Dead In The Dining Room

by Leighann Dobbs

  To the left of the tree was the garden, in which the cook, Mary, grew her fresh herbs and vegetables. At first, Araminta thought perhaps the cats wanted to sneak in for a bit of basil or a pinch of parsley, but no, the tree seemed to be their destination.

  Araminta followed them, trying to understand why they’d brought her out here, but after a minute or so of them pacing back along the edge of the shade from the tree, she began to wonder if they’d only wanted to come out to play.

  Allowing them their freedom, she used the time to pull some weeds from the flowers under the tree. Yancy, the gardener, had told her they were one of the few flowers that thrived in the shade, and their delicate white bell-shaped petals made for a perfect ground cover. They had a lovely, sweet fragrance and looked wonderful in shallow vases too. In fact, someone must have been picking them, since she could see some spots where flowers were missing. Most likely Trinity, who always kept the vases in the mansion overflowing with flowers fresh from the extensive gardens, had picked them.

  As she marveled at the flowers, Arun and Sasha paced about, meowing and strutting. Now, why had they brought her here?

  As she looked up at the tree again, a fuzzy memory from two nights ago bubbled up. Her room faced out onto this garden. She always loved looking out at the branches of the tree, where birds could be seen hopping about. But the other night, when she’d had a bout of insomnia and had decided to gaze out at the stars from her window, she’d seen something more than birds out here. She’d seen Daisy meeting with a mysterious person. She’d actually forgotten about it, as she’d gone back to bed shortly thereafter and slept soundly for hours.

  Maybe Sasha and Arun came here because they were trying to remind her of that. She hadn’t been able to make out who Daisy was meeting with because all she’d seen was a figure of a man in shadow, but she knew it wasn’t her nephew or the gardener. Was it possible that Daisy was having an affair? She hoped not because she’d come to like Daisy over the past several years. It was difficult to imagine she might step out on her nephew. Was that what the cats wanted her to think about?

  The side door leading to the kitchen opened, and Mary came out. Arms akimbo, she fussed at the cats. She didn’t see Araminta there with them, probably because she was still kneeling on the ground.

  “Go on, then. Get out of there! You’re ruining what’s left of the edibles! Don’t either of you dare to take a wee in there. I’ll never get anything to grow after that.” Reaching just inside the kitchen door, she grabbed a broom and swished it around. She would never strike one of Araminta’s pets with the thing, but she wasn’t above threatening them, if that was what it took to shoo them out. “Off with you! Out, I say!”

  Araminta’s eyes narrowed as she watched, her mind picking up on something in the cook’s tone. Mary had to shoo the cats out of the garden multiple times a week, but she seemed a tad angrier tonight.

  Or she could be upset about Archie’s death, Araminta reminded herself. It must be disturbing for the staff to have this upheaval, and Mary had served the family for decades and was fond of Archie.

  Under threat of the broom looming in Mary’s hand, Sasha and Arun streaked to Araminta’s side.

  “Oh, my pardon, Ms. Moorecliff. I didn’t realize you were there,” Mary said. She put the broom back inside. “The cats needed a little air, did they?”

  Araminta scooped Sasha up and stood while Arun paused to groom himself nearby.

  “I think they just wanted to run off some excess energy,” Araminta told her. “Things are more than a bit tense inside.”

  Mary nodded. “I’m so sorry about your nephew. Archie has always been nice to us. I—I can’t quite believe he’s died.”

  Araminta tried to discern whether what she saw in the woman’s eyes was fear or concern, but it was too dark to be sure, so she gathered the cats to go inside. “Neither can I, Mary. Neither can I.”

  On her way through the kitchen, Araminta couldn’t shake the ominous feelings she had about what had happened with her nephew. There was something too neat and orderly about it, and it had happened so fast. Something wasn’t right.

  Sasha jumped out of her arms and bolted through the kitchen the minute Araminta stepped inside. Arun followed Sasha, though a bit more slowly, as if he were waiting for Araminta to catch up. She was almost past Archie’s study when she realized the cats had paused. Peering through the barely cracked door, she saw Bernard inside. He was standing behind the desk, facing the credenza. She couldn’t blame him for admiring it. It was a lovely piece with fluted columns on the side and a bookcase on top with a storage section that boasted leaded stained-glass doors.

  The minute she pushed open the door, he hastily shoved the glass doors closed and turned around.

  He cleared his throat. “Just looking for something to read.”

  Araminta squinted at the shelves, which were loaded with rows of books, most of them nonfiction books on business. They were arranged quite artfully, some spine out, some lying on their sides and interspersed with various knickknacks.

  Araminta had a feeling he was really snooping around in the company books, because she had seen Daisy and Archie store them there once when they’d finished going over them in the evenings. But if he’d been looking at the books, why? As CEO of the West Coast operation, surely he would already be privy to whatever information lay inside.

  “News of Archie’s death will be such a shock to the investors, won’t it?” Araminta asked her nephew. “With him gone, I wonder who will be taking care of the East Coast side of Moorecliff Motors.”

  Bernard shooed the cats off the desk, away from the cupboard where he’d just closed the door. Arun tried again, but Bernard caught him and carried the disgruntled feline to the door. Sasha followed as he stepped out into the hallway, where he deposited Arun on the floor then went back into the study, where Araminta still waited. He closed the door, leaving the cats to wait for her outside.

  “I will take over the East Coast division, of course. With Archie gone, the entire company will be my responsibility. I can assure you I shall manage it with pride.”

  “Hm. Well, I suppose we will just have to wait and see. Surely my nephew had a will. One wonders precisely what he’s put inside.”

  Bernard nodded, and for some reason, Araminta thought he looked a little smug. “Of course. But I’m certain I would be left in control of the business. After all, besides Archie himself, who knows it better than I?”

  Chapter Four

  Araminta had waited for Bernard to leave Archie’s study before leaving the room herself. She stepped out into the hallway, closing the door carefully, but still there was a gentle “snick” when the lock caught. The noise startled Reginald, who was standing by an antique marble-topped mahogany table, holding an even older antique vase. For a second, she thought he would drop it onto the floor, but he managed to recover and hold on to the thing.

  “Oh! Aunt Minta, you startled me!” Reginald cradled the vase for a moment then placed it carefully on the hallway table before turning to her with a wobbly smile. “I was just headed upstairs.”

  Araminta’s gaze drifted to the vase. They had vases galore all over the house, most of them filled with freshly cut flowers, but this one was empty. Good thing, too, because she recognized the vibrant blue and white birds and Oriental figures depicting a fishing scene as a rare Ming dynasty vase worth thousands. Had Reggie just saved it from toppling to the floor? Lucky thing.

  “How are you doing?” Araminta noticed how much Reggie resembled his father. He was in his late twenties now, and his dark hair had a few gray strands. He was much slimmer than Archie, but he was young still and unmarried. The added weight would come once he found a wife and settled down.

  He scrubbed his hands over this face, and Araminta could see his gray eyes were bloodshot and his mouth sad. She was sure the loss of his father was hitting him hard.

  “I’m okay. I still can’t believe it. Dad’s gone.” His eyes misted. “It feels awfu
l.”

  It sure did. “I know, dear. It was so painfully sudden.”

  Reggie nodded then took a deep breath. “That’s why I was going to my room so early. I just need to be alone and let it sink in.”

  “Ah, well, you’d best get to it, then. Good night, scamp.” Araminta lifted her cheek for a kiss from her great-nephew, which he disbursed in an unusual hurry then rushed upstairs to his room. Araminta watched him until he reached the top of the stairs then looked down at the cats.

  Arun and Sasha didn’t waste time watching him. They leapt onto the table and began to inspect and sniff the vase.

  “Everyone seems a bit off-kilter, yes?” Araminta reached over to stroke Arun’s silky fur, and he arched his back to meet her hand. “But I guess it’s to be expected, considering the recent death in the house.”

  The cats continued to have a look at the vase then jumped from the table. Scampering toward the stairs, Sasha looked back as if to check to see if Araminta was following.

  “Yes, yes, I’m right behind you.”

  Araminta’s suite of rooms was on the second floor on the north side of the house. As she headed in that direction, Daisy opened her bedroom door and stepped into the hallway, letting out a gasp as she saw Araminta. “Araminta. You surprised me. I was feeling a bit peckish and thought I would head to the kitchen to see what’s detained Harold with my tray.”

  Daisy glanced at the now-closed bedroom door, tears pooling in her eyes. “The room is so lonely without Archie!”

  The tears began to fall, and Araminta patted her shoulder then tried a gentle hug in an effort to console her. “There, there, dear. I know it’s difficult, losing Archie so suddenly. But there is one thing to be grateful for. I’m sure you will be well taken care of, and at least you won’t have to deal with trying to run a company in addition to dealing with this terrible loss.”

  Daisy pulled back and frowned. “Why do you say that? I will be the one running the company. It’s what Archie wanted. I—I thought everyone already knew that.”

  “Oh, well, I…” Araminta had never considered that Daisy would take over the company, and judging by her earlier conversation with Bernard, she hadn’t been the only one to make assumptions.

  “Yes, I will inherit his stock in the company and assume control. And of course, the house and a good chunk of the money. There are trust funds, of course, for the kids. Archie didn’t think they were ready for the responsibility of dealing with so much money yet. Those, too, are to be administered by me.”

  A slight smile curved her lips when she heard Harold coming up the back stairs. He held a shiny silver tray, upon which sat a dainty white porcelain soup bowl with what looked like lobster bisque and a matching white plate with half of a grilled cheese sandwich.

  Daisy took the tray then stared at the food. “I don’t even know if I can eat any of this. I feel so out of sorts.”

  “You have to try, dear.”

  Arun must have gotten tired of waiting for Araminta to go to her room, so he jumped up on his back legs and kneaded her knee with his front ones. Araminta scooped him up and nuzzled his fur then put him down and sent the cats on ahead. “Run along, you two. I’ll be along in a minute. It’s past all our bedtimes.”

  But Arun wasn’t leaving yet. Instead, he started circling Daisy’s feet, which reminded Araminta of her thoughts in the garden. Daisy had been out there the other night… only a day before her husband’s death… and she hadn’t been alone.

  “Maybe some air in the garden will help like it did the other night. I saw you from my window the other evening. I assumed you were unable to sleep… until I saw your visitor, of course.”

  Daisy’s eyes shuttered, and she looked away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I wasn’t in the garden. Perhaps you saw Mary and Harold. Sometimes they go out there in the evenings to have a bit of tea.”

  Araminta didn’t want to accuse her niece by marriage of hedging or denying the truth, but she knew what she saw. It was definitely Daisy out there.

  Daisy backed toward her room. “Or Reggie? Yes, perhaps you saw Reggie and—and a girl, right?” A nervous laugh escaped her. “You know how young men his age are.”

  Araminta considered the possibility, but it didn’t hold. No, it was Daisy she’d seen in the garden. She was sure of it. Just as sure as she was that she’d seen Daisy with a man. But Daisy was adamant she hadn’t been out there, so perhaps Araminta was mistaken. She made a mental note to make an appointment with her eye doctor.

  Not wanting to upset the woman who had just lost her husband, Araminta let it go and said her good nights. She left Daisy standing in the hallway and made her way to her room. Was it possible there had been someone else out there in the shadows last night?

  Of course, it was possible… but Araminta didn’t think so.

  Chapter Five

  The next morning, Araminta was up early. She had never been the type to sleep in, and this morning was no exception. She wasn’t the only one awake shortly after dawn. She met Daisy in the hallway as she made her way to the breakfast room.

  “Good morning, Daisy. I hope you slept well.”

  “As well as can be expected, I suppose,” Daisy answered. Her expression puzzled, she said, “Lovely outfit this morning.”

  Araminta touched the lapels of her black silk jacket, brushed her palms along the sides of the black-and-neon-green skirt, then turned this way and that to show off the ensemble she’d chosen to wear on the first day after Archibald’s death. “It is, isn’t it? Thank you. I thought it appropriate, considering. There is a matching hat, but I don’t think I’ll need it. I won’t be outside much today.”

  “Er, yes. Well…” Daisy started then paused when the peal of the doorbell interrupted whatever she had been about to say.

  Araminta glanced down at the end of the hallway, where Harold stood busily arranging a vase of freshly cut flowers that sat on a gilded side table. Lost in his work, he didn’t even look up. Poor Harold, his hearing must be getting worse. He must not have heard the bell.

  “Excuse me,” Daisy said. She hurried to Harold and gently tapped his shoulder. “Harold, dear, there is someone at the door.”

  Harold’s expression went from questioning to blank. “Yes, of course. I was just finishing up.”

  He gave the flowers one last twitch then walked off toward the front of the house.

  Daisy sighed and turned back to Araminta. “He’s such a dear.”

  “Indeed, but the fellow is as deaf as a post and twice as blind!”

  Araminta’s customary bluntness brought a quick smile to Daisy’s lips. It flickered and was immediately squashed when Harold returned with news.

  “It’s Inspector Hershey, madams. I have placed him in the front parlor. I will have Trinity bring a tray with coffee and sweets to sample while he waits for one of you,” Harold told them.

  Daisy thanked the butler then headed toward the front parlor, her expression dim. “You may join me if you wish, Araminta. If he’s back again so soon after Archibald’s death, he can’t possibly be bringing good news.”

  Araminta didn’t need urging. She was already fast on Daisy’s heels. “Of course I shall join you. Archie’s death was such a shock to us all, but I believe Bernard and Reggie are still fast asleep. You shouldn’t have to face the inspector on your own, whatever his news.”

  Araminta really did want to give Daisy her support and didn’t want her to face the police alone, but more than that, she was dying to hear what they had to say, because Daisy was right—if they were here this soon, it had to mean the case had taken a turn.

  The front parlor was a bright room that was crowded with velvet-upholstered carved-mahogany furniture. Back when Araminta was younger, the room had been very dark and imposing, but Daisy had had the heavy velvet drapes removed and sheers installed along the row of arched windows, which had really brightened the place up.

  Ivan got to his feet when Daisy and Araminta stepped into the room. For
a second, Araminta was transported to days gone by and similar scenes with Ivan’s grandfather. Usually, those did not end well. The two men actually looked a bit alike. Both were tall and had thick wavy hair, a long aquiline nose, and piercing blue eyes. She hoped Ivan was a lot less of a stick-in-the-mud than his grandfather. Araminta noted the bit of stiffness in Ivan’s shoulders and braced herself. No one was as tense as he was if they were bringing positive information. “What have you learned about Archie?”

  Ivan cleared his throat. “Ah, perhaps you should sit.”

  Daisy did so, perching carefully on the edge of the rose chintz Queen Anne wingback chair nearest the fireplace, but Araminta waved his suggestion away. “Out with it, Hershey. Was the cause of our darling Archibald’s death a heart attack, as we all suspect it was?”

  “No,” Archie informed them. “I’m afraid your nephew was murdered, Ms. Moorecliff. Archibald was poisoned. Either he did the deed himself—which is highly unlikely—or someone among you went to some lengths to make sure he didn’t survive dinner.”

  Daisy’s gasp filled the room. She slumped against the back of the chair. Araminta understood her horror but ignored her for the moment. If someone in this house had murdered Archie, Ivan must know how and have some suspicions about who. Araminta needed that information.

  “Poison?” she asked the inspector. “What kind of poison?”

  “Convallatoxin,” Ivan said. “While the amount we found in his bloodstream might not have killed anyone else, it was enough to kill Archie because he already had a heart condition.”

  Araminta felt as if she’d been dealt a blow. Who in this household would have wanted Archie dead? Every one of them was family.

  “Given that the toxin takes effect within twenty minutes of being administered, we have concluded it must have been in the food,” Hershey continued. “Has anyone else in the household complained of malaise? Anyone else who ingested it would certainly have become ill.”