How to Murder a Millionaire (Movie Club Mysteries, Book 3): An Irish Cozy Mystery

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How to Murder a Millionaire (Movie Club Mysteries, Book 3): An Irish Cozy Mystery Page 11

by Zara Keane


  The full moon cast an eerie blue-gray light down the hallway. I headed for the main staircase, switching on my flashlight to make sure I didn’t fall and break my neck. We’d had enough drama over the last few days without me causing additional chaos.

  I descended with caution, my senses dulled from lack of sleep. When I reached the bottom step without incident, I exhaled in relief. I cast the flashlight around the entrance hall. Nothing appeared to be out of place, and I judged this room not to be the source of the noise.

  The commotion I’d heard had sounded like a splash. Could someone or something have fallen into the fountain? Wait…hadn’t Noreen mentioned the house having a pool? We hadn’t had a chance to tour the house earlier. Well, now was as good a time as ever. I steeled myself and took a step forward.

  On the other side of the hall, the suits of armor loomed menacingly in the darkness. When the visor of one appeared to move, my heart leaped in my chest. I gave myself a mental shaking. I was letting the tension in the house get under my skin. Ghosts didn’t exist.

  I tiptoed toward the side of the house where I thought the splash had occurred. In the next instant, one of the suits of armor fell to the ground with a monumental crash. I leaped back and let out a screech. Blood roared in my ears. With shaking hands, I shone the flashlight over the debris.

  Bits of old steel lay strewn across the floor. Inside the visored helmet, a moan escaped. I shone the light on it. The visor shot up, and a pair of familiar pale blue eyes peered out. “Maggie?”

  “Lenny? What the heck are you doing here?”

  My friend pulled off the helmet and grinned up at me. “Carl was short-staffed and asked me to help out in the kitchen. I was hoping I’d run into you earlier, but my brother’s a slave-driver. What’s all this about you and the sarge getting it on?”

  “Sergeant Reynolds and I are not ‘getting it on,’” I said primly. “And please don’t call him sarge around here. He’s my fake date for the weekend—I’m helping him with a case.”

  Lenny roared with laughter. “So that’s what they’re calling it these days. Can you give me a hand up? I’m having issues standing.”

  I hauled him to his feet. He swayed under the unfamiliar weight of the armor but managed to stay upright.

  “What are you doing in that armor?” I demanded.

  “I thought I’d clank into the kitchen and scare Carl.” Lenny raised one metal arm. “Problem is, I can’t move in this thing. I have no idea how people went into battle wearing this clobber.”

  “Maggie?”

  I whipped around at the sound of Reynolds’s voice. He appeared at the foot of the stairs, fully dressed and wide-awake. I tugged at the short hem of the oversized T-shirt that served as my nightgown, but Reynolds’s attention was fixed on Lenny.

  “What on earth?” He raised a hand. “No, don’t tell me. If it involves breaking and entering, I’d have to arrest you, and I don’t have time to make two arrests in one night.”

  I bounced from foot to foot. “You have concrete evidence?”

  Reynolds slid a glance at my friend and shot me a warning look.

  I rolled my eyes. “Oh, come on. If you’re about to make an arrest, Lenny’ll know. Besides, you’ll need backup.”

  His lips twitched. “An eejit in medieval armor wasn’t quite what I had in mind.”

  “Who are you calling an eejit?” Lenny raised an arm, and part of the armor fell to the ground with a crash.

  I winced. “Okay, so Lenny’s not exactly going to help make your approach subtle, but I’m willing to help.”

  “Hey, you’re not leaving me out of the action.” My friend took a cautious step forward and sent a metal hand flying.

  Reynolds squeezed his eyes shut. “This is going to be a disaster. I need the pair of you to be quiet. I’ve called the mainland for help, and Günter’s agreed to back me up in the meantime.”

  “Did the call just come in?” I asked, lowering my voice to a whisper.

  “An email confirming what we discussed earlier.”

  Lenny looked from me to Reynolds. “Come on, man. Don’t leave me hanging. Who are you arresting?”

  Reynolds was saved from answering when Günter appeared at the foot of the stairs, closely followed by Julie.

  My cousin shivered and pulled her nightgown close. “I heard you leave, Maggie. And when I got up to follow you, I found Günter sneaking about.”

  Günter grinned. “I wasn’t sneaking about. I told you, Reynolds asked me to help him with something.”

  “Well, I want to know what that something is,” she said, stifling a yawn. “I always miss out on the fun.”

  Günter’s gaze moved to the suit of armor. “Hey, Lenny. Nice outfit.”

  “Dude,” Lenny exclaimed, “you lost your fuzz.”

  Lenny fell into step with Julie and Günter, and I sidled over to Reynolds. “What’s happened?” I whispered.

  He lowered his voice to match mine. “My contacts in the U.S. came through with an excellent motive for Huff to want Jimmy Wright dead, and forensics found a fingerprint on the rake. It’s Huff’s. I’m hoping the amount of alcohol he consumed tonight will make him come quietly.” Reynolds looked around him. “Do you have any idea which room is his? Martha mentioned he was sleeping on the ground floor when she showed me to my room earlier.”

  “I believe the family rooms are that way.” I pointed to the corridor that led to the rooms in the west wing. “But I don’t know which one he and Brandi are in.”

  “Let’s go and find out.”

  Reynolds strode across the hall, and I jogged to keep pace. Julie and Günter followed close behind, and Lenny brought up the rear, clanking over the stone flooring.

  “What brought you downstairs, Maggie?” Reynolds asked. “Couldn’t sleep?”

  I shook my head. “I heard a noise below my window. Like a splash?”

  Reynolds jerked to a halt. “Our room overlooks the swimming pool, and your room is next door.”

  “Did you or Günter hear anything?”

  He shook his head. “It must have happened after we went downstairs, and before Günter went back up to get his Swiss Army knife.”

  “I was on my way to investigate when Lenny fell at my feet, and you arrived. Want to check out the pool before we tackle Huff?”

  “Yeah.” Reynolds spoke over his shoulder to the others. “Anyone know how to get to the swimming pool?”

  “I saw it on a school tour.” Julie pivoted and changed direction. “We need to cut back through the main hall.”

  Lenny groaned. “Ah, no. Turning this armor isn’t easy.”

  “You should have thought of that before you put it on,” I regarded the pieces of metal still strapped to my friend’s body. “I have no idea how you managed to get into it.”

  Günter and Reynolds helped Lenny to turn and propelled him into forward motion. We retraced our steps and crossed the hall. Julie stopped in front of a tapestry and pulled it to the side to reveal a wooden door.

  Reynolds tried the handle and looked at me sharply. “It’s unlocked.”

  “The side gate was unlocked, too, remember?” Despite my words, a shiver snaked down my spine, and it wasn’t from the chill of the hall.

  “Maybe someone wanted to go for a midnight swim,” Julie said. “For all we know, we could be interrupting a romantic interlude.”

  I frowned. “I guess, but something doesn’t feel right.”

  Outside, dark branches swayed in the breeze, and a poolside umbrella that had been left open flapped in a rhythmic beat. In the cool night, I was acutely aware of my thin cotton T-shirt. I wrapped my arms around my body in a futile effort to ward off the chill.

  All thoughts of the cold froze the instant I looked in the swimming pool.

  My cousin was the first to react. Julie’s high-pitched scream jolted me to my senses, and it appeared to have a similar effect on Reynolds. He and I raced to the side of the pool, and Lenny clanked after us.

  Huff Huf
fington lay face down in the center of the swimming pool. Floating beside him was a plugged-in hedge trimmer.

  “Whoa,” Lenny said in awe. “Dude’s as fried as his chicken balls.”

  I tasted bile and swallowed hard. “Sorry, Liam. Looks like you solved one murder case only to open another.”

  14

  IT WAS eleven o’clock in the morning by the time Reynolds and the forensics team had finished examining the crime scene. I buzzed with impatience to know all the details. Being kept out of the loop sucked. Yeah, it wasn’t my case. I had no right to expect special treatment from Reynolds, but, man, it was frustrating.

  I scanned the faces of the subdued gathering in the morning room. Whoever killed Huff was in this room. Yes, there was hired staff from the hotel to question, as well as Huff and Helen’s employees who’d accompanied them to Gull Island. Despite Huff’s obnoxious behavior toward Felicity yesterday, the people with the most compelling motives to murder Huff were Huff’s own family.

  The door to the morning room swung open. Reynolds marched in with a purposeful spring to his step. One of Whisper Island’s two reserve policemen trailed behind his boss. Reynolds regarded the gathered company coolly. “Thank you for your patience. Reserve Garda Timms and I would like to ask each of you a few questions.” He focused on Helen. “Which room should we use for that, Mrs. Huffington?”

  She regarded him with a frosty expression. “So you’re a policeman, huh? You didn’t let that slip last night.”

  “Didn’t I mention it?” His expression remained bland. “I live at Shamrock Cottages. One of your young relatives must have seen me in my uniform.”

  I swallowed a laugh. Reynolds had been careful to ensure that that didn’t happen.

  “No, they did not.” Helen turned accusing eyes on me. “And you didn’t mention it, either.”

  “You didn’t ask me what Liam did for a living,” I pointed out. “It’s fortunate that he’s here to handle the case. He’ll make sure Huff’s killer is caught.”

  “Killer? Couldn’t my son’s death have been a terrible accident?” Helen pulled her shawl tight around her shoulders. “Maybe he slipped and fell.”

  “While holding a plugged-in power tool?” I shook my head. “It doesn’t seem likely.”

  “Neither does my son being murdered,” the old lady snapped. “Who would want to hurt him?”

  How about his entire family, except maybe you and Brandi? I looked at Reynolds for assistance.

  He didn’t miss a beat. “If you don’t think your son was murdered, what about suicide?”

  Helen’s incredulous expression spoke volumes. “My son was hardly the suicidal type. I doubt he suffered a day of depression his entire life.”

  “I’ll bet he caused a few, though.” The words were out of my mouth before I could engage my internal filter.

  Reynolds shot me a warning look, but Helen chose to ignore my faux pas. “Suicide is out of the question,” she said in a tone of steel, “and so is murder.”

  “Mrs. Huffington, I understand that this is difficult for you, but your son’s death was not an accident. That leaves murder and suicide.” Reynolds’s smile was tight. “You should know that I was on my way to arrest Huff for the murder of Jimmy Wright.”

  A collective gasp resounded around the gathered members of the Huffington clan.

  Helen cast Reynolds a venomous glare. “My son wouldn’t harm a fly.”

  So she was annoyed by the allegation, but not surprised. This intrigued me.

  “Come on, Grandma,” Martha said. “Dad had a terrible temper. Why do you think Mom left him? He’d be the type to fly into a rage and kill someone.”

  This was the most I’d heard her utter since we’d met. I took another look at Huff’s only daughter. In contrast to the rest of her family, Martha appeared to have blossomed since receiving the news of her father’s death. Even her cherry-patterned dress was cheerier than the drab hues she’d chosen on previous days. Could she have snapped and murdered him?

  “If Dad knew he was on the verge of being arrested, doesn’t that point to suicide?” Amb’s voice was unnaturally high. “Maybe he wanted to spare the family the humiliation of a trial.”

  “I don’t see how taking himself out spares you guys humiliation,” I said. “It’ll be all over the media regardless.”

  “I need to talk to everyone who was in the house when Mr. Huffington died.” Reynolds focused on Amb. “Let’s start with you.”

  The man paled under Reynolds’s scrutiny. “Okay. It’s no secret my father wasn’t a popular man, but none of us would have killed him.”

  “In that case, you have nothing to fear.” Reynolds motioned for Amb to follow him. To the rest of us, he said, “I’ll send Garda Timms in to collect each of you in turn.”

  After Amb had trooped out of the room with the policemen, Helen struggled to her feet and leaned heavily on her cane. She’d aged over the last few hours and looked every second of her eighty-four years. “Maggie, may I have a word with you in private?”

  I blinked in surprise. “Okay.”

  She led me to a sofa at the far end of the room, where we wouldn’t be overheard. She eased herself onto the sofa, wincing from the effort. “I’d like to ask you a favor.”

  I took a seat beside her on the sofa. “Sure, ask away. What can I do to help?”

  “You’re a private investigator. I want you to look into the false allegation Sergeant Reynolds made against my son.” Helen clasped her hands in her lap. Grief was etched in every line on her face. “I don’t know why the police have accused Huff of this terrible crime, but I won’t have his good name maligned.”

  Huff’s good name? Either Helen was delusional, or she was deliberately obtuse.

  “I’m sure the police will tell you why they think Huff was responsible for Jimmy’s death. Just because Huff is dead doesn’t mean the case on Jimmy Wright’s murder is closed.”

  Helen’s eyelids drooped. “Despite his sometimes difficult behavior, I can’t believe my son would take another man’s life. Especially not Jimmy’s. They were friends.”

  “If that was the case, why did you give me the impression you didn’t know Jimmy?”

  Helen’s gaze darted to the left. “We had a falling out many years ago. I hadn’t seen my nephew in thirty years.”

  I weighed my next words with care. “If I’m to investigate on your behalf, I need you to be honest with me, and you haven’t been so far. I understand that Jimmy worked for your company for several years and that you paid for his college education.” I leaned forward. “Why did you try to conceal that information?”

  “Perhaps I should have been more open, but I didn’t want to discuss the matter so soon after learning about Jimmy’s death, especially with a stranger.” Helen sighed. “No offense, dear, but we barely know each other.”

  The woman had a point, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that she was deflecting again.

  “My relationship with my nephew was complicated,” Helen continued. “I regret that we didn’t part on good terms when he left America, but my son remained in touch with him sporadically over the years. I believe they were involved in a business venture together.”

  “Do you mind sharing why you parted with Jimmy on bad terms?”

  Helen stood and stretched, making her old bones creak. “Come have a walk with me around the gardens.”

  I glanced at the closed door. “Shouldn’t we wait for Liam to question us first?”

  “We should, but we won’t.” Helen grabbed her cane and hobbled toward the patio doors. “I’m eighty-four years old. I’m hardly about to make a run for it.”

  The lady had a valid point. I followed her out onto the patio, and we walked in the direction of the Japanese garden.

  Helen leaned heavily on her cane, cementing my impression that she’d aged overnight. “I can guess why your Sergeant Reynolds thinks my son killed Jimmy Wright.”

  I waited for her to continue, clamping down on my eag
erness to hear the whole story. We had walked another few feet before Helen picked up where she’d left off.

  “My son had a difficult first marriage. Suzanne came from a different background than ours. Theirs was a love match, but the affection soon fizzled due to Huff working long hours and traveling so frequently.” Helen paused at the entrance to the Japanese garden and ascended the steps up to the pagoda. She eased herself onto the wooden bench, wincing in pain. “At this time, my nephew Jimmy was working for the company. He was a handsome lad in his youth, and he and Suzanne became great friends. And then it became more than friends. I tried to turn a blind eye. No marriage is perfect, and my son was no saint. But when Suzanne fell pregnant, I couldn’t keep silent any longer. I confronted her, and she crumpled. She said she wasn’t sure who was the father of her baby. She begged me not to tell Huff. I agreed on the conditions that Jimmy left and went back to Ireland, and Suzanne made an effort to be a good wife to my son.”

  “Did your ultimatum work?”

  “For a while.” Helen shifted her weight on the bench and stared out at the flowers floating down the slow-flowing stream. “When Rosie was born, I knew at once he must be Jimmy’s child, but I loved that little boy from the instant I clapped eyes on him. I don’t care if he’s not my biological grandson. I love him just as much as his brother and sister.”

  “Did Huff find out about Suzanne and Jimmy?”

  “Not immediately. I’m not sure how he discovered that Rosie wasn’t his son, but at some point in the last eighteen months, his attitude toward him changed. He’d always been hard on the boy but regarded him as his son and heir. A couple of years ago, he flew to Ireland to conduct business dealings with the Greers. He chose to come to Whisper Island incognito and stayed at Jimmy’s farm. I don’t know what happened. Huff persuaded Jimmy to invest in the hotel, and Jimmy had no reason not to trust his cousin.”

  “Did Huff take Jimmy’s money as revenge?”

  “I think so. That’s the sort of revenge my son would engage in.” Helen sighed. “For him, losing money was akin to losing face. To be stripped of your life savings would be the ultimate humiliation.”

 

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