“I’ll send for one right away.” Constable Lowell rushed off with Gloria, who was still trying to talk her way out of it.
Gibson turned stern eyes on Hazel. “Hazel, I don’t want you to think your help isn’t appreciated. It would have taken us a long time to figure out what was really going on without your information. Sharing information is good, but honestly, you should have let the police confront the killer. It’s dangerous.”
Hazel lowered her eyes. “I realize that. But when I saw Myrtle writing letters in the parlor and I realized that it was Gloria who had written the letter that brought me to Lowry House in the first place, it all clicked into place, and I knew that she was trying to frame Wes. Myrtle said they had come to the cottage, and I was afraid of what she might do to him. I ran off without thinking.”
Gibson’s face softened. “Well, everything turned out all right in the end. But there’s one thing that I don’t understand. How did you know the photograph would be found in the jewelry box?”
“Actually, I didn’t. But I knew Vera would’ve had to have had some sort of physical evidence to blackmail Gloria with. Then I remembered the photographs. Vera was an amateur photographer. And Wes had told me that Gloria was keen on organizing the photographs. But from my observations, Gloria and Vera were not great friends anymore, so why would she want to help her out?” Hazel said. “I didn’t realize it would be in the jewelry box until the very last minute, though. When I had inspected the jewelry box before, I had noticed it seemed rather shallow on the inside for the size of the box but never considered it might have a secret compartment where Vera had hidden the photograph. Though I’d like to say I knew the box would smash and reveal the picture, in all honesty, I was actually just using the jewelry box as a weapon. She was pointing the gun right at me, and I didn’t want to get shot.”
Gibson laughed. “Seems like you picked the right item to throw. And I’m glad you weren’t hurt this time. But next time, please leave the task of confronting the killer to the characters in your novel.”
The next day…
“I can’t believe that whole business about someone trying to kill me was a farce.” Myrtle frowned at Hazel over a cup of chamomile tea. They were seated in the front sitting room with Fran, Edward, and Gibson as Hazel waited for Duffy to pick her up. She’d sent word through Giles after Gloria had been arrested. Now that the mysterious goings-on at Lowry House had been put to an end, Hazel was anxious to get back home.
Wes was in a room upstairs. Dr. Fletcher had pronounced he would be perfectly fine, though Gloria had apparently mixed sleeping pills in with his whiskey. According to Wes, she’d brought him to the cottage so he could get some of his things and suggested they have a drink. He started to feel groggy shortly after, and he only vaguely remembered Hazel and the police busting in.
“Apparently, you were in no danger,” Hazel said. “In fact, Gloria really did want to keep you safe. It was Vera she was after.”
“I can’t say I didn’t see that coming”—Fran nibbled on a scone and glanced at Myrtle—“the two of them never did get along. I always knew there was something funny going on there. I mean, I didn’t think Gloria would murder Vera, though.”
“What clued you in?” Edward asked Hazel. Upon Gloria’s arrest, he’d cancelled his trip to London to stay and make sure Myrtle wasn’t too upset in finding out her favorite grandniece was a killer.
Hazel laughed. “Believe it or not, initially, it was Dickens! He tried to put his harness on backwards, and that’s when I realized we had the whole case backwards. We thought someone had killed Vera because they had mistaken her for Myrtle with the red hair and the rhinestone gloves, but it was really Vera who was the target all along, and the attempts on Myrtle were only laid out to throw us off course. Gloria set those attempts up to make it look like someone was trying to harm Myrtle. That’s why the attempts were not dire enough to actually kill her. I should have paid more attention to my gut instincts on that account. I always thought the attempts seemed a little halfhearted to result in murder.”
“Well, Gloria had us convinced!” Myrtle said.
“Yes, but I should have known better, especially after I saw Gloria and Vera arguing outside my window.” Hazel frowned and glanced down at the red-and-black hound’s-tooth cat carrier where Dickens was ensconced at her feet. “Funny thing—overhearing that conversation was also due to Dickens. He wanted the window open, and when I opened it, I overheard them outside.”
“Mew.”
Hazel continued, “I didn’t hear what they said, but it sounded as if they were fighting, and then Gloria got in the car and took off. Later on, she said she never left the house that day. And I’d felt the undercurrent of the little barbs that Vera would shoot at Gloria. But I never suspected Vera was blackmailing her.”
“Or that Gloria was using me to set it all up.” Myrtle sounded sad.
“Unfortunately, she did. She had Vera’s murder planned from the start,” Hazel said. “Wasn’t Gloria the one who suggested you henna your hair?”
Myrtle patted her hair. “Yes. She said it would keep me looking younger.”
“And it does, Gram,” Fran said.
“Yes, it does,” Hazel agreed. “But it also served another purpose, because Vera used that same henna. And when your rhinestone gloves were itching you on the night of the party, I bet it was Gloria who suggested you remove them.”
“Why, yes. She even offered to take them so I didn’t have to be bothered with them. You know, she bought me those in the first place…” Myrtle frowned. “Oh. She might’ve been planning it even back then.”
“I’m afraid so. And when she took them at the party, she probably brought them straight to Vera, knowing how much Vera loved sparkly things.”
“But how did she get Vera to go into the library?” Edward asked.
“I don’t know if she necessarily needed her to be in the library or just away from the party. Somewhere dimly lit where she could have her back to the door and it would appear that she was mistaken for Myrtle, with the red hair and the gloves. Early on in the party, I saw the two of you”—Hazel nodded toward Fran and Myrtle—“sharing a drink with Vera and Gloria. I thought it was nice that everyone was happy and drinking together, but now I wonder if Gloria hadn’t taken that opportunity to slip something into Vera’s glass.”
Fran gasped. “Why, I thought it was odd that Gloria came over and suggested we have a birthday toast for Myrtle. How could we refuse? You mean she did that on purpose to drug Vera?”
“Yes. She must have slipped something into the glass ahead of time. I remember Wes saying that Vera was acting drunk but that she hadn’t even had that much to drink. Now we know why.”
“So all these attempts on Mother were contrived by Gloria so that she could eventually kill Vera?” Edward seemed incredulous.
Come to think of it, it was a crafty plot. Hazel almost wished the villains in her books were as clever and meticulous as Gloria had been.
“Yes,” Gibson said. “It didn’t take her long to confess the whole thing to Constable Lowell last night. She verified that she made sure she was with Myrtle the morning she would fall on the walkway so she could keep her from getting hurt. She lied about being on vacation at Gull Landing so as to provide an alibi, when in fact she snuck into the house and switched the medicines. She’d been feeding Myrtle Saint John’s wort in the health elixirs, just enough to upset her stomach and cause minor confusion. She knew how sharp Myrtle was and figured keeping her in a state of confusion would help prevent her from getting suspicious. And she snagged the revolver out of the closet at the cottage when Wes and Vera went to the doctor in London. She’d searched for the photo, too. Was quite indignant that it was all Vera’s fault, because if she hadn’t hidden the photo so well, Gloria would never have had to shoot her!”
“She sounds a bit unstable,” Edward said.
Gibson nodded solemnly. “She may try to claim insanity, but I don’t know if it will stick.
She planned things out too thoroughly. She confessed that, on the night of the murder, she steered Wes toward the library. She had the gun hidden in the dumbwaiter in the hall, as the staff never uses it anymore. Once they had Vera seated in the library, she acted agitated about not being able to find Myrtle, and Wes ran off to help. Gloria simply snuck back and shot Vera through the back of the chair. With this confession, there’s no denying it was premeditated. And, of course, with all the other things she’s done to make it look like Myrtle was in danger…”
“Now that I’m thinking about it, she was the one who brought up all these little incidents. I never even suspected anything until she started talking about them,” Myrtle said.
“All a part of her plan,” Hazel said. “She wanted you in her confidence so that you wouldn’t suspect her. Even more so when I came, so that you would already be able to show that you were confiding in Gloria and we would think she couldn’t possibly be the killer.”
“I dare say, it was quite clever of her to send for you, Hazel,” Edward said.
“Indeed.” Gibson looked at Hazel with admiration. “But in the end it turned out to be her downfall. I don’t know if we could have solved the case so quickly without Hazel.”
Hazel blushed and waved her hand dismissively. “I hate to admit I was taken in it first. She fed me the clues the way she wanted me to see them. I should’ve been more observant that morning when the arrow was shot. Gloria was the only one who knew we were sitting in the arbor. She had been with us, walking the path, and we’d told her we would be going to sit there. Since she was an excellent shot, she shot the arrow so as to narrowly miss Myrtle. Then, knowing I would give chase, she threw the bow on the path that led to the stone cottage and disappeared off into the woods.”
Fran frowned. “You mean that day I happened across you and Gram with the arrow sticking out of the arbor really wasn’t because it was an errant shot? I wondered about that, but you both said it was an accident. I never thought someone was trying to shoot Gram.”
“Well, since we didn’t know about the other attempts, I don’t see why you would have.” Edward slid his eyes from Myrtle to Hazel. “Which makes me wonder. Why didn’t you tell us about the other attempts? Were we suspects, too?”
Hazel shot a look at Gibson, hoping that he would run interference for her. She didn’t want Fran or Edward to feel bad or be mad at Myrtle. He caught her look and nodded.
“Of course. In order to do a thorough investigation, Hazel knows that everyone in the house would have to be a suspect. Vera and Wes as well. And Edward, you and Wes had the most motive to want Myrtle dead,” Gibson said.
Edward blanched. “Me? Well, I hardly would kill my own mother.”
Myrtle reached over and patted his arm. “Of course not, dear, but we had to be cautious. We couldn’t leave any stone unturned.”
Fran made a face. “What about me? Why would you suspect me?”
“You weren’t one of our main suspects,” Myrtle assured her. “But you do have that strange affinity for the Pembroke cameos, and it does make you seem a little off.”
Fran’s hand flew to the brooch at her throat. “I saw that brooch at the estate jeweler and assumed Vera was selling it. I went in and demanded to know where they had gotten it. I got a bit hotheaded and am embarrassed to say I made quite a scene.” She slid a glance over to Hazel. “That’s why I told you not to dally in town that day. I was afraid you would go to the jeweler’s and find out about it. I thought it was Vera because she never appreciated the cameos, and she had all that new glittery stuff. I guess Hazel wasn’t the only one who assumed incorrectly.”
“Now, now, dear.” Myrtle clucked. “Don’t feel too bad. It’s not a bad thing that you love the family cameos. In fact, we have a little surprise for you.” Myrtle nodded toward Edward, who pulled a black velvet box out of his pocket and passed it to her.
“I had your father go to town and collect this early this morning. We can’t have the family cameos being sold in a used jewelry store.” She flipped the lid to reveal the cameo Hazel had seen at the estate store. Then she pushed the box over toward Fran. “This is for you, dear. I want you to have it.”
Fran’s eyes went wide as they flicked from the cameo to her grandmother. She took it out of the box lovingly, and then for the first time, Hazel saw a real, true smile radiate across her face. “Thank you, Grandma.”
Myrtle smiled at her fondly. “You’re welcome, dear. I’m just so upset about Gloria. She’d finally gotten her act straightened out, and now this.” Myrtle shook her head. “But now I’ll have to focus my efforts on taking care of Wes. I’m feeling much better now that I haven’t been drinking those health elixirs. My stomach has been fine, and I haven’t been confused at all.” Myrtle frowned. “And to think my dear grandniece was doing that to me. Anyway, Wes needs our help now. He’s quite broken up, and it’s going to take him a while to get over this, but we can’t let him sink into depression.”
Fran put her arm around Myrtle. “Don’t worry, Grandma. I’ll take care of you better than Gloria did. Since Gloria was always hovering around you, I never got a chance to care for you myself.”
“And I’ll help out with Wes,” Edward said. “He needs a man to bond with. I can take him to the club and keep him busy. Don’t worry, we’ll straighten him out in no time.”
“Wonderful.” Myrtle beamed at Fran and Edward. “I’ll have Mrs. Naughton make sure there is always a room for the two of you here, in case you want to stay for extended periods.”
Hazel saw Duffy pull up outside, and her lips curled into a smile at the thought of her staff, who would be tripping over themselves to hear about the case. She was sure Duffy would pepper her with questions the entire ride back to Hastings Manor. Outside, Giles rushed to the car with Hazel’s suitcase.
“Well, I’d best be going.” She stood and picked up Dickens’s carrier and turned to Myrtle. “I’m sorry about Gloria but glad you weren’t harmed.”
Myrtle stood and hugged her. “Thank you, dear. So nice of you to come to my rescue. I do appreciate it.” She bent over and peered into Dickens’s carrier. “And you, too, Dickens.”
Edward and Fran both rose and shook Hazel’s hand. “Thank you for your help.”
Gibson stood, grabbing the handle of Dickens’s carrier. “I’ll help you with this.”
Hazel relinquished the handle, though she had half a mind tell him she could manage on her own. She bit her lip. It wouldn’t do to be making an enemy of Gibson. He might come in handy on other investigations, and she had to admit she kind of liked having him around.
As they exited out the front door, Gibson’s mouth curled into a smile. “I know your staff is anxious to hear about your trip.”
Hazel shot him a glance. “What do you mean?”
Gibson shrugged. “They’ve been very eager to find out what was going on at Lowry House.”
“How do you know that? Have you talked to my staff?”
“Mrs. Dupree brought me some of her famous cookies.” Gibson stowed Dickens’s carrier in the backseat of the car then opened the passenger door for her.
Hazel raised a brow. “I didn’t know she brought you cookies.” Though, now that she thought about it, she wasn’t surprised. She knew Alice had been trying to get the two of them together, and what better way than to ply him with her delicious cookies? Well, it wouldn’t work. Hazel was not the type to be fixed up. And she wasn’t in the market for a new husband. Though, if she was, maybe she would consider Gibson.
But she couldn’t bother herself about Alice’s cookies. She had important work waiting at home. She’d finished the last part of her plot the night before. Turned out, she really could write a book on her own.
Gibson shut the passenger door and stood at the open window. “I do appreciate your help with this case, but I hope I won’t find you in the middle of my next investigation.”
“Mew.” Dickens made his opinion known from the backseat.
Gibson gl
anced into the backseat to address Dickens. “You either.”
Hazel laughed, and winked at Gibson before signaling Duffy to move forward. “I wouldn’t dream of getting into the middle of your next investigation, Detective Chief Inspector Gibson. Wouldn’t dream of it.”
The end.
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