Mrs. Jeffries Takes the Stage Read Online Free Page B

completely wrong on that one,” Smythe muttered.
    “Perhaps it would be best to take a different approach this time,” Hatchet suggested.
    “Fiddlesticks,” Luty cried. “What’s wrong with you people? Just because the inspector got lucky the last time don’t mean our methods are wrong. Seems to me you all are forgettin’ all them other cases we solved.”
    “Thank you, Luty,” Mrs. Jeffries said primly. “I couldn’t have said it better myself.”
    “I still think we ought to do like ’atchet says and try something different,” Wiggins muttered. “It couldn’t ’urt.”
    “No one’s stoppin’ ya, boy,” Luty said tartly. “But I’m goin’ to do what I always do. One piddly loss out of a whole bunch of wins ain’t goin’ to dampen my spirits. Anyway, enough of this chest bleatin’. Let’s get on with it. We’ve got us a killer to catch.” She smiled eagerly at Mrs. Jeffries. “Well, come on, Hepzibah, time’s a wastin’. Where do we start? What do you want us to do?”
    Mrs. Jeffries thought for a moment. “Do you have any connections in the theatre?”
    “I’ve gone to a lot of plays.” Luty frowned. “But I don’t really know any actors or people like that.”
    “I do,” Hatchet said quickly. “I’ve several acquaintances who have some connection to the thespian world. Should I start making inquiries of them?”
    “Who the dickens do you know?” Luty asked, irritated that her blasted butler had the jump on her.
    Mrs. Jeffries hurried to nip any incipient rivalry between these two in the bud before it had a chance to flower. “That’s a wonderful idea, Hatchet. Luty, dear, if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like you to begin making inquiries about Hinchley’s financial situation. You’ve more sources in the financial community than the rest of us.”
    “Humph,” she snorted. “Hatchet gets to talk to actors and interestin’ people and I get to talk to bankers. It ain’t fair, but I’ll do it.” For good measure, she shot her butler a glare. But he only grinned wickedly in response.
    Dismissing Luty’s good-natured grumbling, Mrs. Jeffries turned to Betsy. “You know what to do, don’t you?”
    “I’ll get right to it. If I’m lucky, maybe I’ll be able toget round to Hinchley’s neighborhood before the Inspector does. It’d be nice to get the jump on him.”
    “Take care the police don’t see you,” Mrs. Jeffries warned. Betsy would do as she always did when they were starting an investigation. She’d talk to all the trades-people and shopkeepers and learn as much as she could about the victim’s household.
    “I’ll do the hansoms and the pubs,” Smythe said. “Maybe I’ll get lucky and find out who came and went on Saturday night.”
    “Excellent, Smythe.” Mrs. Jeffries nodded in satisfaction. They were falling back into their old routine very nicely.
    “I’ll get round there and see if I can find a servant,” Wiggins said. “But I’ll be careful, Mrs. Jeffries. Fred and I’ll lie low until we sees that the inspector and the rest of the constables is gone.”
    “I have no doubt you will, Wiggins.” She glanced down at the black and brown mongrel dog lying by the footman’s chair. “If you take Fred with you, make sure he doesn’t see the inspector.” Fred, hearing his name, raised his head and thumped his tail on the floor.
    “The last thing we need is for the inspector to catch us,” Mrs. Jeffries continued. She glanced at the cook. “You know what to do.”
    The cook nodded. She had a veritable army of people she called upon when they were investigating a murder. Without ever leaving her kitchen Mrs. Goodge used her very own, very sophisticated network of street boys, fruit vendors, chimney sweeps, delivery people and former acquaintances to suss out every morsel of gossip about the victim.
    Gossip, Mrs. Jeffries had always found, was immensely useful in a murder investigation.

CHAPTER 2

    Inspector Witherspoon hated mortuaries. He