Also puzzling was the question that if the goblets were used by Trinity or Harold to perpetrate murder, why would the set be under Reginald’s bed? Had Harold or Trinity poisoned Archie then tried to pawn the deed off on Reggie?
Thinking Reggie might well have the murder weapon stashed in his room, she reached back underneath the bed and pulled out the rest of the set then frowned. There were only five goblets. Where was the sixth?
“Araminta?” Daisy called from the upstairs foyer. “Araminta, darling, could I trouble you to help me with something? I have to go out to the funeral parlor to approve a few things, but I cannot manage on my own to do up this silly little clasp.”
For a moment, Araminta said nothing. How was she to explain being in Reginald’s room? The cats! Her fur babies often got up to a bit of mischief, since they were allowed to roam the house at will, but rarely did they go into other members of the family’s rooms.
“There you go now, darlings. Out with you. Shoo!” she said loudly, making a big show of pushing them out into the hall and closing the door. She turned to see Daisy standing in the hall and gestured toward the cats. “They’re so mischievous… always getting into rooms they shouldn’t.”
Daisy didn’t seem to notice or care that they’d been in Reginald’s private quarters.
She merely smiled then presented her back to Araminta so that she could help her with the diamond-and-pearl necklace she was holding close to her bosom. “Archie usually handles these trivial little things for me, but…” Her voice caught.
Araminta knew how difficult it was for her to say that Archie was dead.
“Don’t give it another thought, Daisy. I’m here and happy to help.”
“Thank you.” Daisy sighed. “There’s so much to do, and I do appreciate your support. Stephanie is coming today, then tomorrow we’ll read the will and all go to the funeral parlor together afterward. Archie’s wishes were to be cremated with a very small family service right after then a memorial at a later date. He always said he wanted to give me some time to grieve before I had to face the onslaught of Moorecliff relatives. He was always so thoughtful.”
“That sounds lovely.”
Araminta fixed the clasp, and Daisy turned to face her. “I was hoping you would come to the lawyers with us. As much as I hoped Archie’s children and I could be one big happy family, I don’t think they like me very much, and I could use your support.”
Araminta felt a stab of pity. “Of course I’ll be there.”
Chapter Eight
After helping Daisy prepare herself for an early visit to the funeral parlor, Araminta waited until the staff were busy with their duties in other parts of the manor before she hurried to the antique china cabinet in the dining room, where the dinner glasses were usually kept.
Araminta had to admit she felt a certain unease entering the room where Archie had died. Sure, everything had been put back as it usually was—the chairs straightened and the tablecloth cleaned and put back perfectly—but it still made her heart beat faster just to go in there. Of course, the rapid heartbeat might have been because she didn’t want the killer to find her sneaking around and guess that she was investigating on her own.
Arun and Sasha must have had the same idea, because they trotted on ahead of her and sat patiently at her feet while she made her way to the china cabinet in the corner of the room.
Behind the cut-glass doors was the set they’d used the night of Archie’s death. Like the goblets in Reggie’s room, these were large and gold with gems around the rim. Perhaps it was a set for twelve. The goblets were very old, and the family had a much larger gathering around the dinner table in days gone by.
It might make sense to keep the others in a different cabinet. They had several sets of goblets, glassware, and plates kept in various spots. But it certainly did not make sense to keep them under Reggie’s bed.
At her feet, Arun let out a loud meow. Sasha pawed at her feet.
“Shush, now. We don’t want anyone to hear us.” Araminta watched the cats strut around, their tails held high. They were trying to tell her something.
She pressed her lips together and looked at the glasses. But wait. One of them was not an exact match. It was similar, but the gems were oval instead of circular and a tad larger. Was it the missing goblet from the set Reggie had? How odd. Trinity claimed to pride herself in her attention to detail. Why did she never notice? And when did the mismatch happen?
Araminta made a mental note to speak to Trinity again after her chat with Reggie. It was starting to look like Trinity had something to hide. Was she in collusion with someone? Harold?
But if the phone call was a ruse, why had Trinity told her to verify it with Reggie? Was Reggie in on it too? Was that why he had the goblets in his room?
Looking around the opulent dining room, Araminta searched the open shelves and glass-fronted cabinets but didn’t find another set of similar goblets. Were these the exact ones used at dinner?
Trinity had said all the dishes from dinner had been washed and put away after the meal, but who had put them away? Perhaps Trinity had been too upset over the death to notice they didn’t match.
Things just weren’t adding up, and once again, she had more questions than answers. She definitely needed to have a chat with Trinity.
But first, she needed to speak with Reginald about the phone call that wasn’t.
Reginald Moorecliff was at his wit’s end. He didn’t know what to do. He’d tried to get the money he needed, but he’d still come up short. He was going to suffer for it, he knew, and there was still the matter of his father’s funeral to deal with. And with his sister coming back this afternoon, it was all bad timing.
He thought about his situation and scrubbed his face and hair with his hands. His father would have been so disappointed in him, and what would it do to Daisy? He had to admit that he was reluctantly growing fond of her. At first, he hadn’t liked her at all. He and Stephanie had seen right through her intentions. Or so he thought. But after a while, he’d seen how she doted on his father, how she didn’t spend money excessively, and how she had a generous streak and was kind to everyone, even treating the servants as if they were members of the family. He had to admit that he might have been wrong about her. Convincing his sister about that, though, was another story.
He couldn’t tell Daisy about his predicament. No, he couldn’t tell anyone. He would just have to continue what he’d been doing. He had a couple of days left to come up with the money. If he couldn’t, he would speak to his stepmother then and explain everything.
But for now, he needed to do what he had to do to survive. That was his excuse for slipping into the dressing room of the suite that his father and Daisy—now just Daisy, he realized with a pang of sadness—slept.
A twinge of guilt hit him as he carefully swung open the doors of her jewelry armoire. He would take only a few of the lesser pieces. The ones he knew held sentimental value were the ones he definitely wouldn’t touch.
He dug deep into the box and lifted a necklace of onyx and ruby. It looked about a hundred years old. He tried to recall whether he’d ever seen her wear it. He didn’t think he had. Surely it was worth more than a few goblets encrusted with gems and gold. Would she even miss it? After a quick glance over his shoulder, he tucked it carefully into his coat pocket.
He hurried across the room then opened the door and slipped outside. If anyone were to find out what I’ve been doing…
“There you are, Reginald,” his aunt called.
He squeezed his eyes shut and pulled the door closed.
“I’ve been looking all over for you!”
Pasting on a fake but genial smile, he turned to his aunt. “Aunt Minta! You’re looking lovely today. Is that a new shade of neon you’re wearing? The color looks positively smashing on you.”
Araminta’s expression remained bland, though the sparkle in her eyes told him his praise of her fashion sense gave her a twinge of satisfaction. “Thank
you, sweetheart. You’re the only one who noticed. But come. I have a few questions for you.”
Reggie followed along slowly, his footsteps weighted with dread, as she led the way to his quarters on the second floor then waited outside his room. At least she hadn’t questioned what he had been doing in Daisy’s room.
“Maybe we should chat inside.” She nodded toward his door. Maybe she did have questions about where he’d just been. He decided to play dumb, until she said, “I’ve noticed you’ve become quite a collector of things, and I thought you might want to keep the why between the two of us.”
He still said nothing, mostly because he was finding it rather difficult to breathe at the moment, as the knowledge that he’d been caught out with no recourse but to tell the truth sank in.
She arched an eyebrow and snapped, “Or I could phone to ask Detective Hershey to stop by with a few of his police department friends, if that’s what you’d prefer.”
Reggie’s jaw dropped, and he closed his eyes as he blew out a breath in defeat. “We should talk inside, if you please, Aunt Araminta. I would ask most respectfully if you would please keep your voice down too. But first, I want you to know I’m sorry. I just didn’t know what else to do.”
Pushing open the door, his aunt pointed at the five gold-encased, jewel-encrusted goblets now lying on his bed. “You can start by explaining why those specifically are here and what you’ve done with the other one.”
Reginald stepped around her and into the room. Knowing he had no other choice, he nodded and gestured toward the goblets he had stolen. “I took them because I needed the money they would bring, but I couldn’t make the sale because there were only five. Apparently, the full set contained six of these lovely beauts. But where the sixth one that completes the set might be?” He spread his hands wide, shrugged, then shook his head. “I honestly haven’t a clue.”
Chapter Nine
“So, you’ve been the one taking vases, teapots, and bronzes from the manor? If you needed money, why not go to your father?” Araminta asked.
Reginald cast his gaze to the floor. “I didn’t want Father to know I have a problem with gambling. Can you imagine what he would have thought of smearing such a blight upon our family tree?”
Araminta had to concede the point to him on that. Archibald would have been devastated. “But he would have done what he could to help. Daisy too.”
Reggie shook his head. “Not with this, Aunt Minta. It’s been going on too long, and I’m afraid I’m in too deep. These people to whom I owe money… they aren’t the banker or investor-in-a-three-piece-suit type.”
Araminta’s eyes widened. “Loan sharks?”
He nodded. “I didn’t figure the family would miss a few knickknacks,” he said, waving toward the goblets. “The house is full of them. So… while the family may not miss a couple of ancient doodads, I will surely miss the use of my legs when word of my default gets round to Tony ‘The Fist’ Romano.”
Araminta looked at the goblets. “That’s what you were planning to do with these? Sell them?”
Reggie crossed his arms over his chest, leaned against the door, and nodded. “But Jed down at the pawn shop wouldn’t take them. He said there should be a set of six. No one wants to buy just five goblets. But when I swiped them from the butler’s pantry, there were only five. It’s just glasses. How was I to know one was missing?”
Araminta knew the sixth was sitting on the shelf in the china cabinet downstairs in the dining room, but she didn’t mention the goblets again. It would be easy enough to put in a call to Jed to confirm Reggie’s story. “There is one other thing. You were in the butler’s pantry last night when Trinity was called away before serving. Do you know why she was?”
“Yes. She had a phone call. Harold told her there was a call for her upstairs. Neither of them realized I was there, but I heard everything.”
“Did he say who the call was from?”
Reggie considered the question. “I don’t recall that he did. He just informed her she had a call and offered to do the serving for her.” Reggie eyed his aunt skeptically. “Why all the questions, Auntie? I mean, I understand I’ve been caught stealing red-handed, but there must have been a reason you were here in my room besides just checking up on me.”
Then his eyes grew wide. “Goblets. The poison! You thought I put the poison in the goblet, didn’t you?”
Araminta stubbornly held her silence, and Reginald shook his head. “Why would I kill Father? For the money, right? But you must know I don’t inherit anything yet. Stephanie and I will have trusts, of course, but neither of us inherit right away. It’s in Father’s will. He made sure of it.”
When Araminta continued to remain silent, Reggie continued, “Yes, Father assured his children were provided for in the future. But right now? Maybe you should have a chat with our dear sweet beloved new stepmom, Aunt Minta. She’s the one who gets everything.”
In her room again, Araminta went over everything Reginald had said. She even called Jed’s Pawn Shop in town to confirm that what he’d said about trying to sell the goblets was true. It was. Apparently he had been successful in selling several other Moorecliff treasures, though. Araminta would have to get them back, but she had more pressing matters right now. She was back at square one… with lots more questions and still no answers. Would she ever figure out who killed her nephew?
She thought of Jacob Hershey, Ivan’s grandfather, and sighed. Back in the day, this was where she would have gone downtown for a visit to needle him about how poorly he conducted his job because he’d missed a clue or two.
A wistful smile ghosted her lips as she recalled how those visits always got his dander up, but he’d also always kicked his investigations into high gear afterward. Only she couldn’t call Jacob now because he was no longer active on the force. No, there was only the grandson these days, and she wasn’t sure he would be able to piece together the clues as Jacob could. Which made her even more certain that it was up to her to find the killer.
Besides, she thought, the facts were all already there. Archie was poisoned. Someone had killed him with a convallatoxin cocktail. All she had to do was figure out who.
Araminta went to the window and looked out over the garden, where the lily of the valley was still in bloom. Daisy had been there the night before Archie’s murder—with a man. Yes, Araminta was certain of this, although Daisy had lied and said it wasn’t true. And Reggie was right about Daisy having motive. Daisy had told her so herself. Archie’s will would leave her everything.
But of course, Daisy already benefitted from all of Archie’s money, so the only reason to kill him would be to get him out of the way. Had Daisy killed her husband so that she could be with the mysterious man she’d met in the garden?
If Daisy was Archibald’s killer, how had she administered the poison? How could she have gotten it into his drink or his food? She’d already been seated next to Archie when the food came up.
Seated next to Archie. The purse! Araminta had never understood why Daisy felt she needed those things inside the house, but she’d developed a habit of having one with her wherever she was. A purse was a perfect place to hide things. If she had secreted a vial of the convallatoxin inside her purse, could she have slipped it into his food or wine when nobody was looking?
It would have been risky, but maybe if she was clever. Come to think of it, her new outfit did have long flowing sleeves that could have hidden any sleight of hand.
But Daisy seemed to be truly in love with Archie. Araminta couldn’t imagine her killing him and especially in such an awful manner. Which brought everything back to Harold and Trinity. But what motive would either of them have?
A glance at the clock reminded her it was time for lunch, but with a murderer still afoot and given the circumstances, she wasn’t sure she was ready for food.
Chapter Ten
Araminta couldn’t help but notice as she descended the stairs, her hand gliding along the smooth, familiar wo
od of the handrail, that the rest of the family must be having similar concerns about eating in the dining room. It was only yesterday that dear Archibald had died in there, after all. But since then, rather than going into the room to be seated and converse while they waited for food, everyone had gathered in the front parlor, which was exactly where they all were now.
Even Bernard was there, Araminta noticed, but as busy as ever. He was on his cell phone, chatting with the West Coast office. Both Reginald and Bernard stood up to greet her as she walked into the room.
Before she could acknowledge the greeting, however, the front doorbell pealed. She turned to search for Harold. Daisy found him first and hurried over to let him know he should answer the door.
“Steph! Oh, Stephanie, I am so glad to see you,” Reginald called in surprise the minute their newly arrived guest stepped through the front door. “I wasn’t aware you were coming so early, sister, but I’m so glad you are here. Don’t read too much into this or take it as sibling affection or anything, but I think I may actually have missed you.”
Stephanie Moorecliff was in her mid-twenties and an attractive girl, tall and slim with honey-blond hair and hazel eyes. She had a regal air about her that reminded Araminta of herself at that age. She handed the parcels she’d been carrying to Harold and rushed into the room, her arms outstretched to receive a hug of greeting and a bit of consolation from her brother.
“Oh, Reggie, how horrible! How could this happen? I’ve been overwrought since the moment I got the news.”
Dead In The Dining Room (A Moorecliff Manor Cat Cozy Mystery Book 1) Page 4