03 Murder by Mishap (17 page)

She stood her ground. “I was about to heat some soup for lunch. Would you like to join us?” She knew she was being impertinent since, technically, it was his home, but she had never thought of the house as belonging to anyone but Peg’s family. It was the
Graystocking
Mansion, as far as she was concerned. Always was, always would be.

In the middle of an awkwardly growing silence, the doorbell rang. Stephen dropped his eyes, set his coffee cup on the counter and strode from the kitchen to answer the door. Edna knew it would be the police and was surprised that, instead of leading them through the kitchen, which would have been the usual way to reach Virginia’s rooms, he took them up the front stairs. The two women looked at each other and then at the ceiling, following the sound of heavy footsteps that mounted the three wooden steps leading to what had been
servants
quarters when the house had been built in the late nineteenth century.

Edna turned to Peg. “Why would Stephen take Virginia’s rosary?”

Peg shrugged and seemed resigned. “I don’t know. Maybe he wants to be the one to give it to the police.”

Deciding not to press the subject, Edna resumed her chore, mixing together and heating a can each of potato and cheddar cheese soups. She put out a plate of saltines, and, as the two friends ate lunch, Peg talked about the early days when Virginia had first come to work for the
Graystockings
. Each time her quiet chatter was broken by a muffled noise from above, she winced.

Edna murmured an occasional encouragement during the meal, sensing that Peg needed to talk, but her curiosity had been aroused. At the first opportunity, once they had cleared the table and Peg fell silent, Edna said, “Tell me about the lunch yesterday. Did things go well with the
Froissards
?”

“Sort of.”
Some color had returned to Peg’s face and she seemed to have perked up a little after eating. Frowning slightly, she took a minute before explaining. “I think Renee was angry with Virginia, although she tried to hide her feelings.”

“What do you mean? Did they quarrel?”

“Not exactly.
It’s hard to put my finger on.” Peg hesitated and drifted off in thought for a minute. “I sensed that Renee wanted something from Virginia, but Virginia was ignoring her. She could be very stubborn.”

“If it wasn’t obvious, what makes you think there was anything wrong?”

Peg shrugged. “There was a tension between them. Renee seemed to be trying to say something to Virginia--kind of a silent communication--but Virginia wouldn’t look at her. Mostly, it was the body language between the two that made me uncomfortable.”

“Did Guy notice it, too?”

“I think so, but I can’t be certain.” Peg shrugged. “Maybe it’s my imagination and they were just uncomfortable being back in the house after so long and all that happened.” Her brow creased with thought and she stared at her fingers as they shredded a tissue in her lap. “Renee and Guy arrived shortly before noon. Virginia and I greeted them at the door. Then Virginia went back to the kitchen to finish making lunch while I showed the
Froissards
around downstairs. I wanted them to see that I haven’t changed the place very much. After the short tour, I took them into the living room and asked if they’d like some cider before lunch. Renee said she’d get it because she’d like a word with Virginia.”

“Did she seem angry at that time?”

Peg thought about the question before slowly shaking her head. “I’d say she seemed more edgy or maybe annoyed rather than angry.”

Edna didn’t think the description sounded like someone intent on murder. “What about Guy? Did he also seem as if he were irritated with Virginia?”

In answering, Peg continued to walk Edna through the events of the afternoon. “When Renee returned with glasses of cider, she motioned for her brother to go to the kitchen. It was just a small jerk of her head. I caught it out of the corner of my eye, and I don’t think she realized I’d seen her. I was telling him about my plans for the yard, and we were going over the old photographs when she walked in.”

“So he went to the kitchen?”

“Yes. He took the tray from Renee and set it on the coffee table, then said she’d forgotten napkins. I said I’d get them, but he said to never mind, he was already up. Renee might have purposely forgotten napkins so Guy would have an excuse to talk to Virginia.”

“So they were both in the kitchen while Virginia was preparing lunch, but at different times.” Edna spoke the thought almost to herself before asking. “Was anyone else in the kitchen with her?”

Peg nodded. “I was. I helped with the salad.
Goran
came in for his lunch while Virginia and I were getting things ready. He finished eating about the time the
Froissards
arrived, when we went to answer the door.”

Edna grimaced.
“Seems like the kitchen was a busy place yesterday.”

Peg concurred. “Stephen was here, too. Remember? The
Froissards
and I were in the living room when he walked in, and I’m embarrassed to say my husband didn’t hide his displeasure over my having company.”

“I remember you telling me he’d come home unexpectedly. Hadn’t you told him about having guests for lunch?”

“Of course I had, but he acted as if their presence were totally unexpected.”

“Do you suppose his surprise was just an act and he came home purposely? Maybe he was curious about old friends of yours.”
Or jealous, he’s so possessive of you
. Edna did not speak this last thought aloud.

Peg shrugged. “I’ve given up trying to guess what motivates him. I made the introductions, and he left to let Virginia know he’d be joining us for lunch. That was the big
surprise, that
he wanted to stay. You know how uncomfortable he is with strangers.”

Edna thought “uncomfortable” was a diplomatic way of describing Stephen’s aloofness at social events, but she kept silent. Instead, she said, “So at one time or another, everyone had been in the kitchen alone or with only Virginia when the food was being prepared.”

“I’m afraid so, but I can’t think why any one of us would want to harm Virginia. It’s absurd, some sort of horrible mistake.”

Edna knew thinking that way was futile. The fact was Virginia was dead, and she’d been poisoned. Edna began to wonder how long
Goran
had been alone in the kitchen and if she’d get a chance to ask him. Aloud, she said, “What was served for lunch?”

“Virginia did her usual brilliant job,” Peg’s eyes moistened with memory and remorse. “The plates were attractive and colorful. She made baked chicken breasts with homemade cranberry relish and a salad ... a slaw really, with shredded cabbage and carrots, chopped radishes and walnuts. And she baked cherry cobbler for dessert.
One of my favorites.”
The tissue in her lap having been torn to bits, Peg reached for a paper napkin in the holder on the table to dab at her sudden tears.

“So each plate was indistinguishable from the others.” Edna spoke almost to
herself
as she wondered what was the possibility Virginia had not been the target.

“Almost,” Peg said. “Virginia’s wouldn’t have had walnuts. She was allergic. They gave her hives.”

Edna briefly bent her head to mull over what she had learned about the previous afternoon’s activities. When she looked up again, she noticed her friend’s tears flowing in earnest and was about to distract Peg by asking after
Cherisse
when footsteps sounded on the back stairs.

Virginia’s rooms were above the kitchen and consisted of a bedroom and a sitting room with a full bathroom between. When the house had first been built, all three rooms had been servants’ sleeping quarters. Peg’s father hired a contractor to convert the middle room into a bathroom when the family reduced the number of live-in staff. The bathroom, in fact, had been a necessity when maids no longer put up with outdoor facilities or bathing in cold water.

Stairs descended from the bedroom to a narrow mudroom with access to both the yard and the kitchen. A small lavatory had been added off the room, opposite the back stairs, for the convenience of household and yard workers.

At the moment, Stephen entered the kitchen from this back entryway, followed by another man. Peg looked at her husband expectantly, but it was the stranger who introduced himself as Detective Ian
Ruthers
. He was about six feet tall, dressed in black slacks and a herringbone sports coat over a crisply ironed pearl-gray shirt. His maroon tie was plain and neatly knotted. Edna guessed him to be in his mid-fifties and liked the soft baritone of his voice.

“We’re almost finished upstairs, Mrs. Bishop. I understand our team went through the kitchen last night, so we’ll just have a quick look around and be on our way.” He glanced at Stephen before turning back to Peg. His words were for them both. “I must ask you to keep yourselves available for the next few days. We may have questions, once the lab work has been completed.”

“Of course,” Peg answered quietly.

Nodding his assent to Detective
Ruthers
, Stephen motioned with an upturned palm for the man to precede him into the dining room.

Before they could disappear, Edna surprised everyone in the room by blurting, “Stephen, did you remember to give Virginia’s rosary to the police?”

For the flash of an instant, his narrowed eyes held hatred so raw that Edna’s breath caught in her throat. Because of the way they were standing, nobody else would have seen the look and she herself wondered if it had been a trick of the light, the spark faded so quickly. His face looked both innocent and startled when he turned to face the detective.

“I’d completely forgotten.” He sounded sincere as he pulled the beads from his pocket. “I don’t think an old rosary could be very important.” Holding the scarlet necklace with its silver cross up to the detective, he said, “Do you want it?”

“Everything’s important at this point, sir.” Detective
Ruthers
took a small paper bag from the inside pocket of his jacket and held it open to receive the offering. After closing the little sack, he tucked it into a side pocket while he looked curiously at Stephen. Ignoring the look, Stephen turned and led the way out of the room.

In the silence that followed their exit, Edna wondered if the rosary really had slipped Stephen’s mind, before mentally chiding herself. Was her imagination working overtime? Why would he want to hide a string of prayer beads from the police?

Chapter Sixteen

Two hours later, Edna was sitting in a rocking chair beside the brick fireplace in Peg’s library. She was re-reading Louisa May Alcott’s “Little Women” she’d found in one of the built-in bookshelves. Peg was asleep on a sofa facing the same hearth across an antique cobbler’s bench that served as a coffee table. She was huddled beneath a hand-knitted green and gold afghan, her snores so soft as to be barely audible. The fire had not been lighted, the room being warm enough. Edna was feeling drowsy and her eye lids were beginning to droop when the doorbell rang.

Peg woke with a start. “
Whaaa
...” she mumbled, looking around as if trying to figure out where she was.

“Stay put,” Edna said, getting to her feet. “I’ll go.”

She opened the door to Detective
Ruthers
and, when he asked for Mrs. Bishop, Edna showed him to the library. Peg was sitting up by the time they entered the room. She’d folded the afghan and draped it over the back of the couch. She didn’t rise at the detective’s greeting, but motioned him to the overstuffed chair opposite Edna’s rocker.

“We found the source of the poison,” he said, once they were seated and he’d refused the offer of tea or coffee. “The beads of your housekeeper’s rosary are known as lucky beans or rosary peas. According to the lab techs, they are very toxic, and apparently, Ms. Hoxie ate one.”

Peg gasped, raising a hand to her mouth. Edna
nodded,
a thought that had been hovering at the back of her mind jarred loose by the news. “I read about rosary peas in Mrs.
Rabichek’s
journals,” she said, referring to the notebooks that her house’s former owner had left to her. “The poison is
abrin
, as I recall.” She frowned. “But symptoms don’t usually show up for a day or more. Are you saying she was poisoned prior to yesterday?”

“Partially true,” he said. “The medical examiner thinks some of the poison had already been absorbed through her skin by her fingering the beads. The outer shell usually protects against that, but holes drilled to allow the seeds to be strung together plus the constant rubbing eroded the shell, exposing her to the poison.”

“Could enough poison be absorbed that way to cause so sudden a reaction,” Edna asked, still dubious. “Wouldn’t she have had symptoms before yesterday?”

The detective raised his eyebrows at Edna. “You know a lot about this poison.”

She didn’t know if he expected an answer or not, so she kept quiet.

Several seconds passed during which he studied her face before he turned back to Peg. “The M.E. says enough of this
abrin
had gotten into her system through her skin that when she ate a whole seed, the effects created a severe enough reaction to bring on her heart attack.” He kept his eyes on Peg’s when he said, “I assume you knew she had a weak heart.”