Chapter 16
We sat in shock for a few moments. It lasted until Nana Jo grabbed her purse. “Well, come on. We gotta go spring Hannah.” Apparently, we weren’t moving fast enough because she went into drill sergeant mode and started shouting orders. She tossed Ruby Mae a credit card. “Pay the bar tabs.” She turned to me. “Call your sister.” While heading for the door, she yelled, “Dorothy, grab Irma, and I’ll get us a taxi.”
I glanced at the time before I called my sister. I pushed the number on speed dial and waited. Eventually, I heard Jenna’s voice. She spoke softly and quickly. I could tell this wasn’t a great time.
“Sam, I can’t talk. I’m just about to speak at the Southwestern Michigan Bar Association dinner.”
“It’s important.”
“Are you dead?”
“Jenna, I—”
“I’ve got to give a speech in less than five minutes. So, unless someone’s dead, I—”
“Actually, two people are dead.”
That got her attention. “Is Nana Jo okay?”
“Nana Jo’s fine, although she’s a bit frazzled.”
“Ruby Mae, Irma, and Dorothy?”
“We’re all fine.” I walked outside. “It’s Major Peabody, he owned the tour, and Mrs. Prudence Habersham, but—”
“Did you kill them?”
I stared at the phone. “Of course I didn’t kill them.”
“Did Nana Jo kill them?”
“No! Nana Jo didn’t kill them either.”
“Then, why are you calling me?”
“I’m calling because—”
Nana Jo wrenched the phone from my hand. “Give me that.” She put the phone to her ear. “Now, listen here, Jenna. She’s calling you because we need legal advice. Neither Sam nor I killed anyone, and you know it. But the police just waltzed into a bar and arrested our friend, Hannah Schneider, who also didn’t kill them, by the way. However, innocence doesn’t seem to matter to Scotland Yard! They just handcuffed a poor recently widowed woman and marched her out of the pub and took her . . . well, I don’t know where they took her, but she’s alone and we can’t let some overbearing, smelly detective inspector just whisk our friend away without doing something. Now, you turn on that brain and tell Sam what to do or who we should contact or I’ll make the biggest international incident since the Boston Tea Party.” Nana Jo spotted a taxi and shoved the phone back at me while she went to the corner and practically hurled herself in the street.
I put the phone to my ear. “Now you see what I’m dealing with.”
The taxi didn’t stop, and Nana Jo let fly a string of curse words that I didn’t even know she knew.
“Was that Nana Jo?” Jenna asked.
“Yep. She was trying to hail a taxi. Look, Nana Jo’s right. Hannah didn’t murder those people either. I’m not sure what evidence they think they have, but . . . they’re wrong.”
Jenna sighed. “Is Hannah an American?”
“No. She’s British.”
“If she were an American, you could call the American Consulate. Since she’s a British citizen, you’ll need to try and get her a lawyer. Although, I think they’re divided into two types. They have barristers and solicitors. She’ll need a barrister.” She sighed again. “Sam, you’re going to need to talk to someone there who can advise you. Sorry.”
“Thanks. I appreciate the help, and good luck with your speech.”
“Only you and Nana Jo could go on vacation and have two people murdered on your tour group.” Jenna chuckled. “Better you than me.”
“Thanks.” I hung up.
Nana Jo was still trying to hail a taxi and getting more upset.
Irma walked up to her. “Here, let me do it.” She hiked up her skirt, slid her jacket off her shoulder, and stepped into the street.
Within seconds, a black taxi skidded to a halt.
Ruby Mae said, “You have got to be kidding me.”
“We’ll never hear the end of this,” Nana Jo said.
We hurried to get into the taxi.
There was an awkward silence when the taxi driver asked, “Where to?”
Everyone looked at me, and I said, “New Scotland Yard.”
The taxi driver set the meter and pulled away from the curb.
Under normal circumstances, I would have relished a trip to Scotland Yard. It would have provided a lot of useful information for my books. However, this wasn’t a normal circumstance.
The name of Scotland Yard sent a shiver up my spine. However, when the taxi pulled up to the building, I felt a stab of disappointment. In my head, I knew my mental image of the famous Metropolitan Police Force was archaic. Policemen no longer walked around in Victorian uniforms, but the reality of modern day was still disappointing. Instead of the romanticized building visited by Hercule Poirot and Inspector Japp in the Agatha Christie novels I loved, I was confronted by glass . . . tons and tons of glass. New Scotland Yard was a glass-and-steel high-rise building. Apart from the sign, it could have fit into virtually any American city.
Inside, and as we’d prearranged on the car ride, rather than asking for Detective Inspector Nelson, we asked for Detective Sergeant Templeton.
Templeton didn’t keep us waiting long. She looked surprised but friendly. “How may I help you ladies?”
“We’re here to check on our friend,” Nano Jo said. “Hannah Schneider didn’t murder anyone, and we’re not going to stand around and let that . . . that . . . lump of lard railroad our friend.”
The corners of her lips twitched, but Templeton got them under control and didn’t let the laughter we saw in her eyes escape from her mouth. Although, she did cough several times. “Ladies, I can assure you that your friend isn’t being railroaded. In fact, she immediately requested legal advice and has refused to talk without it. Smart woman.”
Nana Jo released a breath. “But, what does he have on her?”
Templeton looked around. “Would you ladies care for some coffee or tea?”
We were about to decline, but something in her manner made us realize that would be a mistake.
She glanced at her watch. “There’s a diner not far from here that stays open pretty late to accommodate the Met. Why don’t I meet you ladies there?” She quickly gave us the address and turned to leave.
We hurried outside and walked the short distance to the diner. We found a private table away from the window. After about fifteen minutes, Templeton hurried in and sat down at our table. “I could lose my job if Nelson knows I’m talking to you.”
“Why?” I asked. “We’re just concerned for our friend.”
We waited while the waitress took our coffee orders. She came back quickly with six cups of steaming hot coffee, sugar, and cream. We waited for her to leave before continuing.
Templeton took a deep breath. “I’m sure you noticed that Nelson is a few sandwiches short of a picnic.”
“Is that like saying a few fries short of a Happy Meal?” Nana Jo asked.
Templeton chuckled. “Basically.”
“Then, how’d he get to be a detective inspector?” Irma said. She leaned forward. “Is he sleeping with someone high up?”
Templeton quickly put down her coffee and reached for her purse. “I shouldn’t be here. I need to—”
Nana Jo reached out a hand to calm the policewoman. “Forgive my friend; she’s an idiot. He’s obviously like Stinky Pitt.”
Templeton looked confused. “Who is Stinky Pitt?”
“He’s a nincompoop police detective in our hometown who got promoted to detective because of family connections, but if your D. I. Nelson is a few sandwiches short of a picnic, then Stinky Pitt is missing the entire picnic basket.”
Templeton smiled. “Nelson is connected to an influential MP. I graduated top of my class.” She stared down into her coffee. “I was assigned to him to keep him from embarrassing himself or the Met, but he treats me like a glorified secretary.”
I said, “You know Hannah Schneider didn’t murder those people.”
She gave me a hard stare. “Let’s just say, I think it highly unlikely. I mean, her husband was a former copper. If nothing else, she would have enough knowledge to avoid getting caught.”
“May I ask what evidence he has?”
She looked as though she was sizing me up. Then, she leaned back in her seat. “What’s your interest?”
I glanced around, and Nana Jo gave me a slight nod. I took a deep breath and explained that I owned a mystery bookshop but that we had unofficially helped our local police solve several murders.
She squinted. “Detective Stinky Pitt allowed you to assist in his investigation?”
“Not officially, but as long as we allow him to take the credit for solving the murders, then he hasn’t stopped us.”
She glanced around the table and gave each of us a long glance.
Nana Jo folded her arms. “I hope you aren’t one of those people who believe that just because we’re older that we must be ready for a nursing home.”
“The last person who underestimated us ended up flat on his back with my size-ten shoe on his throat,” Dorothy said.
“Actually,” I said, “Nana Jo and Dorothy are both black belts in two different martial arts.”
“Plus, when I have my peacemaker with me,” Nana Jo said, “I can still outshoot any young whippersnapper who’s willing to put their money where their mouth is.”
I pointed to Ruby Mae. “For some reason, people like to talk to Ruby Mae, and her extended family is huge.”
Irma was making goo-goo eyes at a man sitting alone, who looked young enough to be her grandson.
The detective sergeant’s eyes asked the question, What about her?
I shrugged. “She’s got a way with men.”
“Harrumph,” Nana Jo said. “She’s a floozy.”
Templeton smiled and must have made up her mind to trust us because she leaned forward and spoke softly. “Several people heard Major Peabody make disparaging remarks about Jews in Hannah’s presence. She was one of the last people in the ballroom the last night that the major was alive.”
“But lots of people fought with the major,” Nana Jo said.
“True, but she’s the only one who argued with him who had digitalis in her room.”
“Digitalis?” I said. “Is that what killed him?”
“That’s what Dr. Blankenship guessed, but we won’t know until there’s an autopsy. But if anyone finds out I told you, I could lose my—”
Nana Jo waved her hand to silence the woman’s fears. “We’ll never tell.”
Ruby Mae looked up from her knitting. “Hannah has a weak heart. I think the digitalis was her own medication.”
“What’s the evidence against her for killing Mrs. Habersham?” I asked.
She shook her head. “He doesn’t really have anything other than the fact that she gave sedatives to the daughter.”
“But that was just melatonin.” I looked at Nana Jo. “We both saw the bottle.”
“It’s completely harmless,” Nana Jo said. “Besides, Lavender isn’t dead.”
“Nelson’s old-fashioned. He thinks he can intimidate her into confessing.”
“Pshaw.” Nana Jo snorted. “The man’s a fool.”
Ruby Mae said, “She’s a tough woman, and she certainly won’t confess to a crime she didn’t commit.”
“What are you going to do?” Templeton asked.
“First, we need to get Hannah out of jail,” Ruby Mae said.
“I don’t think that will be a problem. He doesn’t have much, and a good solicitor will have her out within hours.” She glanced at her watch. “She may already be out.”
“What can we do to help?” I asked.
She gave me a hard look. “I’m supposed to say stay out of it. This is dangerous. Someone has . . . up until now, gotten away with murdering two people. They’re dangerous. You need to leave this to the professionals.” She gave us all harsh looks, but after we merely returned her glances, she shook her head. “You’re not going to listen to me, are you?”
We all shook our heads.
“How about this. Keep your ears to the ground, and if you hear anything, you call me.” She reached in her purse and passed around her card. She sighed. “Look, martial arts black belts or not, this person is dangerous.”
Nana Jo patted her arm. “We’ll be careful. Don’t you worry about us. American women are tough. We don’t go down without a fight.”
The detective sighed again. “I knew you wouldn’t listen. American women are also stubborn.”
“Not all American women are stubborn,” I said, “but . . . you’re not entirely wrong.”
“I need to have my head examined for sharing any of this.” She leaned forward and dropped her voice to a whisper. “And, if this gets back to the Met, I’ll shoot you myself.”
Nana Jo crossed her heart and held up three fingers in the Girl Scout salute.
“My money is on Professor Lavington. He—”
Irma sat up straight and stuck out her chest. “Bullsh—”
“Irma!”
She broke out in a coughing fit. She glanced around for something to drink but was faced with only water or coffee. She took a sip of coffee. “Albus wouldn’t harm a fly.”
Templeton gave Irma a hard glance. “Did you know Albus Lavington was fired from the university when they learned he lied about his credentials?”
Irma gawked at the sergeant.
“What did he lie about?” I asked. “A lot of people overexaggerate or embellish their resumes.”
“Albus Lavington never finished his doctorate. In fact, he never graduated from any college that we can find.”
Nana Jo whistled.
Irma’s shock wore off. “Well, that lying little weasel.”
“Lying about his education and pretending to be a professor doesn’t make him a murderer,” Dorothy said.
“You’re right, but the person who exposed his lies was Horace Peabody.”
“Major Horace Peabody? Owner of Mystery Lovers Tours?”
“The one and only.”
“So, you’re thinking Lavington was so upset that he killed Horace Peabody and Prudence Habersham?” I asked.
Templeton shrugged. “I don’t know. He should have told us about it when we questioned him, but he didn’t. I’m not saying he murdered them, but it’s a possibility. He knew one of the victims well, and when people don’t volunteer information, I get suspicious.”
“How did Major Peabody find out?” Ruby Mae asked. “The two men must have known each other pretty well?”
“The only connection we can find between the two men so far is that they were both in the military around the same time. However, that’s not uncommon in men of that age.”
“Anyone else?” I asked the detective.
She squirmed in her seat for a few moments, but we let her squirm. Eventually, she gave in to the silence. “Clive Green is retired CID, but he didn’t exactly leave on good terms.”
“You mean he was fired?” Dorothy asked.
“I haven’t been able to find anything about his history, which is suspicious in itself. His records are sealed, and no one who worked with him is talking. I’ve been told to drop it.”
“I wonder what dirty business Clive’s been up to?” Nana Jo asked.
“What about Dr. Vincent Blankenship and his wife Tiffany?” Ruby Mae asked.
The detective shook her head. “Those two appear to be exactly what they seem, American tourists. Dr. Blankenship is a successful medical doctor, and his wife is a housewife. They have two small children. Tiffany filed for divorce about three months ago, but she never followed through.” She glanced around. “Then there’s you all.”
“Us?” Nana Jo bristled. “You’ve been investigating us?”
I patted my grandmother’s hand to calm her down. “Nana Jo, it’s normal procedure. They don’t know us.”
She wasn’t convinced but folded her arms across her chest and mumbled, “Wasting time and resources investigating us.”
“Can I ask what you found out?” I asked.
“Detective Bradley Pitt of the North Harbor Police called you . . .”
Nana Jo glared. “Go ahead, spit it out.”
Templeton took out her cell phone. She swiped a few times until she found what she was looking for. “He called you, and I quote, ‘A bunch of nosey old broads who think they’re Nancy Drew and who like to meddle in things that don’t concern them.’”
Nana Jo smacked her hand down on the table. “Why that dirty little pip-squeak.”
“After everything we’ve done to help him,” Dorothy said.
Templeton held up a hand to quell the outrage. “He also said, ‘Those old biddies have a knack for getting people to talk and a network that the FBI, CIA, and Interpol would envy. People trust them, so they tell them things they’d never say to the police.’” She looked up from her phone for a moment and then continued, “He said, ‘I’d stake my reputation that none of those women killed anyone, but if someone was foolish enough to commit a murder within twenty miles of them, there’s no way they’ll keep out of it.’” She glanced at me. “ ‘Samantha Washington is a pretty sharp cookie. If you need to sort things out, she’s the one to do it, but if you tell them I said it, I’ll deny every word.’ ”
I could feel everyone looking at me.
Nana Jo huffed. “Maybe Stinky Pitt isn’t as worthless as I thought.”
“Stinky Pitt?” Templeton asked.
Nana Jo explained the nickname was given when the detective was a boy and she was his math teacher. “I like to torment him by using it periodically.”
Templeton finished her coffee and rose to leave. “I know you believe you’re tough and invincible, but I want to caution you to be careful. There’s a killer on the loose. If you have any information or an inkling of who could be responsible, please call me.”
“I promise,” I said. “We’ll be careful.” I extended a hand to shake. “American women are tough, but I suspect England has some pretty tough women too.”
She shook my hand and gave me a slight smile and walked out.
We talked for a few moments and then paid our check. Rather than relying on Irma’s assets to secure a taxi, I asked the waitress if she would ring one for us.
When we walked into the hotel lobby, Hannah Schneider was there waiting for us. We rushed up to her and hugged her. Everyone started firing questions at once, and Hannah looked overwhelmed.
Nana Jo held up a hand to halt the questions. “Do you feel up to talking?”
Hannah nodded.
We found a secluded area in the lobby and sat down and waited. Hannah got settled and took a deep breath. “I’ve never been so humiliated in my life.” Tears started to stream down her cheeks.
Ruby Mae slipped a handkerchief into her hands and put an arm around the woman’s shoulders. After a bit, Hannah sniffed, took a deep breath, and pulled herself together. “I’m sorry. It’s just every time I think about it, I get so angry.”
Nana Jo reached over and patted the woman’s hand. “We can wait until tomorrow if you’d rather.”
Hannah shook her head. “No, I’d like to get this out now. Then, I’m going to my room to take a long shower, make myself a cup of tea, and try to get some sleep and forget this horrible day ever happened.”
“You might need something stronger than tea,” Dorothy joked.
Hannah smiled and patted her purse. “Agreed.” She dabbed at her eyes and took a deep breath. “After I was taken out of the pub like a . . . common criminal . . .” Her voice broke.
“Try not to dwell on that,” Ruby Mae said. “What happened once you were at the police station?”
“Well, on the ride over, I got angry, but I remembered everything my husband and my daughter ever talked about with their jobs.”
“Your daughter?” I asked. “We know your husband was a policeman, but your daughter . . .”
“My daughter’s a barrister.” Hannah smiled. “Didn’t I mention it?”
“No, you never did.”
“So, as soon as we got to the Yard, I demanded a solicitor and called my daughter. She got there in record time and demanded to know what evidence they had against me. Honestly, within an hour, I was released.” She grinned. “She wanted me to go home with her, but . . . I told her I wanted to see this thing out.” She looked at each of us. “We are going to investigate and find the real killer?”
Nana Jo and the girls all turned to me.
I reached across and squeezed Hannah’s hand. “Absolutely.”