Mrs. Jeffries Appeals the Verdict by Emily Brightwell (black authors fiction .TXT) 📗

to do with murder,” Blimpey sighed. “But Tommy

didn’t kill anyone. He lifted that watch off Keith Muran

earlier that evenin’. He used the old bump-and-run dodge.”

“How do you know?” Betsy asked. “I mean, if Tommy

had already been arrested when you returned from your

holiday, how do you know any of these details? I’m not trying to be rude, but it’s important for us to know how reliable our information is.”

“And you can’t see the police lettin’ me into Tommy’s

cell for a little chat, is that it?” Blimpey grinned and looked

at Smythe. “She’s not just pretty; she’s smart, too. You’d

best hang onto this one, Smythe.”

“You don’t ’ave to tell me that,” the coachman replied.

“She’s got a good point.”

“Course she does, and her askin’ it makes me all the

more glad I come to you. It shows ya all know what you’re

about.” Blimpey sobered. “Tommy didn’t tell me any of this

directly. I got it from one of my sources who’s managed to

make contact with Tommy in the nick. He’s a reliable fellow. Used to be a solicitor, so you’ve no worry about the details. They’re correct.”

“Yes, of course, I’m sure your man is quite dependable.

Do go on,” Mrs. Jeffries urged.

“Well, as I was sayin’, Tommy lifted the watch, but

Tommy’s mother took sick when he got home that night so

he didn’t fence the goods till almost two weeks later.”

“Which gave the police plenty of time to have a description of the stolen items circulated to every constable in the city,” Mrs. Jeffries mused.

22

Emily Brightwell

“That’s right.” Blimpey took a quick sip of tea. “And it

led ’em straight to poor Tommy.”

“What else have your sources told you about the case?”

Mrs. Goodge asked.

Blimpey thought for a moment. “Are you wantin’ details

of the crime or the case in general?”

“Either,” the cook replied.

“Caroline Muran was practically a saint; she treated the

workers at her factory decently, her servants loved her,

and no one seems to have had a reason to want her dead.”

“Who inherits her estate?” Mrs. Jeffries wanted to get to

the heart of the matter. In her experience, which was quite

extensive, she’d discovered that people killed for money,

love, or vengeance. Sometimes all three.

“Her husband,” Blimpey replied.

“What about her children?” Betsy asked.

“They didn’t have any. Caroline Muran was forty-two,

but she only married about five years ago. He was a widower and he’d no children, either.”

“So he’s the sole heir?” the housekeeper pressed.

“There was a brother, but he was killed while traveling

in America. He was a bit of ne’er-do-well, if you know

what I mean.”

“I don’t understand how Mrs. Muran ended up shot and

Mr. Muran only got a cosh on the head,” Wiggins said.

“That don’t seem right.”

“That’s one of the things I’m hoping you lot will find

out.” Blimpey put his mug down on the table. “I take it this

means you’ll help.”

“We’ll do the best we can,” Mrs. Jeffries replied softly.

“But we’re not making any promises.”

“Fair enough.” He grinned broadly. “I’ll make it worth

your while.”

“There’s no need for that,” Mrs. Jeffries said. “As I said,

your poor friend may face the gallows despite our best efforts. We’ve not long. The execution is scheduled for April Mrs. Jeffries Appeals the Verdict

23

ninth and it’s already March twentieth. We’ll have to work

fast.”

“I’ve every faith in ya.” Blimpey took out his watch.

“Now, unless you’ve something else to ask me, I’d best be

off.”

Mrs. Jeffries looked around the table. “Does anyone have

any questions?”

“I’m sure I’ll have some later,” Wiggins said. “But right

now, I can’t think of anything.”

No one else could, either, so Blimpey took his leave.

Smythe walked him to the back door. “This was a bit of a

surprise,” he whispered.

“Sorry.” Blimpey grinned apologetically. “But I was in a

bit of a hurry, mate. I didn’t mean to spring this on ya.” He

kept his voice low.

Smythe reached for the doorknob. “No ’arm done. I

don’t think the others suspect we’re more than just casual

acquaintances.”

“More importantly, your lady doesn’t know the truth.

She’s a right beauty, Smythe. How’d a ’ard old dog like

you got a lovely like that is beyond me.”

As Smythe frequently wondered the same thing, he

shrugged. “Just lucky I guess.” He opened the door and the

two men stood in the hallway staring out at the downpour.

“You’re going to get soaked to the skin.”

“Not to worry.” Blimpey wound his scarf high around

his throat. “Nell will have something nice and hot waiting

for me when I get home. You come along and see me soon.

I’ve a few bits and pieces I didn’t share with the others.”

“Why’d you do that?”

“You’re one of my best customers. I had to save a few

things for you. I can’t have your mates thinkin’ poorly of

your detective skills. See ya tomorrow then.” He stepped out

into the rain and hurried off in the direction of the garden

gate.

Smythe didn’t know whether to be insulted or pleased.

24

Emily Brightwell

They were waiting for him when he got back to the

kitchen. “ ’E’s gone,” he said as he slipped into his spot next

to Betsy. “What do we do now?”

“I’m not sure,” Mrs. Jeffries mused. “This is so different from our usual case.”

“Do you really think so,” Mrs. Goodge said in a tone

that was more of a comment than a question.

“Don’t you?” the housekeeper replied.

“Not really. We know just about as much as we usually

do when we start our investigatin’.” The cook got to her

feet and went to the pine sideboard. Opening the top drawer,

she took out her writing paper and pencil. “We know when

the crime took place; we know who was killed and where

they lived. That’s not much more than we generally know.”

She put the paper down on the table and sat back down.

“Now, I’ve a lot to do, so let’s get this part of the meeting

done with quickly.”

“Luty and Hatchet are going to be fit to be tied.” Betsy

giggled. “They hate missing out.”

Luty Belle Crookshank and her butler Hatchet were

friends of the household. Luty Belle, an elderly, eccentric,

and rich American, had been a witness in one of their first

cases. Being clever and observant, she’d figured out what

they were up to as they asked questions and tried to help

their inspector solve a particularly ugly murder of a Knights-

bridge physician. After that