Grand Prize: Murder!

by Vivian Conroy

  “Crime?” she echoed. “What kind of crime?”

  She glanced at Lilian, who had turned even paler. Of course she was worried the guard had complained to Cash about Sydney taking away his camera and threatening him. Now that he was dead, that threat took on a life of its own.

  Cash said, “The victim explained to me that he was with a private agency for security. Top-notch as he emphasized. They work big events at mansions for stars in Hollywood and all over the country. He was certain that…” Cash wet his lips.

  Vicky looked him over. “What? You’re not making any sense.”

  Cash focused on her, with a frown. “How well do you know this Bella Brookes?”

  She shrugged, surprised that he asked such a question. “Not well at all. I met her in the UK when she was doing a book tour in Wales for her then latest installment in the series. She signed Death in Dartmoor for me, and I told her I worked for magazines, writing on hidden gems of the English countryside. We exchanged email addresses and kept in touch, and when I moved back here and started the gift shop, she offered to come to my store for her New England book tour. She was coming here anyway so it made sense to stop at Glen Cove as well. The scavenger hunt was a later idea. That’s all I can tell you. How come?”

  Cash exhaled. “I’m not sure yet. I can’t tell you too much about it. It’s an official investigation now. But…” He waved in the direction of the dead body. “He claimed to know Bella Brookes from some prior occasion.”

  Vicky didn’t see a problem. “Oh, but he might. As a security guard he must have attended a lot of parties, and she has too, so…”

  “No,” Cash said. “He didn’t know her from a party. But from an investigation.”

  “An investigation? You mean… The crime you just mentioned, the one he told you about last night, was allegedly committed by Bella Brookes?”

  Cash shook his head. “I can’t tell you any more about it. I need to talk to Miss Brookes in person. Fast.”

  “Of course, but…” Vicky’s mind spun.

  Her earlier suspicion that the man in the gray suit was the reporter Giverny now took on a whole new meaning. Had he been looking into Bella’s supposed criminal past for a hot scoop? “Can’t you tell me a little bit more about what happened last night? He approached you asking you to do what? Did he mention his name?”

  Cash exhaled. “No. He wanted me to question her at once about her possible involvement in a crime some years back. Well, of course I told him right away that was impossible. I couldn’t go question my sister-in-law’s guest of honor!” He looked at Lilian. “You would never have talked to me again.”

  “You can count on that,” Lilian said sourly.

  Vicky waved a hand to stop them and said impatiently, “When the guard made the accusation against Bella, what did you say in return?”

  “That he had to bring me more than suspicions to make this stick. I figured if he really had something, he’d come to the station in the morning. And he said he would get me all the proof I wanted and stormed off.”

  “What did he mean by getting proof?” Vicky asked, her heart rate increasing.

  Cash shrugged. “How do I know? But now that he is lying there, dead, I wonder if he confronted Bella Brookes to force her into a confession.”

  Vicky exhaled. “Did he meet up with her?”

  Cash eyed her. “Maybe.”

  “Well, as he told you about his intentions, you could have kept an eye on him. Or you could have kept an eye on Bella.” Vicky bit her lip. “Or you could have told me and I would have kept an eye on either of them. Didn’t you realize he might create a public row? She’s a well-known author. If he had openly accused her of something, people would have started talking about it right away. It could have been so painful.”

  Cash shrugged again. “I didn’t believe him. I figured he was just some hustler who had made up a story. Why come over and bother you with it? You had worked so hard to make the store a success and deserved a night off without headaches.”

  “Maybe, but now we have this on our hands.” Vicky rubbed her forehead. “The man who accused Bella is dead and we can’t ignore what he said to you mere hours before he died. What if he did have proof of something? It might be on his person. Or no, he would have shown it to you last night. In his hotel room maybe? Where did he stay anyway?”

  Lilian said, “I think the guards came in together in a company van and left again after the party ended.”

  “So someone should have noticed he was not there. Did they mention it to you?”

  “No. But I didn’t see them off. Deke did.”

  Vicky said to Cash, “You have to look into it, find out where he was staying and confiscate all his possessions. I’d like to know if there are traces in his room that he shaved off his facial hair. Stubble, mustache. Or if there is a fake mustache there.”

  Cash’s eyes widened. “Fake mustache? He had no mustache.”

  “Exactly. I think I saw him around town earlier with a big mustache, which made him look different. But I’m not sure about it. You check it out if his name is Giverny or he used the alias Giverny. He might even have a fake press card attributed to the Haven Herald. And see if he had anything in his room—a notebook or tablet computer—that holds information about this crime he was accusing Bella of. If not, you have to find out via police records or something whatever case he was referring to.”

  Cash raised his hands. “I know what I have to do, Vicky.”

  “What are all of you staring at?” a voice asked.

  All three of them turned to Sydney, who stood in the doorway. He wore a shirt without a tie and jeans—casual attire for a Saturday off. There were car keys in his hand.

  “Sydney!” Lilian cried, took a step as if she wanted to run toward him, then thought better of it and stayed rooted to the spot.

  Cash took two steps toward him. “Where did you come from?”

  Sydney looked confused. “I took a walk.”

  With your car? Vicky thought, but said nothing. Cash would notice the car keys in the man’s hand on his own and ask a question about it.

  “Why so early?” Cash said.

  “I was awake early and I felt kind of stuffed after the party last night. If you want to know the truth,” Sydney said irritably, “I had way too much to drink and woke up with a pounding headache, so a walk seemed like a good idea. And it was, because I feel much better now. What’s up anyway? Why are you all here, standing around…”

  Now Sydney got a look past Cash and saw the body. He paled. “Is that…”

  “He is dead, yes. And I’d like to know what you know about that.”

  Sydney stammered, “M-m-me-me? Why me?” He glanced at his sister. “What did you tell him?”

  Cash turned to Lilian. “You know something?”

  Lilian hung her head and didn’t say a word.

  Sydney rushed to explain, “Look, I only took his camera away from him. I didn’t want him to sell those pictures he had taken to the tabloids. What else could he have wanted with them? I figured he was some reporter in disguise. I just wanted to save Lilian the embarrassment. I was angry that he had sold himself to Deke as a security guard and I threatened to expose him to his employer. Then he threatened me. Said he’d kill me if I did. I said I’d sooner keelhaul him. It was just a retort, you know, on the spur of the moment; it didn’t mean anything. He had nothing on Lilian or me.”

  His voice faltered. “I was just taking the camera as a precaution.”

  “You still have it?” Cash asked tightly.

  “Yes, I put it upstairs in Deke’s study.”

  “Then I want it, right away. I want to see what the victim snapped. Or should I say whom?”

  Sydney looked down. He fidgeted with his hands. “I’m innocent. Cash, for crying out loud, I’m family. You know I wouldn’t kill anybody. In my own sister’s house? I’m not crazy!”

  Cash exhaled slowly. “Get me the camera, Sydney. Handle it with a hankie, so maybe I
can still get some fingerprints off it. And while you’re at it, you might as well get Deke out of bed so he can give me the name of this guy, the company he worked for, anything you two have on him.”

  “Deke can’t have much. He used this company often, also for business meetings with important clients, and they simply sent their best men. He doesn’t know in advance who it will be or…”

  “Just get it for me!” Cash snapped, and Sydney ran out of the room.

  Lilian clenched her hands. “Do you have to yell at my brother and treat him like a suspect?”

  “He is a suspect.” Cash cracked his knuckles. “You’d better hope, dear sister-in-law, that I can keep the state police out of this one. If they scent I could be personally involved because of my family tie to you, they might send somebody else to take the case, and then I can do nothing to protect your good name.”

  Lilian turned ashen. “Please, Cash…” Her voice was hoarse. “I worked so hard to gain my reputation. It’s spotless. Don’t let this spoil it. I never asked for this man to get murdered in my home. You have to prove it was someone from the outside. You have to!” She burst into new tears.

  “All right.” Cash waved his hands in submission. “I’ll first try to ascertain what claims the guard held against Bella Brookes. If the guy’s accusations hold some truth, that provides a perfect motive for his murder. Combined with the find of the fan bit here at the scene of the crime, I’ll have probable cause for a search warrant for the apartment over your store and for the arrest of Bella Brookes.”

  Vicky closed her eyes for a moment. Thanks to the scavenger hunt, Bella’s presence in Glen Cove was news countywide. Her arrest would make waves, pulling reporters to Glen Cove in droves. They would descend on the town and her store to pick it clean of information like vultures clean off bones. It could leave her gift shop’s reputation in tatters.

  The companies she had imagined wanting to buy her bespoke British-themed packages for business relations wouldn’t want to be associated with her anymore.

  She could forget about doing another hen party.

  People would shun her business and she’d lose all her savings invested in the store and the stock.

  Not to mention how disappointed her friends would be who had also invested their time and energy in the gift shop’s start.

  She said to Cash, “Just give me some time over the weekend to come up with another suspect than Bella. I need all the help I can get so I will have to tell Marge and Ms. Tennings what happened here. You can rely on them to be discreet about it. In the earlier murder case they didn’t jump to conclusions or risk the police investigation going awry.”

  Cash sighed. “I guess it won’t stay a secret anyway. People are bound to notice the activity here as we have to bring in a photographer, search for prints and other evidence, and remove that body.”

  “You can’t tell people a thing,” Lilian screeched, “especially not the press!”

  Cash raised both his hands in a placating gesture. “I will think up some story about uh…an incident during the party we are looking into. People will suspect it was theft. Like with that statuette that went missing last time.”

  Lilian sobbed again. “I just wish it was a missing statuette this time. A dead body is so much worse.”

  Chapter Six

  Vicky was glad to know she’d find both her sleuthing partners at the store. Marge always helped out on Saturdays and Ms. Tennings had agreed to stop by and help with the final touches to the hen party gifts. They had to be delivered to the hotel so maybe on the way over there they’d have a chance to find some information that could help?

  As Vicky walked into the store, the retired nanny was just helping a customer choose a birthday present for a friend: either an embroidered pillow or a mug with botanical drawings on them. “I’ll take them both,” the woman decided. “I drove all the way out here for this store. Well, actually for the book signing this afternoon. I read all the Bella Brookes books so I suppose I’ll have a good chance of winning the trip to London. It will involve solving a murder, like in the books, right?”

  Vicky cringed thinking of what people might feel if they found out murder had struck for real. Some would be appalled and stay far away, but others would be fascinated and flock in. They might actually sit on a bench eating ice cream, watching her store and the apartment over it, waiting for Bella’s arrest!

  Pulling her thoughts away from this grim scenario, Vicky helped wrap the pillow in her brand-new flower-splattered wrapping paper and attached a ribbon to the top with a sticker giving the store’s name, address and website. She saw the customer out personally and then turned to Marge and Ms. Tennings.

  Before she could say anything about the find at Lilian’s, Marge gushed, “When I came home from the party, I dived into the ARC again. But I was so tired I fell asleep before I could finish it. I bet Kev that Lady Agatha did it. If I’m right, Kev will make the pancakes for the Little Leaguers and clean up after they leave.” She sighed. “Pure bliss.”

  “And if you lose the bet?” Vicky asked with a hitched brow.

  “I won’t lose. Kev’s suggestion for the culprit is ludicrous. I mean: the chauffeur did it? Come on. What would be his motive? He hardly knew the victim.”

  “What if you lose?” Vicky pressed.

  “I have to wash and wax Kev’s car.” Marge grimaced. “If you knew how dirty that thing is… Kev doesn’t see mud. Not to mention what he manages to collect inside.”

  She shuddered. “I just have to win. And I will. Kev didn’t even read the book, just guessed the killer from some tidbits I mentioned to him. That’ll never work, right?”

  “Well…” Vicky cocked her head, slightly amused at the beginning of doubt in Marge’s voice. “Maybe because you’re an expert on cozies, you gave Kevin all the relevant clues and that is why he worked it out right away.”

  Marge threatened to throw something at her, and Vicky took a fake dive behind the counter. Then popping up again, she said seriously, “How about figuring out a real case?”

  Marge hitched a brow. “How come?”

  Ms. Tennings said, “What happened?” drawing closer to hear all about it.

  Vicky told her friends how Lilian had shown up on her doorstep at seven-thirty, talking about a dead body in her home.

  Marge was stunned, then speculated that somebody malignant could have put it there, just like what was done in one of the Miss Marple mysteries. “He could have been killed elsewhere, you know. Maybe the culprit wanted to pin it on Lilian and Deke or on her brother Sydney. Maybe somebody observed him taking the camera away from the guard and the guard threatening him. While the police waste time establishing a tie between the owners of the house and the victim, the killer will get away.”

  “I don’t think he could have been killed anywhere else. I saw the murder weapon, lying right beside him. Some marble pedestal, which also came from the conservatory. An impromptu weapon picked up in an argument, most likely. And if he had been moved, there would have been traces of blood along the route I suppose. I’m quite sure it happened on the spot.”

  “Oh.” Marge grimaced at the mention of the blood. “I bet Lilian is upset.”

  “Yeah, a lot. Foremost about her reputation sinking. She asked Cash to keep it quiet for the moment. Now that gives us a little time, and I mean, a little, to find out who could have possibly done it. The thing is…” Vicky took a deep breath “…a piece of Bella’s fan was found on the scene. So we sort of fear she could get accused.”

  “Why?” Ms. Tennings seemed incredulous. “Bella came to a party where she hardly knew a soul. She had no reason to want to kill anybody.”

  “Unfortunately that’s not completely true.” Vicky told her friends about the dead man’s accusations and Cash’s reluctance to respond the way the guard wanted. “When Cash did not act, as he had hoped, maybe the guy approached Bella directly and…”

  “She silenced him? What nonsense. She would have laughed at him and tol
d him to go take a hike. Doesn’t intimidate easily.” Marge sounded adoring. “She is one feisty lady.”

  “She also has a lot to lose,” Ms. Tennings reminded her. “I think we should at least make sure if the piece came off her fan. Why don’t I mind the store and you go up to her and have a look at the fan right now? Also ask her a few questions about last night. Find out whether this guard accosted her with his accusations.”

  “And if she was accused of a crime once, like the guy claimed?” Marge looked serious. “That’s very painful. She is our guest. We can hardly ask her such questions.”

  Ms. Tennings nodded solemnly. “I know. But we’re doing it to save her from being wrongly accused. We’re only trying to prevent her arrest on Monday.”

  “Right. Let’s do it now then,” Marge said, and they left the store and rang the bell at the apartment.

  After a few minutes of tense waiting, Bella Brookes opened the door. Her hair was perfectly styled. Her turquoise pantsuit fitted her like a glove. She looked calm, collected, in no way like a killer who had murdered someone in cold blood but a few hours earlier.

  Then again with the previous murder Vicky had learned that sometimes the most unlikely people turned out to be killers. If they had a powerful enough reason for what they did.

  “Good morning,” Marge said in a forced cheerful tone. “Have you got a few minutes for us? I so want to talk to you about the ARC. I made a bet with my husband about the killer. Lady Agatha did it, right? So clever. I guessed right away that she hadn’t changed her gown because Frederick spilled wine on it. That was only her excuse. The dress really got damaged in the struggle with the murder victim.”

  Bella didn’t say anything to confirm or deny.

  Marge gave her a suspicious look, then took a deep breath. “Fine if you don’t want to reveal if it’s Lady Agatha or not. Just tell me it’s not the chauffeur. Then I’ll win my bet with my husband.”

  Bella didn’t as much as nod or shake her head, but the momentary flash in her eyes said it all.