Murder of the Mysterious Maid Read online

  “Everyone in the house was accounted for at the time of the murder except for Karl Dennis. No one saw him and the housekeeper assumed he was in his room writing letters, though she couldn’t prove it.”

  The detective ran a hand through his hair. “It took my constables three days to work that out. You figured all that from a single visit?”

  A corner of my mouth crooked up. “As I said, being a woman was helpful. Other women are more likely to share secrets with someone in their sphere, like another woman.”

  “All right, I’ll admit that you have done some very fine detecting.” Cal held out a hand of apology and I shook it, grinning.

  “Thank you.” We turned and continued down the path, more amiable than when we’d started. “What will you investigate next?”

  He eyed me suspiciously.

  I sighed. “I’m not going to run ahead of you and steal your leads, Mr. Lloyd. I only got involved in the first place so that you and Father would understand that I can share in the discussions of your investigations.”

  “Is that the reason?” He doubted my word.

  Considering that I had also investigated on my own because I was curious, he was right to doubt me. I had to admit that Cal Lloyd was a better detective than I had first suspected. He was certainly a good judge of character.

  He sighed, scratched his forehead with his thumb, and said, “We’re trying to link Karl Dennis and Flora Dobson. My men are interviewing people who knew them both to find any connection they might have. We’re waiting for a return telegram from Miss Dobson’s former employer, a Mrs. Shannon.”

  I felt sheepish. “You won’t get much from her.”

  Cal’s eyes grew wide and he cocked his head at me as though he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear what I had to say.

  I shrugged, unable to think of a good reason to keep quiet. “My friend Will Edwards knows a telephone operator who connected us to Mrs. Shannon. She’d never heard of Flora Dobson and didn’t write the letter of reference. In fact, she’s had the same maid for several years.”

  His jaw tensed as he processed the depth of my involvement. Finally, Cal gave me a sideways look and said, “You just wanted to be a part of the conversation, eh?”

  My smile was impish. “What else will you do to investigate?”

  Chapter Eight

  My walk with Cal didn’t change everything immediately. Father was still wont to cut me out of conversations around the dining room table. His protege was reluctant to include me, but he did make an effort, which I appreciated immensely. Considering that Cal came to supper twice in the four days after the concert, there were plenty of opportunities for him to practice.

  “What progress have you made on the Dennis case?” Father asked during supper on that Tuesday evening.

  Cal wiped his lips with his napkin and cleared his throat. After throwing me a quick glance, he said, “We received the response from Mrs. Shannon and she didn’t recommend Miss Dobson to the Dennises. In fact, she’d never heard of the girl.”

  I nodded and preened, glad to have my investigation confirmed. Will had, unfortunately, been stuck at the office and hadn’t been able to get away. Even spending a pleasant afternoon with Paula Dennis having tea had afforded no new information. Perhaps boredom was to blame, but I was itching to work on the case. However, I couldn’t justify investigating more on my own simply to satisfy my curiosity. And, there was something about Cal being concerned for my safety that kept me from knocking on boarding house doors in search of Flora’s last place of residence.

  “We’ve spoken with a number of Karl Dennis’ friends, but no one knows anything of a relationship between him and a housemaid.” Cal sighed.

  “Is it likely that his friends would know or even be willing to admit it if they did?” I wondered.

  Father spluttered. I could feel his resistance to my joining in the discussion of police matters and instantly drew on my armor, ready for a battle.

  My eyebrow rose in challenge and I was grateful when Cal asked me, “What do you mean, Miss Lunceford?”

  “If a gentleman had a secret romance with a maid, it’s unlikely that he would tell his general acquaintance. He might brag about a single tryst, but if it was ongoing, he might be reluctant to say anything, particularly if he cared for the girl. ” I jabbed my fork in the air to make my point.

  “What do you know about gentlemen and their trysts?” Father blustered, embarrassed on my behalf.

  Cal and I both ignored him.

  “That’s an interesting point,” the young detective mused. “We know that Miss Dobson was meeting someone in the laundry room fairly regularly. It’s an odd place for a romantic rendezvous.”

  I nodded, grateful beyond words not to be shushed. “If Karl Dennis was writing her love letters, the laundry room wouldn’t be the place that he would meet to give them to her. Why wouldn’t she simply go to his bedroom? If she went in with a tray or a bucket, no one would question her being there. I would imagine that having a love affair with a servant would make it much easier to find opportunities to meet. A big house like that would have many places for clandestine meetings. The laundry room, however, would be unlikely.”

  “That’s a fair point. Besides, Karl could have hidden a love letter anywhere in the house. It would have been strange if he’d been caught anywhere near the kitchen,” Cal nodded slowly as he considered. “In fact, it doesn’t fit that she was meeting someone from the house in the laundry room.”

  “It could have been a gardener or someone from the stable,” I suggested, even though I knew that it was impossible. There was something about checking each person off our mental suspect list that my brain pushed me to do.

  “Yet, we know that they were eating supper during the time that she was there.”

  I toyed with the stem of my wine glass. Had we just ruled out the possibility of someone in the house killing Flora Dobson? If it wasn’t Karl Dennis, then who was the killer?

  “Of course, simply because it is unlikely doesn’t mean that it is impossible,” Father interjected.

  Cal and I both blinked at him. I’d forgotten he was listening. Perhaps I was more like him than I cared to admit.

  “If he wanted to kill her, the young man might have lured her there.” My father ran a hand over his mustache and sat back in his chair.

  “Karl would have known that the laundry room would be empty at that time of day and that the noise from the servant’s hall would drown out killing her.” Cal spoke as though he was thinking aloud, sharing his thoughts as he discovered them.

  “We can’t rule him out yet,” I sighed.

  It was by far the most amiable evening I’d spent in my father’s house. When Cal took his leave, I found myself smiling at him as I would an old friend. His expression showed that he found our new friendship as unexpected and welcome as I did. Father retired to his books and I allowed Nellie, the girl who was attempting to serve as my lady’s maid, to help me undress and ready for bed. I tried to read my novel, but thoughts of Cal’s handsome face kept drawing my mind from the words on the page. For the first time, I wasn’t unduly upset by this distraction. Perhaps he wasn’t so vile after all.

  ***

  Will finally came to visit the following afternoon. I’d been planning to go for a walk since I expected no visitors when Harrison knocked on my door.

  I was very pleased to see my friend. I’d felt his absence keenly and was eager for the diversion that he always provided. Yet, on this day, he wasn’t the sunny, wry fellow that I’d come to know.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked as I led the way to the back veranda.

  “Have you not seen your father today?” He asked cryptically.

  I reared back, confusion all over my face. “My father? No, I haven’t seen him since breakfast. What on earth has happened, Will?”

  He lowered himself onto the wicker seat across from me, elbows on his knees. “There was an attempted burglary at our house last night.”

  My han
d flew to my throat. “Were you home when it happened?” I gasped, thinking of Flora Dobson.

  “No, we were at supper across town.” He shook his head. “Mother wasn’t feeling well and the company was dull, so we came home earlier than we’d planned. We don’t keep any servants anymore. Our cook comes in and then goes home again. It’s the same for the housemaid and the laundress.”

  His ears were slightly pink at this admission. It was one more sign of his family’s reversal of fortune.

  “So there was no one home,” I prompted, making sure that my expression did nothing to embarrass him.

  “That’s right.” He smiled at me gratefully and went on, “However, I saw a light moving upstairs when we arrived. Father went next door and telephoned the police while I waited outside with Mother. I would have gone in, but I didn’t want to leave her alone.”

  I somehow doubted this, though I appreciated that Will believed himself to be heroic. He didn’t strike me as the sort of man to go running willingly into a dangerous situation. Perhaps it was his long legs that made me imagine him hurrying next door to summon help.

  “The police arrived and caught the man. They took him right past me. He was short and stocky, not what I expected a thief to be at all.” He laughed shakily at himself.

  “What were you imagining?” I asked, giggling. “Someone tall and thin who could nimbly crawl through windows?”

  He grinned and leaned back in his seat, the tension draining from him. “Of course. This fellow was, at least, swarthy, so he’d blend into the shadows better. Though, his big ears would keep him from hiding behind very narrow pillars and such.”

  We both found this idea amusing and it took us awhile to grow serious again.

  “I wonder if he was a part of the gang that has been causing so much trouble of late. Father and Mr. Lloyd have mentioned them several times. Catching one of the thieves would be tremendously helpful to solving the case.” Now that I was permitted to participate in the discussion, I felt invested in the results of the string of robberies. It would be wonderful for both Father and Cal to solve this particular problem.

  “I’m supposed to drop by the police station to give a statement. Would you like to come along? We might discover some new clues about the Dobson investigation.” Will knew me too well already. He’d made an offer I couldn’t resist.

  We walked to the station, enjoying the summer weather. Will entertained me with stories of the people we passed and his boyhood antics which had taken place in every part of Brinkman. He’d thrown eggs at this particular house, fallen out of that tree, dared a friend to walk this fence, and caused general mischief just about everywhere we went.

  There wasn’t a hiding place he didn’t know. He knew which cooks would give a freshly baked cookie to a hungry child and which were more likely to shoo children off the porch while brandishing wooden spoons. He even knew which houses had windows that didn’t latch and whose doors were always unlocked.

  His stories put us both in high spirits by the time we arrived at the station. I hadn’t entered this building since I was a little girl and the memories I’d made were no longer accurate. Brinkman wasn’t a large city and its police headquarters was similarly sized. It wasn’t the looming fortress I remembered. In fact, it was clean, plain, and full of noise. There were no leering criminals or cages full of apprehended villains as I’d always imagined. Nor were the policemen ten feet tall. My girlhood memories were obviously liberally laced with imagination.

  I strode to the front desk, feigning confidence. I was uncertain whether or not Father would be glad to know I was at his place of work. The uniformed man behind the desk looked me up and down and raised an eyebrow. I felt sure that he thought me a young girl pretending to be older than she was and I was instantly put on my guard.

  “My name is Rose Lunceford. This is Fitzwilliam Edwards. His family was burglarized last evening and he was asked to come to the station today to make a statement.” I stood as tall as I could manage and tried to imitate my grandmother’s supercilious tone of voice as I spoke. Since my height was hardly an inch over five feet, I hoped that I was more successful with the latter goal than the former.

  “You said your name is Lunceford?” the man asked. “Is your father the chief?”

  “He is,” I replied brusquely, trying to make this man take me seriously. “Is my father the one in charge of the Edwards case? Somehow I can’t picture him taking statements.”

  The policeman rocked back on his heels and smiled indulgently at me. “No, miss, he don’t do that. I’ll have to find out which officer is assigned to this particular case.”

  When he proceeded to stand smiling at me, I raised one eyebrow and rallied the words that I was sure would spurn him into action. However, the man was saved my scathing retort when Cal Lloyd spotted us from across the room and hurried over.

  “Miss Lunceford, are you here to see your father?” he asked, taking my elbow and leading me away from the front desk. “I’ll take it from here, Floyd.” He nodded at the policeman with whom we’d been speaking. To my great annoyance, Floyd winked at Cal as though the two were in on a secret.

  “No, I’m not here to see Father. This is Will Edwards and he was asked to come in today to make a statement about the burglary at his family’s house. That ape behind the desk seemed incapable of understanding precisely whom we needed to see.” I was quivering with annoyance and shot the man a dark look over my shoulder.

  He waved merrily and winked at me.

  Cal coughed into his hand, I’m very sure, to cover a laugh. “I’m sorry about Floyd. We don’t get many… well, pretty young ladies here and I doubt he knows what to do when across from one.”

  Cal thought I was pretty? It so took me off guard that my annoyance fell away like crumbs brushed off a tablecloth. I felt my cheeks growing warm and I turned to look up at Will who was regarding me carefully.

  “Will, do you know Mr. Lloyd? He’s one of Father’s top detectives.” I hoped my voice sounded less squeaky than I feared it actually was as I made the introduction.

  Will and Cal shook hands and exchanged the sort of manly greeting that I would never hope to understand, full of gripping hands forcibly and measuring each other with some mysterious ruler. Then Cal showed us into a side room with a table surrounded by mismatched chairs. Will held my chair for me as I sat and I arranged my skirts feeling a tad unsettled by his sudden show of good manners.

  Cal listened carefully as Will recounted the events of the previous evening. He asked questions when needed and scribbled on a pad of paper as Will talked. I was taken with Cal’s neat, square letters and long fingers. For a man who was employed in such a rigorous job, he was very careful. It was more than his handwriting, I realized. It was his well-pressed suits, neatly trimmed mustache, and his habit of watching everything as though he was taking in every detail that truly made him give the impression of precision.

  “Thank you, Mr. Edwards, for coming in today. I believe that we’re on our way to stopping this gang of thieves. It was extremely helpful to catch one of them last night at your house.” Cal pushed his chair back and got to his feet. He and Will shook hands and then he held the door for me and began to walk us toward the front door.

  “So, you believe that this man is part of a gang?” I asked, curiosity growing.

  “Yes,” Cal nodded. His eye twinkled at me, not missing my growing curiosity.

  He opened his mouth to say more, but two uniformed men walked past, leading a man in restraints. The prisoner was dark, short and stocky, and had big ears.

  “That’s him,” Will hissed.

  I narrowed my eyes at the man who turned to look our way for the briefest of moments, trying to memorize him. He was exactly what I’d expected, complete with a jagged scar running down his cheek. I didn’t want to imagine the painful circumstances that would leave a man with a scar like that one. He certainly had the air of a criminal. Meeting a fellow like that in a dark alley would make me turn and run in
the opposite direction.

  “He’s on his way to court,” Cal explained as the trio moved toward a side door. “Habeas corpus, you know.”

  “Well, Rose, let’s be on our way,” Will reached for my elbow.

  “Oh, yes,” I blinked at him. “We shouldn’t take any more of your time, Mr. Lloyd.”

  Cal’s smile was very warm. “It was a nice interruption. Far better than dealing with more paperwork, I assure you.”

  We said our good byes and I allowed Will to lead me toward the door. Just before we walked out of it, I glanced over my shoulder. It was very satisfying to see Cal standing there, still watching us. I tossed him a friendly smile and then we stepped out into the sunshine.

  “So, that was the famous Calvin Lloyd,” Will said in mock admiration as we strolled down the sidewalk. “I’ve heard so much about him and never met the man before.”

  “What have you heard?” I tried to sound playful, but my curiosity pressed in a bit too much to pull it off.

  Will evaluated me for a minute and I’m sorry to say that I blushed. I looked away, hoping he hadn’t noticed or else attributed my high color to the warm summer day.

  “Of course, I’ve heard about him from you,” Will said, pretending to be serious. “You’ve informed me on several occasions that he’s terribly annoying and condescending. You forgot to mention good looking.”

  I swatted at his arm.

  He grinned unapologetically at me and then shoved his hands in his pockets and grew more serious. “Lloyd’s got a sad story, though. Do you know it? No? I’m surprised. Let’s see, he married young. And I believe he’d just been made detective when his wife died in childbirth.”

  My stomach turned to stone. “That’s terrible,” I said. “What happened to the child?”

  “That’s what makes it even more tragic. The child was stillborn.”

  A sudden wave of compassion for Cal swept over me. That poor man. He’d lost both his wife and his child in one fell swoop. No wonder he and Father had grown so close; they both had been widowed when they were young men.