A margin for murder, p.21
A Margin for Murder, page 21
“No, it’s fine really.” Addie backed away and thudded into a tall cupboard. A door above her flew open, and a sack of rice slipped out, spilling over her and the floor.
“Now, see what you’ve done,” Mrs. Bannerman snapped. “Cook will never tolerate this, ever. I expect this to be cleaned up before she comes down to prepare breakfast, and don’t think that Master Radcliff won’t be informed about you sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.” Mrs. Bannerman spun on her heel and disappeared.
“Oh dear, Pippi. It looks like we have a mess to clean up, don’t we? Too bad dogs can’t eat raw rice. It would make this so much easier.” She laughed as she searched out a broom and dustpan. Her mind worked overtime trying to gauge the housekeeper’s reaction to the empty box of chocolates.
After she had cleaned up the spilled bag of rice and surveyed the floor for any remaining grains, she put the broom and dustpan back into the cupboard where she’d found them. She flipped off the overhead light in the pantry and started through the kitchen when Tony came through the doorway, his hair looking worse than hers did.
“Addie,” he said, wiping sleep from his eyes, “what’s this I hear about you ransacking the kitchen and stealing from me?”
“What?” She glanced at Mrs. Bannerman standing behind him. A smug little smile touched the corners of her lips. “I was feeding Pippi her breakfast and bumped a cupboard. A bag of rice spilled out and”—she shot the housekeeper a dagger-filled glare—“that was the extent of my ransacking.”
“Is this true?”
“Yes, of course, and as far as stealing, I’m not sure what it is I was supposed to have taken other than this.” She held out the empty red-foiled box. “It was in the recycling, but I know it was meant for the garbage bin, and that’s exactly where I intend to take it when Pippi and I go for a walk.”
He turned toward Mrs. Bannerman. “Thank you, that will be all.”
She harrumphed and swiftly turned, vanishing out into the hallway.
“I don’t know about you, but I need a coffee. Want one?” he asked, reaching for the carafe and filling it with water without waiting for Addie to answer.
“Yes, please, and then you can tell me about the chocolates.”
“What chocolates?” He appeared to still be trying to wake up and not comprehending what she was saying.
“These chocolates.” She shook the box in her hand. “The ones your housekeeper seemed to think that I was stealing, but as you can see, it’s empty.”
“Oh, those.”
“Yes, these. I had one at the dinner on Friday, and I know they were from this chocolate shop in Greyborne Harbor. Did you take them to the potluck?”
“Why, yes, yes I did, but don’t tell anyone.”
Addie’s hand tightened around the box. “Why wouldn’t you want me to tell anyone?”
He ran his hand through his hair. “Because I don’t want them to know I cheated and didn’t take a homemade dish. That Gretchen woman thinks I took a flan and was most appreciative. It wouldn’t bode well now if she found out I took credit for someone else’s dish, would it?”
“Probably not, but how in the world did that happen?”
“I was heading upstairs, when an elderly woman with a cane stopped and asked if I was going to the potluck. When I told her yes, she asked if I could drop off her contribution as she didn’t think she could manage the stairs carrying it. I told her about the service elevator in the back corner of the library. She thanked me, but said that going down to the lower level to get to it with the cane and juggling the dish was just as difficult for her.”
“When you dropped it off in the kitchen, you never thought to tell anyone that it wasn’t your dish?”
“No, but in truth, I never said it was mine. I just let Gretchen assume and never corrected her. I felt embarrassed when I saw the food everyone else brought and all I had was two dishes of chocolates.”
“I see.” Addie glanced down at Pippi waiting patiently at her feet for her morning walk. She backed away from Tony, not sure what to believe anymore. “Well, I’ll have to pass on that coffee. My friend here is reminding me she hasn’t relieved herself yet, so I’d better get her outside.”
“Okay, I’ll leave the pot on the warmer and you can have a cup when you’re done.”
“Thanks.” Addie bolted out of the kitchen, flew upstairs, threw on some clothes, and made a dash outside. When she smelled the scent of the crisp briny morning air, she could finally clear her head and think. Was Tony the killer? Had she been wrong and he did have a motive for wanting Luella dead, revenge perhaps? Then she recalled Mrs. Bannerman’s reaction to seeing Addie with the box. Or was the tampering done by someone else, someone who knew about the poison plants in the conservatory and poor Tony was only her stooge in the whole thing?
Regardless, she had to tell Marc what she’d learned. Her thumbs flew across the keypad, but when she went to press Send, she hesitated. Tony was one of her dearest and oldest friends. Really? What was she thinking? Fingers crossed Marc would read between the lines and see that she was simply reporting the facts. She reread what she had written until she was certain that she had stressed what she knew about Mrs. Bannerman and her odd reaction to Addie having the box and that Tony didn’t seem at all fazed about it, which in her mind meant he wasn’t the guilty party here.
Then that familiar crawling sensation snaked up her neck and inched across her scalp. She turned and glanced back at the house. The prickliness on her neck increased. Let Marc figure it out because if Tony was innocent—like her gut told her—then Mrs. Bannerman might not be. She pressed Send. Out of the corner of her eye she spotted movement in the window behind her, confirming what she suspected.
A wave of panic surged through her. Paige! She was still sleeping and vulnerable, and by defying Mrs. Bannerman Addie had just played one of her cards.
Addie tugged Pippi’s lead, darted through the door, and raced up the stairs, taking them two at a time. She flung open Paige’s bedroom door and froze. The bed was empty.
Chapter 25
To Addie’s relief there was the sound of running water. She knocked on the attached bathroom door. “Paige, it’s Addie. Is everything okay?”
Paige opened the door. Her eyes were half-closed with sleep, and her tousled blond curls fell over her face. She gave Addie a curious look. “I’ll be out in a sec,” she mumbled around the toothbrush in her mouth.
Addie closed the door, patted her hand over her chest to steady the arrhythmic fluttering in her heart. Pippi jumped up on the bed and nestled into a pillow, yawned, and closed her eyes. As much as she enjoyed having her breakfast at this early hour, she clearly wasn’t ready to start the day.
Addie smiled, sat on the bed, and ruffled Pippi’s head. “I know the feeling, girl. Get your nap in now because I suspect this is going to be a very long day.”
Paige came out of the bathroom and tossed the towel she’d been using on the dresser. “What’s got you in such a state this early in the morning?”
“I’m sorry I burst in on you, but”—Addie wrung her hands in her lap—“I did something, and I think Mrs. Bannerman knows it, and I was afraid she’d take it out on you.”
Paige sank onto the side of the bed. “Wanna know why I’m up at”—she glanced at the bedside clock—“six thirty in the freaking morning?”
Uneasiness sat at the base of Addie’s spine and began snaking upward.
“I was woken by a sound that I swear was the door squeaking. I thought maybe it was you, but when I looked, no one was there.”
Addie swallowed hard and proceeded to tell Paige about the empty box of chocolates she’d discovered in the kitchen and Mrs. Bannerman’s peculiar reaction.
“What did Marc say?”
“I haven’t heard back yet. I think he was still off this week, so he’s probably not up. But I think until he can give us some advice on what we should do next, we better stay clear of her. And, for goodness’ sake, don’t eat or drink anything she prepares or serves us.”
Paige looked at her thoughtfully. “And you’re sure it’s her, not Tony, who would have doctored the chocolates.”
“I don’t know what to think, but it makes more sense, and he didn’t care that I found the empty box of chocolates except to keep his secret about not taking a homemade dish to the potluck. Plus, you heard him the other night. He doesn’t know one poisonous plant from another and . . . and no! I just can’t believe he’s capable of murder. Her, on the other hand, she wasn’t pleased that I found it.” Addie shrugged. “It’s the only lead we have so far and it’s one that makes sense. I think she wanted revenge on Luella for scamming that poor old woman. Tony did say she was loyal to her. How much more loyal can she get than by killing the person who wronged someone she cared about?”
Paige slipped back into the bathroom to dress, and Addie tapped her phone screen, bringing up the photos she’d taken of the two blackboards they had used at Bree’s house. “Yes, Pippi, I think we’re on the right track now with Mrs. Bannerman.”
Pippi’s ears perked, and she stared at Addie.
“I know, girl, this has been a tough one. Too many suspects and too many motives, but like your Grandpa Greyborne used to say, ‘Motive always matters. Until you discover which motive leads to the actual murder, you can’t determine which of the suspects is the one, but when in doubt, always bank on love because it’s far more a motive than hate.’ ”
“What was that about banking on love?” asked Paige from the bathroom doorway.
“It’s something my dad used to say when he was working as a New York City police detective. If you’re not finding the answers to the questions, you’re not asking the right questions. So far, we’ve been focusing on who was mad enough with Luella to kill her, and came up with a list of people who might have wanted revenge, but we didn’t focus on someone who was protecting someone they loved dearly.” She stood up and shoved her phone in the back pocket of her capris. “Yes, killing Luella was a form of revenge, but it was for hurting the person they loved, so the revenge wasn’t for themselves. Does that make sense?”
“Yeah,” Paige said, retrieving her own phone out of her purse and scrolling down the screen. “But how do we disregard everyone else we have on our suspect list? There’s Wanda, whose husband had an affair with Luella. There’s Randy, who was put in—from what we were told—near financial ruin after being in business with her. And don’t forget about Patricia and Bea. They both lost their jobs because of Luella closing the library and selling the bookmobile out from under them. Then there’s that land developer and Mayor Bryant. That’s one clue we haven’t had much luck in turning up any information on.” Paige flopped down on the bed. Her hand mechanically stroked Pippi, who inched across the bed and nestled her head on Paige’s lap. “I think now we have to focus on the facts and not speculation. First, Luella was poisoned.”
“Yes,” said Addie.
“And the source was the chocolate-covered cherries at the potluck.”
Addie reluctantly nodded.
“And Tony admitted to you that he took them to the dinner, so . . .”
“I know,” said Addie. The sounds of vehicles on the driveway below drew her to the partially open window. “I can’t believe it.” She tugged her phone out and glanced at it. No messages. She glared at the commotion below her.
“What?” Paige rushed to her side.
“Marc, Simon, and Sheriff Turner, plus half a dozen other deputies just showed up.”
“I guess Marc was up when you sent the text.”
“Oh boy, we’ve got to get down there. I have to explain to Marc why I think it was Mrs. Bannerman and not Tony, even though he took the chocolates.”
“Are you sure you want to do that? Marc does know how to run an investigation and perform a suspect interview. He’ll figure it out, but if you tell him what to do, well . . . you know that won’t go over well.”
“It’s not him I’m worried about. It’s Sheriff Turner and his dogged determination to pin this on an outsider. Tony lives in England now. How much more of an outsider could he be?”
She scooped Pippi off the bed, cradled her to her chest, and dashed out the door into the gallery, but by the time she got there, she saw over the railing that Mrs. Bannerman had beat her to it and was leading the entourage down the hallway toward the library.
Turner said something to Simon and instructed two of the deputies to go with him, and they headed toward the conservatory. The other deputies disappeared, dispersing in groups, two in different directions. Two of them went up the stairs to the galley and continued on to the servants’ rooms on the third floor.
Addie was certain she was going to be sick. Simon knew his stuff and would find the monkshood in Maisie’s poison garden for sure, and that would seal Tony’s fate in Turner’s eyes. When she told Marc what she had discovered, she had no intentions of launching a police raid on Tony’s home—only for Marc to investigate and get to the bottom of the chocolate mystery.
Addie clutched Pippi and charged down the stairs, Paige close on her heels.
“What are you going to do?” Paige whispered hoarsely, fighting to catch her breath.
“I don’t know,” snapped Addie, “but I caused this, and now I have to fix it.” She came to a stuttering stop as Marc entered the library and turned to close the door. His eyes fixed on hers. He dropped his hand, leaving the door open a crack, and followed Turner into the adjoining study, leaving Addie and Paige in the hallway.
Addie glanced at Paige and then at the partially open door. Was this Marc’s way of saying you can’t be part of this, but help yourself to some information? Did he know what was going on or had this spiraled out of his control too? Both women leaned in closer to the door opening. Addie’s ears perked as she strained to hear what was going on inside.
“Are you Anthony Radcliff of Yorkshire, England?” Sheriff Turner’s voice boomed through the door crack.
“Yes, may I help you, Sheriff?”
“It’s our understanding that you took the chocolates to the potluck.”
“Yes, is that against some archaic law you have here in the colonies?”
Addie could hear the smirk in Tony’s voice.
“Just answer the questions, Mr. Radcliff,” Turner snapped.
“Yes, I took some chocolates that I had at the house.”
“Where did you get them?”
“I don’t know.”
“You took a box of chocolates to a community dinner, but you have no idea where you bought them?”
“That’s correct.”
“What, they just magically appeared?”
“In a way, yes, they did.”
“Are you messing with me, sir?”
“Not in the least. I’m assuming they were left by someone who attended the open house I had after Gran’s funeral last December.”
“But you don’t know who brought them?”
“No, I have no idea. There were so many people coming and going that day to pay their respects that I never saw who left them.”
“But that was six months ago, and you still had them?”
“Yes, we ate the fruit baskets, of course, and Mrs. Bannerman, my housekeeper, put the flowers around the house to try to cheer the place up, but I wasn’t in the mood for chocolates at the time. I had just buried my grandmother, who was like a mother to me. They must have gotten put away in the pantry.”
“Then how did they end up on the table at the library dinner?”
“When it came time for the potluck, I remembered I had forgotten to tell the cook, Mrs. Ramsay, to make something. I scrounged through the pantry to find something I could take, saw the unopened box, and thought, what the heck. So, I threw them in a couple of dishes and took them as my contribution.”
“Not much of a dinner contribution, was it?”
“Probably not, but I didn’t want to go to the dinner anyway.”
“Why did you?”
“Because I had heard Luella had arranged for a television news crew to be there, and I wanted to hear what she had to say about the library closure, in case I had to get my lawyer involved.”
“It sounds like you had a grudge with Luella Higgins. If that’s how you felt, why even bother taking the chocolates?”
“I don’t know, call it a gesture of goodwill. I knew the town already blamed me for the library closing, and I didn’t want them to hate me even more by showing up empty-handed to their stupid dinner. I have a reputation, and my publisher’s public relations department is having a hard enough time keeping this whole mess out of the news. I can see the headlines now. BESTSELLING AUTHOR CLOSES DOWN COMMUNITY LIBRARY. How do you think that’s going to go over in a press release? My book sales would plummet.”
“Okay, talk us through what you did when you got to the dinner.”
“I put the dishes on the table and was going to find a chair in the back corner to wait until the on-air interview, and that’s when I saw Addie.”
“You’re referring to Addie Greyborne of Greyborne Harbor, Massachusetts?”
“Yes, we’re old friends and went to high school together. . .”
“Addie, what are you doing out here?” Simon whispered in her ear.
Addie’s hand few to her mouth to stifle the shriek she was about to unleash. “Simon, you scared the bejesus out of me.”
Simon glanced momentarily at the deputy behind him, looked at Addie and set his gaze firm. “If you’ll kindly step back, Miss Greyborne, and allow us to pass.”
Addie did as she was asked and the two men slid into the room. Simon hung back a second and motioned as though closing the door, but to Addie’s relief his hand dropped, and he followed the deputy into the study.
“Miss Greyborne.” Paige giggled. “That’s a first.” Her warm breath wafted across Addie’s neck, but it was quickly replaced by that familiar clammy, crawling sensation. Addie spun around. Mrs. Bannerman stood staunchly in the doorway of the conservatory.
