Mrs. Jeffries & the Silent Knight by Emily Brightwell (black female authors .TXT) 📕

one of the maids keeping a close eye on her. Being dishonest with her doesn’t

really feel right, but I don’t know what else to do. Madam’s

health must be my first concern, and if she knew about the

case, she’d refuse to stay inside.”

“If she continues to improve, perhaps you can tell her

about the murder in a day or two,” Mrs. Jeffries suggested.

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She glanced at the clock on the sideboard and noted that it

was getting late.

Smythe caught her eye. “Before we leave, there is one

thing I forgot to mention.” He told them what he’d heard

from Blimpey. When he’d finished, they all stared at him.

“Cor blimey, that could be a motive for murder,” Wiggins exclaimed.

“It could be,” Smythe said slowly, “but then again, all the

daughters in that household is a bit long in the tooth. What

good would ‘avin’ a title do any of them if they couldn’t pass

it on to their children? Whoever inherits it has to wait until

the other two sisters are dead, and unless one of them is a

killer, the deaths of the other two might take years.”

“Unless the crown gives one of the surviving daughters

the title,” Hatchet said softly. “If it’s not a title that goes

into abeyance, then the daughter that has some influence in

court circles might get it.”

“I wish we knew which kind of title it was,” Mrs. Jeffries

said. “That might make a huge difference in ascertaining

motive.”

“I think you can leave that up to me,” Hatchet said. “I

happen to have a good friend that’s an expert in peerage

matters.”

As Mrs. Jeffries had expected, Inspector Witherspoon arrived home quite late and utterly exhausted. “You do look tired, sir,” she said as she helped him off with his hat and

coat. “Would you like a sherry to relax, or would you prefer

to go straight in to dinner?”

“I should love a sherry,” he replied.

They went into the drawing room, and Witherspoon settled into his favorite chair as Mrs. Jeffries poured both of Mrs. Jeffries and the Silent Knight

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them a sherry. “Here you are, sir,” she said as she handed

him the small crystal glass.

“Thank you, Mrs. Jeffries.” He took a sip and closed his

eyes briefly as he relaxed. “Has there been any word on when

Lady Cannonberry might be returning?”

“Her butler mentioned to Wiggins that she hopes to be

home a day or two before Christmas,” she replied. “As we

discussed last month, sir, I invited her for Christmas dinner.”

“That’s excellent.” A blush crept up his cheeks. “I’ve

bought her a present, I do hope she likes it. It’s difficult

buying presents for ladies, isn’t it? One never knows what

they’ll like, what their tastes might be.”

“I’m sure your gift is lovely,” she said quickly. She didn’t

want to waste their time discussing the inspector’s relationship with their neighbor. That could wait till they didn’t have a murder. “You have such excellent taste.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Jeffries.” He took another sip of his

drink.

“How is the investigation going, sir?”

“It’s a bit of a muddle,” he sighed. “But I’m hoping it

will all sort itself out.”

“I’m sure it will, sir,” she said calmly. She wondered if he

needed a bit of confidence boosting. Sometimes he didn’t

feel he was up to the task at hand. “But you’ll find the killer.

You always do. Did the house-to-house turn up anything?”

“Not really. None of the neighbors saw or heard anything

that night. But as the murder happened at such an unusual

hour, I’m not surprised. Most people are sound asleep in the

middle of the night.” He told her everything he and Constable Barnes had learned that day.

Mrs. Jeffries listened carefully, storing all the information in the back of her mind and hoping that when the time 122

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was right, it would all make sense or fall into some sort of

pattern.

“But at least I managed to find out about the solicitors,”

he said. “Miss Nina Braxton sent for them as soon as she

found out her father was dead. She said she had to speak

with them about the funeral arrangements, but I’m not sure

I believe her. Generally, the lawyers don’t show up until after the funeral.”

“They don’t sound as if they are a very conventional family, sir,” she said. “What about the broker and the banker, sir? Did Miss Braxton have any idea why they’d been called

to the house.”

He frowned as he recalled his short conversation with

Nina Braxton. “She said she didn’t know, that it was odd because she took care of the finances.” He sighed again. “They are a most unusual family.”

“Indeed they are, sir,” Mrs. Jeffries agreed, “and obviously,

their eccentricities are well known. As soon as the neighborhood found out you had this case, I’ve been accosted half a dozen times today with gossip about the Braxtons.”

“Gracious, I do hope it isn’t distasteful for you.”

“Not at all, sir. As a matter of fact, I picked up a few tidbits that might be helpful to you.” She told him, in the most roundabout way, most of the information the household had learned in the past two days. “I know it’s just gossip, sir,” she finished, “but as you’ve always said, oftentimes a word here or there can point to the right direction.”

He nodded thoughtfully, and she could see he was thinking about much of what she’d just told him. Good. She wasn’t sure herself where they ought to be looking in this

case, but it never hurt to have all of them going in every direction for answers.

“I must say the most puzzling thing is the blood and tis

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sue in the greenhouse,” he frowned. “We’ve no idea how it

could have gotten there.”

“Blood and tissue?” she repeated.

“Oh, dear, I forgot to mention it, didn’t I?” He told her

about Constable Barnes’ discovery.

“And you had searched the entire conservatory for the

murder weapon?” she pressed.

He nodded. “Twice. It was given a good going-over the

first day we were there, and I had the lads go over it again

today after we found the bloodstain. Frankly, I’m a bit concerned about us missing the stain in the first place.”

“You said it was under a table,” she clarified. She wanted

to make sure she understood the entire