Murder by the Book (A Chloe Boston Mystery Book 15) Page 3

  It wasn’t until I saw Agatha in her neat and proper suit that I understood the look she was trying to capture. The wedding was to transport us back in time more than half a century, to a time when Agatha was a child giving her heart away for the first time. A day when women wore suits to their weddings in the knowledge that they’d get a second and third wearing out of that suit before the descendants eventually passed it on to Goodwill.

  Agatha looked beautiful. Her hair was indeed up and under a small hat, just large enough to support the tasteful veil that fell over her face. Her suit was off-white. The skirt came down to her knees. Her dress included a matching purse and gloves that disappeared into the sleeves of a nicely fitted coat. She wore a small bouquet of pink lace roses on the lapel. I stood beside her and held her hand. The mirror showed two beautiful women who had just stepped out of a classic 1950s black and white movie.

  While the seamstress checked the fit of Agatha’s suit, I wandered off to browse the shop. I was shopping in the front of the store, by the windows, when I saw a familiar figure across the street carrying out a monetary transaction.

  It was Eddie Springer.

  He was wearing baggy short pants belted down around his thighs. He also wore a ripped t-shirt that had once been white with a black leather coat and basketball shoes that were untied. His boxers were striped. His sunglasses were Ray-Bans. His black hair was cut short and long in different places and appeared to have an animal or word shaved into one of the shorter spots. The hairdo was somewhat obscured by the cap that topped it all, brim cocked off at an abstract angle.

  The sight of the young man working the streets appalled me, causing me to flash back to the pizza delivery incident and then afterwards to the deflated tricycle tires. He couldn’t be responsible for my tires, could he? I felt an irrational rage building inside of me that failed to subside as I charged to the front door of the shop.

  “You!” I called. “Hey, you!” I repeated when he blatantly ignored me.

  I stomped purposefully across the street toward the young man while shaking my finger. Eddie eventually turned to acknowledge me.

  “Oh geez, lady. What is it now? Why are you always busting my hump?”

  “Did I just see you conduct a drug deal from that window across the street?”

  “I don’t know what you saw from that window across the street, and I don’t care. I’m minding my own business and you should do the same.”

  “And I suppose you know nothing about a set of tricycle tires that had all the air let out of them yesterday morning?”

  “Now what are you talking about? Are you crazy?”

  “Go ahead, I dare you to deny it,” I challenged.

  “Look, ma’am.” Oh how I hate it when I’m called ma’am. “Maybe we got off on the wrong foot. My name is Eddie Springer, and I’m not a bad guy.”

  I tried to quell my temper, realizing that I’d flown off the handle. Eddie smiled and extended a gloved hand. He was actually wearing a partial black leather glove that was missing the fingers and had holes over the knuckles. The sight of the gloved hand made my blood begin to simmer again.

  “Excuse me, but can I be of some assistance?” I heard Agatha interrupt.

  I turned to see that Agatha had changed back into her street clothes and was standing beside me in the street. She still looked radiant. I was hesitant to ruin her special day with the likes of Eddie Springer.

  “Oh hello, Eddie,” she said. “Have you located my copy of Once They Were Eagles? Lawrence just loves his war movies,” she said aside to me.

  “Hello, Mrs. Graves,” Eddie said. “I have your video in my car and will deliver it this evening. And by the way, congratulations on your upcoming wedding. And Agatha, did I fail to mention that you’re looking particularly radiant this morning.”

  “Why, Eddie,” Agatha blushed.

  “I’ll be the one to notice that Mrs. Graves looks radiant,” I snapped. “Don’t you try and steal my memories.”

  I folded my arms over my chest and then felt silly. The other two considered me in silence. Of course they had no idea what I was babbling about. The silence was long and uncomfortable.

  “Maybe I should leave,” Eddie suggested. “I’ll be seeing you.”

  He shot us each with his fingers as he backed away, and then he turned and was gone around the corner. I shivered in his wake.

  “He’s a nice enough boy, Chloe.”

  “There’s something about him that I don’t like.”

  Then I let it go. I smiled and took Agatha’s hand.

  “You do look particularly radiant this morning.”

  “Of course, dear. I’m about to marry the love of my life.”

  Chapter 5

  I’d spent the day shopping. I knew that the party would take place later that night so I went out to buy a dress. I was already making payments on my bridesmaid suit I’d bought, but I wanted to look pretty for Alex. Besides, I also wanted to make an impression when I stepped through the doors into the Morningside Inn. I bought a white fifties-style dress with black polka dots. It was wide at the bottom where it draped below my knees and tight at the waist where it was cinched by a broad black velvet belt with a rhinestone buckle. The lapels of the V-neck top were wide, black trim on white. I was wearing black pantyhose and black velvet pumps. These would make the top of my head come up to Alex’s chin. I decided not to wear a hat but did find a clutch that went perfectly with the outfit.

  We dropped Alex’s prized BMW off and paid an arm and a leg for valet parking. I walked the red carpet into the inn on Alex’s arm. The doors were opened by someone dressed as an English butler. We were met by the hatcheck ladies where we checked my ugly overcoat before actually having to enter. The next set of doors was opened by a pair of doormen. When these doors opened they revealed a large group milling around and eating hors d’oeuvres. I recognized many of them as friends and neighbors.

  All conversation ceased and heads turned the moment we stepped into the room. Murmured comments commenced but all eyes remained riveted on me.

  “She’s here,” I heard someone gasp.

  I felt uncomfortable standing in the entryway with all eyes on me. Obviously Alex was taken aback and didn’t know what to do since he remained standing in place. The ice broke when Tara Lee sashayed from the crowd carrying two glasses of champagne. As usual, she was dressed to the nines, this time in a fashionable gray business suit.

  “Chloe Boston,” she said rather too loudly for a face-to-face conversation. “You finally made it. We’ve been waiting with bated breath.”

  Tara Lee handed us our champagne and conversation within the room recommenced. I was happier when everyone stopped staring at me. I exhaled a long sigh of relief and flashed Tara Lee a polite smile.

  “Why, Chloe, you look beautiful. Is that a new dress?”

  Tara Lee appeared to be playing to the crowd by using flamboyant gestures and turning to others around her to elicit confirmation of the statement that she was sure they were listening in on.

  “I just bought it this morning,” I explained timidly.

  “Well your dress is lovely. And you, Alex. You’re looking fit yourself.”

  “I’m glad to be here,” Alex offered.

  “Well, your party awaits you at Sherlock Holmes’ table,” Tara Lee said, guiding us through the milling crowd.

  I exchanged pleasantries with the people we passed. All of them smiled and looked happy to see me, but beneath the smiles I sensed suspicion. It was probably just my nerves making me feel overly sensitive to every gesture and facial expression. I tried to brush these feelings aside as I walked through the crowd, reasoning that it was just my nervous mind making things up for me to worry about. Then I remembered that I was good at uncovering clues which primarily involved reading every gesture and facial expression for exactly what they were.

  People at our table then started to applaud. It started in the back of the room and was very tentative. It proceeded forward toward t
he gap I was forming by my passing. Now I clearly heard my name being murmured. I was ready to curl up in a corner and die from embarrassment.

  By the time I made it to the wedding table I was holding my breath. The deerstalker hat and meerschaum pipe that Alex had presented to me in our home were sitting in the center of the table. The bubble of my anxiety burst the moment I saw Agatha standing at the head of the table. She was beaming and tapping on the back of an empty seat beside her. Lawrence was standing on her other side. He bowed gracefully and gestured to the chair beside him. Alex and I separated to go opposite directions to our seats.

  “Our ringer has arrived,” Gordon said, standing in my way as I tried to slip around the table.

  “It’s good to see you too, Gordon,” I replied as I barely wedged myself past his gut.

  “Hey, Boston. You look nice.”

  “Thanks, Bryce.”

  I waved to Althea who sort of smiled back and then I saluted the Chief casually. The Chief was one of the people clapping, as was Mr. Jackman. I blushed and smiled uncontrollably before looking away. Eventually the clapping subsided and people went back to their individual conversations.

  I hugged Agatha. She looked exquisite in yet another well-tailored suit. She was radiating pure joy and it was impossible to feel anything but joy in her embrace. We sat down at the table holding hands like two teenage girls who hadn’t texted each other for over a week.

  “This is so exciting,” said Agatha.

  “What’s so exciting? Your wedding?” I asked, thinking that I was finally seeing a crack in her cool and calm facade.

  “No, your entrance, dear. Your being here tonight and me being here with you to see it. The way you look tonight. Everything,” she finally admitted.

  “Oh, that.” I really wished people would stop making such a big deal about it.

  Mr. Jackman interrupted our conversation to clasp my hands and give them a kiss. He looked like such a dear in his blue suit and red tie. His hair was slicked back which made him appear particularly rakish.

  “Good to see you, my dear.”

  “And you, Lawrence,” I replied, trying to get used to using his first name.

  I took a stiff sip of my champagne and felt it bubble against the roof of my mouth. It required several swallows to down the mouthful. I giggled when I’d swallowed it all and wiped some of the drink from my mouth where it had dripped. I looked across the table and saw Alex and the Chief standing side by side considering me. Alex was frowning. The Chief shook his head and took his seat. Reminded, I set the champagne glass a fair distance away from me at the table.

  “Good evening, everyone,” my father intoned as he stepped up to the table. “Well I’ll be doggone if you don’t know how to make an entrance.”

  “Thanks, Pop,” I replied.

  “Lovely dress,” my mother observed from beside him.

  “Thanks. Where’s little Reggie?”

  “With a sitter,” Althea offered in a growl. “For the first time. I’m worried.”

  “I wouldn’t be too worried, that is if it’s someone experienced.”

  “She’s a teenage girl. Oh my, I should give her a call,” she concluded, reaching into her baggy purse for her cellphone.

  “Althea, you just called ten minutes ago,” Gordon pointed out.

  Althea pierced him where he stood on the ends of an evil glare. Gordon piped down and sat down hard.

  “And this is Colin Collins,” my father announced, stepping aside to make room for a little man at the table.

  The man was Hercule Poirot. From his neatly parted hair to his white spats, to include his vintage suit, waxed mustache, and pince-nez glasses in between. I gasped.

  “Mr. Collins has solved the murder at the last five annual mystery dinners,” my father explained. “He wanted to meet you.”

  “Mr. Collins,” I said, turning to him in my seat and extending my hand.

  “Charmed,” he said in perfectly formed English, though he did bend to brush a kiss against the back of my hand.

  I’d fully expected the man to speak with a heavy Belgian accent. I was prepared to exchange idle pleasantries when the conversation turned ominous.

  “I just wanted to let you know, that I don’t think it unfair of you to enter this year’s competition. In fact, I look forward to the challenge.”

  “I’m glad you see things that way.” I was taken aback.

  “I would also warn you now that you will not win.”

  “That’s enough of that, Colin,” my father said, stepping between us.

  “I’ll be seeing you,” I heard Mr. Collins say, but I did not see him beyond my father’s back.

  “Bye,” I called tentatively.

  Alex was still standing. I could tell by the look in his eye that he wanted to go after the guy. I shook my head, trying to warn him away. He acknowledged my signal with a tight smile before taking his seat to talk with Mr. Jackman.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, would you please take your seats,” a woman’s voice cried out.

  Stepping to the head of the room onto a raised platform was a woman all in red, in the outfit a flapper might wear in the 1920s. I thought I recognized her face from somewhere.

  “Oh my,” Agatha exclaimed. “This is nothing like the games we play at your house.”

  “No, it isn’t,” I agreed, becoming fascinated with what was about to happen.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to a world of illusion where dreams come true. Welcome to a world of danger and deception. Welcome to City Lights.”

  She concluded her little introduction with a deep bow. Her audience, still busy finding their seats, applauded as they shuffled past one another. By the time most of them were seated, the lady had risen from her extended bow. She began to speak again.

  “In a few moments, the murder mystery will begin. From this moment onward, I would request that you conduct yourself as you normally would at a party. Once the murder has been committed, you will be given instructions on how to play the game.

  “And now, the game is afoot.…”

  The lights went out and I waited for someone to scream.

  Chapter 6

  The lights came on several seconds later to hushed conversation. The woman in red was gone. A scratchy Charleston dance tune started playing through hidden speakers. The music muted when two characters stepped into the room. One was an elder woman dressed in an elegant twenties gown. She carried an unlit cigarette at the end of a long holder. She was followed by a man in a plain black suit. They walked to the raised platform and turned to the audience. The lights dimmed and a spotlight came on, lighting the pair.

  “I tell you, Jeeves, I’m beyond myself with displeasure at having to spend the evening amongst such company.”

  The audience laughed when they realized she was most probably referring to them.

  “I fully understand, Lady Winters.”

  “If only I’d left my priceless jewels locked in the hotel safe as you had requested. I feel so vulnerable wearing them out amongst this rabble.”

  The woman was indeed wearing a plentiful collection of gaudy fake jewelry.

  “It’s not too late, Madam. We can still check them with the concierge.”

  This struck me as particularly amusing, the thought of a place like the Morningside Inn having a concierge. I held in my giggles and continued to listen intently. It was wonderful having the spotlight on someone else.

  “I’ve made my decision and I’ll stick with it. I’m wearing my jewels no matter what the danger.”

  “As you will, Madam.”

  The two characters stepped from the stage and disappeared behind a curtain. Two more characters replaced them, a disreputable pair of men. Several of the audience members booed them before they began to speak.

  “So, you say that your aunt is loaded and she’s wearing a fortune in jewels tonight at the party. Is that what yah says, Archie.”

  “I already told you, she’s worth millions. And a lot of th
at wealth will be on her person this evening.”

  “Then we go ahead with the plan.”

  “I suppose so, Hingis.”

  These two men slipped behind the curtain as the lights came up and the spot went out. Several characters in costume, including the woman in red, Lady Winters, Jeeves, Archie, and Hingis stepped out from behind the curtain and positioned themselves about the room.

  “You are now free to interact with the characters,” the woman in red announced before taking up her position within the room. Everyone rose from their tables and began to mingle. There was a rush of people to talk with Lady Winters and her nephew. Those around my table waited to follow my lead.

  “What do you say we split up so we can cover more ground?” I suggested.

  “Good idea, dear,” said Agatha. “You heard her. Let’s mingle, people.”

  “I’m sticking to our ringer,” Gordon insisted.

  Oh goody, an evening with Gordon.

  My table dispersed into the crowd. I strolled over to a young gentleman in knickers and a knit sweater vest with Gordon in tow.

  “Do you happen to have a copy of the Times?” I asked him, seeing that several photocopied sheets of paper were draped over his arm with the paper’s name splashed across the top.

  “Certainly, miss,” the young man said, handing me the two-sided sheet of paper.

  “What do we want the paper for?” Gordon moaned. “We should be over with the others interviewing Lady Winters.”

  I ignored him to examine the news. The paper was full of red herrings; however, here and there were tidbits worth noting. A room at the Carlton Hotel was robbed only two nights ago. The burglar got away with several thousand dollars in jewelry. That and the fact that the circus was in town. I handed the paper to Gordon who frowned back at me.

  “Forget this. I’m going over to that fancy lady to get some real clues,” Gordon said before turning and walking away.