by Lily Ashton
“It does. But it’s the painting I wanted to see.” Alice was looking up at the piece above the fire, and a very large smile spread across her face. She pulled her fingers into a fist and pumped the air. “That, if I’m not mistaken, is the Margaret Thomas painting I found in the abandoned pile in the attic.”
“It is. The painting Gina hung there was awful, frankly. I couldn’t let it stay. Then I remembered I had this lovely piece. Tom hated it, so we never hung it. As I thought I wouldn’t find the right spot for it I was going to give it away. Thank goodness you rescued it.”
“It’s a great choice for that space and this room.” Alice snapped a photo of the painting on her phone. “I thought you’d dumped it because Simon Newgate gave it to you.”
Eleanor’s cheeks flushed. “I was wrong about Simon on so many levels. I jumped to the conclusion that he was fiddling money from the agency, when actually he was just protecting Nick. When I thought about it, I realised that Simon had always looked out for Nick. Why I ever thought anything else, I really don’t know.”
Alice remembered the Jamaican invoices that Harry had mentioned. He too thought that Simon was on the take. Did Harry realise that the whole episode was not about Nick fiddling his own company, but Nick covering up for Cheryl? She asked Eleanor.
“Cheryl pestered Nick into lending her money for her failing business. As Nick was at work at the time, he had used the company’s account to transfer funds to Cheryl. The auditors were due in the next day, so Simon had knocked up a fake invoice to cover the missing money and the gap in the bank account. He had put everything back to normal once the accountants left.”
“So how come you didn’t know that at the time. I thought Nick had told you?”
“He did tell me. But I was bathing Wilson at the time and only half-listening. I wrongly believed that Simon had tried to hoodwink Nick.”
The conservatory, with its comfy seats, round white metal tables and profusion of plants, was the loveliest of the downstairs rooms. Vibrant yet relaxing, airy yet warming. The morning mist brushed the lake’s surface and crept over the fields, but it would lift by lunchtime. Alice imagined herself spending the afternoon watching ducks and squirrels scurrying about their business, perhaps joined by a muntjac deer.
“I want to show you the trees we planted.” Eleanor led Alice around to the side of the house. “Back in the day, this used to be a proper kitchen garden. Chef’s going to build it up again, so we’ll eventually produce all our own vegetables and herbs.”
The beds looked empty, most of the activity beneath the soil at this time of year. On the far side ripened apples, like rubies, glowed amongst the leaves.
“Here.” Eleanor pointed at four saplings, encased in light mesh, at the east edge of the garden. “They’re cherry trees, Nick’s favourite. They were his favourite fruit and he loved the blossom.” Eleanor leant close to Alice and whispered, “Nick’s buried underneath, but don’t tell anyone. He would have wanted to stay at the Hall.”
Alice brushed down her new green dress as she took Joe’s hand at the bottom of the staircase. They headed for the bar. Joe reached for his wallet and took out a note.
“Lucky I keep an emergency cash supply in the kitchen, the bank’s cash machine was broken.”
In the nick of time! Alice had remembered to replace the money she’d secretly borrowed from Joe’s emergency supply, just the day before. Alice winked at him. “Lucky for you, Eleanor said the weekend was on her. And that’s on top of my fee. So she came seriously good in the end.”
Christian and Devi were in the library. Christian, hair quiffed, clothes styled and a smile as glowing as the fire behind him, hugged his sister.
“The hotel is incredible! We’ve inspected every room and I love everything about it.” He put an arm around Alice’s shoulder. “But the artworks, Ally, are awesome. You’ve picked some great pieces and displayed them beautifully. You must be delighted with what you’ve done here.”
“I am. And despite all the difficulties, this job has been the most rewarding I’ve had.”
Devi kissed Alice on both cheeks. “And what difficulties they were. Dear Nick and Jeremy, victims of a pair of horrible people.”
“The Trevelyans were truly the neighbours from hell,” said Alice. “While I can’t forgive Bill Trevelyan for what he did, I can at least understand that he was protecting his wife. If Miriam Gonzalez’s body had been found, Elsa would have been convicted of her murder. But Wilfred Carberry? He covered the whole thing up for a piece of land. Unbelievable.”
Joe brought over a tray of cut crystal glasses, each with a measure of amber, which he put down on a round, leather-topped table by the fire. “Jeff gave me these. It’s a special sixteen-year-old Irish malt that George Carberry bought in nineteen eighty-one. It should be mature by now.”
Christian handed the glasses around, an apple juice for Devi. “Alice, you didn’t tell us about the drinks collection. I’ve seen the wine list, which is fantastic, and they all come from the Hall’s own cellar.”
“I didn’t know there was a basement, so I’ve never been in it. Thank goodness, as who knows what other secrets are lurking down there.”
“Renton Hall’s secrets are now uncovered. I’m sure there aren’t any more,” said Joe.
“Well, the Trevelyans are spending their nights at Her Majesty’s pleasure,” said Alice. “I’m so pleased that with Bill’s conviction for Nick and Jeremy’s murders, Eleanor got the quick resolution she wanted. And Nathan Salisbury managed to get in touch with Miriam’s family. They’re taking her remains to Mexico, so they can lay her to rest in her home town.”
“I’m glad that Miriam will be back with her family.” Devi took Alice’s hand. “And I’m so happy that you invited Christian to share this evening with you. Families are important.”
Alice looked into the flames. When her father disappeared one day, never to be heard from again, she had wondered why people made such a fuss about families. Fathers abandoned their children, husbands have affairs, grandfathers lie. What was there to cherish? But in the last few weeks, when she and Christian had quarrelled, the invisible cord that held the two of them together tugged at her heart. She knew that she never wanted to lose her brother again.
She felt a squeeze at her elbow. Joe was frowning. “Are you okay?”
“I’m very okay and I’m so pleased that we are all here together tonight. I want to make a toast.” Alice held up her glass. “To you. Christian, Joe and Devi. To my family.”
“To families.” The four clinked their glasses.
Alice turned to the Margaret Thomas painting above the fireplace. “And to getting one over on Gina Salvini!”
If you enjoyed Sculpt a Murder, please consider writing a review and let other cozy mystery fans know what you thought. Review on Amazon at: www.amazon.co.uk
Alice Haydon’s adventures will continue in the third book of the Alice Haydon Mystery series, available in early 2020.
Follow Lily Ashton at www.lilyashton.com
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