The Outsmarting of Criminals: A Mystery Introducing Miss Felicity Prim (31 page)

The Lost Children

Miss Prim had hoped to sleep in, to rejuvenate after the stressful events of the previous day. But she hadn’t been able to relax, and her sleep had been fitful and unsettled. So she rose early, dressed, and began preparing the cottage for the afternoon gathering.

Dolly woke shortly
thereafter and offered to take Bruno for a walk.

“Oh, Miss Prim,” she said sadly. “I hardly slept a wink. I feel so awful. I just can’t believe how badly everything went awry. I want to confess, but I promised Doctor Poe I’d let him tell you the whole story. Detective Dawes told me he’d bring the doctor here this afternoon,
after he’s recovered from the tasering.”

Miss Prim wondered why the detective wou
ld bring Doctor Poe to her home rather than asking her to visit Doctor Poe in prison. But all would be revealed soon enough; and so, for now, Miss Prim had to be content to wait.

After Dolly and Bruno returned
, Miss Prim and Dolly worked side by side in the kitchen, preparing the canapés and other comestibles in companionable silence, enjoying their freedom and each other’s company.

Lorna and Lucian
arrived at one o’clock. Miss Prim almost didn’t recognize Lorna, who wore a bald cap and a white smock.

“I see you looking, Felicity. Thi
nk of it as a cross between Sinéad O’Connor and Demi Moore during her bald period.”

“Felicitations, Miss Complicity,” Lucian said,
kissing Miss Prim’s hand in greeting. “We thought we’d show up a bit early to help with the preparations.”

“Come in, come in,” Miss Prim said. As
Lorraine—for surely that name and identity were her preference—walked past her, Miss Prim whispered jokingly in her ear, “So good of you to use the front door instead of the basement.”

Lorna
smiled. “Dolly, would you mind looking after Lucian for a bit? Lucian, I know Dolly would love to hear about the war.”

“What?”

“THE WAR. TELL HER ABOUT THE WAR.”

“Which one?”

“WHICHEVER ONE YOU WANT.”

“Well, it is the Civil War on which I had the greatest impact,” Lucian said. “Quite fascinating, actually.
Miss Polly, you sit right there and I will tell you about the espionage methods I used to infiltrate the camp of General Ulysses S. Grant.”

“Let’s go to the basement while Lucian and Dolly talk,” Lorraine
said.

Nodding her agreement,
Miss Prim used the wooden star to pop the door open. She then led the way down the stairs as Lorraine followed.

At the bottom of the staircase, Miss Prim saw the door of the secret
passage gaping open. Located against the basement’s rear wall, the one nearest the ridge on which Ridgemont perched, the door began at the ceiling and ended at the floor, thus preventing any seams from showing at the top and bottom of the door. The wood paneling on the basement walls had camouflaged the door’s vertical seams at the left and right.

Miss Prim examined the door.

“Most … revealing,” she said. “But how does someone in Rose Cottage get the door open?”

“That’s the thing, Felicity. You don’t. Lucian had the door designed to be one-way only. You could have looked for a hidden mechanism until the end of time, and you n
ever would have found one. Now that you know where the door is, I hope you’ll put a bolt on your end to prevent unwanted intrusions.”

“
I shall do that, Lorn—I mean, Lorraine, yes?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

The two women shared a moment of silent understanding. Then Lorraine continued.

“We’ve just come from the police station. I’ve told Ezra everything. Now that he knows Alexander’s identity, he’s begun looking for his
adopted family. I’ve arranged to have him buried in the same cemetery in which the Saxe-Coburgs own a plot. I hope I made the right decision. I kept asking myself how Ralph Saxe-Coburg would have felt about it. But he loved Elizabeth, he really did; all the Old Timers know that. I truly think he’d be OK with it, so I made the arrangements. There will be a service tomorrow evening. Will you join me and Lucian? We’ll pick you up about seven.”

“Of course.”

“Lucian had a good morning. I got more information out of him. He picked up the chisel when he thought Alexander was about to spring on him. ‘He bent his knees, like he was getting ready to throw himself at me.’ That’s what Lucian said. But I think you and I know what really happened. Poor Alexander suffered his heart attack, and he started to crumple. Lucian mistook it as aggression and moved to defend himself.”

“But what now, Lorraine? What did Detective Dawes say about all of this?”

“He said Lucian isn’t a murderer and that, given the circumstances, he would let the matter drop, on one condition. I can’t leave Lucian alone, ever again. This means I have to find a full-time nurse for him. Truthfully, one side of me hates the idea, but the other side feels relieved. I’ll start looking for someone this week. I don’t suppose you’d be interested?”

Miss Prim’s eyes widened in panic. “Oh, Lorraine, I am of course flattered and honored
…”

Lorraine laughed heartily, and Miss Prim was delighted to hear these sounds of merriment emanating from her friend. “Relax, Felicity! I was just kidding. I’d never do that to you.”

Miss Prim smiled. “This is for the best, Lorraine. With an aide to watch over Lucian, you and I will have more time to spend together. And I predict that the two of us will engage in quite a number of escapades over the coming years.”

“From your lips to God’s ears,” Lorraine responded,
clicking the hidden door shut.

*

As Miss Prim added the finishing touches to the diet cinnamon, chocolate, and apricot rugelach that she was preparing for Martin Reed, Bruno jumped up and ran to the front door, his tail wagging frantically. Miss Prim dusted her hands on her apron and opened the door to find Kit and Faye standing on her doorstep. The latter carried a box bearing the Sweetcakes Bakery logo.

“I thought you might like these, Miss Prim,” Faye said. “I’ve heard they’re very popular in New York.”

Miss Prim took the box and opened it to reveal several dozen black-and-white cookies. Their waistline-increasing charms must be guarded against, of course, but they could be placed on a serving platter and offered to guests while Miss Prim indulged in one or two as a sort of reward for having survived Doctor Poe’s nefarious plot.

Miss Prim
brought her cup of tea and a black-and-white cookie to the couch. Faye sat on one side of her, Kit on the other, and the assembled Greenfieldians listened raptly as Lucian relived his days of serving as one of King Arthur’s knights. He found Lancelot to be an inspiring leader, he said, but thought Guinevere was overrated. He’d just begun regaling his audience with stories about the unpredictable effects of Merlin’s potions when the front door burst open.

The latest visitor to Rose Cottage wa
s Miss Gladys Lavelle. The smoke pouring from her nose and ears hinted that she was not pleased.

“I knew it!” she hissed venomously, pointing a long, bony index finger at Miss Prim. “It’s not enough for you to get yourself kidnapped
to elicit the town’s sympathy. No, you won’t be happy until you’ve put
everyone
in Greenfield under your spell, you … you … witch! If the adults of Greenfield allow you to enchant them, there’s nothing I can do about it. But I will not—I repeat, I will
not
—stand by while you try to charm unsuspecting children. Faye! Kit! Come with me this instant.”

“Miss Lavelle, please,” Faye said, embarrassed. “I don’t know why you think such bad things about Miss Prim, but you’re wrong about her.”

“Listen to me, Faye,” Miss Lavelle said. “I’ve been on this planet a lot longer than you have, and I know evil when I see it. You and your brother are too young, and too naïve, to understand what’s happening.”

As Miss Prim watched the proceedings in desperation, Lorraine sprang to her feet.

“Gladys Lavelle, I’ve had quite enough of you. Nobody invited you, so why don’t you take yourself back to the hole you crawled out of?”

“Don’t order me around, Lorraine Koslowski. If that’s who you are, underneath that
ridiculous wig and all that makeup.”

“Gladys, this nonsense is going to stop
right now
,” Lorraine shot back. “You’re incredibly threatened by Miss Prim. Anyone with two eyes can see it. Most people in Greenfield think they know why—because you’re an angry, bitter, jealous old cow. But I know the real reason.”

Miss Lavelle stared daggers at Lorraine. “You don’t know anything, Lorraine.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Gladys. I did a little checking around, and you know what I discovered? Something interesting about the house that Faye and Kit live in.
You
bought it twenty years ago, and you and your lawyers concocted a story about their mother and father leaving it to them as an inheritance. Gil Fellowes keeps a copy of all the property records in Greenfield, in case you didn’t know. He left the doors unlocked one night, and I found all the documentation I needed without asking for his help. So the question is: Why would Gladys Lavelle, who wouldn’t throw a life vest to a drowning man, buy a house and give it to two strangers? I’ll tell you why.” Lorraine’s voice lost its volume and became gentler. “Because they’re
not
strangers. Faye and Kit are your children, aren’t they?”

Miss Gladys Lavelle appeared lost for words.

“I’ve heard the rumors, Gladys. So has Lucian. We know you took extended vacations around the times that Faye and Kit were born. You knew Ethan Prothero would never leave his wife, so you went to the country and gave birth to the children, and then you paid a relative to raise them. You waited for Faye to become an adult so that you could bring them here and finally be close to them. And it’s making you insane that your children like Miss Prim more than they like you.”

Miss Lavelle stood silent, the burning fury in her eyes turning to something softer as she gazed upon the shocked faces of Faye and Kit.

Faye spoke quietly. “Is it true, Miss Lavelle?”

Miss Lavelle blinked her eyes once and nodded. Miss Prim thought she’d never seen a woman so valiantly fighting back tears.

“I sensed it, Miss Lavelle,” Faye said, wonderingly. “I just knew it, somehow, somewhere, without really knowing why.” And with that she rose from the couch, walked to her mother, and embraced her. Without a word, Kit joined the embrace as Miss Lavelle stroked her children’s hair.

“I’m a fool,” Miss Lavelle said quietly. “I chose a man over my children, and I’ve done nothing but regret it for the last two decades. I just wanted to be near you for a few years, to have some time with you before you went into the world. It was selfish, I know. As always, Gladys Lavelle thought of herself first, and everyone else second.”

She reluctantly extricated herself from her children’s embrace. “Miss Prim, I don’t blame you for not wanting me here. I’ll go now.” She turned to leave.

“D
on’t go,” Miss Prim said. “Please stay. Can’t you see, your children want to be with you? Everyone in this room wants you to say.
I
want you to stay.”

Miss Lavelle couldn’t take it any more. She dissolved into tears. Of joy.

*

Miss Prim’s other guests began to trickle into Rose Cottage. First Spike Fremlin arrived on the arm of a quite handsome but rather short man. “Hey, Miss Slim. I think you forgot to invite me! No worries, I’m not offended. This is Killer. Killer Abramowitz.” Killer smiled at Miss Prim. “He’s an accountant down at the courthouse,” Sp
ike explained. “Not bad looking, eh? Killer, get me something to eat, would you? Those cookies look good. Hey, Miss Slim, did you ever get all that dust taken care of in your attic? Cause I’m highly allergic and I’d hate to have to leave early …”

Miss Prim got a reprieve when the doorbell rang again. She detached herself from Spike to welcome Martin and Valeska Reed. Valeska cast a skeptical glance at Miss Lavelle (who was sitting on the couch, deep in conversation with Faye and Kit) and raised her eyebrows questioningly at Miss Prim. “Very long story,” Miss Prim whispered. “But, suffice it to say, a happy ending.”

“Do I smell rugelach, Miss Prim?” Valeska asked. Miss Prim nodded. “I don’t suppose you have cinnamon-raisin? You do? That’s Martin’s favorite. Wait here, my love, while I fetch us some.”

Martin Reed looked
at his wife with affection and just a bit of puzzlement.

“You look a bit … dazed … Officer Reed,” Miss Prim observed.

“It’s my wife,” Reed said, in an astonished tone of voice. “When I wasn’t looking, she turned back into the woman I fell in love with. Isn’t she something?”

“She certainly is,” Miss Prim agreed, as Valeska returned. Martin took a piece of dietetic cinnamon-raisin ru
gelach in one hand and his wife’s hand in the other.

Miss Prim had just unveiled a plate of dietetic cinnamon rolls, to the
oohs
and
aahs
of her guests, when the doorbell rang again. Dolly rose to answer it. A moment later, a familiar scent wafted across Miss Prim’s nose. She looked up to find two unexpected guests: her sister Celia on Maude’s arm.