Poisoned Heart

by Jason Blacker

  “You know, Frances,” said Pearce, “I quite like this butler for it. His finger prints are on the bottle of cyanide, though we’ll never be able to prove it, but he’s admitted it anyway. Furthermore, he continues to cast aspersions on others, not the least of which is his employer, which I find rather distasteful.”

  “Yes, but he didn’t really say they had done it. He was just letting us know that Alys knew about Godfrey’s indiscretion and she wasn’t pleased about it. I daresay I’d be happy if my husband, God rest his soul, had been caught cheating with the maid.”

  “That’s a fair point. But it’s a far stretch to be the spurned wife or a cheating husband to then put everything at risk by killing your maid,” said Pearce.

  “A stretch indeed, but not the furthest that I’ve seen,” said Fran.

  “Still, I don’t see what they have to gain. Then there’s Eustace pointing fingers at Raustin. Though he ate the sandwich, part of it anyway, that killed his mother. I’m inclined to think that the poison was introduced after he ate the sandwich. In which case, I really like this butler for it. He says he really needs the job, and I bet if Christine had gone to Lord Apleby and complained about him trying to make advances on her that Godfrey would have fired him. This makes even more sense in light of Godfrey’s indiscretion with her. What do you say about that?”

  “I follow what you’re saying. But I just can’t help to think that Eustace was genuinely in love with Christine. I don’t see that kind of love capable of murder.”

  “Perhaps, but I’ve seen love turn to hate quicker than a man can change his socks. I think he wanted to shut her up so that he could keep his job.”

  Lady Alys Apleby came into the room, gently escorted by the constable. Inspector Pearce got up from behind the desk and held the chair for her. Fran smiled sweetly at her friend.

  “I hope you understand that we have to make inquiries of everyone,” Pearce said to Alys.

  “Yes, it’s quite alright,” she replied.

  Alys smiled at Fran.

  “Such a dreadful business,” Fran said, “to have it happen right under your nose.”

  “Yes, such a tragedy, though I’m not sure how much longer I might have been able to keep her.”

  “Why is that?” asked Pearce.

  “Well, she wasn’t very good to be honest. You’ve seen the mess in the kitchen. She couldn’t keep it clean and hardly ever kept to a regular tea time. Sadly, the poor girl wasn’t made out for housekeeping, I don’t think.”

  Fran nodded.

  “Listen, dear, we must be very open. We’ve heard that there were other things going on in this house with Christine and your husband.”

  Alys’ face turned pale and her mouth opened to say something and then she closed it again.

  “There’s no shame in it,” assured Fran.

  “I think there is, Fran. It is a shameful business when your husband is in bed with your housemaid,” she said.

  “Unfortunately, Lady Apleby, you do realize that this gives you motive. On top of that, your butler said he overheard you and Lord Apleby arguing about his indiscretion,” said Pearce.

  “Yes, that’s quite correct. I was absolutely livid with him and I told him as much. I told him he had to end it. If he wouldn’t, then I would.”

  “Is that what you meant when you said ‘I will destroy her’?” asked Pearce.

  “That’s exactly what I meant.”

  “Alys, you were also one of the last people to see her,” said Fran. “I know you went into the kitchen to speak to her about the sandwiches. You would have had an opportunity to place the cyanide in her food at that time.”

  “Good God, Fran, what are you insinuating?” asked Alys.

  “Nothing at all, I just want to let you know that you’re not fully in the clear.”

  Alys looked at her friend and steamed for a bit. She pursed her lips as if she might be biting her tongue.

  “I did not kill her, though I daresay I’m not terrible upset she’s dead. She’s brought nothing but incompetence and misery to my family.”

  “Do you have access to any poisons, Lady Apleby?” asked Pearce.

  “I certainly do not, Inspector. And if that’ll be all, I don’t like the way this conversation is going.”

  "Not yet," said Pearce. "We understand that you ordered Eustace to buy cyanide for you."

  Alys' cheeks flushed. She was steaming.

  "Yes, for our rodent problem. You have no idea how difficult it is to maintain a beautiful garden."

  Alys got up to go.

  Pearce nodded at his constable again.

  Lady Apleby shrugged off the offer of the constable’s arm, thrust her head high and stormed out of there.

  “She’s quite upset,” said Fran.

  “Yes, though I can’t blame her. Still, I don’t like her for the murdering type.”

  “Perhaps not,” said Fran.

  Lord Godfrey Apleby walked in with his hands deep in his pocket. His hair was still unruly. He shook his head.

  “Terrible business this is, here in my house,” he said.

  Inspector Pearce came around from the table again and shook Godfrey’s hand and gestured for him to take a seat.

  “Yes, sir, terrible business this is indeed. You do understand that we need to inquire into everyone’s whereabouts.”

  Godfrey nodded his head. He placed his arms across his rotund belly.

  “I haven’t had the pleasure of sitting on this side of my desk for quite some time,” he said, looking around and then over Pearce’s shoulder at his bookshelf. Pearce smiled.

  “Well, we won’t keep you too long. You’ll have your desk back in short order.”

  “Not at all, Inspector. I expect a thorough investigation and I won’t let you go until you have solved this heinous crime.”

  “Will do my best, sir,” said Pearce.

  “I do hope you’ll be easier on me than you were on my wife,” Godfrey chuckled.

  “Unfortunately, your wife is still upset over your, um, indiscretion,” said Pearce.

  “Oh that. Yes, that ended a few weeks ago now. Very bad decision on my part.”

  “We heard that you and Alys had a bit of a row over it, not long ago,” said Fran.

  “Yes, we did, Fran. That nosy butler, I have a good mind to sack him. Alys gave me an ultimatum and I decided to follow through on it. She was very upset about it.”

  “Do you think she was upset enough to kill?” asked Pearce.

  “Inspector,” said Godfrey, “you’re asking about my wife.”

  “Yes, sir, but we have to, you see, if we’re to get to the bottom of this,” said Pearce.

  “Well, Alys was certainly very upset by it. But I can’t imagine she’d kill over it. She’s never seemed like the type to me. Now Eustace, I don’t know about him, but I do know that Christine was getting uncomfortable with his advances. He was quite brazen about them, so she said.”

  “That does sort of give you motive to kill her,” said Pearce.

  “How so, Inspector.”

  “Well, jealousy is often a very powerful motivator.”

  “No, I don’t agree. You see, she wasn’t happy about it, his advances. And besides which, I had promised Alys I’d be done with her. If there was anyone I was going to murder it would’ve been him, the butler.”

  “What about the money you gave her?” asked Pearce.

  “Yes, that. Well, that was just a little something extra to help her get rid of her ex-husband. He had come bothering her and she said that ten pounds would get rid of him for good. I believed her, she was scared of him. He had hit her before, you know. Besides, I thought it was the least I could do for her for my indiscretions. She was really a good girl.”

  “There’s also this matter of the receipt from the pharmacist for cyanide,” said Fran. “I found it in your wastebasket.”

  “Alys had asked him to pick some up for the rodent problem we were having in the garden. He came back and gave me t
he receipt and my change while I was sitting in here a few days ago. I verified the money he had spent and chucked it away. I asked him to take it to the kitchen so the gardener could access it next week.”

  “Godfrey, you were also one of the last to see Christine. I saw you go back inside the castle to check on her,” said Fran.

  “Yes, I did, and she was quite alive when I got there, as you must know, because she shortly afterwards brought the sandwiches and tea out. I’ve never touched the cyanide, and if you print it, you’ll know. The last person I saw with the cyanide was Eustace.”

  “Thank you, Lord Apleby, you’ve been quite helpful,” said Pearce.

  Godfrey got up and heaved his big belly up like a sack of swaying flour.

  “So do you know who did it, yet?” he asked, looking back and forth between Fran and Inspector Pearce.

  “I believe it was the butler,” said Pearce, “and I’ll make the announcement shortly.”

  “I have an idea,” said Fran.

  And with that Godfrey walked his belly out of the room and took a seat with his wife on the sofa in the sitting room she was in.

  “I think you’re wrong, Inspector,” said Fran.

  “I don’t think so,” he replied.

  Fran whispered in his ear and he nodded and then nodded again.

  “Really? Interesting idea,” he said, “I’ll give you the floor to see if you can prove it.”

  With that, they got up and walked out of the study into the sitting room.

  “One of you is the cold blooded killer of Christine the housemaid,” said Pearce, “and I’ll let Lady Marmalade explain it to you. Fran, if you’d be so kind.”

  Pearce gestured towards Lady Marmalade who walked into the center of the room. She clutched her hands in front of her and looked down at a spot on the carpet.

  “There are many reasons for murder,” she said. “Not the least of which are jealousy, envy, rage and hatred. All of you here had a motive for killing that poor girl.”

  Mountbatten coughed. Fran looked up at him, nodded and smiled.

  “Except for Lord Mountbatten,” she said.

  “You, Lord Apleby, had motive to kill because another man was catching the eye of Christine. Yes, you said that you ended your relationship with her because of your wife’s ultimatum. And I believe you. Yet, a jealous man is still capable of killing. And when you heard that your butler was starting to move in on your spoils, you must have been enraged.”

  “But...” said Godfrey.

  “But, I do not believe that was reason enough for you to kill Christine.”

  Godfrey smiled and nodded proudly to himself.

  “Lady Apleby, you had motive to kill Christine too. She, a common woman, was bedding your husband and you were overheard angrily threatening to end it if your husband didn’t. Furthermore, you were one of the last to see Christine alive. Additionally, you ordered Eustace to go into town to buy the cyanide for your garden.”

  Alys shook her head.

  “No, as much as you had reason to kill, yours is not a murderous heart.”

  Alys looked around nervously at the others in the room. This was all such an embarrassment.

  “Harry, you had access to both the poison and the sandwich. We have heard that the poison was kept in the kitchen and there is a small circle of salt that was spilled on the tabletop where the sandwich was kept which indicated the location of that poison. It was there when you were haranguing your ex-wife for money.”

  “But I didn’t see it,” Harry protested.

  “That is irrelevant,” said Fran, “you could have come back in when Raustin left and poured the poison in Christine’s sandwich. But I don’t believe you did. You were drinking a bottle of beer you had with you when you came into the kitchen, which you discarded when you left. I believe that if you had come back into the kitchen, even though you were drunk, that you would have likely taken that bottle away with you, along with the vial and left them far away from the crime scene.”

  Lady Marmalade looked around and her gaze fell on Raustin.

  “Often it is the most neglected and spiteful children that come to murder their parents, but you, Raustin, did not know your father, so your only recourse was revenge on your mother. You were there in the kitchen, with access to the poison.”

  “But, I ate the sandwich,” he said.

  “Yes, you ate some of the sandwich. But you could have easily poured the cyanide into the remaining sandwich, thus feigning an alibi for yourself. Nevertheless, I do not think you are a killer, at least not the type of killer who would kill his mother. You came looking for an explanation and validation as to why she had not responded to your letters. This was not the mind of a murderer biding his time. No, you were angry, surely, but I believe you stormed out and left.”

  Raustin shuffled and Mountbatten poured himself a drink.

  “Well, then, who was it?” asked Mountbatten, “was it you?”

  They all had a chuckle at that. Lady Marmalade also smiled.

  “No, it was not me. I was never in the kitchen. The murderer was cunning, and though the murder might have been planned ahead, this was a murder of chance. Christine was murdered because she held an ugly secret. An ugly secret that she was willing to expose to those who would feed off it. She was murdered because she held the power to destroy a man’s income and livelihood. And she was murdered by that same man who had once been her lover.”

  Everybody looked around. Mountbatten looked at Harry and Godfrey and Eustace. Mostly, everyone looked at Harry.

  “The murderer, Lord Apleby, was you.”

  Alys gasped.

  “What?” said Mountbatten.

  “Sadly, she was murdered by her employer and her lover. You see, that money you gave her was not for Harry, it was rather, to shut her up. But you’d had enough of her blackmail. The reason why your business is doing so poorly is because she was robbing you blind. Isn’t that right Godfrey?”

  Godfrey rose to his feet in defiance.

  “Absolutely,” he declared, “that wench was trying to pull me down to her station and I’ll be dammed if I’d stand for it. She milked me of hundreds of pounds. Money I needed for the business. So yes, when I went in to check on the sandwiches, she asked for even more money. This time she wanted a thousand pounds or she’d go to the press. My vendors would drop me like a hot potato if they found out about something like this. So I told her we could discuss it after lunch. As she was preparing the sandwiches, I took the vial and poured it into her sandwich with some extra salt so she wouldn’t taste it.”

  He turned to his wife.

  “Don’t you see, she was going to ruin us. That kind of money would have left us destitute.”

  He turned back to Lady Marmalade.

  “I meant to throw the vial out far away, but it must have come out of my pocket when I left the kitchen, as I was reaching for my handkerchief to wipe the cucumber juice off my hands.”

  “Take him away, boys,” said Pearce to his constables.

  They walked up to him. He shrugged them off as they followed him outside. He turned around just before they left the sitting room.

  “I’m not sorry, you know.”

  And that was the last they heard from Lord Godfrey Apleby.