The Bachelor Girl's Guide to Murder (24 page)

Jem looked Merinda over. She wasn't clad in trousers, but rather a plain, comfortable dress. “You can't go without an escort.”

“I know! Which is why I have one.” Merinda snapped her fingers. “Jasper!”

Jasper appeared, dressed in a dapper suit and red tie. “Do I look the part, Jem?” he asked.

“It's a bit too big,” Jem observed, wondering where Merinda had located the getup. “But you look quite handsome, Jasper. Now, Merinda, women of Gavin Crawley's class do not go to the Danforth races in common tea dresses. If Jasper has to look the part, so do you.”

Jem was quite aware of the ticking clock and her tardiness to her shift at Spenser's, but she nevertheless spirited Merinda upstairs and performed a sort of magic. Moments later, draped in lavender—both the scent and the color—and with a wide-brimmed hat tipped at a fashionable angle on her blonde head, Merinda entered the sitting room. Jasper fingered his tie and adjusted it, trying to disguise his approval of Merinda's appearance, to no avail.

“Oh, close your mouth, Jasper,” ordered Merinda, narrowing her eyes at his gaping mouth. “You look like a fish.”

Jem leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. “You look dashing, Jasper. But I must run.” She grabbed her handbag and set out the door. “Good luck!” she called over her shoulder.

“Aha!” Merinda said to Jasper, alive with an idea. She scurried off to the kitchen and returned with pomade she had purchased in case such an occasion might arise.

Jasper looked at a pot of gel in her hands. “You cannot be serious!”

“Constable Jasper Forth has brought murderers to justice and cleaned up the streets of our most dastardly criminals, and yet he goes weak at a little pomade!”

“How did I let you talk me into this?”

“Eyes front.” She slicked the sticky substance on to her palms.
Jasper was on edge: a cat threatened with a bath. Then, she counted: “One, two… ” She didn't wait until
three
before running the goop through his hair and slicking it down.

Jasper blushed something fierce. “It's cold and slimy.”

“One moment!” She took her sewing scissors and trimmed his hair at the back. “Good. Let's go.”

Jasper positioned a straw boater atop his head and Merinda wrapped her shawl around Jem's dress, its sash tied several times around her waist. She surveyed Jasper: bowtie, pin-stripes, two-toned shoes, white carnation. They looked the part.

“Well, Pygmalion.” Jasper took Merinda's arm. “Do you feel as ridiculous as I look?”

“Indeed.”

Jasper had commissioned young Officer Jones to escort them. Despite Jasper's recent demotion, he retained many loyal colleagues ready to pounce at his signal.

Upon arrival, Jones opened the door of the automobile for Merinda and helped her step out. Jasper led Merinda across the lawn of the beautiful, gated structure, beyond which were the racetracks.

“Do you know anything about racing?” Jasper wondered, thoroughly enjoying the warmth of Merinda's arm in his own. He had accumulated quite a few minutes of that pleasure on this trip alone. Leaving the townhouse had given them nearly four minutes. Down King Street to meet Jones and the automobile, another four. Now again! Even through the gloves she wore, her touch sparked his arm under his too-big jacket.

“Absolutely nothing,” Merinda admitted.

“I know a bit from a few cases. Shouldn't be too difficult to find out a bit more about Gavin Crawley, not if those notes and planners Kat and Mouse stole are testament to his enthusiasm for gambling.”

“Mmm.” Merinda was distracted with hoisting up her skirt to step over a muddy patch on the lawn.

“And if this all comes to a head, I hope you'll let the police take over.”

“I hardly think that is going to happen, Jasper.”

“We'll see.” He smiled in spite of her tone. “This is nice, you know?”

“What is? Narrowing in on Gavin Crawley?”

“Spending time with you. Being on the King beat I haven't had any time for our Saturdays at the University labs.”

“And I have been solving crimes.”

“Yes, you have.” Jasper was still counting the minutes of their physical touch. This slow stroll across the lawn had given them another two minutes, ticking deliciously to three. It helped that Merinda wanted to play the part of a lady at the races.

Inside the racetrack arena, they encountered a kaleidoscope of chaos and color, shuffled movements, shouts of disappointment, and fists thrust high in the air. The smell of cigar smoke mingled with sweat and alcohol. Merinda could hear the swift, frantic plod of hooves without having to look at the horses on the track. Like a chugging train, they barreled along with frantic energy.

Men behind caged grates, not unlike bank tellers, doled out bids and bets.

Jasper put a hand in the small of Merinda's back and was surprised when she didn't back away. This play-acting was marvelous, he decided. How long could he keep Merinda playing the part of doting and attentive female?

They stood silently, and hopefully inconspicuously, for a few moments. The rhythm of the bettors and races and socializing ebbed around them like the tide.

Merinda nudged Jasper. “Look!” she hissed. “Tony.”

“Tony?”

“Tony Valari. DeLuca's brother-in-law.” She tried to point inconspicuously. “And there's Forbes.”

“Aha. Yes, I'm acquainted with Mr. Forbes.” Jasper pulled her into the shadows. Beside Tony and Forbes lurked a small blond man with a broad forehead and elfin ears.

“Is it all here?” Elf Ears squeaked in Forbes's direction.

“Yes,” Forbes grunted. “Mr. Crawley—”

“Mr. Crawley owes me three hundred dollars. This is not nearly enough.”

Forbes grabbed the little man's lapel. “This is what you get today.”

“I expect interest!”

Merinda and Jasper exchanged a look. Gavin was in financial trouble—this they had already deduced. But he was still playing bookies and skimping on debts? How did he keep Tony and Forbes on his side? How could he pay his lackies? How could he keep taking Jem out to the finest places?

Tony joined Forbes in leaning over Elf Ears. “You're not the only one he owes money to. He owes me.”

Jasper and Merinda watched as Forbes counted bills out to Elf Ears. With the money in hand, Elf Ears walked to the cages and placed a bet. Tony and Forbes wandered to the bar.

Jasper and Merinda followed them. The lounge afforded a view of the tracks, and Merinda was fascinated by the voice of the commentator. His speedy lips hastily projected words, his voice at turns in peaks and plateaus, mirroring the furious pace of the horses.

“Stay here.” Jasper walked to the bar and ordered a couple of lemonades. He got a clear look at Tony and Forbes and settled at the bar to wait for the drinks, and to listen.

“He owes so many people,” Tony said, his voice as heavily accented as DeLuca's.

Forbes nursed his whiskey. “Not my problem.”

“If he can't pay them, how can he pay us?”

“You're right daft, aren't you, Valari?” Forbes smirked. “Montague. And he said he had something else up his sleeve.”

The bartender brought the lemonades and Jasper was about to carry them off when Merinda joined him at the bar. They exchanged
a look and tried to look disinterested, even as Forbes took a moment to swivel on his chair and overlook the nearly empty bar. Everyone else, it seemed, had opted to sit in the sun and watch the horses under its bright rays.

“After the election,” Forbes said snidely, “things will change. Montague owes them both a lot of money. It's a bet. Just like this one,” he said, indicating the racetrack. “Montague owes Crawley for keeping his stupid Morality Squad in the
Globe
and the Corktown Murders out. He knew the bad press from those murders could turn the tide of the election for him.”

“I don't understand,” said Tony.

Forbes sighed. “Horace Milbrook has decided his first order of business is to clean up hygiene in the Ward. That means no more of Montague's ramshackle housing, like St. Joseph's. Then, he is going to come down on illegal working conditions. Make sure workers in the garment factories and such are paid decent wages. Spenser and the rest of the city businessmen need Montague to stay in office if they don't want to lose a lot of money on those immigrants' paychecks.”

Merinda and Jasper couldn't believe their ears.

“But you haven't been paid and I haven't been paid,” Tony said. “I am getting a little tired of doing work with only the
promise
of future payment.” He shook his head. “There are other ways to get money besides just waiting on the city's bigwigs.”

Before Merinda and Jasper could hear what those other ways would be, Tony and Forbes left, perhaps to place another bet against money still owed to them.

Merinda and Jasper had heard enough. As they crossed over the soft green grass again, Jasper kept his arm looped with Merinda's. How many moments had he won now? Touching her arm gently. Pulling her close. Happily keeping his chin from colliding with her hat.

“You're in a lovely mood today, Jasper,” Merinda said.

“I am! Beautiful day! Something to report on the criminal activity of Crawley, Forbes, and Tony.” Not to mention something on the
order of thirty minutes of physical contact with Merinda. “When I bring this information to the station, they'll let me off probation early! And to think, I didn't really have to do anything but sip lemonade with you at the races!”

“About that… ”

“I might even get a promotion once they finally nab them. They won't make it halfway to Chicago. Why, I might—”

“You can't tell anyone, Jasper!”

He stopped. “Pardon me?”

“
I
need to solve this, Jasper. I know Gavin is linked to the Corktown Murders. Jem and I are
this
close.”

“It doesn't work like that, Merinda. Two girls can't wipe out a city's worth of crime. The operation that Crawley is running has some major players in its ring. This is about more than two dead Irish girls. This is at the heart of our political system. It has ramifications for all of our citizens. Some of our leading men. If—”

“I know! I know! Using cheap labor and farming out thugs.” She grabbed tightly to his arm and stared up into his wide blue eyes. “Jasper, I know you won't deny me this.”

“You're not playing fair! You know how I… Well, you know—”

“I know you can't say no to me. Especially when I look up at you and bat my eyelashes.” She batted them playfully.

Jasper tried to be cross with her. He shut his eyes so he wouldn't watch those eyelashes. But even with his eyes closed, a smile snuck out, and he knew Merinda Herringford was going to get her way.

*
This was a better excuse, she decided, than telling him her affections were for a reporter with ink-stained fingers and a crooked smile.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN