Suffragette Sabotage Read online

  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Acknowledgements

  More from Bettie Jane

  Copyright 2018

  Bettie Jane

  All Rights Reserved

  This book is dedicated to Daniel.

  You never seem to grow weary of talking me off the ledge.

  I’m honored to have your friendship.

  ~bj

  Prologue

  Mid-morning

  December 20, 1921

  East End, London

  The brunette woman with a curvy build and molasses brown eyes opened the door and welcomed her visitor with a smile and a kiss.

  “Darling, how lovely to see you. Come in, come in. What brings you by at this hour?”

  “Oh, I do wish you would have left well enough alone.”

  The edge in her visitor’s voice annoyed more than worried her. “Whatever do you mean? Leaving things alone, since when has that been my nature? Our nature? We always fight the status quo.”

  Her attempts to be playful were met with acidic flippancy. “Your nature is exactly the problem. You betrayed me and our cause. I’m afraid today is payday, love. Your insolence has caught up with you.”

  “Don’t be an ass. I’ll put on some tea and we’ll talk about a way forward. I realize things didn’t exactly go as planned, but we’re clever. There’s a way out for us and we’ll find it.”

  She turned and made her way to the kitchen of her small, east-side flat.

  “I didn’t come here for tea.”

  She faced her insolent guest.

  ”Don’t be so stubborn. Join me for a cuppa and we’ll decide what’s next. We can rise above this nonsense.”

  “I don’t want any tea. You’re patronizing me and I won’t have it. You refuse to take any of this seriously. It’s how we got into this mess. You care only for yourself. What I’ve risked, the consequences of our choices—they don’t matter to you at all.”

  “Oh, bother. Just relax. Here.” She extended her hand. “Come sit with—”

  The blow to her head caught her off guard, and she went limp at the moment of impact.

  The guest-turned-assailant stood over her, watching with curious fascination as the life faded from her body until there was silence—no breath, no heartbeat.

  “See, now? Silence. It’s not so hard now, is it? I think you’ll not cause me any more trouble.”

  The visitor walked across the room, stepping over the lifeless body, and dialed the phone.

  “Hello? Yes, it’s me. Can you come? I need help.”

  Chapter 1

  Three o’clock in the afternoon

  December 20, 1921

  World News Headquarters

  London

  Julia Barlow, Investigative Reporter.

  She idly shifted her name placard from hand to hand as she sat at her desk on the third floor of the World News offices, replaying the last few weeks in her mind. Solving Lady Withers murder last November had turned out to be the achievement she’d hoped it would be. Since the series of articles she’d published on the matter were so well-received by the higher-ups at the paper and the residents of London at large, she’d managed to make her move up to the more exclusive third floor, a far change from the first floor where the glorified gossip columnists did their work. Jimmie’s career had blossomed right alongside Julia’s, and he was often too busy taking photographs for the better-known reporters that Julia didn’t get as much time with him as she’d like. Overall, though, it was a wonderful improvement for the both of them.

  Now it was the middle of December and she was feeling quite settled in her new life. She still lived with Opal and Oscar Goodall, and there was no reason in the foreseeable future to change that. Their parents traveled often and were rarely home so they essentially had the home to themselves. Julia’s parents had been shaken enough by nearly marrying her off to the double murderer, Sydney Guinness, that they hardly ever mentioned Julia marrying. She knew it was only a matter of time before they began to pester her again, but she’d enjoy the respite while it was available to her.

  They had no idea she’d been spending so much time with Inspector Jacob Gibbs. Her heart skipped a beat when she thought of him. They’d been nearly inseparable since the first night she’d first met him. So far, their relationship had been the model of proper etiquette. He hadn’t even so much as kissed her on the cheek. While she wasn’t exactly in a hurry to move things along with him, a little progress would be quite all right with her. Perhaps soon, if he didn’t, she’d have to make the first move. Maybe he thought she was a prude. She vowed to dissuade him from that notion as soon as reasonably possible.

  Then a troubling thought crossed her mind. Perhaps he was a prude. Or if not a prude, then entirely too “good” for someone like her. She was, of course, a law abiding citizen most of the time—when it mattered—but she was most certainly guilty of the occasional bending of legalities when her and her friends were roaming the West End.

  From the corner of her eye she noticed a figure nearing and was treated with a handsome surprise when she pulled herself from her reverie.

  Speak of the devil.

  The tall, Scotland Yard detective with criminally dark, brooding eyes approached her. He always looked suspicious, ready to catch any bystander in the act of lawlessness. Maybe they weren’t such a great match after all. She vowed to see how far she could press his commitment to lawful behavior as soon as possible. A mischievous grin slipped into place as she returned the placard to its home on the edge of her desk, and she stood to greet him.

  “Inspector Gibbs, how lovely to see you today. This is quite an unexpected visit.”

  “Hello, Miss Barlow. And while it is lovely to see you, I’m here on police business so we’ll have to dispense with the niceties. It’s quite urgent that I speak to Miss Meredith Watson of your Piccadilly Ladies Club. We’ve tried to reach her at her personal residence as well as at the club headquarters to no avail. Might you have some knowledge of her whereabouts?”

  Julia’s interest was piqued. “Quite urgent, is it? What has happened?”

  “I’m afraid I can’t discuss it. Police business.”

  Julia glanced around the room to see that most of the desks were unoccupied and the few reporters who were working were quite engrossed. She leaned in close to the Inspector and used her most seductive voice to whisper in his ear.

  “Jacob. It’s me. Perhaps I can convince you to give me a little hint. It might help me recall Miss Watson’s whereabouts.”

  She traced the lines of his jaw with her index finger and stopped as her fingers grazed his lips.

  Tension exploded between them. Julia backed away from him, letting her hand drop to her side as shivers ran through her. Her efforts to seduce him, even a bit, backfired. She wanted to tip his composure sideways but found herself all too distracted by her proximity to him.

  Her only consolation prize was that he seemed as affected by her presence as she was by his.

  Inspector Gibbs cleared his throat. “Yes, Julia. I can see that it is you. You are a temptress, woman,” he added unexpectedly.

  Her cheeks heated in reaction to his words. She checked her watch to distract herself from his watchful eye. “I shall strive to tempt you more often, Inspector. In the meantime, I think I can
actually assist you in finding Meredith Watson. I’m to meet her for tea in about thirty minutes. Why don’t I return the favor you did for me in getting me into Phillip Withers’ club by granting you entrance into our even more exclusive Ladies Club? If you are on your best behavior, I might even be able to scrounge up a cup of tea for you as well.”

  “I would appreciate that.” He lowered his voice again, but this time the tone was all business. “Her sister was found murdered on the East Side. It might be for the best if you are there to comfort her when the news is delivered.”

  “Murdered? That is simply awful. I am embarrassed to say that I don’t know Meredith that well. I didn’t even know she had a sister. However, I shall do my best to offer support. I’ll get my coat and we’ll make our way.”

  A somber mood settled between the two of them as they drove across town in Gibbs’ auto. Julia was remorseful of her earlier flirtations, knowing that he had such a heavy weight on his mind. How dreadful it must be to deliver the news of a loved one’s death. Once they parked, instead of looping her arm through his as she usually did, she walked next to him with her arms folded across her stomach.

  Her mind raced with thoughts for Meredith and her family. How devastating. And so close to the holidays. Christmas was around the corner. She noticed the decorated street lights and the wreaths on the doors of nearly every storefront they passed between the paper headquarters and the club. The festive atmosphere mocked them and the bad news.

  “I feel like the harbinger of death, Jacob. How do you handle being the bearer of such terrible news?”

  He put an arm around her, and they walked closer together. “It can be difficult, certainly, but I take solace in knowing that I’ll go to practically any length necessary to solve a murder. Offering a family resolution is sometimes the best gift I can give. It doesn’t bring their loved one back, obviously, but for me the best I can do is to give them some peace that the murder has been solved and their dearly departed has been avenged. It’s a small measure for me, but it makes the task more bearable.” He paused. “Are you sure you are up for this? It’s only been a short amount of time since the Guinness affair. I wouldn’t think less of you if you wanted to spare yourself the grisly details of yet another murder.”

  Julia thought of Meredith and everything she knew about her so far. It wasn’t much. Short of a couple of teas with other women in the club and the induction ceremony, she hadn’t spent much time with the president of the PLC. She seemed quite lovely and, like most family, would likely be devastated at the news of her sister’s passing.

  “I will be fine, Jacob. Thank for considering me, but I shouldn’t think I’d be a very good member of this ladies club if I couldn’t offer my support in such tragic circumstances. It will be horrific for her, but I didn’t know her sister so hopefully I will be able to provide some comfort or offer to take on some of her duties at the very least. Is there anything you can tell me about the murder? Off the record, of course. You’re talking to Meredith’s friend right now, not a reporter from the World News.”

  “I appreciate you noting the distinction. I do worry about the nature of our two professions being an obstacle for whatever friendship we seem to be developing.”

  “Rest assured, Inspector Gibbs, I always protect my sources.” She squeezed his upper arm—a gesture she hoped would be received as one of reassurance and comfort.

  “Of course. I trust you, Miss Barlow.”

  Their use of surnames as they approached the club acted as a natural indication that they were solidly in the professional realm. At least for now.

  “Millie Howard was a fairly radicalized member of the women’s suffrage movement and has a track record of negative interaction with the police. She was estranged from her husband presumably as a result of her political views. We don’t have any suspects at this time.”

  “But you’re certain it was murder?”

  He nodded as they climbed the stairs. “Yes. I’ll spare you the details, but suffice it to say that the way in which she died, it couldn’t have been an accident or a suicide. She was likely killed by someone who hated her passionately.”

  They were out of time for Julia to dig more, but she made a mental note to inquire exactly as to the details of the homicide. The devil, as well as the clues, were hidden in those details, after all. She refused to be spoken to like she was a child. Her constitution was certainly strong enough to deal with details of a crime scene. Her entire professional trajectory depended upon her ability to be hard enough.

  “We’ll talk more later,” she warned him before she turned her attention to the long-haired blonde at the secretary desk in the foyer. “Good afternoon, Mary. Inspector Gibbs is my guest. We have an appointment with Miss Watson.”

  “Of course, Miss Barlow. Would you please sign him in the logbook?” She pushed a leather-bound book across the desk and opened it. “There, on line twenty-five, please.”

  To Inspector Gibbs, she said, “Welcome, Inspector. Please remain with your host for the duration of your visit. Men are not permitted to move freely about the club without an escort.”

  Julia scratched the Inspector’s name in the visitor log, noticing there had been three other visitors to the club already today, including the deceased Millie Howard, earlier this morning.

  “Mary, I see that a Millie Howard visited the club this morning, around 9:30 according to this log. Do you happen to know that nature of her visit?”

  Jacob reacted to this information by lifting an eyebrow.

  Mary answered quickly, matter-of-factly. “She was here to visit Miss Watson.”

  “She’s not a member of the club, I take it, since she signed in as a visitor?”

  “Oh, no, Miss Barlow. Miss Watson and Miss Howard are not close. They rather despise each other, I think.”

  “Is that so? How interesting. Do you have any idea why?”

  “Oh, no. I am sure I don’t. Miss Watson is very private. She would not reveal that.”

  “Certainly that is understandable. Do you happen to remember what time Millie Howard left the club?”

  Mary looked blankly at Julia. “I think she must still be here. I don’t recall seeing her leave. Do you know her?” With Julia’s shake of her head, Mary continued spiritedly. “She’s quite famous for her activism before the war. She got into several altercations with the police. Do you remember hearing about the time the WSPU arranged to storm Parliament? She was one of the women who claimed to be sexually assaulted by the police.”

  She gave the inspector a pointed stare then continued with her story. “I should have loved to have been involved in those protests. Those women made such a difference. They are the reason women over thirty have the vote. I think we should be more active these days like they were then. We are a long way from realizing equality.”

  With that bit of information, Julia and Jacob shared a knowing glance. She’d been found dead, and not here, so she must have left but hadn’t signed out of the visitor log.

  “I am familiar with the WSPU and their protests,” Julia said. “I’m sure the progress we’ve made in the women’s suffrage is much better attained through peaceful methods. However, we can’t argue with the progress we’ve achieved so far. Thank you, Mary. Have a lovely afternoon.”

  She wasn’t sure she believed the bit about peaceful protest being the most effective, but for now they needed to get on with notifying Miss Watson. Her thoughts drifted briefly to wonder what Jacob’s views were on women’s suffrage, but she forced them away. She’d never adjust her views based on that of a man’s. Would she?

  Inspector Gibbs followed her into the grand dining room where many of the women took high tea. Meredith Watson was sitting at a table, apparently waiting for Julia as they had planned.

  She smiled and waved at Julia from across the room, but her eyes darkened when she saw Jacob’s Inspector uniform. Still, she extended her hand politely as the pair approached her table.

  “Julia, how lovely to s
ee you. You brought a guest to our tea? I’d hoped we could catch up on some PLC business, only the two of us, but of course your gentleman is welcome here.”

  Julie shook Meredith’s offered hand, as did Inspector Gibbs. Before Julia could reply, Jacob got right to it.

  “Miss Watson, my name is Inspector Jacob Gibbs. Is there somewhere we could speak privately? I’m afraid I’m here on official police business.”

  “Certainly,” she said, her demeanor stiffening. “Why don’t you both accompany me to my office. I’ll give you a tour along the way, Inspector.” She made small talk as they traversed the halls of the club, pointing out meeting rooms, card rooms, the main dance hall, the garden area and the atrium. “You see, our club aims to offer women the same sanctuary the men’s clubs offer their members. Now then,” she said, as they entered her office, “please have a seat and tell me how I can be of assistance to the police.”

  She sat behind her desk, and he took the chair opposite her while Julia found a seat for herself on the sofa to the left of the desk area. She didn’t want to intrude on this moment but wanted to be close enough to offer comfort. Meredith wasn’t, in Julia’s limited experience with her, a very emotional woman, but the news she was about to hear would shock anyone, even the most stoic.

  “Miss Watson, I’m afraid that I have some very difficult news. Your sister, Millie Howard, was found this morning near Parliament. That is to say, she is deceased.”

  At the announcement, Meredith’s body stiffened, her facial expression tensed, and she immediately stood up from her seated position behind her desk.

  “Deceased? I think that is quite impossible. She was here this morning.”

  “What was she doing here and what time did she leave, Miss Watson?”

  “She was here to see me…wanted to talk about—where did you find her, Inspector?”

  “She was left on the steps of Parliament.”

  “What? Why? Though I suppose you are asking many of those same questions.” After a moment of silence, she continued. “I always knew her husband, that good-for-nothing, low-life Eddie Howard, would get her killed. I just knew it.”