Ginger Gold Mystery Box Set 3 Read online

  Ginger laughed. “Well, yes, there’s Louisa. She’s given up on Feathers & Flair.”

  “Already?”

  Ginger nodded. “I wish I could pack her up in a trunk myself and ship her back to her mother. That sounds unloving of me, doesn’t it?”

  Haley chuckled. “It sounds sane of you.”

  “I’m astonished that Sally is so keen to get her back.”

  “There’s no accounting for a mother’s love.”

  “Dear me,” Ginger said with a grin, “we sound cruel.”

  “You’re right,” Haley said. “Let’s change the subject. How did your enquiries go yesterday? I’m sorry I couldn’t assist. Who did you end up seeing?”

  “Miss Blythe and Mr. Piper. I confess to visiting Miss Blythe with the intention of talking her out of the wedding.”

  “I sense a ‘but’.”

  “Well, I failed on that account, but there was just something not quite right about her. When she first started spending time with Oliver, she was happy, more relaxed. Now she seems really wound up about something, something more than just her forthcoming nuptials.”

  “Guilt?” Haley said. “Do you think she pushed Mr. Edwards over the rail?”

  “Perhaps he’d been giving her unwanted attention, maybe threatening to stop the wedding.”

  “Why would he do that?” Haley said. “Surely not to have her to himself. The fact that he was a married man notwithstanding, there are plenty of young girls to prey on.”

  “Predators like that can become obsessive, I believe.”

  Haley conceded. “That’s true. Especially if what they desire becomes out of reach. A mentally unstable person might not even desire the object until it’s unavailable to them.”

  Ginger casually stroked Boss’ forehead as she considered Haley’s words. “It could explain why Mary’s mood had altered so much recently. She was quite determined to go through with the wedding, and if Mr. Edwards was a problem. . . ”

  “It comes down to intent at this point,” Haley said. “Was it an impulse attack, or did she plan ahead?”

  “Mary knew the schedule, and she was suspiciously late.”

  “Definitely a suspect,” Haley said. “Up there with Miss Howard and Miss Bertram, who also had reasons to remove Mr. Edwards from this earth. Tell me about Mr. Piper.”

  Ginger sipped her brandy and let out a long breath. There was no getting around telling Haley about Basil being there.

  “Now isn’t that a coincidence?” Haley said wryly.

  “It was! There was no way he could’ve known I was going to be at the mental hospital at that time. Otherwise I would’ve accused him of following me.”

  “Except that he was there first.”

  “Except for that.”

  “Was he useful, at least?”

  “His identification papers got us past the gatekeeper, where I would’ve surely been turned away.”

  Haley nodded in approval.

  “Mr. Piper reluctantly revealed that Miss Catherine Edwards was once an inmate there.”

  Haley’s dark eyes widened with interest. “For what condition?”

  “Melancholia.”

  “Thankfully, there’ve been some advancements in treatments for the mentally infirm,” Haley said. “I’m afraid former treatments could be quite barbaric.”

  “Something happened to cause Catherine Edwards to beg her brother to discharge her. Apparently, she’d been doing quite well until that point. A painful treatment, perhaps?”

  “Likely. Poor thing. It might not be a good idea for her to be home alone.”

  “I’ll get Felicia and Louisa to pop in to see her,” Ginger said. “They need something worthwhile to do.”

  “Two peas in a pod, those ones,” Haley said.

  “Basil thinks Mrs. Edwards is guilty.”

  “Then why go to the trouble of interviewing everyone?”

  Ginger smirked. “In case he’s wrong. He wouldn’t want me to uncover that fact, now, would he?”

  “So, you’ll continue your tandem investigation?”

  “It would seem so.”

  “You don’t find it too awkward?” Haley asked. “Just yesterday you could barely mention his name without turning red as a beet.”

  “That’s not true!”

  “It is!”

  “Well, I was fine in his presence today. We were friendly.”

  Haley’s brow shot up. “Friendly?”

  “Yes, friendly. I suppose you could say we are friends again. But that’s all we’re to be,” Ginger insisted. “As you know, I’m walking out with Captain Beale.”

  “Yes, but you’re not in love with him.”

  “I know. That’s why I can trust him with my heart. He can’t break it.”

  Haley stared at Ginger over the rim of her crystal glass. “If you say so.”

  Ginger roused Boss awake and put him on the floor. He stretched and trotted over to his bed beside the hearth which was still orange with a small fire.

  “I need to get ready for tonight’s gala at the Ritz. Are you sure you don’t want to come?”

  Haley snorted. “And face the judgmental glares of the snooty upper-upper class? I’d rather perform an autopsy on myself. Besides, I’m exhausted.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Lords and ladies—sirs and honorables, barons, dukes and even a prince—were present at the high society gala event at the Ritz Hotel. The ornate room had a multitude of electric chandeliers hanging from high ceilings trimmed in gold moulding. Gentlemen in tailored black suits, crisp white shirts, and black bow ties, and ladies in sparkly gowns and lavish jewellery swirled around the marble dance floor. Potted palm trees flanked the impressive stage now occupied by a nine-piece string and brass band playing the latest in jazz, waltz, and blues.

  This was a world far removed from the one Ginger was acquainted with at St. George’s Church. The parishioners there were commoners, unrefined, and for the most part undereducated. Her friendship with Oliver was the conduit responsible for folding her life into the lives of the poorer classes—a result of her concern for Scout Elliot, now her ward, when he was living like an orphan on the streets. Ginger admitted that her life felt richer now for having known Oliver and the people in his care.

  Ambrosia, Felicia, and Louisa were in their glory, dressed in the latest fashions straight from the racks of Feathers & Flair.

  William extended his hand to Ginger in his offer to take to the dance floor. “Shall we?”

  Ginger accepted with a sincere smile. William looked dashing in his black suit and tie, shiny leather shoes, and with his face freshly shaven. A recent haircut had even managed to control his waves.

  Ginger wore a sheer, emerald-green, crepe de chine sleeveless evening gown, loose fitting over a shorter green rayon slip. Her long white gloves reached her elbows, and her headpiece sparkled. Together she knew they were a striking pair.

  William was a fair dancer. Not quite as natural as Basil—but she mustn’t think of him. It would be terrifically unfair to William, who stared at her with unabashed admiration.

  “How lucky am I to be dancing with the prettiest lady in the room?”

  Ginger didn’t even blush. She’d heard similar sentiments from other dance partners in the past. The compliment was hardly unique and was probably spoken tonight by many of the gentlemen in the room to their well-dressed dance partners.

  “Perhaps I am the lucky one, Captain Beale,” she returned.

  Captain Beale led her in gracious circles around the ballroom. “Together we are the luckiest of them all.”

  They returned to their table when the dance ended in time to overhear the tail end of an ungenerous conversation.

  “I heard she slurps her soup.”

  “I wouldn’t doubt it. Perhaps she is adopted.”

  Haley had been right about there being snooty gossipers in the crowd; however, the judgements were coming from Ginger’s own family!

  “Felicia, about whom are you
speaking?” Ginger asked, then she put up a palm. “No, don’t tell me. I don’t want to be guilty of defamation.”

  Ginger sipped her champagne, enjoying the tickle of the bubbles down her throat and the lightness it brought to her mood. She smiled at William, but his eyes had focused on something behind her, and whatever he saw caused a dark cloud to shroud his face.

  “What is it?” Ginger asked as she turned in her chair, and then her heart stammered. “Oh.”

  Basil Reed looked dapper in his black suit ensemble: crisp white shirt, white satin waistcoat, and black bow tie. The lines around his eyes and mouth made him look mysterious and intriguing, and the bit of grey at his temples, distinguished. Ginger wasn’t the only female in the room captivated by London’s recent, most eligible bachelor. Every lady was staring, including those at her own table.

  “Blimey,” Felicia muttered.

  “Language, Felicia!” Ambrosia chastised. “You are a lady.”

  “Well, isn’t he just the bee’s knees?” Louisa said dreamily. “If you don’t want him, Ginger, can I have him?”

  Ginger glared at her sister. “Don’t be crass. Besides he’s much too old for you.”

  Louisa sniffed. “No older than father was than mother.”

  Oh, mercy.

  Ginger forced herself to keep her gaze averted. William reached for her hand and gripped it tightly.

  “What on earth is he doing here?” he said seriously. “Isn’t a police officer getting a bit above his station attending a gala like this?”

  William sounded exactly like the haughty, judgmental people Haley had dismissed.

  “Basil is a gentleman,” Ginger explained. “His father is the Honourable Henry Reed.”

  “What’s he doing at the Yard, then?” William said sounding incredulous.

  “Basil was invalided out of the war early on. He felt that serving in the Metropolitan Police was a good way for him to do his bit, and he just stayed on.”

  “But why?”

  “It makes him feel like he’s contributing to society.” Ginger’s annoyance grew with William’s insensitive questioning. “Is that so hard to understand?”

  William sat back without answering and took a long pull of his gin and tonic.

  The sensual classical notes of Blue Rhapsody began, and William turned to Ginger. “Another dance?”

  She answered politely, “One cannot say no to Gershwin.”

  Ginger allowed William to lead her back to the dance floor. They’d barely made a turn when Ginger felt a tap on her shoulder.

  “May I cut in?”

  Basil Reed stood tall. His hands were clasped in front of him and his eyes longingly locked on Ginger.

  “We’ve only just started, ol’ chap,” William said tersely.

  “I’m asking the lady,” Basil said without removing his gaze from her.

  Ginger stammered. “I-it’s all right William. We mustn’t be rude. It’s just one dance.”

  William’s face turned an unappealing shade of red as he released Ginger’s hand and stormed off the floor.

  “I’m afraid I’ve created an unenviable situation for you,” Basil said as he pulled Ginger close. His nearness was intoxicating, and her knees felt as if they had pooled with water.

  “You did make quite an impression,” she said. “I didn’t think these kinds of events were of much interest to you.”

  “Yes, well, I’ve heard this is where the beautiful ladies could be found. I’m single now, as you know.”

  “I’m sure all of London knows it,” Ginger said cheerlessly. William certainly was aware of it. “So why aren’t you dancing with some of the other ladies?”

  Basil’s eyes were pools of emotion. “I think you know.”

  Oh, mercy!

  Inhaling deeply, Ginger was determined not to allow Basil’s charms to have an impact on her. A drastic change in subject was in order.

  “Haley and I came up with a new theory regarding Miss Blythe. Like Miss Howard and Miss Bertram, Mary Blythe is young and pretty. And impressionable. Perhaps Theo Edwards had set his sights on her. It’s possible he’d become obsessed, and perhaps had some ammunition with which to cause a scandal and interrupt her marriage to Oliver.”

  “It’s an interesting theory,” Basil said. “However, her marriage was prevented by Theo Edwards’ death.”

  “Only temporarily,” she answered. “It’s being rescheduled.”

  “We can’t forget Mr. Piper,” Basil returned.

  Ginger risked looking Basil straight in the eye. “Do you think an obsession by Mr. Piper with Mrs. Edwards is more likely?”

  Basil spun Ginger around. “I think Mrs. Edwards’ guilt in the matter is more likely. Humiliated women have been murdering their husbands throughout time.”

  “Yes, but poison is usually more to their liking,” Ginger said. “This murder is quite physical.”

  “Which takes us back to Mr. Piper.”

  “Yes, I suppose you’re right.”

  Ginger allowed herself to relax into Basil’s lead, appreciating how enjoyable it was to dance with someone at his level of skill. Her mind went back to the last time they’d danced together in the sitting room of Basil’s townhouse. They’d dance to Isham Jones’ “Swinging Down the Lane,” cheek to cheek, hearts beating wildly as one. They’d declared their love for one another.

  She’d just given him a gift—the Waterhouse painting of The Mermaid, which had, for years, hung above the mantel of the fireplace in the sitting room at Hartigan House. Its value went beyond its financial worth into the sentimental. It was a gesture she’d come to regret, and the space above the hearth still remained empty.

  Their bodies moved in time to the music, effortlessly, as if they were one and not two. They stared at each other without speaking, the whole affair feeling intensely intimate. Ginger noticed that other dancers and those standing on the edges or seated at the tables had started to watch. What Ginger and Basil had on the dance floor felt whimsical and magical.

  Until William strode across the room like the navy captain that he was and broke the spell.

  “I’m cutting in, Mr. Reed,” he stated, bringing the couple to a standstill. “Ginger, allow me to finish the dance.”

  “William, don’t be silly. You’re making a scene.”

  “I’m making a scene? Everyone is watching you. And even if I am,” William added indignantly, “I feel it’s my right to.”

  “Captain Beale,” Basil said. “Lady Gold has made her desire known. We shall finish the dance.”

  “Since you’re not moving your feet, I’d say, you’ve already finished.”

  Basil answered coolly, “I say we’re not.”

  William stood nose to nose with Basil, his fists clenched at his side. “Shall we take this outside?”

  Ginger couldn’t believe it. “William!”

  William ignored her. “As men. Not as captain or chief inspector.”

  Basil remained calm. “If you like.”

  Ginger returned to her table to collect her things with as much dignity as she could muster. Never in her life had she been the object of such a juvenile fight of words for her attention, and she wasn’t about to wait around to watch words come to fists. As it was, the gossipers tittered. She should’ve taken her cues from Haley and stayed at home.

  Chapter Twenty

  “A few, we hear, add up.” Ginger sipped her breakfast tea as she read aloud the crossword puzzle clue from the Boston newspaper she subscribed to. It came several days late, but Ginger liked to keep abreast of what was going on in her American hometown. Haley appreciated the updates as well.

  “Sum,” Haley said as she bit into a croissant.

  “What are you two talking about?” Felicia said. She arrived to breakfast wearing her silk oriental house gown, a habit Ambrosia frowned deeply upon. Perhaps since she’d just spooned hot porridge into her mouth, Ambrosia kept her opinion to herself.

  “It’s a play on words,” Ginger explained. “
A few equals ‘some,’ and when you add numerical values together you get the three-letter homonym, ‘sum.’”

  Felicia’s eyebrows furrowed together. “Too early in the morning for me to care.”

  “It’s almost nine,” Ginger shot back.

  Louisa dragged herself in with a yawn and helped herself to the bounty cooked earlier by Mrs. Beasley. “Weren’t you a lump of coal last night?” she said to Ginger. “Leaving early, and in a very impolite manner, I might add.”

  “It’s the ongoing saga between Ginger and Basil,” Felicia said between mouthfuls of scrambled egg. “Will they or won’t they?”

  “Felicia!” Ginger said with abhorrence.

  “It’s true. I for one wish you’d just make up your mind and get on with it. It’s getting tiresome.”

  “Pick William, and leave Basil for me,” Louisa said.

  Ginger snapped the newspaper dramatically before folding it closed. “That’s Captain Beale and Chief Inspector Reed to you.”

  Ambrosia patted her mouth with a cotton napkin. “For once I agree with Felicia. It’s very unbecoming of you to lead both of them on.”

  “I’m not leading anyone on!” Ginger turned to Haley. “Please, do come to my defence.”

  Haley wisely shook her head. “Nope. I consider myself intelligent enough to stay out of the Gold family matters, especially when it comes to matters of the heart.”

  “Sometimes I despise you,” Ginger said with a grin.

  “Sometimes you envy me,” Haley countered.

  “Truer words have not been spoken.” Ginger sipped her tea then asked Haley, “I’m going to visit Catherine Edwards after this. Would you like to come with me?”

  “Actually, I can. My shift today doesn’t start until noon.”

  “Perfect.”

  Boss was outside with Scout going for the dog’s morning constitutional, so Ginger popped into the kitchen to let Lizzie know she was leaving soon. “I’m afraid I can’t take Boss with me.”

  “That’s fine, madam. I’m happy to look after the little chap for you.”

  “Thank you, Lizzie.”

  Ginger really didn’t like to leave Boss at home so much, but when she was working on a difficult case, she often didn’t have the choice. Lizzie had proven to be not only an excellent lady’s maid, but also a good chaperone for Boss and Scout.