Fifteen Sixteen Maids In The Kitchen: A Grasshopper Lawns whodunit

by EJ Lamprey

  ‘Loving the names on the floor plan.’ Kirsty looked up with a mischievous grin. ‘Is Kkkitty Catt the lush one with the Dolly Parton cleavage, or the one who looks like a vampire?’

  ‘The lavish one. She pulls men aside and whispers in a baby doll voice while they stare down her front like rabbits faced with a python. She set her sights on Donald first off, realized he wasn’t interested, then quizzed him very professionally about Grant, Stuart and Aubrey, who they were, how well their books sold . . . she’s all business, that one. The vampire is Zoe Black, she’s a bit awful. The rest seem okay.’

  Kirsty took her own and Drew’s plates off to the scullery to scrape them and stack them in the dishwasher.

  ‘Thanks so much for this, my stomach thought my throat had been cut. Okay, the tour.’

  Edge laughed and took her arm as they went through the kitchen door. ‘It really is the most awful place. I hope your nerves are in good shape. Most of the social stuff will be in the main hall, because it’s the warmest place in the house. This is the dining room, although I think we’ll end up eating in the kitchen as often as not. Spot the special effect.’ She stayed in the doorway as they went in, glancing down towards the main hall as Kkkitty Catt, swaying on her ridiculous heels, went into the library without glancing towards her.

  She said idly to the other two, ‘The library would usually be the best room to use for socializing, but it is absolutely perishing, all the time. Part of the booby-trap there involves icy draughts through vents and two of them are rusted open, so we’ve made it the smoking room instead. The books are way too damp to be accidentally set on fire.’

  ‘Aha!’ Drew pointed triumphantly at the portrait over the fire. ‘The dog looked away!’

  ‘No!’ Kirsty stared up eagerly. ‘The spaniel?’

  ‘Yes, it— Edge, did the table move?’

  Edge giggled, and took her attention off the other doors to glance into the dining room. ‘I never noticed the dog, but yes, the table moves furtively when you turn your back on it. Donald keeps saying William’s uncle was a genius. That’s all we’ve found so far in this room.’

  She waited patiently in the doorway while the other two searched carefully until they finally decided there were no other effects. There was no sign of Kkkitty Catt and she was conscious of slight tension as she opened the door to the drawing room. It was unlike her to take an irrational dislike to people but her first reaction to the other woman had, if anything, strengthened over their brief acquaintance. Making polite in the library would be inevitable, if the wretched woman didn’t hurry up and head back to the hall.

  ‘This is the drawing room, where Lorna Granger had her accident. Oh hi, Stuart!’

  The land agent looked a little guilty about hiding in the drawing room away from the party, but shook hands warmly with Kirsty and Drew.

  ‘Still bucketing down outside,’ he remarked, ‘I think you’re going to have fun shifting your car. What happens about work if you can’t make it?’

  Drew rolled his eyes. ‘We have to make it, everyone kens we’re off having a jolly in a haunted house. Phoning in with excuses won’t go down at all well.’

  Stuart conventionally, rather than enthusiastically, offered his elderly Land Rover to help in the car’s extraction if needed, and took himself off to the kitchen in search of something to drink. Kirsty turned on the spot. The drawing room, now that the dust covers had been removed, looked mellow and gracious thanks to Donald’s clever lighting distracting the eye from the damp splotches on the wall. Ten days of industrial hot air driers, and three flower arrangements chosen as much for pungency as colour, had completely removed the unpleasant smells of mould and imprisonment. Kirsty’s eyes went unerringly to the French door at the end of the row.

  ‘That one, with the key in it? But you haven’t marked it as a trap, that’s a bit dangerous.’

  Edge shrugged. ‘Everyone knows the house is riddled with traps, and what to expect. We have warned them that something as simple as turning a key could plunge them into disaster, but William insisted they be allowed to find things on their own. We’ve promised we’ll be checking on everyone all the time, and that’s also why we all have the panic buttons. You haven’t put yours on yet.’

  She touched her own automatically, the odd feeling of tension getting more marked. Stuart was emerging from the kitchen with a glass of wine, and smiled politely as he passed her and went back towards the buzz of conversation from the hall. Kkkitty Catt still hadn’t emerged from the library, so a meeting was inevitable.

  Kirsty pulled the panic button over her head and lifted her vibrant red hair clear. ‘This will be fun, everyone rushing round panicking every time someone presses it by accident.’

  ‘You can’t set it off accidentally.’ Edge said patiently. ‘It was all covered in the briefing, and everyone has a card of instructions and warnings in their room to remind them. You have to press it once, count to three, then press it again to activate it. Are you going to try the slide?’

  Kirsty laughed out loud and shook her head vehemently as she left the drawing room, Drew behind her, pulling the door shut behind them. Edge pushed the library door open. ‘This used to be the nicest room in the— oh!’

  Both women stopped dead in the doorway and Drew bumped into them, apologized automatically, and peered over their shoulders with interest.

  ‘A body in the library, I love it. Clichéd, sure, but a classic.’

  PART THREE

  The body in the library

  ‘No bodies expected.’ Edge was suddenly breathless. ‘Oh hell.’ She pressed her panic button even as Kirsty hurried forward to Kkkitty Catt, who was sprawled on the Chesterfield, her arms outflung and an astonished look on her face. One side of her extravagant hairstyle was indented, bright blood stark against her black hair and the red-brown leather of the Chesterfield. An Art Deco bronze of a slender dancer lay on the floor at her feet, more blood on its base.

  Kirsty gingerly touched two fingers to the woman’s neck, and turned sharply as a rush of footsteps approached. ‘No-one can come in!’ she ordered urgently. ‘Call 999. She’s dead, but still warm.’

  There was jostling in the doorway as everyone tried to look past Kirsty, who rose to her feet and shielded the body as best she could. Martha Smith squirmed through to push past Edge and took a deep breath of pure satisfaction.

  ‘Oh, very good, Mr MacDonald! I knew she was a plant the moment I saw her. Although,’ she added fairly, ‘Mr Jellicoe’s reaction was a bit of a giveaway.’ She peered back into the crowd. ‘You knew she was an actress, didn’t you?’

  Edge turned her head, surprised, and Aubrey looked slightly furtive. ‘I knew she wasn’t Kkkitty Catt, yes. I didn’t realize she was an actress. That really is very convincing.’

  William, taller than the rest, was staring at the body over the heads of the others, his mobile phone to his ear.

  ‘I can't get a signal. The piggyback signal must have been knocked out by the storm. Kirsty, the only landline is that phone over on the desk, you’ll have to make the call.’

  Kirsty nodded and reached across to lift the phone, then looked puzzled. ‘It’s dead. You’re sure it was working?’

  He nodded, and Martha Smith said slightly impatiently, ‘I’m sorry I let the cat out of the bag. But you don’t need to keep up the pretence any longer.’

  William stared at Kirsty, who gave the faintest of nods. He shrugged his big shoulders. ‘Okay. Everyone back to the hall. But first, remember the drill, people – the alarm went off, so look for the people in the rooms either side of yours and shout out if you can’t see them. Now! Anyone missing?’

  ‘Well, I’m here. But I was in the end room, with Kkkitty Catt in the next room. Who’ll look out for me now if I vanish?’ Diane Bagger sounded slightly plaintive as the atmosphere abruptly lightened and William smiled down at her.

  ‘Aubrey is the far end of the writers, you were looking for each other anyway, remember?’ She looked pained and
he shrugged slightly. ‘Zoe, then. Now that Kkkitty Catt has, er, gone, Zoe is in the next occupied room.’

  ‘Zoe Black. Of course.’ Diane nodded coolly at Zoe. ‘Well, she’s here.’

  Zoe lifted her pencil-thin brows, caught Edge’s eye and pursed her gleaming dark lips to let out a mock ‘phew’. Edge forced a smile. She hadn’t taken to the Gothic horror writer either. At least she wasn’t, for the first time since her arrival, looking bored.

  ‘That really was rather good,’ she drawled and turned languidly back in the direction of the hall. ‘Are there going to be other stunts? Not what I expected.’ She didn’t wait for an answer but swayed away, lifting her glass exaggeratedly clear as Grant pushed forward in turn to peer into the library.

  ‘Oi. Zoe!’ William bellowed after her and she turned gracefully, eyebrows lifting again. ‘Roll call. Are your two safe?’

  ‘Of course they are. Diane’s right there in front of you, and Martha Smith spoiled the stunt, remember? All’s well. I need a cigarette, darling. Since the library is presumably out of bounds, I’ll have to go out under the portico again. Really not my style.’

  William muttered a rude comment under his breath in which Edge caught the word ‘style’ and bent his head as Grant confirmed eagerly that Martha and Aubrey were both there. He looked again at Kirsty, who gave a tiny jerk of her head towards the hall, and obediently led the others back in that direction, Donald bringing up the rear, his eyes watchful.

  Kirsty waited until only Edge and Drew were left, thumbing at her mobile phone with her brows drawn together. ‘I haven’t got a signal either. Damn. Wish I had my Airwave! I thought you had organized a fancy Wi-Fi set-up, Edge?’

  ‘We did, and it cost a bomb because of the booster needed. If William’s right and the storm has cut us off, what do we do now?’

  ‘We’ll have to shift the bloody car after all, if the whole glen is a dead-spot. William’s got his hands full: could you, Drew, find out who owns that little Jeep? It might be narrow enough to get past the car, and if they’ll take you to a neighbour you can phone from there, or as soon as you have a signal on your phone. I’ll have to stay and stop people leaving. If I can, of course.’ She looked worried. ‘At least if they do think it’s a stunt, they won’t be panicking and rushing away in every direction. That was a lucky break, and William was really quick picking up on it.’

  ‘Zoe owns the Jeep,’ Edge told Drew and took a shaky breath as he nodded and hurried away. ‘I feel sick. I joked when I first saw this room that Colonel Mustard would use a blunt instrument in the library. I even looked at that hideous bronze statuette lying on the floor, which I’m assuming is the culprit.’

  ‘I think so. It’ll have been wiped, I dare say, so we may struggle to get prints off it. Pity you didn't guess who the good Colonel would be. What was all that about her being a phony?’

  ‘I have no idea. She said she was Kkkitty Catt! Obviously that wasn’t a real name, but she contacted me via Facebook. Her real name is Jeanette something. I have it written down. Her photo on the Kkkitty Catt website looks like a much younger version but actually isn’t, your great-aunt spotted that immediately, but there’s no law against using a model photo. She’s not exactly the porn star her fans would expect.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know.’ Kirsty looked drily down at the dead woman’s elaborate makeup and excessive cleavage. ‘But maybe Aubrey can help us there, if he knew her.’

  Drew reappeared at Edge’s shoulder. His merry face didn’t lend itself to worried expressions, but he did look perplexed. ‘I tell you what, that Zoe Black is something else. She said no, the Jeep leaks in the rain and what could possibly be so urgent, anyway? I came up with a quick fib about having promised to phone my mum before she went to bed to let her know we had arrived safely, but she sneered and said life was full of little disappointments and I should go find someone who cared. I couldn’t think of anything more convincing to say without blowing the gaffe and I wasn’t sure if you were ready to do that. I did have a quick look outside and it’s still bucketing. I frankly don’t fancy our chances of hauling your car clear until it stops, even with both William and Stuart’s cars, and they’re both too big to squeeze past. Want me to walk?’

  Kirsty bit at her thumb nail and looked at the windows, where the rain was still thrumming against the glass.

  Donald materialized in his usual soundless way and reached past Edge to offer Kirsty a folded dust sheet. ‘I thought you might want to cover her up, and I’ve brought William’s keys so we can seal the library off until your colleagues get here.’

  ‘That’s not looking good.’ Edge told him what Zoe’s reaction to Drew’s request had been, while Kirsty gratefully took the sheet and shook it out to cover the Chesterfield and its grisly occupant. ‘Drew was just offering to walk. Trouble is, if the phones are out because of the storm, he could find himself walking all night. It’s all farmland around here. I can’t remember seeing anything within miles of the glen.’

  ‘No, there isn’t.’ Donald frowned in memory. ‘That’s why I insisted on switching cars with William when I was coming through on my own, because there was no chance of getting help if my car did get stuck in the tunnel. All of ten miles to the next place anywhere near the road.’

  ‘Burns Hall? We saw it on our way through tonight. No lights on, we even joked about the storm knocking out electricity in the area.’ Kirsty upturned the waste-paper basket over the statuette and tugged a heavy book from the shelves to set on top. ‘So now what?’

  Donald shrugged. ‘Right now people are racking their memories and enjoying themselves very much. They think it’s a stunt, especially with the tunnel being blocked off. You’ll not get the car shifted until dawn, even if it stopped raining right now it’s too dark. We’re all here for the night. I’d as soon ken who the murderer is before I settled down into a cosy sleep under the same roof.’

  ‘A mock murder investigated by a mock poliswoman in a mock interrogation, which turned out to be real on every count? Even if we worked out who had done it, my head would be handed to me on a plate when it got to court!’

  Donald remained stubborn. ‘Kirsty, you’re not thinking. There’s a body, they’ve all seen it. We can't lock the library and pretend nowt happened. Especially if Drew suddenly gets taken with the urge to go for a walk in the rain! They’ll get suspicious, and a dozen strangers, one of them homicidal, eyeing each other suspiciously? Well, that’s a recipe for disaster. We almost have to play to guest expectations, keep going with what they think is a game. William and I can do the questioning, keep it relaxed. We’d need to involve you in some way, I think. You are down on the room plan as the polis expert.’

  Kirsty looked at him helplessly, then lifted her shoulders. ‘I would like to ask Aubrey about Kkkitty Catt. Let’s start with him. It could turn out to be that simple. These things often are. No playacting, though, I just ask.’

  ‘Not on your own!’ Edge said instantly and firmly. ‘Kirsty, darling, play the game a little. Don’t declare yourself, and have William or Donald with you, at the very least.’

  Kirsty thought about it, and nodded. ‘William, then. He’s the host and if I’m the on-the-spot polis expert, it won’t look odd that we’re asking.’

  ***

  ‘I didn’t know her, or that she was an actress.’ Aubrey looked shifty. ‘I do know who Kkkitty Catt is, though, so I knew she was a fake.’

  Kirsty waited patiently, but Aubrey didn’t volunteer any more information, although he was obviously uncomfortable. Finally she accepted he wouldn’t be pushed into speech by silence. ‘And you can’t tell us any more than that?’

  He shook his head, looking harassed. She looked at him steadily, then nodded. ‘Okay.’

  ‘That was a dummy, right? It looked incredibly real.’

  She didn’t respond and he shrugged and left with a last uncertain glance. As soon as the drawing room door shut behind him Kirsty turned helplessly to William, who had stayed within elaborately casua
l distance.

  ‘Okay, that was a complete waste of time. I can’t insist without letting out that I really am with the polis. But if I admit that, they’ll all ken it was a real murder, and we’re all trapped here overnight. Not good.’

  William sat heavily and leaned back in his chair, watching her through half-closed eyes. ‘It’s nine pm. It’s still pouring with rain, we have no phones, and our cars are effectively useless. We have a dead body on our hands, and someone in this house killed her. I agree with Donald: he and I do an investigation, you sit in taking notes and tip us off if we’re heading in a controversial direction. Drew, Edge and Vivian will keep chat going outside, and we compare notes later. That takes you off the hot-spot, and if we do solve it, you can declare yourself and arrest him. Or her. Better?’

  Kirsty swithered, and he sighed, then raised his voice to bellow for Donald, who joined them almost instantly.

  ‘What’s going on out there?’ William demanded and Donald shrugged.

  ‘They’re getting a little impatient. We’ve got them all talking about what they remember about where everyone was, but that won’t hold them much longer.’

  William looked back at Kirsty. ‘No-one is going anywhere, and if they do we’ve got their details, we have names, addresses, even their bank details. They’re all public figures who have worked hard to establish public personas. The house is a regular fortress – once we lock the outside doors, the only exit is through the French door in this room, which we know, but they don’t, is a booby trap, or through the bathroom oubliette and Donald’s hidden that switch. No-one is going anywhere, put it that way.’

  ‘I do wish you’d stop treating it as a game.’ Kirsty was rattled enough to be testy. ‘Donald says everyone’s chatting happily, and that sounds terrifying to me. No-one who lost his or her temper and accidentally killed someone should laughing ten minutes later. That means either this was premeditated and the phone and Wi-Fi were deliberately sabotaged, in which case no mock interrogation is going to rattle them for a second, or we have a sociopath running on nerve. If we’ve got a nutter on our hands, you could be cornering a dangerous rat and putting us at real risk.’