A Gilded Grave by Shelley Freydont

this morning as if he’d been working most of the night. Joe hoped it wasn’t bad news.
    Will, Joe, and Bob Randolph had become fast friends at Yale. When Bob continued in business and Joe went on to study engineering, Will became interested in the science of forensics. He’d joined the Newport police force, where he could use his new interest to advantage. In a few short years, he had been promoted to sergeant.
    Joe opened the door wider and stepped back. “Will. What brings you here?”
    “Nothing good, I’m afraid.” He held up a preemptory hand. “Nothing to do with the Ballard family.”
    “Then who?”
    “Your apprenticen Orrin O’Laren.”
    “You’d better come in. I just brewed coffee. I’ll get you a cup.”
    “Thanks.”
    Will followed him into the “kitchen” Joe had constructed. It had water laid on, and he’d adapted an old Acme range to gas—much faster than waiting for the wood stove to create enough heat to boil water.
    Will took his cup and followed Joe back to the office. Joe sat and Will pulled up a chair facing him.
    “So, what’s this about Orrin? Is he in some kind of trouble?”
    “I hope not.”
    “That sounds ominous. What’s happened?”
    Will leaned back in the chair. “We were called to the Francis Woodruff ball last night.”
    Joe had started to drink, but he put his mug down. “Why?”
What could this possibly have to do with his apprentice?
    “The body of a young woman was found on the rocks below the walk there.”
    Cold fear ran through Joe’s veins. “Who?”
Not Deanna.
    “It was a maid of the house. One Daisy Payne.”
    “Daisy? Good God.” Joe ran his hand down his face. “She’s Orrin’s sweetheart.”
    “I’d like to speak to him.”
    “He hasn’t come in yet. I told him we’d have a late start because I was at the Woodruff ball myself last night.”
    “I didn’t see you there.”
    “I left early.” He started to tell Will that he’d seen Daisy as he was leaving but held back. He wanted to know more about what had happened first. If it was an accident, there was no reason to suggest anything, other than to tell Orrin that his intended was dead. “Did you inform her family?”
    “Yes. I just came from there. Very cut up about it. Of course, who wouldn’t be? They loved their daughter—and depended on her salary. To add insult to injury, I can’t return the body to them until the coroner finishes with her.”
    “The coroner? Is there some doubt about how she died?”
    “Yes,” Will said. “It isn’t a steep drop at Seacrest, just tiers of scattered boulders. It’s unlikely she would have slipped and fallen to her death. Maybe broken an arm or leg, but . . .”
    “You suspect foul play?”
    “Very possibly. The girl was a devout Catholic, and the family swore she’d never kill herself. Suicide is a mortal sin.”
    Joe nodded. He didn’t like where this was going. But there was nothing he could do to stop it.
    Will sipped his coffee, then held it in both hands and stared into the cup as if he could find the answers to his questions there. “Joe, between you and me, it looks like murder. Her neck was broken, but not necessarily by the fall. There were bruises.” He sighed. “I’ll have to wait for the autopsy results, but I think they could have been inflicted before she fell.”
    “There were over a hundred people at the ball—who would kill a girl where anyone might see? While people were probably out on the terrace or strolling through the grounds?”
    “The same thought occurred to me, but you never know what people will do. Bad business, this. I’ll need to talk to Orrin.”
    “You think Orrin killed her? He loved her. Wanted to marry her.”
    “Maybe they jumped the gun. And it scared him off.”
    Here it was. The obvious conclusion, that Orrin had gotten her pregnant. Joe had wondered that himself. It could easily be true. Loose morals weren’t the sole propriety of the upper classes. But he didn’t believe it.