by K. M. Waller
“Not our business,” I mumbled. As much as I wanted to have a chat with the newest Mrs. Spudson to go with my statements, she was far too inebriated to carry on a logical conversation.
Mrs. Spudson burped and giggled more. She waved a hand toward us. “Don’t tell the hubby. He doesn’t like it when I can’t act as proper as the woman who shall not be named.”
“The first Mrs. Spudson?” Marlin offered.
I shushed her.
“Insuff… Ansuff… why don’t my mouth work? Insufferable old hag. Glad she’s gone.”
Gérard hoisted her into his arms as if to save the woman from further embarrassment. “That is enough of this interrogation. I shall put the madam to bed now.”
“Night night,” Marlin called out after them. She checked the hallway, then turned to me. “Remind me when I get a mansion to get a Gérard too.”
My lips twitched and I couldn’t help but smile. “You’re so saucy sometimes.”
She did her signature hip wiggle. “Come on, hon. I spice up life.”
“We need to get back to Austin and organize the notes. Then maybe I can convince Mr. Spudson to drop this nonsense and let us go.”
A loud crash reverberated down the hallway. Marlin and I rushed from the staff’s common room toward the commotion. In the main foyer, Mrs. Spudson the drunk beauty queen picked up a large vase and tossed it at the portrait of the late Mrs. Spudson. It smashed against the wall and the pieces gathered on the floor amongst another pieces of broken glass.
Gérard hung back and spoke to her in rapid French. If she understood, she ignored him. “Nothing works the way it should, Gérard. Best laid planes… no… plans. That’s it. Or something.”
She picked up another vase and Marlin tossed me the writing pad.
“Hon, you will cut yourself with all that glass.” Marlin captured one of Mrs. Spudson’s wrists and wrapped an arm around her. “Why don’t you let me take you up to your room.”
Mrs. Spudson sniffled and nodded. Gérard took the vase from her hand and put it on a table.
“Does that happen often?” I asked.
He watched Marlin and Mrs. Spudson ascend the stairs. “What?”
“The drunken meltdowns.”
“She’s unhappy here.”
His words confirmed my strong theory that money didn’t buy happiness. “What did she mean by best laid plans?”
He jerked his head toward me, the frown lines around his eyes deepening. “I am certain I have no idea.”
I shrugged and flipped through the statements. “I guess if I’m stuck here until morning, I can wait to speak to her until then. Can you arrange that?”
“Are you as good as the other woman says you are at solving mysteries?”
“I’m a simple accountant who wants to go home. I’m not sure I’m good at anything other than organizing information.” I held up the pad. “But if I organize this enough, the sheriff should have no problem putting all the pieces together. If this is truly murder, the poisoner won’t get away with killing Charles.”
Gérard’s mouth tightened and his nostrils flared at the edges. An extreme reaction to my statement of making the investigation easier for the police.
I glanced up the stairs. Unless his overprotectiveness of the mistress of the mansion meant he knew more than he was telling.
He glanced at the pad again. “You have taken these statements from everyone?”
“Yes.” I pulled the pad to my chest.
He relaxed and smiled the same way he’d done when he’d offered us drinks earlier in the day. “What about the other waiter? Him?”
“Is he still here? I thought Craig said most of the staff had left for Picante.”
“I know for a fact he was asked to work on one of the monsieur’s many cars. He is also the manor’s mechanic. He told me he’d be in the far garage until late. We wear many hats here.”
“Which way to the garage?”
“It is underground. I will be happy to show you.”
An underground garage? Why wasn’t I more surprised? “Maybe I should wait for Marlin. She’s been taking notes while I ask questions.”
He tsked a few times. “Ah, but the madam is likely to show off her pageant trophies and you could miss your opportunity. I can take the notes for you.”
His turnaround with a willingness to help made me nervous. My instincts deep in my gut buzzed something was off almost like the time I’d woken up in the middle of the night to find a boy sneaking in Alicia’s bedroom window.
The mansion sat quiet. I patted the two-way radio for reassurance. Getting a statement from the other waiter could mean my ticket out tonight though. I gestured for him to walk ahead. “Lead the way.”
A single elevator door met us at the end of the staff corridor. Gérard pressed a button and a ding soon followed announcing the opening of the door.
“After you, madam.” The elevator only fit two people comfortably and Gérard and I stood shoulder to shoulder on the ride down.
Another ding let us know we’d arrived at our destination. I heard a crackle on the two-way radio and unhooked it from my pants as we stepped into the garage. I held it up to my ear but nothing else happened.
The underground garage housed a white Rolls Royce with mounted steer horns near the grill. A blood red BMW convertible sat beside it. Not a single bug splatter on either car.
“He will be in the back.” Gérard gestured toward the back of the garage. “I will hold the notepad and pen for you.”
I handed over the statement pad and called out, “Hello?”
My voice echoed off the walls. No one answered. Gérard flipped through the statements. He stopped and closed his eyes. “The platters,” he murmured.
“The judging platters? The ones you placed the competition brisket on?”
When he didn’t answer, I held up the two-way radio and squeezed the talk button. Before I could finish Craig’s name, Gérard slapped it out of my hand.
It hit the floor and burst in half, a good chunk of it sliding under the Rolls. I sucked in a sharp breath and met Gérard’s wild gaze.
Blessed be. I’m in trouble.
13
Gérard turned the notepad on its side and tried to tear it in half. When that failed, he ripped the top page. He crumpled it and took a step toward me. Then he threw the piece of paper, hitting me in the shoulder. It didn’t hurt, but I didn’t like it. He crumpled the next page and threw it.
I batted it away before it hit my chest. He’d said something about the platter. Gérard had been the last person to touch the platters with the brisket. “The poison wasn’t in the meat, was it?”
“You aren’t even supposed to be here,” he said and ripped another sheet of paper. “You and that weird woman who wiggles too much.”
“I’ll leave right now and I’ll take her with me.” I took a step to the left, and he did the same.
Instead of throwing the next piece of crumpled paper at me, he tossed it to the ground. “That stupid pig of a judge. Eating off of everyone’s plate.”
Gérard backed me further away from the elevator and into the darker section of the garage. The large sliding doors where the cars exited up ramps would be my only chance of escape if they weren’t locked. And if I could distract him. I hung on his every word looking for something.
“Charles didn’t eat off the right platter?” I shook my head. That didn’t fit. He ate off of everyone’s platter, he’d said. “Charles wasn’t supposed to eat off of the poisoned platter, was he? Who were you trying to poison?”
Gérard tossed the notepad to the floor. He’d backed me near a table with tools spread out on top. Before I could reach for one, he picked up an adjustable wrench. One of the biggest ones I’d ever seen.
He lifted it above his head and came down with a hard swing.
Just in time, I blocked it with my forearm.
The hard blow of the metal against my bone made me scream. There’d been a snap.
Tears filled my eyes,
clouding my vision for a few seconds before they spilled over onto my cheeks. I crumpled to the ground, cradling my broken arm. My ears rang. Mercy all. “You were trying to kill Mr. Spudson weren’t you?” My voice cracked with pain and more tears. I had to know the truth before he used the wrench on my head. “Because you’re in love with Mrs. Spudson.”
Love or money like my dad said.
The mention of love halted his assault. “There are better things than stupid love. If the pig man hadn’t choked, it could have taken days for the poison to eat monsieur alive. The police would’ve suspected all the contestants and they never would’ve gotten near the truth.”
“You don’t give the police enough credit.”
“They’re incompetent,” he said, and raised the wrench above his head.
I screamed and raised my one good arm above my head. “Please, I have two kids. I’m all they have left.”
A screech of fury sounded from behind us and through my tears I saw Marlin running full speed at Gérard. She leapt on his back and latched onto his hair. “Not today, Satan!”
Gérard dropped the wrench and pulled at her hands. “Get off!”
I used to table to help me stand and with one hand, I picked up the wrench. Gérard and Marlin twisted back and forth and when they turned to face me, I swung up with every bit of force left in me, hitting Gérard in the private parts.
He crumpled to the ground with Marlin still on his back. She pushed him down flat and put a knee in his back. “If you move, we will wrench your brains something good.”
My left side throbbed with pain. “How did you find me?”
“I couldn’t find you but Austin sure did. I came around the corner and he was in front of the elevator whining. That dog is fiercely attached to you, hon.” She patted down her bouffant with a free hand.
She stood and gave Gérard a kick to the ribs. “We’re going to the elevator now. Remember, you got your rear kicked by two women and one of them is one-handed. If you try to follow us out, we’ll tear you to shreds.”
Gérard grunted in response.
“I think I broke him,” I said.
“Good.” Marlin took the wrench from me and guided me to the elevator. “Craig was searching the other side of the mansion. He called for you on the two-way and when you didn’t respond, he got a little worried.”
We stood shoulder to shoulder in the elevator. “Gérard killed Charles.”
“I figured as much when he decided to put a wrench beat down on you.”
“I also think Mrs. Spudson is involved too, but I’m not sure on that one.”
She nudged me but not hard enough to hurt my arm. “You are a natural mystery solver. We should start our own private investigation business. Marlin and Beanie, P.I.s. You’ll be the brains and I’ll be the brawn.”
I burst out laughing and couldn’t hold back a snort. “That’s a good one, Marlin.”
She eyed me and shook her head. “Why are you laughing?”
We stepped out of the elevator to a confused Craig and aaroo-ing Austin.
“Are you okay? What happened down there?” he asked.
Marlin gestured over her shoulder. “Gérard is the bad guy. You might want to get to him before he takes one of those fancy cars. And call Doc to come out and patch up Beanie.”
Craig rushed past us into the elevator and barked orders into his two-way radio. Before I could count to five, three more Picante guards rushed through the corridor and to the elevator.
“Let’s go back to the pool house.” I clicked my tongue to get Austin to follow us. “I’d feel safer there and we can explain what’s going on to the rest of the contestants. I’m in so much pain right now.”
Marlin perked up. “I got a pill for that in the truck.”
I picked up my pace. “No way!”
Marlin chuckled. “We’ll see how you feel about that in another five minutes.”
I stopped and glanced down the hallway. “Should we wait on Craig to bring up Gérard?”
“What’s this now?” Mr. Spudson rounded the corner, the shadows under his eyes deepening.
Marlin jiggled with excitement. “Your waiter, Gérard, tried to blam-blam my best friend with a wrench. Craig is down there putting a good ole fashioned butt-whooping on him. He confessed to poisoning the food.”
He let out a slow steady breath and his shoulders slumped. “Did he say why?”
I cradled my arm, the pain making it hard to think. “I hate to tell you this Mr. Spudson, but I think your wife had something to do with it. They might have been after your money.”
The elevator dinged. Craig and another guard got off with Gérard between them. Each man held onto one of his arms.
I backed up a step, not wanting to be near the man who’d attempted to disable me. Then it hit me. That man had tried to make my children orphans. Over money, no less. He’d ruined Charles’ family and to cover that mistake up, he would’ve ruined mine.
I stopped Craig. “No. I want to hear him say it again. He needs to confess to Mr. Spudson what he tried to do.”
Gérard’s gaze flickered over my shoulder to where Mr. Spudson stood behind me. He raised an eyebrow and gave a slight nod. “It’s true. I put the poison on the plate.”
Craig let go of Gérard and gently moved me to the side. “Why don’t you wait for Doc in Mr. Spudson’s office? After he tends to you and I deliver Gérard to the sheriff, I’ll come fetch you.”
Mr. Spudson cleared his throat. “I’ll escort you to my office.” He gestured up the stairs. “Craig, have one of your men bring the sheriff deputy back to properly arrest my wife when she wakes from her hangover. A co-conspirator in this ordeal, I’d think.”
Marlin tugged on the sleeve of my good arm. “I’ll tell everyone in the pool house what’s going on. I’ll meet you back here in a few. I’ll leave Austin with you.”
Austin and I followed Mr. Spudson through the maze of hallways to his office.
“Why don’t you have a seat in my chair, Ms. Beanie. It’s more comfortable.”
The over-stuffed leather chair engulfed me and I adjusted to sink further into it. Austin nestled close to my feet.
Mr. Spudson moved the Sherlock Holmes book and sat. He leaned an arm on the table with all the confiscated rat poison and Marlin’s gun.
I let my gaze roam over the top of his desk. The picture he’d adjusted earlier had been of Mrs. Spudson number one. I glanced around the office. Not a single picture of wife number two. Karen mentioned that she hardly spent any time in the mansion.
A weird thought popped into my head. “Didn’t you say Gérard is your valet?”
His head jerked. “Huh, I guess I did.”
I licked my lips. My entire arm had gone from throbbing to light pulsing to numb. Not a good sign. I worked my brain for a distraction. “If Mrs. Spudson is never here, and he’s with you, then I wonder when they had the time to hatch the plan to kill you. They must have been planning this for some time.”
Mr. Spudson stood. “What are you getting at, Ms. Beanie?”
I sighed and closed my eyes. “I don’t know. I guess I’m trying to make it all add up. It seems they both had a pretty good setup already. I don’t get why they’d put that at risk to kill you.”
“You are one smart lady,” he said, his voice tight.
I heard a click and opened my eyes. Mr. Spudson stood over me, Marlin’s pistol cocked and pointed in my face.
My lips quivered. All the numbers finally added up. Gérard had never said that his accomplice was Mrs. Spudson. He’d only admitted to setting up the poison. “We had it backwards didn’t we? You and Gérard were trying to get rid of your wife. The poison was for her.”
“You are the twist of fate I didn’t plan for this weekend, Ms. Beanie. No amount of money or sending you on a wild goose chase worked. If only that boy had kept his cool.”
I thought it’d been about an affair. My mistake for assuming the worst of the younger woman. “What’s in it for Gér
ard? Even without my interference, the possibility of him getting caught was statistically high?”
“He’s got a Cayman bank account full of millions and my best legal team to make sure he doesn’t spend over one night in jail. Plus, I own the evidence. I own everything.”
“You don’t own me.”
“Get up.” He used the end of the pistol to gesture for me to stand. “Move it.”
I stood. Austin snorted and rolled onto his back, blissfully unaware of the danger. Good. I didn’t want him to follow me this time and get hurt. “Where are you taking me?”
“To see my worthless second wife.” He raised an eyebrow. “I think she will shoot you before killing herself. The thought of going to jail for her failed attempt to murder me is more than she could bear.”
My eyes watered. “You’ll never sell that lie.”
His chest bounced with a chuckle. “I can buy and sell whatever I please, little lady. I’m that rich. It’s perfect she’ll use your friend’s gun since all mine are locked up in a safe. Convenient, indeed.”
I’d been right all along. He was a madman with more money than sanity.
He backed me into the hallway. I took the smallest steps manageable in a sorry attempt to slow us down. “Why not just divorce her? Why do you have to kill her?”
“She’s bleeding me dry with her drinking and vacationing in Bali for months at a time. Without a prenup, she’d clean me out in a divorce.” He butted me with the end of the barrel. “It seemed a lot more fun to get rid of her this way. Now quit stalling and get upstairs. First door on the left.”
I counted each step as we ascended the stairs. One… two… three…
The house stayed eerily quiet with the guards dealing with the contestants and Gérard. Halfway up, I turned and willed Marlin to come through the front door. When we reached the top—twenty stairs total—I said a silent prayer that she’d look after my babies after I was gone.
Mr. Spudson opened the door and pushed me inside. My eyes blurred with the tears I held back and all I could see was that the room’s colors were different shades of blue and green.
A toilet flushed to our left and Mrs. Spudson stumbled out of her private bathroom. She tripped over her high-heeled shoes and toppled to the floor in a heap. She hadn’t seen us standing there. A light snoring soon followed.
