“Do you know anything at all about the indiscretion?”
“We hoped it was to do with a woman.” Another weak smile. “He was so close-mouthed about it. Wouldn’t tell us a thing.”
“Why did you hope it was to do with a woman?”
“Louis was the sweetest man alive. He never got over that silly woman, Emilia. You know they had this great love affair when they were younger but she up and ran off to Switzerland. He only saw her one other time about six or seven years ago. She married a rich man so Louis gave up on it. Went back to his job in America.”
“Went back to his job? What do you mean?”
Again, she held something back and told him the glossy version. “Yes, he went back to his job at Harvard. He came here for a visit and saw Emilia. She was living here then and it must have been at that time she told him she was married. He never got over her.”
“Did you know she died?”
“Yes, mother told me. We were both relieved he was coming home finally and wouldn’t have that constant heartache so close by.”
Johns stood up to go. “When was the last time you saw your brother?”
“He was here last week. Friday it was. Louis had received a telephone call asking him to come see mother. When he got here, mother and I were both surprised to see him. No one here had called him.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Benton. I may have other questions later. You’ll be contacted today about the arrangements. Please accept my sympathy.”
“Before you go, Chief Inspector, was Louis’ death unnatural?” she asked him point blank.
“Yes, Mrs. Benton, I believe it was. We’re treating it as a homicide and would appreciate your discretion until we have more information.”
She bit her upper lip and stood up. “I’ll be right back.” She motioned for him to wait.
A few minutes passed and she returned handing him a letter. He saw it was from an attorney in Hartford, Connecticut. It stated that Emilia Carstons had requested that, upon her death, Louis Devry should be informed that they shared a child.
Johns looked dumbstruck. He said, “This is dated two weeks ago. Emilia Carstons has been dead for years. Why all of a sudden did he receive this letter?”
“Her will has been tied up for years and her family is all dead. I know her husband had fought to regain rights to her inheritance but the family in Connecticut hated him. They never wanted him to be able to touch her money so the father cut her off when she married him. This would have made Louis rich and a father.”
“What did your brother think about being a father?”
“Terrified. To be honest, I think he was numb to the idea. He didn’t even respond to the attorney’s letter. He couldn’t get his bearings because he was obsessed with Emilia. The boy would have to be about six or seven years old now. The child would have been a sad reminder of her.”
Johns tried to keep his face unemotional. He never allowed himself to judge other people’s motives or actions. That was for the courts. “May I keep this for a while, Mrs. Benton?”
“Of course. Thank you for coming all this way.”
Johns left Rose Bungalow with something he hadn’t had before: a motive for murder.
Chapter 34
THE DAY WAS PERFECT. RAINY, cloudy, and cold. Martha and Helen spent the morning working out the structure of their new working relationship. Since Helen’s divorce, she had been trying to do the job of three people.
Martha was a perfect fit. With years of experience managing people, she was organized, detail-oriented and a trifle on the compulsive side. Keeping clients happy, doing research until late into the night, and creating tidy case files made her a favorite among the attorneys she worked for. In her last job she had become the firm’s senior paralegal, which meant she managed the other paralegals to make sure they were following protocol.
The girls felt good about their new venture and with a new client to see about, they were busy. Helen suspected now that Louis Devry was gone, their work at The Grange would be at least a six-month project and a follow-up project at Healy might require her to relocate temporarily to Marsden-Lacey.
With much to consider and discuss, they chatted happily the entire way to Healy. The weather was delicious. Neither woman had regretted staying in England after their mates were gone. Even on days that required a wrap or a raincoat and wellies, there was always a warm pub or cottage fire to retreat to. There, they could enjoy a warm scone with clotted cream and a hot cup of strong tea.
This particular rainy day, they would be having tea at Healy House. Piers promised Mrs. Thyme would make it herself which meant it would not only be beautiful to see but delicious as well. Needless to say, they were excited. Their conversation turned to Helen’s and Piers’ tête-à-tête the other night while Martha was sleeping.
“I think he’s a big flirt, Helen.”
“Takes one to know one.”
“True. Tread lightly around that one. He’s used to having women throw themselves at him.” Martha shifted the Mini into fourth gear. The Green Bean zipped along between hedgerows and stone walls with windshield wipers beating out a soft, sleepy tune.
“Don’t worry, I’m not sure having another man in my life is what I want right now anyway. He is charming, but,” Helen shrugged her shoulders, “he might be too much too soon.”
Martha considered Helen’s point. A sheep farmer and his dog were working hard to corral a flock of sheep down in a pasture. The rain had slowed slightly into a mist.
“I always enjoyed the game, Helen, but after Martin died I didn’t even consider seeking a new relationship. Kate came first and I wanted to raise her. Besides, I loved Martin Littleword and he would be a hard act for any man to follow. I understand where you’re coming from. No more teasing from me, if you like.”
“I like.” Helen smiled at Martha. “Besides, if he’s a flirt, then I’m going to practice my hand at it. Goodness knows, I deserve to play a bit. Right?”
“Right.”
The road started to rise over a hill and once at the top, the view stretching out below them was delightful. There in the valley sat Healy with the river running along its left-hand side. They could make out smoke coming from one of the chimneys.
“We’re going to have a fire,” Martha said with joy. “It’s a perfect day for it. Isn’t it, Helen?”
“Good thing you like the cold.” Helen shivered. “Good thing I brought my big sweater.”
In another five minutes they had brought the car to a gravel-crunching stop right at the front steps of Healy.
As they ascended the front stairs, Martha turned to Helen and said with a wink, “Not a bad place to be queen, huh?”
“Nope,” Helen answered, “not bad at all.”
Helen and Martha didn’t know it, but they weren’t alone. Someone was watching from a second story bedroom window. That someone saw Martha’s wink and heard their playful conversation. Their observer wasn’t amused, not in the least.
JOHNS NEEDED TO SEE COUSINS to talk with him about what he learned from Devry’s mother. He initially tried calling the house number Cousins gave him, but there wasn’t any answer so he left a message. For now, he would stop by the station and pick up one of the constables. They would go together to Healy and wait for Cousins, if they had to.
His phone rang. It was a number he didn’t recognize, but he answered it. “Hello?”
“Is this the Chief Inspector?” a woman asked.
“Yes. Who is this?”
“I’m Mr. Cousins’ personal secretary. He wanted to let you know he will be out this afternoon for a business meeting at The Grange. If you would like to arrange a meeting for tomorrow, I’m to help arrange an appointment.”
“Thank you, I would. What time works for Mr. Cousins? I would like to talk with him today instead of tomorrow,” Johns said gruffly.
“Today won’t work. After his meeting, he’ll be going to Leeds to meet with his solicitor. Tomorrow morning is the earliest time availab
le.”
Johns sighed irritably. “Fine. How does nine a.m. sound?”
“Perfect. We’ll see you then. Thank you, Chief Inspector.”
Johns hung up. He knew how to see Cousins. He would go to The Grange and wait for him. He thought dryly how lovely it must be to have people managing your every problem. Cousins was going to answer for this problem on his own.
Rain started hitting his windshield.
“Bloody rain,” he grumbled. He slowed down a minuscule amount. He had every intention of catching Cousins at The Grange.
CONSTABLE WATERS WAS TIRED OF Sam’s constant whining and requests for his mobile phone. Earlier that day Johns had given the okay for Donna to let Sam earn opportunities to use his phone by showing good behavior. Donna went back to his cell and studied the scraggly young teenager.
“Sam, how old are you?” she asked.
“Seventeen. Why?” he asked sullenly.
“Want some advice about women?”
“Not really. You’re probably going to say the same thing as my aunt.” He poked the tip of his boots between the spokes of one of the chairs in his cell.
“Stop, messing with the chair,” Donna said in her no-nonsense tone which made him pull his toe out of the spokes but then roll his eyes.
“You’re the one who tried to mug Martha in the marketplace last week?”
“Yeah, I needed some money. Penny says I’m always broke.”
“Thought of getting a job, Sam? There are other ways to get money than mashing women in the street.”
“Mashing? I’m the one who got mashed. That crazy old woman nearly killed me.”
Donna couldn’t hold back a smile, thinking of Martha teaching Sam a good lesson. She tried a new approach. “What if I helped you with Penny? She might give you a second look and not marry Jeffrey, if she thought you were making an effort.”
Sam sat up on his cot. “Like what?”
“A bath wouldn’t hurt for starters and if you know how to use a shaver, you might consider a fresh face. A lot of women enjoy seeing a man’s whole face.” She smiled brightly while hoping at the same time he wouldn’t hear the touch of sarcasm in her voice. “You might be a nice-looking kid somewhere under there.”
“Well, I don’t know. I like my style.”
Donna stifled a guffaw and considered saying something about his “style” but thought better of it. Instead she tried a different tactic. “Want your phone back for an hour?”
The boy bolted off his cot and grabbed the bars in his door. “Now you’re talking my language. How do I get the phone?”
“Take a bath, shave your face and put on some decent clothes,” she said firmly with a stoic expression.
For ten seconds neither Sam nor Donna broke their eye contact. Eventually, the teenager caved to the mother of two small boys.
With more drama than any fifteen-year-old girl could have managed, Sam flung himself on the bed and said huffily, “Okay. I’ll do it.”
“Good. I’ll get Constable Cross to take you to the showers. I want you to do a smart job on yourself, Sam, otherwise no phone.”
More eye rolling and an under-the-breath, “Fine.”
It took an hour but what emerged under Constable Cross’ tutelage was worthy of an episode of “My Big Juvenile Delinquent Makeover.” Sam was actually a handsome young man. Both Donna and Constable Cross told him Penny was missing out if she didn’t come around.
All this positive affirmation brightened Sam’s mood considerably and he was soon ready for his phone call. Donna took his picture with his phone and Sam sent it via text message to Penny. The two constables kept their fingers crossed and said a few prayers in hope that Penny would respond favorably. While he waited, Sam was allowed to pace the reception area.
A phone rang but it wasn’t Sam’s. Donna answered the phone.
It was Johns. “Waters, I’m here at The Grange. I know we’re short-staffed but who is on duty besides you?”
“Cross.”
“Ok, I want you to meet me here at The Grange. I may need to be in more than one place at a time today.”
Sam was still pacing the floor and Donna got an idea. “Chief, could I bring Sam? I want to let him see the other side of the coin so to speak.”
“Rehab, huh Waters? Fine. Tell him I chipped him in his sleep so he won’t try and escape again. If he does, it’s on your head.”
“Absolutely. We’ll see you in ten minutes,” Donna said. “Come on Sam. You’re going with me.”
“Where to, Boss?” Sam asked.
“Not your concern, son. Might need some help with this job for Chief. Thought you could come along. By the way, Chief says if you try and make a break for it, he’ll hunt you down and make you do civic work cleaning the sides of the canal dredger. Understand?”
Sam heaved a dramatic sigh. “Yeah, I understand.”
“Let’s go then,” Donna said and tossed him one of the rain jackets the constables wore when on duty. “Put this on. It looks like rain.”
Chapter 35
MARTHA AND HELEN WERE MET at the door by Sarah, Mrs. Thyme’s right-hand girl. All smiles and dimples, she was happy to see them and invited them in, out of the rain.
“Hi, Sarah. We’re here to see Mr. Cousins. He invited us to tea and to take a look at his library,” Helen said.
“Oh? I’m sorry. He isn’t back yet. He went to Leeds today, I think,” Sarah said. “Will you please come in, though? I’m sure he will be back soon. Tea should be ready in about an hour. Would you like to look at the library first?”
Helen and Martha looked at each other confused.
“Sure. That will be fine,” Helen said.
Sarah asked them to follow her. They walked into the warm, wood-paneled hall. So much had happened here. The misty weather outside made the room so much more welcoming because a fire was laid in the enormous fireplace. It snapped and crackled cheerfully. With the warmth of the fire, all the ghosts from the other night were gone.
Soon they reached the library. As the door swung open to receive them, they couldn’t help but flash back to the night when Piers was shot and Martha was pushed down the stairs.
“If you need me, I’ll be in the kitchen helping Senior Agosto. He’s leaving soon and he’s in a foul temper. Will you be staying for dinner?” Sarah asked.
“Not sure, but it’s doubtful,” Martha said with a warm smile for the young girl.
“Okay. Make yourself at home.”
Sarah went over to one of the interior walls of the room where bookshelves lined the wall. She pulled a lever built cleverly into the shelf’s edge. There was a muffled click and she pushed her way through a panel like one would a door. She smiled at them, and then disappeared, the panel realigning itself like it hadn’t moved in four hundred years.
Alone in the room, Martha turned to Helen and said, “Strange don’t you think? Piers not being here, I mean? Did we get the day wrong? Maybe he meant for us to come tomorrow.”
“Uh, maybe.” Helen said without taking her gaze off the secret door in the bookshelf. “But did you see how Sarah left the room? I want to sneak a peek in there.”
“Oh, yeah. I forgot about the secret passage. I saw Piers open the bookshelf on the day of the tennis tournament and dinner party,” Martha said.
Helen walked over to the bookcases and inspected the place where Sarah disappeared. “This must be a quicker way to the kitchen. Hm…no matter. Let’s get to work. Piers will show up and probably be all apologies. Might get a yummy dinner out of it.”
“Sounds good to me,” Martha said. “Where do we start?”
“With the collection records. I want to do an inventory first. We need to make sure everything he thinks is here is really here. That will take us days if not weeks from the look of things. We may have to pull double duty for a while. Is that okay?”
“Are you kidding, Helen? Some days I have to pinch myself to make sure I’m not just dreaming living in this country and these kinds of pla
ces are our office? Let’s get to work.”
Helen found a shelf which housed nine slender volumes labeled “Inventory.” Taking the first one down and delicately going through the pages, she realized how right she was about the time frame. Their work was cut out for them.
After about an hour and a half of one person calling out a title and another person locating it, Helen looked up and said, “I’m kind of hungry. How about you?”
“Hey. Let’s go down to the kitchen and see if Agosto will let us have a cup of tea. We can take the back entrance.” Martha pointed with a bright, sly smile at the secret door in the bookshelves.
Helen’s eyes got wide like a child given permission to play hide-and-seek in an old, rambling house. “Do you think we can get it to open?”
“I bet I can do it. Let me see.”
Martha walked over to the area followed by Helen. There in the bookshelf they could see the hidden latch and the door where Sarah had made her unconventional exit.
“Here’s the latch. All we have to do is—”
Like a crash of thunder, a terrific noise ripped through the room. Helen groaned and fell to the floor. Martha reacted instinctively and crouched down next to Helen. Luckily they were behind Piers’ massive oak desk.
Helen was shot, but the bullet only grazed her upper arm. She blinked at Martha and signaled she was okay. Martha could feel panic starting to rise within her.
Martha lifted her head in an attempt to see, but she nearly lost it. At that very instant another horrific bang sent papers flying off Piers’ desk, filtering down like leaves to rest on top of the girls.
“Help!” they both screamed.
Like a mind-numbing slap to their brains, someone started laughing. It was the laugh from the night they were being stalked at The Grange. It was a woman’s laugh but it was metallic like it was coming from a machine.
“You know,” it said, “there isn’t anyone here. Just us girls tonight. I’ve got a change of plans. I promise not to shoot but I need you to stand up. We’re going for a short walk.”
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