Free Christmas is Murder by C. S. Challinor Page B

They were like two peas in a pod.” Mrs. Bellows lifted a corner of her apron and blotted her eyes. “You’ll have to forgive me—I get all teary when I think about it.”
    “An illness?” Rex probed.
    “Train wreck.” She peeked through the twill drapes on the dormer window. “The snow’s eased up at last.”
    “Good. I’ll take the dog out for a quick walk before bed. Which reminds me, where is the wee devil?”
    “He must still be downstairs.”
    After poking his head round the bathroom door in the corridor, Rex flipped to a fresh page in his notebook.
    Rosie Porter (attic room): Romance novels, advent calendar, several photos of self.
    He thought this quite narcissistic. Thanking the cook for her assistance, he made his way back down the narrow stairs, calling to the dog at intervals. He stopped by his room and with the aid of his magnifying glass deciphered the inscription inside the brooch before returning it to the honeymoon suite. It was only when he was halfway down the main stairway that the impact of what he had copied suddenly hit him.
    With a tingly feeling that he might be on to something, he opened the guest book on the tripod table in the foyer and scanned the page until he found Lawdry’s entry: Henry D. Lawdry, The Paddocks, Hillcrest, Surrey.
    Rex compared the initials to the engraving from the locket. To my beloved girl—Eternally Yours, H.D.L .
    What was a brooch inscribed with the dead man’s initials doing hidden away in the Perkins’ suite?

Rex wrote R.I.P. after Lawdry’s name in the guest book, and did the same after Ms. Greenbaum’s, hoping he would not have to write these letters again during his stay at Swanmere Manor—and that they would not be written after his name for a long time to come.
    The remainder of the household sat in the drawing room cradling mugs of cocoa, with the exception of Mrs. Smithings, who dryly asked permission to retire to her rooms. Mrs. Bellows and Rosie then excused themselves, saying they had to be up early. A chill pervaded the room, and Rex voiced his surprise at finding the fire unlit. Wanda told him about the discovery of a pile of embers, possibly belonging to the lost manuscript.
    “We didn’t want to disturb anything until you came back,” Anthony said. “There are a few scraps of paper with letters on them.”
    “Well, let’s get to work.” Rex declined the cocoa Helen offered him. “Not right now, hen,” he said, using the Scottish endearment, “but thanks anyway.”
    “Another time when you’re less busy?”
    His gaze met her blue eyes. “Aye, I’d like that.” Then turning to Yvette, he asked, “Do you have a pair of tweezers?”
    Following her out to the hall, he showed her the words he had copied from the locket. Yvette went pale. “H.D.L.—Henry D. Lawdry, if I’m not mistaken …”
    At last she said, “I know how it looks, but I didn’t steal the brooch. When Henry died, Charley told me to hide it so people wouldn’t ask questions.”
    “How did you come by it?”
    “Henry said I reminded him of his daughter and he wanted me to have it. Anthony told me it was worth over five hundred pounds and I should keep it in Mrs. Smithings’ safe.”
    “So Anthony Smart knew about the brooch, and yet you said you didn’t want anyone asking questions.”
    “That was after Henry died. Charley doesn’t know I asked Anthony to appraise it. I was just curious as to its value.”
    “Who else knows Mr. Lawdry made you a gift of the brooch?”
    “You don’t believe me,” Yvette accused. “You think I stole it!”
    “Calm down, lass. I don’t know what to think at present—about any of this.”
    “That’s probably why Charley said to hide it, so people wouldn’t jump to the wrong conclusions!”
    Rex was puzzled that her husband hadn’t mentioned the brooch when he told him about the cyanide. After all, he had asked Charley to tell him everything he knew about Lawdry. He would have to confront him about it. In the