by K E O'Connor
“He does come across as sleazy,” said Helen. “What about the mean chauffeur?”
“I’m not sure why he would do it,” I said. “But Karl’s not been friendly to us so far. Maybe Beatrice did something to get on his bad side.”
“We should have him on the list,” said Helen. “I don’t like the vibe he gives off when he’s around us.”
“And what about Cecil?” I asked. “His incompetence as a doctor could have led to Beatrice’s death.”
“And then there’s Lady Galbraith,” said Helen.
“You think she could be involved?”
“Well, she can freeze your blood with a single stare,” said Helen. “I made the mistake of dropping some pins on the floor, and she had me on my hands and knees for half an hour double checking I hadn’t left any behind she might step on. Honestly, I thought she was going to bring out a whip at one point to punish me.”
“Perhaps Beatrice broke some unforgivable rule and Lady Galbraith decided to punish her,” I said. “Cecil mentioned she’s not one for forgiving mistakes easily.”
“That means we have Lord Galbraith, his wife, the sleazy cousin, Douglas, Karl, and Cecil as potential suspects in Beatrice’s murder.” Helen counted the suspects off on her fingers.
“That’s if there even was a murder,” I said.
The kitchen door leading out into the garden opened and shut several times, reverberating throughout the room as the strength of the bangs increased with each slam of the door.
“We hear you Beatrice.” I looked over at Helen. “Whatever’s going on here, we need to solve this. Beatrice isn’t going to rest until we do.”
Chapter 10
I hurried along the wide, sage green colored hallway, wanting to get to Lord Galbraith’s study in time for our daily round of letter writing and filing. I’d spent a restless night going through the suspects involved in Beatrice’s murder and had come up with no useful connections.
The buckle of my black shoe came loose, and as I bent down to adjust it, I heard two people murmuring to each other. I looked up, and spotted Lord Galbraith with an unfamiliar woman by his side. She looked to be in her early forties, with neat blonde hair and a trim figure, dressed in a fitted blue dress. Lord Galbraith had his hand on her elbow, and they were moving swiftly in my direction.
As I began to stand, they paused. The woman turned towards Lord Galbraith, slid one hand around the back of his neck and pulled him down for a kiss, which quickly turned into a steamy embrace as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close.
I ducked back down, stunned by what I’d just witnessed, and after a second of hesitation, grabbed hold of Flipper, and we shot over to one of the thick drapes by the window and hid behind it. Lord Galbraith had a mistress! And he had her inside the family home! I could now understand why Lady Galbraith was always so frosty. If Lord Galbraith paraded other women about, she was well within her rights to be angry at the world.
I froze as the two of them stopped kissing and continued to walk in my direction. They passed the curtain I was hiding behind without comment, and after a few seconds, I peeked my head around the edge and saw them turn the corner. I let out a relieved sigh, stood up, and looked out of the window behind me. Zach stood outside, laughing at me, a quizzical look on his face.
He gestured for me to come outside, and after another few seconds of waiting to make sure I didn’t bump into the scandalous couple, I hurried through the kitchen with Flipper, out the back door, and around the side of the house to meet Zach.
“Did I catch you playing hide and seek?” he asked, scraping his dark windswept hair off his face.
“It was something of an impromptu game.” I looked around the garden, making sure no one else was in ear shot. “Can you keep a secret?”
Zach’s smile broadened. “I know plenty of secrets about this place. I am the soul of discretion.”
I’d have to take his word for that, given that I didn’t know him well. “Lord Galbraith has a mistress. I spotted them kissing in the corridor. That was why I was hiding behind the curtain with Flipper.”
Zach nodded his head slowly. “It’s not the greatest of surprises. I had heard a rumor he was seeing somebody other than his wife.”
“But he had her in the house,” I said. “What if Lady Galbraith spotted them together?”
Zach took hold of my arm and guided me away from the house. “Lady Galbraith isn’t the warmest of people to be around. Perhaps Sylvester is simply trying to find some comfort.”
I snorted. “He would be better to tend to the marriage he has than find other women to seek comfort from.”
“Perhaps you’re right,” said Zach. “But Lady Galbraith is a distant woman. It must be hard to love someone who is so removed from a marriage.”
“Maybe she's removed from the marriage because her husband is cheating on her,” I said. “Just because your marriage is going through a hard time doesn’t give you the right to go off and find somebody else.”
Zach sighed, and we walked together in silence for a few minutes. “You might be right,” he finally said.
“It explains why Lady Galbraith is so cold to all other women. She might see them as a threat to her marriage.”
“Marriages are complicated,” said Zach.
“The bit about forsaking all others seems straightforward enough to me.”
“Have you ever been married, Lorna?” asked Zach.
“No, but that’s got nothing to do with it,” I said. “A promise is a promise.”
He shook his head. “Marriage is more complicated than that.”
I looked over at him, waiting for him to elaborate, but his face turned stubbornly forward and his jaw clenched.
“What was Lady Galbraith like around Beatrice?” I asked, realising I wasn’t going to get any more words of wisdom about marriage from Zach. “Was she kind to her?”
“From what I've been told, they were civil enough,” said Zach. “Especially when Beatrice kept to her part of the house and didn’t get involved in the running of the estate.”
I chewed on my bottom lip, the possibility Lady Galbraith was involved in her sister-in-law’s death now quite real to me. “Did Beatrice know about her brother’s affair?”
“You’re asking the wrong man,” said Zach. “She may have discovered the two of them together, like you just did. Lord Galbraith isn’t all that discreet.”
“If Beatrice found out and disapproved of Lord Galbraith’s actions, do you think that would have given him reason to do her harm?”
Zach pulled up short and turned towards me. “Is that why you’re asking all these questions about Beatrice? Do you think someone killed her?”
I hadn’t meant to speak those thoughts out loud. “No, well, I’m not sure. I have this bad feeling something happened to Beatrice and that perhaps her death wasn’t an accident.”
“What makes you say that?” asked Zach. “Did you know Beatrice before she died?
“No, I knew nothing about her until I came here.”
“Has someone said something to you about her death?”
I gritted my teeth, not wanting to reveal my ghost seeing abilities to him. “No one has said anything to me, specifically.” And they hadn’t. Beatrice had done some wonderful ghostly mimes at me, but the ghosts never talked back.
“I did wonder why you were so interested in someone who has been dead for three years.” Zach’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not a ghost hunter, are you?”
I forced a laugh. “Nothing so exciting. I just am naturally curious. Call it a gut instinct if you like. There seems to be some unfinished business around here when it comes to Beatrice Galbraith, and I’d like to know what that is.”
Zach shot me a sideways glance. “So you’re not a ghost hunter, and I don’t figure you as an undercover cop or private eye.”
“How do you know I’m not a private eye?”
“You seem too nice.”
“Oh! Well, maybe you’ve just
met your first nice private eye.” I smiled at him. “I promise you, I’m not doing anything shady. I’m only a personal assistant, amazing at filing and typing, but that’s about it.”
Zach grinned. “Okay, but if you turn out to be some undercover super spy, I’m going to look stupid.”
We walked along in silence for a few minutes. I hoped I hadn't said too much. Didn't want Zach to think I was too quirky for my own good.
Zach stooped to move a broken branch out of our way. “I sometimes get those weird gut feelings as well. You know what it’s like, you walk into a place and the vibe feels off, and you want to get out of there as quickly as possible. Is that what’s happened to you?”
I wanted to hug Zach. He had just given me an easy way out of this awkward situation. “Yes, something like that. It’s just nice to know someone as innocent as Beatrice didn’t come to any harm. I don’t know if that makes sense to you.”
“In a way it does,” said Zach. “It’s good that you care so much about a stranger.”
Flipper gave a quiet whine, and I noticed a flash of movement ahead of me and felt a chill run down my spine. Beatrice wasn’t quite the stranger Zach thought she was.
“I wanted you to see this. I know you like animals.” Zach pointed to his right, and I looked through the bushes towards some kennels.
“Are they Douglas’s hunting dogs?” I asked.
“He calls them that,” said Zach. “But I can’t remember the last time Douglas got on a horse and rode with them. The dogs in here aren’t good for hunting anymore; they’re not trained well enough.”
I pushed past the bushes and walked along a narrow gravel pathway. There were three kennels lined up next to each other, wire meshing from floor to ceiling, and a small back door in each kennel that must be the indoor sleeping quarters for the dogs. There were five dogs inside the kennels. A small black dog sat in one corner on her own, with the saddest looking eyes I’d ever seen, large pools of deep, black loneliness gazing at me.
“They don’t look happy.” I crouched down and pushed my fingers through the wire fence. Two of the dogs came over and sniffed my fingers, giving me a chance to look them over. They looked well fed, but there were no toys in the kennels and only a small, thin blanket on the floor. “Who looks after them?”
“Technically, they are Douglas’s animals, so he should take care of them,” said Zach. “But he forgets he owns them. I make sure they get fed every day and take them out when I can. But I’m busy with the garden at this time of year. I get the impression they’re lonely out here.”
I moved over to the kennel with the single black dog inside. “This one doesn’t look like a hunting dog.” She was some sort of crossbreed, maybe a mix between a Labrador and Collie. Her fur was jet black, and her black eyes looked out at me through scruffy fur that needed a good brush.
“That one’s not a hunting dog,” said Zach. “She used to belong to Beatrice. She would show her at the local village dog shows.”
I recalled the newspaper clippings of Beatrice with her dogs. “I’ve seen pictures of her and Beatrice together.”
“You have?” asked Zach. “I don’t remember seeing any of those around the house.”
I realised I’d given away the fact I’d been snooping in Lord Galbraith’s private files. “There must be a picture somewhere. I’ve definitely seen her with this dog. So, the poor thing has been here for three years?”
“The family kept her in the house for a while after Beatrice died, but apparently she pined and whimpered and Douglas complained about the noise, so she was sent to the kennels.”
“She’s a companion dog, not a hunting dog. She’s not meant for life inside a kennel. It’s so sad.” I leaned my head against the wire and beckoned the dog towards me.
“I’ve asked if I can get all the dogs rehomed,” said Zach. “It does seem cruel to keep them out here. They have each other, so they’re not too isolated, but they must get bored. They have no stimulation and not many visitors.”
“But Lord Galbraith won’t let you rehome them?”
“More like Douglas won’t,” growled Zach. “He’s their owner. He gets to say what happens to them. I did ask Lord Galbraith, but he said they were nothing to do with him, and he couldn’t help.”
My dislike of Douglas grew even more. “I’d release them without Douglas’s approval. How would he know what happened, since he never visits them?”
“I thought about that,” said Zach. “But they’re not meant for outdoor life. If I let them go, they’d most likely hang around the house.”
“It’s so wrong keeping them in these cages.” I encouraged the black dog over to me again, but she simply looked up at me before settling her head back on her paw. My heart twisted with sadness when I saw the expression on her face. She was most likely grieving the loss of Beatrice, but all she’d received was imprisonment in a tiny kennel. It must be so confusing for her to go from beloved pet to unwanted burden.
“You’re welcome to walk them,” said Zach. “I feel bad knowing they are out here on their own, and I just don’t have the time for them.”
“I’ll walk them,” I said. “Flipper is good with other dogs, and he’d enjoy the company. I’ll have to do it when I’m not working for Lord Galbraith, and make sure Lady Galbraith doesn’t spot me sneaking out and doing things I shouldn’t. She has an uncanny ability to turn up when I’m misbehaving.”
“I think she has a bad behavior detection radar built in,” said Zach with a grin.
I looked at the dogs once more, their eager faces turned up at me, all except the black dog, who seemed to have lost interest in the world. “Count me in. I’ll help.”
“Excellent.” Zach’s grin broadened, and his dimples popped.
“I’d better return to the house,” I said. “Hopefully Lord Galbraith has gotten rid of his mistress by now, and I can get on with my work.”
“Yes, and I have a dead bush to dig out this morning. There's never enough time to get everything done around here.” Zach gave me a brief salute as I walked away.
My thoughts were a tangled mess. I was worried about how involved Lord Galbraith was with his sister’s death. She seemed like a straight-laced lady. If she'd discovered his infidelity and challenged him, he may have panicked and decided to get rid of her.
But what if it was Lady Galbraith, and Beatrice had confronted her with news about the affair? Lady Galbraith may have bumped off Beatrice to prevent the family name being dragged through the mud.
Even the mistress could be a suspect. Perhaps she’d realised her sugar daddy might end their relationship and decided to get rid of Beatrice before she could release a scandal?
This was such a mess. I wished Beatrice could tell me what was going on. Whatever was happening, I may now be working for someone who was a killer.
Chapter 11
The grandfather clock in the hall chimed midnight as I crept down the stairs, dressed head to toe in black, Helen and Flipper behind me. We were also accompanied by the chilly, quivering presence of Beatrice. Even as a ghost, she didn’t like to break the rules.
After speaking to Zach in the garden that morning, I’d convinced Helen and Beatrice we needed to do some more investigation into who killed Beatrice. The suspects were arriving with such alarming regularity, even I’d begun to think her death was not an accident. Too many people had a motive to kill her.
We reached the door to Lord Galbraith’s study, and after listening for any noise on the other side of the door, I took a deep breath and pushed it open. The room was empty, chairs tucked neatly under the desk and the paperwork just as I had left it.
Once the door was closed and everyone was safely inside, I let out a sigh of relief.
“What are we looking for?” whispered Helen, her eyes almost obscured by the black cap she wore.
“Clues to Beatrice’s murder,” I said, not altogether certain what clues they might be. “Flipper, you stand guard by the door and let us know if anyone is
coming.”
Flipper positioned himself in the appropriate position, his gaze on the door.
“Clues against which suspect?” Helen crept forward in the gloom, her arms outstretched.
“Against any of them. The more I discover about Beatrice’s life here, the more I think she’s right, and someone killed her. That someone could be her brother.” I’d told Helen about spotting the mystery woman being embraced by Lord Galbraith.
“Lord Galbraith is a cheater,” muttered Helen. “That is definitely scandal worthy. And it could be something to kill for.”
Beatrice quivered with what might have been indignation.
“I agree, and quite possibly grounds for murder. Let’s have a look in Lord Galbraith’s private filing cabinet and see if he’s hiding anything that sheds light on what happened to his sister.” I led Helen over to a filing cabinet I’d been instructed not to go into. Apparently, this housed Lord Galbraith’s personal correspondence, most likely to all of his mistresses. He had definitely gone down in my estimations.
After some jiggling with the feeble lock on the top of the filing cabinet, it pinged open, and I rifled through the top files for a few moments.
“Anything good?” asked Helen.
“Have a look at these.” I passed a file full of newspaper clippings to her.
Helen took the file and scanned through it, a small penlight skimming over the contents. “It’s mainly cuttings about the family. There’s some pictures of Lord Galbraith at charity events, that sort of thing.”
“I wondered if his mistress had something to do with Beatrice’s death,” I said. “Would you kill for your sugar daddy?”
Helen snorted a quiet laugh. “Depends how much he is worth and how generous he is.”
Beatrice blew cold air into my face. “From Beatrice’s reaction, she doesn’t think it was the mistress.”
