Death of a Mad Hatter (A Hat Shop Mystery) Read online

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  “You changed your name?” Dotty asked Viv. “How extraordinary.”

  Viv stared at her for a second and then clearly decided that it did no good to insist she wasn’t Mim.

  “Yes, I feel more like a Viv than a Ginny,” she said.

  “Huh.” Dotty patted an errant gray curl by her temple. “Maybe I’ll change my name. I always fancied myself a Catriona.”

  Tina gave her mother-in-law an alarmed look. “Dotty, we really should explain our purpose so that we don’t keep these kind ladies from their business.”

  “Yes, you’re right,” Dotty said. “But I do love the idea of a new name.”

  “Are you in need of a hat for a specific occasion?” I asked, thinking to get the conversation on track. “Fee, would you bring us some tea?”

  “Right away,” she agreed.

  “I’ll just go and attend the books,” Harrison said. “If you’ll excuse me, ladies.”

  I watched as he and Fee shared a laugh as they left the room and wondered what they could be discussing that was so amusing. I suspected it was me in my lavender hat.

  “Don’t you agree, Scarlett?” Viv asked. She was seated in our cozy sitting area with the Grisbys and all three of them were watching me.

  “Um,” I stalled and when I glanced at my cousin, she had her lips pressed together as if she was trying not to smile. I quickly sat down.

  “The Grisby family is hosting a tea in honor of Dotty’s late husband and they are planning to have an Alice in Wonderland theme,” Viv said.

  “Oh, I like that idea,” I said. “How can we help?”

  “Well, it’s to be a fund-raiser so that we can name a wing of the hospital after my husband,” Dotty said. “Each family member will host a table, and we’d like them to wear hats that can be tied to characters from the book.”

  I glanced at Viv. Being the creative quotient in the business, this was really her call.

  “When would you need these by?” she asked.

  “We’re hoping to have the tea in late June,” Tina said. She gave us an apologetic look. “I know it is short notice.”

  “Ginny doesn’t mind, do you, dear?” Dotty asked. She patted Viv’s hand as if they were old friends.

  I tried to remember Mim mentioning Dotty Grisby, but I couldn’t bring the name up in any of my memories. Of course, given that I was only here on school holidays, I wouldn’t have as broad a frame of reference as Viv would. Judging by Viv’s surprised expression when Dotty had hugged her, however, I was betting Viv didn’t remember her either.

  Fee came out with a tray loaded with tea, biscuits, cheese, and fruits. The Grisby ladies enjoyed a cup each and nibbled some of the food. It was agreed that Viv would work up some sketches and they would come in to see them next week.

  Dotty took Viv’s arm as we walked them to the door. The older lady looked so happy to see her dear friend that I was glad Viv had decided to go along with Dotty’s faulty memory. I fell into step beside Tina.

  “Your cousin is being very kind,” Tina said. “Please tell her that I appreciate it.”

  “I will,” I said. “It must be hard to watch Dotty struggle with her memory.”

  “Honestly, she’s been like this since her husband left her thirty years ago. Her reality is different from everyone else’s and, as my husband explained it to me, it is just better if we go along with her.”

  “Thirty years ago?” I asked. “I’m sorry, but did I understand that she wants the wing of a hospital named after him?”

  “Yes, well,” Tina lowered her voice. “They never divorced. He lived in Tuscany with his mistress until he died a month ago. She always told everyone that he was away on business, and I think she managed to convince herself that was the truth. One does wonder, though . . .”

  “What?” I asked.

  “If that’s why she is slightly addled,” Tina said. “She never got over him leaving her.”

  A driver was outside waiting for them and Viv and I waved as they drove away.

  Harrison came out from the back room. “The books are done for this week and I’m pleased to announce you’re still in business. How did it go with the madames Grisby?”

  “They want a tea party à la Alice in Wonderland,” Viv said. “It’ll be tight, but I think I can get it done.”

  Harrison made a face.

  “What? I think it will be great fun,” I said.

  “You would,” he retorted. I was pretty sure this was an insult, but I didn’t press it.

  “What about you, Viv?” Harrison asked. “How do you feel about it?”

  She was quiet for a moment, staring out the window as if contemplating something. When she turned around, she gave us a wicked smile.

  “If it’s a mad hatter that they want, then it’s a mad hatter that they’ll get,” she declared.

  I exchanged an alarmed glance with Harrison. Between Mrs. Grisby’s dottiness and Viv’s Cheshire cat grin, I was beginning to feel as nonplussed as Alice when she fell down the rabbit hole. Oh dear.

  Chapter 2

  “No, no, no, oh goodness, no!” Marilyn Tofts, the posh event planner that the Grisby family had hired to pull off their Alice in Wonderland tea, was flipping through Viv’s sketches. So far, there was a whole lot of “no”s happening and not much else.

  Viv was hand stitching several white silk roses and a cluster of berries onto the outside of a sweatband on a periwinkle-blue wide-brimmed sinamay hat. I watched her fingers nimbly move over the fabric. She didn’t even seem to notice or care that Marilyn Tofts was rejecting every one of her sketches.

  I glanced at the Grisby ladies. Today Dotty had returned with Tina, as well as two of her daughters, Daphne and Rose. Daphne was pacing across the front of the shop. So far she had spent all of her time on her phone haggling with her son over attending the tea party in a way that reminded me of a carnival hustler trying to get suckers to come knock over the bottles at his booth.

  “I’m afraid these are not up to my standards,” Marilyn announced with a sniff. She waved her hand dismissively at the sketches.

  I narrowed my eyes at her. When I’d heard the Grisbys had hired Ms. Tofts, I had done some research. She was a very ambitious event planner and was making a name for herself in London as one of the go-to party planners for the elite.

  She certainly looked the part. She wore a flirty little floral skirt under a tailored jacket with the very latest in shoes by Stella McCartney. Her long honey-colored hair was done in an old-Hollywood-starlet style that swooped over one of her eyes and I imagined was supposed to be sexy but made me wonder if she was just hiding an advanced case of pinkeye. Not nice of me, I know.

  Her makeup consisted of a heavy hand on the mascara and eyeliner and a bold red lipstick that matched her finger- and toenails.

  I didn’t like her. Maybe it was the fact that she was dissing my cousin’s work, maybe it was the dimple in her cheek when she smiled—a smile without humor—or maybe it was just the overall feeling of poseur that I got off of her. She struck me as one of those people who, lacking their own creative gifts, liked to diminish the genius of others while pretending to hold some high ideal that could not be met.

  Petty. That’s the word I was looking for to describe her. She struck me as someone who kept score, and the score always had to be in her favor. Mercifully, she was not our client—the Grisbys were, so I really didn’t give two hoots whether she liked Viv’s designs or not.

  It was time for a power play. I crossed the small sitting area and gathered up Viv’s sketches. Then I sat beside Dotty and Tina.

  “So, here they are,” I said. “Have a look and see what you think.”

  “I beg your pardon,” Marilyn said. “I’ve already said these won’t do.”

  Her lips were puckered as if she’d tasted something sour.

  “And we absolutely v
alue your opinion,” I said. This was my tactic for telling people what they want to hear while completely ignoring them. Works like a charm.

  Viv kept sewing but I saw the corner of her mouth twitch.

  “Well, I should think so. I am the event planner,” Marilyn said as if this were news.

  “And as such, I’m sure you’ll want the input of the people whose party you are planning,” I said.

  I turned my back on her and held out the sketches to Dotty.

  “Oh, thank you, dear,” Dotty said. She perched her reading glasses on the end of her nose and studied Viv’s sketches. “Oh, I like that.”

  I glanced at the paper. They were looking at Viv’s sketch for the Mad Hatter’s hat. It was the standard top hat that the Mad Hatter always wore, but Viv had made it bold in bright-blue fabric with white polka dots. The hat band was contrasting red and tucked into it was the In this style 10/6 note, which was how the original illustrator of the book Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and its sequel,Through the Looking Glass, Sir John Tenniel, had depicted the hat.

  “What does that mean?” Tina asked. “The ten and six?”

  “It means the cost of the hat is ten shillings and six pence,” Viv said.

  “Nice detail. I’m impressed,” Tina said.

  “Don’t be. I looked it up,” Viv said with a smile.

  She checked the flowers on the hat to see that they were securely fastened and then she tied off her thread, snipping the end with a pair of embroidery scissors that were in the shape of a stork. I remembered they were Mim’s old scissors, and it made me feel nostalgic to see Viv use them.

  “Ginny, I just love how you’ve livened up the idea,” Dotty said. She reached over and patted Viv’s hand. “I think these will do very well.”

  “I thought her name was V—” Rose began, but Tina shook her head.

  The two of them looked at one another, and I saw Rose give Tina a slow nod as if understanding a secret message. They were two of a kind: both brunettes with stylish cuts and clothes that looked casual but were exquisitely made and came with a matching price tag.

  “Well, I can see that my services won’t be needed for this party, since my opinion is obviously of no interest. I am sure there are other events I can be attending to,” Marilyn huffed.

  “Here now, what’s this?” Daphne asked as she tucked her phone back into her clutch purse and joined the group.

  “Apparently, my opinion of the hat designs is of no importance,” Marilyn said. “So I am assuming that my services as the event planner are not required either.”

  “Oh no!” Daphne cried. “You simply have to work on the tea party. Tell her, Mother.”

  Dotty didn’t look up. Instead she shuffled the sketches until she got to the next one.

  I glanced at Daphne. She was in full-on middle age, with thick hips and hair beginning to go gray, not that she was letting it win that battle. I imagined her colorist was making a fortune off of her trying to keep her chin-length hair the shade of ash blonde she had going. Given how enamored she was with Marilyn, I assumed she was the type to buy into the other’s pretentions.

  “Mother, are you listening?” Daphne asked.

  Dotty glanced up. “Don’t worry, dear,” she said. “I’m sure it won’t make any difference to Brenda whether Ms. Tofts or someone else plans the tea.”

  Marilyn and Daphne looked at one another and gasped.

  “You never said!” Marilyn accused Daphne.

  “I didn’t know!” Daphne protested.

  “Mrs. Grisby, under the circumstance, I’ll be more than happy to plan the tea party,” Marilyn said. Her tone was clearly groveling.

  I frowned. Obviously, I was missing something, like who the heck was Brenda?

  “Well, that’s excellent news,” Dotty said. “Perhaps you should go see to the caterers, then; I do think my friend Ginny has the hats in hand.”

  “Of course, my pleasure,” Marilyn said, all but bowing as she made her way to the door.

  Daphne walked her out and I could hear the two of them whispering excitedly as they went.

  “Mum, what are you playing at?” Rose asked. She pushed her black-framed glasses up her nose.

  “Why nothing,” Dotty said. “My friend Brenda is coming up from Brighton for the tea, and I’m sure she doesn’t care who does the planning.”

  Viv and Tina both burst out laughing, while Rose shook her head and looked nervous.

  “All right, catch me up,” I whispered to Viv. “What’s the inside joke?”

  “My friend Dotty just pulled one over on Ms. Tofts,” Viv said. “Brenda is the queen’s nickname amongst her staff, so she made it sound like—”

  “The queen would be attending the tea,” I finished for her with a smile. “Very clever.”

  “Until Daphne figures it out,” Rose said worriedly. “Then she’s going to have a fit.”

  Although I had only just met her, I got the distinct impression that Rose was the peacemaker in the family. As the youngest, she was very quiet, almost timid, and seemed to get agitated if anyone showed any sort of upset.

  “She’ll be fine,” Dotty said dismissively. “Now, how are we going to decide who will wear which hat?”

  I glanced at Viv. I had no idea if she’d put any thought into this or not. Things could get dicey if family members wanted the same hat.

  “Geoffrey asked to be the Mad Hatter,” Tina said.

  “Of course he did. Whatever Geoffrey wants Geoffrey gets,” Daphne said as she rejoined the group. She looked grumpy at the mention of her brother, and I exchanged a glance with Viv.

  “Lily has to be the rabbit,” Dotty said. “She’s always late. It’s perfect.”

  Rose nodded, but Daphne looked even more sour.

  “Tina, I think you should be Alice,” Dotty said.

  “What?” Daphne snapped. “Why her? She’s not even a Grisby, not really.”

  “She is your brother’s wife, and since he is the sole heir to his father’s fortune, she is the lady of the house, so it is only fitting that she be Alice.”

  “Just because darling Daddy forgot that he had three other children—” Daphne sniped, but Dotty held up her hand.

  “That’s enough,” she said. “Do not speak ill of your father to me.”

  Both Tina and Rose looked tense while Daphne visibly seethed. “Fine. Just make me Tweedledee or Tweedledum. I couldn’t care less.”

  With that, Daphne stormed out of the hat shop, slamming the door so hard in her wake that the glass rattled.

  Dotty glanced after her daughter. “All right, then. Tweedledum it is.”

  Chapter 3

  Viv and I waved through the glass when the Grisby family finally departed. I was not sorry to see them go. Tina was nice, but Dotty was definitely not all there. Daphne, I wanted to hand a large Pimm’s Cup and tell her to calm down, and Rose was so meek, I just wanted to kick her.

  That’s horrible of me, I know. I am usually excellent with people, all people, but I discovered when I was working in the hospitality industry back in the States that the one sort of person I really struggle with is the helpless whiner. Ironic, yes?

  You would think that since I am such a pleaser, the high-maintenance, needy type would be my favorite, but no. The martyr thing just irritates me. If the light in your bathroom is out, call the front desk; we’re happy to fix it. Don’t wait until the end of a five-day stay to mention it and act all put out because we didn’t know. How could we know, since you didn’t call and you refused maid service? Argh! Sorry, old issues. But Rose Grisby was definitely one of those martyr types and I just wanted to slap a backbone into the girl before she wilted into a helpless heap of boo-hoo-hoo.

  “So, I’m thinking Rose could be the Cheshire cat,” Viv said.

  “Really?”

  “It would force he
r to have some oomph, don’t you think?”

  “Maybe,” I said, which was my polite way of saying no. “I really thought Dotty should be the Mad Hatter, you know, because she’s nuts.”

  “No, that would be much too obvious.” Viv laughed. She turned away from the door and looped her arm through mine. Together we walked into the workroom at the back of the shop.

  Fee was there working at the large wooden table in the center of the room. She was brushing fabric stiffener onto a wooden hat form that had a red straw fabric stretched and pinned to it.

  She glanced up when we entered. Her face lit with a smile but then dimmed as she recognized us.

  I glanced at Viv. “I don’t know about you, but that felt like a snub.”

  “No question,” Viv said. “She absolutely snubbed us.”

  “No!” Fee cried and shook her head. “I’m sorry. I just thought you were someone else.”

  Again Viv and I exchanged a glance. “Do tell,” I said. “Who were you expecting?”

  “Oh, no one,” Fee said. She turned away.

  Viv raised one eyebrow whispered, “Do we press her or let it lie?”

  “Let it lie,” I said. “This time.”

  Viv looked reluctant but then shrugged. “Tea, then?”

  “Sounds good,” I said.

  Viv went to fill the kettle while I foraged in the cupboards for something to snack on. I glanced at Fee out of the corner of my eye. The truth was I didn’t want to press her because I had a feeling she’d been hoping that we were Harrison and I did not want my suspicion confirmed.

  The thought that she might be crushing on our man of business bothered me, but I wasn’t sure why and I really didn’t want to talk about it and be forced to acknowledge something I wasn’t prepared to deal with.

  “So, how are things shaping up for the Wonderland tea?” Fee asked.

  “Once we got rid of Tofts the event planner, it went very well,” Viv said. “I’ll need your help with the hats, of course.”