A note in his voice made me pause. He sounded judgy.
“Some of the other vampires aren’t very good at their jobs?” I asked.
“Most of them do their work most of the time. I cannot speak to its quality,” he said.
“Can you tell me what happened two nights ago?” I asked him.
This was something I had been looking forward to doing since I became an investigator. I wanted to talk to suspects and compare stories. I would look for the holes in each description. In that way I would find out who the killer was. Only small nuances would do.
“I can tell you what happened, but it doesn’t really matter. I know who killed Timothy,” he said.
Chapter Fifteen
So much for nuance.
My mouth must have been hanging open a little, but Joel’s expression never changed.
“Who do you think did it?” I asked.
“It must have been Lewis. Doyle doesn’t have a mean bone in his body, and it wasn’t me,” he said.
After that we spoke for just a few more minutes. Joel gave me the basic details of what had happened two nights ago. The household had a quiet night. There were no guests, dinner was cooked and cleaned as usual. Taken at face value, he was indeed correct that the information did not seem especially helpful.
We concluded our interview with an agreement that if I had any more questions, I should ask them at my convenience.
It only occurred to me after he left the room that Joel hadn’t said why Edmund couldn’t be the killer. I decided to save that line of inquiry for later, if I needed it.
Next up was my talk with Lewis. Joel disappeared to get him while I sipped more tea. I finished my first cup and was debating pouring myself a second, but of course Joel, the perfect employee, noticed and poured me one before he left.
The tea was still warm, and I cradled it in my hands. The house wasn’t all that cold, but I must have been developing poor circulation, because my fingers were cold again after having warmed up on the drive over.
I didn’t have to wait long for Lewis. Joel had said he’d been waiting for me, and the other vampire must have been waiting nearby for his turn.
Lewis was quite different from the other two vampires. I had noticed it when I’d seen him before, but this would be the first time I had spoken to him.
He came into the room and smiled politely.
“If you need me I’ll be in the laundry room,” said Joel. He gave a slight bow and disappeared, while Lewis settled into the chair opposite me.
I looked Lewis over as unobtrusively as I could. He had slicked-back black hair and was wearing something more like a business suit than a butler’s uniform.
“So you’re the investigator? What kind of business is that?” he asked.
“I only just started it,” I said. “I’m looking forward to the investigative prospects here, though.”
“All of the murders?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“I don’t want anyone to get murdered, but if they do, I want to be the one investigating,” I said.
“Given all the excitement around here recently, I don’t suppose murders are going to be slowing down. You should have plenty of business for the foreseeable future,” he said.
“I really don’t think about it as a business, and I’m not rooting for more murders,” I insisted. “There are other kinds of mysteries to investigate too, where no one has to get killed.”
Unlike with Joel, facial expressions did come and go on this vampire’s face. Now he gave himself away enough to show his surprise.
“But it’s a business! You have to think about it as such to get anywhere,” he said. He looked genuinely offended at the notion that I might not take my business as seriously as he thought I should.
“I’ll think about that. You have a lot of interest in business?” I asked.
“Plenty. I’ve started five businesses and still have two of them,” he said proudly.
“Then why are you a butler?” I asked him.
“Edmund met me at the University and invited me to work here for a year. At first I said no way. Not my thing. I would make a terrible butler. And I do.” Mirth crinkled around the corners of his eyes.
“How many months have you been here, then?” I asked him.
“Only five. Seven more months to go. It isn’t boring, though. I learn something new every day. Besides, I really like my coworkers. It does mean burning the candle at both ends, so to speak. When I’m not doing my work here I’m keeping track of my businesses,” he explained.
Now that he had explained his background, it was time to switch gears.
“What happened the night Timothy died?” I asked.
Lewis shifted and ran his hand underneath his tie. He was uncomfortable now.
I just waited.
“After dinner we have cleanup. We all pitch in to put the dishes away and such. Usually it’s quick and quiet. Sometimes we eat with Edmund, sometimes he simply takes a sandwich in his study. Doyle has usually cooked, so he doesn’t have to clean up,” Lewis explained. His eyes were distant as he remembered the night of the murder.
This bit of information surprised me. The rebellious young vampire hadn’t struck me as the type who cooked.
“Doyle went out after dinner,” Lewis continued. “He does that a lot. Joel hates it, but Doyle doesn’t care. Doyle doesn’t care about much that goes on around here, as far as that goes. Timothy had taken to going out with him from time to time, but he stayed in that night. He liked to tend the grounds. Of course he waited until after dusk to do so. Often ghosts or skeletons would come by to chat. He went out to tend the grounds while Joel and I cleaned. That was the last we saw of him. Alive, anyway,” he added grimly.
“Did Joel ever leave your sight?” I asked. This was crucial. If everyone in the house had gone off by himself, it was going to make the mystery much harder to solve.
“Plenty of times. We were going back and forth to the kitchen. For instance, at one point Joel went to fetch a broom. All kinds of stuff,” he said.
That didn’t help much, but I nodded. It was starting to look like none of them could give any of the others an alibi.
“Do you know where Doyle goes on his evening adventures?” I asked.
Lewis shook his head. “Joel has confronted him about it a bunch of times, but he has a soft spot for the kid. His coddling him doesn’t help us get anything done around here, if you ask me. Anyhow, Doyle won’t tell him. I think Timothy knew, but he wouldn’t tell anyone either. I doubt that’s why Doyle killed Timothy, though,” added Lewis.
I started. Another accusation.
“You think it was Doyle?” I asked.
“Course I do. Must have been. He’s wild. He has a checkered past. Joel is way too refined to kill anyone. If he were angry, he’d just flare his nostrils and be done with it. I certainly didn’t do it. That just leaves Doyle.”
I nodded slowly.
“You don’t think it was an outside job, then?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Guess it could have been. Timothy had changed recently. You know, become more secretive and that sort of thing. Maybe he was involved in something that caused trouble, I don’t know. I still think it was Doyle. Like any good warlock, Edmund has a bunch of protections around this place. He’s one of the best. The protections weren’t triggered. Sounds like an inside job to me.”
This wasn’t the first time I’d heard that the protections hadn’t been triggered. Lewis was making it clear that he thought this was an open and shut case.
We talked a while longer, but no other helpful information came of it.
I had a third cup of tea.
Before I left the estate I went to find Doyle and eventually tracked him down in the kitchen. On my way there, I stopped in Timothy’s former room but found nothing of any interest. Unfortunately, he hadn’t left a note saying who had killed him and how. Surprise surprise.
Eager to get back to the mansion, I hurried to find Doyle. He
wasn’t working, he was lounging with his feet up. As I walked in he put out the cigarette he’d been smoking. When he realized who’d come in, he made a face.
“Would’ve kept the cigarette going if I’d known it wasn’t Joel,” he grumbled.
“Is Joel very strict about that sort of thing?” I asked.
“He thinks he runs the place. I mean, Edmund made him head butler and all that, but that doesn’t mean I can’t have a cigarette,” he said. Then he frowned. “It actually might mean I can’t have a cigarette. In front of him. You aren’t him, though, so I didn’t actually have to throw it out. Waste of a good smoke.”
“I’m sorry about your cigarette,” I said. I really wasn’t, but it seemed like the quickest way to move on.
“Is there something you need? More tea?” he asked.
“The tea was delicious. I really appreciate it, but no. I actually just came to ask you a quick question,” I said.
“Anything,” said Doyle. He continued to lounge.
“Who do you think killed Timothy?” I said.
If the curtains hadn’t been drawn, the sun would have been streaming through the windows. But there was still a lot of light coming in where the cracks in the curtains let in some daylight. That much light didn’t seem to bother these vampires.
“That wasn’t what I was expecting you to ask. Then again, I guess you have to ask it,” Doyle mused.
“It’s certainly better if I do,” I agreed.
Doyle didn’t look the least bit fazed by my question. These vampires were really a stoic lot, I thought.
“I should think it was obvious. It must’ve been Joel,” he said.
My head spinning. Each of the three vampires had implicated one of the others. What were the odds? I had wanted to ask Edmund what he thought of the whole thing, but he wasn’t around. They’d told me that he’d gone out for the day to do a series of lectures, so I left the kitchen.
Doyle never got up from his chair to see me out, but Joel was waiting at the door to wish me a good day. I didn’t feel the least bit in danger at that house, but maybe I should have. There was something very odd going on.
And at the center of it was murder.
Chapter Sixteen
I drove back to the mansion more confused than ever. Each of the vampires had accused one of the others of the murder, and I had learned nothing to make me to favor one theory over another.
After taking a quick look through Timothy’s things, I had found no evidence of why someone might have wanted to kill him. None of the vampires had been able to give me a reason either. They had said that he’d become more secretive recently, but no one could point to why.
I would have to come back and speak with Edmund when I got a chance. I would also have to tell Cookie that the case was complicated. Maybe she’d want to come with me on my next visit, and we could talk to Edmund together.
It was strange coming all this way without Lark and Pep, but they had pointed out that it might be more helpful if I came by myself this time, mostly for the vampires’ sake. All three of us asking questions might have confused the vampires as to which of us was actually the detective. I could always fill them in on the new details, such as they were, when I saw them.
Now I was in a hurry to get home. There was barely time for lunch before my date with Grant.
When I drove into the driveway I was surprised to see another car parked near the house. We didn’t usually have visitors during the day. If we were going to have company, my mom liked to let the rest of us know, but she had said nothing about anyone stopping by.
I got out of the car, hurried inside, and immediately heard voices in the Magenta Room. I went to investigate and had just reached the closed door of the dining room when an arm shot out of the darkness to stop me. I could tell from the bracelets around the wrist that the slender hand belonged to Lark.
She grabbed me and pulled me into the shadows. Pep was there waiting for me with a lopsided grin.
I raised my eyebrows, about to ask them what on earth was going on, but Lark shook her head to silence me and pointed to the wall. Then she pointed to her own ear.
We were supposed to listen.
Through the wall I could just hear a set of voices. The first was a high-pitched woman’s voice that I had never heard before.
“A matter of great importance. The supernaturals all agree that this is the best course of action,” said one woman’s voice. She sounded very pompous.
“I acknowledge that you think it’s important, but censorship has never been our way,” said my mom’s voice.
I glanced at Lark and Pep, still unclear about what was going on.
“We had a feeling you wouldn’t agree,” said another woman’s voice.
“I don’t agree because the Spooky Times is entitled to write whatever they want. If you must know, I have asked our in-house liaison to discuss the matter with them,” said Mom.
“You’re on speaking terms with Down Below?” the first woman’s voice was excited now.
“Of course we are, Gertrude,” said Meg’s voice, sounding tight. “They live in our building.”
A prickle of fear went down the back of my neck. I glanced at the hallway I’d just come down, but for once Cookie wasn’t there glaring at us.
“We aren’t here to censor the Spooky Times,” said the second woman’s voice. “We are here to censor you.”
All three of us pressed our ears against the wall.
But there was nothing to hear except silence.
Chapter Seventeen
We exchanged glances, but Pep and Lark seemed to have no more idea who Gertrude was than I did. All I knew was that she had just said something unforgivable. With that in mind, I pressed my ear even closer to the wall.
“What exactly do you think we need to be censored for?” my mom asked through gritted teeth.
It was so easy for me to picture her expression that I nearly felt sorry for Gertrude.
“And half of what the Times says is true,” Gertrude stammered.
“You and your family are out of control here,” said the other woman’s voice sharply.
“You’ve deduced that because of what’s been printed in some gossip rag?” Meg asked.
“Like Gertrude said, if any of it is to be believed,” said the second woman.
“Shouldn’t it have occurred to you to come here and ask us before just assuming?” my mom asked.
“We aren’t here to discuss it with you. We merely wanted to make our position clear,” said Gertrude.
“Your position is that you believe the Spooky Times and not me,” said my mom.
“Are you saying that none of it is true?” asked Gertrude, her voice dripping with skepticism.
“I’m saying that it’s none of your business whether it’s true or not,” said my mother.
“Of course it’s our business. How dare you say such a thing! We expect you to cease and desist this nonsense at once,” said Gertrude. “If we hear any more about it in the Spooky Times, you’ll be hearing from us.”
“Great. In the meantime, I’ll show you out,” said Meg.
There was a lot of blustering and muttering amidst the scraping of chairs. My cousins and I looked around frantically, concluding at once that the quickest way to get away was through the foyer. Unfortunately, that was open ground. I knew from years of experience of running away after having eavesdropped that open ground was risky business. The chances of being caught were much higher.
“Do we chance it?” Lark asked.
“I think we must,” I said.
And with that we took off. We would have been fast enough, too, except for a stroke of bad luck.
We were almost there when the door opened and Corey came through it, his brother behind him. They looked at us in surprise.
“Hey there. I was wondering when I’d see you all again. Busy morning?” Corey asked.
We skidded to a halt. I frantically looked past them to safety, but it was no use.
“It gets busier all the time,” said Pep.
“Jane? Lark? Pep? What are you doing here,” said Meg. “Hi Corey! Hi Kip.”
I closed my eyes briefly, then turned around.
The two women standing with my family were about how I expected them to be, since they looked exactly as they sounded. There was no way either of them was younger than seventy. They both had gray hair swept up on their heads, and glasses with thick lenses and red frames. They were both wearing dresses that looked like they had owned them for a long time and had been bought in a different century. The dresses covered their ankles and swept out in long skirts. One was purple, the other green.
When I glanced back at Kip and Corey to see how they were taking this, it was obvious that they hadn’t realized my mom had company. Corey’s mouth was hanging slightly open; he had never seen women who looked like this before either.
When my mother introduced us, Corey’s mouth snapped shut and he gave a little bow. Kip handled it a bit better and was more graceful than his brother. Then my mother turned to introduce the rude guests to us.
“This is Gertrude Hamm and her sister Greta Hamm. They are part of the Witches’ Northeast Representation League,” said my mother.
It was a light bulb moment for me; I had heard of this family before. They were part of a group that oversaw the running of the haunted house. It was easy enough to forget at normal times, but even though the mansion belonged to the Garbos, the fact that we had so many supernaturals on the property meant that we had to have witch and warlock supervision. It had always rankled Cookie, who, unsurprisingly, did not want to be supervised. Her absence just now was conspicuous but predictable.
“So pleased to meet you. I had no idea there were so many girls in the family,” said Gertrude, blinking and sniffing.
“I thought you oversaw all of it,” said Lark with a smile.
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