by Morgana Best
Finn clutched his stomach and buckled over, laughing uproariously. “No! That’s hilarious! I gave her those diaries.”
I was puzzled. “You did?”
He nodded. “She loves watching TV. She usually only watches murder mysteries, but when the first season of The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina was on, she binge watched it. Around that time, she was looking for some diaries, so I bought her a bunch with Witch’s Dairy on the cover. She loves them.”
At least, that mystery was solved. “When Eli called my aunts horrible old witches last night, I thought there might be something to it.”
Finn shook his head. “No, Eli was nasty. He often called Demelza and Priscilla horrible old witches. It was his favourite expression.”
“But he seemed so mild-mannered.”
“He seemed that way,” Finn told me, “but he had a nasty temper. Oh, I don’t mean in the way that he got angry or yelled at anybody, but he would say really scathing, nasty things. He knew exactly how to press everybody’s buttons. He was a really nasty man. He was always cruel to Moxie Maisie. She couldn’t stand him.”
“That must have been hard for her, not being able to stand her mother or her stepfather,” I said.
He nodded. “Poor Moxie Maisie’s had it so hard.”
Gosh, this man was certainly delusional.
“Moxie Maisie has certainly had a hard life,” he continued. “When she suggested us all coming here for the Cluedo experience, I thought it would cheer her up immensely.”
“Oh yes, you said she likes murder mysteries,” I said absently.
“Yes, she’s completely obsessed with Cluedo,” he told me. “She makes me play it with her a lot.” He pulled a face. “And she’s made me watch that movie, Clue, with her about a million times!”
“Demelza clearly liked Cluedo too.”
“No, she’d never played it. Moxie Maisie is writing a book, you know.”
I nearly said I knew, but then I remembered I wasn’t supposed to be party to the information. “Oh really?” I feigned interest.
“Yes, she’s been doing a lot of research for it. It’s about the perfect crime. People think Moxie Maisie is just a spoiled brat, but she isn’t. She’s lovely to me, and she’s a very clever woman.”
And that’s when it hit me.
Chapter 19
It all added up. Why hadn’t I seen it before?
Moxie Maisie was the murderer.
The murderer knew how to play Cluedo. Demelza had never played, but Moxie Maisie was obsessed with Cluedo, according to Finn.
The candlestick, the lead pipe, the revolver. The murderer had used those Cluedo weapons. Rather, the murderer had used the candlestick and lead poison. As for the revolver, it was clear to me now that the whole attempted murder scene was a farce designed to implicate Demelza. And it had worked.
But Moxie Maisie had an accomplice, and it couldn’t be Finn. The two of them had been kissing noisily and at length directly in front of the security camera while Priscilla was being murdered. Moxie Maisie must have spotted the security camera earlier and carefully planted herself in front of it while Colonel Mustard was doing away with Priscilla.
Priscilla’s murderer had to be Colonel Mustard—there was nobody left.
Finn had just told me that Moxie Maisie and Colonel Mustard were good friends. Priscilla had treated Colonel Mustard badly, but that wasn’t sufficient motive for murder. My guess was that Moxie Maisie had offered him a cut of the inheritance money.
I stood up, grabbed my goblet of Witches’ Brew, and hurried into Mugwort Manor.
Half an hour or so later, I fetched my laptop and logged into the security system. I pulled up the log of when Moxie Maisie and Finn were kissing on the garden seat.
There was a knock on the door. I smiled. Just on time.
I walked down to the front door and opened it. Moxie Maisie and Colonel Mustard were standing on the front porch.
I stood aside and opened the door. “Come in,” I said. “Where’s Finn?”
“He caught an Uber to town to buy me some more chocolates,” Moxie Maisie said. “What’s all this about? You said it was urgent.”
“It’s about the murder, as I’ve already told you,” I said. “Come with me.”
She followed me into the dining room. “Where are your aunts? And your boyfriend?”
“They’re all in town for the morning. Take a seat, both of you.” I indicated they should sit in front of the laptop. I certainly wasn’t going to risk them standing behind me.
I started the video. “What’s this?” Moxie Maisie asked.
“It’s security footage from around the time your grandmother was murdered. You and Finn were sitting on the garden seat, kissing.”
Moxie Maisie nodded. “That’s right. The police told me you had this footage.”
“Yes, and at this point, you hear Colonel Mustard scream. You both get up and hurry towards the cottage.”
“What of it? My mother has been arrested for murder. Are you trying to rub it in?”
I leant forward a little and moved the replay to earlier. “And this is sometime before. You walked past the security camera and looked directly at it.”
“So what? It’s not a crime, is it?” she snapped.
“No, but murdering your grandmother and your stepfather is certainly a crime.”
Moxie Maisie jumped to her feet, nearly knocking the chair over in the process. “Are you mad? It was my mother!”
I took a step away from her. “No, it was you, Moxie Maisie. Whoever committed these murders is a Cluedo fan. Finn told me that you’re obsessed with Cluedo, but your mother had never played the game.”
“So what? That doesn’t prove anything.”
“It was easy for you to access your mother’s computer and order the lead acetate from her account online. It was also easy for you to plant the container of lead acetate in her cottage. And then there are your diaries, which you happily told the police about. You had spent some time and effort preparing to implicate your mother for the murder. And you staged the whole revolver scene to implicate Demelza. It seems as though you planned this ages ahead.”
“I don’t have to listen to this!” Moxie Maisie made to push past me, but I stood my ground.
She crossed her arms over her chest and pouted. “Nobody will ever believe you.”
“Why not?” I said. “The police haven’t arrested your mother. They only took her in for questioning, and I just had a call that they are about to release her.”
“You’re lying!” she spat.
I shook my head. “They don’t have any evidence against her, only your diaries and a poison which could easily have been planted–and was planted—in her cottage.”
“But I was on the security camera at the time Grandmama was killed.” Moxie Maisie jutted out her chin in a belligerent manner.
“That was obviously staged,” I said. “You were in it with Colonel Mustard. What did you offer him, half your inheritance?”
“I wish!” Colonel Mustard said. “She only offered me one million dollars.”
Moxie Maisie rounded on him. “Quiet, you old fool!”
“What does it matter if you admit it to this woman?” Colonel Mustard said. “Can’t we do away with her too? I’ll do it myself, if you’ll give me some more money.”
“Did you kill Eli as well?” I asked Colonel Mustard.
Moxie Maisie stomped her foot. “No, he didn’t. I had been poisoning Eli for ages, putting the lead acetate on top of his chocolate fudge brownies. He even went to a doctor who was too dim-witted to diagnose him with chronic lead poisoning.”
She snorted rudely. “I mean, he had all the symptoms: irritability, loss of weight, loss of appetite, hearing loss, abdominal pain, and so on. And then when this Cluedo holiday came up, I thought, what a marvellous opportunity! I could use the lead instead of the lead pipe, and I could get Frances to kill that nasty woman with the candlestick.”
“So, Frances kill
ed Priscilla by your instructions?” I asked her.
“Of course, he did. I’m the brains of the operation,” she gloated.
“Why did you pick up the candlestick?” I asked him.
He shrugged. “That was Moxie Maisie’s idea. She thought it would be a nice touch.”
I had no time to ask any more questions as Colonel Mustard advanced a step towards me. Gone was the bumbling, affable man. In his place was an apparition of menace.
Inspector Oakes and Inspector Mason jumped out of the tall maple wood cupboard to the side of the room and promptly arrested Moxie Maisie as well as Colonel Mustard, who was startled, to say the least.
“You tricked me!” Moxie Maisie said, aiming a vicious kick at my shin, but I was way too fast for her.
“Did you get everything you needed from them? Did they say enough?” I asked Inspector Oakes.
“Yes, indeed, thank you, Pepper,” he said. “When you called, I was most reluctant to go through with this plan of yours, but I must say it worked out beautifully.”
“Did you suspect Moxie Maisie?”
The detective tapped his chin. “I thought she was overly eager to implicate her mother. The diaries made me suspicious. And when I showed Mrs Miles the lead acetate, Moxie Maisie knew at once it was what had killed Mr Miles. She was either very quick-witted, or the murderer. That, plus the fact she was the heir, did indeed make her my prime suspect.”
I nodded.
Detective Mason was having some difficulty with the Colonel, who was trying to fight him off.
Lucas appeared and went straight to Detective Mason’s aid. The three of them escorted the two murderers outside. “We hid the police vehicle around the corner,” Detective Oakes told me. “Lucas, would you be so kind as to hold onto Mr Wiggenbottom-Higgenhouse the Ninth while Mason fetches the car?”
When Detective Mason left, Lucas shot me a significant look. I expect he was none too happy that I had put myself in danger.
“All’s well that ends well,” I said, shooting Lucas a big smile.
He simply frowned at me in response.
Chapter 20
Demelza and Finn were at the police station, giving their statements. The aunts, Breena, and I were sitting outside in the garden, trying to find some calm after the tumultuous last few days.
“Where is Lucas?” I asked the aunts.
They all exchanged glances. “He’s somewhere,” said Aunt Maude.
Aunt Agnes scoffed at her. “Really, Maude? What a silly thing to say.” To me, she said, “I don’t know where he is. I expect he’s busy.”
“Busy doing something very important,” Aunt Dorothy added.
Both aunts glared at her. “Well, why wouldn’t he be doing something important? The murders have been solved. He’s probably at his winery making Witches’ Brew. He hasn’t been there much lately.”
“I suppose you’re right.” Still, I felt Lucas was up to something, and the aunts were certainly acting strangely. I wanted to press them on it, but I knew that would only serve to make them clam up.
“We could have left it to the police, after all,” Aunt Agnes said. “Detective Oakes suspected Moxie Maisie all along, as it turns out.”
“Yes, but we were investigating because we were worried that the boarders might be witches or vampires,” I reminded her.
“We were also afraid they might be working for The Other,” Aunt Maude piped up. “We also thought that real estate agent might be working for The Other. They were our worst fears, but they were all groundless.”
Aunt Agnes nodded slowly. “Groundless fears, on all accounts. Fears usually are groundless, and one fear typically sets off more fears, compounding the issue.”
Aunt Dorothy patted Carey and nodded. “Often there is nothing to fear but fear itself. Fear can be so debilitating. I looked back at the times of my life when I feared the worst, and nothing ever came of it. Everything always turned out all right in the end.”
Everybody agreed with her, even Breena, who was actually sitting in a chair in a human pose for once.
“And what made you realise that Moxie Maisie was the murderer?” Aunt Agnes asked me.
I chuckled. “It was when Finn said Moxie Maisie was a huge Cluedo fan. I had a Jessica Fletcher moment.”
Aunt Dorothy set Carey down. He ran over to Breena’s feet. She pulled her feet away but didn’t hiss at him. That was progress.
“Fletcher?” Aunt Dorothy repeated. “Who is Jessica, and is she related to Demelza or Eli?”
Aunt Maude’s jaw dropped open, as did Aunt Agnes’s. “Dorothy, have you taken leave of your senses?”
Aunt Dorothy slapped herself on her forehead. “Silly me, Agnes! Their surname is Miles. Finn’s surname is Fletcher. Is he related to this Jessica person?”
“Of course, Jessica Fletcher isn’t related to Finn.”
“How should I know that, Agnes?” Aunt Dorothy said crossly. “They have the same surname, after all.”
I hurried to explain. “Aunt Dorothy, I meant Jessica Fletcher from Murder She Wrote. Haven’t you ever seen that show?”
Aunt Dorothy shot me a blank look, so I pushed on. “In Murder She Wrote, often somebody says something in passing, and Jessica Fletcher suddenly realises who the murderer is. It’s called a Jessica Fletcher moment.”
“I see,” Aunt Dorothy said doubtfully, tapping her chin.
I changed the subject. “I don’t think Lucas was happy with me for calling the detectives and setting up the scene to get Moxie Maisie to confess.”
“I’m sure he’s not angry with you,” Aunt Agnes said. “It’s peaceful, isn’t it, without the boarders. I do feel sorry for them.”
“What? You feel sorry for the murderers?”
“Of course not, Dorothy! I feel sorry for the victims.”
“But they’re dead!”
“I didn’t mean the murder victims, although I can still feel sorry for somebody who is dead,” Aunt Agnes retorted. “In fact, I do feel quite sorry for the murder victims. What I meant was, I feel sorry for Demelza in particular and also for Finn. Demelza’s mother was murdered, and her daughter was the murderer.”
“One of the murderers,” Aunt Maude said.
Aunt Agnes shot her a quelling look and pushed on. “Poor Demelza. My heart goes out to her. And Finn, finding out his fiancée is a murderer.”
“Perhaps he only wanted to marry her for her money though,” Aunt Dorothy said. “I mean, he obviously wasn’t attracted to her for her charm.”
We all shrugged. “We will never know his motives,” Aunt Agnes said.
Lucas appeared by my shoulder. “You’re talking about Finn?”
I couldn’t resist teasing him. “Yes, we were all saying how devastatingly attractive he is.”
I thought the aunts would back me up, but Aunt Maude said, “What? No, actually we were saying we didn’t know whether we should feel sorry for him, because he might only want to marry Moxie Maisie for the inheritance.”
“Why else would he want to marry that dreadful woman?” Lucas said with feeling. “Besides, he was always flirting with you, Pepper. An engaged man does not flirt with another woman.”
“He wasn’t flirting with me,” I protested.
Lucas shot me a dark look.
“Were you busy at the winery this morning?” I asked him.
He shook his head. “No, I was doing some things.”
“Things?” I repeated.
Lucas nodded. “Things. Is there a spare goblet? I could do with some Witches’ Brew.”
Aunt Agnes headed him a goblet, and he poured some Witches’ Brew into it. “Would anybody like some more?”
We all said that we would, so he set about refilling our glasses.
“You know, it’s quite peaceful without those boarders,” he said.
Aunt Agnes chuckled. “We were saying that just before you arrived. It’s always nice and peaceful without the boarders, but we need them to make money.”
“Money
you apparently don’t need,” I pointed out. “Here I was, worried I would have to start working in a café to make ends meet.”
“You weren’t really worried about that, were you?” Lucas asked me.
“Yes, I was. I was hugely relieved when Aunt Agnes told me they didn’t need to make money from the Bed and Breakfast business.”
“I expect we won’t be making any money from it for a while,” Aunt Agnes said. “Half the bookings have been cancelled.”
“Only half?” I asked.
“Maybe the people who haven’t cancelled haven’t heard about the latest two murders yet.”
Aunt Dorothy piped up. “I don’t know why people find murder so off-putting. It works for Midsomer Murders. How many seasons of that have there been? Eighteen? Thirty?”
“I have no idea,” Aunt Agnes said with a sigh, “and Midsomer Murders is fiction.”
Aunt Dorothy was still talking. “They have more murders than we have at the manor. It’s a wonder anybody in that small English town is still alive. And then there’s Aurora Teagarden.”
Aunt Agnes threw her hands up in the air. “What about Aurora Teagarden?” she shrieked.
“She investigates lots of murders, and people are happy about that.”
Aunt Agnes groaned and put her head in her hands. “This is real life, Dorothy,” she admonished her.
“I know that!” Dorothy said. “If it wasn’t, I’d be in the Magic Faraway Tree, eating toffee shocks, Silky’s pop biscuits, and Moon-face’s Google buns.”
“Dorothy, have you completely lost your mind?” Aunt Agnes shrieked. “You’re not making any sense at all.”
“I’m glad things are back to normal,” Lucas said to me, as the aunts continued to bicker. He lowered his voice and added, “Your eccentric aunts, your friend who is a cat shifter—all back to normal.”
I chuckled. “Who does have a normal life? What’s normal for all of us would be quite strange for other people. I’m sure that could be said for everybody.”
“That’s true. All people need are their friends and family. That’s what’s important in life.”
