Mrs. Jeffries Takes the Stage (29 page)

Mrs. Jeffries shrugged. “From what the inspector told me, Rather wasn’t particularly fond of his employer. I expect Theodora Vaughan offered him money. Probably the money to go to America and start a new life.”

“I wonder whose idea it was to toss the body in the canal?” Luty asked.

“Probably Theodora Vaughan’s,” Mrs. Jeffries guessed. “Once Rather did that, once he willingly participated,
he was then an accomplice. I think she was hoping that act would buy his silence.”

“But if she’d paid him,” Betsy asked, “why did she try to kill him tonight?”

“Because I expect he wanted more. By this time, she’d realized that accomplice or not, Rather could blackmail her for the rest of her life.”

“So she did it for money,” Luty muttered. “Greed.”

“And for love,” Mrs. Jeffries added. “I think she really did love Edmund Delaney. Even knowing his play wasn’t very good, she helped him get it produced on the stage.”

From outside, they heard the rattle of a hansom pull up in front of the house. Fred leapt to his feet and ran for the stairs. “That’ll be the inspector and Wiggins,” Mrs. Jeffries said.

Luty and Hatchet were already up and scurrying toward the back door. “We’ll be back tomorrow for the rest of the details,” Luty called over her shoulder.

Smythe, Betsy, and Mrs. Goodge started to get up too, but Mrs. Jeffries waved them back into their chairs. “No, stay here. Wiggins might need a bit of moral support. It’ll look better if the inspector sees we were all concerned for him.”

The inspector and Wiggins came into the kitchen just as the back door shut behind Luty and Hatchet. Fred, who’d followed them into the back hall to say goodbye, trotted in, spotted the newcomers and bounded over to greet them, his tail wagging frantically as he bounced between his two favorite people.

“Gracious,” Witherspoon said as he took in everyone sitting at the table, “you shouldn’t have waited up for me.”

“We were concerned, sir,” Mrs. Jeffries said. “When
that girl arrived here with the note and then Wiggins didn’t come right back from taking it to you, we feared something was amiss.”

“Well, I’m very touched,” the inspector said. He spotted the teapot. “I say, is there more of that?”

The housekeeper quickly poured him a cup and put it in front of the chair that Luty had just vacated. “Do sit down and tell us what happened, sir.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Jeffries.” Witherspoon sat down. “Now, sit down, Wiggins, and stop your sulking. I didn’t mean to be sharp with you earlier, but you could have been hurt tonight. You were very, very brave and I’m quite proud of you, but still it was a foolish thing to do. I’d never forgive myself if something happened to you.”

“What happened?” Mrs. Jeffries asked, though she knew perfectly well exactly what had happened.

“Well.” Witherspoon told them what they already knew. But all of them played their parts perfectly as he spun his tale.

Mrs. Goodge clucked her tongue, Betsy shook her head in disbelief, Smythe occasionally mumbled something under his breath and Mrs. Jeffries vacillated between sympathetic glances and stern frowns.

When he’d finished, Mrs. Jeffries asked, “Does she really think she’ll convince a jury she’s innocent?”

Witherspoon shrugged. “She’ll try. But with the physical evidence against her and Rather’s testimony, I don’t think she’ll succeed.”

“What about Rather, then?” Betsy asked. “Is he bein’ charged?”

“No, he’s agreed to turn Queen’s Evidence,” Witherspoon explained. “In exchange for testifying against her, he won’t be charged as an accomplice.”

After a few more questions, Betsy, Smythe and Mrs.
Goodge excused themselves. Wiggins took Fred out for a brief visit to the gardens. As the boy and the dog disappeared down the hall, the inspector turned to Mrs. Jeffries, a concerned frown on his face. “Honestly, Mrs. Jeffries, I don’t know what to do. I didn’t like to be sharp with Wiggins, but he took a terrible risk tonight.”

“He only wanted to help you, sir,” she replied hesitantly. As she didn’t quite know what story Wiggins had cooked up to explain his presence at the Hinchley house, she wasn’t sure what to say.

“That’s why I feel so responsible.” Witherspoon clucked his tongue. “Gracious, the lad jumped on the back of our hansom, followed me all the way there and then leapt upon an armed killer. It was very brave of the boy, but I’d never have forgiven myself if he’d been shot. Gracious, what if she’d been holding that wretched der-ringer instead of carrying it in her jacket? Egads, it could even have gone off in the struggle.”

“Did he tell you why he’d followed you, sir?”

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” Witherspoon glanced toward the back hall to make sure Wiggins was still out. “I really must ask you to be more careful about loaning him books, Mrs. Jeffries.”

“Books, sir?”

“I think it’s wonderful the way you’re encouraging him to read. He is, after all, quite a bright lad. But some of them have the most dreadful effect on him. He told me he’d been reading some poem by that American fellow, Mr. Edgar Allan Poe.”

“Edgar Allan Poe?”

“Yes, some poem about a blackbird…no, no, I tell a lie, it’s not about a blackbird, it’s a raven. Anyway”—Witherspoon waved impatiently—“the point is, I gather it’s quite a gloomy piece with this bird carping on and on
about ‘nevermore’ or some such thing. There’s a dead woman in it as well and the bird’s going on and on and on about this ‘nevermore.’” He shrugged helplessly. “Poor Wiggins told me this poem so upset him that when he brought that note around to the Yard this evening, he was quite sure he’d never see me again. That’s why he followed me. Honestly, Mrs. Jeffries, I’ve no idea what to do. I’m touched by his devotion, but he mustn’t ever, ever, take such risks. You will speak to him, won’t you? Tell him not to take poetry so seriously.” He yawned and rose slowly to his feet.

“I’ll have a word with him in the morning, sir,” she promised. She’d fix him a special breakfast too, she told herself. “By the way, sir, Lady Cannonberry’s back from the country.”

Tired as he was, Witherspoon positively beamed. “That’s wonderful. Shall we invite her round for tea tomorrow?”

“I expect she’ll be happy to drop by,” Mrs. Jeffries said as she got to her feet and picked up the teapot. Ruth would probably be here before breakfast demanding to know everything. “You’d better get some rest, sir.”

“Good night, Mrs. Jeffries, and do see that Wiggins is all right, will you?”

“Of course, sir,” she called as he headed for the stairs.

Wiggins and Fred came in a few minutes later. He stopped by the door and grinned at her.

She arched an eyebrow. “Edgar Allan Poe?”

“I was right pleased with myself for thinkin’ of that so quick. Good thing I’d read that poem.”

“Wiggins,” she replied, “you missed your true calling. You should have been an actor. You convinced him completely.”

“Nah, wouldn’t want to be one of them,” he said.
“Too borin’ by ’alf. But I do think maybe I’ll try my ’and at spinnin’ tales. I think I might be right good at it.”

“I think,” she replied sincerely, “you’ll be excellent at it. As a matter of fact, you’ll do us proud.”

For more books by this author
click here

Berkley Prime Crime titles by Emily Brightwell

THE INSPECTOR AND MRS. JEFFRIES

MRS. JEFFRIES DUSTS FOR CLUES

THE GHOST AND MRS. JEFFRIES

MRS. JEFFRIES TAKES STOCK

MRS. JEFFRIES ON THE BALL

MRS. JEFFRIES ON THE TRAIL

MRS. JEFFRIES PLAYS THE COOK

MRS. JEFFRIES AND THE MISSING ALIBI

MRS. JEFFRIES STANDS CORRECTED

MRS. JEFFRIES TAKES THE STAGE

MRS. JEFFRIES QUESTIONS THE ANSWER

MRS. JEFFRIES REVEALS HER ART

MRS. JEFFRIES TAKES THE CAKE

MRS. JEFFRIES ROCKS THE BOAT

MRS. JEFFRIES WEEDS THE PLOT

MRS. JEFFRIES PINCHES THE POST

MRS. JEFFRIES PLEADS HER CASE

MRS. JEFFRIES SWEEPS THE CHIMNEY

MRS. JEFFRIES STALKS THE HUNTER

MRS. JEFFRIES AND THE SILENT KNIGHT

MRS. JEFFRIES APPEALS THE VERDICT

MRS. JEFFRIES AND THE BEST LAID PLANS

MRS. JEFFRIES AND THE FEAST OF ST. STEPHEN

MRS. JEFFRIES HOLDS THE TRUMP

MRS. JEFFRIES IN THE NICK OF TIME

MRS. JEFFRIES AND THE YULETIDE WEDDINGS

MRS. JEFFRIES SPEAKS HER MIND

MRS. JEFFRIES FORGES AHEAD

MRS. JEFFRIES AND THE MISTLETOE MIX-UP

MRS. JEFFRIES DEFENDS HER OWN

Anthologies

MRS. JEFFRIES LEARNS THE TRADE

MRS. JEFFRIES TAKES A SECOND LOOK