“Well, we don’t normally do this, but since the Donnerstags are an important contributor to our city, the Mayor insisted that I personally brief you about what happened,” Detective Hardcastle said. “I’ve also included Nolan and Bluebell at your request.”
“No objections there.” Brandon nodded. “We are so very lucky that you chose to be on this case, Detective. None of us would have known about Xander being Tiffany’s lover if it wasn’t for you.”
“Karma struck back at the villain this time,” Detective Hardcastle said. “I was simply at the right place, at the right time, or the wrong time, if you look at it from Xander’s perspective. As soon as I saw him, I knew something fishy was going on. The fact that Tiffany’s old flame was Nolan’s chauffeur, and pretending to not know her, set alarm bells ringing in my mind.”
“Yet what would any of us do in his position?” Bluebell asked. “He kept quiet because he was scared of just this, being suspected of murder.”
“An innocent man would have stepped forward,” Ray protested. “Xander is a killer, clearly.”
“It isn’t very clear to me at all,” Bluebell said. “In fact, I have a totally different theory.”
“Xander killed Kurt, and then Tiffany,” Detective Hardcastle said.
“Why?” Bluebell asked.
“Well, it’s obvious, he thought he’d get a huge chunk of money if Kurt died and he married Tiffany,” Detective Hardcastle said.
“True.” Bluebell nodded.
“He was at the karaoke place when Kurt was murdered. He had ample opportunity to slip peanuts into Kurt’s drink. Even a simple google search about Kurt would give him details about the peanut allergy.”
“Perhaps,” Bluebell said. “But please remember, Xander was the one who swept up the glass and had it sent for testing when Kurt died. Why do that?”
“Well, it was a perfect way for him to explain why his fingerprints were on the glass, I’m sure,” Detective Hardcastle said. “He knew that the police would examine the glass anyway. This way, he had a ready excuse.”
“Ah, but his fingerprints weren’t found on the glass,” Bluebell said. “Only Megan, Kurt and the bartender’s fingerprints were on the glass.”
“He was wearing gloves,” Nolan piped up. “I remember that now. Xander was wearing gloves. Part of his uniform as a chauffeur, you know!”
Detective Hardcastle frowned a little. “Well, that’s irrelevant—”
“It’s very relevant,” Bluebell said. “Because you’re arresting him for it! Why would Xander bag up the drink and hand it over to the police? If he was the murderer, it would have been easier for him to destroy the drink.”
Across the table, the Donnerstags looked at one another, speechless. Detective Hardcastle pressed a finger against her brow, and coughed. She stayed silent, however, thinking through what Bluebell had just said.
“One more thing,” Bluebell said. “Xander is supposed to have killed Kurt and Tiffany for money, but he wasn’t even married, was he! What was the point of killing Tiffany now, when all it would get him was an empty wallet?”
Detective Hardcastle had nothing to say.
“There’s a third thing.” Bluebell smiled. “The only people who knew about Kurt’s idiosyncrasies were his family. Every one of you knew that if tempted by a dish or cocktail he hadn’t tasted, he’d insist on the first sip.”
Everyone nodded. “That’s true,” Brandon said.
“Yet Xander couldn’t have known that,” Bluebell said. “So unless you think he was out to murder Megan for some reason, why would he put peanuts in that particular glass?”
“Why would anyone?” Wendy sighed. “I just don’t understand any of this.”
“I think I do,” Bluebell said. “In fact, there’s only one thing I don’t understand…”
“What’s that?” Wendy asked.
“I don’t understand what your scarf was doing at the scene of the murder!” Bluebell said. “It was hard to miss, a bright red scarf trapped under the chair.”
*****
Chapter 11
The Murderer Is Caught
The Donnerstags gasped as one. Megan half rose from her chair in horror.
Wendy, always dramatic, pretended to faint, and when she saw that nobody had believed it, she decided to act outraged instead.
“I’m horrified!” she exclaimed. “I demand, I demand a lawyer! I demand justice! This— this— horrible…witch…should be sued! How can she insinuate I killed my own father?”
“I’m not insinuating anything,” Bluebell said. “I’m just asking what your scarf was doing at the scene of the crime.”
“I’m wondering that myself,” Megan said quietly. “I always knew you were self-centered, mother, but I didn’t think you were capable of murder.”
“I didn’t commit murder!” Wendy said. “It was Xander. Surely it was Xander!”
“But I don’t think it was,” Ray said in a hard voice.
“No,” Brandon agreed. “It does look like it was you, Wendy, if your scarf was found on the scene of the crime.”
“Wait, all of you,” Nolan interrupted. “I don’t think it was her.”
“At last!” Wendy said. “Someone who believes me when my own family turns on me.”
“I’m not turning on you, Mother, I’m just—”
Megan was interrupted by Nolan, who said, “Wendy, you gave your scarf to Tiffany, didn’t you? I remember she was complaining about being cold.”
“I did,” Wendy said. “That’s it! That’s why it was on the crime scene.”
“Oh, of course!” Bluebell clapped a hand to her head. “I’ve been such an idiot. I forgot all about that. I was so confused about that one detail, but I suppose it was just a red herring.”
“You mean a red scarf,” Wendy said.
Despite the situation, Bluebell found herself laughing. “No. A red herring. Now that I can explain it, the rest seems so obvious. It’s a simple matter of deduction, isn’t it? Take away the lies and all that’s left is the truth.”
“I’m afraid we’re all still in the dark,” Wendy said. “Tell us who killed our father!”
“Well, let’s just look at the facts. There are two deaths here,” Bluebell said. “The first victim was Kurt, and the second Tiffany. Correct?”
“Yes,” Megan said impatiently.
“Kurt was allergic to peanuts, a well known fact. Kurt also tended to sip out of other people’s glasses. A fact known well within the family but not outside. Correct?”
“Yes!” The others exclaimed, even more impatiently.
“Now here’s what happened,” Bluebell said. “Or rather, here’s what I thought happened. Megan, who knew about her grandpa’s habits, decided to poison him. He’d found out that she was working for a high tech company that might potentially leave his own empire in the dust, and he felt duped. He threatened to cut her out of his will, and she had to kill him quickly before he did any such thing.”
“This is a horrible lie!” Megan pounded on the table. “Are you going to take turns accusing each of us, then?”
“Megan,” Nolan tried to pacify her.
“No, Nolan. Since the moment I’ve set eyes on Bluebell, I knew she was trying to steal me from you,” Megan exploded. “I was so angry that you were actually letting her live in your penthouse! How could you?”
“She’s my childhood friend,” a baffled Nolan said. “How could you feel jealous of her? I told you, it’s not like that with her and me. She’s like a sister.”
“Oh, please,” Megan said. “I hated her right from the start!”
“Is that why you’d scowl whenever you looked at me?” Bluebell asked. “I guessed as much. Don’t worry, Megan. Believe me, Nolan is blind to all other girls. He’s madly in love with you.”
“I don’t need you to patronize me,” Megan spat out.
“But you do need me to tell you how your grandfather was murdered,” Bluebell said. “Because he was murdered. By a most cr
uel and unusual person. A genius, really.”
“Who!” Megan exclaimed. “Just tell us who!”
“I will. But first, I’ll tell you how,” Bluebell said.
She waited for a calm to settle around the table, and continued. “You see, there’s a significance to the fact that it was your glass that was poisoned, Megan. That single action was a masterstroke. Pure genius.”
“Why?” Megan said tightly.
“Because it cast suspicion far away from the person who would otherwise have easily been caught,” Bluebell said. “Tiffany.”
They all gaped at her. Detective Hardcastle drew in a breath. “Of course!” she exclaimed.
“Tiffany was the one person who couldn’t have put those peanuts in, wasn’t she?” Bluebell asked. “Because everyone testified that she left even before the cocktails were ordered.”
“We all saw her leave.” Nolan nodded.
“Exactly,” Bluebell said. “Tiffany was a genius. You see, just the day before, Kurt was on the phone with her, yelling at her. He had found out about her and Xander. He was furious.”
“But… but there’s was just a marriage of convenience, wasn’t it?” Kurt asked.
“That’s what she told Xander,” Bluebell said. “I think Kurt considered it a real marriage anyway, even if he knew that Tiffany had only married him for his money. He expected a loyal wife and instead got one who was in love with someone else. He considered that a violation of their deal, and would have cut her out of his will.”
“My God.” Wendy gasped. “That makes sense.”
“Indeed. But Tiffany, smartly, probably placated him somehow, or asked him to at least stay calm until after his birthday party. That was the biggest mistake of Kurt’s life. He thought he could play cat and mouse with Tiffany, have her grovel some more. But with him so close to death, Tiffany couldn’t risk the will being changed. So, she asked her accomplice to kill Kurt.”
“Her accomplice!” Megan exclaimed.
“Yes.” Bluebell nodded. “She was very smart about it too. She told him that he should place the peanuts in your glass, Megan, so that the police would suspect you, once they found out that you knew your grandfather would take the first sip. Except that wasn’t her only intent. All along, she was plotting to simultaneously double cross this accomplice. She asked him to place the peanuts in your glass, so that she might later plant a seed that you were the intended victim all along. That way, the police would immediately know who to arrest. They’d arrest the man who would lose his position as CEO if you were named the heir.”
All faces turned towards Brandon, who remained calm, smiling at Bluebell and tapping his prosthetic hand on the table. “Is that so?” he asked. “Well, well, and how did you come to concoct this silly conspiracy theory?”
“Silly? I think it’s the only thing that makes sense,” Bluebell said. “I must confess I was fooled. I thought Megan had to be the one to do it, until I asked myself why Tiffany would write Xander a letter.”
Nolan raised an eyebrow. “She wrote him a letter to tell him that she would soon be his. What’s so unusual?”
“The letter itself is highly unusual,” Bluebell said. “Why on earth would she write it when she’d met Xander just moments ago? Why not just tell him?”
Wendy put a hand to her mouth. “Of course!”
“You guessed it.” Bluebell smiled. “It was written before the party, and I think Tiffany had second thoughts about sending it to Xander, not wanting to leave any proof. Unfortunately for her, Brandon, you found it.”
Brandon colored.
“You found it, probably in her suite that day, and you realized at once that Tiffany had double crossed you,” Bluebell said. “You fought with her and killed her, just moments before she could reveal you to Detective Hardcastle. That was the purpose of Tiffany’s question about fingerprints. She wanted Detective Hardcastle to realize that as the only person wearing a prosthetic hand, you were the man who put the peanuts in Megan’s drink without leaving any fingerprints!”
Brandon’s face went red as he flung himself across the table, trying to choke Bluebell.
“I loved her!” he shouted. “I loved her! Me! Not that alpha fool who thinks that he’s a macho man. I’m the one who loved Tiffany! I hated my father! All these years of slaving for him, and he decided to leave his company in Megan’s hands. Megan! Who doesn’t know up from down when it comes to business! I deserved that company! I was right to kill him! I’d kill him all over again if I could!”
Bluebell dusted herself off as Detective Hardcastle pulled Brandon roughly aside, and handcuffed him while reading him his rights.
Megan buried her head into Nolan’s shoulder, unable to bear the sight of her beloved uncle being taken away, while Wendy and Ray just stared in silence.
*****
Epilogue
“So it’s decided then?” Bluebell smiled. “A spring wedding?”
“If everything works out,” Nolan said with a sigh. “Life is really weird these days.”
“What’s it like when your fiancée is also your boss?”
“Hey, business partner, not boss!” Nolan grinned.
Since Megan took over as CEO of Donnerstag Co., she had bought a large amount of equity in Nolan’s company. For a period, she worked both as COO to Nolan’s company, as well as CEO to her own. In two months, though, they’d found a suitable replacement. Now, Nolan was preparing to soon launch his product, with the first stores that would host the technology being Donnerstag stores.
Nolan and Bluebell sat on the sofa that looked out over the Manhattan skyline, sipping a glass of wine each.
The door opened, and Megan entered with three cardboard pizza containers balanced in her hand.
“Yum,” Nolan said. “Hope you remembered to get ham and pineapple on mine.”
“Ugh, Nolan, I don’t know how you can eat that,” Megan said. “I got cherry tomatoes, spinach and feta cheese on mine.”
“Call me a true New Yorker then,” Bluebell said. “Because I have dibs on the pepperoni.”
Megan smiled, and handed them each a slice on a paper plate. “I hate cleaning up afterwards,” she said. “I use paper plates always.”
“You know what we should invent?” Nolan asked. “Plates that clean themselves.”
“I think you mean a dishwasher,” Bluebell said. “That’s already installed in your kitchen, Nolan, if you’d ever bother to cook instead of eating out.”
“One of these days I’m going to make you a five star meal right here at home,” Nolan said.
“Are you going to hire chefs?” Bluebell teased.
“How else would I do it?” Nolan laughed.
Megan smiled at them both, and turned to Bluebell. “Bluebell… Nolan and I both wanted to thank you.”
“Thank me?” Bluebell shrugged. “I’ve had the time of my life in NYC this last month. I’ve gone to museums, I’ve shopped for an entirely new wardrobe, and I’ve stuffed myself with food. I should be the one thanking you.”
“Come on, Blue,” Nolan said. “You know what we mean.”
“I honestly don’t.” Bluebell gulped down her last bite and then bid them both goodnight, escaping to her room. Megan watched her go with a fond look on her face.
“I can’t believe I was ever jealous of her,” Megan said. “I was such an idiot, Nolan.”
“What gives you the idea you’re not an idiot now?” Nolan nuzzled her ear. “Lucky for you, I love you anyway.”
Megan tapped him playfully on the nose. “After all we’ve been through, you better.”
“I do love Bluebell though,” Nolan said. “You were right about that.”
Megan froze, and stared at him wide-eyed.
“I love her for saving you from a life in prison,” Nolan said. “She’s the best friend I could ever have asked for.” He winked. “So traces of the jealousy still remain, I see!”
“Jealousy! You are just a jerk.” Megan batted at him again. “Jokes aside
, Nolan, I wish I could make her happy. She seems so carefree all the time, but somewhere inside, I feel like there’s a secret she isn’t sharing with us. A burden that makes her unhappy.”
“Well, what shall we do about it?” Nolan asked.
“Honestly?” Megan smiled. “I have a great idea. I’m going to ask her to be my maid of honor.”
“Do that.” Nolan nodded. “As for me, let’s just say I’ve invited a special guest to our wedding. If seeing him again doesn’t make her happy, I don’t know what will!”
The End
*****
As always, thank you for reading my book! I love writing the Bluebell stories and this was the best one yet for me since, as a New Yorker, it was so close to home! But, even more than writing the stories, I love interacting with readers who enjoy them! So, if you are among that group, please contact me and let me know! My info is on the next page!
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*****
One More Thing…
Murder In New York: A Paranormal Witch Cozy Mystery (A Bluebell Knopps Witch Cozy Mystery Book 6) Page 6
