Mrs. Jeffries Defends Her Own (29 page)

Mrs. Jeffries put the lamp down on the table and rushed upstairs. Once in her room, she changed into her good shoes, made sure her hair was decent, and scribbled a quick note to Mrs. Goodge. Back down in the kitchen, she put on her outer garments, dropped the note on the table, and left.

Even though it had just gone six in the morning, she was able to find a hansom cab on Holland Road. “Number seventeen, Whipple Road in Mayfair,” she told the driver as she climbed inside.

Twenty minutes later, the vehicle pulled up in front of
the Sutcliffe house. Mrs. Jeffries paid the driver and started up the side walkway to the stairs leading down to the servants’ entrance. There was a faint, pale light on in the kitchen. She knocked on the door, and in the stillness it sounded loud enough to wake the dead. She had just raised her hand to knock again when she heard hurried footsteps on the other side, then the sound of a bolt being thrown, and a young maid stuck her head out.

“Who are you and what do you want this time of the mornin’?” the girl demanded. She looked Mrs. Jeffries up and down, her eyes widening as she took in the well-cut cloak and expensive gloves.

Mrs. Jeffries smiled politely. “My name is Hepzibah Jeffries, and I do apologize for intruding this early in the day. However, my business is urgent. Can you please go and tell your mistress that Mrs. Jeffries is here to see her.”

“I don’t care how urgent your business is, I’m not wakin’ her up at this time of the morning. You’ll have to come back at a decent hour.” She tried to close the door, but Mrs. Jeffries slapped her hand against it and shoved hard, sending the girl flying backward. She let out a scream.

“Mrs. Sutcliffe is my sister-in-law.” Mrs. Jeffries pushed into the house. “And I don’t like to be rude, but the matter is quite literally one of life or death. Now, either you go upstairs and tell her to get down here immediately or I’ll go myself.”

The girl, her eyes now wide with fright, bobbed her head and raced down the hall. Mrs. Jeffries closed the door and leaned against it. She hated being a bully, and she felt bad that she’d frightened the girl. The poor lass didn’t look more than fourteen and was no doubt terrified of waking up her mistress at such an early hour. But
the deserted kitchen and the ungodly hour were precisely the reasons Mrs. Jeffries was here at the crack of dawn. She needed to see Fiona, and if possible, she needed her to be alone. She trusted in the fact that even if John woke up, Fiona would find a way to keep him from coming downstairs. She was also counting on the maid being the only one up, and she’d been right. Formal households had a very strict pecking order: The youngest scullery maid got up at the crack of dawn and started the fire, did numerous other chores, and then made tea for the cook.

A few minutes later, Mrs. Jeffries heard footsteps hurrying down the stairs. She straightened away from the door just as Fiona appeared. She wore a pink woolen dressing gown and slippers. Her hair hung in a long braid that she’d pulled over her shoulder. “Hepzibah, what on earth are you doing here?”

“I need to speak with you,” she replied. “It’s urgent. Is there someplace we can speak privately?”

“We can go up to my morning room.” She motioned for her to follow, turned, and went back the way she’d come.

Moving quietly, they went upstairs. Once inside, Mrs. Jeffries sat down on the chair by the secretary, and Fiona sat down on the end of the sofa. “What is so urgent?” Fiona asked softly. “John hasn’t been sleeping well, and I’m worried about him. He almost woke up when the maid came to get me.”

“I know why Ronald Dearman was trying to blackmail you.”

Fiona drew back slightly. “You do?”

“Yes. Your husband didn’t invent the gear that’s made
Sutcliffe’s rich for the last thirty years. It was invented by an engineer from Australia, a man named Eldon Grimshaw.”

Her face drained of color, and her hands curled into tight balls. “That’s absurd,” she whispered with trembling lips.

“Eldon Grimshaw was found dead in a pony and trap just outside the Sutcliffe country house on the very day John announced his engagement to you,” she continued. “That’s how you got him to marry you, isn’t it? Something happened that day with Mr. Grimshaw, and somehow you turned it to your advantage. Tell me, Fiona, did you and John kill that poor man and make it look like an accident?” She’d been guessing about some of what must have happened on that day, but her sister-in-law’s reaction proved she’d guessed correctly.

“We did nothing of the kind.” Fiona’s eyes filled with tears. “We had nothing to do with his death. Grimshaw was talking to John, asking him to look at his invention, when all of a sudden he clutched his heart and fell over. Dear Lord, we both tried to help him, but it was too late. He was dead.”

Mrs. Jeffries stared at her skeptically.

Fiona jumped up and began pacing the small room. “For God’s sake, Hepzibah, you’ve got to believe me. I’m David’s sister. We were raised in the same house and shared the same beliefs. We went to church every Sunday. I may have been more ambitious than my brother, but I’m not a monster. I wouldn’t be a party to murder just to further my social ambitions.” She stopped in front of the fire screen and stared into the empty fireplace.

“But Grimshaw’s death is how you got John to marry
you, isn’t it?” Mrs. Jeffries said. “He was getting ready to propose to Antonia, but that day at the village fete, he suddenly announced he was marrying you.”

Fiona whirled around. “So what if it was the reason. He didn’t love Antonia. He was only going to marry her to save the family business. The Whitleys had money, but I loved him.”

“But did he love you?”

“I most certainly did.” John Sutcliffe stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. “And I’ve never regretted for one moment that she agreed to be my wife.”

“Oh, John.” Fiona rushed to him. “You weren’t meant to hear any of this.”

He pulled her close and kissed her gently on the lips. “You should have woken me. This is something we need to face together. Come, dearest, let’s sit down. I’d like to tell your sister-in-law what really happened that day.” They sat down close together, and he turned to Mrs. Jeffries.

“You’re right, I was going to ask Antonia to marry me,” he began. “I’d just taken over the company and discovered the finances were a mess. That day, we’d gone to our country house outside York for the village fete.”

“Was Ronald Dearman there?”

“He was Lucretia’s guest. I didn’t care for the man, but he was from a good family and he seemed to care for her, so I couldn’t object. Antonia and her family were there as well, but they weren’t staying with us. Everyone in the village was at the fete. I’d planned on asking Antonia for her hand after the picnic luncheon and then making the announcement at the afternoon tea in the parish hall, but before luncheon was served I went back
to the house. I can’t remember exactly why, but when I got there, a pony cart pulled up and this stranger got down. He was carrying a brown leather bag. He asked if I was John Sutcliffe and introduced himself as Eldon Grimshaw. He asked if I’d gotten his letter and I said I hadn’t. He asked if he could have a few minutes of my time and said he’d come all the way from Sydney to see me. It was still early and the fete was boring, so I agreed. We went inside and chatted for a few minutes. He told me a little about himself and said he was an inventor. Then he asked if I’d be interested in manufacturing a gear he’d invented. The moment I saw it, I knew it was an amazing piece of equipment. He’d come prepared; he’d brought his drawings and notes and showed me those as well. I immediately agreed to produce it and asked if we could discuss it the next day, which he said would be fine, he’d go get a room in the village. As I accompanied him to the door, I asked why he came to England to get it made, and he said he’d no family in Australia and wanted to start a new life here. I made some comment about it being such a wonderful piece of engineering that I was sure his colleagues must be green with envy, and he said no one but me had seen it.” He paused and took a deep breath. “That’s when he clutched his chest and keeled over.”

“Lucretia had sent me to the house to get her a fan,” Fiona interjected. “I heard Grimshaw talking to John and wasn’t sure what to do. When Grimshaw collapsed, I ran in to see if I could help. But he was gone. John was going to call the doctor, but I stopped him. I told him that he should keep the gear and manufacture it for himself. Grimshaw had just said he had no family, no heir,
and from the way he spoke, he didn’t even have any friends.”

“What happened then?” Mrs. Jeffries asked.

“John argued with me, he said it wasn’t right, but I pointed out that we were cheating no one and that by the time any rightful heirs were found and John could buy the device from them, Sutcliffe’s would be out of business.”

“The poor fellow was all alone in the world—I made sure of that before I put the gear into production. I engaged a private inquiry agent to ensure we weren’t cheating any of Grimshaw’s heirs.” He glanced at his wife, who stared at him in surprise. “I’m sorry, my dear. I never told you.” He looked back at Mrs. Jeffries. “But if I had found someone who was morally or legally entitled to that device, I would have handed it over right away.”

She smiled at him. She liked this man and was sorry they’d never had the chance to get to know one another. “I believe you, but what happened then? What did you do with Grimshaw’s body?”

Fiona clasped her husband’s hand. “We put him back in the pony cart, and John walked it down the road a piece.”

“Weren’t you frightened you’d be seen?”

“Everyone was at the fete. It was customary for the Sutcliffes to provide a very luxurious picnic luncheon, and no one wanted to miss that. I told John to make sure he turned the pony cart around so that when it was found, it would be facing toward the house,” she said.

“Giving everyone the impression that Grimshaw was coming from the train station but hadn’t actually arrived at the Sutcliffe residence,” Mrs. Jeffries said.

“That’s right, so if anyone is to blame for this, it’s me, not my husband,” she declared. “But we made a mistake,
and that mistake led Ronald to the truth. He found the wooden box that housed the gear. Grimshaw had etched his name on the top. We didn’t even realize it was gone, but Ronald had come in looking for John and found it. He kept it all these years.”

“So the name etched on the box led him to send inquiries to Sydney,” Mrs. Jeffries surmised.

“Yes. He found out Grimshaw wasn’t just a mechanical engineer, but an inventor,” John said. “It didn’t take him long to figure out the rest. He knew I wasn’t talented enough to invent such a brilliant device.”

“Why did he wait so many years to blackmail you?”

John frowned thoughtfully. “He was quite content with working at the firm until I brought Anson into the company,” he said.

Mrs. Jeffries looked at Fiona. “There’s only one reason you’d take a human life,” she began.

“To protect my husband.” Fiona smiled bitterly. “Yes, I’m capable of that, but in this instance I wouldn’t have had to. You see, I was going to give Ronald what he wanted. I was going to pay him off.”

“Really?”

“After he’d told me he had Grimshaw’s box and I’d foolishly shouted that I was going to murder him, we both calmed down. That’s when he told me he’d found and contacted Grimshaw’s solicitor in Sydney and his papers were being shipped to him.”

“And you were afraid the papers would prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that Sutcliffe’s hadn’t invented the gear,” Mrs. Jeffries finished.

Fiona nodded in agreement. “I told him he’d won and that I’d pay his price. I asked him how much he wanted.
He laughed and said he’d let me know. But he said he’d make it a reasonable amount. If you don’t believe me, you can ask Mr. Bodian. He’s a very discreet jeweler with a shop just off Regent Street. I took my diamond necklace to him for an appraisal. He offered me quite a good price for it.”

“Fiona,” John gasped. “How could you even consider doing such a thing!”

“Because Ronald was going to ruin us,” she replied evenly. “You didn’t see his face that night. He was positively glorying in the fact that he had the power to destroy not only you and me, but the company as well.”

“Why would he do that? It would destroy Lucretia,” John cried. “Their marriage wasn’t perfect, but surely he loved her.”

“Don’t be naive, John. He hated Lucretia and he hated you,” Fiona said.

“I always tried to do right by him,” he whispered.

“I know,” she said softly. She turned to Mrs. Jeffries. “As God is my witness, I didn’t kill him. I may be capable of such an action, but because one is capable doesn’t mean one chooses to do evil.”

“I know you didn’t kill him,” Mrs. Jeffries stated. “And neither did your husband.”

Fiona’s eyes widened. But before she could speak, Mrs. Jeffries continued. “That’s what you were really frightened of, isn’t it?”

“But I was in Birmingham,” he protested.

“True, but you were on the nine o’clock train, not the five forty-five,” she said. “And your wife knew it.” She was guessing about that, but she was certain she was right.

“Hilda Laidlaw saw you getting out of a hansom at
the station just before nine on Monday evening,” Fiona said to him.

“And she mentioned it to you.” His shoulders sagged. “I’m sorry, my dear, I didn’t want to lie to you, but there was another matter I needed to attend to before I left. It’s a rather delicate situation, and I only kept it from you to avoid causing you pain.”

“You mean Henry Anson.” She smiled sadly. “He’s your son. I’ve known since the first time I saw him. He looks like you. I’m surprised no one else has noticed the resemblance.”

“Oh, my darling, I’m so very sorry.” His face was a mask of misery. “I’d not hurt you for the world.”

“I know that.” She sighed. “But we’ll talk about it another time. Right now, we’ve got to decide what to do.” She looked at Mrs. Jeffries. “Should I hire a solicitor? I’ve a very strong feeling that your employer is coming back today to ask me to accompany him to stations.”

“I don’t know that we’re at that point yet, but I’m sure he’ll be back with more questions.”