by Amy M. Reade
Cadi covered her mouth with her hands and Sian sat down heavily on Annabel’s bed, her eyes closed and a look of pain on her face. I couldn’t believe this was happening. Annabel had been perfectly healthy just a day ago. I could feel my breath coming faster and my legs turned to jelly. I sat down quickly next to Sian.
Hugh quickly took charge of the situation. “Eilidh, please tell Maisie to show the doctor upstairs as soon as he gets here. Cadi, please call the police.”
“What for?” his wife asked.
“Because she’s been found dead in her own home and showed no signs of being sick. That’s why.”
Cadi gave her husband a look full of scorn and left the room. My stomach lurched as I stood up to follow her, and I ran into Annabel’s bathroom, hoping I wouldn’t be sick to my stomach. I splashed cold water on my face and was able to collect myself before heading downstairs in search of Maisie. Cadi was waiting for me in the great hall.
“What do you think happened?” she asked in a whisper.
“I don’t know.” I didn’t know what to think, what to say. I was simultaneously horrified and shocked and confused. I missed Annabel already. What could have happened to her? She had been weak, yes, but she was able to speak. Had she suffered a heart attack or a stroke? Was it something she ate? It had all started with a stomachache. I thought back to the meals she had eaten, then realized I hadn’t been with her the previous night at dinner. I made a mental note to speak with Maisie about Annabel’s last dinner. She had refused breakfast, so food from earlier in the morning hadn’t made her sick. We had all eaten the same things for breakfast and lunch the previous day, and as long as the rest of us stayed healthy it probably ruled out those foods as a cause of Annabel’s illness. I hurriedly dialed the doctor and asked that he come out to the castle as soon as possible, then went looking for Maisie. I finally found her standing in the doorway of Annabel’s room, crying openly. I put my arm around her plump shoulders.
“What if something I cooked caused this?” she asked in a worried voice. “I’d never be able to live with myself. Dear, sweet Annabel.”
“Let’s not jump to conclusions about what caused this,” I suggested. “The doctor should be here soon. Could you show him up here as soon as he arrives? Cadi called the police. I’m sure they’ll be here first.”
Maisie wrung the handkerchief she was holding. “And this so soon after Andreas’s death.” I could do nothing but shake my head slowly. It was inexplicable.
The police arrived in only a few minutes. Even through the thick walls of the castle I could hear their sirens approaching. I wondered why they had their sirens on. It was too late for Annabel.
Maisie was already holding the door open for them when they came up to the front of the castle. Two officers walked briskly into the main hall and waited for Maisie to close the door and show them to Annabel’s room. I was watching them from the stairway and I spoke to them as Maisie escorted them upstairs.
“I found her,” I told them. “I had gone down to the kitchen for a cup of tea for her and when I came back she was on the floor.”
The police officers both nodded, and one whipped out a small book and began to make notations with a stubby pencil. “What is your name?” he asked.
“Eilidh Stewart.” He wrote that down.
Maisie stopped outside Annabel’s bedroom door and didn’t seem to want to step inside. I ushered the officers into the room and stood aside while they made everyone move out of the way, examined the body, made notes, and took photos. They turned to Hugh.
“Are you a relative of the deceased?” the younger officer asked. I cringed at the impersonality of the question. He must be relatively new, since Annabel was well-known in the community.
Hugh nodded. “I’m her son.”
The other officer chimed in. “He’s the younger brother of Andreas Tucker, who died last week.” The first officer nodded, looking slightly embarrassed.
The police then took the names and home addresses of everyone in the room, including Maisie, who was still standing in the doorway, obviously reluctant to come in.
“Come in, please, ma’am,” one of the officers said to her. He wrote down her name and asked who else worked for Annabel.
Maisie said she would go look for Brenda and I told him that Griff was probably out in the stables. “Do you want me to go get him?” I asked.
“No. We’ll go out and find him,” the officer answered. “Anyone else in the house?”
“Not in the house, but we have a visitor staying in the coach house. It’s my cousin—she’s here on holiday.”
“We’ll need to talk to her, too. Can you show me where this coach house is?” I nodded. He left his partner in charge of Annabel’s bedroom and I walked with him out to the coach house. There were countless questions I wanted to ask him while we walked, but I remained silent. I wondered what was going through his mind. Did Annabel die from natural causes? Did something else cause her death? Even though I knew calling the police had been the proper thing to do, merely having them at the scene of Annabel’s death lent a suspicious note to the situation.
I knocked on the door to the coach house and Sylvie answered just a moment later. Her eyes widened in surprise when she saw the officer standing next to me.
“What’s going on?” Then, recovering herself, she said, “Come in.” She stood aside so the officer and I could enter.
“Annabel passed away,” I said simply. Sylvie gasped. “I found her on the floor of her bedroom after I had come in from my ride this morning.”
“How did she die?”
“We don’t know. That’s why we called the police. The doctor’s on his way.”
“Mum will be crushed,” Sylvie said softly. She turned to me with sad eyes. “I’m so sorry, Eilidh. I know how much you cared for Annabel. Are you all right?”
I swallowed hard. “Not really.”
The police officer gave my cousin a questioning look. “How did you know Annabel Baines?”
“She was one of my mum’s best friends.”
The officer sat down on one of the sofas in the salon and Sylvie sat opposite him. There appeared to be no need for me to stay, so I returned to the castle, where the doctor had just driven up.
“Doctor, thank you for coming,” I said in greeting as I met him at the front door.
“Tell me what happened,” he said, wasting no time in getting to the bottom of his patient’s condition.
I related everything that had happened since the previous evening, and he nodded gravely. “I wish she had called me,” he said.
“There really didn’t seem to be any need to,” I explained. “It appeared to be nothing more than a sour stomach.”
“She’s getting up there in years,” he said, giving me a dark look. “Things can be more complicated as a patient ages.” I didn’t want to discuss it. The last thing I needed was to be told I might have prevented Annabel’s death if I had recognized that this had been a case for the doctor.
He knew where Annabel’s room was, so he led the way once we reached the top of the stairs. He went in before me and suggested to Cadi and Sian, both of whom were standing outside Annabel’s door, that they return to their rooms for a while. I could hear them whispering as they walked away. The doctor hadn’t asked me to leave, so I stayed to watch him. Hugh and Rhisiart looked on from where they stood near one of the windows. The other police officer stood quietly in the corner of the room.
The doctor knelt down next to Annabel’s body. He felt her wrist for a pulse, then her neck. He reached into the black leather bag he had brought with him and drew out a stethoscope. He listened to her chest for several moments, then folded the stethoscope and placed it slowly back into the bag. “She was a lovely lady,” he said in a quiet voice. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to help.”
“It happened so fast,” I said, half to mysel
f.
“Tell me what she’s been doing the past few days,” he said.
“Physically, there’s been nothing out of the ordinary,” I said. “But you know, of course, that her son passed away and she’s been mourning him. He left behind a wife who’s staying here with us, and she’s pregnant, about to give birth very soon. Annabel was worried about everyone visiting because she wanted their holiday to be perfect, so that caused her some stress before their visit, then when Andreas died she lost her compass for a while. Just yesterday, though, she asked me to have the groom ready her favorite horse so she could go riding. She didn’t end up going, but she had the desire.”
“What has she been eating and drinking?” the doctor asked.
“She’s eaten the same things as the rest of us, except I’m not sure what she had for dinner last night. I went to a cooking class with her son Rhisiart, her daughter-in-law Cadi, and my cousin, who’s here on holiday. Annabel had dinner here at home, as far as I know.”
“Can you ask Maisie what she served for dinner last night?” he asked. He knew Maisie from many years of being Annabel’s personal doctor.
“I’ll do that right now,” I offered.
I hurried down to the kitchen, where Maisie and Brenda were talking together. “I’m sorry to interrupt,” I said, stepping over the threshold. “But the doctor is asking what Annabel had for dinner last night.”
“And so it begins,” Maisie said, nodding at Brenda. “What did I tell you? They’re already looking at my cooking as something that could have killed Annabel.” Two tears made their way slowly down her cheeks and dropped from her chin onto the floor.
“Maisie, I don’t think they believe anything you cooked made Annabel ill. The doctor is just asking questions at this point, gathering information about Annabel’s last hours.”
“How long do you think it’ll be before he knows how Annabel died?” Brenda asked.
I shook my head. “I wish I knew. Hopefully very soon. So Maisie, what did Annabel have for dinner last night?”
I could see Maisie was beside herself with anxiety. Her right eye was twitching ever so slightly and her hands shook. “I can’t even think,” she said.
“Don’t you keep a list somewhere of the meals you cook?”
“Yes. I’ll look at that.” She pulled a tattered notebook from a drawer and flipped to a page near the back.
“Ham and bean soup, bread and butter, and a pear. She had tea to drink.” Maisie snapped her fingers. “I remember she said she didn’t want much to eat because Hugh was going to the pub for dinner and it would just be her and Sian in the dining room. Sian isn’t eating very much at this point because she’s so uncomfortable after she eats.”
“I’m glad you wrote it all down. That makes an easy record for the doctor. Anything else in the notebook from yesterday?”
“Just that lunch was ham sandwiches. Breakfast was the usual.” Meaning there were a variety of foods available on the sideboard in the dining room, including porridge, eggs, toast, mushrooms, tomatoes, and breakfast meats. I couldn’t recall exactly what Annabel had eaten, though I was sure it had been nothing out of the ordinary.
I squeezed Maisie’s hand before returning to Annabel’s bedroom. “Don’t worry, Maisie. We’ll get this straightened out. Nobody thinks you would do anything to hurt Annabel.” She nodded and gave me a worried look.
“Thank you.”
I reported everything Maisie had told me when I found the doctor in Annabel’s room. He stroked his chin. “That doesn’t sound unusual. Probably not food or drink. We’ll have to see what the medical examination shows.”
“Is that going to happen here?” I asked, a sudden and unreasonable fear taking hold in my chest.
“No. We’re going to have to take her to the medical examiner’s office for that.”
I knew Annabel wouldn’t want that and I told Hugh as much when he came back into the room. I told him I was apprehensive about letting her body leave the castle for an autopsy. My fears, however, were ignored. “By all means you should take her to the proper office to determine what caused her death,” he said in an authoritative voice. It was then I realized that Hugh was probably in charge now, as her likely heir. It wouldn’t be known for sure until Annabel’s will was read, but I think we all assumed Hugh would be making all the necessary arrangements.
The doctor made a call on his mobile phone and requested that an ambulance be sent to the castle to pick up Annabel’s body for transport to the medical examiner’s office. When he rang off he turned to me. “I’d like to speak to the police officer. Would you please excuse us?” I nodded and closed the door firmly behind me when I went out into the hallway. Sian and Cadi had disappeared and I didn’t care where they had gone. I only wanted to go to my room to think.
It was cold in my bedroom, but I had a fire crackling and roaring in just a few minutes. I sat in front of the hearth in my armchair and stared into the flames leaping and dancing. I missed Annabel already. Talking to my cousin would probably have been good, but I didn’t want to be around other people just then. Besides, if the police had any more questions for me, they would want me nearby.
Tears didn’t come as I had expected them to. I wanted to cry, but I couldn’t. It didn’t seem real that Annabel was gone. I wondered idly what would happen to the castle, who would own it, who would move in after the rest of us had gone our separate ways. I wondered what I would do for a job, but I didn’t feel a sense of anxiety or worry—only a heaviness in my heart.
I wondered about Maisie and Brenda. What would they do? Maisie had worked for Annabel for many years and if I knew Maisie, she would already be beside herself with worry about what she would do for a new job. Brenda, being much younger, would probably find something in short order, but it might not be with her mother. I knew they liked working together, even if some frustration with each other crept into their work at times.
Eventually, warmed by the fire and weary of all that had happened, I fell asleep in my chair. I awoke to a knock at my door. “Eilidh?” a voice called. It was Brenda. “The police are looking for you.”
“Thanks, Brenda,” I called. I tried to disguise the sleepiness in my voice. “I’ll be right out.”
The officers were waiting for me in the sitting room. I was glad to see neither had chosen to sit in Annabel’s favorite chair. “How can I help you?” I asked.
“We’re told you were Annabel’s right hand.”
“I don’t know that I would describe myself that way, but I did manage most of her affairs.”
“Do you know if she had a will?”
“I’m sure she did, but I don’t know where it is or what it says. I suppose her barrister would know the answer to that.”
“Can you give us the name of her barrister?”
“I can. She used Mr. Hadley from Cardiff,” I added, implying that a quick visit to see Annabel’s barrister wouldn’t be likely. Cardiff was over an hour away.
“Thank you. We’ll have someone get in touch with him.”
I went to my desk and rifled through a file that held recent correspondence from Annabel. I knew I had posted a note to the barrister and that he had responded in kind. He shared Annabel’s aversion to technology. In just a moment I had located his address and telephone number. I wrote down the information the officers had requested and handed them the paper. “Do you have any idea how Annabel died?” I asked tentatively. I wasn’t sure it was my place to be asking such questions.
It didn’t matter. “We don’t have anything yet. We need to wait for the medical examiner’s report before we know what we’re dealing with here.”
“So what happens now?” I asked.
“We’re still waiting for the ambulance to retrieve the body for transport.” I winced at his words. The ambulance wasn’t transporting just a body—it was transporting Annabel.
I
was suddenly ravenous. “Would you excuse me, please?” I asked. I should have used my manners and asked if the officers wanted anything from the kitchen, but I was tiring of the way they kept referring to Annabel and I wanted to get away from them for a little while. Both officers nodded and I left.
When I went downstairs, I could hear someone crying. Maisie was sitting at the small kitchen table, weeping as though her heart would break. I sat down across from her. I didn’t say anything—I didn’t have to. I knew what was going through her mind and heart. They were the same feelings going through my mind and heart. We mourned Annabel, we wondered about our jobs, and we felt guilty for worrying about our jobs at such a sad time. Maisie had the added concern that something she cooked could be blamed for causing Annabel’s death. We sat quietly at the table until Maisie was able to compose herself. She wiped her eyes and said with an embarrassed laugh, “Sorry you had to see that. Not too pretty, is it?”
“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” I told her. “I know exactly how you feel.”
“You couldn’t possibly understand,” she said, shaking her head.
“We’re in the same boat, Maisie. We’ve both lost a friend, a boss, and probably a job.”
She nodded, wiping her eyes with the corner of her apron. Brenda came through the door. “Mum, you’re not still crying,” she said. It wasn’t a question.
“I can’t help it,” Maisie told her daughter.
“You’ve got a job to do,” Brenda reminded her. “We haven’t been sacked yet and people still need to eat. Maybe they’ll keep us on if they realize they still need us even though Annabel is gone.”
Maisie let out a choked sob, followed quickly by a hiccup. “You’re right, of course. I’m just having a hard time with it, that’s all.” She hiccupped again. Brenda came and put her arms around her mum’s shoulders.
“I’m not always flighty, see?” she said with a smile. Maisie reached up and squeezed Brenda’s hand. “Now that you’re feeling a bit better, I’ve got work to do upstairs,” Brenda said. She leaned down and kissed her mum’s cheek. Maisie smiled wistfully as she watched Brenda leave the room.
