by Sonia Parin
“The forensics team checked the mattress,” Joshua said following up on Abby’s earlier remark.
“You need to check again. According to Gigi from the spa, Marigold had complained of a rash for a while. Did you also test the rest of her clothes?”
Joshua nodded. “Every surface in her room went under the microscope.”
“What about the rest of the house?” Abby persevered.
Joshua’s eyebrows drew down.
“At a glance, I would guess Marigold spent as much time as she could away from the other family members. Her bedroom was her sanctuary. But what if the poisoned items were removed from the room? It’s a vast house.” Abby clicked her fingers. “The mattress smells new. What if the killer replaced her mattress with a new one?”
Wadsworth brought in the coffee and a platter of delectable looking chocolates.
“A magnificent meal, Wadsworth,” Charles said. “You should take yourself off to bed and rest up. A day at the spa might be just the thing for you tomorrow.”
Abby watched him leave. “Helen Forbes.”
“She’s at it again.” Faith grinned. “It’s almost as if she goes into a trance and becomes monosyllabic, leaving it up to us to join the dots.”
“When Helen Forbes showed me to the door, she turned and she moved her entire body.”
“And?” Faith prompted.
“And, it looked as though she had a stiff neck. Just like Wadsworth. I want to know how she got the stiff neck.”
“Or back,” Faith mused.
“Yes, or back.” Abby slid to the edge of her chair. “What if she put her back out pulling a mattress?”
“Helen Forbes,” Joshua murmured.
Abby nodded. “What do we know about her? Nothing. I fished around for information, but she gave me a few standard replies. Nothing revealing.”
Joshua checked his watch.
Abby imagined him thinking any action he took would have to wait until the next day. When he looked over at Sebastian, she thought he might also be wondering if Sebastian might be willing to facilitate another visit to the house without him trying to get a warrant.
Charles cleared his throat. “Is this where you shoot first and ask questions later?”
Abby thought about accusing Helen Forbes of killing her employer and imagined Helen delivering a deadpan response dismissing the accusation as pure and utter nonsense.
Faith said, “I’ve seen the guilty until proven innocent approach work on TV shows.” She looked up at Joshua. “Detective, would you be willing to admit you’ve employed the tactic?”
“No,” he said without blinking.
“I bet he has,” Faith whispered.
Excusing himself, Joshua strode out of the room to make a phone call. When he returned, they all looked at him with expectation.
Noticing their attention pinned on him, he said, “It’s worth looking into but it’s too late to do anything about it tonight. I’ve organized some officers to keep an eye on the place.”
Faith turned to Sebastian. “You’re a friend of the family, more or less. Are you going to tip them off?”
Abby silently groaned. She had to remember Faith had known Sebastian a lot longer than she had.
Sebastian took a sip of his cognac. “I don’t know if I should laugh at your audacity or fire you.”
Faith managed a small smile. “Oh, please don’t fire me. Do you have any idea how hard it is to get a job in this town? They’re as rare as the proverbial hen’s teeth. The only reason I landed this job is because my predecessor didn’t have any relatives to pass it on to.”
“If Sebastian fires you, it’ll be his loss and my gain.”
Everyone held their collective breaths and then, one by one, they looked at Charles who sat gazing at his glass of cognac.
Looking up, he smiled. “Well, it makes sense. Faith O’Keefe livens up the house and if I didn’t employ her, I’d never hear the end of it from Wadsworth. He’s become very fond of you.”
“Oh, how lovely.” Faith looked at Sebastian. “This is your chance to give me a raise.”
Sebastian’s eyes widened. “A moment ago, I think I was about to fire you.”
“Yes, but in this town the tables can turn very swiftly.”
Abby looked out the window. The gardens looked magical with the full moon casting a vibrant light over it. “What would I do with a mattress?” she murmured under her breath.
Hearing her, Faith murmured back, “I’d store it in the attic.”
“But for how long?” Abby leaned forward and clasped her hands. “At some point, the killer might realize the hiding place they used put them at risk.” What would the killer do then? “Think about it. This is a premeditated crime. They spent a great deal of time planning it and they think they got away with murder. The police have been through the house and found nothing. Suddenly, they return and ask to be shown the attic.”
Faith’s eyes widened. “It might not even be the attic. There are so many rooms in this house, the Winthrop house must have as many, if not more. The killer might have moved the mattress to the room next door.” Frowning, Faith asked, “Actually, why are we focusing on the mattress?”
“Because I think the killer hedged his bets. They poisoned the dress and, as a lead up, they poisoned the mattress. It’s quite smart. So far, we’ve been looking at anyone who might have come into contact with the dress. When, in fact, we should have been looking at Marigold’s bedroom. Every night, she would have absorbed a little bit more of the toxic substance. James said she came to stay two weeks ago. Ample time for the killer to put his plan into action.”
Charles cleared his throat. “So… Are you actually taking this seriously?”
Out of the corner of her eye, Abby saw Joshua give him a small nod.
As if that hadn’t been enough, Joshua added, “Abby’s instincts have been spot on. I’d be a fool not to follow up on it.”
“For once,” Faith whispered, “I hope you’re wrong because it’ll mean going home again.”
Abby sat back and stared out at the night sky. “Oh, something tells me you can’t really go home again.” In fact, something told her they’d be seeing a lot more of Charles Granger.
“Just set it down here.”
“Are you sure, Miss O’Keefe? Miss Maguire appears to still be sleeping.”
“Oh, never mind that. She’ll wake up soon.”
Abby felt a hand curl around her shoulder and shake her. “It’s morning, sleepy head. Rise and shine. You’re missing out on all the excitement.”
Abby pulled the pillow over her head just as the curtains were drawn and sunshine spilled into the room.
“There’s no use fighting it,” Faith warned. “I’ll just keep talking until you sit up.”
“I shall take Master Doyle outside for his morning walk,” Wadsworth said.
Abby groaned on behalf of Doyle. “All right. I’m awake.”
“You always say that and then you go straight back to sleep. Have some coffee. Charles received a call early this morning from Joshua. The police raided the Winthrop house.”
Abby sat up and accepted the cup. On her second sip, she managed to peel both eyes open. “You eavesdropped on a conversation?”
“As a matter of fact, when the call came through, I happened to be sitting across the table from Charles. If he’d wanted privacy, he would have taken the call in another room. Instead, he put the call on speaker.”
Abby smiled. “My apologies Miss O’Keefe. Should I expect to call you Lady Granger soon?”
Faith gaped at her. “What on earth possessed you to say that?”
Shrugging, Abby said, “You two look cute together.”
“Us? Us two?”
“You and Lord Granger.”
Faith snorted. “As if he’d ever… Well, he wouldn’t. I mean, why would he?”
“Because you brighten the house. I think you’ve made quite an impact on him. He’s probably wondering why he’s never noticed
you before. Actually, he might have noticed you but he might not have been free. Now, we know he is.”
“Oh, right. The Italian opera singer. I could never compete with that.”
“No one is asking you to. You only need to be yourself.” Abby finished her coffee and, before she could talk herself out of it, she sprung out of bed. “I’m going to shower and if I’m not out in fifteen minutes, feel free to pound on the door.”
Half an hour later, Abby strode into the conservatory where she found Charles and Faith enjoying a morning coffee and pouring over the newspapers.
Abby refrained from making the sort of remark that might embarrass her friend, but in her opinion, they cut a lovely picture of domestic bliss. Sparkly and affluent, she mentally added.
“Have you heard any more news?” Abby asked.
They both shook their heads.
Wadsworth appeared and prepared a plate for her. Abby had already suggested she could do it herself but he’d insisted.
As Abby made her way through a full English breakfast, she wondered how Joshua would get a confession out of Helen Forbes.
She had to be the culprit.
But what would be her motive?
“Did anyone establish how long Helen Forbes has been working at the house?”
Wadsworth cleared his throat.
“Do you have something to say, Wadsworth?”
“Yes, my Lord. I happen to know Helen Forbes began her employment with the family soon after Mrs. Marigold Winthrop’s marriage.”
Working for such a family, her credentials would have come under close scrutiny.
“Joshua should be able to confirm that,” Abby said. “He’ll want to know how Helen Forbes came to hear about the position.” Twenty years would be a long time to plan a murder. What had happened to set her off? Helen Forbes had come across as a loyal employee.
Yes, but… Loyal to whom?
Abby’s mind wandered but she managed to get through her breakfast. As she sipped a cup of coffee, her thoughts fixated on motives.
Had Marigold given Helen Forbes reason to kill her?
She shook her head.
“You look puzzled,” Faith said.
“From what I’ve heard, Marigold was a lovely person.”
Charles nodded. “Yes, everyone seemed to like her.”
Abby picked up her cell phone on the second ring. Looking at Faith and Charles, she said, “It’s Joshua. I’ll put him on speaker.”
Joshua sounded frustrated. Abby began to suspect he called when he needed to pull himself away from a dead end.
“What’s up, detective?”
“Helen Forbes has confessed.”
Everyone’s lips parted in surprise.
“I didn’t even have to try. We took her in for questioning and she broke down and told us how she used the formaldehyde to poison Marigold over time. She did her back in trying to hide the evidence. You were right, Abby. She tried to dispose of the mattress but only got as far as the room next to Marigold’s.”
“Did she say why she killed her?” Abby asked.
“No. She clammed up and demanded to speak with a lawyer.”
People didn’t kill for no good reason. Abby sprung to her feet and strode around the conservatory. There had to be a connection.
Twenty years.
Marigold’s life had changed when she married into the Winthrop family. She had achieved her goal. Had someone resented her success?
“She’s tossing around ideas,” Faith murmured. “We usually do that while standing in front of a whiteboard.”
Abby’s thoughts shifted over to practical matters. “I’d like to know where Helen Forbes got the formaldehyde.” Abby brushed her finger along her chin. Either the woman had resources they hadn’t thought about or… she had an accomplice.
Sitting down again, she poured herself a glass of water and drank deeply. Then she set the glass down and stared into space.
Yes, she had confessed. But what if she hadn’t? In order for the police to pin the murder rap on Helen Forbes, they would need to find a trail leading from the formaldehyde to Helen.
Abby heard Faith murmur but she’d become so absorbed in her thoughts, she didn’t quite make out what she said. Snapping out of her reverie, she asked, “What?”
“Faith noticed you were deep in thought and explained you were probably trying to figure something out.”
Abby looked at her glass. She’d drunk half the contents. She looked at the water jug and considered refilling her glass. Then a thought struck.
“Oh, she’s come up with a sparkly idea,” Faith murmured.
“Yes,” Charles agreed. “I can tell.”
Abby drank the rest of her water and said, “Neither the hospital or the funeral parlor reported their formaldehyde missing. They might have been checking for missing bottles. What if the thief only took what they needed and covered their tracks by topping up the bottles with water?” She turned to Faith. “Would you ask Joshua if he could organize some tests?”
“Where are you going?”
“I’m going to drive into town. I’d like to see if I can catch up with Laurie Meadows.”
“Why would Helen Forbes confess to a crime so easily?” The police hadn’t actually found anything to link her to the crime. Not even a reasonable motive.
Jealousy. Revenge. Greed. “What other reasons did people use to justify killing someone?”
Power. Fear.
“Insanity.” Would Helen Forbes cover for someone?
Huffing out her frustration, she pulled over on the side of the road and called Joshua. “Have you looked into Marigold’s finances?”
“I think I’d have better luck gaining entry into Fort Knox,” he said. “Harriet Winthrop is enraged and accusing us of police brutality and employing intimidating tactics. She refuses to believe someone in her household could be guilty of a heinous crime.”
“I think Helen Forbes is covering up for someone.”
She heard Joshua push out a hard breath.
“Walk me through your thinking.”
Abby nibbled her bottom lip. “Helen Forbes spent all those years working for Marigold. Why would she suddenly decide to kill her? It doesn’t make sense. I think I prefer any one of Faith’s long-shot ideas to this.”
“Are you about to suggest I hunt down an imaginary long lost daughter parading around as a boy?”
“Did Faith send you the message about the watered-down formaldehyde?”
She heard another long breath pushed out. “Yes. I’m looking into it.”
“Thank goodness for that. I thought you were about to say you had your confession and so the case had been closed.”
“Can I go now?” Joshua asked.
“I’m not checking up on Joshua.” Abby pulled up outside the local funeral home. She’d considered going to the hospital first but had decided it would be more difficult to talk to someone in charge there than at the funeral home.
“So, the funeral home it is.” As she strode toward the front entrance, she couldn’t help forming opinions about the people working there. When she caught herself in the act of stereotyping them, she excused it by saying she’d often been referred to as the snoopy reporter.
The funeral home foyer looked like an old-fashioned hotel lobby decorated with ferns and the style of carpeting that had been in fashion several decades before. The wood paneled walls cast a somber look. There were no pictures on the walls. Abby supposed the owners didn’t see any point in trying to cheer visitors up.
She waited several minutes for someone to come out. When no one did, she decided to poke around. She entered a room and saw caskets on display in various colors.
“Can I help you?”
She turned and saw a young woman dressed in a dark gray suit, her brown hair brushed back from her face.
Abby introduced herself. “Is the manager available?”
“I’m in charge here today.”
So much for stereotypes. She looke
d far too fresh and wholesome to be in the funeral business. Abby hated to admit it, but she had expected someone gaunt and slightly withered. Definitely someone older…
She decided to ease into a conversation and somehow work her way toward asking about the chemicals used for embalming.
“Are you making enquiries for yourself or a loved one?” the woman asked.
Abby remembered to blink. She didn’t have a name tag, and she hadn’t introduced herself, but Abby didn’t need an introduction to know her name.
“Myself. I’d like to be prepared.” She shrugged. “Just in case. One never knows…” Feeling a rush of heat settling on her cheeks, she turned and pretended to inspect one of the caskets. “Is that a feather pillow or polyester? Personally, I’m partial to something organic.”
“That could be arranged.”
“I don’t know much about the process but I’ve heard say everyone gets embalmed.”
“It’s common practice.”
Abby closed her eyes and focused on the image Joyce had shown her. She couldn’t be mistaken.
Laurie Meadows.
“This might sound strange… Do you use organic products? I’m not sure I’d like to be pumped full of chemicals.” She turned slightly. Abby stilled and, in her mind, two images interposed.
She pictured Laurie Meadows looking older, her posture stiffer.
What were the chances?
Laurie stood with her hands clasped. As Abby turned to face her, she released her hands and they fell by her sides.
Their gazes met and held. She knew Abby had recognized her but did she also know Abby had made another connection?
Abby decided she needed to leave. Right now, she thought. Instead, Abby murmured, “You diluted the formaldehyde.” In the next second, she recognized her mistake.
Laurie Meadow’s lips pursed. And that’s when Abby knew for sure she’d made the right connection but she didn’t get the chance to confront her because Laurie Meadows lunged for her and used the momentum to shove Abby against the coffin…
“Abby. Abby, can you hear me?”
“Yes, you’re coming through loud and clear. Ouch.”