Murder at the Mikado (17 page)

The two tassels looked identical, except one was tagged
DAVIDSON
and the other
ZURAW
.

Drew frowned. “Notice anything odd about them?”

“Odd?”

Drew nodded. “Imagine you’re in a death struggle with
someone and you grab at that person’s cloak and catch hold of a tassel. You wrench that tassel hard enough to pull it off. It’s not going to have a neatly cut end, is it?”

“Shouldn’t have, no.”

“But look at that one. It looks as if cut with a scissors. As if it were put there to be found. You lot grabbed it up so fast I didn’t have time to think about it much. But if you look at it again, you’ll see what I mean.”

Birdsong examined the one marked Davidson. “This one’s clearly torn, but this one . . .” He touched the one marked Zuraw with the tip of his pencil. “This one was definitely cut. You have a keen eye, Detective Farthering.”

“I shouldn’t wonder, Chief Inspector, if the one on Zuraw wasn’t planted there by someone. Now, what about the cloak itself?”

Birdsong spread it out on the desk, searching for the place where the tassel was missing.

“This is cut, too,” he said once he’d found the place. “But it can’t be the tassel we found at the Zuraw scene. It’s been locked up here.” He looked over the rest of the cloak. “As best I can see, there aren’t any others missing.”

“Then there’s definitely a duplicate cloak, just as we suspected. And some planning in advance. Do we know where this one came from? It doesn’t much look like something Mrs. Landis would wear, if you ask me. Rather bourgeois, don’t you think?”

“It came from Lewis’s,” Birdsong said. “They sell them by the dozen.”

“Mrs. Landis shops at Lewis’s?”

“It was a gift. Seems all right to me.”

“A gift? From whom?”

“From her husband, or so she says. She claims she hated not to wear it, since it was from him and all.”

Drew pressed his lips together. “Landis, eh?”

The chief inspector peered at him. “What are you thinking, Detective Farthering?”

“Nothing that makes me very happy, I’m afraid.”

Birdsong’s dark eyes narrowed. “You think Landis is up to something?”

“I don’t see him as the type, no, but I can’t help wondering all the same.”

“Wondering if he’s involved in all this?”

“Suppose someone is trying to incriminate Mrs. Landis,” Drew said. “If there were to be duplicate cloaks, someone would have to make sure Mrs. Landis had one and wore it often enough for the cloak to be identified with her, right? What better way to do that than to make a sentimental gift of it?”

“But why?” Birdsong asked. “What does it benefit Landis?”

“I haven’t figured that out yet,” Drew admitted. “From all I can tell, he’s perfectly mad about his wife and would be devastated to lose her.”

“It would seem so,” Birdsong said, “but it has been my experience that there’s many a murderer who can give a subtle performance that would put professional actors to shame.”

When Drew returned to Farthering Place, he found the Landis car pulled up to the front door and their chauffeur loading several suitcases into the boot. Miss Winston and Peter were coming down the front steps.

“Miss Winston!” Drew called as he pulled the Rolls up behind the Daimler, and Peter ran up to him.

“Mr. Drew! Mr. Drew! Mummy’s come back from her trip and we’re going home!”

“So I’ve heard.” Drew picked him up and then turned again to the nursemaid. “Leaving us already, Miss Winston?”

“Yes, I’m afraid so, Mr. Farthering. Now that Mrs. Landis is home, Mr. Landis feels we ought not impose upon you any longer.”

“Nonsense. It’s been no imposition in the least. Lovely to have all of you.” Drew tapped the boy’s turned-up nose. “Mr. Chambers hasn’t had so fine a time in ages.”

Peter looked toward the house. “He’ll forget about me, won’t he? He’ll think I left him and didn’t even tell him goodbye.”

“No need to say goodbye, Peter,” Drew said, “because you can come back to see Mr. Chambers again sometime.”

The boy’s expression brightened. “May I, please?”

“Just as often as you like.”

“Can he come see me, too?”

“Well . . .”

“Now, Peter,” Miss Winston broke in, “you know Mummy doesn’t allow us to have animals in the house.”

“But Mr. Chambers lives in Mr. Drew’s house.”

“That’s Mr. Drew’s house and not yours.” Miss Winston reclaimed her charge. “Now tell Mr. Drew goodbye. Daddy and Mummy are waiting for us at home.”

“We’ll miss you, Peter,” Drew said. “You come see us again, all right?”

Peter gave him a brilliant smile, a perfect copy of his mother’s. “You betcha.”

Miss Winston put him into the backseat, and he immediately stood up on it, leaning out the window. “Tell Mr. Chambers I love him and I won’t forget him.”

“Certainly,” Drew told him. “Not to worry.”

“Peter,” Miss Winston scolded, “sit down at once! You know you’re not to stand on the seats.”

Crestfallen, Peter immediately sat.

“I’m certain he didn’t mean any harm,” Drew said out of his hearing.

“Oh, I know,” Miss Winston said. “Poor little lamb, he’s very attached to that cat already. He would so love to have a kitten or a puppy of his own to play with, but his mother won’t allow it.”

“What’s his father say?”

That soft light came again into her eyes. “I think he would like to have a dog. He says he always had one before he married her, and he still speaks fondly of the last one he had. But she won’t hear of him having another. She says she won’t have pet hair on her furniture and clothes, especially on her black dresses.”

“What’s your opinion on the matter?” Drew asked.

“I was raised in an orphans’ home, Mr. Farthering. None of us had pets. I always wished I had one.” She laughed. “Or a dozen. But as you may well imagine, working in other people’s homes, I can never have any of my own.”

“You never know what the future holds,” Drew said. “Perhaps one day you’ll have a home and family and pets of your own.”

“And if the sky falls, we shall all catch larks.” She snorted softly and then hurried to the car. “We ought to be off now. Thank you again, Mr. Farthering.”

She sat down beside Peter, and they both waved goodbye. Madeline came down the front steps just as they disappeared from sight.

“She’s got it bad and how, as they say in the cinema.” Drew shook his head. “Poor thing. How I would hate it if I knew you belonged to someone else.”

“Do you suppose Mr. Landis is in the same boat?” Madeline asked, still watching the empty driveway.

“No, I’d hardly think so. It seems rather obvious to me.”

There was a sudden wariness in her expression. “Because he’s already got Fleur, is that what you mean?”

“Well, darling, there is quite a difference. Poor Miss Winston hardly stands a chance by comparison.”

Her eyes flashed, and he knew he had chosen the wrong words.

“Not that looks are everything,” Drew said, slipping his arm around her. “Of course they aren’t. But he’s married to Mrs. Landis. It wouldn’t exactly be the decent thing to leave her for someone else, no matter how great her character and personality, eh?”

“No, I don’t suppose it would,” Madeline said. “No matter how much I dislike Fleur. We don’t have to see her anymore, do we? I mean, she’s out of jail and bound to be cleared before long. I don’t know why you’d have to be involved in the case now.”

“Well, it isn’t actually solved yet, you know,” he said. “I really ought to—”

“You really ought to concentrate on our wedding now, don’t you think?” Her eyes flashed again, and then her expression softened and she put one hand up to his cheek. “Don’t you think?”

He pulled her close and turned his head so his lips were touching her fingertips. “I do, darling.” He kept his eyes fixed on hers. “As difficult as you make it for me to think at all.”

“Drew,” she breathed, before melting into his arms, her face hidden against his neck. “Are you sure? Are you very, very sure?”

With a soft laugh he kissed her hair. “Sure of what, darling? Sure that I adore you? Sure that I want to marry you and spend the rest of my life learning everything there is to know about you? Sure there’s no one else in the world so perfectly suited to be mistress of Farthering Place? Yes, I’m very, very sure. I’ve no doubt whatsoever.”

She giggled and looked up at him through a glimmer of tears. “Muriel was right about you from the start, you know. You’re definitely a smooth talker, and I’d better keep my eyes open.”

“Good idea, darling. Then you can’t help seeing how much I love you.”

For a fleeting moment she searched his eyes. “I’m glad you don’t have to be involved in this case anymore, Drew.”

“Not with Mrs. Landis’s bit of it, at any rate.” He tapped her pouting lips. “Come along now, love. I’m certain Mrs. Devon must be waiting tea for us.”

T
he following Monday, Drew slipped away from Farthering Place and dropped in at Brent Landis’s office.

“I have a question for you, Landis.” Drew’s voice was light and pleasant as he made himself comfortable in the chair facing Landis’s desk. “That cloak of your wife’s, where did it come from?”

Landis looked rather embarrassed. “From Lewis’s. I bought it for Fleur.”

“I see. Was it for a particular occasion? A birthday or an anniversary?”

“No. I thought it would be nice to give her something for no particular reason.” His face reddened. “Just because I love her. Surely with Miss Parker and all, you understand.”

“Oh, yes, of course. But why that? Did she typically shop at Lewis’s?”

“No, not at all. I was surprised, actually, because she has always been rather particular about where she shops. But I was given to understand that she wanted that cloak especially,
so that’s what I got for her. Good heavens, I never expected it would be part of this whole awful affair.”

“Did Mrs. Landis tell you that was the cloak she wanted?”

“No, in fact. It was just a gift. Fleur had been a bit down around that time, and I wanted to do something to cheer her up. But I couldn’t think of anything she’d mentioned she wanted. The cloak seemed to please her very much, more than I thought it would.”

Drew nodded. “You said you were ‘given to understand’ that she wanted that one. Who gave you that understanding?”

“Miss Winston, actually. We were talking about how difficult it can be at times to choose just the right gift. She said Fleur had had her eye on that particular cloak. I’m not certain why. But if it pleased her, I thought it would be just the thing.”

Drew considered for a moment. “Have you told the police all this?”

“Oh, certainly,” Landis said. “It was one of the first things they asked about before Fleur was released—where I bought the cloak, how long ago and all that.”

“Yes, but did you tell them about your little talk with Miss Winston?”

Landis shook his head. “I suppose it never occurred to me to mention it. I mean, they know Fleur was, well, out of play when that business manager was killed. All they have to do is figure out who bought another cloak like that one. Well, someone involved in the case, rather. I’m certain there are many of the same sort of cloak about.”

“You’re probably right,” Drew said. “Tell me, did Miss Winston and Mrs. Landis discuss fashion as a rule?”

“Not that I ever heard, no. To be frank, I’m not sure Fleur very much likes Miss Winston. I suppose they’re just too
different, the two of them, to get along. Fleur is, well, you’ve seen her, stylish and dramatic and”—his expression turned wistful—“all woman.”

Drew lifted one eyebrow. “And Miss Winston?”

Landis chuckled. “Miss Winston’s a good girl, practical and dependable. She would have made someone a fine wife. Good mother to his children and all that.”

“Would have?”

“Not to say she wouldn’t still, of course,” Landis corrected at once. “Perhaps a nice man who’s lost his wife and who has small children who need looking after. Miss Winston would be just the one for the place, eh? But she doesn’t seem much interested in finding anyone at this point. All work and no play, you know?”

“Why do you suppose that is?”

“Happy just as she is, I guess. Perhaps she’s given up trying to find anyone. Either way, I’m glad to have her with us. She’s a wonder with the boy, and that’s all that matters to me. There aren’t many others I’d trust him to.”

“And he’s definitely quite fond of her, as well,” Drew said. “She must have been a real find.”

“She was, especially with her nursing background. There’s rarely anything we need the doctor for with her around. You know, I sometimes wonder if Fleur isn’t a bit jealous of her. About Peter, I mean. Of course, as much as she loves our boy, Fleur’s never been one to be tied down to home and hearth. She’s always been a social butterfly, and I would certainly never try to confine her.”

“Couldn’t be done,” Drew said as he got to his feet.

Landis stood, too. “Isn’t there anything else you wanted, Mr. Farthering?”

Drew shook his head. “Just a word. Everything settled at home? Now that you’re all together again?”

“Fairly well back to normal, thank you. This has all been a bit distressing, as you may well imagine.”

“No doubt.”

Landis exhaled and gave Drew an unsteady smile. “Just having Fleur back was a great relief. It’s a bit frightening to be at the mercy of the law.”

“True enough.” Drew put on his hat. “But these things are sorted out in time. If not, there is the great Judge who always sees the truth and without any obscurity.”

“I suppose none of this comes as any surprise to Him, eh?”

“Not at all.” Drew gave him a nod. “Well, I’d best let you get back to work. You’ll want to finish up and get home to Mrs. Landis as quickly as possible.”

Landis escorted Drew to the door. “Thank you, I do.”

With a farewell to Miss Stokes, Drew hurried out of the office and down to the Rolls.

“They’ll be back before long, old man,” Drew said a day later. “We really ought to get this all sorted before then.”

Mr. Chambers merely yawned, his spine making a nearly perfect crescent-moon shape as he stretched himself on the lush parlor carpet.

Drew scowled and got down on his hands and knees next to him. “Have you been at all paying attention to what I’ve been saying? How are we possibly going to solve this case if you don’t pay attention to all the clues?”

The kitten blinked unrepentantly and reached over to play with Drew’s silver cuff link. With a chuckle, Drew stretched
out on the floor beside him, tickling the tip of his tail to make him turn over.

“Now pay attention, and we’ll start at the beginning once more. When Ravenswood was killed—”

Denny cleared his throat, and Drew looked up, a guilty warmth seeping into his face.

“Are you at home to Mrs. Landis, sir?” the butler asked, his disapproval faint but unmistakable.

Drew shook his head, frowning, but she was already in the room, pushing past Denny.

“Drew, please.”

He scrambled to his feet, the heat in his face intensifying. “Really, Mrs. Landis, I would rather not—”

“Drew.” She held up her hands, pleading. “Just a moment. Just give me a moment. It’s desperately important.” Tears stood in her impossibly black eyes.

Drew looked at Denny. “We haven’t heard from that, uh, party we’re expecting, have we?” The last thing he needed was for Madeline and Aunt Ruth to come home to find him alone with Fleur Hargreaves.

Denny’s expression remained suitably grave. “No, sir, though it should not be long before they arrive.”

“All right, Denny. That will be all.”

“Shall I have tea served, sir?”

Drew glanced at Fleur as she stood there trembling and then back at Denny. “No. We’ll be only a moment, I’m certain.”

“Very good, sir.” With a bow, Denny disappeared.

Fleur moved closer to Drew, taking his sleeve in both hands. “Thank God. Please, Drew. Hear me out.”

“I thought we had an agreement,” he said, his voice cold.
“Anything you need me to know, you can ask your husband to tell me.”

“Not this, Drew. I need your help. Someone is trying to kill me, and poor little Peter . . .” She caught a hard, choking breath and collapsed against him.

“What about Peter?” He took hold of her arms. “Fleur, what about Peter?”

She froze, eyes wide, and he released her. She managed a ghost of a smile. “Brent sent me chocolates—he does spoil me so—and I didn’t think anything of it. Why should I? I was just so happy to be out of that horrid prison, I thought everything was all back to normal and this was over. Anyway, I’ve been trying to reduce a bit, so I didn’t eat any of them right away. I just left them in the little sitting room I use to write my letters and such. Peter knows he’s not to go into that room. I’ve told him at least a hundred times, but he went in anyway. He went straight to that candy and ate some of it. And then . . . Oh, Drew.”

She clung to him, weeping openly now, and a sickening fear twisted into him. He shook her harder than he meant to, forcing her to look up at him.

“What happened to Peter?”

“It was so horrible. He couldn’t breathe and he turned so frightfully pink. Nurse snatched him up at once, thank God, along with the chocolates, and made Brent drive them to Dr. Klarner’s.”

“Is he all right? What happened?”

“Drew, it was cyanide! The candy was full of it.”

“Peter—”

“He’s going to be all right,” she quickly added. “If Nurse hadn’t caught him eating the piece he had, and if she hadn’t
been there to recognize the symptoms, I don’t know what would have happened. But, Drew, how would she know . . . and so certainly? I mean, who thinks of cyanide poisoning right off? And if she hadn’t known at once, Peter would have died.”

“Have you told the police this?”

She put one trembling hand over her mouth. “Yes, I spoke with them, but I couldn’t tell them everything. I couldn’t tell them . . .” She shrank against him again. “Oh, I don’t even want to say it, it’s so horrible.”

“Say what?”

“That . . . that it was Brent who sent me those chocolates. He always does, you know, and he admits he sent them this time. You don’t think he could have possibly . . . ?” She hid her face against Drew’s shoulder. “No, no, no . . .”

“He could have what?” Drew asked, prying her away from him. “What are you saying?”

She looked up at him, trembling and fragile in his hands, and he felt all sorts of a cad for wanting to shake her again.

“What are you saying?” he demanded. “You don’t think your husband poisoned those chocolates, do you?”

“No, he couldn’t have. He wouldn’t have! Why would he do such a thing?”

“You tell me,” Drew said warily.

“There is no reason,” she said, her red lips quivering. “No reason. I’m just . . . my nerves are on edge, that’s all. Yes, that’s all.”

“Well,
someone
poisoned those chocolates,” Drew said. “If it wasn’t your husband, who was it? Who do you think would want to kill you?”

“Oh, I don’t know. No one now.”

“Now?”

“Well, you know Johnnie’s wife would have. I mean, if she had ever taken the time to plan it out.”

Drew studied her face. “Would she? Why?”

She shrugged. “Well, Johnnie and I, obviously.”

“I thought you said that was over years ago.”

“It was. I swear it was, but she was always suspicious even if she does go on about not caring what he did. And she didn’t much like me still being around the theater. Helping with the production and all. I still can’t help wondering if she wasn’t the one who killed him after all, and she just needed someone to blame.”

Drew shook his head. “She was already at home. She phoned the theater right before the body was found.”

“She could have made that call from anywhere.” Fleur pouted. “All right, fine. Maybe she isn’t the one. Or maybe she had someone else kill her husband for her. That Conor Benton would be just the type.”

“It couldn’t have been Benton, either. You know that.”

“If he thinks I killed Tess, he might want to kill me, no matter who might have killed Johnnie.”

“I suppose so. Doesn’t seem the way he’d go about it, though. How would he know about the chocolates if your husband had them sent directly from the shop? He hasn’t been anywhere near your home, has he?”

“Not that I know of.” Fleur pouted again. “Well then, I don’t know. But someone is trying to kill me. Now that Johnnie is gone, I don’t know who it would be or why. Maybe it’s someone the police haven’t even considered. But, please, Drew, you have to find out. You have to stop whoever it is.”

“All right,” he said, leading her toward the door. “I’m doing my best as it is.” He stopped at the threshold, his face as stern as he could make it. “For your husband’s sake and the boy’s, do you understand?”

She nodded, a touch of hurt in her eyes, and she let him escort her out to her car.

“I do appreciate it, Drew. Truly.” She gave him a winsome smile as she got behind the wheel. “I know you’re not exactly fond of me anymore, so it means a great deal to me that you would still be willing to help.”

He shrugged, once more feeling rather a cad. “If you’re innocent, Mrs. Landis, then it is only right that we should find out who is behind all this. I know your husband and your son would hate to be without you.”

She reached out of the car window to clutch his hand, but he moved away.

“Please believe me, Drew. I am not the girl who treated you so abominably six years ago. I wish there was something I could do to make amends.”

“All that is over. I want nothing more than to never think of it again.”

She had the grace to look embarrassed. “I’m sorry. Of course you wouldn’t want to go over all that anymore. But I
am
grateful to you.”

“Fair enough. Now, please, you ought to go. If there’s anything else you think I need to know, please be kind enough to send the message through your husband.”

“All right. I was just so scared by this thing with the chocolates.”