Philip seemed to contemplate this offer briefly and then let out a large sigh as though resigned to it, even if it might have been beneficial. “Don’t let him roll in fox shit”, he said. “And let me know if he eats anything. I haven’t had to fill his bowl in days.”
Isabella watched her sister disappear into the grounds around the house, every once in a while picking up a stick and tossing it for Alexander to chase. When she made sure that Gracey had disappeared beyond the tree line, which represented a fifteen minute hike back up to the house, she gathered her things and took them into her sister’s bedroom. The digitalin had been much easier to make than she had expected. The foxgloves grew naturally in the countryside around the house and the internet at the library had provided her with a step by step guide on how to extract the poison.
Isabella hated her stepfather with a passion. She’d wanted him dead for a long time, and decided that now was finally the time to do it. She hid the vial at the back of one of Gracey’s clothes drawers, deep enough for it not to be easy to find. Killing her stepfather was one thing, but framing her sister another completely. If she could, she would have done it without implicating anyone at all, but she knew that the police would continue to poke around until they’d found the culprit, and Isabella just couldn’t take the risk. Besides which, she resented Gracey. She resented her for being the intelligent one when that label could just as easily have stuck to her. Gracey wasn’t more intelligent than anyone else in the house, she just liked to think she was because she read books and wore glasses. Pandora had been a bitch too, but at least she’d stood by her younger sister, which was much more than Gracey had ever done, especially so recently, in what Isabella saw as a direct attempt to befriend the man that had made their childhood such hell.
With the vile in place, and a separate quantity decanted to a pipette, Isabella went to her stepfather’s office, to slip the fluid brazenly into his drink with every intention to kill him. She had measured an amount that would take effect some hours after she’d given it to him, when Gracey would definitely be back from her walk. She thought about leaving the house and giving herself an alibi, but the potential to be around when he choked seemed like a much more favorable option.
For the second time that night, Philip invited a guest into his office. He hadn’t expected Isabella, and despite telling her he was busy, the girl rudely barged into his room.
“It will only take a minute”, Isabella said. “But I think it’s something you should know.”
Philip eyeballed her sternly.
“I have a confession.”
“Well”, Philip said, already irritated by this intrusion.
Isabella paused theatrically. She drew breath and rubbed her hands. “Well what is it, girl?” Philip demanded.
“I think you better have a drink before I tell you”, Isabella said.
She hadn’t planned how to get the poison into his drink, but knew it wouldn’t be too difficult. There were two things Philip couldn’t resist in life, drink and money. His immobility was the thing that played the biggest part, however. Isabella had his glass in her hand before Philip had even thought about taking it to the drinks cabinet himself. Philip never kept the bottle by his side because he considered it vulgar. He thought it would make him look like an alcoholic.
Philip reluctantly let Isabella take his glass, holding it momentarily before she pulled it out of his fingers.
“This better be good”, he said, looking up to her suspiciously.
“Oh, don’t you worry”, Isabella said, “it is.”
The poison was squirted into his glass with the expertise of a CIA assassin. A twist of the spoon melded the two liquids together. Had Philip been about to drink his first and not sixth glass of the day, he may have noticed the subtle difference in flavor, as it was, he barely raised an eyelid.
Isabella watched avidly as the liquid slipped past his lips, and then couldn’t help but smile as she watched him greedily gulp it down.
“Well?”, Philip commanded.
There was that pause again. That theatrical, manipulative hesitation. “Mom’s having an affair.”
Philip studied the girl closely, and then sucked down the rest of his drink.
“Why are you telling me this?”
Isabella shrugged her shoulders. “I thought you would want to know.”
“Is that it?” Philip said.
“She’s fucking him right here in your house.”
“Get out of here, Isabella.”
“In your room”, Isabella said. “Everyone can hear it.”
“Out”, Philip said calmly, even though he was far from it.
“I just thought you should know”, Isabella said, already on the way to the door. “It was pretty obviously she was sucking his cock last night too, it’s fucking gross.”
Isabella closed the door before Philip could respond.
“Fucking cunt”, Philip spat out.
Gracey returned with Alexander half an hour later. She noted an increase in Philip’s irascibility but nothing she wouldn’t have put down to drink. An hour after that, on her way to ask for some pocket money, Pandora found him slumped over the floor, his lips dotted with blood.
Chapter 25
Esmeralda pulled the huge document out of the jiffy bag cover. It was addressed to Leighton, of course, but anything addressed to her boss was eligible to be opened by his secretary. Leighton knew that. The lawyers who sent it would have known that. Everyone in the world would have known that, except for Philip Mandrake De Vries.
“Dear Leighton”, Esmeralda read aloud. And then… “Fucking hell.”
For the second time in a week, her plush white carpet bore the stains of a spilled glass of red wine.
Part Four.
Present day…
Chapter 26
For the sake of expediency, Leighton had agreed to have legal representation provided by mobile phone conference call, which he broadcast into the room by speaker phone. He tried to do the same for Gracey, but had no way of putting his team directly in contact with her. For all he knew, she was at a completely different police station on the other side of town, with her mobile phone already taken away from her and dispensed in a locker until she was finally let out again. The best he could do was give them her name and hope that they could find her in time. He didn’t really know how it worked at all, beyond what he’d seen on TV and films.
The only thing he could be absolutely certain of was their innocence, what he had to do now was prove it.
“Pandora and Isabella have confirmed that they saw you at the house on the evening of the fourteenth, can you tell me what you were doing there?”
“What is my client being charged with?” crackled the mobile phone. “Leighton, you don’t need to answer that.”
“This is ridiculous”, came another voice.
“Esmeralda, can you tell Detective Foster what was I doing on the fourteenth?”
“How much detail do you want me to give him?”
Leighton rolled his eyes. “However much you think is necessary to confirm I wasn’t here, planning the murder of my estranged father.”
“We were together on the fourteenth”, Esmeralda confirmed, her voice carrying a tone of bitterness.
“Are you prepared to confirm that in a court of law?” Detective Foster said, taking a moment to examine the dirt underneath his fingernails.
“Yes, I am”, Esmeralda said. “Leighton was with me all night.”
“And are you absolutely sure it was the fourteenth?”
“I have it in my diary. 8pm dinner with Leighton. 9pm until the early hours, fucking all night. Do you remember that Leighton?”
“Esmeralda, this isn’t the time.”
“The last I hear from you I’m being dumped, the next you’ve been arrested for murder. Thanks for keeping me in the loop. There’s something here for you by the way, something from Philip. I thought it was a legal pack, you know, something to do with the inheritance,
but it’s not. It’s a letter or something. Some kind of apology.”
“Thank you, Esmeralda. I’ll take a look at it when I get out of here.”
“Is that it, can I go now?”
Leighton looked to Detective Foster to give the answer, his hands spread out passively.
“Someone will be in touch to take a statement”, Detective Foster said.
“When you let him out, tell him to come home. This business is falling apart without him. Do you hear me Leighton?”
Leighton sighed and Esmeralda clicked off. “What do you know about this document?” Leighton asked his legal team, but before they could respond, Detective Foster jumped in.
“I have a few more questions first, if that’s ok with you?”
“Look, inspector-”
“Detective.”
“Detective. You know I had nothing to do with this. What is it exactly you want from me?”
“How did you know your father was dying?”
“You don’t have to answer that Leighton”, came one of the voices from across the phone.
“You show up, unannounced, nobody knows who you are, you make friends with the family, particularly Gracey, and then suddenly, you inherit some astonishing amount of money. Well, astonishing for most people. I guess it’s a drop in the ocean for someone like you.”
“I came because Philip was my father”, Leighton said. “I wanted to see him before he died.”
Detective Foster leaned forward on his chair, stabbing the air with the end of his thumb. “Yeah, but how did you know that?”
Leighton sighed. “I didn’t kill Philip Mandrake De Vries, I didn’t even know him.”
There was a pause that would have been filled with the inhaling or exhaling of cigarette smoke, had either of the two men been smokers. Leighton had never picked up the habit and Detective Foster had let go of it a long time ago.
Leighton knew he didn’t have to explain any more than he already had about his father, but if he did, the Detective might let him out earlier, which meant he had much more chance of helping Gracey.
“I paid a private Detective to find him, just so I knew who he was. I didn’t make contact, I didn’t watch him from afar, I just wanted a name, and that was it. That was about five or six years ago, I don’t remember exactly. I grew up without parents, Detective. I feel like it has made me the man I am today. Parents hold children back, they limit them from reaching their full potential. I had people that looked after me for a while, but I never had what you would call ‘parents’.” Leighton made sure he encased the word in inverted commas he drew purposefully through the air.
“So why bother looking for yours if you were happy not having any?”
“Curiosity and weakness.” Leighton said leaning forwards challengingly, eyes leveled at the Detective’s. “We all have it.”
“And you found Philip?”
Leighton relaxed back into his chair.
“I did eventually, yes. He’d been careful about hiding his tracks, and I almost didn’t find him at all. I got lucky. I guess I would have done anyway, after his death.”
“Perhaps it would have been better if you had.”
Leighton had to laugh at that. “Detective, you are the one holding me in here.”
“What about the rest of your family?”
“This really isn’t relevant”, one of the lawyers said.
“I have my mother’s name, and a photo of her as a child. I have never had any intention of finding her.”
“Not even if she has a few billion dollars she wants to donate?”
“Where exactly is this line of questioning going, Detective?”
Despite agreeing with his lawyer, Leighton decided to answer the Detective’s question anyway. “I didn’t come here for the money, and it’s not why I’ve stayed either.”
“Gracey.”
Leighton took a sip from the water that had been provided for him. It tasted like copper and peat.
“She didn’t do it”, Leighton said.
Detective Foster made a sound that fell somewhere between disagreement and intrigue.
“She has motive, her prints were all over the glass he was poisoned from, the forensics team found the same poison in a vial hidden at the back of her chest of drawers, and she has no alibi.”
“She didn’t do it”, Leighton repeated. “I think you believe the same as well.”
Now it was Detective Foster’s turn to lean back in his chair.
“Am I being charged, Detective?” Leighton said evenly.
Detective Foster folded his hands over his chest, while he cocked his head to one side.
“No”, he said reluctantly. “Not today.”
Leighton shook his head. “This is a farce, and you know it. Gracey’s being set up. Whatever Pandora and Isabella and Alexis say, it’s bullshit. They are covering each other’s backs.”
“With all due respect, Mr. Tempest, have you really known Gracey long enough to make that statement? You talk about whether having parents are important, and by all accounts, you got off lightly. Philip was an absolute monster to those girls, and Gracey had every motive in the world to want the man dead.”
“Just because he was a bad father, it doesn’t mean Gracey wanted him dead, and even if she did, that doesn’t mean she killed him.”
“That may be for a judge to decide.”
“What do you think?”
“I’m a police officer, Mr. Tempest, I believe in facts. Facts don’t have emotions, they just are.”
“You are free to go, Leighton, you realize that? That is what you said, Detective, yes?” came the slightly broken message from one of the legal team.
“He’s free to go, but I might ask that he stay somewhere we can get to him quickly.”
“I hope you’ll be hauling Pandora in here”, Leighton said. “She’s obviously trying to set me up.”
“I’ll speak to Pandora again, don’t you worry.”
“Thank you for wasting my time.”
Leighton stood up, collected his coat from the back of the chair and clicked his mobile phone off. Detective Foster looked up to him, his face expressionless.
“What will you do with Gracey?”
Detective Foster sighed. “That, to a certain degree, is out of my hands completely. It’s likely that she’ll be charged in the next day or so. I’ll write up an arrest report and the prosecutor will take it from there.”
“And in the meantime?”
“She’s under arrest Mr. Tempest.”
“So was I until about five minutes ago.”
Detective Foster rolled his eyes. “It won’t take me a minute to put you back under if you’re changing your statement.”
“So I tell you I’m innocent and you believe me, yet when Gracey says it, it makes no difference.”
“I thought you were leaving”, Detective Foster said.
“I don’t even know why I came in the first place.”
Leighton started for the door.
“Don’t leave town, Leighton.”
Foster nodded to his sergeant to open the door.
“Believe me”, he said before leaving. “I’ll be here until you arrest the right Logan.”
Chapter 27
Gracey’s interview had lasted just over six hours. After that, she was placed in a holding cell and denied access by visitors. After his own interview, Leighton got confirmation that Gracey was in the same station and then waited patiently in the entrance hallway for her to come out, only to be swamped in the interim by scoop-hunting journalists that had somehow got hold of the story. After they were evicted, and huddled together outside waiting, Leighton was greeted by the lawyer he had managed indirectly to put in place for her, who told him flatly that she wasn’t going to be released tonight. Furious and tired, he tried to push his way past a wall of police officers towards her holding cell, only to be told firmly, that if he didn’t remove himself from the police station immediately, he would be arrested again,
and charged with creating a public nuisance.
Alex Dibbell, the lawyer that his legal team had contacted, who had spent less than half of the police interview with Gracey after driving three hours to get there, filled him in on the details, and what he should expect from now on.
There was a consistency to the questions that Gracey had been asked, and a reflection of that consistency in the responses she gave. No matter what they said that she had done, no matter how much they pushed her for a confession, or taunted her with what they considered to be evidence so strong it could keep her in prison for years, Gracey maintained her innocence. She said little before the lawyer arrived, and with his advice, hardly anything after it.
Gracey would be charged as soon as the prosecutor could view the case. With the evidence they were presenting, it was almost certain it would go to court. If Gracey wasn’t offered bail, which might not be the case considering the severity of the charges she faced, she would be put in prison until the case could be heard. That could be anything between six weeks and six months, depending on the various schedules of the numerous different people involved. Leighton’s legal team would do everything they could to get bail posted, but Leighton was told to prepare himself for the very real possibility that that might not happen. A bribe, in this case, would not be the most intelligent path to follow either, so they just had to hope for a lenient prosecutor. Alex didn’t tell Leighton this, but he knew them all, and most were reactionary pricks.
“Go home, Leighton”, Alex said. “You’ve done all you can. She’s a little shook up but she’s fine. We’ll see what we can do about getting bail posted, other than that I’ll get someone to cast doubt on those tests. It’s pretty much hanging on that. No evidence, no court case. Gracey was with him before he died, but she says she didn’t kill him. She’s pretty adamant about that.”
“Just get her out of there as soon as you can.”
“You’re pretty sweet on her, huh?” Alex said. “I can see the appeal.”
“Your job, Alex”, Leighton said, before turning up the collar on his coat, fighting his way to his car, and pushing a photographer onto his ass on the way.
Donkey Doubled: A Twin Stepbrother Menage Romance Page 31