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I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I knew, the desk sergeant was rattling a key in the lock of my cell. “Good morning, my lady,” he said with equal parts cheer and caution. “Come along now. Your bail’s been paid.”
I sat up, yawning. “I didn’t even know it’d been set.”
He hesitated. “Well, let’s just say things have been sorted and you may go, but you’re still under caution and a suspect in the murder of Mrs. Davis.” Although, from the expression on his face, he found the whole thing as daft as I did.
“Sure, sure. Don’t suppose I could visit the cloakroom first?”
He looked confused.
I sighed. “The toilets.”
His expression cleared, although he blushed as he led me down the hall. Once I’d done the necessary and freshened up as best I could in the cloudy mirror above the sink, he guided me through the bullpen to the front. As I passed North’s office, I poked my head in. He sat hunched over a newspaper, cup of tea in hand. “I’m not at all impressed with your hospitality.”
He clutched his heart. “I am gutted. My life’s work is to see you happy.”
“Sarcasm does not become you,” I snapped, and trotted off to ensure I got in the last word. Petty? Me? Surely you jest.
I found Aunt Butty waiting with Varant in the foyer.
“Chaz called me last night,” Aunt Butty said, enfolding me in a hug, crushing me against her ample bosom. “I called Varant immediately. Something must be done about that ghastly North person.”
“He was just doing his job,” I said, though I wouldn’t mind him being taken down a peg. “Thank you, Varant. I don’t know how you managed, but I am grateful.” I didn’t mention the fact that while he’d somehow worked a miracle for me, he hadn’t managed the same with Hale.
He gave an elegant bow. “At my lady’s service. Shall I escort the two of you home?”
While he drove us home, I regaled them with my tale of finding Win, freeing Hale, and my night in jail, including the drunken serenade.
“Good heavens!” Aunt Butty said. “It sounds appalling.”
“It was an experience,” I said. “One I’m very glad to leave in the rearview mirror. Now I just need to find Dottie’s killer so North will be forced to unarrest me, or whatever one does.”
“I don’t think he can unarrest you,” Varant said dryly as we pulled out into early morning traffic. “He will have to dismiss the charges, and I will ensure there is a very public apology.”
I waved it off. Some might worry that being arrested for murder would tarnish one’s reputation, but I knew better. Likely it would only add to my mystique or whatnot. No doubt my invitations to parties and such would double over the next few weeks. At least until the hubbub died down and someone did something equally shocking, like strip off in the House of Lords.
“Do you really think you should be investigating, Ophelia?” my aunt asked. “After all, you are the prime suspect. You don’t want to give North any reason to arrest you again.”
I snorted. “The man is a ninny. If I leave it to him, I’ll end up hanging.”
She paled. “Please, Ophelia. My nerves.”
I laughed. “You have got nerves of steel, Aunt. Now stop this nonsense. We need to find out all we can about Dottie Davis and her life both before and after she married Hale.”
“I will leave the two of you to your investigations,” Varant said as he showed us to my front door. “I’ve got business to attend to.”
“Thanks again for riding to my rescue,” I said lightly, giving him a peck on the cheek before he strode away. But deep inside, I wondered why he’d come to my rescue so easily, yet ignored my request to help Hale? Could Varant somehow be involved in all this?
It was a ridiculous thought, and I brushed it off before it could take root.
––––––––
THE MOMENT I GOT HOME, I left Aunt Butty to her own devices and went straight up to wash off the grime of prison. Once Maddie had drawn my bath and laid out clean clothes, I sent her off to make my aunt a pot of tea and some sandwiches, though I’d no doubt she was already raiding my liquor cabinet despite it being barely gone nine in the morning.
Maddie had added my favorite rose-scented oil to the bath, and I sank into the warm water with a sigh of relief. Now all I needed was a rather substantial glass of whiskey and a magazine, and I’d be set.
Between the warmth and the long night, I’d very nearly dozed off when a banging on the bathroom door startled me awake. “Are you alive in there?”
“Charles Raynott! Don’t you dare open that door, or I shall murder you instantly,” I shouted, flailing slightly in the water before managing to snag a nearby towel.
There was a chuckle. “Very well, but you’d better hurry it along. The coffee is piping hot and Hale brought croissants. Lord knows where he found them, but they’re delicious, and I shall eat them all if you don’t move your backside.”
Hale was here? “Give me fifteen minutes.”
“Five.”
“Very well, ten. And there had better be at least two croissants and half a pot of coffee left, or my roses will have a lovely bit of fertilizer.”
He laughed. Probably because he knew I didn’t have any roses. Well, there was one small rose bush in a pot on the veranda, but it wasn’t exactly the sort of place one could hide a body.
Once I heard his footsteps retreating down the hall, I wrapped myself in a robe and scuttled back to my bedroom. I quickly dressed in the peacock blue merino wool Maddie had selected. I slipped on my black patent Cuban-heeled Oxfords with the cute little bows and added a jet necklace and earrings. After checking to make sure the bath hadn’t frizzed my hair too badly, I patted my face with a bit of powder, swiped on some pale pink lipstick, and decided that was well enough for a woman who’d just escaped the jailor.
Aunt Butty was entertaining the men in my sitting room, and they all greeted me with a cheer. After snagging a croissant from the tray, I sank onto a chair across from Hale and Chaz. Aunt Butty poured me coffee, and I nearly drained the cup in one go. Exhaustion pulled at me, and the beverage was very welcome.
“Ophelia, I’m glad to see you escaped North’s custody none the worse for wear. I’m sorry helping me got you in such a pickle.” Hale’s dark eyes spoke volumes.
I nodded, unable to speak for a moment. It was such a relief to be free and to have him here. I felt a momentary stab of guilt that the reason he was here was because his wife was dead and somebody had murdered her.
Aunt Butty cleared her throat and clapped her hands. “Now, we must get organized.”
“For what?” I asked, nibbling on a croissant slathered in strawberry preserves. Fine, I wasn’t nibbling so much as chomping like a starving race horse.
“We must prove your innocence,” she declared. “We are all on the case. Isn’t that right, boys?”
The two men nodded.
“Of course, we are,” Chaz said, helping himself to more coffee. “Can’t have our Ophelia swinging for a crime she didn’t commit.”
I winced. “Thanks for that image.”
“We’re going to prove it wasn’t you, Ophelia,” Hale said seriously. “I swear it.”
I was relieved that he at least didn’t think I’d done it. I hid my momentary lapse of emotion behind a swallow of coffee.
“Where shall we start?” Aunt Butty asked, dusting croissant crumbs off her bosom.
“I think we need to know more about Dottie,” I said, avoiding Hale’s gaze, uncertain what I would find there. “There had to be someone in her life besides Hale and me who wanted her dead. Not that we wanted her dead, but you know what I mean. Someone with motive.”
“Could have been random,” Chaz mused. “There are killers out that who murder complete strangers.”
“Yes,” Aunt Butty said. “Remember that dreadful Ripper chap? I mean, obviously it can’t be him, but perhaps someone like him.”
“Could have been,” I admitted. “In which case, it will likely never be solved, but I have a feeling this was very personal. The type of weapon. The closeness of the deed. I think whoever killed her knew her.” This time my gaze did slide to Hale’s. It was time for him to tell us what he knew. I would have rather done it privately, but I doubted either Aunt Butty or Chaz would give us a chance.
Aunt Butty tapped her reading glasses on the arm of her chair. “Well, Mr. Davis?”
Hale cleared his throat. “To be honest, I don’t know that much about Dottie.”
Aunt Butty snorted. “You married her.”
He rubbed his scalp. “Yes, well, that was a mistake.”
“I’ll say,” muttered Chaz.
“Please, you two,” I said to Aunt Butty and Chaz. “Let him tell us what happened.”
“As I told Ophelia, I married Dottie immediately upon returning to London. It was only after I found out that not only wasn’t she pregnant, but she never had been. I was... angry.”
“As well you should be,” Aunt Butty said. “How long after you married did you discover her perfidy?”
“Less than a week. I moved out immediately,” he continued. “I thought I could get on with my life, but Dottie kept following me around, trying to get me back. I threatened her with divorce. She threatened to destroy my reputation.” He shook his head. “I didn’t care. I actually met with a lawyer three days before she died. I had grounds and I was going ahead with it.”
Relief flooded me. He’d visited a solicitor. He’d been going to end it with her even before all this. But that didn’t necessarily mean he’d come back to me.
“I suppose then you didn’t learn much about each other during the time you lived together,” Aunt Butty said, tapping her chin with her reading glasses.
He shook his head. “Almost nothing. When I wasn’t home sleeping, I was either practicing with the band or playing at the club.”
“What did she do while you were gone?” Aunt Butty asked.
“No idea,” he admitted. “I assumed she was home, but she could have been anywhere, and I’d never know.”
“Perhaps we need to backpedal,” Chaz suggested, grabbing another croissant from the tray. “Tell us how and where you met her. Her maiden name. Did any of her friends attend the marriage ceremony? Perhaps there’s a clue there.”
Hale leaned back, hands braced behind his head, stretching his lovely, muscled arms beneath his crisp cotton shirt. I remembered how those arms felt around me, but I shook off the memory trying to focus on what he was saying.
“Her maiden name was Lancaster. We met at one of the clubs where I was playing shortly before I met Ophelia. She was working the coat check, and she’d sneak down to listen to the band play. One thing led to another and... well... I realized my mistake almost immediately. She was clingy and demanding and a little unstable. So I broke it off with her. I met you,” he glanced at me, “a week later. I never thought I’d see her again, but somehow she tracked me down in France to tell me she was pregnant.”
“She would have been, what, seven months along? How did you not notice she wasn’t with child?” Aunt Butty demanded, eyes narrowed.
“She did a very good job of pretending,” Hale said dryly. “Made a false stomach from a pillow. Wore maternity clothes. It wasn’t like we were...” His cheeks darkened with embarrassment. “The marriage was unconsummated. I couldn’t bring myself... it was one thing to marry her so our child would have a father. Being a proper husband, well, I hadn’t managed to bring myself around to that yet.”
“Alright, so you met her at a club. Did she still work there after your marriage?” Chaz asked, neatly redirecting the conversation.
Clearly relieved, Hale shook his head. “My understanding, according to her friend, was that she was fired from that job shortly after I broke it off with her. I’ve no idea where or if she’s been working since.”
“You met one of her friends?” I asked. “What’s her name? Do you know how to get hold of her?” Here was the exact clue we were looking for. Someone who knew Dottie. And someone who was obviously not the best of friends since she’d been willing to rat on her. Maybe she could tell us more.
Hale frowned. “I told you about her. Kitty Leonard. I don’t have her address, unfortunately.”
My heart sank. I’d hoped for something new. Although this Kitty person was obviously someone we needed to speak to.
“Why was she willing to tell you the truth about Dottie if they were supposedly such good friends?” Aunt Butty demanded.
Hale grimaced. “Apparently, Kitty had a boyfriend named Arnie. After I left Dottie, before she tracked me down in France, she apparently stole him from Kitty. Kitty wasn’t terribly pleased about that. I guess she wanted payback.”
“Crikey,” I muttered. “I guess so. What a piece of work.” Then I realized that I was talking about his dead wife, and I glanced at him with apology.
He shook his head. “I know. I was stupid.”
“No, you were a gentleman. You were trying to do the right thing,” I said softly.
Chaz cleared his throat. “Seems to me we’ve got two people to talk to. Archie and Kitty.”
“Like I said, I don’t know where Kitty lives, but I do know where we can find Archie.”
It was a step in the right direction. And maybe Archie could lead us to the vengeful Kitty. Vengeance, after all, is an excellent motive for murder.