home while he was off in Italy whooping it up with his girlfriend.

It made me think of my last unfortunate relationship with a man who’d not only still been married when he told me he wasn’t, but had also had me and several other women on the side. Suddenly, I had an urge to kick someone, a man, any man, really hard in the posterior. Irrational, I suppose, but there it was.

Buckley led us into a great room with large floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out onto a large sweeping veranda, which was decorated very festively with many tables in bright colors all set for tea.

Beyond the tables, a gorgeous garden filled the yard. I could see people wandering among the gravel paths admiring the statuary and fountains as well as the sculpted bushes.

“This is fantastic,” Andre gasped.

Buckley gave him an approving nod. He opened a large French door and escorted us out.

Dotty was the first to spot us. She stood under a rose-covered portcullis, talking to a group of ladies. When she saw Viv, she raised her hand in greeting and waved us over.

Viv had done a spectacular job on Dotty’s hat. She had decided to go as the March Hare, the Mad Hatter’s tea party companion who enjoys annoying Alice.

“Ginny, don’t you look lovely,” Dotty said. She wore a pale-yellow dress, which matched the ribbon that had been fashioned into a bow tie on the crown of her straw bowler hat, which was a lovely nut-brown color to represent rabbit fur.

“Thank you, Dotty,” Viv said. “You look lovely as well.”

Dotty introduced us to her friends and we introduced Andre. Dotty was delighted that he was here to take pictures and she immediately sent him off into the garden to snap pictures of the guests.

I saw Tina Grisby standing alone by a large fountain and I made my excuses to the others as I went to check on her. I hadn’t been able to forget the scene at the shop between her and Geoffrey. I couldn’t help but think that it must be truly awful to be trapped in a marriage to a bully.

Tina’s hat represented Alice. Viv had created a wide-brimmed white sun hat with pretty blue ribbons trailing down the back, which matched her blue dress. The outfit made her appear even younger, and I couldn’t help but wonder if she was happy.

“Hello, Tina,” I said.

She turned away from the fountain and glanced at me. She looked distracted and I noticed it took her a moment to focus on me.

“Scarlett,” she said. She smiled at me. “How good to see you. You look lovely.”

“As do you,” I said. “You make a fine Alice.”

She gave me a rueful glance and it said more than words that the family fallout continued. I knew without asking that Daphne was undoubtedly still in a snit over Tina being Alice.

“How are you?” I asked.

“Fine,” she said. “Just fine.”

“You do realize I don’t believe you, right?” I asked.

This time when she smiled it reached her eyes.

“You caught me,” she said. “Things have been rather stressful.”

I glanced over my shoulder to make sure we were out of earshot of the other guests. “Geoffrey?”

“Oh, I know what you’re thinking,” she said. “He was terrible that day in the shop, but truly, he isn’t always like that.”

I gave her a dubious look, but I understood from her tone that she wasn’t going to discuss it further.

“Well, the party looks amazing,” I said. “Very festive, and it’s quite a full house.”

“I expect Dotty will be well on her way to getting that wing at the hospital,” Tina said. “Each family member is hosting a table. I had them put you and Viv at my table so I could put the squeeze on you.”

I gave her an alarmed look. Tina laughed a bright, musical chuckle, and I smiled at her as I realized she was teasing me.

“Don’t worry,” she said. “I actually had them put you at my table so that Liam and George don’t monopolize you. I heard from Rose and Lily that they were quite taken with the milliners.”

“Well, Liam for certain with Viv,” I said. “I believe George understands that I am too old for him.”

I glanced across the crowd, trying to spot the brothers. I could see several of the hats Viv had made. Lily was the White Rabbit; Daphne, the Dormouse; and, true to her word, Viv had made Rose the Cheshire cat. Their hats stood out among the others with whimsical details like a ticking clock on Lily’s and glittery black fronds fashioned to look like whiskers on Daphne’s and orange-and-yellow-striped feathers on Rose’s. Viv really had done an amazing job.

A bell rang and Tina and I glanced up to see Marilyn Tofts, wearing a puffy white blouse over a purple skirt topped by an ostentatious, glittery purple hat that had deep-purple ostrich plumes launching off of it in all directions. She resembled a musketeer that had been electrocuted as she waved everyone forward into a large white tent that had been erected on the side lawn.