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

  Jacqueline was wearing a seafoam-green sun hat, which matched the piping on her black dress perfectly. She gave us a warm smile.

  “A pleasure,” I said. “I’m Scarlett Parker and this is my cousin Vivian Tremont.”

  “Oh, I’ve heard of you,” Jacqueline said. “My dear friend Sally Abbingdon raved about the hat you made for her for her son’s wedding.”

  Viv beamed and I glanced away as they all began to talk hats and what the latest trends were in the hat world.

  The rest of our tablemates began to sit and more introductions ensued. I glanced across the wide veranda and noticed that most of the other family members who were acting as table hosts were already seated. The only one I didn’t see was Geoffrey.

  As I made my visual sweep, George, looking quite fabulous in his caterpillar-inspired fedora, waved at me. I waved back unable to suppress my grin when he tipped his brim at me and finished it with a wicked wink.

  “Is it just me or should Tina be here by now?” Viv whispered in my ear.

  “She should be,” I said. “And Geoffrey is missing, too.”

  “Do you think she found out—” Viv began but I interrupted.

  “I don’t know,” I said.

  I knew she was thinking the same thing I was: that maybe Tina had found out about him and his secretary groping in the garden.

  “Why don’t you act as hostess and I’ll go look for her,” I said.

  Vivian nodded and I rose discreetly from my seat and stepped back until I could fade into the open door behind me. Once in the house, I retraced our steps from before. I knew the best person to ask about Tina’s whereabouts would be Buckley, assuming he was done assisting Ms. Whittles out the door.

  I didn’t see Buckley in the foyer, but I saw a caterer in an apron hurrying off in what I assumed was the direction of the kitchen. Sure enough, after a long hallway and three sharp turns and down a short staircase, I was standing in the heart of the house: the kitchen.

  The catering staff had overtaken the room and they were buzzing in and out with full trays as a cluster of chefs prepped each one. Buckley was overseeing the events with a critical eye and I thought the Grisbys were lucky to have such a detail-oriented man at the helm.

  “Ms. Parker,” Buckley said when he noticed me standing there. “How can I assist you?”

  We moved off to the side of the room and out of the waiters’ way.

  “Actually, I was just wondering if you’d seen either Geoffrey or Tina,” I said. “The tea is about to start and neither of them were at their tables.”

  Buckley frowned. “I have not. I was busy escorting our visitor into a waiting police car and then had to hurry back to make sure the tea got off. I’ll send some staff up to their rooms to make certain they are aware that the tea has begun. I’ll have someone check the grounds as well.”

  “Thank you,” I said. “That would be most helpful.”

  With a nod, I left him to go back to the tea. On my way, I got turned around. I was in a hallway that I was pretty sure I had not been in before when I saw a door that led outside. I decided to go out, thinking I’d just walk around the side of the mansion to get to the veranda, as it would be easier than getting lost in that maze of a house.

  A gravel path led from the door and into the gardens. I was in a section of rosebushes that were so lovely and pungent that they took my breath away. Deep-crimson blossoms mixed with cool lavenders and vibrant yellows. I told myself I had to bring Viv back here if we got the chance, because the blooms were positively inspiring.

  I heard the trickle of a fountain and found myself in a section of garden that was sculpted yew bushes. A herd of galloping horses towering above my head circled the fountain as if in a perpetual race with forelegs raised and heads thrashing; it was something to behold. I spun around, amazed at the talent it would take to prune these bushes with such fine detail.

  I had all but forgotten the tea when I saw a flash of bright blue underneath the edge of the sculpted bushes. I crept forward, thinking maybe it was an exotic bird or flower. Yeah, no such luck.

  As I crept through the opening in the bushes and stepped into the next section of the garden, I saw that the bright blue was the Mad Hatter’s hat and facedown on the ground beside it was Geoffrey Grisby.

  Chapter 8

  I hurried forward and crouched on the ground beside him.

  “Geoffrey, are you all right?” I asked. “Geoffrey? Mr. Grisby, can you hear me?” Did I really think he was more likely to answer to Mr. Grisby than Geoffrey?

  I shook his shoulder, but he remained unresponsive. Could he be passed out drunk? I hadn’t seen him drinking, but that didn’t mean anything. Maybe the clinch I’d seen him in earlier had been booze induced.

  Oh Lord, this was going to be mortifying for the both of us if he was pickled. Still, I couldn’t leave him facedown in the dirt. Geoffrey wasn’t a small man, so I had to crouch down, reach across him and haul him over onto his back. It was like trying to heave a very large sack of potatoes. I thought he would grunt or flail or make some sort of groan or moan. But no, and when he landed on his back, I understood why. Geoffrey Grisby’s vacant eyes stared up past me at the leafy canopy overhead. He was dead.

  The scream that emerged from my mouth sounded as if it had been forcibly ripped from my chest. I scooted back from the body, tripping on my own skirt in my haste to get away.

  I caught myself on a stone bench and braced myself while the shock and horror poured over me in waves. I couldn’t catch my breath and my lungs felt tight as if they couldn’t expand to let air in. I stared at Geoffrey’s chest: there was no rise and fall, and he never blinked.

  I needed to get help and fast. I’d only gone two steps when Andre came skidding down the steps.

  “I heard a scream,” he panted. “Scarlett, are you all right?”

  “No,” I said. I grabbed for him, craving the reassurance of a warm body next to mine. “I found Geoffrey Grisby.”

  I pointed and Andre let out a scream that was equally as high-pitched and terrified as mine.

  “Is he—?” he asked.

  “Dead? Yes, I think so.” I heard footsteps coming through the garden and I yelled, “Over here.”

  I heard a shout and in seconds Buckley appeared with several servants in tow. He glanced at me, and I pointed to Geoffrey. Buckley took over. He knelt beside the body and did a quick examination. After a few moments, he shook his head.

  Looking gray and drawn, he pulled out his phone and called for an ambulance. The conversation was short, and as he ended the call, he turned to one of his men and said, “Go back to the house. When the ambulance comes, have them use the side entrance. I don’t want to disturb Mrs. Grisby or the tea.”

  “It’s a bit late for that, I’d say,” his assistant said and nodded over Buckley’s shoulder. He glanced back and saw Dotty Grisby making her way down the stairs toward us.

  Buckley strode forward as if he could shield Dotty from the sight of her son. Her mind might not be all there, but there was nothing wrong with her eyesight.

  “Geoffrey? Is that Geoffrey?” she asked. “Whatever is he doing down there?”

  Buckley took her arm and whispered in her ear. Dotty frowned at him. Then she moved around him with a strength of purpose I wouldn’t have suspected.

  She knelt beside her son. She studied his face. I heard her breath catch and then she released a wrenching sob.

  “Oh, my dear boy,” Dotty said. “My precious boy.”

  With a shaky hand, she reached up and smoothed his thin hair. She laid her palm against his cheek and her face crumbled as if the force of her grief snapped her composure to the breaking point.

  Andre stood beside me and I pressed my shoulder against his. He put his arm around me and we stood as silent as the statuary in the garden as we witnessed the grief of a mother, grappling with the he
art-wrenching blow life had just dealt her.

  We didn’t move until one of the staff appeared with several medical personnel in tow. More staff were dispatched to hold the party guests at bay. Fancy hats kept popping up over the hedge, and I realized the entire party must have heard what was happening by now.

  Andre and I were pressed back as the medical team set to work. It took them very little time to confirm the obvious. Geoffrey Grisby was dead.

  I heard a commotion in the assembled guests. I glanced up and saw Daphne push past the servants trying to keep the area clear.

  She took one look at her mother kneeling beside her brother, and she shrieked. Mayhem ensued. The rest of the family pushed forward. People were yelling and screaming. Andre and I were pushed even farther back.

  Rose was cowering in a corner of the garden while George kept a protective arm around her, Daphne was shouting, demanding to know what had happened. Liam was trying to calm his mother down while Dotty was sobbing onto her son’s still form with Lily kneeling beside her, holding her mother’s hand.

  Buckley put two fingers to his lips and let out an earsplitting whistle of such a high pitch that I was pretty sure that every dog in the city would start to bay in protest. It worked and everyone quieted down as they turned to stare at him. He took the opportunity to command the situation.

  “Please get back to the house, all of you!” he ordered. No one argued. Not even Daphne.

  He then knelt beside Dotty and helped her to her feet. With a gentleness that bespoke great affection, he escorted her out of the garden. When she would have turned back, he said, “No, I’ll take care of him, Ma’am. I promise.”

  Andre and I were about to follow when Tina came tripping into the garden from behind us.

  She took in the scene with wide eyes. “Whatever has happened?”

  Then she glanced past me. “Is that—?”

  “Geoffrey,” I said. “I’m so sorry, Tina. He’s dead.”

  The medics were just loading him onto a stretcher when she raced forward.

  “No! No!” she cried. She pushed up against them, clutching at Geoffrey. “Stop! I’m his wife. His wife!”

  The medics paused and gave her some space. I glanced over to where Buckley and Dotty had been, but they were already out of sight.

  “I don’t understand,” Tina said. “What happened?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. I felt horribly inadequate as if there could be some reasonable explanation for finding a middle-aged man dead in a garden.

  I twisted my fingers together and felt Andre’s hand squeeze my shoulder.

  “I’m sorry, Ma’am, we have to take him away now,” the medic said.

  As they took Geoffrey away, Tina curled one arm about her middle as if holding her shock and grief in tight against herself. I left Andre’s side and approached her.

  “I’m so sorry,” I said. “Here, let us walk you back to the house.”

  She nodded. “What was he doing out here?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “When I found him, he was already gone.”

  “You found him?” she asked. Her steps were unsteady as we made our way up the stairs. I reached out a hand to brace her.

  “Yes,” I said. “I was looking for you.”

  “Oh,” she said. She glanced away.

  “Where were you?” I asked.

  “I was freshening up,” she said. She didn’t meet my gaze. “Excuse me, I should go to Dotty.”

  She pushed away from me and strode ahead. It was then that I noticed a smear of dirt on the back of her dress, the same dirt that had been on Geoffrey’s jacket that was now on my dress from turning him over.

  “I have to tell you, Scarlett, this is the absolute last time I am going on a photography assignment with you,” Andre said as we made our way back to the house.

  “You make it sound like it’s my fault,” I protested.

  “Not your fault, just—” His voice trailed off.

  “Just what?” I pressed. We walked through the remaining section of garden and across the small stretch of lawn to the house.

  “I don’t want to offend you,” he said.

  “Too late,” I growled. “Tell me what you were going to say.”

  “Well, you’re ruddy bad luck, aren’t you?” he asked.

  “Ah,” I gasped. “That was rude.”

  “Sorry,” he said. “But you can’t deny that you’ve invited me out twice, and twice, we’ve—”

  “Stumbled upon bodies?” Viv supplied as she met us at the bottom of the stairs that led to the terrace. She put her arm around me and gave me a bolstering hug. “You all right, cousin?”

  “You mean other than being ruddy bad luck?” I asked, giving Andre a sour look.

  “Well, you do seem to attract the stiffs,” Viv said.

  “Exactly,” Andre said. “It’s just not normal.”

  I sighed and glanced around the veranda. The party had taken on a macabre feel, with everyone clustered into groups whispering about Geoffrey and speculating about what could have happened.

  Marilyn Tofts was in the corner by the bar. I could see her big purple hat moving as she was having an animated conversation with the caterer. I imagined she was trying to concoct a way to spin the events of the day around to make it the most fabulous dead man’s tea ever. Uncharitable of me for certain, but finding a body will do that to you.

  I scanned the crowd but I didn’t see anyone from the family and I imagined they were holed up in one of the mansion rooms somewhere, trying to cope with what had happened.

  “I don’t think you comprehend me,” an older woman was saying to Buckley. “I wish to have my car brought round, and I wish to leave now.”

  “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Pennyworth,” Buckley said. “The police have asked us not to let anyone depart, as they wish to ascertain whether anyone saw what might have happened to Mr. Grisby.”

  “They want to question us? I won’t have it.” The woman looked outraged. She was a tiny little bird of a woman whose white curls peeped out from beneath the brim of her smart sunflower-yellow hat. Her dress was a drab brown, but she wore a wide patent leather belt and loafers in the same eye-poking shade of yellow as her hat. “Did you hear me? I won’t have it.”

  “No, not questioning,” Buckley said swiftly. “Merely, they wish to know if anyone saw Mr. Grisby take ill.”

  Mrs. Pennyworth narrowed her eyes at him. “So it was natural causes, then, that caused his—”

  She seemed at a loss for words, but Buckley finished the sentence for her.

  “Collapse,” Buckley said. “Yes, it appears so.”

  I could tell by the way he glanced away from her that he really had no idea what had happened to Geoffrey but this was the official story for now.

  “I don’t feel well,” Andre said from beside me.

  I glanced at him and noted that his dark complexion had gone ashen.

  “You’re not going to throw up this time, are you?” I asked.

  “No,” he protested. “Maybe. Oh, bloody Nora! I’ve got my gallery opening in a few days. I can’t be having a turn like this.”

  “Settle down,” I said. “Your opening will be fine. I promise.”

  “What if he had some dreadful disease that was contagious?” Andre asked. His eyes were wide with fear.

  “Oh, good grief, I’m quite sure it wasn’t,” I said. I could see the guests standing closest to us were leaning nearer as if to listen. “Probably, it was just a heart attack.”

  “But you don’t know that, do you?” Andre insisted.

  Viv was watching us with a worried expression. Then she stood up on her tiptoes and waved to someone behind us.

  “Over here,” she called. “We’re over here.”

  I glanced over my shoulder to see who she could be greeting.
I felt my insides lurch when I recognized the thick head of brown hair and the bright-green eyes of Harrison Wentworth.

  Chapter 9

  He shouldered his way through the crowd toward us, looking every inch the man in charge, from his perfectly tailored charcoal-gray suit to his shiny black shoes. For some reason, I found this particularly annoying.

  I turned to Viv. “Did you call him?”

  “Yes.” She didn’t add it, but I could hear the unspoken “duh” in her answer.

  “But why?” I asked.

  Viv gestured to Andre. “He is in no shape to drive us home. Did you want to try and take the tube?”

  I glanced back at Andre, who was enthusiastically shaking Harrison’s hand. “Thanks for coming out, mate.”

  “No trouble,” Harrison said. “What’s happened? Your text message was quite cryptic, Viv.”

  “Geoffrey Grisby was found dead in the garden,” Viv said.

  “What?” he asked. He glanced at the three of us and then his eyes narrowed on me. “Who found him?”

  “I did,” I said. I tipped my chin up in defiance. I wasn’t really sure what I was being defiant about, but I didn’t like the way he was looking at me as if he had suspected that I would be the one to find the body, so up my chin went and I crossed my arms over my chest for good measure.

  “Oh, Ginger,” he said. The sympathy in his eyes almost had me walking right into his arms for a comforting hug. I shook it off.

  “I’m fine, Harry, completely fine,” I said.

  He raised his brows at my use of his childhood nickname.

  “Well, I’m not,” Andre said. He shuddered. “Gah, I am going to be sick.”

  “Come with me,” Viv said and she grabbed his hand. “I know where the loo is.”

  Together they hurried through the crowd. I watched until they were inside, hoping Andre wouldn’t get sick on anyone along the way.

  I turned back to Harrison to find him watching me. Still, he looked like he wanted to give me a hug. It would have been nice, too nice, so I forced myself to think of something else.