by Amy M. Reade
I decided to lie. “I haven’t seen her.”
“I’ve been looking for her. She’s supposed to help me clean the cupboards now that they’re almost totally bare.” The tone of her voice held an edge of anger. I didn’t know if the anger was because she couldn’t find Brenda or because the cupboards, normally bulging with good things to eat, were empty.
“If I see her I’ll tell her you’re looking for her,” I said a little too brightly.
“Thank you.” Maisie looked into the distance, away across the fields behind the castle. Our conversation was apparently over. I felt a pang of sympathy for her. I knew she was worried about being a suspect in Annabel’s death because of her position as the person who fed everyone in the castle, but she was probably concerned about her daughter, too. If she knew of Brenda’s drug habit, and I assumed she did, she was no doubt worried sick about it.
I didn’t see anyone else as I continued my walk around the outside of the castle. When I went back inside I felt better, more refreshed. I went to my room and was able to read the Everest biography for a long time before putting it aside to get ready to go to dinner in the village.
I didn’t mean to, but I spent a long time getting ready for dinner. Part of the problem was that many of my usual beauty products were missing, having been confiscated by the police. The other part of the problem was that I was finding myself taking extra care with my hair and the little bit of makeup I still had. I was certainly old enough to realize that I didn’t want to be in a relationship with Griff if he only liked what he saw on the outside, but I couldn’t help myself. I wanted to look nice.
And Sylvie confirmed it for me when I greeted her in the great hall just a little while later. She let out a long whistle. “Look at you!” she exclaimed. “Maybe we should let you and Griff eat dinner alone!”
I could feel myself blushing, and I smiled broadly. “Do I look okay?” I asked, turning in a circle.
“You are beautiful inside and out. And Griff sees it, too. I know he does.” How did she always seem to know just what I was thinking?
“I’m starving,” she said. “I can stand here all night telling you how lovely you are or we can go meet Griff at the pub. I hope they have fish and chips on the menu tonight.”
I led the way out to the parking enclosure and drove us over to the pub, where Griff was already waiting at a booth. I hesitated for just a moment, then slid in next to him while Sylvie sat across from us. Votive candles flickered on the tabletop and a fire crackled in the huge fireplace that took up the far wall of the pub. The place was crowded because the food was so good.
The three of us enjoyed a hearty meal. Sylvie pronounced her fish and chips the best she’d tasted since leaving Scotland. I had a juicy cheeseburger with fried onions and Griff had a large bowl of mutton stew. Everyone agreed we should meet there more often for dinner.
Talk, of course, centered on the actions of the police and the medical examiner. We speculated as to how Annabel could have been poisoned and who might have done such a thing. Sylvie wondered whether she would be allowed to return to Scotland at the end of her holiday if the police didn’t have a suspect in custody.
“I would think so,” Griff said in answer to Sylvie’s concern. “Even if the police don’t have a suspect in custody, at least they can rule out certain people.” Again, I appreciated Griff’s level-headedness. He could cut through the emotion of a situation and see it more rationally than I could.
“I don’t even want to think about you leaving,” I told Sylvie. “How is Seamus doing without you, anyway?” I asked. I turned to Griff. “You should meet her husband. He’s wonderful.” Griff smiled and looked at Sylvie expectantly as he slipped his arm around my shoulders across the back of the booth. I felt a tiny flutter of butterflies in my stomach and I noticed Sylvie grin ever so slightly.
Our talk turned to Seamus. We spent a long time entertaining Griff with tales about Seamus and his work.
As the hours stretched into the late evening, I noticed several patrons had left the pub, leaving the cozy space less crowded. I noticed for the first time that someone was listening to our conversations from a nearby table. Rhisiart.
He was alone, nursing a pint of Guinness and keeping an ear cocked toward our table. I wondered if he had been there all evening, just listening. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t noticed him before, but I had been enjoying myself with my two companions, not paying attention to anyone else in the pub.
He saw me looking at him and he raised his glass slightly toward me in a silent toast. I realized I had missed whatever Sylvie was saying.
“Eilidh?” she asked. “Do you remember that?”
“Hmm?” I asked, turning back to the others. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”
Sylvie had followed my eyes and saw Rhisiart. She lowered her voice. “How long has he been here? He gives me the creeps.”
“Why do you suppose he’s sitting there all alone?” Griff asked. “Do you think he’s been listening to us?”
“I don’t know,” I replied, “but suddenly I’m ready to go back to the castle. It’s a good thing I didn’t spot him until now, or he would have ruined my appetite.” The vehemence of my feelings toward Rhisiart’s appearance surprised even me.
We called for the check and it took us a few minutes to figure out the bill. We all chipped in and left the server a hefty tip, considering we had commandeered the table all evening. When we stood up to leave, Griff helped me with my coat. I glanced over at Rhisiart, who gave me a sardonic grin.
I wondered about Rhisiart all the way back to the castle, where Cadi was just arriving from London as we drove up to the front. She was standing near the door and waiting for the taxi driver to unload her bags from the boot. I let Sylvie out of my car and she walked away to the coach house in the darkness. I pulled the car around to the parking enclosure and stepped into the cold night air. Normally I would have gone inside using the door that led to the enclosure, but for some reason that door was locked. It was a rule below stairs in the castle that if anyone was out using one of the cars, that door would be left unlocked so the person could get back inside without having to walk all the way around to the front, particularly in the darkness and the cold. But this night it was locked, so I had no choice but to trudge across the enclosure and out along the wide stone path that led to the front.
I hadn’t gone far when I heard a noise in front of me. I stopped for a moment to listen, but the noise stopped. It was a soft rustle, like a sound the wind would make blowing through tall, dead grass.
I took a tentative step forward, then heard a different sort of a noise. This was a whisper. And it was whispering my name.
“Eilidh. Eilidh.”
I stopped again and looked around, squinting to see anything in the darkness and wondering for the first time why all the lights were out on this side of the castle.
“Who’s there?” I called in a loud whisper. I didn’t know why we were whispering.
“It’s me. Cadi.” She stepped out of the shadow of the castle and stood on the path in front of me. I started, giving a little gasp.
“Cadi, you scared me. What are you doing?”
“Hugh doesn’t know I’m back yet. I didn’t tell him when I would be arriving from London. What’s been going on?”
“Nothing. It’s just the same as when you left. You weren’t gone very long.”
“I know. I got to feeling bad about leaving so I turned around and came back almost as soon as I got to London.”
“Annabel’s service is the day after tomorrow. You were going to come back in time for that anyway, weren’t you?”
“Yes.” I could see her a bit better now that she wasn’t hidden in shadow.
“So why are you out here? Why didn’t you just go inside and unpack?”
“I wanted to talk to you. Have they found out how Annabel died?”
“Yes. She was poisoned.”
She gripped my arm. “Poisoned? With what? Who did it?”
I gently released my arm from her grasp and began walking toward the front of the castle, hoping she would follow. I was cold and I was a little uncomfortable whispering with her in the dark.
“She was poisoned by a plant called wolfsbane, which has grown for years in the English cottage garden along the western side of the castle. The police and the medical examiner are trying to figure out who did it and how.”
“They’ve talked to everyone? Even Sian?”
I noticed the changed tone of her voice right away. It was lower, more conspiratorial. “Yes, they’ve talked to all of us, including Sian. They haven’t announced their suspicions, though I hardly expect them to do that. I’m sure they’ll want to talk to you now that you’re back.”
“I’ll have no choice but to tell them what I know,” she said. I knew she was dying for me to ask her what she knew, but I found suddenly that I didn’t want to be involved in whatever Cadi was planning. I didn’t want to know what she knew or what she was going to tell the police.
“I suppose you need to tell them the truth,” I said noncommittally, quickening my steps. She took my arm again and held me back, and I knew before she said anything that she was going to tell me her secret about Sian.
“You know Sian is an avid gardener, right? We visited her and Andreas once and their house has plants all over the place. Lush, thriving plants. She knows her way around a garden, believe me. Of course, I would never imply that Sian was responsible for Annabel’s death, but I do think it bears investigation by the authorities, don’t you?”
I didn’t say anything and she kept talking. “I know you probably don’t want to know all of this, given how close you were to Annabel, but we all deserve the truth.” And if the truth happens to involve implicating someone Cadi doesn’t like, then so much the better for her, I though with a grimace.
“Cadi, I’m freezing. Could we talk later, maybe? I’d really like to go inside,” I said.
“Oh, yes. Forgive me. I wasn’t thinking. This whole thing has me tied in knots,” she said. “Let’s get inside where it’s warm. We can talk later.”
I nodded and walked briskly in front of her until we reached the front door of the castle. I opened the door and stepped back to wait for her to cross the threshold, then I followed her inside. The warmth felt delicious after the frigid air outside. When she bent down to rifle through one of her bags I saw my chance to make my escape. “Brrr. I’m going to go build a fire first thing and crawl into bed. Goodnight, Cadi.” She grunted in return, still looking in her bag. I made a beeline for my room and closed the door firmly behind me, double-checking to make sure it was locked.
Once I was alone I got ready for bed while I mulled over Cadi’s words. I didn’t know very much about Sian; Annabel hadn’t known her well, either. Was it possible she knew a lot about plants? Was it even possible she was familiar with the toxicity of wolfsbane? I wondered if she had told the police everything she knew about gardening. I remembered with an uncomfortable jolt that I had seen Annabel and Sian leaving the cottage garden the day Andreas went missing. No doubt Annabel told Sian about the wolfsbane plant, knowing it could hurt the baby if Sian touched it.
Had Sian killed Annabel? And if so, why? Of course, it was possible that Cadi was not telling the truth, or at least not telling all of it.
I didn’t sleep well that night. My dreams were filled with visions of Andreas’s body, of Annabel’s last moments, and of Brenda’s surprise at finding me in the room where she was doing lines of coke, where she thought she was alone. Maisie cried throughout my dream, lending a melancholy note to all the mixed messages my brain was trying to process. I woke up several times throughout the night, each time sadder than the last.
When I finally dragged myself out of bed before dawn, I went downstairs for a cup of tea. Maisie was already working, having arrived at the castle an hour previously. She invited me to sit down with her at the kitchen table while we waited for the rest of the household to awaken.
“This is my favorite time of day,” she confided when we were both seated with steaming cups of tea before us. “It has been for years. It’s the only time of day when I feel everything is at peace. When Brenda was a baby I used to treasure the few minutes I had to myself in the morning. Not much has changed, really, even though Brenda has grown. I still love the minutes I spend alone each morning.”
“And I went and spoiled it by coming downstairs,” I said.
“No, no,” she hastened to assure me. “I’m glad you came down. I wanted to ask your opinion about something. Someone, actually.”
I gave her a wary glance. Memories, still fresh, of last night’s whispered conversation with Cadi sprang up unbidden. “What do you want my opinion for?” I asked.
“There’s a reason Annabel liked having you as her assistant so much. You’re trustworthy. And you have good instincts. I just want to plumb those instincts for a minute or two.”
“All right,” I said, wondering where this was leading.
“I want to know what Brenda has been up to. She likes you and she knows Annabel loved you. She trusts you because you’re closer in age to her than the rest of us. You remember most clearly what it was like to be a teenager,” she said with a rueful chuckle.
“I do remember,” I said. “It’s hard to be a teenager. So many temptations, so many things to remember, so many people telling you to do the right thing.”
“That’s exactly what I’m concerned about. I’m her mother. She doesn’t tell me anything. Of course I know she’s been doing drugs and I know she used to get them from Andreas, but I don’t know much other than that. I thought Andreas’s death might shock her into kicking her habit. But I don’t think that’s happened. I’d like your take on it.”
“How did you know she was using drugs?”
She gave me a sidelong look. “A mother knows those things.”
“How do you know she bought the drugs from Andreas?”
“I stumbled upon them one day on his last visit. They were in the middle of a ‘transaction’ and I read her the riot act afterwards. But I don’t think it helped. I’ve left pamphlets for her to find about the dangers of drug abuse, but I find them in the rubbish bin. I’ve tried talking to her calmly, but she’s not listening.”
“Maisie, I’m not sure I can help you. I only found out very recently that Brenda was using drugs, and I don’t think I’m the one to ask about whether she’s continued to use.”
“But surely you’ve noticed the red, rheumy eyes, the sniffling, the mood changes.”
“I have,” I said with a nod, “but honestly I thought the occasional red eyes and mood changes were from crying jags that are normal among girls her age. You know, unrequited love. I had no idea drugs played a part in her behavior at all.” I hoped my answer was ambiguous enough to stop Maisie from probing any further. I had promised Brenda I wouldn’t reveal her secret. Yet. I wondered now how I would handle the stickiness if Brenda didn’t stop using and I had to go to Maisie to tell her what I knew about Brenda’s cocaine habit. Maisie would accuse me of deceiving her, of knowing full well about Brenda’s drug use and not being forthcoming with the information. And could I blame her for feeling that way?
Everything was becoming more complicated by the day.
“Maisie, can you try talking to Brenda again?” I asked gently. “She’s the only one who can do anything about the drugs.”
“I know,” her mother said, her eyes glistening with tears. “But I’m the last person she wants to talk to and I can help her. If she would only ask for help. Or even realize she needs it. She’s ruining her life, but she won’t listen when I try to tell her that. But here’s what I want to know—have you noticed anything about her behavior that would lead you to believe she’s still taking d
rugs?”
“I haven’t noticed a change in Brenda’s behavior, if that’s what you’re asking,” I said. It was true. I knew she was still using cocaine and in my opinion her behavior didn’t suggest anything different.
“Would you tell me if you see anything?” Maisie asked. I gave a slight nod. She was getting dangerously close to asking me flat-out if I’d seen Brenda using drugs. I didn’t want to lie to my friend, especially when all she wanted was to help her daughter, but I had made a deal with my young friend, too. She would try to kick her habit and I wouldn’t tell her mother what I knew. But going forward, I wouldn’t be able to lie to Maisie. I would tell her the truth if I saw evidence of Brenda using any illegal drugs, since that was part of my deal with Brenda.
We sat in silence for several long minutes after that, each lost in our own thoughts in the quiet and warmth of the kitchen. But reality intruded before long and there was a ringing, the signal that someone upstairs wanted something from Maisie. The bell system was a relic from old days in the castle, much like the foot button upstairs that Annabel had used occasionally, and Annabel had insisted that it remain in place because it was one of the quainter relics of the castle’s history. She found other ways, more courteous ways, of summoning Maisie when she needed her, including mobile phone calls and texts. Annabel’s heirs, however, didn’t feel the same way. Maybe it was the novelty of the bell system, but it smacked of an upstairs-downstairs caste system to me. Maisie rolled her eyes at its jingle. “I do wish they’d find a nicer way to let me know they need tea. I also wish they would take their tea in the dining room like it’s been done for years around here. But with Annabel gone, I suppose lots of things are going to change,” she said with a sigh.
“I’m sorry, Maisie. Do you want me to say something? Who’s calling you, anyway?”
“All of them. Andreas never did that. Sian has only started since Annabel died. But please don’t say anything. I don’t want you to get in trouble for stirring up the help,” she said with a grimace.
