Four Red Diamonds (A Lady Marmalade Mystery Short Story Collection Book 1)

by Jason Blacker

  “I’m afraid she’s dead,” he said.

  “Good God, are you sure?” asked Godfrey.

  “Yes, quite sure.”

  “Ring for the police Eustace,” said Fran.

  He trundled out of the kitchen to make the call. Fran looked around the kitchen. There was a broken plate on the floor and a bite of cucumber sandwich left on the side table. There were also some spilled crystals that looked like salt. Some in a small round line and others tossed carelessly around. Fran looked at the blue glass vial she held in her hand. It had a sticker on it that said “Potassium Cyanide”.

  “It appears she has been poisoned,” said Fran.

  “How do you know that?” asked Godfrey looking at the dead body of Christine.

  “Well, her cheeks are rosy, her eyes are glassy and she looks like she’s been suffocated. But I found this vial outside on our way in here. It is empty. And it has ‘Potassium Cyanide’ written on the side.”

  Mountbatten got up and looked at the vial in Fran’s hand. Both Godfrey and Alys stared too.

  “Good heavens. What on earth? I mean, who would want to do a thing like that?” asked Alys.

  “That’s what we need to find out,” said Fran.

  Eustace returned to the kitchen.

  “They’re on their way,” he said.

  “How did you find her?” asked Fran to Eustace.

  “Well ma’am, I came into the kitchen to see if she needed any help and I found her on the floor, writhing around. She was clutching her throat and trying to talk to me. But I couldn’t make out what she was saying. So I ran out to get you. When I came back in, well, she was dead.”

  Fran nodded. So did Mountbatten.

  “What an awful mess,” said Alys.

  “What? You mean the body?” asked Mountbatten.

  “No, the kitchen, it’s in such disarray. No wonder somebody poisoned her. Really, she couldn’t keep it tidy if her life depended on it. Perhaps it did,” said Alys.

  “I say, that’s a little unkind,” said Godfrey.

  She rolled her eyes at him and under her breath she said, “Yes, you would say that.”

  Fran noticed a bottle in the corner of the kitchen that was half sticking out of the dustbin. She went over to it to take a closer look. It was a bottle of beer. It had been tossed on top of a bunch of broken plates. The dustbin was closer to the door from where they had come.

  Off in the distance the sound of sirens came closer. Then they paused for a bit and then drew closer again. In a while, a car could be heard pulling up to a stop outside the main entrance. Eustace opened the door to the police detectives and invited them. He brought them through into the kitchen where everyone was still gathered around the dead body.

  “Ah Lady Marmalade,” said Inspector Devlin Pearce. “Imagine finding you at the scene of the murder.”

  “Yes, I know. Seems our murderer is hoping to get caught.”

  “And indeed, they shall,” Inspector Pearce answered.

  He and the Bobby looked around at the scene. They turned Christine over, but didn’t seem to find much. Pearce sent the Bobby out to bring in the Coroner’s people to collect the body when they came.

  “I have a couple of chaps we picked up on our trip here,” said Pearce. “They seem somewhat fishy to me.”

  “Really,” said Godfrey, “who might they be?”

  “We’ll get to that in good time.”

  Pearce took his notebook out of this pocket as well as a pen.

  “If you don’t mind, I’ll be taking some notes and asking some questions. I suppose you’d like to be around for that Frances?”

  “If you don’t mind, Inspector,” said Fran, “I’d love to be of service.”

  “Yes, indeed.”

  “Well then, let’s get on with it. If everyone could take a seat in the sitting room and I’ll call you when we need you. Frances, I think we’ll start with the two unruly characters we picked up on our way in here. We might be able to wrap this up by supper time.”

  “I certainly hope so,” said Fran, “poor dear.”

  Inspector Pearce escorted everyone into the sitting room and asked Lord Apleby if there was a private room they might have to conduct their investigation. Apleby led them to a study attached to the sitting room through double wooden doors.

  “This will do nicely,” said Pearce.

  He took a seat behind the large wooden desk in a well padded leather chair. Lady Marmalade took a seat next to him. It was more modest but quite comfortable enough.

  “I heard about your work on the Vicar’s murder,” he said.

  “Oh, yes,” said Fran.

  “Very well done.”

  “Thank you, Inspector.”

  The Bobby came in and informed the Inspector that the Coroner’s office had arrived to take the body away.

  “Bring in the two that we picked up on our way here, and make sure that someone stays with everyone in the sitting room. I want this nice and orderly.”

  “Yes, sir. Do you have a preference for who you might like to see first?”

  “Doesn’t matter,” he said, and the Bobby left.

  Fran passed the blue vial over to Inspector Pearce.

  “I found this outside, tossed in the bushes, on our way into the kitchen when the butler came to get us.”

  Pearce looked at it and read the inscription. He looked inside the small vial and tipped it upside down. Nothing but a few crystals of cyanide came out.

  “Interesting, so this is how she was murdered you think?”

  Fran nodded.

  “I’m afraid so. With her rosy cheeks, I think this most definitely points to a poisoning with cyanide.”

  A different constable brought in Raustin Gardyner. He was made to sit in the chair opposite the desk. The constable stood against the wall watching Raustin, his hands were clasped in front of him. Pearce opened up his notebook and flipped through a few pages.

  “So you’re Raustin Gardyner,” he said.

  Raustin nodded.

  “And what brings you to this part of the country?”

  “I was just out having a stroll?”

  “Is that so?”

  “Yes,” said Raustin.

  “Then, why did you dive into the field and take off when you saw us coming? And why did you throw off your coat? Which, by the way, we’ve managed to pick up.”

  “Because there is a warrant for my arrest.”

  “Arrest for what?” asked Pearce.

  Raustin looked at his hands and picked at his nails.

  “For assault,” he said.

  “I see, and that’s the only reason why you ran from us?”

  Raustin looked up at the Inspector wondering if there was something else behind his question.

  “Yes, why else would I run from you?” asked Raustin.

  “Because you killed Christine Crane, the kitchen maid.”

  Raustin looked at the Inspector for a moment.

  “You’re joking, she’s not dead is she?”

  “I see, so you do know who she is?” said the Inspector.

  “Well, um, yes.”

  Raustin stopped then and didn’t say anymore.

  “Inspector, if I may,” said Fran.

  The Inspector nodded.

  “Are you and Christine related?” she asked Raustin.

  He looked at her, his eyes searching for something.

  “Yes, she’s my mother. How did you know?”

  “I see the resemblance in the eyes.”

  Raustin stared, blinking.

  “And you had come to see her?” asked Fran. “I saw you walking away from the back of the castle.”

  Raustin nodded, looking into his lap.

  “Get on with it man. What had you come to see her about?” demanded Pearce.

  “I had come to ask why she had ignored my letters all these years. It had been hard to find her, you know. She gave me up when I was just a baby. I spent my life in orphanages. And they weren’t a lot of fun,
you know.”

  You could see that he was visibly upset. His eyes stung and he blinked them a few times. The memories were unkind.

  “I can’t say I’m sorry the cow is dead,” he said through gritted teeth. “She never did anything for me but bring me a lifetime of pain and misery.”

  “She must’ve been young when she had you. It must have been hard for her then,” said Fran.

  “I was conceived through rape,” he said. “I suppose it might have been hard. But it was no fault of my own.”

  “Tell us what happened when you met with her,” said Pearce writing in his notebook.

  “Well, I asked her why she had ignored me. She told me the things I’ve just mentioned to you. I was very upset at her and I told her as much. Listen, I’m not the one who killed her. There was this other fellow who came in after me. The drunkard you picked up. I didn’t like the tone he had with her. In fact I gave him two shillings just to be gone. And what about the butler, he seems like a suspicious sort. I bet he fancied her too.”

  Fran leaned down by the wastebasket that was at her feet behind the desk. She pulled out a crumpled piece of paper and opened it up. It was a receipt from the local pharmacist.

  “Then tell us why we found cyanide residue in your coat pocket?” asked the Inspector.

  “That can’t possibly be. I’ve never had cyanide anywhere near me.”

  “Then how did it get in your pockets?”

  “I don’t know. I mean I did have some of the sandwich which was on the side table in the kitchen. I noticed that table was covered a bit in salt, I thought it was. Maybe that’s it? It probably came off when I put my hands back into my coat pocket.”

  “So you’ve never seen this bottle of cyanide before now, then?” asked the Inspector, pointing at the bottle.

  “No, I swear, I’ve never seen it.”

  “We can dust it for prints,” said Pearce.

  “Go ahead. You won’t find mine on it.”

  Inspector Pearce nodded at the constable standing against the wall.

  “That will be all for now,” he said. “Stay in the sitting room until we let you go.”

  The constable came over and escorted Raustin out.

  “It’s going to be hard getting any good prints off that bottle,” said Fran, “so many of us have touched it.”

  “Yes, I know,” said Pearce, “but he doesn’t.”

  The constable came back in with a disheveled looking and still drunk Harry Mallowburne.

  “So, Harry,” said Pearce, “do you know why we’ve brought you in?”

  “I do,” said Harry, “somebody killed my missus, so said the butler. Horrible business that.”

  “Doesn’t look good for you,” said Pearce, “running away from us when you saw us coming. Makes me think maybe you killed her, seeing as you weren’t that far from the castle.”

  Harry shook his head as if trying to get rid of flies.

  “No sir. Now look ‘ere. I did come to see Christine. We were married a short while you see, and she’s always been good to me. I jus’ come to see if she’d give me a little loan. A pound or two you know. Nothin’ much.”

  Pearce was writing in his notebook.

  “That’s not what we heard, Harry. We heard you said some nasty words to Christine.”

  Pearce looked at his notebook and flipped back a few pages.

  “You said something about threatening her. That you warned her to be careful that, ‘nothing bad happened’. That sounds like a threat to me.”

  Harry looked guiltily around at Fran and back at the Inspector.

  “Well, yes, but she didn’ have to be so rude about not giving me the money, you see. She coulda given it to me. She’d never not given me money before. It was jus’ the beer talkin’”

  “Seems that you get quite the temper when you’ve been drinking, Harry. We have reports that you beat her once or twice when you were married,” said Pearce.

  “Listen, I’m sorry ‘bout that. Those were honest mistakes they was. But I haven’ laid a han’ on her for a long time, now. Honest truth.”

  “So how did you get the cyanide then, Harry, did you find it or buy it?” asked Pearce.

  “No, you’ve got it wrong, Inspecta’. I didn’ have no cyanide. Never seen that in my life. I left Christine after she tol’ me she wasn’t going to give me no money. And anyway, that nice young man out there gave me two shillin’. Then I left.”

  “So you never poured any cyanide in her sandwich?” asked Fran.

  “No I didn’, ma’am. As God’s my witness, I wouldn’ do that.”

  Inspector Pearce nodded at the constable again.

  “Very well, Harry. Stay close, we might need you again. Bring in the butler,” Pearce said to the constable.

  The constable took Harry out.

  “So you think it was cyanide in her sandwich that poisoned her,” he asked Fran.

  “Yes. Raustin mentioned what he thought was salt on the counter top, after he took some of the sandwich.”

  “So you think she might have been poisoned after Raustin left?”

  “Not necessarily,” said Fran. “He might have put the cyanide in the other half of the sandwich, thinking he was creating a good alibi for himself.”

  Pearce nodded.

  “What about this Harry fellow? He seemed to have been with Christine only while Raustin was there.”

  “True, though that doesn’t mean he couldn’t have killed her. He might have come back to poison her after Raustin left.”

  “But what about the cyanide that Raustin said was on the side table?”

  “Well, maybe it was just salt. You haven’t had a chance to determine what it was have you, Inspector?”

  “No, not yet. But we will find out soon enough.”

  The constable brought the butler in and had him take a seat opposite the Inspector and Lady Marmalade. The constable stood back against the wall.

  “Eustace Parris,” said the Inspector looking at his notes.

  “Yes,” replied Eustace.

  “You’ve been working here for ten years.”

  “That’s right,” he said.

  “And before that, according to Scotland Yard, you were a chemist for many years.”

  “Yes.”

  “So you know all about poisons then, don’t you.”

  “I don’t quite know what you’re asking me, Inspector.”

  “You have the knowledge and likely the ability to poison someone, like Christine, with cyanide.”

  “Look, it wasn’t me. I loved the young lady, even though she turned me down, saying I was too old. But I didn’t hold it against her. I knew I had little chance, but I really hoped in time she might change her mind, as she got older and had less interest from others, then maybe she would give me a chance.”

  “And you were the one who found her. That doesn’t make it look good for you, Eustace?” said Pearce.

  “Well, yes, I found her, but I didn’t kill her.”

  “Well, you could have. You could have put the cyanide in her food, and tossed this vial out as you came round the kitchen to warn everyone. Fingerprints will tell us.”

  Eustace looked up and shook his head.

  “Okay,” he said. “I did touch that vial of cyanide, but I found it in the dustbin as I was leaving to call everyone and I tossed it in the bushes. I didn’t like the look of it. I thought maybe Lord or Lady Apleby had put it there. I didn’t want anyone getting in trouble with it. And I knew if you had seen it there, and me being the last one to see Christine, that it might not look good for me. You see, I need this job. And I had been tasked with buying the cyanide by Lady Apleby for the rodent problem we’ve been experiencing in the gardens of late.”

  “So you thought it was better to try and destroy evidence?”

  “Well, I wasn’t thinking straight. I had never seen a dead body before.”

  “If you are truly innocent, then your prints wouldn’t have been found on the bottle. Now they will be an
d what with you being the last one to see her, and being spurned by her, well, that gives me a lot of motive. More than that, you’re trying to cast your employers in doubt.”

  “I know it doesn’t look good,” he said, looking imploringly at Fran and Pearce, “but it was hardly a secret that Lord Apleby was sleeping with Christine. She didn’t want it. She told me that, but she was scared for her job. She told me that Lady Apleby had warned her to end it with her husband or she would destroy her. We all knew Lord Apleby couldn’t keep his hands off her. His wife knew, and they had terrible arguments about it. I once overheard them, and she threatened to end the relationship if he wouldn’t.”

  “I see,” said Pearce.

  “What exactly did she say?” asked Fran.

  “She said ‘end the relationship Godfrey or I will destroy her’,” said Eustace.

  “Well, that could mean many things, the least of which is murder,” said Pearce.

  “Tell me Eustace, did you see anyone put cyanide in the sandwich?” asked Fran.

  Eustace looked at Fran’s kindly face.

  “No, ma’am, though I did see that Raustin fellow, her son I guess, fidgeting a bit by the plate and rubbing his hands over his coat.”

  “Hmmm,” said Pearce, “you’ve got all the answers for why others did it and yet you’re the one holding the cyanide bottle,” said Pearce.

  Eustace looked away and down towards his feet. That part was true. Perhaps he shouldn’t have admitted to grabbing that bottle. Or he should’ve been more careful in getting rid of it.

  “I didn’t do it,” he said. “As strange as it may sound, I loved her. Maybe it was because she was getting all that money from Lord Apleby.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Pearce.

  “Well, I overheard him once, when giving her some money just the other day. He said something about that being the last and she was to end this nonsense. Something along those lines.”

  “Okay, Eustace, you may go now. That’ll be all.”

  Pearce nodded at the constable and he ushered Eustace out of the study. The older man shuffled, his shoulders weighed down heavily. He seemed to have aged considerably in the few minutes he had spent under interrogation.

  “Well, we have two more to interview. The lady and lord of the manor. I can’t see how it could be either of them,” said Pearce.