Murder by Arrangement (Edna Davies mysteries Book 5)

by Suzanne Young

  “Oh, my goodness, I think I’m beginning to regret getting involved with the Becks.”

  Edna was surprised at the irritation in Irene’s tone. It took a lot to rattle this mother of four, but she did sound annoyed. “What’s happened?”

  “Rosie has apparently decided to take Lettie to her grandmother’s, first thing in the morning. Talk about a ping pong ball. I don’t know what’s going on with that woman. Tomorrow is Valentine’s Day, the day she’s been working toward for weeks. Now, it sounds like she’s skipping out on her employer, only to take her daughter back to her grandmother’s. Just the reverse of what she did a few days ago. Why would she remove the child, leave Lettie with me during the day and then suddenly turn around and take her back to Lily?” Irene paused to take a deep breath before adding. “If that child doesn’t become neurotic in the next few years, it won’t be her mother’s fault.”

  “Do you think Rosie’s been fired?” Edna was as surprised and concerned as her daughter-in-law sounded.

  “Maybe after the big day, but certainly not before. This seems like very erratic behavior, Edna. I’m worried about Lettie and the effects on her. What should I do? What can I do?”

  Edna was wondering the same thing. “I’ll visit Lily tomorrow. I want to talk to her again anyway, so maybe I can learn what’s going on.” She ended the call soon thereafter and headed for the grocery store.

  For the rest of the day, Edna busied herself cooking and straightened the house, so she wouldn’t sit and ruminate on Albert’s health or Rosie’s strange actions or Louise Callahan’s revelations. While a chicken was simmering, preparatory to making soup, she puttered around the house putting away her knitting, music discs and books. Beverly and Junie of Housekeeper Helpers would arrive in the morning to clean, so Edna got rid of any clutter that might be in their way. She then made cranberry cake, a favorite of Albert’s. She thought the homemade soup would not only be comforting, but would also ward off any cold or flu bugs that might be hanging around in his body after a dunk in the ocean. She planned to pamper her husband when he got home, and maybe he’d feel mellow enough to allow her to make a doctor’s appointment for him.

  Benjamin followed her around the house, inspecting her work and, occasionally, undoing her straightening with a swipe of his paw to a tatted doily on the arm of a chair or a stack of papers on the desk in the office. Edna indulged him with a chuckle as he finally settled on a cushioned chair in the kitchen to watch as she deboned the chicken.

  The antics of her cat and the chores kept Edna’s mind occupied for several hours. With the work done, in the late afternoon, Edna poured herself a glass of wine, lit a small fire in the hearth and settled in her favorite chair with her notebook. It was time to concentrate. She had written down several questions earlier in the week, when she’d been sitting in the mall parking lot, hiding from John Forrester. Now, she wanted to review and update her notes. She wanted to be prepared to press Lily tomorrow. Edna was convinced the woman knew much more than she’d admitted.

  By now, Edna was as certain as she could be that Gregory Haverstrum had been poisoned, and most likely, the substance he’d ingested was ranunculin. Clem Peppafitch had the bloom of a Christmas Rose clutched in his hand at the time of his death. Coincidence? She was beginning to doubt it very strongly. She may be accused of watching too many crime shows on TV, but Edna was convinced he was trying to tell them something.

  Charlie reported that Clem had died of an overdose of digitalis, but Peppa said he wouldn’t have taken the drug. Why not? Could he, too, have been poisoned?

  Edna made a mental note to corner Peppa that evening at Mary’s and find out why she disagreed with the medical examiner’s conclusion. Through online research, Edna had learned that the symptoms of too much digitalis in the body can cause confusion and impair vision. That would be precisely why Clem looked to be stumbling and disoriented, as if he were drunk.

  Thinking about some of the other plants she’d seen in Lily Beck’s garden, Edna went into her office and scanned through Mrs. Rabichek’s journals. She stopped speed-reading and carefully re-read the information on Pieris japonica, more commonly known as “lily of the valley shrub.” She looked particularly at the red notations, Mrs. Rabichek’s color coding for warnings. “Mad honey” made from the plants can cause cardiac arrhythmias, mild paralysis, convulsions. Also, muscular weakness, impaired vision. Serious cardiovascular effects: bradycardia, hypotension (caused by vasodilation), atrioventricular block. May be lethal.

  Carefully returning the journal to its place on the shelf, Edna went back to her seat by the fire. She speculated. If Clem felt his heart going into overdrive, he might have taken digitalis to slow it down. Maybe he panicked and took too much. She already knew that the symptoms of the overdose would make it appear as if he were drunk. Had he been trying to get away from the Beck house and seek safety with Peppa? If so, why?

  And what about the “mad honey” Edna had just read about. According to Mrs. Rabichek’s warnings, that would also slow one’s heartbeat. Lily had said she’d stopped keeping bees because of the potentially tainted honey. Had she kept some from that one year’s harvest?

  Quite a lot of what Edna was finding circled around to Lily, but what about Rosie? Certainly she had as much access to the garden as did her mother, and she must also be knowledgeable about all sorts of vegetation after working in a nursery.

  I wonder. Retrieving her small notebook, Edna played with her pencil for a few minutes, idly and almost subconsciously sketching the blossoms of the Christmas Rose. Why had Clem been carrying a rose? Had he been planting so simple a clue?

  Edna suddenly wanted to discuss the idea with Charlie. She pushed herself out of her chair and almost ran to her office. He must meet her at the Beck house tomorrow.

  Receiving no answer from the detective’s cell phone, Edna figured he must be working and unable to pick up her call. She left a message and, wanting to be certain he knew how important her request was, she phoned the station and left the same message with the man on duty.

  “Yes, ma’am.” He’d be sure to deliver the message to Detective Rogers. “Urgent. Yes, ma’am.”

  With a sigh, Edna hung up the phone. That was all she could do tonight. In another couple of hours, she needed to be at Mary’s. After a light supper and a short nap, Edna was ready to face the evening ahead.

  “No, Benjamin. I want you to stay here in the house,” she said to the ginger cat before she stepped outside the back door and waited for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. Clouds obscured the moon, so there was hardly any natural light to guide her, but the temperature seemed almost mild. She switched on the flashlight she’d taken from a shelf in the mudroom. From the dimness of the bulb, she could tell the batteries were low, but she didn’t want to take the time to go back for new ones. Certainly, they would last until she crossed to the neighboring house.

  Plodding carefully over the uneven lawn, Edna saw light coming from Mary’s kitchen. Tuck and Peppa must have arrived. As Edna reached the barway in the stone wall between the properties, her flashlight went out. Stopping to shake the heavy metal tube, she was rewarded with a faint glow. The moment she lifted her head to continue her walk, she saw a light go on in Mary’s attic.

  “They’ve started without me,” she muttered, but before she could take another step, the upper story went dark. Odd, she thought, staring at the top floor of the house. She started forwarded again, mindful of her footing, but looked up sharply when light again appeared in the attic window. It’s as if someone were turning on a three-way light, she thought, watching the brightness grow in stages before being extinguished again.

  Picking up speed, she hurried as fast as she dared across the rest of the lawn, hardly noticing that her own light had gone out as she reached the packed-dirt driveway and along to Mary’s back door. When she passed the kitchen window, she saw all three women in the room.

  So who would be upstairs in the nursery? Edna wondered.

&nbs
p; She entered the back hall, left her coat on a peg near the door and went through into the kitchen, surprised not to be greeted by Hank or Ink Spot. The thought of Mary’s pets vanished from her mind as she moved into the kitchen and spotted her neighbor. “Who’s in your attic?”

  She’d apparently startled Tuck and Peppa who spun around at the sound of her voice. Mary had been leaning back against the counter, facing the door. She frowned. “What do you mean?” Then, realization seemed to strike as her expression changed from confusion to excitement. “What did you see? Did you see my ghost?”

  “There’s a light going on and off in your attic. Do you have a lamp on a timer? If so, there must be a short in it.” Edna had reached what she thought was a sensible answer, if there was nobody else in the house.

  “Don’t have anything up there on a timer,” Mary insisted. Still looking happily excited, she said, “Let’s go see.”

  Tuck’s eyes had grown wide and she was beginning to look nervous, but Peppa seemed as eager as Mary. “Lay on, Macduff, and damned be him who first cries Hold! Enough!”

  “Do you think you should be quoting Macbeth?” Tuck asked in a low, shaky voice. “Isn’t that bad luck?”

  “We’re not in a theater,” Peppa retorted.

  “Hush. Don’t want to scare ‘im,” Mary hissed, even though nobody had yet left the room.

  Edna felt the urge to laugh aloud at the drama played out by the other three, but bit her tongue so as not to offend her friends. But really, this is too comical, she thought. Following the troupe toward the living room and the front stairs, however, she had to admit to a prickling sensation growing between her shoulder blades.

  The back stairs were closer to the kitchen, but the front ones provided a more direct climb to the nursery side of the third floor. Mary led the way and Edna noticed that each of the women carried flashlights. Imitating the slow tiptoeing of her friends up the wide staircase, she suddenly wished she’d taken the time to replace her batteries. Still, she held the heavy metal tube in her hand, in case she needed to defend herself.

  Mary halted on the third-floor landing and waited outside the nursery until the women all stood together.

  “Open it,” whispered Peppa.

  As Mary reached for the knob, a ribbon of light appeared in the crack beneath the door. She jerked her hand back as if she’d been burned, and the women all stared as the radiance brightened and then disappeared. In that brief instance, Edna saw everyone’s eyes were as large as hers felt. She was wondering if their spines were as tingly as hers, too, when the sound of pattering feet sounded from the other side of the flimsy wooden door. Whatever made the sound was running away.

  Peppa nudged Mary’s upper arm with her flashlight. “Go on. Open it,” she repeated her earlier command. “We’re right behind you.”

  Again, Edna felt the urge to laugh, but bit down hard on her lip. It was more of a nervous reaction than comic now.

  Reaching out hesitantly, Mary took hold of the knob, twisted and thrust the door wide. She pushed so hard, the door banged against the wall and bounced back, slamming shut. In the second or two that the door had been open, Edna hadn’t seen anything ghostlike.

  “Oh, phooey,” Peppa said. Elbowing Mary aside, she grabbed the handle, opened the door and walked into the room. The others followed with Edna bringing up the rear.

  As soon as she moved to stand beside Tuck, Edna saw the flash of eyes an instant before they disappeared. Mary must have seen them, too, because she directed the beam of her light across to the far wall from where faint scratching noises emanated. She was just quick enough to catch two tails disappear behind a wooden chest, one white and the other black. At once, Mary reached to the side and tapped a floor lamp, turning it on.

  “A touch light?” Edna guessed.

  At Mary’s nod and sheepish look, Edna began to laugh. She couldn’t hold it back any longer and neither, did it seem, could the other women. Even Mary joined in.

  When they finally had control of themselves, the quartet moved as one to the trunk.

  “My toy box,” Mary explained.

  The scratched and battered container, looking much like a storybook pirate’s chest, stood next to the two steps that led up to the storage room door and about five inches out from the wall.

  Leaving enough room for the rounded lid to be lifted, Edna mused. Putting her hand on a back corner, she pushed the chest askew to see where the cats had gone.

  “Forgot about that space under the stairs,” Mary said, bending over the trunk. “Help me move this,” she said to Edna. “I want to get those cats out of there. Can’t imagine how they got up here in the first place. I left ‘em in Father’s room.”

  Peppa also helped to shove the trunk farther from the wall, allowing the women to examine the hollow area beneath the stairs, but no cats were to be found. Instead, when Mary crouched down to shine her light in the hole, she spotted an opening in the rear panel.

  Sounding slightly panicked, she sputtered, “They’re in the wall. They’re gonna get stuck.”

  “Nonsense,” Edna said, putting a hand on Mary’s shoulder to calm her. “If the noises you’ve been hearing have been those cats all along, they must have found a passage from your father’s room. You said there was a secret staircase somewhere in the house. I think we’ve just found it.”

  “Exciting,” Peppa said. “It’s what I love about these old places. Full of nooks, crannies and secrets.” She gave a hoot of laughter. “Let’s go see where they’ve gotten to. Your father’s old room, did you say?”

  When the women reached the floor below and entered Mr. Osbourne’s former bedroom, Auntie Bea was sitting in the middle of a braided run, watching sedately while two half-grown kittens, one black and the other white, tumbled and wrestled before her.

  Peppa ignored the antics as she looked around the room, focused her eyes on the right-hand wall against which stood a canopied antique bed. “Must be here,” she muttered, getting down on hands and knees and throwing back the spread to shine her flashlight underneath. Seconds later, she lifted her head, eyes glowing with triumph. “Yep. It’s here all right. Paneling’s been pushed aside. Bet you never noticed it was slanted cause of the fabric behind the headboard. When’s the last time you took that down to have it cleaned?”

  Mary scowled, obviously offended. “Get’s done every year.”

  Edna spoke up in Mary’s defense. “If I know kittens, they probably found a weak spot in the wood and played with it until it broke loose.”

  Mary brightened at the idea. “Yes, and I bet Auntie Bea helped so she could follow her charges when they disappeared.” Turning to look fondly down at the Maine Coon, Mary explained to the others in the room, “She’s fiercely protective of Snowball and Charcoal.” Speaking to the other women, she said, “I’d better close that up before they get stuck or hurt themselves. Who knows what else they might find in there to get themselves into trouble.”

  That said, she went downstairs and returned with a hammer and nails. As she crawled beneath the bed to secure the panel back into place, two spirited kittens decided to help. When she was able to stop laughing enough to plead for some assistance with her four-legged friends, Tuck got down on hands and knees on the opposite side of the bed. Peppa placed a hand on the mattress, preparing to join Tuck when Edna stopped her.

  “A moment, if you will, Peppa.” Edna took hold of her friend’s arm and drew her gently away from the activity. “I need to ask about Clem. Why are you so certain that he didn’t die of a digitalis overdose?”

  Peppa was keeping her eyes on the other women, and Edna suspected she would rather be beneath the bed, checking on Mary’s work, if not supervising it. The old librarian spoke a bit sharply, as if the facts were common knowledge. “He’s got … rather he had a thyroid problem that caused his heart to beat slower than normal.” She turned to look at Edna, her forehead wrinkled with confusion. “Is that really what they’re saying? He had digitalis in his system?”


  Edna nodded. She was speechless as she considered what Peppa had just told her. “So any sort of medication for a fibrillating heart …”

  “Right,” Peppa interrupted. “With Clem’s condition, it would slow his heart down to the point that he would faint … or worse.”

  “Cause his heart to stop,” Edna concluded.

  “Darn fool.” Peppa shook her head and turned away, but not before Edna saw the moisture in the old librarian’s eyes.

  Without another word, she moved back toward the bed and the sound of more laughter and hammering and meowing coming from underneath. Edna remained where she was, lost in the thought, I should go to Lily’s and check Clem’s belongings.

  Chapter 24

  Once the bedroom and adjoining bathroom had been inspected for any other loose boards or potential hazards, Mary shut the cats up for the night. After checking on Hank and Spot to assure them that all was well, she led the women downstairs. In order to unwind from the night’s excitement, the four women sat at the dining room table for another hour, drinking tea and talking about old houses, secret passages and cats.

  “It’s always been amazing to me,” said Edna, “that a ten pound, scampering cat can sound like a heavy-footed child.” She knew Mary was still feeling foolish over making such a big fuss over a ghost in her attic. Not only that, but the crime enthusiast had admitted to being afraid to investigate alone.

  When Edna finally went home and to bed shortly before midnight, she slept fitfully. She was worried that Matthew wasn’t telling her the entire story and wondered how Albert was really doing. Was he in pain? Had he set his knee rehabilitation back when he fell off the boat? Had he picked up some sort of harmful bacteria by swallowing sea water?

  When she finally stopped agonizing over Albert, her thoughts turned to Mary’s cats finding the hidden staircase to the attic. Peppa’s theory was that the passage was the master’s means of visiting the maids’ quarters. Tuck thought it more likely the runaway slaves used the stairs to mount to the top of the house in order to hide in the false front around the chimney, or perhaps they hid between the walls, on the steps themselves.