Having wheedled an hour off from Mrs. Chubb, Gertie rushed her twins to the ballroom, where the rehearsal was already under way. As always, there was complete chaos as young women rushed to and fro, bumping into one another and arguing with wildly flapping arms, while Phoebe stood in their midst screeching instructions that everyone ignored.
Gertie was sorely tempted to take Lillian and James straight back to her quarters, but the twins dragged her over to the stage, loudly proclaiming their arrival.
Phoebe caught sight of them and yelled, “You’re late! All children are to go to the green room and stay there until you are called.”
Gertie felt like sticking out her tongue, but, mindful of her little ones, she contended herself with tossing her head before marching the twins backstage and into the green room.
The noise wasn’t much better in there. Three boys and two girls, all close to the twins’ age, were throwing stage props at one another, while one bored-looking mother sat knitting in a corner.
“The rest of the mums left me in charge of ’em,” she told Gertie, nodding at the screaming children. “They won’t take any notice of me.”
Gertie let go of the twins’ hands and yelled at the top of her voice. “Qui-et!”
The yelling subsided, and one of the boys stuck his nose in the air. “Who are you?”
Gertie dug her fists into her hips. “I’m the one with the blinking rolling pin, that’s who. Any more noise from any of you and you’ll get a bloody bonk on the head with it. So shut up and sit down. On the floor. All of you.”
Ignoring the other woman, who sat staring at her with her mouth open, Gertie pointed at one of the boys. “You. Pick up this flipping mess and put it all back where it bloody belongs.”
“It weren’t my fault!” he protested, but Gertie took a threatening step toward him and he darted off, snatching up clothes and wigs from off the floor as he went.
“All right, that’s better.” Gertie crossed her arms and glared at the children, including her twins. “From now on, you all sit still and don’t say a bloody word.”
A muttered chorus answered her.
“Good.” She dragged a chair from out of the corner and stuck it in front of her audience. “Now, you can all tell me your names, starting with you two.” She nodded at the twins.
James and Lillian both promptly announced their names, and the rest meekly followed. Just as the last little girl spoke her name, the door opened and Phoebe rushed in.
“Where are they? Oh, there they are.” She flapped her hands at the seated children. “Everyone up, up, up! It’s time to go onstage. Now file out in a line, one behind the other. That’s it! One, two, one, two…”
Gertie watched them all march out the door, then grinned at the mother. “I don’t bloody envy her one bit. She’s got her hands full, all right.”
The other woman folded up her knitting and shoved it into a bag. “I think you should be the one in charge of them. They pay attention to you. I don’t think they will behave that well with Mrs. Fortescue.”
Gertie patted her on the shoulder. “She’ll manage. She always does. Come on, let’s go and watch them from the front. It’s the first time mine have been in a pantomime. I can’t wait to see how they get on.”
She led the way out front, wondering just how long it would be before the children drove Phoebe crazy. That was always good for a bloody laugh, watching Phoebe Fortescue in one of her temper tantrums. It was usually the highlight of the whole flipping show.
Considering it was the first rehearsal, it didn’t go half-bad in Gertie’s opinion. Lillian burst into tears when told she was supposed to be a boy, but after romping around on the pirate ship for a while, she soon settled down.
Gertie was amazed at how fast Lillian and James took direction and remembered their parts. Phoebe strode about the stage giving orders and getting in everyone’s way, but somehow they all got through the scene without any huge mishaps.
Just as Phoebe called a halt to the rehearsal, Gertie felt a hand on her shoulder. She didn’t have to turn around to know who stood behind her.
“You did a lovely job on the pirate ship,” she said, smiling up at Clive. “It looks bloody real. Especially when it moves.”
He smiled back at her. “I’m still not happy with the wiring. It will take some more work before I allow anyone on it.”
“I’m just glad my twins don’t have to fly.” Gertie looked up at the harnesses hanging from the rafters. “It’s not that I don’t trust your work, but Mrs. Fortescue has a history of bad luck on this stage.”
“I know.” Clive followed her gaze. “That’s why I’m going to be extra careful.”
“Well, maybe this time nothing will go wrong.” She turned her head as Lillian called out Clive’s name and ran toward him.
He swept the child up in his arms and gave her a hug before setting her down.
Once again Gertie longed to know if he had children of his own. She knew, however, that this wasn’t the place or time to ask him. It would just have to wait until the sleigh ride. That was, if the snow didn’t all melt away before they could go.
To her amazement, he seemed to read her mind. “I think we should take that sleigh ride tomorrow,” he said, laughing as both Lillian and James let out a shriek of excitement. “If we wait too long there won’t be any snow left to ride on.”
“I’ll have to see if I can switch my afternoon off with someone.” Gertie saw the expressions of alarm on her children’s faces. “Don’t worry,” she told them. “I’ll manage it somehow.” She glanced at Clive out of the corner of her eye. “This time nothing is going to stop us going.”
Clive put his hand over his heart. “I promise. Tomorrow we go.”
Gertie watched the twins jump up and down and knew exactly how they felt. It had been a long time since she’d looked forward to something this much. All her previous doubts seemed to have melted away. Now tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough for her.
Cecily arrived at Caroline Blanchard’s home just as dusk was settling in over the countryside. The windows of the seamstress’s cottage glowed from the light of oil lamps, and a cheerful fire danced in the fireplace as she ushered her guests into the parlor.
After shooing out what seemed like a hoard of cats and dogs from the room, Caroline offered Cecily a cup of tea, which was hastily declined.
“I am in rather a hurry to get back to the Pennyfoot,” she told Caroline, ignoring Samuel’s look of disappointment. “I’m expecting guests to arrive, and I’m anxious to welcome them.”
“Oh, of course. Then we will go at once to the fitting room.” She headed for the door, nearly colliding with Samuel in his haste to open the door for her.
She gave him a stiff, “Thank you,” and sailed through, leaving him staring after her with a dazed expression on his face.
Cecily coughed, and he sprang back to let her pass. She thanked him and received a sheepish smile as she hurried out the door after Caroline.
Entering the fitting room, she noticed that all but two of the gowns had gone. Caroline must have been busy since Cecily last visited.
She soon forgot about it when Caroline helped her slip the ball gown over her head and button it up.
It fit perfectly, making her look almost slim in the long mirror. She turned this way and that, well satisfied with the way the silky folds fell smoothly from her hips to her ankles.
Caroline, however, seemed hesitant. “The latest fashions from Paris indicate a shorter hem this year,” she said, studying the gown. “I think I should shorten it just a little. I’m really busy right now but I could have it ready in the next two or three days.”
Cecily considered it, staring at her image in the mirror. The gown looked perfect to her, but on the other hand, if the ladies were wearing shorter hems this year she certainly didn’t want to look out of date, and it was too late now to order a new gown.
“Very well,” she said at last. “I still have some shopping to do. I can pick it up on the way back the next time I go into town.” She turned, looking over her shoulder for another view. “You have done an excellent job,” she told Caroline, who actually smiled at the compliment. “It looks wonderful, and now I can hardly wait to wear it.”
In fact, it pleased her so much she couldn’t resist adding, “Would you like to come to the Welcome Ball? It is usually reserved for the Pennyfoot guests, but you have made me look so elegant, I feel I should reward you in some manner. I would be most happy if you could join us.”
Caroline’s smile wavered. “Thank you, Mrs. Baxter. It is most kind of you, I’m sure, but I have no one to escort me, so I must decline.”
“Oh, that’s a shame.” Cecily turned her back so that Caroline could unbutton the gown. “If you should change your mind and can think of someone to escort you, then you will be more than welcome.”
Caroline bowed her head. “I doubt that will happen. I am quite content to spend my days here with my animals to keep me company. I find them more congenial than most people I meet.”
Cecily thought she heard a wistful note in the seamstress’s voice and felt sad for the woman. She was too young to be spending her life alone with only cats and dogs for companionship.
If it wasn’t for Pansy, she might have encouraged Samuel to court Caroline. Samuel loved animals, too, and had rescued a stray dog himself, so they had something in common.
Shaking off the thought, she returned to the parlor. Baxter was always chiding her for meddling in others’ affairs, and he would no doubt point out that in order for Samuel to make Caroline happy, he would have to break Pansy’s heart.
And that wouldn’t do at all.
She found Samuel petting a dog that looked vaguely familiar. Her stable manager looked up with an air of expectancy as Caroline entered, only to be disappointed when she deliberately ignored him.
“Come, Samuel, we must be on our way.” She waited for him to give the dog a final pat and then, with a hasty farewell to Caroline, hurried out the door.
Anxious now to return home, Cecily urged Samuel to hurry as they rattled and bounced over the country roads. She was thankful when they entered the Esplanade where the ride was a little smoother, thanks to the wheels of carriages and the occasional motorcar that had worn down the ruts.
The moment she entered the foyer she noticed the Christmas tree by the stairs. The footmen must have brought it in for Madeline. Its branches were bare right now, but Cecily knew the kind of magic Madeline was capable of, and had no doubt that she would turn the tree into a breathtaking vision of splendor.
Smiling, she crossed the carpet to the reception desk, where Philip was snoozing on his chair. Punching the bell to wake him up, she asked, “Have Mr. and Mrs. Lansfield arrived yet?”
Philip started, jerked his hand, and knocked over the pen-holder. Scrabbling to right it, he muttered, “Ah… yes, m’m. The Lansfield party arrived this morning.”
“Do you know where they are now?”
“I saw Mr. Lansfield pass by a short while ago. Mrs. Lansfield wasn’t with him.”
“She is probably in her room. Thank you, Philip.” Cecily headed for the stairs and hurried up them to the second floor.
The young woman who answered her knock seemed a little tense, no doubt due to the child crying somewhere inside the room. “Mrs. Lansfield is in the ballroom,” she said, in answer to Cecily’s inquiry. “I believe she’s rehearsing for a presentation of some kind.”
Taken aback, Cecily thanked her and once more headed for the stairs. What was Phoebe thinking of, asking Doris to perform in her pantomime? True, the songstress had obliged her before, but that was when she was still appearing on the stage. Doris was married now, with a child. Phoebe had absolutely no right to pester the woman now.
Cecily stormed down the steps, rehearsing exactly what she would say to Phoebe when she saw her.
She never reached the ballroom, however. Just as she arrived at the bottom of the stairs, Doris appeared in the foyer, followed by Daisy and Gertie’s twins, all chattering at once.
Lillian ran over to Cecily and threw her skinny arms around Cecily’s hips. “We had such fun,” she said, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “We learned to dance and sing and everything!”
Cecily patted her godchild on the head. “I’m so glad you’re having a good time, precious.”
At her words James came rushing over to her and tugged on her skirt. “I’m having a good time, too!”
Cecily put an arm around each of her godchildren and gave them both a peck on the cheek. “I shall look forward to seeing you both perform,” she told them.
Daisy broke away from her sister and hurried over to take the children by the hand. “I promised Gertie I’d have them back in their room before she had to serve supper,” she said, looking worried.
Cecily glanced at the clock. “You have a few minutes yet. Tell Gertie I kept them talking.”
Daisy grinned. “Yes, m’m.” She waved at Doris, then led the twins to the kitchen stairs.
Doris, who had followed her sister, watched them leave, then turned to Cecily. “It’s wonderful to see you again, m’m.”
“Oh, Doris, this is such a delight. It’s always so lovely to see you. Where is your husband? I’m dying to meet him. And little Essie.” Cecily waved a hand at the stairs. “I was just up at your room and I heard her when your nanny answered the door, but I didn’t like to disturb them without seeing you first.”
Doris looked anxious. “Was she crying? She cries a lot when I’m not there.”
Avoiding a direct answer, Cecily murmured, “Your nanny seems very capable. It’s probably just a phase the child is going through.”
Doris sighed. “She seems to have a lot of phases. Daisy offered to take care of her, but she has her hands full with the twins, and Essie isn’t used to her. Besides, what would Adelaide do all day without Essie to look after?”
“What, indeed.” Cecily glanced at the grandfather clock. “In fact, you should be spending this time with your family instead of performing just to please Phoebe. I’m most annoyed with her for demanding such an obligation from you. Shame on her.”
Doris laughed. “It’s quite all right, m’m, honestly. I’m really enjoying being onstage again. I haven’t done any singing since I got married and I do miss it.”
“But what about your husband? How does he feel about it?”
Doris shrugged. “Well, to tell the truth, he wasn’t all that happy about it at first. I think he was afraid that I’d have such a good time I’d want to go back to it. I couldn’t do that, of course. Not now. Once I told him that, he was all right with it.”
“Well, as long as you don’t mind. As for Daisy, I think she’d enjoy taking care of Essie now and then, if you wanted to give your nanny a little time to herself. Daisy is wonderful with the twins. I’m sure she could handle Essie beautifully.”
Doris nodded. “Maybe I will. You’re right, m’m. Daisy is good with children. I told her she should have some of her own instead of taking care of other people’s children.”
Cecily smiled. “Don’t let Gertie hear you say that. I don’t know what she’d do without Daisy.”
“Oh, Daisy would never leave the twins, m’m. I really think that if she were to get married, she’d want to take them with her.”
Cecily was still smiling about that as she made her way to the ballroom.
There was no sign of Phoebe when she entered, but Madeline was over by the windows, perched on a ladder high enough to make Cecily’s blood run cold.
“What are you doing?” She sped over to the ladder, hands outstretched. “Why aren’t the footmen doing that for you?”
Madeline turned her head to look down at her, her arms full of red velvet ribbons. “The footmen don’t know the difference between a bow and a loop, that’s why.” She tilted her head to one side. “You seem tense, my friend.”
“Tense? I’m practically rigid. Do come down from there before you hurt yourself.”
Madeline’s melodious laugh echoed up to the ceiling. “You know me better than that, Cecily dear. I can take good care of myself. Nevertheless, since it disturbs you so much, I’ll come down. I’m just about finished here, anyway.”
She leaned back to survey the gold and silver garlands she’d strung above the tall windows and looped all the way across the balconies.
“It looks marvelous,” Cecily declared. “Absolutely perfect. Now come down and I’ll have the footmen put up the bows tomorrow.”
Madeline descended the ladder far too swiftly in Cecily’s opinion and landed lightly on her feet at the bottom. “I have to gather holly and mistletoe from the woods in the next day or two. Kevin can bring them here in the carriage before he goes on his rounds.”
“I could have Samuel take you, if you’d prefer.” Cecily took the ribbons from her and laid them on a nearby table. “Just tell me when you want to go.”
“That would be wonderful, thank you. I hate asking Kevin when he’s so busy. This cold weather has filled his surgery with patients.” Madeline gave her a sharp, intense scrutiny. “Something else has happened, hasn’t it. Another victim of the Christmas Angel.”
Her friend’s remarkable ability to read her mind never failed to impress Cecily. “Yes, I’m afraid you’re right.” She went on to recount her visit to the Mackerbee farm.
“Everything seems to come back to Basil Baker,” Cecily added, as Madeline wound the ribbons up into balls and fitted them into a basket. “Yet everyone I talk to insists that he simply isn’t capable of murder.”
“And what do you think?”
Cecily picked up a ribbon and began winding it. “I don’t know what to think. I do know that given enough incentive, we are all capable of taking another’s life. But these seem such senseless, cold-blooded killings. I just can’t imagine the young man I spoke with being responsible for such evil.”
“What I find most disturbing is the locks of hair being taken from the victims.” Madeline took the ribbon ball from her and placed it in the basket. “It suggests that our killer is dabbling in the occult. There are certain… rituals that can be performed with locks of hair belonging to the deceased.”
Cecily felt a chill. “Such as?”
“Well, there are fortunate ones, such as passing on inherited talents to the descendants, and there are evil ones, such as sending souls to the devil.”
“You think our killer is performing one of these rituals?”
Madeline shrugged. “I can’t think of any other reason why he would take a lock of hair from all of his victims.”
“He could simply be trying to confuse everyone into thinking the murders were committed by an evil spirit or something.”
“He could. On the other hand, the murders could have really been committed by someone in league with an evil spirit.”
Cecily shivered. “If that’s so, I am at a distinct disadvantage.”
Madeline paused, one long ribbon dangling from her hand. “Whoever your killer is, Cecily, be warned. There is a diabolical mind behind these acts of violence, and such hatred has destroyed all reason. I beg you, be careful.”
“I shall, never fear.” Shaking off a surge of apprehension, Cecily smiled. “Now come, share a glass of sherry with me before you go out in the cold. I’ll have one of the footmen take you home.”
“No need.” Madeline packed the last ribbon away and shut the lid on the basket. “Kevin is stopping by to fetch me. He should be here any minute.”
“Oh, good.” Cecily led the way to the door, pausing to admire the golden garlands and silver bells hanging above the stage. “I would like a word with him, if he has time.”
“He always has time for you, my dear.”
Something in the way she said it made Cecily wonder if her friend knew that at one time, Dr. Kevin Prestwick had paid a great deal of attention to Cecily.
That was long before he’d married Madeline, of course, and even he must have forgotten about it by now. The one person who hadn’t forgotten was Baxter. He always acted somewhat antagonistic when in the presence of the good doctor, yet whenever Kevin needed help, Baxter was always the first one there to offer it to him.
As it was, Kevin was talking to Baxter in the foyer when she and Madeline arrived there.
“Ah,” Baxter said, when he spotted Cecily. “I do believe this is my wife, though I see her so rarely these days I’m not sure I recognize her.”
“Piffle.” Cecily smiled at the doctor. “Take no notice of him, Kevin. He’s still having trouble finding the Christmas spirit.”
Kevin reached for her hand and pressed it to his lips. “It is indeed a great pleasure to see you again, Cecily.”
Baxter muttered something under his breath, and she warned him with a quick frown.
“Likewise.” She pulled her hand from Kevin’s fingers. “I was wondering if you have time for a quick word or two?”
Kevin glanced around the empty foyer and lowered his voice. “About the recent murders, I presume?”
Cecily also looked over her shoulder. Satisfied they were alone, she asked, “What can you tell me about them?”
“Not much.” Kevin hunched his shoulders. “They were brutal. The victims were obviously attacked by someone in a great rage. All three had a chunk of hair missing and a stamp stuck on their forehead.”
“All three?” Baxter’s sharp voice interrupted. “There’s another one?”
Cecily cursed herself for forgetting she hadn’t told him. “Yes, dear.” She laid a hand on his arm. “I’m sorry, I should have mentioned it. Mr. Mackerbee from Mackerbee’s pig farm. His wife found him stabbed to death.”
Baxter eyed her with suspicion. “When did you come by this information?”
“Last night, dear. I didn’t want to spoil the evening by bringing up such a morbid subject, and I quite forgot to mention it this morning.” She sent Madeline a meaningful glance, hoping that her friend would interpret it. It would save a lot of awkwardness if Baxter wasn’t informed of her visit to the Mackerbee farm.
True, he had grudgingly given his blessing for her investigation, but the less he knew, the less he worried, and the more freedom she’d have to continue.
Even so, he eyed her now with alarm. “This is beginning to sound as though we have an exceptionally dangerous criminal lurking out there.”
Cecily patted his arm. “They are all dangerous, my love. Until they are caught, which they usually are in the end.”
Baxter’s mouth had pulled into a thin line. “Yes, but this is different. From what I hear, the victims are random, with no obvious reason for their murders and no connection to each other. Which means anyone could be the killer’s next target. Including you.”
Cecily shook her head. “I disagree. The fact that all three victims had locks of hair missing and gold angels stuck to their heads is symbolic of something. There’s a connection there somewhere, and once we find that, we’ll find the killer.”
Baxter looked to Kevin for help. “What do you think? Just how dangerous is this killer?”
Kevin shrugged. “This person is obviously greatly disturbed and therefore highly unpredictable. I tend to agree with Cecily, however, that there is a link between the victims. All we have to do is find it.”
Baxter nodded. “That’s all you have to do. Never mind the danger.”
Afraid she was losing this argument, Cecily tugged on his arm. “Darling, you know I promised you to take the utmost care. The people I question have nothing to do with the murders. They are the victims. They have all lost loved ones. I’m here to help them and try to prevent someone else losing someone they love. They will not hurt me.”
Madeline finally spoke up. “Don’t worry, Baxter. Your wife is an intrepid and clever sleuth. No one will get the better of her, I promise you.”
Cecily smiled her thanks, while Baxter looked unconvinced.
“Well, my dear, we should be getting home,” Kevin announced, taking his wife’s arm. “We must spend a little time with our daughter before she lies down to sleep.”
Cecily walked with them to the door. “I know I don’t have to remind you,” she said, “that it’s imperative we keep quiet about all this murder business. We don’t want to start a panic in the village, though I suppose it will only be a matter of time before word gets out.”
Kevin looked grave. “I’m afraid the rumors have already started. Two of my patients have asked me what I know about the Christmas Angel. I’ve done my best to reassure them but, as you say, it’s only a matter of time.”
“Then we must find this killer, and soon.”
“I agree.” He stood aside to allow Madeline to exit.
“I’ll see you in the morning, Cecily!” With a wave of her hand, Madeline stepped out into the cold night followed by her husband.
Cecily watched them go, Madeline’s words ringing in her ears. No one will get the better of her, I promise you. She could only hope that would prove to be true.