Read Online Mrs. Jeffries and the Merry Gentlemen by Emily Brightwell - Free Book Online Page B

the woman.”
    â€œWell, it sounded that way to me.”
    Mrs. Jeffries knew she had to intervene. “Mrs. Wynn does sometimes start ridiculous rumors based on speculation,” she interjected quickly. “And she was both unfair and unkind to you. But she’s the sort of woman that is always going to think and say the worst about younger, prettier women like you.”
    Somewhat placated, Betsy reached over and squeezed her husband’s hand. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to fly off the handle like that, but it’s still a sore spot with me.”
    â€œAnd it is with me, too. Add to that we’re both tired from our little one’s nightly shenanigans.” He yawned again. “But let’s get on with the meeting. I could use getting out and about.”
    â€œI’m all done,” Wiggins said.
    â€œGood, then I’ll go next.” Mrs. Jeffries repeated the information she’d heard from the inspector and when she finished, she turned to Mrs. Goodge. “Tell everyone what we found out from the constable this morning.”
    â€œIt wasn’t that much, but he did mention that so far, the house-to-house hadn’t turned up any witnesses and that there were several groups of carolers out last night,” she replied. “They’re going to try and track down the singers that came to Edison’s door. But that might take some doing.”
    â€œWhy are they doing that?” Ruth asked. “Is the constable thinking one of them might have seen someone lurking about the area?”
    â€œThat’s what he’s hoping,” the cook replied.
    â€œWe’ve now got the name of the victim and his address as well as the names of several individuals that had quarreled with him on the days leading up to his murder,” Mrs. Jeffries said. “So we’re well on our way on this case.”
    â€œOrlando Edison, Orlando Edison,” Luty muttered. “I know I’ve heard that name before.”
    â€œRalston, Downing, and Bagshot,” Smythe said. “Too bad we didn’t get their first names. That would ’ave ’elped a bit.”
    â€œEven without them, as Mrs. Jeffries says, we’ve still got a fair bit to go on,” Betsy said.
    â€œOf course we do,” Hatchet agreed. “We also know the name of the one person who might benefit the most from Edison’s death: his cousin, Yancy Kimball.” He looked at Mrs. Jeffries. “Do we know where Kimball’s staying?”
    â€œThe Larchmont Hotel on Pringle Street in Paddington,” Mrs. Goodge said quickly. “Sorry, I should have told you before.”
    â€œBut just because this Mr. Kimball is the victim’s cousin, it doesn’t mean he gets the estate,” Phyllis said. “Maybe Edison left a will givin’ it to someone else. When I worked for the Lassiter family, the master had a rich old bachelor cousin who died. Mr. Lassiter expected to inherit the lot, but the cousin had left both his house and all his money to the Royal Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals. He liked cats more than his kin.”
    â€œIt’s certainly possible that the victim left a will,” Mrs. Jeffries said. “But according to the inspector, he was only thirty years old. That’s relatively young and as he had no wife or children, he might not have thought it necessary to have one. In which case, the law generally specifies that the nearest relative inherits the lot.”
    â€œSo one of our first tasks will be to find out who inherits.” Ruth tapped her finger against the handle of her cup. “That shouldn’t be too difficult.”
    â€œAnd then we need to find out who wanted him dead . . .” Phyllis’ voice trailed off. “Sorry, that’s silly, that’s what we always do.”
    â€œIt’s not silly,” Mrs. Jeffries said quickly. Phyllis had very little faith in her own worth or