The Cat's Paw Cozy Mysteries
Page 42
“You look like you’re about to perform surgery, not cook breakfast,” said Morwen.
“Better safe than sorry. Hygiene comes first at the Cat’s Paw, always.”
Fay put her usual batches of muffins on to bake. This morning she made two options - blueberry and salted caramel. Then she beat the eggs for Morwen and set the tables in the breakfast room according to the seating plan she had drawn up based on the guests who were currently in residence. She laid out the buffet with all the cereals, mueslis, fresh fruit, yoghurts, cold cuts and cheeses, and pastries that were offered every day.
Just before seven, she went back into the kitchen for her own breakfast. She and Morwen took turns to eat in the morning. Today, all she could face was some fruit and granola with yoghurt.
Morwen had just put a cup of coffee in front of her when there was a knock at the kitchen door.
Fay glanced at the clock. “Bit early for a delivery, isn’t it?”
Morwen looked out the kitchen window. “If all delivery staff were this good-looking, I wouldn’t mind some early morning interruptions.”
She opened the door to let David Dyer in.
“Morning, all. Sorry to come by at this hour of the morning, but I thought you’d want to hear the results of the tests I did on those homeopathic remedies.”
“Yes, definitely,” said Fay. “I’m all ears.”
His eyes landed on Fay’s face and rested there. His gaze was so intense that she felt her cheeks starting to pinken. Then he shook his head.
“What you are is very heavy-eyed. You don’t look well at all.”
Typical. He wasn’t gazing adoringly at her. He was noticing how ill she looked.
“I’m fine.”
“You are clearly not fine.” He came closer and ran his fingers along her jawline, behind her ears, and up and down her neck. His fingers were warm and dry, but she shivered anyway.
“Open your mouth.” He shone the flashlight from his phone into her throat. Then he picked up her wrist between thumb and forefingers and looked at his watch, counting her pulse.
“It’s just a viral cold, luckily. You should keep warm, try to rest, and drink plenty of fluids. You can take over-the-counter pain medication and decongestants to feel better.”
“That’s not going to happen,” said Fay. “The part about resting. I have too much on today.”
“People always think they’re too busy to rest when they get sick. The truth is that it would save this country thousands of lost man-hours and millions of pounds in medication if people would only stay home and get better instead of infecting each other.”
Fay pointed to the gloves and face mask she had discarded in order to eat her breakfast.
“That’s exactly why I was wearing those.”
He raised an eyebrow. “That’s a good start, but you would still recover more quickly if you stayed in bed today.”
“I can’t dump everything on Morwen while I tuck myself into bed. And besides, I want to go and see Lady Chadwick this morning.”
It looked as though David would continue to argue the point, so Morwen intervened.
“Have you had breakfast, David? You’re very welcome to a plate of the eggs and bacon I’m making.”
“I’ve already eaten, thank you, Morwen.”
“What about a cup of coffee then? Everyone has room for a cup of coffee.”
He smiled, unable to resist her charm. “A cup of coffee would be great, thanks.”
Fay finished her last mouthful of granola and reached for her own coffee. “You were about to tell me about the results of your tests before you launched into an impromptu consultation.”
“That’s right. The liquids turned out to be distilled water with a harmless food coloring added, and the tablets turned out to be inert sugar pills.”
Fay frowned. “So, he’s selling his remedies under false pretenses?”
“Not at all. Most homeopathy consists of water and sugar pills. According to homeopaths, the water contains a ‘memory’ of the substance that it once contained before it was diluted out of existence. That memory is supposedly powerful enough to provoke an immune response in the human body. There is nothing unusual about what Gary Malkin is selling. It’s exactly what I would expect a man like him to have in his store.”
“So, there was no raised level of arsenic or anything else that could have been the source of the poisoning?”
“Nothing that I could find.”
“I wonder if she was taking any other medication.”
“I phoned Sergeant Jones last night to ask him that exact question. Apparently, she wasn’t taking anything. She had no proper medication around the house at all. Not so much as a headache pill. The housekeeper Bertha has a small supply, but nothing more than what you would expect an ordinary person to have in their bathroom cabinet.”
“Then if the medication wasn’t the source of the poisoning, what was?”
Chapter 17
Chadwick Manor was one of the most beautiful buildings on Bluebell Island.
As the old green Volvo huffed and puffed its way up Chadwick Lane, Fay slowed down to admire the view. A sea breeze had washed away the bad weather of the previous day, leaving the island mild and pretty. The sky was the color of old denim, and rays of pale sunshine turned everything they touched to gold.
Chadwick Manor was a fine example of Georgian architecture and deserved to be one of the showpieces of the island. Instead, it was crumbling.
It made Fay sad to see the deterioration. She wished she could think of some brilliant money-making scheme that would save the historic building. Being turned into a B&B had saved Penrose House, but that wouldn’t work here. Lady Chadwick was too elderly and eccentric to manage a B&B. They would have to think of something else.
Fay had admired the view long enough. She touched the accelerator, intending to pull into the driveway of Chadwick Manor. It was at that point that she realized the Volvo had died again. At least she had pulled off the road.
Sighing deeply, Fay got out the car and gave the tires a kick. She knew it was herself she should be kicking because she still hadn’t taken it in for a service. At least David was nowhere around to witness her humiliation.
She trudged the rest of the way up to the house. The solid oak door was firmly shut as usual, so she pounded on it with her fist. The iron bell-pull and electric doorbell had long since stopped working.
She had to pound four more times before she heard the sound of distant footsteps. The door opened a crack and Lady Chadwick’s bony face peered out.
“Miss Penrose.”
“Sorry to disturb you, Lady Chadwick. I wanted to ask about the revolver you lent to the Playhouse.”
Lady Chadwick opened the door wide enough for Fay to fit in sideways. As Fay crab-walked in, Lady Chadwick batted at the air with her hands. Fay knew she was swatting away the electromagnetic waves that she imagined were coming from a substation five miles away.
Fay’s ankle caught on something warm and solid and she nearly tripped.
“Whoops. Is that Pebbles?”
She looked down and saw that it was indeed Lady Chadwick’s elderly pug. He seemed to spend most of his time sleeping. Whenever she could get him to show a burst of energy, Lady Chadwick took him shopping with her in the village.
Fay bent to rub his head and sides. “Sorry, Pebbles. I didn’t see you there.”
“You know I don’t have the revolver at the moment?” said Lady Chadwick.
“Yes. I imagine it’s still with the police?”
“That’s right. They can’t say at this stage when they will let me have it back. I keep phoning Ethel Jones to remind her that if anything happens to my revolver while it is in her son’s possession there will be hell to pay.”
“I’m sure he’s taking good care of it.” Fay hoped she didn’t sound as doubtful as she felt.
“If you are interested in anything to do with the revolver, you should really ask Sergeant Jones.”
Lady Chadwick laughed. “Well, of course, dear. What good is a gun without bullets? All my weapons are kept unloaded, naturally. But I do keep the ammunition for each one locked up safely.”
“I suppose Sergeant Jones has already asked you this?”
“Not at all, dear. Why would he?”
“Because someone was shot by…” Fay broke off. Lady Chadwick was too wrapped up in her own world to understand why it might be important to know where the bullet that had killed Mrs. Saville was normally kept.
“I meant to ask you, Lady Chadwick. Do you still carry your anti-fluoride and anti-gluten liquids around with you?”
Lady Chadwick believed that fluoride and gluten were poisoning the island’s water and food supply. She carried a concoction around with her that she sprinkled randomly into people’s drinks and on their food to ‘save’ them from the toxins. There had been a poisoning incident on the island just recently as a result of this habit of hers.
Lady Chadwick frowned as though Fay had started speaking in a foreign language. “What’s that, dear?” She gave a trill of laughter. “Goodness me, no. I gave that up ages ago. Young Dr. Dyer – the handsome one, you know – explained to me that it was all nonsense.”
“That’s good to hear. Would you mind showing me where you keep your ammunition?”
“With pleasure. I must just find the key. It’s months since I last entered that room.”
She went to look for the key, leaving Pebbles lying heavily asleep on Fay’s left foot. Ages seemed to pass as Fay stood in the drafty hallway, listening to the sound of Pebbles’ snores. Eventually Lady Chadwick returned, carrying a large iron keyring.
“I’m almost sure it is one of these.”
Fay slipped her foot out from under Pebbles and followed Lady Chadwick up the imposing staircase. Up and up they went, climbing flight after flight of stairs. Fay realized they must be going up Chadwick Manor’s front tower. It was the one odd architectural feature of the old house, having been added on by a Victorian ancestor who had loved fanciful, gothic touches like turrets.
You had to give Lady Chadwick credit. She was hardly puffing at all as she climbed the stairs.
“You can see why I don’t come up here often. It is quite a climb. And of course, I can never persuade Pebbles to come up the stairs these days. I even have to carry him to bed with me.”
They had reached the top. Lady Chadwick shook out the keys and started trying them one by one.
“The more modern ammunition is kept locked up in various safes. The antique bullets are kept behind glass in display cabinets. You’ll see in a moment, if I can only get this door open.”
Fay looked at the gap between the edge of the door and its wooden frame. There was no sign of a bolt connecting them.
“I think this door might already be unlocked, Lady Chadwick.”
“Unlocked? Ridiculous. Why, I locked it my…” She broke off as Fay reached past her and turned the handle. The door swung open.
Just as she had described, there were several wall-mounted safes that were still securely locked. Then there was a glass display cabinet with every kind of ammunition from ancient cannon balls to shot for hunting game, to rounds that would fit in the very first pistols. But that wasn’t what drew the eye. It wasn’t what made Lady Chadwick gasp in horror.
There was glass all over the floor. A hole had been knocked into the lower middle part of the cabinet, and whatever had been on display there was missing.
“Oh, dear…” Lady Chadwick touched a hand to her head and swayed. “I don’t feel at all well.”
Fay guided her to a leather ottoman in front of the cabinet and encouraged her to sit down. Then she took out her phone and began photographing the room, paying particular attention to the vandalism.
“Can you tell what’s missing, Lady Chadwick? Is it by any chance the bullets for the revolver?”
Lady Chadwick drew a shaky breath. “I’m afraid… I’m very much afraid that it is.”
“You say you last came up here a few months ago?”
“That’s right. A young nephew of mine was doing some clay pigeon shooting on the mainland. He came to borrow his grandfather’s gun and we walked up here to collect some boxes of ammunition for him. Everything looked just fine then.”
“You say you regularly have someone in to clean your guns?”
“That’s right. The man from Truro. He was here just a few weeks ago. He certainly didn’t come up to the ammunition room. He had no occasion to do so. Besides, I was with him the whole time. I like to watch him breaking the guns apart and cleaning them. I find it fascinating. Afterwards, I escorted him to the door myself.”
Fay looked around the room, reluctant to touch anything or even to walk around. This was a crime scene now and should be treated as such. She only wished that Sergeant Jones and Constable Chegwin would be half as careful.
“I’m going to name some people, Lady Chadwick. I’d like you to tell me if any of them has been in the house recently.”
She nodded. “Go ahead.”
“Mrs. Candice Saville-Wareham. She is Mrs. Saville’s married daughter.”
“Certainly not. I met her for the first time yesterday down in the village. I didn’t know her before.”
“Martin Trenowyth.”
“The vet? He certainly has. He is kind enough to pay regular house calls to treat my poor Pebbles. She suffers terribly from indigestion and his treatments are the only things that help.”
“What about Bertha Maidstone – Mrs. Saville’s housekeeper?”
“No, she…” She stopped. “Actually, now that you mention it, she was here a few weeks ago. Now, why? Ah, I have it. She came here collecting for the Sea Rescue Institute. I remember it took me ages to find my purse. She waited downstairs quite patiently while I searched high and low for it.”
“What about Gary Malkin?”
“I’m sure I have no idea who you mean.”
“The man who runs the holistic therapy center down at the docks.”
Lady Chadwick’s eyes lit up. “Ah, him! Yes, we have had several interesting chats about alternative medicine. He has never been to Chadwick Manor, except to deliver the remedies I have ordered from him. I know I promised Dr. Dyer not to dabble in such medications again, but that young man makes them sound irresistible.”
“As long as you’re not sprinkling anything onto other people’s food, I’m sure Dr. Dyer won’t mind.”
“Do you really think so? Perhaps you’re right. But in answer to your question – he has been to the back door, but he has never been inside the house.”
“What about Raymond Garver and Pippa Brand?”
“The amateur dramatic society people? I see them quite frequently. I am a patron of the Players Theater, so naturally we have regular meetings.”
“Do you hold them here?”
“Quite often, yes. They know I don’t like going out late at night, so they are quite agreeable about meeting here. The last time we met, which was about two weeks ago, Raymond positively insisted on coming here. He said it was no trouble for them to drive up to the Manor and that he knew I liked to be home at night by ten at the latest.”
Fay nodded. She tried to remember if there was anyone else.
“What about Mrs. Saville herself? Did she ever come here?”
Chapter 18
Lady Chadwick’s expression suggested that this was a ridiculous question.
“But of course, she did. You know what she was like. She had an opinion on everything. She was determined to help me save Chadwick Manor. She had an idea that I should open some of the rooms to the public, like a kind of museum, and possibly start a tearoom too.”
“That’s actually not a bad…”
“Isn’t that the most ridiculous thing you have ever heard?
As though any member of the public would be interested in seeing the inside of my old house.”
“Several of the owners of historic houses have done that and…”
“How do you feel about lions, Miss Penrose?”
“Lions?”
“And tigers. How do you feel about lions and tigers?”
“Uh… they are beautiful and majestic animals, but I wouldn’t want to get too close to one?”
“But you would like to look at them in a safe environment, wouldn’t you?”
“I guess so, but…”
“A safari park!” said Lady Chadwick. “We could turn the grounds of Chadwick Manor into a safari park.”
“With actual wild animals like lions and tigers?”
“Precisely. Isn’t that a marvelous idea?”
Fay was silent as she struggled to articulate what a very bad idea she thought this was. The woman who didn’t have the organizational skills to manage a B&B should definitely not be encouraged to let lions and tigers loose on her property.
“I think you shouldn’t rush into anything, Lady Chadwick. Maybe give some more thought to Mrs. Saville’s idea of opening a tearoom. Tea and crumpets are much safer than lions and tigers, aren’t they?”
“Perhaps you’re right.” Lady Chadwick appeared to concede, but there was a stubborn look in her eye that Fay didn’t like. It was time to change the subject.
“So, Mrs. Saville came here several times, along with the other people we’ve already mentioned. Any one of them could have caused this damage.” Fay gestured to the hole in the cabinet. “And any one of them could have gone off with the bullets. We’d better call Sergeant Jones now.”