Mrs. Jeffries and the One Who Got Away (28 page)

“It must have been quite a detailed note.” Witherspoon laughed. “They knew that dear Mrs. Crookshank had saved my life.”

“That's really all I wrote,” Jon said quickly. “Just that there'd been trouble and Mrs. Crookshank and her gun had kept you from being shot by that crazy woman.”

“Tell us what happened, Gerald.” Ruth patted his arm. “I got here just as Jon's note arrived, and once I knew you'd been in danger, I couldn't leave until I saw you with my own eyes.”

“Now, now, my dear, I'm fine. But I will admit, it's been a very trying day,” he replied. “The maid at the lodging house, Carrie Durridge, is really Karlotta Christopher, Carl Christopher's sister.”

“She's the one who murdered Edith Durant,” Mrs. Goodge exclaimed.

“She was. She admitted it to Luty and me when she had us in the crypt. But I get ahead of myself. I went with Inspector Rogers and his constables when they searched the tenants' rooms, and they found evidence linking Gordon Redley and John Erskine to the burglaries. They're both under arrest.” He told them about the note he'd received from Carrie Durridge. “I went along with the lad to the main gate of the West Cemetery at Highgate and he led me deep inside the grounds. Finally, just as I was going to ask him if this was some sort of odd joke, I saw her. She gave the lad a shilling and he left. I turned my head for a moment, and when I turned back to her, she was pointing a gun at me. She insisted that I come with her and she led me to the Christopher crypt.”

“Why there, sir?” Mrs. Jeffries asked.

“That's where Carl Christopher would have been laid to rest if he'd not been hung,” Luty interjected. “Leastways, that's what she said. Mind you, I think the woman was just crazy as a coot and wantin' to shoot someone.”

“But how did she know where Edith Durant was?” Hatchet asked.

“She's been tracking her for years without much success and then saw her at King's Cross Station.” Witherspoon told them everything that had transpired in the crypt. “Then, just when I was sure I was going to meet my Maker, Mrs. Crookshank came to my rescue.” He smiled at her. “That was an incredible shot. You're an amazing marksman.”

Luty chuckled. “I've had a lot of practice.”

Hatchet snorted but held his tongue.

Witherspoon smiled faintly and angled his head to one side as he studied the elderly American. “Between the burglars being arrested and my attempted murder, there was so much confusion at the station that I don't recall anyone asking why you had a gun with you.”

“That was my fault, sir,” Jon interjected. “I kept begging Mrs. Crookshank to show me how to fire it. She's sending me to college in America next year, and from what I understand, everyone there can shoot. I nagged her into letting me see how it works. We were on our way out to the country so she could show me when we saw you and that lad going into Highgate.”

Luty gave him a grateful smile. “I tried to tell Jon that he's not goin' to the Wild West for his schoolin', but he reads all them lurid novels and thinks everyone carries a six-shooter.”

“You've had a very trying day, Gerald.” Ruth ran her hand along his arm. “Why don't you walk me home and stay for dinner?”

“That would be lovely, Ruth,” he replied.

A few minutes later, they were bundled in their coats. Ruth looked over her shoulder and nodded at Mrs. Jeffries as they left—her signal that she expected them to tell her any details she'd missed.

Luty looked at Jon. “That was fast thinkin', Jon, thank ya.”

“I didn't want you to get into trouble,” he admitted. “People don't understand that when Hatchet's not with you, you feel safer with your peacemaker.”

“You're a good lad, Jon. Can you do me another favor? McGregor's out front with the carriage, but he's not had a break all day. There's a nice pub around the corner, so why don't the two of you go git yourself a quick one while I finish up here. Hatchet and I'll meet you at the carriage in a half hour or so.”

“Thanks, madam.” Jon grinned broadly, waved a quick good-bye, and raced for the door.

“He's afraid you'll change your mind,” Hatchet said dryly. “Madam doesn't normally send the lad off to drink.”

“After what he's been through today, he deserves one.” She turned to Mrs. Jeffries. “Do you understand what in tarnation went on today? I know that Carrie Durridge was actually Karlotta Christopher, and she told me herself about how she pulled off her tricks and the actual killing, but I'm still confused about a few things.”

“We all are,” Smythe muttered.

“Mrs. Jeffries had already figured out Carrie was Karlotta,” Mrs. Goodge said, “but she didn't reckon on the crazy woman trying to kill the inspector today.”

“No, and if Luty hadn't been there with her gun, my stupidity would have cost the inspector his life.”

“But he ain't dead,” Luty said firmly. “Now, come on, tell us how you figured it out.”

“There were two items that bothered me.” She took a sip of tea. “One, there was no logical reason for Andrew Morecomb to have lured Edith all the way to Highgate just to kill her. He was a cold, pragmatic criminal who wouldn't have bothered with such a staged situation. Secondly, the newspaper clipping was planted in her hand for a reason, and last night I realized the reason wasn't just so the body could be identified quickly. The clipping was planted as a way to lure Inspector Witherspoon into the case.”

“You were right about that,” Luty agreed. “The inspector hedged just a bit when he was tellin' what happened in the crypt. Karlotta Christopher held him as responsible for her brother's death as she did Edith Durant.”

“I couldn't sleep last night. I kept thinking about who it could possibly be if it wasn't Morecomb. Then I remembered what Annie Linden had told Phyllis: that a woman had jostled her arm, spilled her drink, and then given Annie a bottle of gin to make up for it. It was that very night that Annie slept so hard she didn't hear the bell ringing, and the same thing happened the next night. Annie ended up getting sacked and Carrie Durridge got her job.”

“Was there something in the gin?” Hatchet asked.

“I think so,” Mrs. Jeffries said. “A bit of laudanum or some other opiate combined with gin would certainly do the trick.”

“And Annie claimed she'd never slept as hard before,” Phyllis said. “She also had a terrible headache when she woke up.”

“Was that your only reason?” Luty pressed. “Just because Annie Linden got her arm jostled you were able to suss out who the killer was?”

“It wasn't just that,” Mrs. Jeffries said. “Edith Durant claimed someone was spying on her, yet her neighbor wasn't home. But she had it in her mind that the spy was a woman because it was Mrs. Travers she accused. So I asked myself, what other woman could it possibly be? When Phyllis said that Annie had seen the woman from the pub going into a hotel on the Edgware Road wearing a fancy cloak over a maid's uniform, I just knew it was her.”

“You're right about that, too.” Luty gave a quick nod of her head. “Carrie Durridge lived there. They found her room key in her cloak pocket and the inspector sent Constable Jones over to search the place. I imagine he'll find more evidence there.”

“You mean, like the rent money she stole,” Phyllis suggested.

“Probably.” Luty yawned.

“Madam, we need to get you home.” Hatchet started to get up, but she waved him back to his seat.

“Not yet. I still want to understand a few things about how she pulled it off.” She looked at Mrs. Jeffries. “From what I can piece together, Karlotta Christopher had been tracking Edith Durant ever since her brother was hung.”

“Yes. From what we know, she simply walked out of her flat and was never seen again,” Mrs. Jeffries agreed.

“So she spots Edith at King's Cross, follows her home, and decides to make her life miserable for a few months until it's time to kill her,” Luty said.

“She must have been the woman who was in the neighborhood asking questions about Edith,” Mrs. Goodge added. “That's how she found out about the household and the servants goin' to the pub in the evenings.”

“After that, it was easy to doctor a bottle of gin and feed it to some unsuspecting young woman so she could get her job.” Mrs. Jeffries nodded in satisfaction.

“Then she started playing tricks on Edith,” Phyllis said.

“And gettin' a bit of lolly along the way.” Smythe laughed. “She took the rent envelopes and stole from the tenants to get Edith in trouble.”

“Cor blimey.” Wiggins made a face. “But she was Carl's sister. How could Edith Durant not recognize her? She must 'ave seen her at 'er brother's wedding.”

“Carl Christopher didn't marry Edith,” Mrs. Jeffries reminded them. “He married her twin, Hilda. We don't know that Edith even attended the nuptials. Even back then, she was the black sheep of the family.”

“Karlotta said she'd never met Edith,” Luty said. “She was living in Italy when he married into the family, and once Edith entered the picture, she made sure he kept his family away.”

“Back to the murder.” Phyllis desperately wanted to understand the sequence of events. “The night before it happened, Edith caught Carrie/Karlotta snooping in her bedroom, right?”

“That's what she said at the station,” Luty confirmed. “Edith told her to get out and not come back. Karlotta went up to the box room and got her carpetbag. Then she went downstairs to the foyer and got one of the rent envelopes and wrote Edith a note telling her to meet her at Highgate Cemetery or she'd go to the police. Edith did as she was told. Karlotta wrapped a cord around her neck, killed her, and tucked the clipping into her hand. Then she slipped back into the lodging house and pretended she'd been cleaning up the box room all along.”

“What did the red cord mean?” Phyllis asked.

“I don't know,” Luty admitted. “Maybe the inspector will be able to find that out, but it's got to mean something.” She yawned again, and this time she didn't protest when Hatchet insisted on taking her home.

*   *   *

But it wasn't until the next day that they found out why Karlotta Christopher had used the red cord as a murder weapon.

“Her brother had been hanged,” Witherspoon explained to Mrs. Jeffries over a glass of sherry, “and Karlotta wanted to make sure that Edith suffered the way her brother had, so she used the red cord from the curtains in her room at the Edgware Hotel and squeezed the life out of her.”

“The same way the life had been squeezed out of her brother by the hangman's noose. But why didn't she just use a gun?” Mrs. Jeffries murmured. “Surely that would have been more practical. We know she had one—she used it to threaten you and Luty.”

“Because she wanted more than vengeance. She wanted Edith Durant to suffer. Also, she didn't have it then.” He shrugged. “She stole that one from Andrew Morecomb. Took it out of his bag when he went out to flag down a hansom cab. By the way, they caught him at Dover. He's been arrested as well.”

“How do you feel, sir? You finally caught the one who got away.” She watched him carefully as she asked the question.

He thought for a moment. “I'm not certain,” he admitted. “I'm hoping that once it settles down in my mind, I'll have some sense that the case is finally closed.”

“You closed more than the old case, sir,” she reminded him. “You also closed her murder case and caught a ring of thieves.”

“Inspector Rogers is being credited with solving the burglary cases.” He smiled. “He didn't want to, but it's only proper, as he and his lads did most of the work.”

“What will they do with her, sir?” Mrs. Jeffries took another sip.

“I don't think she'll be hung,” he replied. “I'm not a medical man but I do believe that woman is out of her mind. She's not responsible for her actions. I expect she'll spend the rest of her life in prison.”

“But she tried to kill you, sir,” Mrs. Jeffries protested. “She knew exactly what she was doing when she lured you to that terrible crypt. She must be punished.”

Witherspoon smiled sadly. “She may have known what she was doing, but I don't think she was capable of stopping herself. Since her brother died, she's spent every moment of her life wanting vengeance. That's a miserable way to live. Isn't that punishment enough?”

Mrs. Jeffries started to argue the point but then thought better of it. She was quiet for a moment, and finally she said, “Inspector Gerald Witherspoon, you have an incredibly generous heart and soul.”

He looked at her and laughed.