That night after dinner, when the card games in the drawing room broke up and everyone began to retire for the evening, Jasper and I left the room together. Once we’d climbed the stairs to the next floor and were alone in the long corridor, Jasper asked, “Any luck?”
“No, it was a complete washout for me.”
Jasper and I had decided to keep our discoveries about Bankston to ourselves for the moment. The police would arrive tomorrow, and we’d share what we’d found with them. Our plan for the evening had been to watch the interactions of the guests and try to glean any details we could about Bankston. We’d planned to divide and conquer, with Jasper concentrating on Tommy while I focused on Theo. However, I’d only had a chance to exchange a few words with him.
At dinner, I’d been seated between Jasper and Mr. Sprigg. I’d heard quite a bit about Mr. Sprigg’s London-based import-export business, but Theo and Francie were too far down the table for me to overhear their conversation. “I learned Mr. Sprigg didn’t know Theo before meeting him here. When I asked him about Culwell Luggage, Mr. Sprigg said, ‘Never heard of it—although I’ve become quite well acquainted with the man’s merchandise now.’”
In the drawing room after dinner, several couples had played bridge. I’d volunteered to join in, angling to be paired with Theo and Francie, but Mrs. Searsby had steered me to another table where I was Jasper’s partner in a game with Mr. Sprigg and Blix. Mr. Sprigg, who had been quite chatty with me at dinner, transferred his attention to Blix, complimenting her clever tactics. Blix was unfailingly polite, but her cool rejoinders conveyed that warmer attentions from Mr. Sprigg wouldn’t be welcomed. I’d suggested a change of partners, but Francie said she wanted to get Theo’s opinion on an antique trunk in the Oak Hall and whisked him away. “I had no luck at all with Theo. What about you?”
“I had a few moments to speak with Tommy when the gentlemen stayed behind in the dining room. He has a long scratch on his jaw. He says it’s from shaving, but it could have been made when he pushed through those holly bushes outside Bankston’s sitting room.”
“Interesting. Oh, I did sit with Miss Brinkle for a bit. She’d had several cocktails. In fact, it almost seemed as if she was celebrating. She was quite jolly by the end of the evening. I tried to ask her about Bankston, but she dodged the subject both times I brought it up. First, she wanted to know more about my deep interest in sundials”—I threw a look at Jasper, and he grinned—“but I managed to dodge the subject by asking her about her cocktails. Her all-time favorite is the Pink Lady, and she says people are ‘too precipice’ and dismiss it too quickly.”
“Falling off a cliff over it, are they? Conversation with Miss Brinkle is entertaining,” Jasper said, then turned more serious. “It’s not surprising she avoided the topic of Bankston. People wouldn’t want anyone else to know they’d been blackmailed. Of course they would keep quiet about it.”
As we came to a stop outside my door, Jasper looked at the ceiling. “I must see about having a sprig of mistletoe put up here.”
“That could be a very good idea.” There was no one else in the hallway, and I went up on my toes to plant a kiss on Jasper’s cheek. He slipped his arm around my back and held me close as he turned his face to me.
“That was nice. I think”—he looked away as if contemplating something grave like economic policy—“we should do that again.”
I matched his sober tone. “I agree.”
The sound of a throat clearing signaled that we weren’t alone, and we stepped apart.
Apparently, we’d shocked Mr. Eggers so much that we’d rendered him motionless. He’d played bridge at the other table and won every game. He’d looked quite pleased when we left the drawing room, but now his frown radiated disapproval, and he reminded me of my headmistress.
Jasper bowed. “Good evening, Mr. Eggers. I was telling Miss Belgrave goodnight. She’s an old family friend.”
Mr. Eggers sniffed, wished us goodnight, then moved with small mincing steps to the far side of the hallway as if we might contaminate him. I waited until the faint jingle of his watch chain had died away before I said, “What a prissy little man. He might as well be an old maid.”
“In case there are any more disapproving old biddies around, I bid you good night.” Jasper kept his gaze linked with mine as he kissed the back of my hand. Even though I was wearing gloves, it was extremely pleasant.
24 December 1923
The next morning before I came fully awake, I realized something was different. It took me a moment to work out what it was. A stillness permeated the house. The wind that had lashed the windows yesterday, rattling the panes, had disappeared. One set of drapes wasn’t completely closed, and a shining bar of light blazed across the bed. The bright luminescent quality of the single strip was enough to tell me that the snow hadn’t melted during the night.
A tap sounded on my door, and Laura came in with my cup of chocolate. “Good morning, Miss Belgrave.” She set down the tray and drew back the curtains. “It snowed all night, miss. It’s at least a foot deep now.”
“Goodness.”
“Makes it nice and Christmasy, doesn’t it? Cook said if it was to snow, she’d prefer it on Christmas Day, but I still think it’s nice.”
“That’s right. Today is Christmas Eve.” I propped myself up on my elbow so I could see out the windows, but they were fogged over, which distorted the view into an abstract picture of lines and curves. “And the roads?”
She shook her head. “Blocked with drifts. Mr. Ford went and checked at the gates. Up to his knees, it was. The girls who were to come in from the village to help today won’t be able to get here. Everything is at a standstill. Even the trains aren’t running today.”
Which meant that investigators from Scotland Yard wouldn’t make it either. “Is the telephone still working?”
“Yes, miss. As far as I know.”
I reached for my dressing gown. “Then I had better dress and make a telephone call right away in case it goes out.” I’d been so wrapped up in the events around Bankston’s death that all thoughts of traveling to Parkview had gone right out of my head. Gwen expected me to arrive today, which certainly wouldn’t happen.
Someone was splashing about in the adjoining bath, but they finished quickly and went out through the door that opened to the corridor. I washed, then Laura helped me into a velvet dress in a deep shade of green.
On my way down to breakfast, I met Mrs. Searsby in the hall. She carried a small basket, and the Jack Russell terrier and Labrador were at her heels. “Oh, you are awake. Good.” She walked down the stairs with me. “I wanted to make sure you’re still feeling well.”
Zeus zipped down the steps, his little terrier legs a blur. Apollo followed him at a chipper lope.
“I am.” I touched my forehead. I’d again combed my fringe down over the cut. It was tender and turning an unlovely shade of puce. Other than the unflattering color of the bruise, it wasn’t bothering me.
“I’m glad to hear it. You really mustn’t even consider leaving.” She motioned to the tall windows on the landing, which weren’t as foggy as those in my room. The view of the grounds showed a contrast of pure white layers of snow cut through with the sharp dark shadows from the bare tree limbs. “It would be foolish to attempt to drive, and the trains are canceled. You will stay on with us through Christmas, won’t you? There’s no chance of it melting by tomorrow.”
“I’d be delighted.”
“Good. That’s settled, then.”
“I’m so thankful that I landed here.”
“I consider it a happy coincidence, especially if you’re able to help sort out the trouble around Bankston. Any luck?”
“Nothing yet,” I hedged. I didn’t want to bring up Bankston’s possible blackmail activities unless we were sure it was connected to his death. “Do you mind if I use the telephone to contact Parkview Hall?”
“Of course not. It’s in the alcove outside the Oak Hall. Help yourself. You must let them know you’ve been delayed. Otherwise they’ll worry you’ve crashed into a snowdrift.” She half turned away, then said, “I almost forgot. Let me give you this.” She held out the basket. “A few things to make your stay more comfortable. All the guests receive them, so you must have one too.”
“Thank you. You’re too kind.” A card with my name written on it rested on top of several bars of lavender soap.
“Nonsense. I enjoy giving gifts. It’s one of the things that delights me.”
A footman walked by, toting an enormous ladder, and Zeus shot out after him. Mrs. Searsby called the little dog back. He wheeled around and zoomed back to her side. Apollo gamboled over and leaned against my leg while I rubbed his ears.
“We’re bringing in the tree today. I hope you’ll join us in the Oak Hall and help decorate it after luncheon.”
“Count me in,” I said.
“Wonderful. I’ll leave you to your telephone call, then.”
After listening to a series of clicks, pauses, and dead air followed by crackling static, I was connected with Parkview Hall. I explained what had happed, and Gwen’s voice, tinny and choppy, came over the line. “Not coming?”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do. I’m snowed in. Drifts blocking the road, and the trains have been canceled. It’s amazingly beautiful, though.”
“Sounds like a Christmas card, but I do hate for you to be stranded among strangers. Where did you say you were?”
“Holly Hill Lodge.” I gave her a brief, highly abridged recap of the last couple of days, and ended by saying, “And Jasper is here as well.”
“Jasper—!”
“And he’s still speaking to me—in quite a nice way, actually.”
She laughed. “Oh, I see how it is. Everything makes sense now. So your snooping worked out. Lucky you, snowed in with him. I won’t worry about you now. I’ll miss you, of course, and I expect you to come along to Parkview as soon as you can. In the meantime, I hope there’s plenty of mistletoe scattered throughout the house. Let us know when you’re arriving. Lucas’ parents are staying on until the new year, and Violet’s invited James to come up as well. They’re quite devoted to each other and can’t be apart for more than a few days. I hope you can make it.”
“I do too. I’ll do my best to be there.”
I returned to my room and unpacked the gifts from Mrs. Searsby’s basket. The envelope contained a Christmas card with a row of cottages, a match to the one propped on Bankston’s mantel. Mrs. Searsby had written a lovely welcoming note inside, and both she and her husband had signed it. I put it up on the mantel, just as Bankston had done, then I picked up the lavender soap and headed for the bath that adjoined my room, but I stopped short with my hand poised to knock before I entered. A sharp male voice sounded on the other side of the closed door. “Scotland Yard, Maggs! Scotland Yard.”
I pulled my hand back as I recognized Tommy’s voice.
“Keep your voice down,” a higher-pitched woman’s voice answered.
I felt my eyebrows shoot up. That was Madge. They were arguing in the bath! An image of Mr. Eggers’ disapproving face from last evening popped into my mind. If he were standing outside the door of the bath that opened to the hall, how scandalized he’d be—two single young people in there together! He’d probably faint dead away and require smelling salts.
Tommy’s voice was impatient. “That room is empty. No one is staying there. Forget about that. I don’t know why you can’t understand that I had to do something.”
“And a foolish thing it was. I told you I’d taken care of Bankston.”
The fine heating system of Holly Hill Lodge clicked on. I must not have closed the door between the bath and my room firmly enough. As soon as the air gusted out of the vents, the bath door swung open, releasing a waft of damp air scented with powder. Wearing only a slip, Madge stood in front of the basin holding a hairbrush. Tommy leaned against the tub in a brightly patterned dressing gown, smoking a cigarette.