A Crimson Warning

32

I’d invited Ivy and Jeremy to come for breakfast and a council of war; I wanted to discuss all that we’d learned after we’d split up in the afternoon. Jeremy was much put out, insisting he couldn’t be anywhere before two o’clock in the afternoon, but managed to drag himself out of bed, and at nine o’clock, the four of us were seated comfortably around the table. The breakfast room looked over the garden, but there was no view today. The rain, which had started while we were in the park the day before, had grown heavier overnight, and now showed no signs of stopping. Fog and clouds socked in the town, and all we could see out the rain-streaked windows was a heavy gray mist.

Ivy poured milk in her tea and stirred it. “We spent a very strange afternoon with Winifred. I’m afraid, Colin, that we may need to intervene soon.”

“Why is that?”

“She told us about Mr. Stanbury’s scandal,” Ivy said. “Before the paper came out.”

“I don’t like the woman at all,” Jeremy said. “She gives me the willies. If you could have heard the glee in her tone as she told us.”

“It was disturbing,” Ivy said. “Jeremy did an admirable job of keeping her distracted, though. I’ve brought a sample of her wax.” She stood up and went to the sideboard, where we’d spread out our other clues. I followed her.

“An exact match,” I said.

“I can’t say I’m surprised,” Ivy said, her voice a bare whisper. “Winifred’s growing more and more fixated on people and their secrets. She…”

“What?” Colin asked.

“… she told us she’s keeping a list. A list of people and their secrets. She said she’s going to make sure they’re all exposed.” Ivy’s hands trembled as she sat back down and picked up her teacup.

“Ivy, did she confess anything to you?” Colin asked.

“No,” Ivy said. “But I wouldn’t be more alarmed if she had than I am now. I was surprised she spoke so freely in front of Jeremy.”

“I’m not,” he said. “She took it as an opportunity to warn me off bad behavior.”

“I can’t believe I’ve been so naïve, thinking she ever had my best interests at heart,” Ivy said. “This is an obsession for her, not a kindness.”

I reached for her hand and held it. “You always see the best in people, Ivy, and that’s a wonderful quality.”

“I was stupid,” she said.

“I don’t think so,” Jeremy said. “If anything, your charming habit of adoring everyone around you is endearing. I may throw Emily over for you.”

“You’ve done excellent work, Ivy,” Colin said. “And if you hadn’t accepted Mrs. Harris—and her faults—as a friend, we wouldn’t know to suspect her now. Emily, share with us what you learned from Mr. Foster yesterday.”

I relayed to them the details of our conversation.

“I don’t trust him at all,” Ivy said. “He’s such an appearance of goodness, yet he’s got better motive than anyone else.”

“It’s never wise to trust someone who looks good,” Jeremy said.

“I can’t say I’m sure what I think about him,” I said.

“What about Mr. Barnes?” Colin asked. “He admits he put together the bottle.”

“For Mr. Dillman,” I said.

“What if he learned that Mr. Dillman was trying to destroy Mr. Foster?” Ivy asked. “He could have left the bottle on Mr. Dillman’s step in an attempt to make him stop.”

“It’s possible,” Colin said. “Barnes wouldn’t have had such an easy time getting the respect he has if he didn’t have Foster’s backing.”

“So they both have motive for wanting to keep those papers hidden,” I said. “But Winifred Harris would have no such compunction. If anything, she’d want to expose them.”

“Could she have killed Dillman in an attempt to get them?” Jeremy asked.

Ivy cringed. “I cannot believe her capable of that.”

“I’ve gone through all the files in painful detail,” Colin said. “We don’t seem to be missing anything. None of our three has a credible alibi for the murders—they were all in London at the time and not indisposed. They each have motive, and they each have the ability to move around with enough freedom to have given them opportunity.”

“Our villain, whomever he or she may be, is exceedingly clever,” Ivy said. “Look at all he’s done without leaving any real clues to his identity.”

“It’s true,” Colin said. “You’d think he would slip up eventually and reveal something.”

“He’s like you,” I said. “Maddeningly calm in the face of adversity.”

“Perhaps I’m your villain,” he said.

“No, I don’t like you for it,” I said. “You’re too fond of architecture to go around vandalizing people’s houses.”

“That’s quite a vote of confidence,” he said.

Jeremy sighed. “I don’t suppose it ever crossed your mind to suspect me?”

“No,” we all said in unison.

“Another crushing disappointment.”

“I’m sure you’ll recover unscathed,” I said. “And if you don’t, we’ll have to soothe you later. There’s no time now. What we need at the moment is to incite in our villain an emotion strong enough to cause him to make a mistake, preferably one that will lead us to Lady Glover.”

“How do we do that?” Ivy asked.

“I’m not sure yet,” I said. “But take Mr. Foster, for example. Whatever we did would need to have something to do with elections—they’re the one thing that made him lose his composure. I’m inclined to see what his thoughts are on fraud in such circumstances.”

“Mr. Barnes?”

“He’s knowledgeable about Obeah,” Colin said, “and wouldn’t have remembered how to cast an appropriate spell after all these years away from the culture unless he believed in it at least a little bit. What, in a similar vein, might frighten him into thinking someone is after him? If he’s guilty, he couldn’t help but react.”

“Mrs. Harris deserves a measure of her own medicine,” Jeremy said. “Perhaps we need her to think she’s been beaten at her own game.”

“Find out her secret and expose it?” I asked.

“Precisely,” he said.

“There may be something there,” Ivy said. “But we should focus on Winifred’s attempt to blackmail Lady Glover. Nothing she’s hiding could be worse than facing imprisonment for extortion, and we wouldn’t have to dig around in search of some unknown fact about her.”

“That’s good thinking, Ivy. Do you think Lord Glover would let us search the house?” I asked Colin. “I can’t imagine his wife didn’t keep some sort of evidence against Mrs. Harris.”

“She’s far too smart to have neglected that,” he said. “I can speak to Glover, but I think it would be preferable if you did the actual searching. I don’t want to rifle through her belongings.”

“Why not?”

“It would be more seemly for a lady to do that, don’t you think? Or, if you’re ever under suspicion, should I send a burly policeman to go through your bedroom?”

“Fair enough,” I said. “So that leaves Mr. Foster and Mr. Barnes. I’d like to take Foster as I suspect you, Colin, have an inclination to protect him?”

“I’m not ashamed to admit it,” he said. “And will be desperately disappointed if I have to acknowledge murder as one of his sins.”

“At least you’re admitting he sins,” I said. “I’ll consider that a step in the right direction.”

“You’re awfully hard on him,” Ivy said. “He’s the one who helped you in Westminster.”

“If he were prime minister, you’d have a much better chance at making real progress towards winning the vote for women,” Colin said.

“I wouldn’t want his help if he’s as bad as those papers suggest.”

“I don’t want to get distracted arguing politics right now,” he said. “But would you really rather hold back equal rights for women than let slide some accusations that can’t be sufficiently proven?”

“I’d wager that they could be sufficiently proven if you were willing to thoroughly investigate them,” I said.

“I don’t agree.”

“I see your point,” I said. “But I still can’t concur. I don’t want to support a crooked politician just because he supports my cause.”

“No one has proven him crooked.”

“As I said, no one has bothered to try. Except perhaps Mr. Dillman. And we all know how that turned out.”