by Morgana Best
“I’m not hungry,” Barnabas said in rather a snappy tone.
I grabbed his elbow and hauled him to his feet. I thought I might as well tell it like it was. “Lunch is not the only reason. My aunts want to ask you some questions. I suggest you come with me, if you know what’s good for you.”
Barnabas stared at me with wide eyes. “All right, but I won’t eat anything. I have plenty of allergies.” He grabbed a nearby bottle of water and followed me out the door.
Aunt Dorothy greeted us at the back door to the manor, beaming from ear to ear. “Barnabas, how good of you to come.”
I waited until we were all in the formal dining room before I spoke. “Lucas just tried to strangle Barnabas.”
Aunt Dorothy bit her lip, and then said, “Well, I suppose he had a good reason, dear.”
I was surprised by her words, but we wouldn’t be able to discuss it, not until Barnabas had left. Aunt Agnes showed Barnabas to his seat, a seat which no doubt had calamus and liquorice root sprinkled under it. “Do you want to call the police and tell them that Lucas tried to strangle you?”
Barnabas shook his head. Aunt Agnes poured him a glass of wine, being careful to flash the Ichor winery label in front of his nose first. Despite his protests about allergies, Barnabas drained the goblet in one go. Okay, so then he was a vampire. At least, it was sure looking that way.
A heavy silence hung over the group for a moment. I stifled a nervous laugh. The scene looked like something from a horror movie, a drab, musty formal dining room with an oversized chandelier hanging over the centre of the table, the thick drapes over the windows obscuring the bright midday sun. The only light was from the highly polished silver candlesticks at both ends of the long dining table. The room usually smelt of dust, although today, it smelt of Solomon’s Seal root and bay leaf, with just a hint of liquorice.
Aunt Agnes leant forward. “Barnabas, did you know that Collier Cardon was a good friend of mine?”
He squirmed in his seat.
“We know that you and Collier spoke last weekend. Collier was murdered, and an attempt was made on my life. Did you have any involvement in that?”
Barnabas looked shocked. “Of course not!” he snapped. “How dare you accuse me of murder!” He clutched his water bottle to him.
“Are you related to Collier?” Aunt Agnes asked him.
Barnabas continued to squirm in his seat, but he did not answer.
“Are you going to take Collier’s seat on the Council?”
Barnabas gasped. “All right then, if you must know, Collier told me that his life was in danger. He told me he narrowly missed being the victim of a hit-and-run last month in Paris, and he was sure someone was after him. He told me to be very careful and not to let on that I was related to him.”
“So you didn’t kill him?” I asked him.
Barnabas rounded on me. “I did not!” he screeched. “I’m against the faction just as much as Collier was.” He pointed to Aunt Agnes. “Collier told me that you’re on the Council.”
Aunt Agnes was visibly angry. “He had no right to do that. We have to keep the identity of the Council members a closely guarded secret.”
“He only did it for your own good,” Barnabas snapped. “He thought something was going to happen to him, so he wanted to make sure his line of succession was against the faction. He wasn’t taking any chances. That would keep the Council safer.”
“You’ll have to be mighty careful now, Barnabas,” Aunt Agnes said. “Someone might know that you’re going to succeed to Collier’s position on the Council.”
Barnabas held up both hands. “Well, duh! Your other guest already tried to kill me. He has vampire strength, so he’s obviously a vampire. He must be part of the faction, and he’s probably the one who killed Collier and tried to kill you.”
Aunt Agnes and I exchanged glances. Had Lucas tried to kill Barnabas as part of his Cleaner duties? After all, I had only just told Lucas that Collier and Barnabas had spoken in private the previous weekend. Yet why try to poison Aunt Agnes? Surely Lucas couldn’t do a thing like that.
Could Lucas be part of the faction? It seemed unbelievable, yet only a few days ago, I would not have believed that Lucas would kiss another woman.
“Is there anything you’re not telling us, Barnabas?” I asked him. “Anything at all?”
Barnabas shot me a spiteful look. “My affairs are none of your business, girlie. I’m sure there’s plenty I’m not telling you, and I intend to keep it that way.”
He was getting on my nerves, so I was pleased when Aunt Agnes took over the conversation. “Did you tell anyone else that I am a Council member?”
Barnabas was clearly affronted. “Of course not! What do you take me for? An idiot? Still, I don’t know who Collier told.” He smirked at Aunt Agnes.
What an unpleasant man, I thought. I can’t see how the other Council members are going to put up with him. And was he lying about not being a member of the faction? He would hardly confess to that.
“Let’s discuss this at length,” Aunt Agnes said. “Would you like some lunch, Barnabas?”
Barnabas waved one hand at Aunt Agnes in dismissal. “I have to be careful what I eat. I have allergies.” He opened his bottle of water and took a long drink.
“What about salad?” Aunt Dorothy asked him. “We grow it ourselves. Tomatoes, lettuce, and all sorts of lovely salad vegetables.” Her hand flew to her throat.
I looked back at Barnabas. It all seemed to happen in slow motion. He clutched his throat, and then fell to the floor, thrashing violently.
CHAPTER 12
I pulled my phone from my pocket and called emergency for the second time in two days. “Ambulance and police,” I said. “Hurry! I think he’s been poisoned with 1080.” I gave the address, but Aunt Agnes took the phone from me and hung up.
“It’s too late,” she said.
I averted my eyes. “So he wasn’t the murderer, after all,” I said. “He was Collier’s successor, and now he’s been poisoned, too. I thought he was the murderer.” I could hear my tone rising to one of hysteria, but I didn’t care. Barnabas wasn’t the murderer, so who did that leave? Lucas? I had seen him with my own eyes trying to strangle Barnabas.
“He was an unpleasant man, but he didn’t deserve to die.” Aunt Dorothy was addressing a substantial antique bronze of Botticelli’s Venus on a huge marble plinth. “Agnes, you’re rather scantily dressed. You had better put on some more clothes before the detectives get here. Otherwise, it would be most unseemly.”
Aunt Agnes sighed, but ignored Dorothy. “Let’s all go into the living room and leave this poor man and his poisoned water here for the detectives,” she said. “I’ll call them now.”
Aunt Dorothy and I walked together to the living room, while Aunt Maude put wine goblets and a bottle of Witches’ Brew on a tray. Aunt Agnes soon followed us in. “They’ll be right here,” she told us.
“There’s something I’ve been keeping from you all,” I confessed. Before they could ask me any questions, I launched straight into it. “Collier mumbled a couple of words before he died. He said ‘Beware of Lucas’s…’”
“Beware of Lucas’s what?” Aunt Agnes asked me.
I shrugged. “That’s just it. I don’t know if he was saying ‘Beware of Lucas,’ or ‘Beware of Lucas’s something,’ because that was right when he died.”
“And you kept this from us for what reason?” Aunt Agnes asked me. I did not detect any note of reprimand in her tone, but I felt guilty nonetheless.
“I just didn’t want to get Lucas into any trouble,” I told her. “I told Lucas what Collier said.”
Aunt Agnes quirked one eyebrow. “And how did he respond?”
“He was quite weird about it,” I admitted. “He said he was working on something quite secret. I’m sorry I kept it from you all.”
“No matter.” Aunt Agnes waved her hand expansively. “We keep things from you all the time.”
Now that I had
said that, I thought I might as well come clean. “And that’s not all. Last night, I saw him kissing another woman at the art gallery, at the exhibition.”
All the aunts gasped. They were clearly more horrified by that than by the report of Lucas trying to strangle Barnabas. “Perhaps he’s working undercover,” Aunt Maude said.
“More like under covers,” Aunt Dorothy said with a giggle, but she was silenced by a withering glare from Aunt Agnes.
Aunt Agnes poured some Witches’ Brew into the goblets. “Valkyrie, you need to speak to Lucas. Ask him what’s happening.”
“I’m embarrassed to admit I saw him kissing that woman,” I admitted.
“There are more important things to worry about,” Aunt Agnes said. “You need to ask Lucas what’s going on. Two people have been murdered, and there was the attempt on my life.”
I was shamefaced. “You’re right. I’ll ask him.”
We looked at each other as we heard sirens rapidly approaching. “I suppose I shouldn’t tell the police that Lucas tried to strangle Barnabas?”
Aunt Agnes shook her head. “No, we’ll deal with this ourselves.”
I sipped Witches’ Brew and reflected upon Lucas and his goings-on. Was there a good reason for him kissing that woman and for him trying to strangle Barnabas? I wanted to think so, but then again, I had tried to talk myself into men in the past, ignoring all the red flags and dismissing their bad behaviour. Even if Lucas was working undercover, he kissed that woman a little too thoroughly. He was clearly enjoying himself. Then again, the light was dim—maybe I had been mistaken about that?
I shook my head. Aunt Agnes was right. I’d have to come straight out and ask Lucas what was going on. If he was involved with that woman, then I would know for sure one way or another. There was no point going on with false hope.
Detective Oakes and Detective Mason took no time in arriving. Aunt Agnes at once escorted Detective Mason to the kitchen to show him the hapless Barnabas Butler and his poisoned water.
Oakes flipped open his notepad. “What happened?”
I was the first one who spoke. “The aunts asked me to invite Barnabas for lunch. He said he had allergies and couldn’t eat, but he came for lunch anyway. He brought a bottle of water with him.”
Oakes looked up. “That was the bottle that poisoned him? Are you sure?”
We all nodded. “Yes, he didn’t eat or drink anything from the manor,” Aunt Agnes said. “Only the wine, and we all drank wine from the same bottle.”
I nodded in agreement. “He brought that bottle of water from the cottage, and that’s the one he drank from.”
“Was it full, half full, nearly empty?” Oakes asked us.
“I didn’t take much notice, but it looked full to me,” I told him. “Barnabas always had a bottle of water with him. He took one everywhere.”
Oakes scribbled in his notepad. “Was anyone else at the manor today?
“Not that we saw,” Aunt Agnes said.
“Did Barnabas Butler have any guests to his cottage at any point? Have you seen him associating with anyone?”
We all told him that we hadn’t.
“And you haven’t seen anyone else hanging around the manor?”
We all shook our heads.
Oakes looked exasperated. “I have to get witness statements from you all, but for now, is there anyone else you can stay with? Relatives in another town, perhaps?”
Aunt Agnes appeared to be aghast. “Do you mean we should leave Mugwort Manor? Our home?”
“Only for a short time. It would be the sensible thing to do,” Oakes said. “Two people have already been murdered here, and there was an attempt made on your life.”
Aunt Agnes’s lips pressed into a gesture of resolve. “I’m not leaving my home, Detective. We have new locks on the doors and we won’t open the door to anyone we don’t know.”
Oakes ran his hand through his hair. “I don’t want to frighten you, but it’s likely that the murderer is someone you do know. I will have a uniformed officer drive past here at intervals, but if someone is really keen to get to you, then there’s nothing we can do. It would be best if you all go away for a week or two until we solve this case.”
“Do you have any suspects?” Aunt Agnes’s lips pursed once more.
Oakes sighed. “No, but we’re working on it.”
“I’m afraid we’re going to have to stay here. Isn’t that right, Dorothy and Maude?”
Dorothy and Maude agreed, and I did too, albeit reluctantly. I really didn’t want to stay where there was a homicidal maniac running around. Sure, Aunt Agnes said that I was in no danger as I was not in a position to succeed to the Council, but what if the murderer didn’t know that? My hands trembled, and I set down my goblet of Witches’ Brew.
Oakes looked most displeased. “Please tell me you’ll consider it.”
Aunt Agnes shook her head. “No. Thank you for your concern, Detective Oakes, but we’re staying put.”
Oakes looked as though he wanted to argue with her, but thought the better of it. “All right then, if you insist, but it’s against my better judgement. At any rate, your dining room will be out of bounds for a day or two.”
Aunt Agnes waved one hand at him. “That’s fine. We rarely use it, anyway.”
“And I’ll ask one of you to accompany me to the victim’s residence.”
“Sure,” I said. “I’ll do that now.”
Detective Oakes followed me out the back door. I diverted my eyes as the paramedics wheeled out Barnabas. I hurried past them and opened the back door for Oakes. He didn’t speak on the way to Barnabas’s cottage, but when I stopped to open the gate, he exclaimed, “You’re kidding! This cottage?” I nodded. “This is the same cottage where Paul Williams was murdered, isn’t it?”
I had to admit that it was.
“There sure have been a lot of murders at this place. It’s unusual to have so many murders in a small country town, let alone at the one establishment.”
“I suppose you’ve never watched Midsomer Murders?” I said, trying to inject a little levity into the situation.
Oakes clearly was unimpressed. I opened the door for him. He walked inside, pushed past several potted palms and tall yucca plants, and then pointed to the zebra and lion wallpaper. “Who is responsible for this decorating?” It sounded like he was asking who had committed a crime, and then again, maybe he was.
“My aunts,” I said. “I’m redecorating the cottages bit by bit, but I haven’t got as far as this one yet.”
“Obviously.” Oakes looked around the room once more. “Miss Jasper, has Mr Butler had any visitors since he’s been here?”
“Not that I’m aware of,” I said. “Not unless you count the cleaning lady, Bella Barker. She does the cottages once a week, and of course she cleans them between guests.”
Oakes nodded. “All right, then. Would you wait at the door for me? I’m going to have a good look around.” He pulled some gloves from his pocket and snapped them on.
I had only taken a couple of strides when he called me back. “Was Mr Butler always so messy?” He pointed to papers on the floor and an overturned chair.
I schooled my features into an impassive expression. That must have happened when Lucas and Barnabas were struggling. “I don’t know,” I said carefully, although my heart was beating out of my chest. “I never came in here.”
Oakes simply nodded and turned away. I exhaled slowly and quietly, and walked to stand by the door.
What was I doing anyway, trying to protect Lucas? For all I knew, he had killed both Collier and Barnabas. Still, I could hardly tell the police. Even if Lucas was part of the faction, then clearly Aunt Agnes, as a member of the Council, wanted to deal with it.
Oakes didn’t spend long looking around the cottage. “Let’s go back to the manor,” he said to me. “I’ll send the forensics team in here now.”
An incoming text vibrated the phone in my pocket. I pulled it out and looked at the screen. It
was Linda, asking me if I could come to her motel as soon as possible. I have something urgent to tell you, the text concluded.
CHAPTER 13
I called Linda briefly on the way to the police station and said I would call by her motel after we had given our witness statements. Linda was shocked to hear that there had been another murder.
“This is getting to be a habit,” I said dryly, as we climbed out of Aunt Agnes’s car.
“Let’s hope this is the last time,” Aunt Agnes said.
I turned to look at Aunt Agnes over the top of her car. “Are you sure it’s safe for you to stay at Mugwort Manor? I mean, I know you don’t want to go, but there have been two murders so far, and you’ve already been threatened. Well, more than threatened—someone has already tried to kill you! Should you get away, to Europe, somewhere like that? Perhaps go and meet with the other members of the Council?”
Aunt Agnes shook her head. “These days, we can all talk on Skype. We don’t need to meet in person anywhere near as often as we did in the old days.”
I could see there was no convincing her.
“Valkyrie, have you called Lucas yet?” she asked me.
I slapped myself on my forehead. “Oh, I forgot.” I pulled my phone out of my jeans pocket, but Aunt Maude called out, “Valkyrie!”
I followed her gaze to see Lucas striding up the street towards us.
“We’ll go and leave you to speak to him in private,” Aunt Agnes said.
“No, wait!” Too late; they were already halfway to the police station’s entrance.
I reluctantly turned to Lucas. “Pepper…” he began, but I interrupted him.
“Barnabas Butler was just murdered. We’re here to give our witness statements.”
Lucas did a good job of looking surprised. It was quite an Oscar-winning performance, actually. “You’re kidding! How did he die?”
“Well, he wasn’t strangled to death,” I said snarkily. “After you tried to strangle him, he came to the manor for lunch.”
