It was some consolation to know he hadn’t fallen hard for the dead woman, but he seemed to feel guilty, as though not wanting to be with her had somehow hastened her demise.

  He said, “She was going to meet me tonight. I was planning to tell her then.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “She seemed very taken with you,” he said. “I understand you were out together last night.”

  “We were. And she was fun. She and Jemima. We had a wonderful time.”

  The stunned expression lightened for a moment as he looked puzzled. “Jemima Taft? I would never have thought of her as a fun person.”

  “You’ve only seen her in business. When she lets her hair down, she’s practically a different person.”

  And I had the hangover to prove it.

  To my surprise, Rafe made coffee. I didn’t know he could make coffee. Every time I’d come here, it was always William who did the cooking and coffee-making and serving. Turned out not only could he manage to brew a decent pot of coffee, but he brought a mug over to me, already milked and sugared, exactly the way I liked it. He put coffees in front of William and Olivia too.

  “Thank you,” I whispered.

  I drank some coffee and then felt fortified enough to ask, “How did she die?”

  Rafe said, “Obviously, it’s not public knowledge yet, but she was strangled.”

  Instinctively, I put my hand to my throat. “Strangled. But who? Why?”

  “There’s no clear motive yet. No culprit’s been apprehended.”

  “What do the police know?”

  “Very little. The killer used rope or line.”

  “What about Jemima? Is she okay?”

  “As far as I know. It was her cleaners who discovered the body. She’d gone to work.”

  “Gone to work? Didn’t she notice anything?”

  He shook his head. “Jemima’s bedroom is the floor above. She claims she never heard anything.”

  “What do you mean she claims? Do the police think she did it?” It made no sense to me. “Why would she kill her best friend?”

  “No idea. Did they seem like they were having any kind of conflict last night?”

  I shook my head. “Not that I could see.”

  “Poor girl,” William said.

  I stared into my coffee. “It wasn’t even her house. Someone must have seen her and followed her there.”

  “Did anyone seem particularly interested in her last night?”

  Once more I shook my head. I thought of the waiter, so attentive, gliding in and out of our sphere. Could he have developed some crazed fascination with her? The lobby bar hadn’t been that busy, and no one had seemed particularly interested in us.

  A bell rang in the kitchen. One of a line of servant’s bells like old manor houses have. We all looked at each other, startled. Olivia said, “That’s the front door. You stay here, William. I’ll get it.”

  We stayed where we were, all of us half listening, and then Olivia reappeared with Detective Inspector Ian Chisholm and a sergeant I didn’t recognize.

  “Ian,” I said. Probably it was a stupid thing to say, as he was here on official police business. I knew him personally, partly because he was a customer at my shop on behalf of his aunt, who was a great knitter and couldn’t get out much. However, we had briefly dated. And we did seem to cross paths more often than either of us would have liked in an official capacity. As we were now.

  “Lucy. I didn’t expect to find you here.”

  “I’ll go.” No doubt he was here to talk to William.

  He motioned me back down into my chair. “No. Stay. You were on my list anyway. This saves me a trip.”

  Olivia, who had smoothly stepped into William’s role, said, “Coffee?”

  He shook his head. “No. Thanks.” Then he sat at the table. His sergeant remained standing, notepad in hand.

  “I’m sure you know why I’m here.”

  William nodded. “The unfortunate death of Felicity Stevens, I assume.”

  “That’s right. Can you tell us when you last saw her?”

  “Yes. Yesterday morning. We met in town for a coffee.”

  “How did she seem?”

  “The same as always. Cheerful. Full of energy and plans.”

  “Did she mention anything that was worrying her?”

  William took a moment to think about it, then shook his head again. “No. Mind you, I didn’t know her that well.”

  “How did you meet?”

  There was a tiny pause. “She was at a dinner I catered.”

  He nodded as though he probably already knew this. “And who put on the dinner?”

  “Jemima Taft.”

  He nodded. No doubt he’d already heard the story from Jemima and was checking that William’s story was consistent. “And what’s your relationship with Miss Taft?”

  Again, that infinitesimal pause. “She’s my financial advisor.”

  Ian spoke each word succinctly. “I understand Ms. Taft only deals with high net worth individuals. Her business card mentions bespoke wealth management.”

  And there it was, the reason William had been hesitating slightly. But he had no choice. He had to tell them how he knew Felicity, and it was through Jemima. He said, “I inherited some family money.”

  “How fortunate,” Ian said in a dry tone. “Was Felicity Stevens also a high net worth individual?”

  That was an odd question. William seemed to think so too. He said, “You’d have to ask Jemima. I don’t know.”

  “You two didn’t talk about money?”

  “Felicity and I? No.”

  “What did you talk about?”

  William shrugged. “This and that. Our backgrounds. Hobbies in common. She was taking up knitting. I introduced her to Lucy.”

  I’m sure he hadn’t meant to transfer the hot potato to me, but that effectively did it. Ian turned his gaze to me. “Yes. One minute she’s buying wool, and the next minute you two are out at a swanky hotel guzzling champagne?”

  He made it sound like there was something unsavory going on. I told the truth. “Felicity was starting to knit, and she brought Jemima into my shop thinking that she might take up knitting, too. We hit it off, and they invited me to meet them for drinks last night.”

  “At the Wainwright Hotel.”

  I could see what he was getting at. A knitting-shop proprietor probably wouldn’t normally spend a lot of time at a hotel with those prices. “It’s not my usual venue. In fact, I’d never been there before. But Jemima had a dinner meeting there, so Felicity and I had a drink in the lounge, and then Jemima joined us when her dinner was over.”

  “And what did you and Felicity talk about when you were alone?”

  Oh man, I wished that we could do this without William sitting right there listening to every word. “We talked about being single and living in Oxford. She asked me how I came to be in Oxford. She told me about herself. Getting to know you chit-chat. She lost her job recently, and we talked about that.”

  I’d hoped to lead him down the path of her losing her job due to the inappropriate actions of her boss. Ian didn’t follow me. “Did you talk about William?”

  I wondered if Jemima had said something about Felicity’s plan to bag the wealthy butler. I couldn’t even look at William. “Yes. As a matter of fact, we did.” I paused this time, marshaling my thoughts. “Felicity knew that William and I were friends, and she wanted to know more about him. Like I said, it was girl talk.”

  “And did she seem upset about anything?”

  I couldn’t tell him about the hex, obviously. All I said was, “She had quite a bit to drink. And at the end of the evening, she broke out in a rash. She was upset about that.” He hadn’t asked about whether I’d noticed scales on her body or claws for hands, so presumably Margaret was right and the hex had died with her.

  “And what time did you leave the Wainwright?”

  “It was about midnight. Jemima had a car hired for the evening and offered me a lift home. We dropped them off first.”

  “Who’s we?”

  “The driver and me. His name is Dick. I have his card if you need it.”

  He shook his head. Jemima must have given him her driver’s information already.

  “Did you see anyone hanging around when you dropped them off? Anything at all suspicious?”

  I’d been so busy focusing on that dragging foot that I hadn’t seen anything else. But I took the time now to go back in my mind and picture the area. “I think the street was deserted. I don’t remember any traffic or pedestrians, but that’s a very quiet, residential neighborhood. The front garden is behind a hedge, but I watched them go through and take the path to her front door. I didn’t see anyone. But the driver might remember more.”

  He nodded. No doubt he’d managed to figure that out for himself.

  “Is there anything else you noticed, Lucy? Anything at all?”

  Now that I knew she’d been murdered, I no longer felt any obligation to discuss hexes and reversing of same. I shook my head. “No. I wish I could help. She was young. Had so many plans. I didn’t know her very well, but I hope her killer doesn’t get away with it.”

  He nodded and then said, “Thank you for your time.”

  Almost as an afterthought, he said, “After Jemima Taft joined you, you didn’t notice any tension between the women? Did it seem like there was anything between them?”

  He’d already asked me this. “No. I’d have said they were the best of friends. If anything, Felicity looked up to Jemima. I think Jemima was everything she wanted to be.”

  He turned and took a step back towards me. “What do you mean by that?”

  “No doubt you’ve met Jemima?”

  He nodded.

  “I don’t know if she would have been the same this morning, seeing as she’d just discovered her friend was murdered, but when I’ve met her, she’s been cool, controlled, professional. She’s wealthy and dresses impeccably. She mixes with aristocrats. Felicity is someone who wants that life. Sorry, she was someone who wanted that life. I think she was a somewhat jealous person.”

  In fact, if Jemima had been strangled last night, I might have suspected Felicity Stevens. I didn’t say anything, but Ian obviously followed my train of thought.

  “Do you think that jealousy might have been mutual? Could you think of a reason why Jemima might have wanted to hurt her friend?”

  Obviously, it was the simplest scenario. The two of them alone in that house and one killed the other. But I wasn’t buying it. “No. I really don’t. I think, while Felicity looked up to Jemima, Jemima saw Felicity as someone she could let her hair down with. Jemima is extremely professional and has to operate at such a high level all the time that I think Felicity was someone she trusted completely and she could be herself with.” I supposed I should feel flattered that she’d trusted me enough to let loose when I’d made their duo a trio.

  “All right. You’ve been very helpful. Thank you.”

  Olivia left to escort the police officers out, and we all waited, thinking our own thoughts, until she returned. Then Rafe said, “Do you think it’s possible that Felicity Stevens had something on Jemima? Could she have been blackmailing her?”

  “You think Felicity was blackmailing her best friend?” This was William, and he sounded horrified.

  It was an awfully good theory, though. “And Jemima killed her to stop the blackmail?” I asked.

  Rafe gazed across the table, as though the answers might be found by staring out the kitchen window. “It was just the two of them in that house all night, apart from the murderer.”

  “If there was an outside killer, how did they get in?” I asked Rafe.

  I could ask him these kinds of questions because he always knew. His network of contacts was extraordinary.

  “There was a main floor window open a few inches.” He looked at me. “She has a cat.”

  I left a window open for my cat, too, but I lived on the second floor. It was impossible to install a cat door in an upper-level apartment.

  But Jemima Taft should probably invest in a cat door.

  Chapter 20

  It felt anticlimactic now that the police had gone. William still looked stunned, and I was torn between relief that it sounded like the hex hadn’t caused Felicity’s death and horror that violence had, and only hours after I had left her.

  I had become so accustomed to getting involved in solving murders that it felt strange not to take a hand in this one. But it really wasn’t my business.

  I was about to say I should probably get back to my flat when Rafe said, “We should call a meeting of the knitting club.”

  “You’re thinking about knitting, now?”

  He flicked me a glance. “No. Theodore has some very useful contacts and a nose for digging out the truth. Even Hester, as challenging as she can be, is developing some very good skills on the computer.”

  “What are you getting at?”

  “They could help us solve the crime.”

  It was true. The vampire knitting club had lots of skills between them. Not least the ability to walk around at night all but unobserved while the rest of the world slept. However, I wasn’t sure getting involved was a good idea.

  “Rafe. This really isn’t our business.”

  The look he turned on me was fierce. “You were with Felicity Stevens on the last night of her life. I need to be absolutely certain that whatever provoked her killer doesn’t touch you.”

  The normally warm kitchen suddenly felt chilly. “Why would her death affect me?”

  He shook his head. “Until we know why Felicity Stevens was murdered, no one can answer that question.”

  “Do you think I’m in danger?”

  “Probably not.” Not as reassuring as absolutely not would have been. Probably left way too much wiggle room.

  William looked up then and said, “Yes. I think that’s a very good idea. We should try to find out what happened to poor Felicity.”

  That decided it. I said, “Okay. I’ll head back and start setting up the back room so it’s ready for our meeting tonight. You let the others know.”

  “No,” Rafe said, stopping me in my tracks. “Let’s have the meeting here. William should be part of it.”

  Obviously, William could have come with him to my shop. I suspected there was more going on here than he wanted to tell me. Knowing Rafe, he wanted me under his roof. And under his eye.

  I often found his worry about me a little overprotective, but right now I found it endearing. I could keep busy and get through the day without dwelling too much on the murder, but once it was just me and Nyx in my flat all alone, I’d start obsessing over Felicity’s death. There was a pretty good chance that Nyx would have important cat business to see to outside, which would leave me completely alone. Maybe holding the vampire knitting club at Crosyer Manor wasn’t such a bad idea.

  Of course, I didn’t want to give in too easily. Rafe needed to know he couldn’t push me around. I lifted my chin. “For William’s sake, we’ll make an exception. But the vampire knitting club meets at Cardinal Woolsey’s. Let’s not make a habit of this.”

  He looked suitably reprimanded. “Agreed.”

  William made my concession completely worthwhile by looking up and saying, “Thanks, Lucy. I know she wasn’t my girlfriend or anything, but she was a friend. I don’t think I can rest until we’ve at least tried to find out what happened to her. And even better, stopped the killer in their tracks.”

  Rafe seemed very relieved. “Why don’t you stay for the afternoon. Work on your knitting. Let William cook for you. I also want to show you some of the passages I’ve translated in that extraordinary book I showed you.”

  I rose. “I can’t. I need to make sure things are okay at the shop. And I have a couple of things to do.”

  William said, “Will you come back for dinner? It will do me good to have somebody to cook for. I’ll make dinner for you and Olivia.”

  I could hardly turn down an offer like that. Especially as I understood that cooking soothed William. I thought it was how he made sense of the world. So I agreed.

  “I’d better get going, then, so I can be back in time for dinner.”

  Something about my tone made Rafe look at me sharply. “What are you intending?”

  Darn it, he could read me like a book. “Nothing.” Which of course immediately made me sound like I was planning something.

  His gaze settled on my face, and then he said, “No.”

  I grew immediately huffy. “What do you mean no?”

  “No. You’re not to go and see Jemima Taft. I forbid it.”

  Naturally, I grabbed onto the last bit of that sentence. “You forbid it? Who are you, my dad?” Not that my father could stop me doing anything anyway. I was an adult. Nearly thirty, for goodness’ sake.

  “Lucy, Jemima Taft is the most likely person to have murdered Felicity Stevens. You’re not to go near her. Let the police do their job.”

  “Says he who just called a meeting of the vampire knitting club to figure out who killed William’s friend.” Ha, I had him there.

  “That’s different. We’re a group of friends trying to solve a murder with the clues and knowledge at hand. We aren’t pushing ourselves into the path of the murderer.”

  I shook my head. “Jemima Taft is no more a murderer than I am. Besides, she probably needs a friend.”

  The thought that that very cool, poised woman might turn to me was a bit ridiculous. No doubt she had hundreds of posh friends to lean on. Still, she and I were the only two people who had been with Felicity last night. I felt like we should hash out the evening and see if there’d been something that happened or some clue Felicity had dropped that I’d missed and maybe Jemima had caught.

  While these thoughts were going through my head and I was trying to figure out how to express them, my mobile phone rang. I didn’t know the number, but I answered it anyway. It was a local Oxford number.

  “Hello, Lucy speaking.”

  “Lucy. This is Jemima Taft.” Her voice sounded higher-pitched and jittery. Which I perfectly understood.

 

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