Chapter 15

“Dead?” I said. “What do you mean?”

Clive stared at Sebastian. “That’s impossible. He can’t be dead.”

Detective Sergeant Templeton hurried toward the door. “Show me.” She grabbed Sebastian by the arm and dragged him out.

“Don’t anybody move,” D. I. Nelson said. He took several steps and then stopped. He pointed to Dr. Blankenship. “Nobody except you.” He beckoned for the doctor to accompany him.

“Look, I’ve helped you out multiple times today, but I’m on vacation, and I—”

“Oh, never mind,” Tiffany said. “Just go.”

Dr. Blankenship looked tired. Torn between his duty as a doctor and his wife, he was in a no-win situation. Eventually, he hoisted himself up and followed the detective.

D. I. Nelson led the way. When he got within a few feet of me, he stopped to sneer. “Amateurs.” Then, he hurried to the back of the room, followed closely by Dr. Blankenship. At the doorway, the detective leaned out into the lobby. “Constable, stand by this door, and if anyone tries to leave . . . you have my permission to use your taser.”

The two men left, and the constable closed the door behind him and stood there blocking the way.

I flopped down onto my seat. “I don’t understand. He can’t be dead.”

However, after waiting in the electrically charged ballroom for over a half hour, Detective Sergeant Templeton returned. She whispered something to the constable and then announced, “Major Peabody is dead. We’re going to need to get statements from all of you. Please, be patient and we will be with you shortly.” She turned and whispered something else to the constable and then left.

Debra Holt had been anxiously pacing the floor ever since her fiancé had returned to deliver the news that her uncle was dead. The speed of her pacing increased as we waited. The only time she stopped was to glare at Clive Green. Eventually, she stopped, spun around, and pointed. “This is all your fault. You did this. I know you did. You knew my uncle intended to sell the tour company, and you were determined to stop him.”

I hadn’t thought Clive’s pale face could have gotten any more ashen, but I was wrong. “I would never—”

Debra laughed. “You’re a former policeman. You certainly know enough about crime to have killed Uncle Horace.” She flung the words like daggers. “Face it. You never really cared about him. You knew he was allergic to bees, but you just had to have your bloody swarms. You had to have your honey, and you argued with him.” She turned to Nana Jo and me. “You heard him.”

I struggled to maintain eye contact and felt myself getting warm under her laser-focused gaze.

“Clive Green wasn’t the only one who argued with Major Peabody,” Nana Jo said.

Debra halted. “Uncle Horace and I argued all the time. That was nothing.” She waved her hand. “We’re family.” She scowled at Clive. “They should have handcuffed you.”

“I’ve got handcuffs,” Irma said. She reached into her purse and pulled out a pair. “I always keep a set in case of emergency.” She twirled the cuffs and winked at Lavington.

“Put those away, you dingbat,” Nana Jo said.

Debra Holt flopped down into a chair. “Uncle Horace would have come around eventually. He always did.” She put her head in her hands and sobbed.

No one seemed to know what to do. Eventually, Tiffany walked over to Debra, slid a handkerchief into her hands, and gave her shoulder an awkward pat. Eventually, Debra’s sobs subsided, and Tiffany returned to her seat.

I felt something move under the table and very nearly leapt out of my seat. I leaned down to take a look.

Nana Jo smacked my arm. “Be still.”

“But . . . I felt something.” I leaned down again and got another smack from Nana Jo.

“Stop. You’re drawing attention to the . . . luggage.” She lifted a flap that went down one side of the small bag she had brought down earlier, and I saw a pair of bright eyes and a muzzle. I glanced at Nana Jo.

“That’s a d—”

“I know. Now, keep quiet. I’ll explain later.”

I glanced at my grandmother and tried not to keep glancing down at the bag, but it was a struggle.

It took several hours for the detectives to get through all our statements. I was afraid Clive Green would have a stroke. He looked dazed and pale and about thirty years older than when he had first entered the room.

Debra Holt was distraught. She kept mumbling, “It was the bees. It was Clive Green. I know it was.” She was so agitated, she eventually had to lie down.

Her distress seemed genuine. I guess she really cared for Major Peabody. I knew from experience that families weren’t perfect. They argued and behaved badly, but when the rubber hit the road, blood was thicker than water. I pushed my dislike of the woman aside.

Despite the serious nature of the events, I couldn’t help being intrigued by the opportunity to see real detectives in action. I took a few notes and hoped that the basics hadn’t changed much since 1939. I was one of the last to give my statement, and what I had to say was brief. I hadn’t seen or talked to Major Peabody since the first night. The last time I’d actually seen him was when he faked his death. I didn’t know much about the major, and I was still perplexed by what happened. Eventually, the constable gave up. I guess there’s only so many times you can hear I don’t know or I have no idea. I asked a few questions in the hope of gleaning a little information, but one thing British detectives shared with their counterparts in the United States was a repulsion for “amateur sleuths” meddling in their investigations. There must be a class that all policemen take, regardless of country, on how to avoid answering questions asked by potential suspects.

When I walked out of the ballroom, I found Nana Jo, Hannah Schneider, and the girls waiting in the lobby for me.

“I need a drink,” Nana Jo said. “There’s a pub down the street, and we’re going.” She no longer had Lavender Habersham’s luggage with her.

Outside, I hurried to catch up to my grandmother. “Wait. Where’s the dog?”

“One of Ruby Mae’s new friends on staff is feeding her and agreed to watch her until we get back.”

“But, how? I mean, why?”

Nana Jo shook her head. “Sam, I’ve had a long day, and I need food and a drink. If you care about me at all, you’ll hold your questions until I get at least one of those things.”

I smiled as I followed my grandmother down the street and into a pub called the Down Under.

The pub looked and smelled like every other bar I’ve ever been to. There were quite a few people, but we lucked out and managed to find a booth in a corner just big enough for the six of us. We slid in while Dorothy went to the bar and placed our orders. When the barmaid set our drinks on the table, Nana Jo decided to save time by immediately ordering two more and whatever snacks she could find.

The woman barely looked up from her notepad. She must have heard stranger requests. Her only question was, “Will this be separate or together?”

Hannah grabbed a dish of nuts from a nearby table, and when the barmaid returned with Nana Jo’s next drink, she ordered fish and chips for us all and another round of drinks.

Once Nana Jo had two drinks in her system, she seemed a lot steadier. “We’ve been going since early this morning when Prudence Habersham was found murdered. Then, I was playing wet nurse to Lavender, only to find out that someone has now murdered Major Peabody, who we thought was already dead.”

I glanced at my grandmother. “Wow. I guess all of that did happen today. It seems like it’s been a lot longer.”

“Now, I’ve got to hide that daft woman’s dog.” Nana Jo tossed some nuts in her mouth.

“How did you end up with her dog?” I asked.

Nana Jo swallowed her nuts. “Remember when they were about to wheel Lavender away and she whispered something to me?”

I nodded.

“That’s when she told me she was worried about her dog. They couldn’t leave the dog at home and snuck her on the tour.”

“That explains why Lavender was carrying her luggage everywhere she went.” I wanted to smack myself for not thinking of this sooner.

Nana Jo nodded. “Bella is her Yorkshire terrier.”

“How on earth did she hide a dog?” Dorothy asked.

Nana Jo chugged back her third drink. “It’s a tiny little thing. It can’t weigh more than five pounds.”

Ruby Mae sipped a glass of wine. “Still, I can’t believe no one heard the dog.”

She shrugged. “Beats me, but she’s a cute little thing and really doesn’t bark much.”

I stared at Nana Jo. “I’m surprised D. I. Nelson let you remove the dog from the room.”

Nana Jo avoided eye contact and hummed.

I narrowed my eyes. “Nana Jo, how did you get the dog out of the room?”

She spent a few moments looking everywhere but at me, but eventually she gave in and slumped down. “All right, the police had that yellow and black crime scene tape roping off the door, and there was a constable stationed in the hallway.” She tapped her fingers on the table. “So, I got the maid to let me into the adjourning room, and then I unlocked the connecting door and snuck in and got the bag with the dog, which, by the way, was under the bed.”

I stared open-mouthed at my grandmother. “You removed evidence from a crime scene? You could go to jail for that.”

“Look, the police had already been in the room.” She sat up straight. “If Detective Inspector Nelson was such a great detective, then why didn’t he find the dog?” She stared at me. “I mean, it was under the bed the entire time, and he didn’t even know. Plus, I was doing a humanitarian service. That poor little dog needed to eat and go potty.” She tilted her head to the side and gave me a sad expression. “If it were Snickers or Oreo who were left in a room all day with just a little food and water, wouldn’t you want someone to do the same thing?”

When it came to manipulation and emotional blackmail, my family were experts. “Now I know where Mom gets it.”

Nana Jo smiled. “If you can’t beat them, make them feel guilty.”

The barmaid brought our food and another round of drinks, and we stopped talking and took care of our gastronomical needs. When the hunger was satisfied, we got down to business.

Nana Jo pulled her iPad from her purse. “All right, let’s get this meeting started.”

Hannah Schneider looked puzzled. “Meeting?”

Ruby Mae pulled her knitting from her bag. “This is usually how all of our sleuthing meetings start.”

Irma had spotted a single man at the bar and had turned in her seat so her legs were facing her prey, and she was making goo-goo eyes at her next victim.

Nana Jo reached across the table and smacked her on the arm. “Will you pay attention.”

Irma swore at the interruption but turned her attention back to the meeting. “Fine, but can we hurry up? I’m about to hook a Brit, and you’re cramping my style.”

Nana Jo looked at her notes and then up at me. “Sam, you gave us assignments earlier, but with Major Peabody actually getting murdered, I’m not sure how you want to handle things.”

“I suppose we should stick to our original assignments.” I glanced around. “Does everyone remember what they were?”

Dorothy folded her arms. “I want a new assignment.”

“Why?”

“I’m not sure I can look at Oberst . . . I mean, Oscar again, let alone flirt with him enough to get him to spill his guts.”

Nana Jo stared down her nose at her friend. “Dorothy, I know you’re upset, but this is serious business. This is murder.”

Murder. The word tumbled around in my head. Someone had killed Major Horace Peabody and Prudence Habersham. I found it hard to believe that a few days ago I didn’t even know either one of them existed, but now here I was, sitting at a pub in London, trying to figure out who killed them.

Nana Jo got my attention by waving a hand in front of my eyes. “Earth to Samantha.”

I quickly returned to the here and now. “I’m sorry.”

“What’s the matter?”

“I don’t know. I guess I’m just questioning why we’re doing this.”

Nana Jo put her iPad down. “What do you mean, why?”

“We got involved in solving a few murders back home in North Harbor, but there was always a compelling reason for getting involved. Let’s face it, Stinky Pitt couldn’t find a killer who was standing naked in the middle of the street with a neon sign over his head.”

Nana Jo and the girls nodded.

Hannah looked confused. “Stinky Pitt?”

Ruby Mae looked up from her knitting. “He’s the local detective in North Harbor, Michigan.”

“Not the sharpest knife in the drawer?”

“I’ve got sharper spoons.”

I took a moment and tried to collect my thoughts. “We all know that Stinky . . . ah, I mean, Detective Pitt is incompetent. Back home, we got involved to keep him from arresting some innocent person . . . like me or Nana Jo. We’re in a different country, and no one is accusing any of us of killing Major Peabody or Prudence Habersham.” I sighed. “Scotland Yard is known all over the world for their ability to solve crimes.”

Nana Jo leaned forward. “Do you honestly believe that Detective Inspector Rupert Nelson is capable of solving these murders?”

I gave the matter a moment’s thought and then shook myself off. “I don’t know. I do know that I don’t really know Prudence Habersham or Major Peabody. I’m on vacation, and I want to enjoy it. I don’t necessarily want to spend this entire trip trying to track down a killer.” Even to my own ears, I sounded whiney. “Couldn’t we leave this one to the professionals. . . just once?”

Nana Jo gave me a long stare. Then she closed her iPad and returned it to her purse. “Sam’s right. We don’t really know these people. Why should we care that they were cold-bloodedly murdered?”

I shrank back in my seat at the heartlessness of the remark.

Nana Jo reached out and squeezed my hand. “I didn’t mean it the way that came out. I just meant that maybe you’re right. D. I. Nelson looks about as bright as a burned-out light bulb, but that Detective Sergeant Templeton looks like one sharp cookie.”

Ruby Mae nodded. “I’ll bet not much slips past her.”

Dorothy looked from Nana Jo to me. “So, what are you saying?”

Nana Jo patted my hand. “I’m saying, let’s leave this murder to the professionals and enjoy our vacation.”

Irma smacked her hand on the table. “Hot da—”

“Irma!”

Irma broke out into a coughing fit. She reached over and took the glass of white wine I had been nursing for an hour and chugged it. She then stood up and wiggled to slide her skirt down. “I’ll catch you girls later. I’m going fishing.” She marched over to the bar, placed an arm around the shoulders of the single man she’d been ogling, and turned on her charm.

Nana Jo shook her head. “That woman is man crazy.”

We spent some time talking, drinking, and laughing. For the first time in days, I wasn’t thinking about murder and was enjoying thinking ahead to a visit to Torquay and the home of Agatha Christie.

Murder was the furthest thing from my mind until Nana Jo nudged me. “Isn’t that D. I. Nelson?”

I glanced at the door, and there stood Detective Inspector Nelson and Detective Sergeant Templeton. When they spotted us, they walked over to our table.

“Hello, detectives. What a surprise. We didn’t expect—”

Nelson gave me an icy stare that froze the words on my lips. He then turned to Hannah. “Hannah Schneider, you are under arrest on suspicion of the murder of Prudence Habersham and Major Horace Peabody.” He grabbed Hannah by the arm and pulled her to her feet. “You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defense if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court.”

“What are you doing?” Nana Jo yelled. “You can’t be serious!”

Templeton avoided making eye contact, and the slump of her shoulders told me she wasn’t happy about this, but Nelson was in charge.

He pulled Hannah’s hands behind her back and handcuffed her. “Anything you do say may be given in evidence.” He pulled her forward, and the three marched out of the bar.

To my dying day, I will never forget the stricken look on Hannah’s face. All of the noise stopped, and everyone turned to watch our friend arrested and humiliated. However, the indictment that will forever wring my heart was the look on Ruby Mae’s face as she turned to me. “Do you still think Scotland Yard will be able to catch the real killer?”