Murder in a Teacup

by Vicki Delany

  “You’re not bothering me.” The background noise faded as she sought privacy. “What’s up?”

  I told her about the intruder in Linda’s yard and the presence of foxglove.

  “What’s this woman’s last name and her address?”

  “Oh. I . . . uh . . . didn’t get that. Bayshore Road, I think she said. Sorry.” Here I was, so proud of my detecting prowess, and I’d forgotten to ask for the most important details.

  “Not a problem. You say this happened Sunday night. If she called 911 and a car was sent, there’ll be a record. It might not mean anything, but . . .”

  “But it might,” I said.

  “Thanks for this. Good work.”

  I hung up, feeling extremely pleased with myself. I had been of help to the police.

  Yay, me!

  Chapter 12

  My tip didn’t finger the killer, but it did have one result: The police showed up the next morning to confiscate everyone’s electronic devices.

  I heard the yelling from the kitchen.

  “What’s happening out there?” I asked Edna as she came in with a stack of dirty plates and more breakfast orders.

  “Detective Williams has arrived with two uniforms. They’re demanding everyone in the French and McHenry parties hand over their cell phones and tablets.”

  I turned off the burners on the stove, wiped my hands on my apron, and hurried into the dining room. Brian McHenry was on his feet, legs apart, hands on hips, red-faced, glaring at Detective Williams. The uniformed cops stood behind Williams, glancing around the room and waiting for someone to tell them what to do.

  The dining room was full. Sandra and Heather had taken a table for two, as had Amanda and Tyler. The rest of the McHenrys occupied the big table in the center of the room. Trisha sat on her own, an outcast at a small table close to the door. She had an iPad propped up in front of her and scrolled through the screen with one hand as she scooped eggs into her mouth with the other.

  The guests who were not part of Heather’s group openly stared.

  “I’m not explaining myself to you,” Williams was saying as I came in. He caught sight of me hurrying across the room. “Oh, there you are, Ms. Roberts. We’re acting on your tip.”

  Brian threw me a poisonous look. “Is this your doing?”

  “Uh. No. What’s going on?”

  “I need the friends and family of Ed French to give me their cell phones and other electronic devices,” Williams said. “Now.”

  “Can we not talk about this here?” I said. “Our guests are enjoying their breakfasts. Maybe we can gather in the drawing room?” So far, Rose had not appeared this morning.

  “I’m not giving up my phone!” Amanda wailed. “I might as well die.”

  “That can be arranged,” her brother said.

  “Will you be quiet!” Julie-Ann snapped.

  “Nothing to talk about,” Williams said. “I want those phones. All of you, follow me.” He walked out of the room, gesturing to the officers to ensure the others followed. I ran after him.

  “Where’s Detective Redmond?”

  “Busy.”

  “Busy at what? If this is because of what I told her last night, she should be here.”

  He turned to face me. “I decide the appropriate allocation of resources in my department, Lily. Not you.”

  “I didn’t mean—”

  My protest was drowned out by the babble of voices spilling out of the dining room into the hall.

  “. . . outrageous . . .”

  “. . . my lawyer . . .”

  “. . . treating us like suspects . . .”

  “. . . I’m sure they have a reason . . .”

  “I’m on call with my employees back at home,” Lewis said. “I can’t be without my phone.”

  “Do you have a landline in this house, Ms. Roberts?” Williams asked me.

  “Yes. Yes, we do.”

  “Then I’m sure you’ll allow anyone who needs to place a call to use it. Everyone, give your phones and tablets to this officer. He’ll bag them and write your name on the bag. We’ll return them when we’re done with them.”

  “You still haven’t shown me your warrant,” Brian said.

  Williams pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and slapped it into Brian’s hand. “As you can see, the warrant is to be executed immediately. To prevent the possible destruction of evidence.”

  “I’m more than happy to be of whatever assistance I can.” Sandra stepped forward. She placed her phone on the reception desk. It was a flip phone. Probably ten years old. The young cop eyed it as though he’d never seen such a thing before, but he put it in an evidence bag and asked Sandra for her name. “There,” she said. “That wasn’t so difficult, was it? The rest of you, hurry up now.”

  “I resent being treated like a suspect in this nasty business,” Julie-Ann said. “I need to go home tomorrow. I have an important meeting of the hospital volunteer committee Saturday morning.”

  “Then someone else will have to organize the bake sale, won’t they?” Sandra said. “Get on with it, Julie-Ann. I don’t have all day.”

  Julie-Ann lifted her chin, ignored her grandmother-in-law, and pointedly looked around the hallway. “Where’s Trisha? If you should be taking anyone’s phone, Detective, it should be hers.”

  “I’m here,” Trisha came out of the dining room, her iPad in her hand. “I’ve got nothing to hide. As for being treated like a suspect, Julie-Ann, maybe they’re treating you like a suspect because you are one.” She studied the faces of the group, one at a time. “All of you are. One of you killed my husband.”

  “Not me,” Tyler said. “I wasn’t even there when you had your fancy tea. Hey, Detective! That means you don’t need my phone, right?”

  “Hand it over,” Williams said.

  Tyler grumbled, but he did so.

  A couple came down the stairs. They hesitated on the bottom step and glanced nervously at the uniformed officers.

  “The breakfast room’s open.” I gave them a welcoming smile. “Please go on in.”

  They slipped through the crowd. I shut the door behind them, cutting out the excited voices as the other diners speculated as to what might be going on.

  “Don’t try to deflect blame by throwing it on me, Trisha,” Julie-Ann said. “Are you aware, Detective, that Ed was about to divorce Trisha?”

  “Julie-Ann!” Lewis said. “Stop that. Wild rumors and common gossip aren’t helping.”

  “I am not gossiping,” she replied. “I am doing my civic duty. The police need to know these things.”

  “I have no idea what makes you think Ed and I were having problems. Other than wishful thinking, that is.” Trisha pulled her phone out of the pocket of her jeans and put it and the iPad on the desk.

  Julie-Ann opened her mouth to respond, but Lewis grabbed her arm. “No more,” he said in a low, warning voice. She yanked her arm out of his grip and threw him a glare, but she pressed her lips tightly together and said no more.

  “I agree with Brian,” Darlene said. “This is an insult, pure and simple. It’s sad that poor Ed died, but it has nothing whatsoever to do with us.” She threw her phone onto the table. “When will I get this back?”

  “When I’m ready to give it back,” Williams said. “And not before.”

  “Is there an Internet café anywhere?” Amanda said. “I have to text Madison right away and tell her what’s going on.”

  “You can’t text from a computer, dummy,” Tyler said.

  “I’m sure we can find one,” Julie-Ann said. “I have to contact the hospital volunteer committee to let them know I’ve been delayed.”

  “At least no one from home’s likely to see me,” Amanda said, “in an Internet café. Like some loser who doesn’t even have her own phone.”

  Heather had kept quiet, standing at the back of the crowd, watching the others bicker and complain. She was the next to step up to the reception desk. “I expect to have this back by this eveni
ng, tomorrow morning at the latest, and in the condition in which I’m giving it to you. Or my lawyers will have something to say about it.”

  “I’m sure we can do that, Mrs. French,” Williams said.

  “How come my daughter’s getting hers back, but the rest of us have to wait?” Brian said. “Wouldn’t have anything to do with a donation to the Police Benevolent Association, would it?”

  “Go ahead and accuse the police of accepting bribes, Brian,” Sandra said. “That will make them inclined to view you favorably.”

  “I don’t want them to view me favorably,” he replied. “Just fairly.”

  “What did you say?” Sandra snapped. “I missed it.”

  “Nothing, Mother,” Brian said.

  “Now,” Williams ordered, “your iPads, tablets, and other devices, please.”

  “I left it upstairs,” Brian said.

  “Officer LeBlanc will accompany you to get it.”

  Brian grumbled, but he led the way to his room.

  “Anyone have a device you’re not telling me about?” Williams asked.

  Heads shook and people muttered, “No.”

  “If I find you’ve been holding back, it will not go well for you.”

  “We all want to cooperate, Detective,” Heather said. “No need to make threats.”

  “Not a threat, ma’am, simply an observation.”

  “Sounded like a threat to me,” Tyler whispered to his sister.

  It sounded like a threat to me, too, but I didn’t say so.

  “If we’re done here,” Julie-Ann said, “Amanda and I are going into town. We’ll need the car. Who has the keys?”

  They wandered away, leaving Sandra and me with the police.

  “Where’s Rose?” Sandra asked.

  “Probably hiding,” I said.

  “In that case,” Sandra said, “I’ll leave her in peace.” She climbed the stairs, slowly, carefully, clinging to the banister.

  Edna’s head popped out of the dining room. “Lily, I’ve got a ton of breakfast orders. I’m offering muffins and coffee cake, but there’s not a lot of those left and people are starting to mutter.”

  “Be right there,” I said. “Can I help you with anything else, Detective Williams? If not, I’m very busy . . .”

  “We’ll be taking that computer.” He pointed to the one on the reception desk.

  “What! Why?”

  “Computers with public access are mentioned in my warrant. Do you have any others for the use of your guests?”

  “No. You can’t take that. We use it to run our business.”

  “Sorry. Bag it,” he said to the remaining officer.

  The front door flew open and Bernie fell in. “What’s going on? Are you making an arrest?”

  Williams ignored her.

  She looked at me and opened her eyes wide in a question. I shrugged in return.

  “What’s the password on this computer?” the cop said. “So I can shut it down properly.”

  “Thornecroft.” I spelled it out. “With a capital T.” He punched the word in, powered off the computer, and then began pulling out plugs to disconnect the keyboard, mouse, and monitor.

  “That’s a terrible password,” Bernie said. “Anyone who knows Rose will be able to guess that. You want one with a mixture of numbers and upper-case letters and even some symbols.”

  “Such as two capital N’s and a capital B for Not Now, Bernie?”

  “Just trying to be helpful with security around here.”

  “She’s right,” the cop said, hoisting our computer into his arms. “You can’t be too careful these days.”

  Officer LeBlanc came back with Brian’s iPad in an evidence bag.

  “We’re outa here,” Williams said.

  My phone was a lump deep in the pocket of my capris. I decided not to point out to the detective that he hadn’t asked for it. “I’d appreciate it if you could get that back to us as soon as possible.”

  “You’ll get it when I’m ready to give it back,” he said, “and—”

  “And not before, thank you.”

  They left, carrying a computer and a pile of phones and tablets.

  “What’s going on?” Bernie said. “What was all that about?”

  “What are you doing here? I have to get back to work. You can tell me in the kitchen.” I headed down the hallway, Bernie trotting along behind.

  “Rose called. She said the police had arrived, and she needed me to find out what was going on. What was going on?”

  “Why didn’t she ask me? Or better still, come out and handle it herself.”

  “Keeping a low profile, maybe.”

  “Like that’s ever happened. Call her now and tell her they’ve left.”

  Six sausages sat in congealing fat on the cold stove. I switched the burner on and tried to remember what Edna’s last order of eggs had been. Two over easy and one poached. Or was it one over easy and two poached? I stirred the pan of mushrooms and tomatoes and put them on low heat to warm up.

  Edna came into the kitchen. “We didn’t lose anyone. I suspect they were hoping to hear gunshots and screams coming from the hallway.”

  “I’ve forgotten the last order.”

  “Table of three. One scrambled eggs, one sunny-side up, and one over easy.”

  “Good thing I didn’t try to remember.” I cracked eggs into a bowl to scramble with a splash of cream, salt and pepper, a handful of cheddar cheese, green onions, and fresh-from-our-garden herbs.

  “What did Williams want?” Edna asked.

  Bernie poured herself a cup of coffee. “That’s my question. What did the police want?”

  “I found out something interesting. I didn’t get a chance to tell you yesterday.” I poured the eggs into a pan of sizzling butter.

  When we got back to Victoria-on-Sea after our walk on the pier last night, Bernie hadn’t come into the house. She dropped Trisha at the B & B and then took Matt home. I’d considered calling her, but thought she might not appreciate a ringing phone if she and Matt were . . . uh . . . getting to know each other better.

  “How’d it go last night, anyway? After you left here, I mean. With Matt?”

  “You were out with Matt?” Edna waggled her eyebrows. “Do tell.”

  “Nothing to tell,” Bernie said. “I dropped him at his house, but I didn’t get out of the car. We didn’t so much as shake hands good night. Don’t change the subject. What did you not have a chance to tell me?”

  I dished up the scrambled eggs and put the sausages and accompaniments on the plates while the other eggs sizzled in the frying pan. When they were ready, Edna balanced the three plates on her arms. “You can fill me in when I get back,” she said as she carried them out.

  I topped up my coffee cup and dropped into a chair at the table. “Last night at the pier, Rose ran into someone she knows. This woman apparently has a small but nice garden, good enough to be on the garden tour. She lives near here and had an intruder on Sunday night. She called the police, but when they arrived, the intruder was gone.”

  “So?”

  “She grows foxglove.”

  Bernie grinned. “Foxglove. And she lives near here?”

  “Yup. I called Redmond and told her. She obviously told Williams. I’m not sure why he wanted everyone’s phone, though. Never mind our reception computer.”

  “That’s obvious,” Bernie said. “Remember what Redmond said about malice aforethought? Our killer had to get the foxglove somewhere, assuming they didn’t bring it from home. You said this woman’s house is on the garden tour?” She pulled her own phone out and began typing.

  “What are you looking for?”

  “Information about gardens in North Augusta. I see yours is listed as number one on Tripadvisor. That’s nice. Good shot of the tearoom in the background, too. And a link to it. Did you know Tea by the Sea is the number two tearoom in North Augusta? That’s odd, as you’re the only tearoom in North Augusta.”

  “I’ll worry ab
out my ranking later. You mean the killer might have searched online to find out who in the area grows foxglove? Surely, people don’t list every plant they have in their gardens?”

  “No, but there are pictures.” She held the small screen close to her face and squinted. She turned it sideways and expanded the image with her fingers. “Kinda hard to tell on the phone.”

  “What’s that got to do with our computer? I hope Williams isn’t thinking Rose was the one searching for foxglove.”

  “It’s in a public place. With an easily guessable password.”

  “Not that easily guessable,” I said.

  “Sandra would know how important Thornecroft is to Rose.”

  “You don’t think Sandra—”

  “I don’t think anything about anyone, Lily. I’m speculating. It’s what we detectives do.”

  “Spare me,” I said.

  “That’s the last of them coming in now.” Edna brought a stack of dirty dishes into the kitchen. “They’re going to help themselves to muffins and coffee in take-out cups and be on their way.”

  “Did anyone in the McHenry group come back?” I asked.

  “The teenage boy’s now plowing his way through the muffins and most of a fresh box of cereal. That’s after having the full English earlier.”

  “Oh, to have the appetite of a teenage boy,” Bernie said dreamily. “And the metabolism to go with it.”

  I stuck a fork in the single lonely sausage now congealing in the frying pan and held it up. “Want this?” I asked Bernie.

  “No thanks. I was finishing up my own breakfast when Rose called.”

  “Speaking of Rose . . .” I put the sausage on the cutting board and sliced it into pieces. Guessing my intentions, Éclair hurried out from under the table, sat politely at my feet, and smiled up at me as her whole body quivered in anticipation. I placed two slices of sausage on the floor and told her to have at it. She dove in. I’d mix the rest of the meat with her dinner tonight. “Someone needs to fill Rose in on everything that happened. Seeing how we’re late getting breakfast finished, since I was helping the police in the absence of the homeowner, you can do it, Bernie. I have to take Éclair home and go to the tearoom.”