MISS EATON LIVED IN A PERFECTLY normal-looking boarding house, red brick, with only one bell at the door that presumably went to the landlady’s flat and only a few modern steam pipes poking out. There was no set of message tubes, so no way to see if she was in other than ringing the bell and waiting for the landlady.
The woman who opened the door was thin with badly hennaed hair and misplaced rouge.
“I came to speak to Miss Connie Eaton.”
“She’s at work, dear, but if you’d like to leave a message.”
“I’m afraid it’s not the sort of thing I can leave a message for. Do you know when she’ll be back? You see, I wanted to talk to her about the death of her fiancé.”
The woman’s be-ringed hand flew to her chest, but she seemed genuinely distressed. “He died? I hadn’t heard. How awful for her. And he was just here yesterday for dinner and said how much he liked my rolls.”
I stared at her. “Yesterday?”
“Yes, and he was so alive. When did it happen? As he was going home? I always wonder if I should ask them to stay when it’s so late, but this is a respectable boarding house. But I would feel so guilty if...”
“He died last Saturday.”
The landlady stared at me. “Would you like to come in for some tea?”
“I think I’d better.”
The landlady led me through to her sitting room and got tea and biscuits set out. I stayed quiet until we were settled in with cups of Irish breakfast and plates of shortbread. When we’d finished our first sips and nibbles, she broke the silence. “I’m Mrs. O’Connell, by the way.”
“Miss Pengear. I was hired to type up the insurance papers for Kleinman and Company, so I was there when the unfortunate incidents occurred.”
“You said her fiancé had died last Saturday. I suppose I would classify that as unfortunate. Also quite unusual, considering I saw him yesterday.”
“The gentleman in question was a Mr. Morris. Apparently Miss Eaton had been overheard discussing their engagement on several occasions.”
Mrs. O’Connell stirred her tea. “I suppose I’m not surprised. She has always been a good tenant, always paid on time, but sometimes you get a feeling about people. Especially when you’ve had as many come through as I have.”
I wondered if that was true or if the feeling had just manifested. “Would you tell me about this other fiancé?”
“His name is Mr. Broome. They’ve been engaged for over a year as far as I know. Not particularly handsome, but the dashing sort that girls go for, although he does have a job as a clerk at the post office. Quite junior, I would expect. He’s quite charming but not someone you would trust with anything too important.”
“But they were definitely engaged?”
“They carried on like they were. Not like that in front of me, of course. But they had gone to look for a flat to live in. I think their plan was to go to Scotland when they were ready and have it done there, then honeymoon on the continent. I heard them discussing it more than once in the parlor, and she did have timetables showing the trains.”
“So their families weren’t going to be there?”
“I had the impression that neither one had family. No, Miss Eaton told me she had a cousin in Canada, but that was the closest relative. I like to have someone to get in touch with if someone becomes ill, you see. I don’t know about him, but it wouldn’t surprise me if any relatives he had had disowned him long ago.”
I bit into my shortbread to give me time to think. So many possibilities. She'd probably borrowed the cousin from Miss Henderson. Had she planned to marry Mr. Morris for his money and keep Mr. Broome on the side? Did Mr. Morris have money? Was she leading Mr. Morris along and planning to marry Mr. Broome for his prospects? Had being engaged to Mr. Morris given her some benefit at work that would make it worth stringing him along? Or had Miss Peters been mistaken all along? But then why hadn’t Miss Eaton corrected us somewhere in the investigation? “Do you know when Mr. Broome will be calling again?”
“No, he isn’t someone who keeps a regular schedule.”
“Do you have his address, then?”
“Never had a good excuse to ask for it, I’m afraid.”
“His first name, perhaps?”
“I’m afraid I never worked that into conversation either.”
“Or the post office where he works?”
She paused. “He’s never mentioned it, but I'm sure it isn’t the one on the next corner over. That’s where I go, and I’ve never seen him there. I’ve always wondered if he lied about that, it being the one piece of information I managed to get out of him.”
“To you or to her?”
“That is the question, isn’t it?” She held up the teapot.
“Thanks.” As she refilled my cup, I considered my next line of questioning. “When she first arrived in London, where did she work?”
“She told me a hat shop and gave me the name and a note from the owner verifying her employment with the deposit. It all seemed on the up and up, and the rent came in first of the month on the dot.”
“But something seemed odd?”
“Well, I needed a new hat for my sister’s wedding, so I went looking for the shop, and it wasn’t there. Not at the address on the stationary, not in the London directory, nowhere. I didn’t say anything since the rent was on time, and she didn’t have any gentleman callers at the time, but I always wondered what was going on. Then she missed two rent payments. I asked her about it, and she said the shop was closing, but she’d line something up, and she ended up at the jewelry shop, and the rent’s on time again. But I would like to know what the hat-shop business was because I’m sure it had nothing to do with hats.”
I was certain she was right; Miss Eaton had told Lady Suffolk flowers, which I was sure was equally suspect. “Do you have the address?”
“Somewhere in my desk. I’ll hunt for it, but it will take a bit of time. Would you like some more shortbread?”
I decided I didn’t want Miss Eaton to see me here today. “No, thank you. I should be getting home before the trains get too crowded.”
“Very sensible. Never know what sort is hiding out in a crowd.”
I took a card out of my handbag. “If you think of anything, would you send word to me? I’ll call again sometime and see if I can find Miss Eaton in. No need to tell her I was here.”
“Won’t breathe a word of it. I’ll show you out.”
As I climbed down the three steps to the street, I decided on one more stop before I went home. Kleinman and Co. would be open for a little while longer, and I had plenty of time to get there and see what was going on. Maybe Inspector Wainwright had gotten something out of Miss Eaton, or had found some new clues, or something. As I started towards the Underground station, I saw someone who looked remarkably like Miss Eaton from behind getting out of a cab, but when I turned for a better look, all I could see was a midnight blue straw hat with a red carnation heading away from her building. I sighed. This case was getting to me. There would be no reason for her to walk away from her building. I hurried to the Underground.
When I got to the shop, it was still open and everyone looked like they were trying to carry on as usual. I spotted Mr. Garver behind the counter, watching two sets of customers who were looking at the next case over. “Miss Pengear. How nice to see you. Please pretend you’re buying a watch.”
“All right, I’ll look at that one.” I pointed to a random pocket watch in the case.
Mr. Garver took it out and went through the motions of showing it to me. “They’re just here to look. At us, not the jewelry. We must have been in all the papers. No sales today, but so many customers.”
“Who’s here today?”
“Miss Fairfield is supposed to be in later; Mr. Kleinman told her to stay home when it became clear no one was actually going to use our services. Miss Henderson is here. Miss Eaton was, but she ran off almost as soon as Inspector Wainwright arrived.”
“Where did she go?”
“Home, she said.”
So where was she really? “Where’s the inspector?”
Mr. Garver jerked his head towards the back room. “Miss Kleinman’s office.”
“Then I’ll just nip back and say hello.”
“If that’s what you want to do.” He shrugged in a way that said not to blame him when I regretted it.
Inspector Wainwright was looking particularly glowering as I went into the office.
“Were you able to find out what was inside?”
“What are you babbling about? Does this have something to do with Lady Suffolk?”
“Didn’t you get my note? Didn’t you go and talk to her?”
“Of course I didn’t go to talk to her. There’s a formal complaint filed against me by Lady Suffolk, saying she was being harassed. I don’t think I’ve ever spoken to Lady Suffolk. I'm being told the stolen necklace is a minor case. A 160-carat star sapphire is stolen, and it’s turning into a minor case. Why do I think you’re involved in this?”
I tried to change the subject. “Have you spoken to Miss Fairfield or Constable Kittering?”
“I have been here all day except for half-an-hour when I should have been eating lunch but instead was receiving a formal reprimand.”
“Then you didn’t speak to Mrs. O’Connell, Miss Eaton’s landlady?”
Inspector Wainwright started to rub his neck, and I was tempted to offer him a headache powder except I knew he would think I was teasing when I was serious. “Quickly, Miss Pengear, what kind of a mess have you gotten me into?”
“Which would you like first? That the Heart of Night was a fake and Lady Suffolk knows, or that Miss Eaton has a second fiancé?”
Inspector Wainwright closed his eyes. “Miss Pengear, I―”
But I never got to hear which he was going to choose. I'd left the door open a crack, but now someone was slowly pushing it into the room.
Inspector Wainwright glared at the door. “I am with a suspect.”
I turned around and saw Mr. Kleinman poke his head around the door. I hadn’t heard him approach, and that made me wonder if he’d been at the door the whole time, listening. Maybe now I would find out what was really going on. I tried to distract Inspector Wainwright before he scared Mr. Kleinman away. “So I’m a suspect now?”
“Miss Pengear―”
I ignored him and stood up. “Here, Mr. Kleinman, make yourself comfortable and tell us what you know. I’ll fix you a cup of tea.”
“Thank you, Miss Pengear. I really didn’t mean any harm, I promise. But it was such an interesting opportunity.”
“Miss Pengear, questioning a witness should be a private matter.”
“Then I’ll close the door for you.” I doubted he would throw me bodily out of the room at this point, so I closed the door with me on the proper side as far as I was concerned―Inspector Wainwright would have objected of course―and went back to fixing the tea.
Mr. Kleinman sank into a chair. “When Lady Suffolk approached me, I thought it was a harmless deception on her husband.” Mr. Kleinman was addressing his confession to me, so I knew Inspector Wainwright would have enough sense to let me stay. I stopped fiddling with the cup and brought it to Mr. Kleinman.
“Of course you did. Just tell us what the arrangement was. I’m sure there was nothing wrong about it.”
“The Heart of Night isn’t real. Not this one, anyway. Lady Suffolk told me when she asked me to take it for her, but to keep that a secret. At first I thought she had sold off the original and wanted that fact kept from her husband, but then she seemed like such an upstanding lady, I realized they might not be in the sound financial straits they appeared, and perhaps he had sold it to keep the family afloat. My deception was simply to help them keep up appearances.”
“And that is why you did not wish to take out insurance on the piece?” Inspector Wainwright asked.
“That’s right. I knew the insurance appraiser would see right through it.”
“But in the end you did get the insurance.”
“After the robbery, Deborah was getting so insistent, I approached Lady Suffolk and explained the situation to her. She agreed that it would seem more suspicious if we didn’t after so many break-ins. I was worried she would take back the necklace and say she no longer trusted us, but she just told me to do my best with the insurance man.”
Inspector Wainwright sighed. “Who else knew the piece was worthless?”
“No one in the shop.”
“Does that include Miss Kleinman?”
“It does.”
Inspector Wainwright nodded. His theory still held. It didn’t matter what the necklace was worth as long as Miss Kleinman thought it was valuable.
I leaned in. “Why on earth didn’t you tell her?”
Inspector Wainwright opened his mouth to snap at me, but Mr. Kleinman answered before he could. “Lady Suffolk said not to tell anyone, and I took my promise to her seriously.”
“But she’s your sister and your business partner.”
“Well, obviously I wish I’d made different choices now, but at the time it seemed the most prudent course of action. Deborah does ask a lot of questions, you see, and Lady Suffolk was paying us rather well for keeping it, as well as she would have had it been the real thing.”
So not money troubles, then.
“Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Mr. Kleinman. I can stop my men from looking for the missing piece as it is not actually missing.”
“You won’t say, I mean, Lady Suffolk...”
“You may leave, Mr. Kleinman.”
I knew Inspector Wainwright would have no sympathy for Lady Suffolk’s financial matters. “Naturally he won’t, Mr. Kleinman. If it became widely known that the stone was worthless, the thieves would simply move on and become harder to catch.” I wasn’t quite sure why that would be true, but I was hoping it would intrigue Inspector Wainwright enough that he would stay quiet on the subject of the necklace until I could decide whether or not to try to help Mr. Kleinman over it. “One more question, though.”
Mr. Kleinman stopped. I could feel Inspector Wainwright glaring at my back, but I was surprised when he asked it before I could. “How did you get Mr. Tolland to agree to it?”
“I didn’t. I didn’t have time to talk to him. I was going to catch him before Deborah got to the shop and beg him to go along with it. I was going to ask him to forget to file the paperwork until the end of the month when it would be gone and not our problem anymore, but the police came to question me before I left, and I ended up quite late.”
I stared at the edge of the desk. “And yet Mr. Tolland agreed with the description of the necklace that he’d been told. I wonder why.”
“I assumed that Lady Suffolk spoke to him after I met with her and made the arrangements.”
I could still feel Inspector Wainwright glaring, but I pressed on. “Did she know he was the one dealing with your policy?”
“She knew the company we were dealing with. I’m sure she was able to obtain the information from them.”
I wasn’t as sure myself. Certainly Lady Suffolk had a title and was somewhat of a force in social circles, but insurance companies did have the privacy and security of their customers to consider.
Inspector Wainwright jumped in before I could get any more ideas. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Kleinman. Good day.”
Mr. Kleinman stood. I waited for him to ask if he could go see his sister, but he did not.
When Mr. Kleinman had left, Inspector Wainwright turned to me. “That is all, Miss Pengear.”
“Mr. Tolland wasn’t told beforehand.”
“What makes you so certain?”
“Remember, I was typing up the forms. I saw him examine the stone. I didn’t realize it at the time, but he knew something was off, just not what it was.”
“And you could tell?”
“He looked confused, and then he tried lenses I hadn’t seen him try before. Yes, I’m certain.”
Inspector Wainwright scribbled something in his notebook. “That will be all, Miss Pengear.”
“Let me get you some tea.”
He rolled his eyes, but apparently my observation had been helpful since he didn't tell me to leave again as he picked up the telephone. As I poured out, I listened to him ask for Mr. Tolland and tell him there was a matter with the insurance policy he wished to discuss. The last thing he said was, “Fifteen minutes will be fine.”
So I only had to waste fifteen minutes before Mr. Tolland would be here. But I didn’t think I could manage to drag out fixing tea for that long. I was attempting to devise a plan involving setting up the display room for typing as a diversion so that Mr. Tolland would be relaxed and Inspector Wainwright could spring the questions on him. But it was becoming unnecessarily complex, particularly since I was certain Inspector Wainwright merely intended to question him directly and would never go along with it when my only argument for the complexity was that it would allow me to stay when he wanted me gone, when the door opened again, slowly, tentatively, like the person on the other side didn’t want to come in. I saw Inspector Wainwright tense in his chair, ready to spring and give chase if the person outside decided against entering.