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

by Zara Keane

  “No problem. Good luck with your case.”

  After I’d disconnected, I mulled over what the gardener had told me. The dead plant hadn’t raised any alarm bells until Hennessy mentioned it had been mixed with milk. Had Huff’s killer intended to use poisoned milk as a backup plan? But why throw it in the plant’s pot? Why not wash it down the sink? Had they been interrupted on their way to Huff’s room and panicked?

  The church bells chimed the hour, jolting me back to the present. It was time for me to get back to the café to help Noreen with the lunchtime rush. I turned my key in the ignition and started the car’s engine. I had no idea how the weed killer tied in with the case, but my instinct told me it did. The challenge was figuring out how.

  21

  AFTER MY MONDAY shift at the Movie Theater Café had ended, I drove to the Whisper Island Hotel. Carl Logan had arranged for Lenny and me to meet Carol, the maid who’d overheard Huff’s fight with his staff. After my conversation with Felicity and her friends this morning, I was inclined to think that the staff angle was a dead end, but my police training had taught me to look at every angle in an investigation.

  When I got to the hotel, Lenny was waiting for me in the bustling lobby, bouncing from foot to foot. I maneuvered my way through the crowd, and he greeted me with a broad grin. “Hey, Maggie. Ready to play Scully to my Mulder?”

  Personally, I felt he was more Shaggy to my Scooby-Doo, but whatever. “Sorry to disappoint you, Lenny. Aliens played no role in Huff and Jimmy’s murders.”

  “Whatever about Jimmy, I doubt aliens would want Huff,” he said. “I’m sure they have better taste.”

  “I’ll take your word for it,” I said dryly. “You’re the UFO expert.”

  Lenny glanced at his watch. “We’re kinda early. Carl said Carol didn’t finish work until five. Want to grab a coffee in the hotel café while we wait?”

  After a day fueled by espresso, I was all coffeed out, but I nodded. “Sure—if we can find a seat.”

  Although the café was as busy as the lobby, we got lucky and scored the last table on the terrace. Out of habit, I cast my gaze over the customers. And sucked in a breath. Martha Huffington sat at a table on her own, a digital reader in one hand and an iced coffee in the other. I checked the time. We still had twenty minutes before we could meet Carol.

  I leaned across the table and lowered my voice. “Is it okay if I go talk to Martha? I’d like the chance to speak to her on her own.”

  “Smart. Go ahead. If you’re still with her when we’re due to see Carol, I’ll go on my own.”

  I bit my lip. “Are you sure? You know what to ask her, right?”

  “I got this, Maggie,” he said, his expression uncharacteristically serious. “If I want to be your assistant full-time, I’ve got to get used to interviewing people.”

  He had a point. I got to my feet. “Okay. Text me when you’re finished.”

  Lenny gave me a mock salute. “Yes, boss.”

  I strolled over to Martha’s table. She was engrossed in her book and didn’t notice my approach. “Hey, Martha.”

  Startled, the woman jerked to attention. “Oh, hi.”

  I gestured to the free seat at her table. “Do you mind if I join you?”

  “Uh, sure.” She blinked owlishly and regarded me as though she were a cornered mouse.

  I sat and pointed at her digital reader. “What are you reading?”

  “A guide to Venice.” Her voice was barely audible. “I’d like to visit Italy now that…” She trailed off, but I caught her drift.

  “You mean now that your father is dead,” I said gently.

  “Yes.” Martha swallowed and put her reading device into her bag. “Dad wasn’t keen on the idea of me traveling alone.”

  “You’re an adult,” I pointed out with a touch of exasperation. “Why didn’t you just go?”

  The woman splayed her fingers on the tabletop and stared at her hands. “It seems strange to you, I know, but Dad was very protective of me.”

  “Controlling” was the word I’d have chosen, but I didn’t quibble. “Now that’s he’s gone, you can go wherever you like.”

  “I guess so. I mean, it’ll take a while for my inheritance to come through, but the bank is willing to offer me a short-term loan.” She looked me straight in the eye and held my gaze for the first time since we’d met. “I intend to take them up on that offer. I’m not flying back to Boston with the others. I’ll tour Ireland and fly to Italy after.”

  “Good for you,” I said and meant it. After years of belittlement, Martha deserved some fun.

  A wry smile tugged at the corners of the woman’s mouth. “Aren’t you shocked that I’m not going back for Huff’s funeral?”

  “It’s not my place to judge. You’ve got to do what’s best for you.”

  These words appeared to relax her. “My brothers aren’t happy, but Candace has been wonderful. She had traveled all over Europe before she married Amb. She was an art talent scout, you know.”

  I hadn’t known. “Did she give up her job after she married your brother?”

  “Yes, but not immediately. As Dad so rudely pointed out in front of everyone, she and Amb had trouble having kids. In the end, they resorted to IVF treatments, and all the appointments made the constant travel difficult. Once Hailey was born, Candace didn’t want to be away from the baby.”

  “You’re very fond of Hailey, aren’t you?”

  Martha’s expression softened. “I adore her. I’d never considered myself a baby person until she was born.”

  “Listen, Martha…could I, well, may I ask you a couple of questions?” I began with deliberate hesitation, fiddling with my fingers to emphasize my supposed reluctance to bother her. I disliked manipulating the woman, but one thing I’d learned from my years on the force was to tailor my interview techniques to the suspect’s personality. A timid character like Martha would respond well to my feigned apprehension.

  “Sure. Grandmother told me she’d hired you to clear Dad’s name.” Her voice was less tentative than it had been before, confirming I’d been right to play the nervous card.

  “That’s right. I think your father’s murder and Jimmy Wright’s murder are connected.” Again, I hesitated, allowing Martha time to gather her thoughts. “If the murders are linked, so is the attack on Sergeant Reynolds.”

  “Unfortunately, yes.” Martha sighed. “I hope Liam is okay.”

  “He’s still in the hospital.” I didn’t elaborate or mention the police guard outside his room. For all I knew, the dowdy woman sitting across from me had tried to kill Reynolds. “Did you happen to see anyone in the gardens before the attack? You guys went for a walk, right?”

  Her eyes widened in surprise, and I caught a glimpse of fear before she blinked it away. “Of course. You were in the gardens just before Reynolds was attacked. I suppose you saw us.”

  I chose not to correct her assumption. Better to let her believe I’d seen her, and she’d be more likely to name whichever brother had been with her on that walk. “Yeah. I saw both of you on my back to the house. I was just wondering if either of you had seen anything suspicious?”

  “No. Doug and I just wanted a chance to talk.” Martha twisted her rings. “We knew the police would suspect the family.”

  “And you had an inkling they’d be right.”

  The woman nodded. “I don’t think my father was killed by an intruder, and you and your family had no reason to kill him. So yes, it must have been one of us.”

  “Do you have any idea which one of you is the killer?”

  Her lips twisted into an ironic smile. “I know it wasn’t me.”

  And you won’t tell me if you suspect one of your brothers. I chose another tack. “Did you notice anything odd on the day of your father’s murder? Anything that stands out in your memory.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Dad announcing he was changing his will was pretty memorable.”

  “Yeah. That must have upset you.”


  “The new terms wouldn’t have made any difference to my situation.”

  “No, but it would have negatively impacted your brothers. You must have been upset on their behalf.”

  “Yes, but I didn’t kill our father.”

  Martha’s quiet certainty convinced me that she wasn’t the killer. However, I couldn’t rule out that she’d helped one or both of her brothers commit the crime.

  “Where were you when Huff was killed?”

  She raised an eyebrow. “In bed, of course.”

  “So you didn’t see or hear anything strange?”

  “I heard your friend fall over in the suit of armor. I’d imagine the whole house heard that.”

  Touché.

  “In other words, you didn’t see anyone walking around the house that night?”

  “As I said, I was in bed. After the stress of the day, Candace had given me one of her sleeping pills, but I only took half, and it didn’t really work.”

  “The gardeners said they put all the power tools back in the shed before they finished work on Saturday. Whoever killed your father broke the padlock off the shed’s door and stole a hedge trimmer.”

  She shuddered. “That indicates premeditation.”

  “Exactly.”

  Martha took a sip from her iced coffee glass, frown lines creasing her usually smooth forehead. “I know you want me to speculate about the killer, Maggie, but I won’t do it. Doug and Amb are my brothers. If one of them killed Dad, he didn’t do anything all three of us haven’t fantasized about at some point.”

  “There’s a big difference between imagining killing a person and actually committing a murder. I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve dreamed about inflicting fatal injuries on my ex, but I can guarantee you I wouldn’t do it. If one of you killed your father, the police will find out, sooner or later.”

  The woman opposite me toyed with her spoon, avoiding eye contact. “I’m not so sure about that. The new guy on the case seems to think one of the gardeners did it.”

  I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Typical O’Shea. What motive did he think the Hennessy brothers had to kill Huff? “Was your father in the habit of taking a late night swim?”

  “Yes. He suffered from insomnia. If he couldn’t sleep, he often got up and went for a swim in the pool at home. I guess the same must have happened the night he died.”

  “Who knew your father liked to swim at night?”

  Her laugh was tinged with a note of bitterness. “We all knew. Family and servants.”

  I went over the scenario in my mind. Perhaps one of Huff’s children couldn’t sleep and went for a walk. They’d noticed Huff in the pool, and decided to take the opportunity to kill him. We’d all seen the Hennessy brothers using power tools earlier that day, and the Huffingtons knew where the shed was located. I swallowed a sigh. My conversation with Martha had brought me no closer to finding the identity of Huff’s killer and Reynolds’s attacker—assuming that person was one and the same. I glanced at my watch. Lenny would be talking to Carol by now. “Thanks for the chat, Martha. I’m sorry to ask you awkward questions.”

  She shrugged. “It’s your job.”

  As I stood to leave, a snippet of my conversation with Rob Hennessy floated to the forefront of my mind. “Do you know why the plant in front of your father and Brandi’s room died?”

  Martha blanched, her knuckles turning white around the handle of her iced coffee glass. “No.”

  Liar, liar, pants on fire. Finally, I was onto something. “Only Rob Hennessy says someone dumped weed killer into the pot.” I paused for dramatic effect. “Weed killer that had been mixed with milk.”

  Martha’s mouth opened and closed, but no words came out.

  I slipped one of my newly printed business cards out of my pocket and slid it across the table. “If you think of any reason why poisoned milk would have been dumped outside your father’s room, give me a call.”

  She didn’t take the card, but she inclined her head, wordlessly.

  I left Martha staring at my card, a stricken expression on her homely features. My gut said she’d call me. Whether or not she’d divulge the name of the murderer when she did so was another matter.

  I retraced my steps back to the lobby. Lenny was lounging in one of the leather armchairs near the hotel exit. From his downcast look, I surmised that the interview with Carol had not been fruitful.

  He leaped to his feet when he saw me. “Hey, Maggie. How’re tricks? Did Martha have anything interesting to say?”

  “No, but her reactions to my questions were interesting.” We walked out the revolving doors and down the steps toward the parking lot. “How did the interview with Carol go?”

  Lenny pulled a face. “She had nothing to add that Carl hadn’t told us already. She overheard Huff screaming at his staff and firing a couple of them. The valet was one of the people fired, but he was still at the hotel the following day, so Carol assumes he sorted it out with Huff. The women left by the afternoon ferry.”

  “Jill and Alexis were the names Reynolds mentioned,” I said. “Did Carol mention them?”

  “Yeah. She said one was Huff’s personal massage therapist, and the other was supposed to act as Hailey’s nanny for the trip.”

  “Supposed to? What happened?”

  “Apparently, Huff hired the nanny without consulting Amb and Candace. They objected, and opted to look after Hailey themselves.”

  We’d reached my MINI, and I unlocked the car. “Thanks for coming with me today and taking over the Carol interview. I’m sorry it turned out to be a bust.”

  “Not entirely.” Lenny grinned. “I didn’t learn much from Carol, but I did bump into Amb and Doug.”

  My hand froze on the ignition. “And? Don’t leave me in suspense.”

  “And I persuaded them to come to the Unplugged Gamers meeting tomorrow night.”

  I blinked. “But tomorrow’s Tuesday. The next club meeting isn’t until Thursday.”

  “Yeah, but Doug and Amb don’t know that. I called the others to make sure we had members present. Mack can’t make it, but Julie and Günter will be there.”

  I cast him a sideways glance. “You sly dog. Where are we holding this impromptu meeting?”

  “I told them to be at your place at eight.” Lenny grinned. “I thought it’d give us a chance to chat with them in a relaxed environment. And my grandfather’s poteen has a habit of loosening tongues.”

  I gunned the engine and eased the car out of the parking lot. “Okay Mr. Future Assistant, I guess I’d better stock up on snacks.”

  22

  ON TUESDAY, my shift at the café ended at two o’clock, and I devoted my afternoon to chasing down Paddy Driscoll’s missing sheep. My motivation was nonexistent, but I’d made a deal with Paddy, and I’d uphold my end of the bargain—even if I used the opportunity to sneak in a few questions relating to Jimmy Wright’s murder.

  I knocked on doors, drank endless cups of tea, and asked the same questions over and over again. And every time, I drew a blank. No one knew what fate had befallen Nancy the sheep, and no one knew any reason why Huff Huffington—or anyone else, for that matter—would want Jimmy Wright dead. The only silver lining to my day was scoring an appointment with Jimmy’s neighbor, Noel Ahearn, who’d returned from his vacation. I was due to visit him tomorrow evening.

  By eight o’clock, I was exhausted. The last thing I wanted to do was play board games, but I’d stocked up on supplies and made the cottage semi-presentable for my guests.

  Lenny was the first to arrive, rolling up to my door with a bottle of his grandfather’s poteen and a plate of brownies.

  I stared at the gooey chocolate confections and groaned. “Oh, no. I’ve seen the effects of your brownies in action. No way am I serving those.”

  He grinned. “They’re just brownies, Maggie. No secret ingredient this time. I swear.”

  I sniffed at the plate. They smelled okay. Better than okay, actually. My treacherous stom
ach rumbled, making us both laugh. “All right. If you promise there’s nothing illegal in these brownies, we’ll keep them.”

  He followed me into the kitchen, where he allowed himself to be accosted by Bran, a dedicated crotch sniffer. “Hey, boy. How are you doing?”

  Bran whined in excitement and danced around my friend’s legs.

  I folded my arms across my chest. “Unbelievable. The only other person he displays this much affection for is Reynolds.”

  Lenny scratched behind Bran’s ears, sending the dog into paroxysms of delight. “Have you heard from the sarge? Timms is annoyingly discreet.”

  My stomach clenched at the memory of this morning’s frustrating conversation with an officious nurse. “I’ve tried calling the hospital several times, but they won’t give out information to someone who isn’t a family member. I’ve been relying on Timms for updates.”

  “What does he say?”

  “That Reynolds has a concussion and will be in the hospital for another few days. I’ve sent him text messages, but no reply so far.”

  This irked me more than I cared to admit. I was being irrational, but the weekend on Gull Island had propelled our relationship into unchartered territory. I had no clue where I stood with the guy, and I had even less of an idea of where I wanted to stand. “I’m close to tracking down his family members for more info, but I don’t want to be stalkerish.”

  “Under the circumstances, I’m sure they’d understand. Unfortunately, I doubt they can tell you anything more than Timms reported. If the guy has a concussion, he needs rest.”

  “I need to pick up summer clothes,” I said. “I finish work early on Friday, and I’ll get the ferry over to the mainland. If I drive to Galway to go shopping, I can stop by the hospital and see how Reynolds is doing.”

  “That’s smart. Hopefully, he’ll be awake and alert by then.”

  My doorbell rang, sending Bran into a barking frenzy. He raced to the door, ready to sniff-test my guests. Amb and Doug stood on my doorstep. The former looked ill-at-ease, and the latter wore his habitual slick smile. For once, Bran hung back. An icy sensation settled between my shoulder blades. The last time my dog had disdained someone, they’d turned out to be a killer.