Murder at Longbourn

left the room. Sensing my disgust, Aunt Winnie shot me a quelling glance. I took a deep breath and reminded myself that we were here to learn what we could from Jackie and Linnet. The dynamics of their relationship was not our concern.

Aunt Winnie said smoothly, “This is a lovely place you have here, Linnet.”

“Thank you.” Linnet sat back down on the sofa. “I like it.”

Turning to me, Linnet said, “So, tell me about yourself, Elizabeth. I never got a chance to really talk to you the other night. Do you live near here?”

I replied that I didn’t and was soon being politely but firmly badgered with every question imaginable as Linnet tried to sketch my character. I could see her snobbish little mind churning as she attempted to discover if I was A Person of Quality or merely the kind of person who has to buy her own silver. When she asked me what my father did, it took all of my restraint not to reply, “Well, Mother thinks he was a sailor.”

Finally, Jackie returned with the drinks, putting an end to my inquisition. “Thank you, dear,” said Linnet, taking her glass from the wooden serving tray. After handing us our wine, Jackie sat down on the sofa next to Linnet.

“I was just saying to Linnet what a gorgeous home this is,” Aunt Winnie said to Jackie.

“Isn’t it?” Jackie gushed. “Some mornings when I wake up and look out my window at the ocean, I think I must be dreaming. Of course, this whole last week has been like a dream—although more of the nightmare variety.”

“Jackie’s sure she’s going to solve the case,” Linnet said, with the faintest hint of condescension.

Aunt Winnie and I looked questioningly at Jackie, but she only shook her head, sending the yellow folds of her hat flapping. “That’s not what I said, Linney, and you know it. All I said was that there was something wrong that night.” She turned to us. “I haven’t put my finger on it yet, but I know it’ll eventually come to me. It’s on the edge of my subconscious—I just have to be patient and let it swim up.”

Linnet took a sip of her wine. “Have the police learned anything more?” she asked.

Aunt Winnie shook her head. “Not that I’m aware of. Although Elizabeth and I haven’t had much contact with them since that night.”

Jackie gave a birdlike tilt of her head and peered at me from underneath her hat. Taking a sip of wine, I returned her gaze, hoping my face didn’t give me away.

“Have either of you heard anything?” Aunt Winnie asked in turn. Her tone was one of casual politeness, but I knew how much hope she had pinned on Jackie knowing something—anything—that would help her own situation with Detective Stewart.

Jackie leaned forward eagerly. “Well,” she began.

Linnet abruptly stood up and said, “Ladies, why don’t we go in for lunch now? Trust me, once Jackie gets started on this topic we’ll not be able to get a word in edgewise.”

Jackie closed her mouth and stood up. “She’s right,” she said, smiling. “This whole thing has consumed me. I can think of nothing else. You all go in, I’ll get the lunch.” She turned and left the room, waving away Aunt Winnie’s and my offers of help.

“Ladies,” said Linnet, with a regal nod of her head, “if you’ll follow me.”

She led us out to an area just beyond the living room. Composed mainly of windows, it overlooked the tumbling blue waters of Nantucket Sound. In the far distance, a ferry inched its way across the horizon. Below us the beach was empty, save for a few seagulls out cleaning their feathers. Their bodies turned into the wind, they stood motionless on the hard sand.

In the middle of this breathtaking room, an elegant table set for four awaited us. Like the living room, it resembled a picture from a magazine. Each place boasted a crystal goblet, several dishes of light blue bone china, a starched replica of a bishop’s hat, and numerous pieces of gleaming silverware. In case there was confusion as to where we were expected to sit, tiny silver snowmen held up heavy white place cards with our names on them. Aunt Winnie and I cooed appreciatively, although privately I thought it more than a little silly for a luncheon for only four people. Then again, my usual lunch consisted of a grilled cheese sandwich or a can of chicken soup, so who was I to complain?

We had just taken our seats when Jackie returned carrying a large tray laden with bowls. She quickly set out the first course—steaming, thick clam chowder.

“Oh, my, thank you, Jackie, Linnet,” said Aunt Winnie. “Everything looks lovely, especially this view.” She gestured to the bank of windows.

“Isn’t it wonderful?” Jackie said, taking her seat. “I love to sit out here with my crocheting and stare out at the water. It’s a delightful way to pass the time and plan and think.”

Linnet gave a light laugh. “And what are you planning, Jackie?”

Jackie ducked her head. “Oh, nothing, really,” she said. “It’s just a figure of speech. I only meant that this is my favorite room to sit in.”

“Do you crochet much?” I asked Jackie.

“Oh, yes,” she said enthusiastically. “I love it. It’s really quite addicting. I’m crocheting an afghan. Now, where did I leave it?” She turned in her chair. “Oh, there it is.” Getting up, she walked over to a wicker basket on the floor.

She pulled out a wide swath of material that was clearly the beginning of a massive afghan or a tent. She held it up proudly. A large white stripe ran across the top, followed by a green one and then a blue one. “I’m almost done with the blue section,” she said. “Next I’ll start on the yellow.” She eyed the afghan critically before adding, “And then I think I’ll be done. I’m not sure. I may add a stripe of red after that.”

“It’s very nice,” I said. “I tried to knit a sweater once, but it came out all wrong.”

“Sweaters are harder,” Jackie said kindly. “That’s why I stick with straightforward patterns like scarves and afghans. I made Linney a scarf for Christmas.”

Linnet smiled. “Oh, is that what it is? I thought it was a shawl.”

“Now, Linney,” said Jackie, “you know perfectly well it’s a scarf.”

“I know, dear,” said Linnet. “I’m only teasing. I think we’re now ready for the next course.”

Like a well-trained servant, Jackie put down the blanket and quietly disappeared. During the ensuing awkward lull we could hear the surf pounding onto the beach below. Jackie returned quickly with poached salmon, new potatoes, and Caesar salad.

Once Jackie had again resumed her seat, Aunt Winnie said, “I imagine the view here is fantastic in the summer.”

“Yes,” said Linnet. “Well, I’m hoping so, anyway. Of course, I’ve only been here a month now, so I wouldn’t know. But it does have great promise.” Her crimson nails lightly tapped the stem of her wineglass. “I always wanted to live on the water, but Martin would never agree to it.” She shook her head before adding, “There are so many things I didn’t do because of that man. In some ways this situation with Gerald reminds me of Martin.”

Seeing the surprise on our faces, she added quickly, “Not, of course, that Martin was murdered. What I mean is that like Martin, Gerald controlled everybody around him. Now that he’s gone, Lauren and Polly are free to live their lives the way they want to.”

“Yes,” said Jackie. “It’s a shame how Gerald kept Polly practically locked up. That’s no way for a young girl to live. I hope she didn’t have anything to do with his death and can go on and live her life now. Speaking of which, I saw her in town today. She was talking with that woman who is staying at the inn—what’s her name? Joan? Polly looked quite upset.”

“You saw Polly with Joan Anderson?” I asked, surprised. First they had been out in the snow together the night of the murder, and today they had been in town together. It might all be innocent, but then again, it might not be. I made a mental note to mention it to Detective Stewart.

“Yes,” Jackie said. “I waved to them, but I guess they didn’t see me. By the time I crossed the street, they had moved on.”

I’ll bet they had, I thought. If I were Polly and had seen Jackie bearing down on me, I would have moved on, too. At a full sprint, if necessary.

“What about Lauren Ramsey? Don’t you feel sorry for her?” said Linnet.

“No.” Jackie idly turned her gold post earring as she spoke. “I don’t. I don’t think she’s a very nice person. I doubt if she ever loved Gerald. I think she used him for his money. If you ask me, I don’t think she cares at all that