Murder under a blue moon, p.3
Murder Under a Blue Moon, page 3
Mr. Deatherage didn’t respond at first, thinking of how to reply. Who was he to judge when his retainer came from the Moon fortune made by war investments? “Perhaps you may do better with the family’s wealth, Miss Moon.”
Mona admired the horses grazing in beautiful green fields guarded by gleaming white fences. “I intend to,” she murmured. “I certainly intend to.”
4
The Daimler turned left and stopped before a twelve-foot-high wrought iron gate. Two huge stone columns supported statues of lions attacking frightened gazelles.
“Not very welcoming are they?” Mona commented on the statues.
“I don’t think they’re meant to be,” Mr. Deatherage replied.
“Family mascots, huh?”
Mr. Deatherage chuckled. “The Moon family is never subtle with its imagery. You know up front you’re dealing with predators. Oh, maybe I shouldn’t have said that.”
“Like Daniel to the lion’s den, I see.”
“Everyone from the older generation is dead, and Miss Melanie, well, she’s more flighty than mean. I’m sure we can settle this lawsuit matter as soon as she is reassured you won’t be wrenching her annual stipend and privileges away from her. She’s reacting out of fear. It was a shock when Melanie discovered she wasn’t the main heir. We all thought Miles, her son, would eventually be master of Mooncrest Farm. The lawsuit is just a knee jerk reaction.”
“I hope you’re right.”
Jamison honked the horn and a man ran out from a stone guardhouse and opened the gate. As the car passed, the man tipped his hat.
Mona turned around in her seat and watched him close the heavy gates.
“That’s Burl,” Mr. Deatherage said. “His grandfather was born a slave on this estate.”
Mona said, “The roots of the employees go back deep.”
“Very. Some are descendants of slaves who came with the original white pioneers. They take their duties seriously and can be trusted, even though they consider the Moons to be mere interlopers. Owners of the estate come and go, but these people stay. They are deeply invested in the land.”
Mona squared back her shoulders, glancing at Mr. Deatherage. As her employee, could he be trusted? Mona would find out soon enough, and if her extended family had any delusions she was a namby-pamby, they would soon find out differently as well. She had worked in some of the most inhospitable places in the world and had emerged unscathed with both her virtue and pay intact, but she would need someone who had her back in this instance. Was that someone Mr. Deatherage?
She pushed those thoughts from her mind as the car continued up a tree-lined drive and finally rounded a curve, where a large lake shimmered in the midday sun. A cheerful geyser sprouted happily into the air before a stone mansion.
Mona couldn’t help but gasp.
Her mother had shown her pictures of Moon Manor, but the photographs did not do justice to the mansion. It could be compared to English manors such as Benham Park or Eaton Hall, at both of which Mona had been a weekend guest.
Moon Manor was a square mansion built in the Georgian style. It was three stories high with a stone balustrade, traversing the roofline. Four broad marble steps led up to a covered portico supported by four stone Corinthian columns. Another pair of imposing marble lions guarded the front door.
“Impressive isn’t it,” Mr. Deatherage said.
“I own this?”
“Lock, stock, and barrel. The deed of the house and the land has already been recorded in your name. It’s yours.”
Jamison followed the drive to the front portico and eased to a stop in front of a line of people in uniforms waiting. He slid open the partition, saying, “Miss Moon, you’re home.”
“Thank you, Jamison.”
“Anytime you need me, just call the kitchen. That’s where I’ll be if not in the garage. I’ll be happy to take you anywhere. I can drive anything. You just pick the car, and I’ll drive it for you.”
“We have more than one car?”
“Yes’am. Lots of them.”
Mona took a deep breath. This new life was going to take some getting used to, but she mustn’t show she was nervous.
Jamison jumped out and opened her door.
Mona stepped out and was greeted by a woman wearing a heavily starched, blue striped dress and a pince-nez. A fob watch was pinned to her dress and her belt sagged under the weight of a brass key ring, which held over a dozen keys of various sizes. The woman’s graying auburn hair was pulled so tightly into a bun the skin on her face seemed stretched. Mona took her to be the housekeeper and took an instant dislike to the woman’s severe appearance.
She reminded Mona of a riverboat captain who had once guided her down the Mississippi, while spewing talk about his piety during dinner, and then tried to accost her after dessert. She was glad there had been a doctor onboard. The captain needed one after she finished with him. This woman had the same pinched look as the captain. It turned Mona’s stomach.
Mr. Deatherage came around behind Mona and warned, “Mrs. Haggin is the housekeeper. She’s your Aunt Melanie’s creature.”
“Welcome to Moon Manor, Miss Moon,” Mrs. Haggin said in a voice as heavily starched as her uniform.
“Thank you.”
“May I introduce the staff?”
“By all means.”
“This is Thomas, the butler, and his staff Samuel and Isaac.”
Thomas stepped forward and said, “We hope to make your stay with us comfortable.”
Your stay with us? Mona thought. “I’m sure you and your staff will exceed my expectation.”
If Thomas noticed the bite in Mona’s remark, he didn’t show it. He stepped back into line.
“This is Monsieur Bisaillon. He is the cook.”
Monsieur Bisaillon crisply bowed his head. “Enchanté, Mademoiselle. You must tell me if you have any special requests concerning the menus.”
“I look forward to your expert guidance in such matters, Monsieur Bisaillon. I’m entirely in your capable hands.”
The cook bowed again, feeling relieved that his position as head chef was secure. “May I introduce you to Obadiah and Jedediah, my assistants.”
“Nice to meet you both. Are you two brothers?”
Obadiah spoke, “Yes, Miss Moon. Twins.”
“Your parents must have loved the Bible. Obadiah is the shortest book in the Bible, is it not? Refers to a prophet during the Assyrian Period.”
“Yes, Miss,” Obadiah answered.
“If I remember my Biblical Hebrew, it means ‘one who serves God.’”
“It surely does.”
“And Jedediah. That was the second blessing name given to Solomon by the prophet Nathan. Your name means ‘friend of God.’”
Jedediah asked, “You a Bible reader, Miss Moon?”
“I keep my hand in.”
Obadiah said, “No need to be formal with us, Miss. Folks call us Obbie and Jed.”
“I’ll try to remember.”
Mrs. Haggin continued down the line. “This is Violet, your personal maid.”
Mona was startled learning she was to have her own maid, but said nothing and maintained her poker face.
Violet curtsied and spoke, “Nice to meet you, Miss. I hope I will be able to meet your standards.”
“I’m sure you will, Violet.”
“This is Dora, the downstairs senior maid.”
Dora nodded her head. “Miss.”
“Dora, nice to meet you.”
“This is Mabelle, the upstairs maid.”
“Mabelle. A good hello.”
“Miss.” Mabelle gave a quick curtsy.
“This is Mr. Gallo, our gardener.”
Mr. Gallo doffed his hat and spoke with a strong Italian accent. “I knew your grandpapa, Miss.” Seeing the strong disapproving look on Mrs. Haggin’s face, he looked away.
“I was hoping to meet someone who knew my mother’s father. You must show me the gardens. My mother told me the original design of the garden was his,” Mona said, referring to her maternal grandfather.
Mr. Gallo smiled brightly. “I helped plant many trees here including the great black oak trees. They are native to Kentucky.”
“They line the driveway, do they not? I noticed the reddish leaves.”
Mr. Gallo’s face beamed as he spoke. “Your grandpapa and I placed those beauties in the ground some forty years ago.”
“I look forward to taking a tour of the farm with you, Mr. Gallo.”
“Yes, Miss Moon. Anytime. Anytime.”
Moving down the line, Mrs. Haggin continued the introductions. “This is Archer. He was your uncle’s valet.”
“What is your position now, Mr. Archer?”
“It’s simply Archer when the Moon family addresses me, Miss,” the valet said, correcting Mona. “I now tend to young Miles.”
Mona did not like Archer correcting her in front of the staff, but said nothing, turning to Mr. Deatherage.
“So you’ll be leaving Moon Manor then, Archer?” Mr. Deatherage asked.
“No, sir, not since Mr. Miles has taken up residence in Moon Manor.”
Shock must have shown on Mr. Deatherage’s face, as the rest of the staff looked down at their feet. Only Archer and Mrs. Haggin showed no sign of shame or embarrassment.
“Steady on, man,” Mona murmured to Mr. Deatherage. She casually asked, “Has anyone else taken up residence in Moon Manor, Mrs. Haggin?”
“Your Aunt Melanie and your cousins, young Miles and Miss Meredith,” she replied coldly.
Mona’s eyebrows rose a bit. “Please introduce me to the rest of the staff.” Mona numbly followed Mrs. Haggin, barely listening to her prattle as Mona considered the implications of her relatives taking advantage of her uncle’s demise to move into Moon Manor. As Mona understood it, her aunt had a large house of her own on the estate.
The first volley of resistance had been fired. Her aunt and cousins obviously assumed Mona was a pushover and would take flight at the first sign of aggression. They had seriously erred if they thought they could chase Mona away. They weren’t dealing with a lamb, but with a lioness.
It was time for Mona to teach them that she could kill gazelles as well.
5
Mona climbed past the imposing lion statues guarding the broad marble steps of the portico.
Mr. Deatherage said, “Allow me, Miss Moon,” as he opened the massive front door. “Welcome to Moon Manor. May your new home bring joy.”
The mistress of Moon Manor swept around him into a mahogany paneled foyer with a grand staircase on the right leading to the second floor balcony. Mona stopped and took in her surroundings, taking an immediate dislike to the room. I hope the rest of the house isn’t such a gloomy gus, she thought.
Mrs. Haggin followed Mr. Deatherage into the foyer. “The family is waiting for you in the drawing room, Miss.”
“Whom would that be, Mrs. Haggin?” Mona asked, shedding her new driving gloves.
“Your Aunt Melanie and your cousins.”
“Please convey my apologies to them. The journey here has been very taxing. I am tired and wish to retire. We can meet at dinner tonight. Would you escort me to my room please?”
Mrs. Haggin looked quite vexed. “But Miss Moon!”
“I wish to be escorted to my room please. NOW!”
“Very well, then. I’ll have one of the boys bring in your trunks.”
Mona turned to Mr. Deatherage so Mrs. Haggin couldn’t see her face. “Shall I be expecting you and Willie at dinner tonight?” She mouthed, please come.
“We would be delighted,” Mr. Deatherage answered, secretly miffed he wouldn’t be spending his first evening at home, but Mona Moon was his most important client.
When Mrs. Haggin started up the staircase, Mr. Deatherage sidled up to Mona and whispered, “Well played, Miss Moon. Make them dance to your tune.” He was out the door in a flash, jauntily donning his gray Homburg and whistling a tune down the portico steps.
Jamison waited for him beside the Daimler.
“Home, Jamison,” Mr. Deatherage said. Saluting Moon Manor, Mr. Deatherage mumbled, “A lioness has returned home.”
“What’s that, sir?”
“The lion of Moon Manor has returned home, Jamison. Miss Moon has inherited her father’s disposition.”
Jamison murmured, “She’s gonna need it. With that bunch, Miss Moon’s sure gonna need it.”
“Amen to that, Jamison. Amen to that.”
6
The housekeeper showed Mona to a bedroom down the end of a dark hallway.
Mona strode in and stood quietly. It had been recently cleaned, and the scent of freshly washed linens wafted about the room, but it still looked dingy. There were no vases filled with flowers or even a fruit basket welcoming her. The wallpaper looked like it hadn’t been changed since the turn of the century.
Mrs. Haggin opened a door. “This room is en suite. You have both shower and tub. No closet but the room does have an ample wardrobe.”
Mona looked out the small window. The view was of several buildings in need of repair and paint. “Surely, this is not the master suite.”
Mrs. Haggin looked surprised. “Well, no Miss. Your aunt has moved into the master suite. She thought this room would be suitable for you. It’s quite cozy, and is one of the quietest rooms in the manor.”
Mona’s eyes flashed as she swirled around to confront Mrs. Haggin. Her face must have been fierce, as Mrs. Haggin seemed startled.
“Be advised, Mrs. Haggin. I don’t do cozy. Show me the master suite, please.”
“Shall I send for your Aunt Melanie?”
“That won’t be necessary.”
“I must notify her, Miss. We can’t intrude. It would be an invasion of Miss Melanie’s privacy.”
“Show me the master bedroom immediately, or you’ll find yourself in search of employment elsewhere without references.”
The housekeeper jerked her hand up over her heart. “Goodness. It’s not my place to correct.”
Mona cut in. “Then don’t.”
“Very well, but I must protest.”
“Noted. After you.”
Mona was led down the hall to the west wing of the house. They passed the wide staircase and a small closet, which housed an elevator. The housekeeper opened the first door on the right and held it open for Mona.
Mona was staggered by what she saw. The room was bright and airy with fresh flower arrangements adorning newly waxed mahogany tables with marble tops. A French Deco mirror, reaching to the ceiling, accented a marble fireplace ablaze with an inviting, crackling fire.
On the outside wall were massive windows and glass French doors, which led to a balcony spanning the length of the master bedroom allowing a great deal of light. Mona peered down into the gardens and observed Mr. Gallo with several helpers pruning topiary of horses, dogs, rabbits, and odd geometrical shapes. Beyond the garden were pastures with horses gamboling on the lush carpet of the Bluegrass, and in the distance were shiny rooftops of the barns and stables.
A door was slightly open. Mona pulled on the door handle only to discover the master bath. She stepped inside the spacious room whose walls and floor were made from green and white marble. The toilet seat was carved from a dark green marble, as was the bathtub. All fixtures were shiny with light reflecting the color of gold.
“Are these fixtures solid gold?”
“No, Miss. They are brass plated in gold. The architect didn’t feel solid gold would hold up.”
Mona nodded and continued exploring. The shower was encased in glass. Beside the toilet was a bidet. “Very European,” Mona murmured, opening another door in the bathroom leading to a dressing room with mirrored closets lining two walls.
Following another door, Mona stepped into a small bedroom with a door leading to the main hallway. Must be the maid’s room, she thought.
Coming back through the rooms, she paused when she saw Mrs. Haggin hugging the doorway. “The bath is larger than the room you showed me, Mrs. Haggin.”
“I’m sorry the choice of your bedroom displeases you, Miss Moon.”
“It does, indeed, which is why you are going to have Aunt Melanie’s things packed up immediately and have my trunks brought up here.”
“That seems an unreasonable request.”
“I want my trunks carefully unpacked, and Aunt Melanie’s possessions out of here within one half hour. Tell Violet to come up here immediately, and after you see to this, tell the family I will receive them at cocktails. What time is dinner?”
Pursing her lips, Mrs. Haggin replied, “Eight, Miss.”
“Very well. I will meet them at seven thirty.”
“Where shall I put Miss Melanie’s things, Miss?”
“Doesn’t she have her own house on the estate?”
“Yes.”
“Tell Jamison to take her things back to her house,” Mona said, giving Mrs. Haggin a severe look. “That goes for my cousins as well.”
“Very well, Miss.”
“Oh, one more thing, Mrs. Haggin. How many keys for this room?”
“Two Miss. I have one, and Miss Melanie has the other.”
Mona held out her hand. “May I have the key please?”
“What? I need the key for the staff.”
“Please give me your key and get the other key from my aunt. Give it to Violet. She’s to have it when she comes up. After my trunks arrive, the only person allowed in this room is Violet. Understand?”
“Yes.”
“You have your instructions, Mrs. Haggin.”
“Yes, Miss.”
Mona saw a glint of revulsion in Mrs. Haggin’s eyes. Perhaps she was making a mistake. Didn’t Mr. Deatherage warn her to make changes slowly? However, she knew enough of the world to know when a battle was ensuing.
Aunt Melanie’s appropriation of the master suite was the first volley in what promised to be an all out war. If Mona didn’t dig in now, she would be bullied by her relatives. She had to demonstrate that she was the head of the family now, and they had to yield to her dictates—not the other way around.
