Dead In The Dining Room (A Moorecliff Manor Cat Cozy Mystery Book 1)

by Leighann Dobbs

  “Given that the toxin takes effect within twenty minutes of being administered, we have concluded it must have been in the food,” Hershey continued. “Has anyone else in the household complained of malaise? Anyone else who ingested it would certainly have become ill.”

  “Someone is sick?” Reginald asked as he stepped into the room. He looked as if he’d slept rather badly, if at all.

  He was followed into the room by his uncle Bernard, who drew up at the sight of the inspector. “Oh dear. Someone else has fallen ill? Daisy? Is it you?”

  From her still-slumped position in the chair, Daisy gave a weak shake of her head.

  Bernard turned his bloodshot eyes on the inspector. “Inspector, I insist that you tell us what’s going on.”

  Araminta didn’t give the inspector a chance. “Archibald was murdered. Convallatoxin. Someone must have slipped the poison into his food.”

  “Mary is the cook,” Bernard volunteered. “But she doted on Archie and would have no reason to wish him ill at all. Are you perfectly certain, Inspector?”

  Ivan nodded grimly. “We’re certain he was poisoned but not certain the poison was meant for him.”

  “Oh.” Araminta frowned. She hadn’t considered that. But the fact that no one else was ill indicated that the killer knew exactly who they were giving the poison to, unless they had made a terrible mistake.

  Hershey continued, “Who served the meal?”

  “It was Harold, the butler,” Reginald said, and the inspector turned to him with an inquisitive look.

  “Is that normal, then? Your butler also serving dinner?”

  “No, actually,” Daisy said finally. “Our maid, Trinity, does it. She’s the one who normally serves at the table.”

  “May I speak with the maid, please?” Hershey asked.

  “Of course,” Bernard told him. “I shall fetch her myself.”

  He disappeared for a moment then came back into the parlor with Trinity in tow. “The inspector has a few questions.”

  “Yes. They tell me you are responsible for serving at the dinner table, yet last night the butler, Harold, obliged. Can you explain why there was a deviation?”

  Trinity nodded. “Harold said I had a call upstairs. He knew the family was ready to eat, so he offered to serve for me, until my call was done.”

  Hershey wrote down her statement. “And who was it? Who called?”

  Araminta noticed she looked confused. “Well… no one, actually. By the time I got up to the land line that was installed years ago for the servants to use—it’s way up in the second-floor hallway, you know—they must have hung up, because when I answered, there was no one on the line.” She shrugged. “I hung it up and came back downstairs.”

  There was a call for Trinity, but then no one was there when she answered it? Odd, Araminta thought. Unless that wasn’t what actually happened. She studied the maid, looking for anything that would hint at her words being untrue, because something just didn’t ring right with them.

  Or maybe Harold had lied about the call. That would explain the line being dead when Trinity tried to answer.

  But why, Araminta wondered, would either of the staff want Archie dead? “What about the food?” Inspector Hershey asked. “Was anything specially prepared only for Archibald? Something not consumed by anyone else?”

  “No,” Trinity told him. “It was a celebratory dinner. Everyone ate the same food, and Mr. Moorecliff didn’t have any special requests.”

  Ivan turned to Araminta. “We will need to have a look at the service used for dinner last night.”

  Araminta nodded, but Trinity spoke up. “I don’t see how it would do any good, sir, as the service is always washed immediately after dinner. We take our duties quite seriously here, and despite the terrible event last night, we were sure to thoroughly clean each and every dish.”

  Chapter Six

  After the inspector left, Araminta went to Archibald’s study. It was the only room in the house with a computer.

  “More questions than answers,” she said, though the room was empty of all but the cats.

  Arun jumped up on the desk, walked over the keyboard, then settled in front of the monitor. Sasha chose her mistress’s lap. It was much comfier, and there, Araminta would pet her.

  Araminta carefully lifted Arun and moved him to one side then opened a tab in the browser. Into the search bar, she typed one letter at a time: C-O-N-V-A-L-L-A-T-O-X-I-N.

  “Well, would you look at that? It’s a poison that can be found in lily of the valley! You wanted me to go into the garden last night, and that was what you were trying to show me!” She cupped Arun’s face as she talked, her tone apologetic.

  Arun’s answering meow indicated he would have rolled his eyes at her if he could.

  Reading aloud a few more lines, she read that the toxin could also be found in the water in vases containing the flowers. She glanced nervously at the cats.

  “Hopefully you two won’t eat those flowers or drink from the vases that have them.”

  The cats blinked as if to let her know they weren’t that stupid. Of course they weren’t—they’d steered clear of the actual lily of the valley plants when they’d led her to the tree.

  Thinking back, she remembered that while picking weeds from the garden last night, some of the white flowers had been missing—then she remembered Harold in the hallway earlier. Was there any lily of the valley in the arrangement Harold was perfecting this morning?

  “No, I don’t recall seeing whites in there,” she said. Pressing her lips together, she drummed her fingers on the edge of the desk as she considered all the possibilities. “Very interesting.”

  Araminta closed the tab then rose from the desk and looked around the study. Maybe someone had chopped up the lily of the valley and put it in Archie’s food, or perhaps they had used water from a vase or glass that held the flowers and mixed it into his food. They’d had beef and mashed potatoes. Had the mashed potatoes on Archie’s plate contained a fatal dose of the toxin? It couldn’t have been in the gravy, since that was placed on the table for everyone to use. Araminta tried to think back but couldn’t recall how much of the potatoes Archie had eaten.

  “If they used a vase, maybe we can find it somewhere in the house. Looks like it’s up to us to figure out where it’s been hidden.”

  The cats padded alongside her as Araminta visited many of the rooms in the manor, looking for a vase that contained the small white flowers. Hours later, Araminta felt defeated. The vase was nowhere to be found. But what they did find was curious as well.

  In every room, whether cupboard, bookshelf, or mantel, there were clean, empty circles in the fine layer of dust, marking where something no longer sat but where several costly antique vases and other items that had been in the family for centuries were usually displayed.

  “The Remington bronze, Great-Aunt Agatha’s silver creamer set, the Limoges vase mother bought in Paris. All of them are missing,” Araminta told the cats. There were several more items missing, too, all of them quite valuable. Not that it mattered. What was significant here was that there were too many things missing. “Now, where are all these missing items, and what do they have to do with Archie’s murder?”

  Meow! Sasha looked at Araminta and twitched her tail.

  Araminta gave her her full attention. “What have you found?”

  A short hair was right in the dust-free spot where the sterling-silver vase rumored to have been made by Paul Revere used to sit. Yech. Could it be a clue, or was the cat simply alerting Araminta to the fact that Trinity was becoming slack in her duties?

  Araminta knew that the killer had to have been in the dining room at dinner to make sure that Archie got the meal with the poison, so that left Trinity out. Or did it? Had she somehow managed to ensure Archie got the poisoned food without even being there? Certainly her absence from the room would provide her with an alibi of sorts.

  There was only one way to find out. She needed to have a chat wi
th Trinity.

  Araminta found the maid seated at a small round table in the kitchen, cleaning the family’s silver. Her head was bent as she focused on the task. Though she had worked for the Moorecliffs for several years, she was a young woman. Her blond hair and peaches-and-cream complexion gave her a look of innocence. But Araminta knew from previous experience that sometimes those who looked innocent were anything but.

  “I have a question about how the meals are served, if you don’t mind. Are you the one who places the servings on everyone’s plates?”

  “No, that’d be Mary. She’s picky about portions, don’t you know? The meals are put together on the plates then kept warm in the kitchen until everyone is ready to be served. The meals are kept under silver domes and passed out at the table. Unless there is a roast to be carved at the table, that is. The side dishes come up with the food and are placed on the table the same way. I never touch the food.”

  Araminta digested this information. It seemed Mary would have been the only one with access to dose Archie’s dinner, since Trinity hadn’t even brought the tray of food up from the kitchen last night because of the phone call.

  “Do you often get calls around dinnertime?”

  Trinity shook her head. “Only once, but that was years ago, when I was notified of the passing of my aunt Hattie. Usually people just leave me messages on my cell, but we’re not allowed to have those at work. I would never be derelict in my duties, though. When I had to go upstairs last night, Harold offered to serve for me. He’s very nice like that, not wanting any of us to get into trouble.”

  Araminta reflected on what Trinity had said as she studied the silverware Trinity was polishing. One fork sat apart from the rest. “What’s wrong with that one?” She pointed at the lonely fork.

  “It doesn’t match the others, see?” Trinity placed the fork in her hand alongside the one she’d been polishing. The handles were different. One had embossed roses, and the other was plain with a scroll design on the sides. “We have several sets, and I don’t tolerate mismatches. It’s my reputation on the line, you see. Ms. Daisy pays attention to detail. So do I, and she appreciates that. I even heard her saying just that to Mr. Bernard the other day.” She picked up another piece of flatware and started polishing.

  Araminta still had questions about the call. “Last night… the call…”

  Trinity looked a bit annoyed. “If you need to verify it, perhaps you should speak with Reginald. When I rushed upstairs to take it, I saw him skulking about in the butler’s pantry.”

  The butler’s pantry? Now, why in the world would Reginald be in there? Araminta left Trinity to her polishing and headed off to find Reggie.

  Chapter Seven

  Arun skulked along the edge of the hallway toward Reggie’s suite in the east wing.

  “Did you smell that hair? It smelled like hair gel,” Sasha whispered as she followed close behind him.

  “Indeed. The exact hair gel that Reggie uses.”

  “It seems he shed it in the very spot where that fancy silver vase used to be. I don’t think that’s any coincidence.”

  Arun’s tail twitched as he led the way down the hall. “Yes, it was in the circle where the vase had been. Meaning it came after the vase was taken.”

  “Or during,” Sasha said. “That vase has been in that spot ever since we were kittens, so I don’t think it was under there before. Unless someone moved it to clean it.”

  Arun stopped and looked back at her. “Clean it? Are you serious? Did you see all the dust around it? No one gets that picky when cleaning around here.”

  “True. Considering what Araminta found out about the water in vases containing lily of the valley, it does cast suspicion on Reggie. I tried to warn her, but I don’t think she understood the significance of the hair.”

  “She doesn’t have our keen sense of smell, so it’s up to us to follow that lead.” Arun stopped in front of Reggie’s room. The door was cracked open, and he pushed it gently with a velvety paw.

  They both crept in, bodies low to the ground. Reggie wasn’t in the room, but the cats still wanted to be as discreet as possible. They rarely came in here, but it wouldn’t be a huge problem if they were discovered. They roamed freely around the big old house, and who would ever suspect two cats of snooping?

  The room was done in masculine tones of blue. A thick royal-blue-and-gold Aubusson carpet covered the floor. Deep-blue velvet drapes lined the tall windows. The drapes matched one of the colors in the fleur-de-lis-patterned wallpaper, which was in two shades of blue on a white background. The headboard was tall and upholstered in tufted velvet in a luxurious shade of cobalt blue. A matching chair sat in the corner. No wonder Reggie still lived at home, even though he was an adult. It all looked very comfortable, and Arun resisted the urge to rake his claws on the soft fabric of the headboard then curl up for a nap in the chair.

  Despite the wonderful decor, the room was a mess. Arun and Sasha had to refrain from batting around the shoelaces of several pairs of untied shoes that lay here and there and playing hide-and-seek under the piles of clothes.

  Sasha pawed open the closet. “I’ll look in here.”

  Arun trotted to the tall mahogany-paneled door on the east wall. “I’ve got the bathroom!”

  The bathroom was just as messy as the bedroom. The white subway tile was clean, but clothing was strewn about. Toiletries littered the double-sink vanity. At least the bathtub didn’t have dirt and hair—Trinity had cleaned it, no doubt.

  Arun searched behind the toilet, in the laundry basket—which was empty because all the dirty clothes were all over the floor—and in the shower but didn’t find anything of importance.

  “What exactly are we looking for?” Sasha asked when they met again in the bedroom.

  Good question. “Anything suspicious.” Arun eyed the bed. It was unmade, but a human wouldn’t hide anything suspicious in the sheets.

  Sasha hopped from the arm of the chair to the tall bureau. She sat on the marble surface, her dark tail hanging over the side as she leaned over the front edge to look at the drawers. She snaked a paw out through the handle of one and pushed so that the drawer slid open. “It’s going to be hard to get all these drawers open, but if I can push the top one far enough to get inside, we can make our way down each row.”

  “Maybe we should try the easy places first.” Arun pushed the blue velvet bedspread, which was hanging over the edge of the bed, aside and then crawled under. Underneath the bed was not much different from the rest of the room. There were dust bunnies galore, some old magazines, ten mismatched socks, and a bottle of whiskey. Finally, he hit pay dirt.

  “Ahhh. Sash, I think you should check this out.”

  He heard the soft thud of her paws hitting the rug, then she was beside him, her pale eyes growing wide as she looked at what he had found—five gold goblets, just like the ones they’d used for dinner.

  “We’d better get Araminta.”

  Araminta made her way upstairs with more questions than answers. Why was there no one on the phone? How had the poison gotten into Archie’s food? What was Reggie doing in the butler’s pantry?

  Sasha and Arun met her at the top of the stairs. Sasha raced over and pushed her head against Araminta’s leg. Araminta bent to pet the cat, something she was grateful she could still do at her age. Arun strutted around, tail straight in the air.

  “Here now, what is it? Do you want to show me something?”

  Both cats trotted off toward the east wing, and Araminta followed. She’d learned over the years that the cats had an uncanny ability to dig up clues, so it was always a good idea to follow them. They stopped in front of the door to Reggie’s room, their blue eyes blinking up at her expectantly. What a coincidence—Reggie was the very person she’d set off to talk to.

  The door was cracked open, but she didn’t want to just barge in, so she lifted her hand and gave the thick wooden oak a sound knock. Silence. She gave a little push then wrinkled her nose in distast
e.

  Reginald Moorecliff definitely showed signs of being born to privilege—his room was a mess. Poor Trinity, Araminta thought. As the household’s only maid, she would be the one tasked with sorting through Reggie’s room, and she didn’t envy the girl her chore. Maybe she should take up the task of trying to teach Reggie how to pick up after himself. His future wife—if he ever found one—would certainly thank her.

  Araminta stepped farther inside. Upon the costly Aubusson rug, there were discarded items of clothing tossed everywhere. The bed had yet to be made, but she knew Trinity would soon come round and take care of that.

  Meow! Sasha dashed underneath the bed, and Arun followed, their brown tails twitching where they stuck out from the bedclothes.

  “Now what in the world…”

  Arun stuck his head out, his sapphire eyes sparkling with excitement.

  “I see. You want me to look under there.”

  Araminta’s knees popped as she knelt. She raised the bedspread and peered under the bed. It was dark and messy and smelled like dirty socks.

  Sasha was crouched in front of a set of goblets, tail twitching. Araminta pulled one out and gasped. It was a tall goblet. The gold gleamed in the sunlight from the window, and the multicolored gems around the rim sparkled. “Are these the goblets from the dining room?”

  Why would Reggie have them in his room? Unless…

  She’d been working under the assumption that the poison had been in the food, and she couldn’t figure out how the killer had managed it. The food was only handled by Mary, plated and covered, then brought up to the dining room. Usually Trinity served it, but last night it was Harold. The whole scenario made it difficult to work, though, since she couldn’t figure out how the killer would have been able to ensure that the poison was delivered only to Archie.

  But the wine… that had been chilling in the dining room the whole time.

  An image of Harold with the goblets on the tray bubbled up. Harold had served the wine last night. Harold had held the tray, but had Reggie handled the goblets? But then, Trinity was supposed to serve the family originally. Araminta had wondered if Trinity faked the phone call somehow to provide an alibi for herself, but what if it was actually Harold who faked the call because he wanted access to the goblets? It couldn’t have been Harold. He was such a dear, and why would he want to kill Archie?