The Caster & Fleet Mysteries: Cases 4-6 Read online

‘Never mind. We’re on holiday.’

  ‘It’s not right, being on holiday.’

  Ada had refused point blank to be put up in the same hotel as Father and I for the week we’d stayed in Weymouth. From the depths of her mysterious past she had found a relation or old friend who kept a smaller establishment, and insisted on staying there. Although I had managed to prevail upon her to sit on the beach in a deck chair for a whole hour, it was only because I’d paid for its hire and she didn’t like to waste money. She was so scandalised by the bare ankles on display and the distant and barely discernible ‘virtually naked’ bathers that I decided thereafter to only take her on excursions where people were fully clothed (except perhaps in art, which didn’t apparently count). In the main, however, she had refused those too, on the grounds that she had better things to do than look at objects which needed dusting. I had the feeling the only time she’d been happy was when her relation or friend had let her help with the housework.

  ‘Sit down, please,’ I begged, waving my letters. ‘I’ll tell you all Connie’s news.’

  A soft smile replaced Ada’s frown as she finally deigned to seat herself. ‘Ah — and how is the blessed angel?’

  ‘Which one? A, B or C?’

  ‘Tut tut, Mrs Kitty.’ Ada scowled again. ‘Your mother and aunt didn’t bring you up to be facetious.’

  ‘I didn’t think it up,’ I argued. ‘James did.’

  Another smile. James could do no wrong in Ada’s eyes. ‘Gentlemen will be gentlemen. Anyway, Mr Bertie will always be Mr Bertie to me, so really there isn’t an A.’

  The tea had arrived and Ada insisted on pouring it as I read from Connie’s letter. It didn’t take long.

  Bee has some teeth coming but it hasn’t stopped her giggling. She is such a delight and loves the toy you bought her, though I confess I’m not sure if she prefers chewing it, shaking it or throwing it for Nanny to retrieve.

  ‘The little darling!’ interrupted Ada, with no apparent care for Nanny’s feelings.

  Albert is still afraid he’ll break her.

  ‘Tsk. Tell Mrs Connie to bring them both round to me and I’ll set him straight.’

  James came to dinner last night and seems to be missing you. (That is to say, he said the place was nice and quiet.) One suspects he’s positively bored without anyone to argue with. He has refused to let me see your new apartments but promises he has taken feminine advice as to its decor. Oh, and he has a surprise for you.

  Ada sniggered. I gave her a stern look but she remained unabashed.

  I’m glad that your Father’s lectures have gone well and your cousin Nathan is learning the ropes. I hope that Ada has enjoyed her holiday. She certainly deserved one.

  ‘Huh.’

  I can’t wait to hear all about your time away, assuming Mr Maynard hasn’t already an assignment lined up for you.

  ‘Has he?’ said Ada, nodding at my other letters.

  ‘Mmm,’ I replied. She narrowed her eyes, but even Ada’s gimlet stare couldn’t penetrate the envelope of Mr Maynard’s wire, which simply said Well done STOP Arrest successful and charges made STOP.

  ‘It’s hard for you without Mrs Connie’s help,’ Ada said when she realised I wouldn’t vouchsafe anything.

  I detected pride in her voice. Truth to tell, she respected my discretion and determination. She was one of the few people I knew who didn’t say that married women shouldn’t work; nor did she ever ask probing questions about the possibility of anticipated blessings. The only thing that mattered was the one thing she saw. I missed Connie’s help.

  ‘James has written too,’ I told her.

  She sat back. ‘Ah. The Wordsmith.’ It was my turn to raise my eyebrows but she didn’t notice.

  Dear K, do you have to come home? I am enjoying a week of good sleep without your snoring. My sister has given the apartment a once-over and chosen the furnishings. I hope you like the style of 1882. Very flouncy. If you insist on coming home, I suppose I’ll have to collect you from Waterloo on Friday evening.

  ‘That’s nice,’ said Ada, without irony. She thought my husband was perfect.

  Went to visit ABC last night. Or rather A & C. According to Nanny I’m too boisterous for Bee in the evening and make her fractious. Utter nonsense, but at least it gave me plenty of time to talk to A & C. They have given us tickets to a masquerade ball. Hope you have been practising your dancing while you’re away. You’ll need a costume. I wonder if you could borrow something from the music hall. Failing that, perhaps you could go as a tulip. I, of course, shall go as a Roman Emperor.

  ‘Shenanigans,’ said Ada with relish. ‘And about time too.’

  Chapter 3

  Connie

  ‘How do I look?’ I said, turning from the glass as Albert came in.

  ‘Beautiful,’ said Albert. ‘Though I suspect you’ll leave a trail of white everywhere you go.’

  Maria had made me an exquisite white gown in the style of the eighteenth century; I required a new dress, for my figure had changed sufficiently to make all my formal dresses unwearable. Violet and Nancy had put my hair up in a suitably imposing style and powdered it white. My head felt twice as heavy as usual; but it did look striking. When I put on my white silk half-mask, a stranger gazed back at me. I wasn’t sure if I liked it or not. Then again, perhaps that was part of the experience.

  ‘I feel rather underdressed, by comparison,’ said Albert, coming over to brush a little powder from my shoulder.

  ‘It’s more difficult for men,’ I said. ‘You look very distinguished in your white tie and tails.’

  ‘Thank you, milady.’ He stooped to kiss my cheek, staying well clear of my hair. ‘I wonder what James and K will wear.’

  ‘We’ll find out soon,’ I said. ‘James will want to blend in, if he’s covering the event for the paper.’

  ‘I’ll believe that when I see it,’ said Albert. ‘And K could turn up as anything.’

  ‘True. Let’s fetch them, and find out.’

  ***

  ‘Good heavens,’ I murmured to myself, as James and Katherine emerged from their flat. Both were wearing Greek robes which reached almost to the floor, although in Katherine’s case they were drawn in at the waist by a thin gold belt. Her hair was down beneath a high crown, while James wore a laurel wreath on his head and carried a lightning bolt. The simple costumes suited them both, and for a moment I wished that Albert and I were a matching pair, too.

  ‘Jupiter and Juno, I presume,’ I said, as they approached. ‘Or is it Zeus and Hera?’

  ‘I shall answer to either,’ said Katherine, looking most dignified.

  ‘Well, you look lovely,’ I said. ‘I shall try not to anger you, in case you turn me into something nasty.’

  ‘I doubt Aunt Alice would let me,’ said Katherine, a trifle regretfully. ‘She was most concerned that our costumes should be proper, with no chance of anything, um, showing. I daresay these sheets have no magic powers left whatsoever, she’s put so many seams and darts in.’

  ‘I’m sure my thunderbolt will do the trick,’ said James, brandishing it. ‘Now come along, or we’ll miss the fun.’

  ***

  We drew up outside the Beaulieu Hotel a fashionable fifteen minutes late. There was nothing to indicate that anything unusual was happening, but then again, Maisie had told me that the whole affair was meant to be rather exclusive. ‘Only for those in the know, dear,’ she had said.

  ‘Tredwell, would you mind waiting for ten minutes,’ said Albert, opening the door and handing me out. ‘If we haven’t come back out looking forlorn by then, we’ll see you at midnight.’

  Midnight! When had I last been out at such an hour?

  We entered the hotel and immediately a footman all in white, with a powdered wig, beckoned us over. ‘This way, ladies and gentlemen,’ he said. ‘Do you have your tickets?’

  He led us along a corridor, our feet silent in the thick plush carpet, and then down a short flight of steps to a pair of mirrored doors.
I looked at our reflections; Albert tall and upright, myself as tall, with my piled-up white hair, James and Katherine arm in arm in their robes and headdresses, and blinked.

  ‘You must put your masks on now,’ said the footman. ‘You may not enter without them.’

  I fumbled in my bag and drew out my half-mask with its ribbons. Katherine and James’s masks had a simple band of elastic to fasten them, and theirs were on before I had even found mine. They looked at me, blank-faced, and for some reason my hand trembled. ‘Come on,’ said Albert. ‘I’ll tie yours if you can sort mine out.’

  At length we were all ready, and the doors swung open. I waited for someone to announce us, but it seemed completely informal. Music was playing in the background, but everyone was standing in pairs and small groups, talking and laughing.

  And what a collection they were! There must have been half a dozen candles in the room, a bevy of angels, and a flock of birds, as well as a host of women in white muslin gowns. There were Pierrots, and classically-draped statues, and a man in a suit made of paper. The room itself had arrangements of white flowers standing on white plinths, with gauzy hangings all round, and chairs with white covers ringed the room. White lights twinkled everywhere.

  ‘Do you think this is what heaven is like?’ I asked Katherine.

  ‘Heaven might be a little less busy,’ she replied, with a broad smile. ‘But it is very nice.’

  ‘Connie!’ said Maisie’s voice, and a woman wearing a feather-trimmed dress and a matching, close-fitting cap approached. ‘It is Connie, isn’t it?’

  ‘It is,’ I replied, embracing her carefully.

  ‘I feel as if I should curtsey to you.’ She laughed. ‘Although I do think I make rather a fine swan.’

  A man in a matching feather-trimmed suit approached, holding two glasses of champagne. ‘There you are!’ he said. ‘I thought you were staying by the pillar. I’ve had enough trouble finding a drink without you disappearing.’

  ‘Sorry, Archie,’ said Maisie, relieving him of a glass. ‘Everyone, this is Archie Bellairs. Archie, this motley crew are Connie and Albert Lamont, and…’ She looked at me for help.

  ‘Allow me to introduce Katherine and James King,’ I said. ‘Katherine, James, may I introduce Maisie Frobisher.’

  ‘Delighted,’ said James, bowing over her hand and managing to keep his wreath on.

  ‘James King…’ I heard the frown in Archie Bellairs’s voice. ‘Now how do I know that name?’

  ‘I write for the newspapers,’ said James. ‘You may have read me in the Times.’

  ‘Oh, so you’re here on a job!’ exclaimed Archie. ‘Society column, eh?’

  ‘Who knows,’ said James, ‘I might even mention you.’ He exchanged a hint of a grin with Katherine. She rolled her eyes ever so slightly.

  Archie blinked. ‘Oh — of course — you are one of the Oxfordshire Kings, aren’t you?’

  ‘Not quite royalty yet,’ said James.

  Archie chuckled and clapped James on the shoulder as if they were old friends. ‘Now then, old chap…’

  Katherine tucked her arm in mine and steered me away. ‘What an idiot that man is,’ she chuckled. ‘I’ve a good mind to tell James to write something scathing about snobs in his article.’

  ‘It would be more fun to summon your powers and turn him into a real swan,’ I said.

  ‘Yes.’ Katherine grinned. ‘A mute one.’

  ***

  We rejoined the group as a slim, fair-haired figure in white tie and tails jumped on the dais at the front of the room. ‘Good evening, ladies and gentlemen!’ he called.

  I leaned towards Albert. ‘Is that Toby Langlands?’

  ‘Must be,’ he replied.

  ‘Welcome to our masked ball! It’s wonderful to see so many of you here, supporting the All Hallows Orphanage. Supper will be served at ten, but first and foremost this is a ball, so we must have dancing!’ Toby Langlands grinned. ‘You will note that there are no dance cards. First come, first served!’

  ‘Don’t leave me,’ I muttered to Albert.

  ‘Don’t be silly, Connie,’ he replied, squeezing my hand. ‘Who else would put up with my dancing?’

  ‘I claim the first dance,’ said James, taking Katherine’s hand. ‘Although I’m not sure what we’ll dance to. We’re several musicians short of a ball.’

  ‘Good luck, everyone!’ called Toby Langlands. He jumped down and was lost in the crowd.

  A buzz of conversation followed as waiters circulated with trays of drinks, and then the room fell silent as four black-haired, olive-skinned men, also in white tie and tails, ascended the dais. Two held guitars, while one had a tambourine. The last man approached the upright piano at the back of the dais, rolling it on its castors so that it half-faced the audience, while the guitar players fetched chairs and took a seat. Then he came forward.

  ‘Good evening,’ he said, his English heavily accented. ‘We play for you.’

  As if by magic the crowd resolved itself into little islands of paired men and women.

  ‘I have a distinct feeling that they won’t be starting with Sir Roger de Coverley,’ said James, turning to face Katherine.

  What followed was like nothing I had heard at a ball before. The music was slow, syncopated, and the tambourine player sang a winding melody in words I could not understand.

  ‘I don’t know what to do!’ I hissed at Albert. ‘What are you laughing at?’

  ‘Look around you,’ he replied. ‘No one knows what to do!’

  He was right. People were swaying to the music, their feet tapping, but the room was almost still.

  One of the guitarists stood up, smiling broadly, and propped his guitar against the chair, even as the music continued. He walked to the front of the stage and surveyed us, then descended the steps. He was a short, slight man, and his path was towards Katherine. ‘May I ’ave this dance?’ he asked, bowing.

  Katherine looked at James, eyebrows raised, then nodded.

  ‘We show them tango.’ He led Katherine up the steps, and put his other hand on her waist, keeping plenty of distance between them. ‘So.’ He moved with the rhythms of the music, almost at a walk, piloting Katherine now forward, now back, using the full width of the dais, twisting, turning, lunging. It seemed like a mix of a waltz, and a polka, and something I had never seen — something thrilling. ‘Slow, slow, quick, quick, slow,’ he said. ‘The music tell you what to do.’ He released Katherine, who was rather flushed, and they bowed to each other before he returned to his guitar.

  ‘May I?’ said Albert, and put his arm around my waist, drawing me somewhat closer than the demonstrated distance.

  I looked up at him. ‘Of course.’

  ***

  Perhaps it was the unaccustomed exercise, or the effort of half-leading Albert, or the heat of the room, but I was tired after four dances, and retired to the edge of the room while Albert went in search of drinks. Katherine joined me, bright-eyed and extremely pleased with herself.

  ‘You’ve cheered up, then,’ I said, smiling.

  ‘It’s very exciting, isn’t it?’ Her cheeks were pink. ‘And such fun! I hope we get to dance like this again.’ She looked round the room at the weaving mass of dancers. ‘I shall tell Mr Templeton that he was completely wrong.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Oh, didn’t I say? I meant to.’ Her eyes twinkled. ‘I dropped in to the Merrymakers to see if they had any costumes I could borrow, and when I mentioned what it was for, Mr T warned me off. Said he’d been approached by someone to hire a few of his girls for a — what did he say? Posing.’

  ‘Like a tableau?’

  ‘I think so. The man was a bit vague about what it would entail, so Mr T packed him off, especially as he said the fee was far too high for anything legitimate.’ Katherine giggled. ‘I’m sure I don’t know what he meant.’

  ‘Are you enjoying the ball, Mrs Lamont?’ Toby Langlands had appeared out of nowhere.

  I smiled. ‘Very muc
h. And do call me Connie.’

  ‘Could I persuade you to a dance? I promise to be gentle,’ he added, when he saw me hesitate.

  I looked for Albert, but couldn’t see him in the packed room. ‘Yes, of course.’

  Toby was a good dancer — I hadn’t expected him to be a bad one, but he led me expertly, holding me at a respectable distance, and I glided smoothly round the room in his arms. ‘You are so clever,’ I murmured, ‘organising all this.’

  Toby laughed and pivoted me round. ‘Oh, it isn’t just me, not at all. I’m front of house. I know people, and they know me.’

  I studied him as we crossed the room. He was much the same as the first time we had met, at Maisie’s house — boyish and charming — but there was something else; a slight hardness about the corners of his mouth. I wondered how difficult things were for him. Hopefully James would write a sparkling account of the evening.

  Toby met my eyes, and I tried to think of a response. ‘Have you any more surprises in store?’ I asked.

  ‘Oh yes.’ He laughed.

  ‘My friend was just saying that someone from here wanted to borrow some music hall performers.’ I grinned. ‘Was that you?’

  His smile was gone in an instant, and his face was as blank as his mask. ‘As I said, I’m front of house only.’

  ‘Now then, what’s all this?’ Albert was beside us, a drink in each hand. ‘Sneaking off with my wife, Langlands?’

  ‘Keeping her entertained, Lamont,’ Toby replied, a trifle stiffly, and stepped aside. ‘If you’ll excuse me.’

  Albert gave me one of the glasses. ‘What’s upset him?’ he asked in an undertone, as we walked back to the chairs, where James and Katherine were chatting happily like deities at play.

  ‘I’m not sure,’ I said, taking a seat and sipping my drink. ‘He probably wants to make sure everything’s running smoothly. I heard Archie Bellairs holding forth about the waiters earlier.’

  Albert snorted. ‘That’s more about him than the waiters, in my opinion.’

  We had just taken to the floor again when a shot rang out. Several ladies screamed, and one man threw himself to the ground.