So I’m sure you’ll want to contribute something to the support of Ernest’s third child as well. His name is Oscar Lansing, though I’d be happy to have it changed to Worthing if you want. I’m sending a photo that will show you not only what a bright and adorable child he is but also how much he looks like his father. If you feel the need for additional proof of paternity in the form of a blood test, say the word and I’ll get it.
It was starting to sink in now: Oscar was not only Wanda’s son, but her own father’s as well. Emily’s half-brother.
By this time her hands were shaking so violently she could hardly read the remaining words. She took a deep breath and made an effort to steady them.
I’m not asking anything for myself; I’m sure you won’t think I have any claim on you. I ask only that a child of Worthing blood not be left to grow up dirt-poor. I’m sure your family pride wouldn’t want that any more than I do.
Sincerely,
Wanda Lansing
Emily laid the letter back in the folder as gently as if it were made of gold foil. Then she pulled her hands away and wrapped herself in her arms, feeling a sudden chill.
Jamie looked on with growing concern in his eyes. ‘Emily? Anything you want to tell me? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.’
‘I think I sort of have,’ she replied. ‘My father’s ghost. Looking like someone I don’t even recognize.’ Seeing Jamie’s look of utter confusion, she handed him the letter. ‘Here. Read for yourself.’
He skimmed it quickly, then cleared his throat twice. ‘That’s … that’s quite surprising,’ he said with proper lawyerly understatement. ‘I take it you had no clue about this before?’
‘None whatsoever. That is, about Oscar being my father’s son. Luke and I had already figured out Wanda was his mother.’
‘He doesn’t seem much like her, does he? Is he at all like your dad?’
The question startled Emily. At first thought Oscar and her father seemed to have nothing in common. But after all, both were lovers of literature. And everything she and Oscar shared had to come from somewhere. Perhaps on some level Oscar resembled what her father might have been without the booze.
She called both their faces to mind, searching for some physical resemblance. The coloring was right, at least; Oscar’s skin was as fair as Ernest’s, and the red in his beard suggested his hair might also have been red at one time. The height and build were similar, too. And when she first met Oscar, she’d had the feeling there was something familiar about him. Now she realized what it was – his eyes. Oscar’s eyes slanted upward at the outer corners, giving him a bit of an elfin look. Her father’s eyes had been exactly the same.
And his name. Now that odd comment of Wanda’s made sense: ‘It’s so important to be earnest.’ She was certainly alluding to the play – the play that had given Ernest Worthing his name, and the author of which had supplied the name she gave her son. Wanda had been dropping Emily a hint, if only she’d had the presence of mind to pick it up.
Jamie’s voice startled her out of her reverie. ‘What else is in there?’
‘Oh. Of course. Let’s see.’ She flipped through several documents, including a copy of Oscar’s birth certificate and an affidavit stating that his blood type was the rare AB negative, the same as Ernest’s. Then came a letter from Beatrice to Wanda.
Miss Lansing,
I accept that your son is indeed my nephew’s progeny. However, it is not my habit to endorse or subsidize immorality, whether on the part of my blood relations or of those with whom they choose to consort. Therefore, I cannot see my way clear to providing any sort of regular support for your son. You made your bed, as they say – rather literally in this case – and now you must lie in it. As you are employed, it seems unlikely you and your son will actually starve.
What I can do is to supply you with my nephew Ernest’s current address (see below). He certainly ought to take responsibility for his own actions, and I shall write to him myself urging him to do so.
With this letter I regard all correspondence between us as at an end. Should you persist in pestering me, any communication will be forwarded to my attorney unopened.
Sincerely,
Beatrice Worthing Runcible
Jamie giggled. ‘Mrs Runcible certainly knew how to put people in their place.’
‘Yes, but that wasn’t the end of it. My father died in 1980 – leaving nothing but debts, of course – and at that point Beatrice created a trust fund for Oscar. She deposited enough over the years to put him through state university. The documents show that money was disbursed directly to the school.’
Emily looked up at Jamie. ‘Is it possible Oscar got all the way through college not knowing who his benefactor was? Or why she paid his way?’
‘She could have had the university disguise the money as an anonymous scholarship. I’d imagine Oscar had the grades to make that plausible.’
‘I suppose. Yes, that’s the only reasonable explanation.’
Jamie had departed, leaving Emily to process this incredible news as best she could. But she had felt too exhausted at that moment to do anything other than sleep. Only slightly more exhausted than she felt right now.
But she still had duties to perform before she could rest. She knew the group in the library would be buzzing with questions and speculations. She went back down to help Luke answer them all.
Devon jumped her the minute she entered the room. ‘Darling, that was absolutely classic Christie! How thrilling! That other murder we had at Halloween was rather a nuisance, but this one – what fun!’ He registered the expression on Emily’s face and sobered immediately. ‘Except, I mean, for the part about you being the target. I hope that whole poison thing wasn’t too horrible for you.’
‘It was the sickest I’ve ever been in my life,’ she said dryly. ‘But it was over quickly, and no permanent harm done.’
‘Well, thank heavens for that!’ he said brightly. ‘And the world won’t be any worse off for the loss of Cruella Crime. Surely you agree with me there.’
‘I certainly do,’ Ian put in. He and Olivia had approached as Devon was talking. ‘In fact, it’s hard to believe her death was unintended when there were so many people who wanted her dead.’
‘She certainly made a lot of people’s lives miserable,’ Emily replied, weighing her words. ‘But she was still a human being created in the image of God. I can never rejoice over anyone’s life being cut off before he or she had a chance to repent.’
Ian snorted. ‘Cruella was beyond repentance, I assure you.’
But Olivia, clinging to his arm, shook her head. ‘No, Ian, I think Emily’s right. It may be possible for a person to be beyond repentance, but I don’t think it’s ever up to another human being to say so. That’s between her and her Maker.’
Emily said a silent prayer for Cruella’s soul, chiding herself for not having done so earlier. ‘I hope, though, that you two will not allow the circumstances of her death to prevent you from taking full advantage of her absence.’
Ian and Olivia exchanged a smile that blocked out the entire world around them. ‘Absolutely not,’ Ian said. ‘In fact, we’ve decided to get married.’
Emily clapped her hands together. ‘Oh, that’s wonderful! I do hope you’ll invite me.’
‘We’ll do better than that,’ said Olivia. ‘We wanted to ask you if we could have the wedding here. We don’t want a lot of fuss, and neither of us has any family to invite. You and Luke could be our witnesses, if you would.’
‘I’d be honored. On both counts. When were you thinking?’
‘Well …’ Olivia blushed. ‘Since we don’t want a lot of fuss, and we’ve waited so long, we were thinking pretty much right away. As soon as we can get a license, that is.’
‘Twelfth Night.’ Emily spoke with decision. ‘I was planning a party then anyway – we can make it a wedding reception instead.’ Luke passed nearby, and she grabbed his arm and pulled him over. ‘Luke, Ian and Olivia wan
t to get married. Here. As soon as possible. Can they get a license by the fifth of January?’
‘I don’t see why not,’ he said and pumped Ian’s hand. ‘Congratulations. Glad to see some good come out of all this.’
‘Thank you,’ said Ian. ‘And we’d like you and Emily to be our witnesses.’
Luke smiled at Emily. ‘How could I refuse?’
Emily read in Luke’s eyes that he saw them witnessing another couple’s wedding as one step away from having one of their own. Well, she’d deal with those consequences when they arose.
‘I think this calls for champagne,’ she said. ‘Are you ready to announce it to everyone?’
Ian hesitated. ‘You don’t think Dustin will take it as an invitation, do you? We’d love to have everyone else attend, but I don’t think I can afford enough liquor to keep him happy.’
‘Don’t you worry about that,’ Luke said. ‘I happen to know he’s antsy to be gone. Fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if he took off the minute I hand him back his car keys – which I will do right now. Before he has a chance to fill up on champagne.’
Luke suited the action to the word, and Dustin did indeed stalk out of the room immediately. Five minutes later they heard him clattering his bags down the hall and out the front door.
Emily whispered in Katie’s ear, and her face brightened. ‘I’m on it.’ She flew toward the kitchen, grabbing Jamie on the way.
As they waited, Olivia said shyly to Emily, ‘Ian has started writing again.’
Emily turned wide-eyed to Ian, who blushed and smiled. ‘But that’s marvelous! Perhaps Windy Corner does have some creative magic after all. I was beginning to think it was only conducive to murder.’
‘It’s a bit early to conclude the muse is back to stay,’ said Ian, ‘but it feels good to put words on paper again. And I do have Windy Corner – and Olivia – to thank for that.’ He beamed at his fiancée.
Katie appeared in the doorway, and Ian put on his best public-speaking voice. ‘Friends, may I have your attention, please?’
The buzz of conversation stilled as all eyes turned toward him.
‘It is my very great pleasure to announce that this lovely lady’ – he encircled Olivia in his arm – ‘has agreed to become my wife.’ After the first murmur of congratulations died down, he went on, ‘We’re going to be married here at Windy Corner on the fifth of January, and you are all invited.’
Katie and Jamie entered with trays of brimming champagne flutes, which they passed around. Luke lifted his flute high. ‘To the happy couple!’
Glasses clinked, and bubbles slid down joyful throats. Emily felt suddenly overwhelmed and groped behind her for a chair. From being hospitalized for poisoning, to discovering her long-lost half-brother, to witnessing the moral disintegration of a murderer, to celebrating her friends’ engagement was quite a journey for just a few days.
Marguerite crossed the room to sit beside her. ‘You look done in, ma petite,’ she said. ‘All this is too much for a convalescent. Let me help you up to bed.’
Emily nodded faintly. ‘Thanks, Margot. I think I’ll sleep like the de— like a baby tonight.’
The next morning, Katie had a pow wow with Olivia about the wedding arrangements, but Emily’s first priority was Oscar. She volunteered to take up his breakfast tray in order to have an excuse to talk with him.
He sat up in bed when she came in, groggy but calm. At the sight of the tray, which Katie had made festive with a sprig of holly tucked into the red napkin, he brightened.
‘How are you this morning?’ Emily asked, pulling the desk chair up next to the bed.
‘I think I’ll live,’ he said. He added cream and sugar to his coffee, took a sip, and sighed in satisfaction. He shot her a sidelong glance and added in a tentative voice, ‘Sis.’
Emily’s feelings had settled overnight, and she was able now to separate her bitterness over her father’s actions and her horror at what Wanda had done from the simple, unexpectedly joyous fact that this young man she was already so fond of was actually her next of kin.
She beamed at him and squeezed his free hand. ‘Oscar, I’m so terribly sorry about your mother and everything that’s happened, but I am more thrilled than I can say to have you for a brother. I’ve been orphaned for decades, and completely without family since Aunt Beatrice died. It feels like Christmas ten thousand times over to suddenly have a brother – and one that I like as much as I like you. Love, in fact, now that I know.’
He smiled back. ‘I feel the same. I just wish …’ He paused, not meeting her eyes.
‘Wish what?’
‘I wish our father had been – well, someone to be proud of. On some level. Of course, knowing he’d abandoned us, I didn’t expect much, but – well, you know how kids will fantasize. I used to imagine he had some terribly important and glamorous job that meant he couldn’t be with us. A spy or something. Or that he had died some heroic death and Mother didn’t want to grieve me by telling me. Though knowing I had a dead father would have been better than knowing nothing at all.’
Emily’s heart constricted. ‘I’m sorry about that too. Father did have some good qualities – he was brilliant, funny, charming when he wanted to be. It was mostly the alcohol that made him what he was in the end. But I have to admit that even without the drinking I don’t think he would ever have been the most reliable of men.’
‘I wonder what they saw in each other,’ Oscar mused. ‘My parents, I mean. Gosh, I’ve never been able to use that phrase before – my parents.’
‘I imagine your mother was attractive back then. Father could never resist a pretty face, and very few women could resist his charm. It needn’t have gone any deeper than that.’
‘I suppose.’ He took a bite of omelet. ‘I do remember Mother being pretty when I was young. I guess all boys think their mothers are beautiful, though. Like we think our fathers are heroes – despite all evidence to the contrary.’
His eyes grew misty, and Emily squeezed his hand again. ‘Whatever their failings, you seem to have gotten the best of both of them.’ That was the tactful thing to say, though she couldn’t offhand see anything Oscar had inherited from his mother. He had something of their father’s looks, his literary talent, and a shadow of his charm, but Oscar’s gentle and honorable character seemed a complete fluke in terms of the family history. It must be a throwback to their grandparents.
‘What will happen to Mother?’ he asked in a tiny voice.
Emily spoke as gently as she could. ‘I can’t say for certain, of course, but it does seem likely she’ll be convicted of first-degree murder for Cruella and attempted murder for me. Though she may be ruled of unsound mind, given her final outburst.’
Oscar’s tears flowed freely now. ‘I think – it’s possible – she may have murdered before.’ He rattled his coffee cup into its saucer. ‘I’ve lived with this suspicion for years. When my stepfather died – well, it was kind of fishy. And she’d been talking about getting rid of him for quite a while. I thought she meant she’d divorce him, but when he died so suddenly – I couldn’t help but wonder if she’d poisoned him. She knows a lot about poisons – she could have done it so no one would know.’
‘Did she know you suspected her?’
‘I never said anything. To her or to anyone. But that’s why I got so freaked out when Cruella was poisoned. I’d seen Mother lurking around the bar shelf. But I had no idea why she’d want to kill either Cruella or you.’
He looked sideways at her for the first time in this confession. ‘So now you know the worst of me. I covered for my murdering mother.’
Emily put aside her own feelings toward Wanda and tried to see her through her son’s eyes. ‘If that’s the worst of you, I won’t worry. Of course you felt you had to protect your mother. Legally you were in the wrong, but morally I don’t think many people would fault you for that. Especially since you only suspected – you didn’t really know.’
‘No. But if I’d spoken – maybe I
could have stopped her second attempt on you.’
‘Don’t you worry about that. It came to nothing – well, not much, anyway.’ She shuddered. ‘Thank God that honey had such a bitter taste. That’s what saved me, really. I guess Wanda couldn’t have known that – she’d never have dared to test the stuff. So in a sense she foiled her own plan.’
Oscar nodded. ‘Listen, Emily, about that plan – you do believe I knew nothing about it? Would never have cooperated if I’d known?’
‘Of course I believe that. No one who knows you at all would ever suspect you of such a thing.’
‘Luke did.’
‘Well, yes, but it’s his job to suspect everybody. And he was jealous, too. He thought I was getting a little too fond of you.’
Oscar’s eyes widened. ‘Oh! goodness!’ He hesitated, then added, ‘And were you?’
‘Not the way he thought. It’s funny, but I think something in me always knew we were related. My fondness for you felt – well, familial, right from the start.’
She beamed at him. ‘Oscar, I have to say it again – I am thrilled to pieces to have you for a brother. And I really do want to share the inheritance with you. In fact, I insist.’
He recoiled. ‘Oh, no. I could never accept any financial help from you. Not after all that’s happened. It would feel – well, like I was profiting from my mother’s crime.’
‘Nonsense. All she did was create a situation where the relationship could come into the open – something she could easily have done years ago without killing anyone or plotting to get my fortune. Please, Oscar. I really want to share.’
He shook his head with more firmness than she’d ever seen in him. ‘No. Not one penny. And that is my final word.’
Not one penny, eh? Well, then, she’d have to find a way to give him something that wasn’t cash.
TWENTY-SIX
Emily made her way slowly downstairs, having arranged with Oscar to show him the old photographs of the family once he was up and dressed. In the meantime, she had a plot to hatch.
Cyanide with Christie Page 22