“I’m afraid so,” Miles replied gravely. “No, I’m entirely serious. Anika and I heard a scuffle inside the maze as we were walking by. We found the body inside. The police need to be summoned immediately, the murderer can’t be far away. Yes. There’s no question he was murdered. We were taking a walk before dinner, and that’s not important right now. Informing the authorities there’s been another murder, is. Alright. We’ll wait here.”
Miles ended their call, then turned and hugged me.
“He sounded stressed,” I commented, as I absorbed the scent of his aftershave, and focused on calming my own nerves.
“I fear we may be confined to our room, after this,” Miles replied.
“He should be grateful we provide such timely discovery,” I retorted. “As you said before, ignorance is not bliss when there’s a dead body lying around.”
“Not for long,” Miles agreed. “Edmund is stunned and overwhelmed at the moment, and understandably so. The Carlisle’s annual charity ball is turning into an episode of Murder, She Wrote.”
“I guess that makes me Angela, and you Lansbury,” I said.
“At the moment, I believe Edmund would agree,” Miles concurred. “And quite possibly, everyone else.”
“Forget everyone else,” I suddenly frowned. “Is Delacroix the guilty party, or is it someone else? We still don’t know for certain.”
“Then I guess we’ll just have to ask,” Miles replied.
Several sets of footsteps broke the silence, and a moment later we heard Sir Edmund calling.
“We’re here,” Miles called back. “Straight at the first branch, then right, left, then right.”
Within seconds, we were joined by Sir Edmund, footmen Edward and Tim, and furnace wrangler Jack. Their faces blanched unanimously, at the sight of Earnest Smith.
“What in blazes happened? Who is he?” Sir Edmund exclaimed.
“I don’t know, but I’ve seen him here before,” Jack replied in nervous excitement. “A plasterer he was, one of those as was renovatin’ the first floor, east. That’s him, I’m sure of it.”
“Jack is right, I do believe,” Edward confirmed. “I recall seein’ him, myself.”
“What on earth is he doing here, at this hour, getting himself killed?” Sir Edmund demanded of the universe at large.
We did not have to have an answer for everything. Even when we did, we did not have to answer.
“Anika and I were enjoying a walk in the topiary garden before dinner,” Miles said. “We saw a man enter the maze through the entrance on that side, after overhearing a phone conversation that’s best saved for the authorities. As we started back down the main road, we saw another individual turn left at the opposite end of the hedge. Not long after, we heard what sounded like a violent struggle, then silence, followed by rapidly retreating footsteps. We were very concerned someone was injured, and in need of assistance. We were determined to provide it, if we could. Unfortunately, his injuries were too severe. He was gone before we found him.”
That was it in a nutshell, and that’s what we told the police when they arrived. We also repeated the phone conversation we overheard.
A forensic team was called in, and dinner was called off, or significantly postponed, is more like it. Anyone who so much as saw a glimpse of Earnest Smith while he worked as a plasterer, was questioned.
Lady Carlisle spent a lengthy period of time with the investigator. She answered his questions truthfully, otherwise I would’ve heard it for myself. She looked pale and shaken afterward, when she joined the rest of those in the drawing room whom the authorities questioned, or wished to question. If I had to guess, I’d say she was at the top of their suspect list. That wasn’t right, because the only murder she was guilty of, was her son’s relationship with Ashley. But the investigator didn’t know that, and we didn’t have all the answers ourselves, or the evidence to prove it. But we would, because when there was a case put before us, there was always a way. We just had to find it.
The dining room was abuzz, as at long last, the manor’s guests were seated and dinner served. Darkness hovered thickly around Delacroix, though whether that was due to killing Earnest Smith in the maze, or his reaction to seeing Miles, I couldn’t say for certain.
After another visit with Marge earlier in the day, and an introduction to the rest of the kitchen staff, our minds were at ease. Dining at the manor was perfectly safe, on their end. If Delacroix sought to have his revenge against Miles by poisoning us, he’d have to seek an opportunity elsewhere. The plates holding the many courses were carefully watched over, and what’s more, identical. To ensure an individual received a particular plate was impossible. The only persons at risk when dining at Lady Carlisle’s table, were those with food allergies. Exceptions were not made, even there. With as many courses as were served, it did seem that anyone, regardless of food restrictions, should be able to find something. Although they’d have to figure out the ingredient list, by sight.
That wasn’t one of our skills, and the assurance of random food dispersion wasn’t good enough for Trixie. And so, she informed us that she would be joining us for dinner, in the capacity of food examiner. That was a little more assuring than I was comfortable with. We were assured nothing would pass to us that wasn’t entirely safe, but I was just as certain that some of our fellow guests would find their plates lacking a serving or two, along the way. Miles however, was satisfied in knowing Trixie’s nose was a sufficient instrument by which to gauge food safety. He was more concerned with protecting her from being poisoned herself, than he was over our table mates missing a few food items. So was I, but yikes! In the end, as Miles reminded me… it’s not like we could stop her.
Once again, I was thankful we didn’t have to have an answer for everything.
While Trixie busied herself sniffing, and sometimes sampling the food on the serving carts, I puzzled over how to strike up a conversation with Delacroix, and get something other than offended silence for my troubles. As I sat there, lost in thought, Sir Edmund’s voice filtered in. He sounded extremely irritated, as he glared intently at Delacroix. I had no idea what he said, but maybe Delacroix’s response would clue me in.
“There’s no need to take offense, I meant no harm,” Delacroix lied with an amused smile, as if Sir Edmund’s heated defense of Miles and me was an overreaction. “If your American cousins are such brilliant detectives as you say, surely I’m not the only one to wonder. When it comes to murder, it seems they do more discovering, than they do solving. I for one, should like to see them in action. So long as they stick to finding the solution of course, then please, be my guest.”
The look on his face said he thought he was taunting us, but instead, it was as though a light from heaven shone down, and lit the silver platter on which Delacroix handed over his own head. I took just a moment to savor it, then jumped in.
“I thought you’d never ask,” I replied.
“You poor, foolish man,” Miles said quietly, as he shook his head in pity, rubbed his forehead, and tried not to laugh.
Delacroix’s eyes blazed, and the darkness nearly engulfed him, but it was my turn.
“As even the most amateur of sleuths knows, the way to begin is by asking the right questions,” I said. “What interest do you have in Finn’s hybrids?”
My gaze was locked on Delacroix, but out of the corner of my eye, I saw every head turn from watching me, to look at him.
He appeared momentarily surprised, then managed a mocking expression.
“I would say I have none, but that would hardly be correct,” he replied loftily. “My interest, is in protecting the interests of Lady Carlisle and Sir Edmund, from being exploited.”
That was so not the truth! How nice that he phrased his answer in such a way. I got way more out of that, than even I expected. I quickly skimmed through what was revealed to me, and rolled with it.
“What is your relation to Bob Green?”
Delacroix’s smug expression froze
.
Lady Carlisle’s forehead faintly creased as she studied him.
“There is no relationship,” he declared.
“Not if he went directly to Lady Carlisle, and cut you out of the deal,” I replied.
Most of our fellow guests looked confused. Lady Carlisle’s eyes narrowed. Delacroix’s expression was now more stunned, than smug.
Since I asked no question, I didn’t bother waiting for an answer.
“What are your thoughts on the project to add ensuite facilities to the first floor east rooms?”
“My thoughts?” Delacroix managed to respond. Now he was confused.
“Your thoughts,” I replied. “Who stands to benefit?”
“The Carlisles I suppose, and their guests,” he answered.
“What was your relation to Gerald Abernathy?” I kept going.
“Relation—I have no idea, I never met the man,” he declared.
“Was the murder of Earnest Smith premeditated?”
“What? No! I mean, who? I never heard of the man!” Delacroix exclaimed.
“How long until Countess Grieve’s twenty-fifth birthday?” I fired back, because I did wonder, and that was sure to discombobulate him even more than he already was.
“A year from tomorrow, and what on earth does it matter?” he protested.
“You’d be surprised,” I answered. He’d also be surprised to know he had no idea when her birthday was. “How did you become acquainted with Earnest Smith?”
“I never knew the man!” Delacroix vehemently denied.
“Who else was involved in the plan to sabotage the renovation project?”
“What—I can’t imagine what you’re referring to!” he snapped.
“When did you become aware of the damage done to the manor?” I shot back.
“I haven’t an idea what you mean, I know nothing about any damage!” he insisted.
“Despite being the first to notice, and inform Lady Carlisle,” I replied,” and kept going. “Was the poor investment recommended to Lady Carlisle intended to weaken the Carlisle fortune?”
Delacroix stared. It seemed he was speechless, so…
“What was your association with Harry Price?”
“With—there was none!” Delacroix managed to exclaim.
“What was his purpose in entering our suite?”
“Purpose—I haven’t a clue!”
“Why was he determined to get the seeds Finn gave me earlier that day?”
“Why was—I’m sure I have no idea what you’re referring to!”
“How did the key come to be in his possession?”
“How should I know?” he snapped.
“I’m the one asking the questions,” I replied. “So answer.”
“I haven’t a clue!” Delacroix said irritably.
“Why was Harry Price in the greenhouse, the night he was killed?”
“I don’t know!”
“Was he murdered by the same man who killed Gerald Abernathy in self defense?”
“No—what? How should I know!”
“Who killed Harry Price?”
“I haven’t a clue!”
“Who buried him under the hybrid roses, which were cut down, carted off, and shredded earlier that day?”
“I’ve no idea whatsoever!”
“Hm. So you don’t know everything there is to know. Neither do I, but I know enough. By the end of tomorrow, I’ll know it all.”
“Know it—you know nothing!” Delacroix practically yelled.
“I’ll tell you a story, then you tell me if I’m wrong,” I replied. “There once was an unscrupulous man, who wasn’t satisfied by the riches he inherited. One day, after meeting a wealthy family and seeing all they had to offer, he devised a plan to acquire it for himself.”
“This is preposterous!” Delacroix snarled, then squeaked, then his eyes bulged, probably in panic at having his vocal cords arrested.
“This rich man prided himself on being smart, meticulous, and patient. He began by ingratiating himself to the family. He carefully crafted a relationship, and encouraged one to form between the son of the house, and the young girl for whom he was guardian. If the two would only cooperate, then he would gain access to two fortunes with one marriage, due to the unorthodox clause in her father’s will. He was assured of joint control over her estate, so long as she married before her twenty-fifth birthday. He was assured of a toe in the door of the wealthy family’s estate, so long as the son served as groom. But that, was not enough to satisfy. He wanted more, and he wanted it badly enough to sacrifice a portion of his own riches, to ensure indebtedness to him.
“Where there is no need however, there is no opportunity to rescue. And so, this meticulous, unscrupulous, patient rich man, carefully cast his net. A comment here, and a hint there, and the wealthy family was convinced that a partial renovation of their family home was in order, and what better company to handle it than the one he suggested. It did have an excellent reputation, and it was well deserved. There was one employee however, who for generous compensation, was willing to see that each finished section of pipe was left less so, before sealing the walls. It would take years before the damage would make itself evident, but the rich man was patient. It would take millions of pounds to repair once it was discovered, but he was willing to pay for indebtedness. And yet, there was a problem. The wealthy family was independent, proud, and well invested. There was the danger, and even the likelihood, that they would refuse any offers of assistance and see to repairs themselves. The rich man was unwilling to chance it, when talking up a poor investment opportunity offered such a simple fix. Pretending to invest heavily himself gave added confidence, and his goal was achieved. The family wealth was significantly reduced overnight. The rich man’s success was assured, and he looked forward with anticipation to inserting his shoulder firmly in the door. To that end, there were preparations to be made. He contacted Bob Green, a grower willing to pay handsomely for the rights to produce and market the hybrid roses on the family’s property. The rich man and Bob came to an agreement. He would ensure the less wealthy family would exclusively contract with Bob, in exchange for a cut from all sales.
“The rich man was prepared to draw in his net. He arrived at the less wealthy family’s house shortly before the massive annual charity drive they generously hosted. He was shown to his usual guest room, and it was simple enough uncovering the slow leak that festered silently behind the walls in the years since the pipes were installed. The damage was severe, the lady of the manor dismayed, and with that distraction, an engagement between the son of the house and the young woman was easy enough to arrange.
“But what the rich man didn’t count on, was that the son of the house might have an opinion of his own. He didn’t count on the lady of the manor contacting Bob Green herself, or that Bob would dare to make a deal without him. He didn’t count on the eccentric, yet brilliant, hybrid rose creator’s determination to ensure that no one would mass market his beloved creations. He did not count on Harry Price’s failure to acquire the seeds given to the less wealthy family’s American cousins, his failure to acquire the gardener’s seeds and record of pollen and seed parents, or that his hired henchman would end up dead, under a pile of what remained of every one of the manor’s hybrids. He did not count on the owner of the renovation company identifying the destructive employee, or that he would beat the rich man’s name out of him. He did not count on the owner ordering him to attend a late night meeting in the garden, under threat of exposure if he failed to comply. He did not count on the man’s intense rage, his refusal to accept a cut of any future gains, or that his attempt to defend himself, coupled with the rain dampened walkway would result in the owner’s death. He didn’t count on the news that the poor investment had a sudden and remarkable turn-around, and that the less wealthy family was now more wealthy than before. He didn’t count on the destructive employee demanding immediate payment, or in threatening to inform on him, but he d
id murder the man in cold blood.”
Now that I was through, I registered the utter silence in the room. The Carlisles, their guests, footmen, and butler alike were frozen, their eyes wide. Delacroix’s face was ashen, and his pupils dilated. I was a little concerned that Miles might’ve arrested more than the man’s power of speech.
Sir Edmund suddenly leapt to his feet.
“He didn’t count on the American cousins being absolutely brilliant, either!” he exclaimed. “Well done!”
I wondered if in Sir Edmund’s excitement over Delacroix being bested, he fully gathered the damage the man inflicted, and tried to inflict.
“Thank you,” I replied, rather than ask. To Delacroix I said, “So. Tell me, Françoise Delacroix. Am I wrong?”
Delacroix blinked several times, then felt his throat. He appeared to doubt his power of speech.
“This is preposterous!” he finally dared to protest. “Of course you’re wrong! You can’t prove any of this!”
“Is that because you’re innocent, or there is no proof?”
Because if that was the case, we’d need to call a certain toothed, antique doll back into active service.
“I’m innocent! Of course there’s no proof!” Delacroix shouted.
“Thank you,” I smiled. “That’s all I need.”
Chapter 24
“What was this Delacroix’s reaction after all that?” Xander wondered, as we sat in the living room of our suite at the Lodge, catching up after our very long evening. On the Isle of Camden, that is. The evening was just begun, here in Glen Haven.
“He didn’t settle on one long enough to register them all,” Miles answered. “Shock, fear, terror, confusion, anger, desperation, wariness, indignation… am I missing any?”
“If you are, then so am I,” I replied. “His expression vacillated rapidly. Ultimately, he settled on indignant wariness.”
“Anika proved to him that we know,” Miles said. “Lady Carlisle, as well. She spoke with us privately afterward, and asked if we had a way to prove it. By the end of tomorrow we will, and that’s what we told her. She’s satisfied with that.”
Ashes of Roses Page 43
