Next, she wrote Mairéid’s name on the list. She should have been first because she had the prime motive as the beneficiary in Alsander’s new will.
Then there was Sean. Jane looked up from her notebook to see Sean talking with a young woman at another table. So what if the medicine bottle was still sealed when it left his hands? He was in Alsander’s bedroom. He knew the layout and the contents on the bedside table. He could have conspired with Mairéid in some way to poison Alsander with the drugs. And, he could be lying about the choke hold. She added his name under Mairéid’s.
Did Fiona have anything to do with Alsander’s death? She was someone Jane had not seriously considered before, but she may have had a reason to wish Alsander dead. Fiona was always in the castle, cleaning or cooking or working as the receptionist, with access to Alsander’s medication. She may have secret knowledge about the others. She didn’t like Mairéid; she wanted Griff to go on running the B&B. Fiona, with her dreadlocks and piercings, might, just might, know where to get dangerous drugs. Was that profiling or simply common sense that a young person would have more insight into the drug scene? Wanting to consider everyone, she wrote Fiona’s name underneath Sean’s and added Kate’s at the end, even though Kate didn’t appear to be implicated in any way.
There was one more thing to keep in mind. What if Alsander simply died from natural causes associated with a state of excited delirium like Griff thought? The drugs could be a red herring. Maybe that’s all there was to it. Maybe the police were wrong. Maybe the police were trying to complicate things. It wouldn’t be the first time.
Jane’s phone pinged more than once. Another text from Dale. He’d stopped at her house, checked on her pups, and said the dog sitter was doing a good job. He would give her a call later. And a reply from Cheryl. Walked the Royal Mile, already saw the Palace of Holyroodhouse and Nat’l Museum of Scotland. Heard a Celtic band. U need to come over here & get far away from those druggies.
Jane couldn’t agree more, as soon as the murderer was caught. After zipping her purse shut, she tossed the old notes in the trash can. The door slammed behind her with a whoosh as she left the shop.
Chapter 16
Jane approached the solicitor’s office, McGrew & McGrew, Esquire. She was in luck. The door was unlocked, so she went inside. But there was no receptionist, only a miniscule waiting area with two ancient chairs, the kind you would find in an old schoolhouse, and a green, leafy plant.
A blonde woman approached from the hall. She was likely in her early thirties, wearing business-casual, black slacks, a long-sleeved, pink blouse, and a multi-patterned silk scarf tied around her neck. Her hair was cut in a severe style, short curls in back with long bangs in front. “May I help you with something?”
“Yes. My name is Jane Marsh and I’m staying at Lomán Castle.”
“I’m Elizabeth McGrew. Would you come into my office?” The attorney swept a wisp of her blonde bangs back from her eyes.
“Yes. Thank you.” Jane followed her to a room that would have been utilitarian if not for the prospering green, potted plants arranged on every shelf. The screen on the computer was black. A thin, silver pen lay at an angle across a yellow legal pad. “Tell me what you need.”
Jane took the lone guest chair in front of the desk. “Ms. McGrew, I have a question. I hope it’s a simple one.”
“Call me Elizabeth.” She spoke in that modulated, clear, professional voice that attorneys always used. “What’s your question?”
“Are wills public record here in Ireland?”
“The simple answer is yes.” The attorney went on explain the process and that wills were filed with the District Probate Registry. “If a Grant of Probate issues from the office, the public can get a copy. The fee is only about ten euros.”
“I’d like a copy of Alsander O’Doherty’s will. He’s the owner of Lomán Castle.”
“I know who he is.” She snared the silver pen off the yellow pad.
“Of course, you would.” Jane flushed with another thought. In the States, attorneys cannot discuss their clients. “Do you represent the O’Dohertys?”
“I do not. If I did, I would not be talking to you now. But, since I don’t represent them, there is something I can tell you. Something you’ll be interested in.”
Jane clutched the arms of the chair. “Yes?”
“There’s more than one will. There are two.” Her fist clasping the thin, silver pen flicked forward two times.
“Two?” Jane sat back and quirked her head in a question, but then she squinted her eyes in slow understanding. It made sense somehow.
The attorney set the pen down in one precise motion. “I checked the registry because I was curious myself, being a neighbor of the O’Dohertys. A dispute has been lodged.”
“What does that mean? What’s going to happen?”
“The judge will decide which will is valid. I haven’t heard anything more, so there’s nothing else I can tell you about it.” Elizabeth McGrew stood, so Jane did, too.
“Thank you for your time.” Jane crossed to the door and went out. She could always see about getting copies later, now that she had the short answer to her question. Her quick steps took her back to the castle.
No one was at the reception desk, so she proceeded to the kitchen. The low drone of the giant cooler was the only sound, and the sour odor of the cooked cabbage was in the air. As she was about to turn around to leave, Griff came through the door looking as sumptuous as ever. “Here you are…”
Jane ran a hand through her hair and raised her eyebrows, trying to give him what she hoped was a flirtatious gander, if she could remember what one looked like.
“Hello, a rúnsearc.” Griff made swift steps to her side.
Okay, so she had his attention. “Sit down, Griff.” She sat on one stool and gestured to the other one next to her. “There’s something I want to ask you about.”
“What?” He tugged a strand of her hair as he took a seat.
“I just learned there are two wills.”
He smiled, but it was different. His blue eyes crinkled as usual. His white teeth flashed as usual. But the smile was colder. “Who have you been talking to? Did Mairéid tell you?” He bunched his eyebrows together in a question.
She hesitated, her words slow. “No, Mairéid didn’t tell me. I was at the coffee shop this morning and talked to Sean Smithwicket.”
“What did he say?”
“That your uncle left the castle to Mairéid. He claims he saw that will.” She chewed on a fingernail, then blurted out, “And I talked to the solicitor across the street, Elizabeth McGrew. She’s the one who explained there are two.”
He ran a hand over the top of his head, then down over his face and chin. “It’s true Mairéid filed another will in which she inherits, but the one leaving the castle to me is the valid one.” Griff’s proprietary gaze darted around the room, taking in the industrial-sized oven, the walk-in refrigerator, the hanging pots on the rack. Then, he concentrated on Jane. “I was there when Uncle signed his will leaving the castle to me. Sean and Mairéid came up with another because they want the castle. Don’t you see it’s in their interest to fight it?”
“They must’ve had some basis for making the claim that Mairéid’s is the valid will.”
Griff reeled her stool around to face his. “Why are you taking their word for it over mine? What can I do to make you believe me, a rúnsearc?”
She stared at him, eye to eye. “What does that word mean?”
“Something like, my love.”
“Do you really mean that?” She crossed her arms.
“Trust me.”
“I do, Griff.” She did trust him more than the others, but he needed to tell her the entire truth, the whole story. After considering him for another moment, she said, “I have to ask again, who had your uncle in the choke hold?”
“No one, Jane. No one did. But Mairéid told the guards it was Bruce.” Griff touched two fingers to his eyebr
ow.
“She’s lying!” Jane dropped her jaw and raised her fist to her lips.
“I know that. I’m glad you see it now.” Griff had on a satisfied smile.
She chewed on a knuckle. Griff could have accused Mairéid or Sean, or even Bruce, of executing the choke hold, but he didn’t. Sean accused Griff, according to Griff Mairéid accused Bruce, and Griff, himself, accused no one. Why would he take that stand if it wasn’t the truth?
“What else do you want to know?”
She cupped her chin in her hand. “Is there anything else you haven’t told me?”
He raised his feet from the floor and shoved them onto the rungs of the stool. “There is one more thing. The guards questioned me about Bruce…if I knew he and Doug had been policemen before Uncle’s death. The guards are trying to build a conspiracy theory, and Mairéid’s feeding them information. She was the one who found Bruce’s website with his crazy posts.”
Jane’s shoulders stiffened. “Did you know? Did you know they’d been policemen?”
“I did.” He gave his head a shake, like so-what?
“That was years ago. How did you find out?”
“When they checked into the hotel. One of them mentioned it when I said there was free coffee set up in the dining room. Something about whether donuts were included.”
“Everything sounds so reasonable when you explain it to me, Griff.” She breathed out a heavy sigh of relief. Her arms uncrossed and fell to her lap.
“And I told Mairéid and Fiona, so everyone knew they’d been policemen. I need you on my side, Jane. Eventually, the police will give it up and let it go.”
She looked into his blue eyes, eyes which were once again smiling and dancing. But she had more questions. “There’s something else. Sean said he and Mairéid picked up your uncle’s last prescription on Sunday around five, and that when he dropped Mairéid off at the castle, the seal on the bottle was unbroken. Do you remember that?”
“I recall that Mairéid and Sean put the bottle in Uncle’s room around that time.”
“What about the seal. Was the bottle sealed?”
Griff’s eyes lit up and his voice became animated. “I can’t remember. Maybe it wasn’t.”
She gave him a level look. “Griff, someone put that amphetamine in the bottle after it left Ryan’s hands. Mairéid and Sean could’ve done that.”
“Maybe so, but it wasn’t me. I would never have done such a thing.” There was once again a look of steel behind the veneer. He touched his fingers to his forehead. He couldn’t seem to keep his hands away from his face.
Should she mention the excited delirium textbook from the library? The one now missing? Something held her back. She got up off the stool to make for the door. “I’d like to rest for a while in my room.”
Griff hopped off his stool, his feet landing solid on the floor, and caught her arm. “Are we okay now? You and me?”
They were standing close to each other when Mairéid walked in with Sean Smithwicket behind her. Griff half turned away from Jane and said in a harsh voice, “What do you two want?”
Sean parked his stout frame against the wall, but Mairéid pointed a long red fingernail at Jane. “I do believe you and your friends were trying to scare other guests away. The new people in room four found a fake mouse under the sink.”
Jane shut her eyes tight, but let a small laugh, like a hiccup, escape. “Oh, sorry. It was a joke.”
“I don’t think they were amused.” Mairéid’s voice had a sarcastic edge.
“I meant for the Breewoods to find it.” Jane held her palms up.
Mairéid’s gaze bounced between Griff and Jane. “You two are getting real cozy, it looks like.”
Griff’s gaze darted between his cousin and Sean. “Well, I’ve been wanting to ask you about your boyfriend, that doctor in Dublin. You haven’t said a word about him lately.”
“I’ve told you, we broke up months ago. I have a new fella now.” Mairéid exchanged a look with Sean, then she glanced at Jane. “Griff’s accused me of getting drugs from my old boyfriend. Which is insane. You’re both madder than a box of frogs.” She twirled her pointed finger around in the air near her temple.
Jane jumped at the opportunity. “Even if amphetamine is illegal here, I’m wondering if a doctor might be able to get a hold of it.”
“A doctor could get it?” Griff kept watching his cousin. “Really? That’s interesting.”
Mairéid counterattacked. “What about the new doctor, the one Griff, here, took Da to? He gave him those powerful tablets for anxiety. Da never had anxiety before. That was your doing, Griff.”
“Me? I don’t control what the doctor does.” Griff shrugged, relaxed in his domain. He didn’t seem as provoked as Mairéid apparently wanted him to be.
Her voice matched the angry look on her face. “I know you tried ta’ control Da. I was his daughter, his only child, but you wanted ta’ turn Da against me.”
Griff rocked back on his heels. “Well, you wanted Uncle to turn me out.”
“I did at that.”
“You admit it.”
“Still want ya’ to go, too.” Mairéid spat the words. “I won’t need to have anything more to do with you, once the castle is sorted out, that is.”
“Uncle owed me the castle. I’d worked for him for years. I had to earn my keep, not like you, coddled and spoiled. Nothing was required of you…”
Sean and Jane gave each other uncomfortable looks. Jane said, “Let’s get back to who gave Alsander the drugs—”
“It wasn’t me,” Griff and Sean said at the same time.
“Not me either.” For an instant, Mairéid’s eyes flickered.
Jane started to extract her notes from her purse, her fingers itching to add a word about Mairéid’s old boyfriend, the doctor, but she hastily shoved her new spiral back inside.
Mairéid flapped her hand, as if waving away Jane’s concerns. “Oh, I’ve seen your notes.”
Jane glared at her. “You’re the one who took my notes out of my purse! You stole my notes—”
“Fiona brought them to me a few minutes ago. Tole’ me you tossed ’em in the trash bin at the coffee shop.” Mairéid gestured toward Sean.
The man looked a little shamefaced when he said, “I fished them out of the trash and gave them to Fiona.” Mairéid sent him a pained look.
Jane could’ve kicked herself for leaving them in such a public place. “It’s no secret, then, that I’ve been making notes about the murder.” Griff and Mairéid had on guilty expressions. Had they both known she was writing everything down?
Mairéid pointed a long-nailed finger at Jane once again. “She likes ta’ sling the dirt, but she’s the one suspecting us.”
“Jane, do you have me down as a suspect?” Griff’s eyes narrowed.
She slanted a look at Sean. “Everybody’s on my list.”
Griff gave a mirthless laugh. “I’m glad to know you’re considering others, anyway.”
“The guards are looking into all o’ your backgrounds, and they’re looking closely at you, Griff.” Mairéid’s voice was loud, accusatory.
He let out a harsh breath. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Well, I certainly didn’t.”
“You want the castle.”
“So do you.”
“Okay already,” Jane spoke over them. “You’re always bickering. Why can’t you share the castle?” All three glowered at her. “Oh, I suppose even if you agreed on things, the police would need to keep investigating Alsander’s death.”
“That’s right.” Mairéid thrust out her chin. “They’ll get to the bottom of this.”
“Or I will,” Jane muttered to herself, as Griffin gave her a sharp look. She said, “I’m taking off, then.”
“I’ll walk out with you.” Griff started toward the door.
“That’s okay, Griff. I’d like to be on my own for a while.” Jane gave him a quick I’m-serious-smile, which he accepted with a
nod and a smile back at her. She made rapid strides through the dining room and came out at the reception desk where Fiona was reading another of her magazines.
Jane began to head for the stairs, but stopped and backtracked to the marble-topped reception desk. “Good morning, Fiona.”
Tinny rap music became louder when the young lady tugged her earbuds out. “Say what?”
“I said good morning. Or is it noon already?”
Before Fiona could answer, two of the new guests strolled over, and she said, “Can I help you?” They entered into a conversation, so Jane waited a moment, breathing in the scent from the flower arrangement. Finally, the guests left and the two were once again alone. “Do you need sometink, Jane?” Fiona cast a longing glance at her magazine.
Jane held the hallway in her view, but they were alone; Griff and Mairéid must still be busy in the kitchen and no other guests were in sight. “I have a question. Did Sean give you the notes I discarded in the trash can at the coffee shop this morning?”
“You tossed ’em out.” Fiona’s head, with the cornrows of long, dirty blonde dreadlocks, shot up, and her friendly manner vanished.
“Yes, I did, but I didn’t expect anyone to pick through the garbage.” Jane clutched the edge of the desk with both hands.
“Humph. I read that little bound notepad of yours, too, not just the notes from the trash.” Fiona had a triumphant tone in her voice.
“What?” Jane gripped the counter tighter. “Where did you find it?”
“In Mairéid’s room.” Fiona turned a page of her magazine and appeared to be studying it.
“Do you know where she got my notepad?”
“From you, I thought.”
“No, I didn’t give it to her.” Jane sucked in her breath, not wanting to burst out in anger.
Fiona only swatted the page of the magazine to turn to the next advertisement.
Jane’s head swiveled both ways, looking up and down the hallway, but they were still alone. There were obviously more places to search in the castle other than Alsander’s room. “Do you live here? I ask because you’re always working. You work very hard.”
A Stewed Observation Page 17