Mrs. Jeffries Rocks the Boat by Emily Brightwell

Rutherford. I don’t believe she much appreciated being told she had to leave because you had something important to do.”
    “Then she ought to have taken the hint,” Luty shot back quickly. “I’d spent ten minutes droppin’ little niceties to git the woman outa my drawin’ room. But she didn’t budge. I don’t like being mean to people, but Nell’s bells, that woman could talk a grizzly into a cave. I didn’t think I’d ever git rid of her.”
    Mrs. Jeffries smiled at the two of them. She knew perfectly well that Hatchet was speaking more out of habit than anything else. She was sure that if Luty hadn’t gotten rid of Countess Rutherford, he would have. He wouldn’t let anyone, titled or not, stand in the way of a murder investigation. Both of them enjoyed snooping far more than entertaining. After Luty had inadvertently gotten involved in one of the household’s first cases, she’d come to them for help to find a missing girl. After that, it would have been difficult to keep either her or Hatchet out of their investigations.
    “I’m sorry you had to get rid of your guest,” the housekeeper said apologetically, “but I thought you’d want to be here. Even though at this point we don’t know all that much.”
    “You thought right,” Luty said. “What have we got? Betsy’s message this mornin’ weren’t real detailed.”
    “Sorry about that,” Betsy smiled. “I know I should have stayed and told you everything, but I was in a hurry to get out and about.”
    “Don’t concern yourself, Miss Betsy,” Hatchet said. “Your message was fine. Unlike Madam, I realized immediately that you’d not learned more than the bare facts of the case.”
    “Speakin’ of which,” Luty said, “maybe you could rest yer tongue a minute so Hepzibah can share those details with us.” She was the only one to ever call the housekeeper by her Christian name.
    Mrs. Jeffries quickly said, “We still don’t know who the victim was.” She told them about the woman being found in the locked garden and about how the victim had been stabbed.
    “A locked garden?” Puzzled, Luty shook her head. “Why go to so much trouble? Nell’s bells, there’s half a dozen places to stab someone in the middle of the night.”
    “I agree,” Mrs. Jeffries replied. “I’ve spent a good part of today thinking the same thing. The circumstances of the murder are very, very strange.”
    “Not if the killer planned on meetin’ the victim in that garden,” Wiggins said. “I’ve seen the place. It’s a right good place for murder. The bushes and such is so high you can do what you like and not be seen from me street.”
    “But she was killed in the middle of the night,” Betsy said. “You don’t need bushes for that. All you need is darkness. I agree with Luty and Mrs. Jeffries. Luring someone into a garden in the dead of night is a strange way to commit murder. Why go to all that bother? Why not just meet them on a deserted public street and wait till their back is turned?”
    “It’s hardly convenient,” Mrs. Jeffries said. “Especially as we know that the killer had to have had a key.”
    “Or the victim had one,” Hatchet said thoughtfully. “And the killer took it with him when he left.”
    Mrs. Jeffries knew that too much speculation at this point might be dangerous. On more than one of their past investigations, they’d done their snooping with a whole set of preconceived notions that had turned out to be just plain wrong. She didn’t want that to happen here. “Well, let’s keep an open mind, shall we? I do hope that one of you has learned something useful today? Otherwise we’ll have to wait until the inspector comes home, and that might not be till quite late.”
    “I think I might know a few things,” Wiggins volunteered eagerly. “’Angin’ about was a right good idea, I overheard ’alf a dozen coppers talkin’.”
    “Excellent, Wiggins.” Mrs. Jeffries beamed proudly at the lad. “Do tell