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“Maddie, remind me to give you a pay raise,” I said as she set the tea service in front of me.
“Yes, my lady. I’ll write it in lipstick on your mirror.” She had a sparkle in her eye as she stepped out the door.
As well she should. It had been Maddie who’d seen Archie take me, and Maddie who’d rung Chaz and Hale immediately. Chaz had rung Aunt Butty, who’d rung Varant, who’d told her where I was being held before ringing the police. Then Hale and Chaz had joined the police on their raid. It had all been very exciting.
After assuring me he’d stop by later, North had let the two men take me home where I’d washed off the reek of beer and changed into fresh clothes. Aunt Butty had met us there and the three of them were already deep in the liquor cabinet.
Aunt Butty whipped out a flask and dumped its entire contents into the teapot. “Medicinal.”
“Of course,” I murmured, enjoying the flavor of heavily doctored tea. “I assume North arrested Archie.”
“Of course,” Chaz said, sitting next to Aunt Butty. “Although he did admit he isn’t sure why Archie should only be arrested for Kitty’s murder.”
Just then the doorbell rang, and Maddie’s footsteps clacked along the front hall. There was a murmur of voices, more footsteps, and then North appeared in the doorway, hat in hand.
“My lady, I was just stopping by to check that you’d survived your little adventure.” Was it me, or was there a hint of snark in his tone?
Aunt Butty snorted. “Of course she did. She’s made of sterner stuff than that, Detective.” I noted she left off the “chief inspector” portion of his title. “Now sit and have some tea. Ophelia was about to tell us why Archie should only be arrested for Kitty’s murder and not the other two deaths.”
“Was she now?” he muttered, taking a seat as ordered.
“Well, Archie only killed Kitty, obviously,” I said, earning myself a glare from North.
“Then who killed Dottie and Harry?” Hale took his place beside me. “Were we right about Jones?”
“Afraid not. Kitty killed them,” I said, taking another swallow of tea flavored whiskey.
“What?” North sputtered.
“Perhaps you should explain,” Aunt Butty said.
“Right, well, according to the documents I found in Derby Jones’s office—”
“Which you broke in to,” North interrupted.
Chaz shoved a cup of tea and a plate of biscuits at him. Probably to try and shut him up. This was my moment in the sun, after all.
“Yes, well, be that as it may, Kitty used to work for him. And I think there may have been more going on than that as she was just Jones’s type. In any case, when Dottie stole first Archie and then Derby—or at least his business—Kitty was furious. She immediately began to plot her revenge.
“The night of the murder, she sent Dottie a message. Dottie thought it was from Derby and that he was finally going to, ah, give in to her charms. Instead, it was Kitty who met her in the park and stabbed Dottie through the heart using a hatpin from her own collection.”
“Good gosh,” Chaz said. “That’s appalling. But what about poor Harry?”
“Kitty’d been hanging around Apollyon trying to get back into Derby’s good graces when she saw us talking to Harry. Of course, Harry knew all about what had been going on and she was afraid he’d spilled the proverbial beans. So she killed him, too. And being somewhat clever, she thought she could make it look like a mass murderer was on the loose by using the same method of death and the twin to the first hatpin,” I explained. “What she didn’t count on was Archie realizing she’d done it. I mean he told us from the beginning it was her. And when the police didn’t arrest her, he confronted her himself.”
“And she admitted it?” Hale asked.
“According to Archie, yes. Told him she’d done it for them. Only Archie wasn’t in love with Kitty anymore. He was besotted with Dottie. When Kitty confessed to murdering his new obsession, he stabbed her with a screwdriver in a fit of rage.”
“But what about the hatpin?” Aunt Butty asked.
“He knew he had to throw the police off the scent, so he went out to a second-hand shop and bought a cheap hatpin in the same shape and pushed it into the wound, hoping they would think it was the same killer,” I said.
“He obviously doesn’t understand modern forensics,” Chaz said dryly.
“Ain’t that the truth,” North muttered around a biscuit.
“I’m just glad you’re safe,” Hale murmured, wrapping an arm around my shoulders.
“What about that terrible Derby Jones?” Aunt Butty wanted to know.
“With the documents the two of you found, there’s enough to put Jones away for a very long time,” North assured us.
“Well, that’s a relief,” she said, refilling her cup. “Can’t have nasty pieces of work like that running amok.”
“No, we cannot,” North agreed, polishing off his biscuit before rising from his seat. “Well, I must be off. Do try and stay out of my way, will you?” And with that he marched out of the room.
“Fat chance,” Chaz chuckled.
“Oh, Chaz,” Aunt Butty said, reaching under her chair and coming up with a parcel, “I know it’s a bit early, but I have your birthday gift here.”
“Why, thank you, Aunt B.” He grinned happily. “So kind of you.”
“Wait 'til you open it,” I muttered.
He ripped open the paper and froze a moment, before lifting out a mustard yellow monstrosity of a hand-knitted scarf. “Er, it’s quite... something, Aunt B. Thanks awfully.”
“I know the winter is nearly over,” Aunt Butty said, “but there will still be plenty of cold weather for you to enjoy it.”
He looked a little pale. “Can’t wait.”
I snickered, and he shot me a dirty look before stuffing the scarf back in the wrapping. “You know, Aunt B., you finding the secret safe was quite something. I bet Jones will be steamed when he hears about it.”
As the two of them chatted about the future repercussions of Derby’s enterprise being broken up, Hale leaned into me, his breath warm against my ear. “With all this talk of the future, perhaps we should talk about ours.”
My heart thudded in my chest as I turned to meet his gaze. His eyes were warm and full of meaning, and I found myself in dire need of another medicinal cup of tea.
“Yes,” I whispered eagerly. “Yes, I think we should have a talk.”
His thumb rubbed circles on the back of my hand. “Shall I throw them out?”
I turned to glance at Aunt Butty and Chaz who were already both a little tipsy and arguing over the best way to off a wayward spouse without getting caught. I held back a smile.
“Let them argue it out. We have plenty of time to talk. I’m not going anywhere.”
He gave me a long, slow, sultry smile. “Nor am I.”
Coming in Spring 2019
Lady Rample and the Mysterious Mr. Singh
Lady Rample Mysteries - Book Seven
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