Murder at Blackwater Manor

by Moure, Ana

  She came in quietly, partly because she didn’t want to wake up the sleeping people upstairs and partly because she still felt like a young girl who hadn’t kept her curfew. The pang of misunderstood guilt, however, didn’t dampen the enthusiasm from the past couple of hours. Sage needed to admit to herself that she hadn’t had that much fun in months, maybe years.

  “Hey,” she whispered to her sister, who was hunched over her accounting book at the kitchen island. “Why are you still up?”

  “Sage! Finally,” Prim said, turning to reveal an almost sleeping face, “You don’t think I could possibly sleep before I heard how your date went, do you?”

  Sage wrapped her hands around her sister.

  “I know you’d love to hear it, so here it goes. You were right. He is sweet.”

  “I knew it! Did you two have a good time?”

  “It was perfect,” Sage said dreamily, slumping in another stool. She quickly told Prim how the date went, but left out the details of the kiss. It wasn’t not like they weren’t grown women, but there was something so special about that moment, she wanted to keep it all to herself for now. “Is Ben asleep?” she asked after she was done with her story.

  “Yeah. He’s had a really long day.”

  “Did you talk to him?”

  “Not yet, but he is going to work later than usual tomorrow, so we can talk to him in the morning. I think it’s best if we all get some good sleep.”

  “Prim, there’s something I need to show you,” Sage said in a serious tone and pulled out the small note from the front pocket of her hoodie. She quickly shared the thoughts and questions that had run through her head when she’d found it.

  “But then,” Prim said after reading the note a second time, “how could have Anabelle and Thea killed Philip if they were secretly meeting in the garden?”

  “And above all, why would they kill him? It doesn’t make much sense.”

  “Maybe the note is about something else,” Prim mused, “But if it’s not, it could still not be addressed to Thea. She was in the kitchen anyway and nowhere near the garden.”

  “True. She could have just found it like I did.”

  “There’s another thing,” Prim said, sitting up straighter, “I thought I’d tell you tomorrow, but I might as well do it now.”

  “What is it?”

  “I realized that the only person we don’t have any background information on was Cecile. Sure, we know her side of the story, but we don’t know much else about her and she was there the whole time. I thought Ben could have been wrong about the watch. It could always have been broken at another time or something… I mean, she could have murdered Philip while we were all out on the terrace before eleven.”

  “Only, she has no motive.”

  “That’s what I wanted to find out too—whether she’d have any reason to hate her employer so much that she’d consider murder.”

  “And? Did you find out anything?”

  “I stopped by at the grocery store after I closed up and ran into nurse Sheila there. I didn’t directly ask her, of course, but I knew she was among the few friends Cecile has around here. As you already know, she’s not a local.”

  For a moment Sage wondered what constituted a local and whether she’d ever count as one.

  “So, did she tell you anything useful?”

  “Turns out,” Prim said in a conspiratorial whisper, “she did have a motive to kill. Only, not Philip. Before she moved out here, she used to be pretty well off. She owned her own transportation business and she was quite the ambitious entrepreneur. She had big dreams for her business, but she made a mistake and trusted the wrong man. She was one of the victims of…”

  “…James’ scam,” Sage finished her sister’s sentence.

  “That’s right. He pulled her in and she ended up losing her business and going bankrupt. I’d understand her if she’s still harboring some resentment after she went from a prosperous business woman to a maid.”

  “Yeah, it’s strange that she ended up living in the house of her nemesis’ brother. It still doesn’t tie up though.”

  “I know,” Prim agreed. “Why would she wait seven years for her revenge?”

  “And why wouldn’t she go straight for her enemy, but murder his brother instead?”

  “My head is spinning, Sage,” Prim said and rubbed her temples. “I think we should go to bed now. We can analyze the things we learned today all we want, but I doubt we’ll get anywhere.”

  “You’re right. It’s much better to look at all this with fresh minds. Let’s go to bed and tomorrow we’ll try to put everything together and tell Ben what we know. Hopefully, he’ll have his own theory based on his interviews with the suspects today.”

  “Let’s hope so,” Prim said, and taking her sister by the hand, she led her upstairs for some much needed rest.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Blueberry Pancakes and Evidence

  The sun hadn’t even risen yet when Sage eagerly rubbed her eyes and stumbled into the tiny bathroom next to the guest room she now occupied. She had no idea what time it was, but she simply couldn’t stand to spend another minute in bed, being idle.

  She’d had a rough night, hardly getting any sleep from all the thoughts and questions that had kept springing up in her head. She must have fallen asleep at some point, because as soon as she splashed some cold water on her face, she felt fresh and ready for the day. In fact, she was as eager as a kid on Christmas morning, and she couldn’t tell if it was the excitement of last night’s date and the possibility to see Dan again, or the complicated murder case that still had too many open ends.

  As she came down the stairs, she was not too surprised to hear noises coming from the kitchen. If getting up before dawn was an accomplishment for her, it was an everyday thing for her sister and brother-in-law. A pleasant smell of freshly brewed coffee tickled her nose and she followed it into the brightly lit kitchen.

  Ben was already in his sheriff’s uniform and Prim was fully dressed, fussing between the toaster, the frying pan and her husband. Sage wrapped her robe more tightly around her pajamas. These two had definitely woken up at least an hour before her or else, they had magical powers.

  “Good morning,” she greeted them.

  “Good morning, Sage,” Ben smiled at her and patted the bar stool next to his. “Just in time for breakfast.”

  “I’m glad I didn’t miss you.”

  Ben gave her a quizzical look.

  Prim deposited a mug of coffee and an empty plate before her sister and mouthed “Not yet” at her. Sage looked at Ben’s plate and seeing that it was still empty as well, she quickly figured what her sister meant. Talking to a hungry man was neither fun nor productive, so as impatient as she felt to open the topic, she settled down and prepared to wait.

  Sage decided that if she helped out with setting the table, instead of sitting like a helpless child, it would speed things up, so she got up and started bringing jars of jam and yogurt, spoons, napkins and orange juice. Prim was smiling in approval as she flipped a pancake in the pan. The sisters had started to understand each other with just one look, just like they used to in their childhood.

  Soon the kitchen island was covered with a delicious breakfast. Blueberry pancakes, buttered toast, scrambled eggs and sausages and generous portions of fruit salad were all displayed as if for a professional photograph setting. The three of them dug in the little feast and for a while all the noise in the kitchen came from the clinking of silverware against porcelain and happy chewing.

  “Ben, honey,” Prim started when she’d judged it was the right moment, “How did the investigation go yesterday? Did you get to talk to everyone who was at the house?”

  Ben swallowed and the two sisters held their breath.

  “I did,” he said mildly and they breathed out in relief to see Prim had been right. The breakfast had definitely softened Ben, because he wasn’t usually too eager to discuss work at home. “It took hours to get through
everyone’s story and I’m still not certain they were all telling the truth. There are certainly some things in their testimonies that just don’t add up.”

  “We thought that too,” Sage hurried to say.

  “You did? How come?”

  “We were curious, honey,” Prim interjected with a gentle tone, “So we did ask around, just to see if our own memories matched with what the others think happened that night.”

  Ben had raised his eyebrows now. He was intrigued. He never underestimated the power of small town gossip. It was something that was mostly out of his reach, but he knew it could provide as many outrageous speculations as useful details that people forgot to mention or thought irrelevant at the sheriff’s station.

  “We also stumbled across some strange facts from the past that might shed some light on people’s possible motives,” Sage added.

  “Go on,” Ben said, taking another bite of sausage, and feeling encouraged, Sage went through all that they had learned yesterday. She mentioned Anabelle’s strange behavior when she’d gone out of the house just after eleven, her husband’s past obsession with Mrs. Blackwater and the rivalry between him and the dead man, James Blackwater’s suspicious past and current debts and the maid’s relation to the family. She also gave a detailed account of where people said or were said to have been when the murder occurred. Finally, she pulled out the mysterious note that could have fallen from Mrs. Blackwater’s purse or could be altogether unrelated to the case.

  Ben sat in silence for a couple of minutes, processing what he’d just heard and tying it to the first impressions he’d got from his suspects yesterday.

  “All this is actually really useful,” he said, “I can’t believe you managed to gather so much in one short day. You are one talented sleuth, Sage.”

  Sage immediately blushed. She hadn’t thought of herself as a sleuth (not seriously anyway), but she loved the word, especially when preceded with talented, coming from Ben’s mouth.

  “There are some more details that I learned at the station yesterday,” Ben added after a while. The way he said it, it looked like he was debating whether to share this.

  “Like what?” Sage asked.

  “Well, I guess three heads are better than one,” Ben said as if making an excuse in front of himself, “So, here it goes. I got the results back from the fingerprint tests on the silver vase and there were a couple around its neck, belonging to the maid.”

  “But she could have cleaned it earlier,” Sage said, “It doesn’t necessarily mean she used it as a weapon.”

  “That’s what I thought, too,” Ben sighed, “Also, I’d sent out the ash we found at the foot of the desk to the lab and it turned out it wasn’t cigarette ash at all. It was paper. Either Philip Blackwater had burned something he didn’t want others to see or his killer did.”

  The two sisters were staring at him, their eyes huge with surprise.

  “I also got the results back on the cigarette end we found under the chair,” Ben continued, “and it belonged to James Blackwater. As for the red piece of fabric, no luck there. We couldn’t get anything useful out of it. I need to go through everyone’s closet and look for the piece of clothing it was torn from to figure out whose it was.”

  “This is all fascinating!” Sage exclaimed, but seeing her sister’s reproachful look, she toned down her enthusiasm a bit. “I mean, I think we should be writing all this down and making a timetable with everyone’s whereabouts at eleven o’clock, linking them to all the information we have so far.”

  “Wait,” Ben said, “There’s more. After I performed a thorough search of the crime scene, I discovered that there was a will in one of the drawers that was dated and signed on the day of the murder. In the event of his death, this will left almost everything that Mr. Blackwater owned to his brother James. I also found a pen in Philip’s lap, so I assumed he’d just been using it. When I sent it to the lab and they compared the ink of the signature on the will with that of the pen, they found a perfect match.”

  “Finally, among the ashes there was a piece of burned paper that had somehow remained whole. The writing on it was mostly illegible, but I could discern the words ‘I’m leaving’ so it must have been the previous version of the will, the one that should have left everything to his wife. ”

  The two sisters gasped.

  “So, it must have been him then!” Prim said, “James Blackwater is the murderer.”

  “Or he had an accomplice. A murder that went unnoticed in a house full of guests must have required a lot of scheming and perfect execution.”

  Sage was the only one not saying a thing. She suddenly got up from her seat and left the room. She returned in a moment, holding her notebook and a pencil.

  “What’s going on, Sage?” Prim asked concerned.

  “Something just doesn’t sound right here,” Sage said and started scribbling in her notebook. Ben and Prim looked at each other and Prim shrugged. She knew the best strategy was to just let Sage finish what she’d set out to do.

  “That’s what I thought,” Sage said after a while, “Look here. Isn’t it at all possible that…”

  She started from the very beginning, even before the murder and weaved a story that not only connected all the clues they had gathered so far, but undoubtedly pointed to one person, who’d had both the motive and the means to commit the horrific crime under everyone’s noses.

  Primrose and Ben listened engrossed and only nodded from time to time to indicate that Sage’s story did make perfect sense.

  “I’m going to call everyone down at the station right now. I don’t care how early it is. I don’t want to give this criminal even a second of undeserved freedom,” Ben declared. “You two are coming as well. It will look better if everyone who was present that night was there to testify once again and confirm Sage’s theory.”

  “Maybe we should stop by at the estate first,” Prim suggested.

  “I’ll head straight to the station and wait for everyone and you two can go get Mrs. Blackwater and her maid and use the opportunity to take a look at the same time. Just don’t forget to take pictures if you really find what we think is there.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” Sage said, thrilled, “Just give me a moment to get dressed.”

  “Perfect,” Ben said, “I’ll start making the calls.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Lukewarm Tea and a Murderer

  The sheriff’s station was almost deserted at the early hour. The deputy sheriff was still quietly snoring in the back office, while the night shift receptionist was drinking yet another bland coffee and rubbing her eyes to stay awake until her replacement showed up.

  When Sage and Prim walked in, accompanied by Mrs. Blackwater and Cecile, the receptionist jerked up and straightened her thick-framed glasses.

  “Can I help you?” she said, squinting at them and trying to place their faces. “Oh, Mrs. Greene! The sheriff is here if you are looking for him. He is in the interrogation room, said no one should disturb him.”

  “It’s okay Tammy,” Prim said calmly, “He is expecting us. And please, send everyone who comes in straight to us.”

  “Sure,” Tammy said, “Would anyone like some coffee?”

  Prim didn’t have good memories from the coffee they offered at the station. Sometimes she brought thermos flasks with homemade coffee and a box of white chocolate and blueberry scones to treat her husband’s staff. She regretted not bringing anything today.

  “Tea would be fine, Tammy. Thanks,” Prim said and everyone else followed her example dodging the coffee offer and going for tea instead.

  They went in the interrogation room, which was not the coziest place in Rosecliff, but at least it was warm. This early in the morning, Mrs. Blackwater was even wearing gloves. It was that cold.

  There was a large rectangular table in the middle of the room and half a dozen uncomfortable-looking basic office chairs. There was another smaller table by the wall with an old TV and a DVD set. Besides t
hese objects, nothing else offered a change from the complete sterility of the place.

  Ben was sitting in one of the chairs, flipping through a case file and going back and forth between the pages. When the four women came in, he got up respectfully and invited them to sit. Tammy was soon in with a tray of tea for everyone.

  “I still don’t understand what we are doing here this early,” Thea Blackwater said indignantly as she inspected her tea. “I thought I told you everything yesterday, Ben. If you haven’t forgotten, I have a funeral to plan.”

  “That’s true and I’m sorry for dragging you here again, but I thought you’d want to be around for this. We’ll begin very shortly. We are just waiting for the others to arrive.”

  “Others?” Thea asked. Her maid was sitting next to her, quietly gazing at her feet under the table.

  “I’ve asked everyone who was there the evening your husband was murdered to come down to the station. It’s best if I run the case by everyone.”

  “You mean, you know who did it?” Thea’s eyes grew large. She tried to conceal a sideways glance at Cecile that was full of suspicion, but Sage caught it.

  “We are very close to finding out,” Ben said cryptically as he paced impatiently around the room.

  In a minute, the door opened again and Tammy led in the Bluebirds and James Blackwater, placing another tray of tea cups on the table.

  “Good morning,” Ben greeted the sleepy newcomers who looked weary and confused. “Sorry for dragging you out of bed so early, but this couldn’t wait. If you’d please take a seat. We are ready to start.”

  Eyes traveled all over the room as people were trying to figure out what could Ben possibly have on them. Varying degrees of fear and worry were written all over people’s faces as they nervously sipped their tepid teas.

  “Okay,” Ben said, looking at Sage and Prim, who nodded in reassurance, “I think we can begin now.”