Murder in Thistlecross

by Amy M. Reade

  “We can sometime,” Griff answered. “But you’re right. We should get back and see what’s going on at the castle. I get the feeling we’re in for a roller coaster of a ride with those three in charge.”

  When we were both on our horses and ready to leave, I took one long backward look at the waterfall and the fairy glen. I could hardly wait to visit again.

  The horses walked a bit faster on the return trip to the stables as if they, too, sensed the need to get back and learn what may have transpired in our absence.

  And there was plenty, as it turned out. I left Penelope in Griff’s care and hurried back to the castle to get an update from Maisie and Brenda. When I opened the huge front door and stood in the front hall listening for any sounds, I heard nothing. Silence prevailed, as it had done earlier.

  I went in search of Maisie and Brenda and didn’t have to look far. They were in the kitchen, talking in strained voices.

  “What’s up?” I asked, walking into the warm, cozy room.

  “You’ll never guess, Eilidh,” Brenda said breathlessly.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Brenda was upstairs dusting the sitting room when the call came in about the autopsy results,” Maisie said.

  “I can tell her. I was the one who heard,” Brenda said, shooting her mum a frustrated look.

  “Okay, you tell her,” Maisie said.

  “Tell me what?” I asked, exasperated.

  “Annabel was poisoned.” Brenda’s words fell like a rock. I sat down in the nearest chair and stared at her.

  “That can’t be right.”

  “It’s true,” she insisted. “Hugh came into the room while I was dusting and he asked me to come back later to finish. I was telling him I was just finishing up when the phone rang. He shooed me out of the room, but I stood in the hallway to listen. He talked to the person on the phone and I heard him say, ‘Yes, I’m Annabel’s son.’ Then he listened for a minute, then he said, ‘You’re kidding. She was poisoned? By what? Who did it?’”

  “Did you get the answers?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “No. I left and came down here to tell Mum right after I heard that. I didn’t want him to know I was listening. He’d sack me for sure if he knew that.”

  “I can’t believe this,” I breathed. “How could she have been poisoned? Who would have done such a thing?” I looked at Maisie. “Do you suppose someone in the castle did this to her?” Which one of her sons, or her daughters-in-law, could have done this?

  “This is all going to come back to me,” Maisie said, her voice rising with anxiety. “People are going to think I put something in the food.” She was breathing heavily and I was afraid she was going to faint. I stood up quickly, took her arm, and led her to the chair I had vacated.

  “Brenda, will you please get her a glass of ice water?” I took the dish towel Maisie was clutching and tossed it over to the counter. “Maisie, look at me,” I directed in a stern voice. “You have to pull yourself together. There’s no reason for anyone to think you poisoned Annabel. The police are going to be looking at every possibility, and there are lots of ways Annabel could have been poisoned.”

  “Name one,” she said.

  I thought for a moment. The truth was, if Annabel had really been poisoned, it certainly seemed plausible that the poison was administered in her food. That would put Maisie in the crosshairs of the police investigation even if we all knew neither Maisie nor Brenda would ever have done such a thing. If the poison had been administered in Annabel’s food, then either Hugh, Cadi, Sian, or Rhisiart could have done it. Even I would have had an opportunity to do it.

  “Well, even if she ingested the poison, it could have come from any of the ingredients you used.”

  “But other people would be sick, too,” she said.

  “Okay, then maybe Annabel got something in her system when she ate a meal at a restaurant with one of her friends.”

  “Don’t you think we would have heard if there were an outbreak of poisoning deaths? Wouldn’t we know if one of her friends was poisoned, too? No, Eilidh, I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but there’s no getting away from it—this looks really bad for me.”

  There was nothing else I could say. I couldn’t think of any words to placate her troubled mind and soul, so it was best for me to stop talking. I put my hand over hers and we sat at the table like that for several minutes. Brenda sat down with us and stared into her lap. I wondered what she was thinking. She hadn’t been sniffling as much since Andreas’s death, but I found myself thinking that could be for two reasons: she was getting used to Andreas being gone or she wasn’t using cocaine because Andreas wasn’t there to sell it to her.

  I immediately felt ashamed for believing the worst could be true of Brenda. More than anything I wanted to think she was moving past the grief she felt when Andreas died and wasn’t crying as much.

  I vowed to keep a closer eye on Brenda, for her own sake. I was sure Maisie was doing the same thing, but it couldn’t hurt to have two sets of eyes looking out for her.

  Rhisiart came down to the kitchen just a few minutes later. “Eilidh, can you come upstairs, please? We’d like to talk to you about something.”

  I could feel Maisie and Brenda watching me as I left, but I didn’t look at them. They knew I would share with them whatever I learned. Or whatever was asked of me.

  Rhisiart led the way into the drawing room and closed the door behind us. Hugh and Sian were already in there. Hugh greeted me and motioned for me to have a seat.

  “We’ve heard from the police about the results of Annabel’s autopsy,” Rhisiart began. I raised my eyebrows, hoping he wouldn’t realize I already knew that.

  “The medical examiner has concluded she was poisoned.”

  “That’s terrible,” I murmured. “With what? How?”

  “They haven’t given me that information yet,” he replied. “But I expect we’ll learn before very long. If they know she was poisoned, they must know what poison was used. But that’s not why we asked you to come in here.”

  I glanced around the warm, dark space. Anyone looking in would have wondered why such a somber group had gathered. There was a dichotomy in the room I didn’t care for: Hugh and Sian sat together on a divan and Rhisiart stood behind them. I, the interrogee, sat across from them in an armchair. I wasn’t sure where this discussion was leading, but I didn’t like it. I waited for someone to speak.

  Finally Rhisiart cleared his throat, then addressed me. “Have you had any discussions with Maisie or Brenda, but Maisie in particular, regarding her relationship with Annabel?”

  So that’s what this was all about. They were already trying to blame Annabel’s death on Maisie and Brenda.

  “No,” I answered. “I haven’t spoken to either of them about it.”

  “We still have to speak to the police about the situation, but it seems likely that poisoning would have come from something Annabel ate,” Rhisiart said.

  I nodded, unwilling to divulge the conversation I had shared with Maisie and Brenda. I hadn’t lied to Hugh or Sian or Rhisiart—Maisie and Brenda and I had not discussed Maisie’s relationship with Annabel. I was simply answering questions truthfully. If my interrogators didn’t ask the proper questions they wouldn’t get the answers they sought.

  “The police will likely be here soon,” Hugh said, and at that moment the door gong reverberated through the front of the castle. We all looked at each other, no one saying a word. Brenda would answer the door and announce the visitor. Or visitors.

  Indeed, Brenda came into the drawing room just moments later, escorting two police officers. She left, closing the door behind her, after taking tea orders from Hugh and Sian. She would probably not be eavesdropping on this conversation. I wasn’t sure I should even be there.

  One of the officers mentioned that immediately. “We will need
to have a word with each of the household staff, but perhaps we should just speak with the family for now,” he said, giving me a pointed look.

  I took the hint. “I’ll be in my room if anyone needs me,” I announced. I was glad to leave the room, though I wondered what the others would say once I left. It occurred to me for the first time that I might be questioned as a suspect simply because I had enjoyed such a close relationship with Annabel.

  But they certainly wouldn’t view me as a suspect, would they? The thought would be laughable if it weren’t so horrifying.

  I wanted to go straight down to the kitchen to warn Maisie and Brenda that Annabel’s sons and Sian were looking in Maisie’s direction as having poisoned Annabel, but I didn’t dare leave my room after telling the police that was where they could find me. I would have to be more careful about the family seeing me speaking to Maisie or Brenda. If I wanted to help the two women, I would have to downplay our friendly relationship.

  The first thing I did once my bedroom door was shut and I had pulled out my mobile phone was text Sylvie.

  Bad news.

  What?

  Annabel poisoned. Family asking questions.

  Who poisoned her?

  Don’t know.

  With what?

  Don’t know. Can you come over?

  Be right there.

  When she got there we sat on the floor in my room in front of the fire, talking over the shocking news.

  “Who could have done such a thing?” she asked.

  “I don’t have any idea. Everyone liked Annabel. She didn’t have any enemies that I knew of, and I knew just about everything there was to know.”

  “You mentioned there had been abuse in the house growing up. Do you suppose Hugh or Rhisiart finally snapped and killed her because of what happened when they were little?” Sylvie suggested.

  I spread my hands wide. “I have no idea. It scares me to think there could be someone in this castle who hated Annabel enough to kill her. And how does that person feel about me? I was closer to Annabel than anyone.”

  “Don’t say that,” Sylvie said with a shiver. “The person who did this to Annabel obviously had a problem with Annabel, not you.”

  “I hope you’re right.” I paused for a moment.

  “Could one of her boys, or Cadi or Sian, really hate her enough to kill her?” Sylvie had no answer.

  Chapter 12

  The doorbell sounded again, reverberating through the halls. I went to see if someone was answering it and I saw Brenda pass the end of the hallway on her way to the door. She led a police officer and an older woman toward the drawing room. I pulled my door shut and spoke to my cousin.

  “It’s another police officer and some woman I’ve never seen. I wonder what’s going on now.”

  “No doubt the police officer is here to help ask questions,” Sylvie said. “I shouldn’t be surprised if the castle is crawling with them before evening.”

  And as if the police force of the village heard her, the doorbell sounded again. I repeated my actions from a few moments ago—I looked to see if Brenda was going to answer the door, then watched as she led a phalanx of officers toward the drawing room.

  “It won’t be long before I’m summoned to answer questions,” I said miserably. “It’s hard enough around here with Annabel gone, but now with everyone suspecting everyone else, it’s going to be positively ghastly.”

  “Should I stay? I’m sure the police are going to want to talk to me, too,” Sylvie said.

  “I’m not sure,” I answered. “I don’t want them to find you in here and think that we’re colluding and comparing our stories.”

  “You’re beginning to sound paranoid. I’ll go back to the coach house and wait for them to either come over there or call me over here.”

  “Maybe you should leave through the kitchen door downstairs,” I fretted.

  “I have nothing to hide, and neither do you. How is it going to look if someone sees me trying to sneak back over to the coach house? They’ll think I’m guilty of something, that’s for sure. No, I’m going out the front door. If anyone asks, I came to see you because you got some bad news, and that’s the truth whether they like it or not.”

  My phone buzzed. I looked at the screen—it was a text from Griff.

  What’s going on?

  I didn’t answer right away. I wanted to make sure Sylvie was out of the castle and back in the coach house without facing a gauntlet of questions from the police.

  She left without incident and I resisted the temptation to listen at the drawing room door to try to learn what the police were telling the family.

  Instead I returned to my room to wait. My stomach churned and rumbled, my hands were sweaty. Brenda knocked softly on the door at one point and raised her eyebrows when I answered, a silent request for information, but I merely shook my head slightly and whispered “later.” I knew she and Maisie, especially Maisie, were desperate for information, but I didn’t want to get them in trouble and I didn’t want to get myself into trouble if the police or any member of the family were to see us having a whispered conversation.

  For that same reason I didn’t respond to Griff’s earlier text. I longed to tell him what was going on in the castle, but I didn’t want to cause any trouble for him. If the police were going to question him, it would be better for him and for me if he heard the news of the poisoning from the authorities.

  I didn’t have long to wait before a police officer knocked at my door and requested that I accompany her to the drawing room. As we got there Hugh, Rhisiart, and Sian were leaving, also accompanied by an officer. I didn’t know where they were going.

  The officer motioned for me to sit down. The older woman who had come into the castle earlier with one of the police officers was also in the room, seated at a desk, pen and pad in hand.

  “I am Officer Beckton and this is Dr. Thomas, the medical examiner,” the police officer began. “The doctor and I have some questions for you. It’s highly irregular for the medical examiner to accompany the authorities to question people regarding a person’s death, but in this case we thought we should have Dr. Thomas with us because of the community standing of the deceased and the fact that her death so closely follows the death of a close family member.”

  The officer asked her questions first, taking me through the events of the past several days, and in particular the thirty-six hours leading up to Annabel’s death. I repeated all the information I had previously given the other officers who questioned me. The officer seemed satisfied with my answers, but how was I to know what she was really thinking? For all I knew I was a suspect in Annabel’s death.

  Then it was Dr. Thomas’s turn to ask questions.

  “Eilidh, I’m sure you’ve been told that Annabel’s cause of death was poisoning.”

  “Yes. The family told me.”

  “Are you aware of the poison that caused her death?”

  “No.”

  “It’s called ‘monkshood.’”

  “I’ve never heard of it.”

  “Sometimes it’s called ‘devil’s helmet.’”

  I shook my head.

  “How about ‘wolfsbane?’”

  I started. “Wolfsbane? That grows in the English cottage garden right outside the castle.”

  The doctor wrote something on her pad. “Are you sure?”

  “I’m positive. Annabel had mentioned before that it’s poisonous, but still very popular in cottage gardens. It’s a beautiful plant.”

  “How long has Annabel been growing the wolfsbane?”

  “I don’t know. It’s been there since I started working here.”

  Dr. Thomas made another note on her pad and nodded at the police officer, who spoke to me. “I’m sure we and Dr. Thomas will have more questions for you, so please stay nearby.”

&nbs
p; I nodded and left the room. I had to resist the urge to break into a run going down the hallway, and I longed to tell Maisie and Brenda what I had learned from the doctor. But it wouldn’t be wise to talk to them before the police did. I thought again about texting Griff to tell him of the developments in the castle, but I refrained. Same with Sylvie. If the police were going to talk to Annabel’s other employees and my guest I didn’t want anyone, including me, to get in trouble for talking about the investigation prematurely.

  Instead I went online to research wolfsbane. It seemed incredible that such a pretty plant could cause such harm and suffering. The plant in Annabel’s garden was more purple than blue, though the plant had bluer varieties, as well as yellow-ivory varieties. It was highly toxic when ingested and there were even stories of its use in ancient times as an aid in euthanasia.

  What interested me the most was the evidence that the taste of wolfsbane was so bitter that accidental poisoning was rare. In other words, if someone had slipped the plant into Annabel’s food, she would have been able to taste it and she wouldn’t have eaten the food. Maisie would be very happy to learn that.

  There were also instances of people becoming ill and dying after merely touching the plant. Annabel had told me once that she avoided pruning the wolfsbane because of its toxicity. Since she was so careful around wolfsbane, it seemed unlikely that she would have gotten sick by coming into physical contact with the plant out in the cottage garden.

  Another interesting fact I learned about wolfsbane from my wee bit of research was that it often causes severe stomach pain and upset, followed by a slowing of the heart rate and heart failure. I didn’t know for sure whether Annabel died from heart failure, but it made sense. After complaining of a sour stomach in the morning, Annabel had experienced worsening gastrointestinal pain throughout the day. Then something had caused her to collapse on the floor of her bedroom and death had apparently come quickly. It had happened in the time it took me to go down to the kitchen for tea. I shuddered at the thought of Annabel suffering from the effects of the poison. From what I was reading, it sounded like an agonizing death.