Murder at Honeychurch Hall: A Mystery (29 page)

BOOK: Murder at Honeychurch Hall: A Mystery
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“Harry presented me with William’s mouse probably hoping I wouldn’t notice,” I said. “When I questioned him, he became upset and ran off. I followed him and ended up near the grotto.”

Shawn and Roxy exchanged a look as if to say,
sure you did.

I felt my temper rise. “I saw something glinting in the undergrowth that looked like Morse code. I thought Harry was sending me a message but it was the sunlight bouncing off the snuff box.”

“Snuff box?” said Lady Edith. “A snuff box?”

“As you know, Edith,” said William smoothly, “Kat found the Meissen with the elephant on the lid in the sunken garden and she gave it to me.”

“The elephant!” Lady Edith exclaimed and then seemed confused. “But why didn’t you tell me?”

“I did tell you,” said William. He walked over to the tulipwood and marquetry display cabinet, reached far inside, and handed it to Lady Edith.

“You most certainly did not tell me.” Lady Edith examined it closely. “Thankfully there doesn’t seem to be any damage.”

Lavinia gripped Harry’s arm tightly. “Did you take that from Granny?”

Harry started to cry. “I didn’t touch it. I promise. I didn’t.”

“Now, now, stop all this nonsense,” said Rupert. “If he said he didn’t touch it, he didn’t touch it.”

“I think he’s had enough, Shawn.” Roxy stepped forward. “Master Harry, would you like to come with me and get an ice cream?”

Harry allowed Roxy to take his hand and they left the drawing room.

Once everyone seemed to have settled down again, Mum suddenly spoke. “Officer? When were you planning on telling us that the nanny—Gayla—has been found?”

There was a universal chorus of surprise. Good old Mum. I knew she’d done this to take the focus off me and I was grateful. Frankly, I was disappointed that Shawn could even begin to suspect I’d had something to do with Vera’s murder.

“Yes, it’s true,” said Shawn. “Gayla Tarasova is alive and well.”

“Thank you for letting us know, Shawn,” said Lady Edith crossly.

“All that fuss for nothing,” said Lavinia. “Where was she?”

“In Dartmouth,” Shawn said. “Gayla was picked up for shoplifting with her friend Anna.”

“I told you she had a friend called Anna,” said Mum.

Lavinia frowned. “But why would Gayla put us through all that worry? I don’t understand.”

“I’m at a loss, too, Shawn,” said Rupert. “What about her suitcase? Why leave all her clothes behind?”

“The suitcase was empty when we found it,” said Shawn. “A fact I couldn’t have revealed at the time.”

“There was
nothing
in it?” Rupert said incredulously.

“She had a second suitcase inside the first,” said Shawn. “Ms. Tarasova admitted abandoning the larger one in the hedge and cutting through the fields to the village where her friend was waiting for her. She never intended to catch the train.”

“I hope you’ll charge her for wasting police time,” said Rupert.

“Gayla provided us with a full statement of what happened. It appears she was upset at being accused of theft. Apparently, she and Vera had a bit of a fight.”

Lavinia rolled her eyes. “How tedious.”

“I’m afraid there was more to it, your ladyship,” said Shawn. “Gayla had been having an affair with—”

“Me,” Eric shouted.

Mum and I exchanged looks of surprise.

“Eric’s always been a bit of a ladies’ man,” said Rupert with obvious relief.

Of course Eric was lying. He was also covering for Rupert—given their volatile disagreement on Saturday night. I wondered what had changed between them.

Still Lady Edith didn’t comment. She seemed to be in a world of her own, mumbling incoherently, shaking her head, and stealing the occasional sidelong glance at my mother who, in turn, was watching William’s every move.

Lavinia frowned. “So you think it was Gayla who
killed
Vera?”

“My poor Vera.” Eric gave a strangled sob. “We had our problems but I loved her.”

“I’m afraid not,” said Shawn. “You see—Gayla couldn’t have committed the crime because she spent the weekend at Her Majesty’s pleasure in Dartmouth Police Station.”

There was a ripple of shock.

Lady Edith finally spoke. “It’s time for the truth,” she said. “I’m tired of all the secrets and lies.”

“I am, too,” I said, more loudly than I intended.

Mum scrambled to her feet. “We’ll be off then,” she said. “This is obviously a family affair and you won’t want us here.”

“On the contrary, Mrs. Stanford,” Shawn said. “We need to go over Vera’s last movements again and we want you
both
here. Very much indeed.”

 

Chapter Twenty-four

“The coroner informed us that Vera died somewhere between midnight and six on Sunday morning.” Shawn began to pace the room. “She suffered a blunt force trauma to the side of her head—”

“Oh, how frightful,” said Lavinia. “You mean someone struck her with a heavy object?”

“Possibly,” said Shawn. “But she regained consciousness. The actual cause of death was by asphyxiation.”

There was a universal gasp of horror.

“You mean she was suffocated?” Eric exclaimed. “How? With what?”

“I’m afraid I can’t tell you that. We haven’t yet discovered where the first attack took place,” said Shawn, adding apologetically, “We’re a bit short-staffed.”

“I thought it happened in the grotto,” said Rupert.

“No. Her body was taken to the grotto—possibly by car,” Shawn said. “The service road runs alongside the property.”

Shawn flipped to a new page in his moleskin notepad and addressed Lady Edith and Lavinia. “Ladies? Where were you on Saturday night?”

“Edith and I attended a committee meeting in Tavistock followed by a frightfully long, dreary dinner at Shipley Abbey,” said Lavinia. “We go every year to finalize the details for next month’s Honeychurch Hall Sidesaddle Championship. It will be our forty-fifth year. It’s a tremendous tradition.”

“And what time did you get home that night?” Shawn asked.

“About two-thirty,” Lavinia replied. “We didn’t leave the hotel until midnight and as you know, it’s across the moors and we got a little lost.”

“You let Mother drive, didn’t you?” Rupert exclaimed. “I told you she mustn’t drive at night.”

Lavinia ignored his outburst and carried on. “I remembered looking at my watch because we went to check on Jupiter—she’s a frightfully valuable mare—and William was still there.”

“That’s right,” said William. “As I said, Jupiter had colic and Ian Masters—our vet—thought it wise for me to stay with her overnight. Do you want Ian’s telephone number?”

“I’ve already spoken to him,” said Clive from the sidelines. “He’s a mate. We play rugby together. Ian confirmed that he gave Jupiter a dose of ketamine to alleviate her symptoms and left an extra shot with you in case she needed more.”

“Quite the old boys’ club,” whispered Mum.

Shawn motioned for Clive to step forward and whispered the word, “
Paris.

Clive delved into the Tesco shopping bag and pulled out the Eiffel Tower keepsake tin I recognized from Vera’s cottage.

“Just pop it on the coffee table where everyone can see, will you?” Shawn asked Clive.

Rupert inhaled sharply and turned pale. “Good God!”

“Vera always dreamt of going to Paris,” said Eric.

“I believe this tin belonged to Kelly,” said Shawn. “Isn’t that right, m’lord?”

Rupert nodded but didn’t speak.

“Do we have to talk about that frightful girl?” said Lady Edith. “She died years ago.”

“No more secrets and lies, your ladyship,” Shawn said firmly. “Isn’t that what you said?”

“Where did you find the tin?” Rupert asked.

“At the bottom of Vera’s freezer in the potting shed,” said Shawn.

“In our freezer?” Eric exclaimed. “What the hell was it doing in there?”

“Do you want to open it and see what’s inside?” Shawn said.

Rupert didn’t need any encouragement. In two quick strides he snatched up the tin and removed the lid. “My God. It’s Kelly’s EpiPen!”

“And I believe there is another pen in there, too,” said Shawn. “A fountain pen with the initials L-M-C-H.”

Rupert frowned and turned to Lavinia. “This is your fountain pen,” he said. “Lavinia Mary Carew Honeychurch.”

Lavinia opened her mouth and shut it again. She seemed unable to speak.

“What’s going on?” Rupert demanded. “Why was Lavinia’s pen in Kelly’s tin and what has this got to do with my wife?”

“I wonder which wife you are talking about, Rupert,” said Lady Edith coldly.

Lavinia reddened. “Vera must have stolen my pen.”

“Is that why you were at Vera’s cottage yesterday morning?” said Shawn. “Looking for that pen?”

Rupert raked his fingers through his hair, clearly bewildered. “Won’t someone tell me what the hell is going on here?”

“Perhaps you’d like to enlighten us, Lady Lavinia?” said Shawn.

“Nothing is going on,” said Lavinia.

Mrs. Cropper stepped forward. “If you won’t say something, your ladyship,” she said gravely, “I will.”

Lavinia sprang to her feet. “Alright. Yes. It’s true!” she cried. “It was an accident. I didn’t even know that a wretched bee had stung Kelly. She just collapsed I tell you.” Tears filled Lavinia’s eyes. “She went purple in the face and collapsed!”

“Take a deep breath now,” said Shawn. “Tell us everything.”

“Kelly and I arranged to go riding. It was a hot summer day and the honeybees were acting up. Cropper asked me to make sure Kelly took her EpiPen with her in case she got stung—”

“Did you know Kelly was allergic to bees?” asked Shawn.

Lavinia shrugged. “Vera said Kelly was making it up to get attention.”

“Go on,” Rupert’s voice was icy.

“So we both hid it.”

“Hid it,” Shawn echoed. “Where?”

“It was childish, I know—and I changed my mind,” said Lavinia. “I ran back to the Hall to find Vera but she’d disappeared—along with the EpiPen.” Lavinia appealed to Rupert. “I swear it was an accident.”

“You were jealous of Kelly,” said Shawn. “Because you and Rupert had been engaged before they eloped during a New Year’s Eve dinner. Isn’t that true?”

“You know jolly well we were engaged.” Lavinia recovered a tiny bit of her self-respect and added, “Don’t be so pompous!”

“But it all worked out for you in the end,” Shawn went on. “Because just months after Kelly’s death you fell pregnant and his lordship did the decent thing and married you after all.”

“I told you it was a frightful, frightful accident.” Lavinia was becoming hysterical. “I made sure we didn’t go anywhere near the hives. One moment she was fine and we were drinking cherry brandy and the next minute, she fell off her horse.” Lavinia turned to Rupert pleading again, “You must believe me.”

He turned away and strode over to the window, gazing out—presumably—at the white marble angel on the banks of the lake.

Despite the seriousness of the situation, I was utterly gripped and I could tell Mum was, too. She was leaning forward with her mouth open in awe. I could almost hear her mind working out a new plot for her Star-Crossed Lovers Series.

“I galloped back to the Hall to get the EpiPen,” Lavinia continued. “Vera pretended she didn’t know what I was talking about. She denied any knowledge of her part. She never liked me—”

“But she disliked Kelly more,” Shawn put in.

“You can’t force a bee to sting someone,” said Mum suddenly.

“She wasn’t stung,” said Mrs. Cropper quietly. “If anyone is to blame for Kelly’s death, it’s me.”

Shawn looked confused. “Gran?”


Apis mellifera
is the secret ingredient in my homemade cherry brandy.”

“Bee venom,” said Shawn flatly.

“It’s what makes it taste so sweet,” said Mrs. Cropper. “Vera knew that.”

Lavinia frowned. “Vera gave me the cherry brandy—”

“Vera knew what was in it,” said Mrs. Cropper.

“And she knew Kelly was allergic.”

“So, I’m not to blame?” gasped Lavinia.

Rupert sat down.

“Kelly was a tart, Rupert,” said Lady Edith. “Everyone knows she was sleeping with Detective Constable Banks.”

All eyes swiveled to Clive who turned beetroot red. “It—it—only happened once,” he stammered. “Or was it twice?”

“And—as you already admitted—with
you,
Eric,” added Lady Edith.

“That was before Kelly married his lordship,” he said defensively. “It doesn’t count.”

Bong! Bong!
A deafening shimmer of sound silenced the room. Cropper stood next to the Gibraltar gong, hammer in hand.

“Thank you, Gramps,” said Shawn. When everyone had settled down he added, “When did Vera start blackmailing you, Lavinia?”

Lavinia blanched. “You
knew
? But how?”

Shawn motioned for Clive to step forward again. This time he withdrew the box of
vol-au-vents
and set it down next to the Eiffel Tower keepsake tin.

“We found one thousand pounds in this empty box of
vol-au-vents
in the bottom of the freezer. Did you put the money in there yesterday morning?”

Lavinia nodded.

I stifled a cry of relief. Thank God I’d been wrong about my mother succumbing to blackmail.

“One thousand pounds!” shouted Rupert. “One
thousand
! Do you think we’re made of money?”

“Oh shut up, Rupert,” snapped Lavinia. “It’s from my trust fund. I do have my own money, you know.”

“But why pay Vera?” said Rupert.

Tears welled up in Lavinia’s eyes again. “She threatened to tell you that I’d stolen Kelly’s EpiPen. I was terrified you’d divorce me if you found out because … I love you, Rupert. I always have.”

Rupert looked surprised. “You do?”

“The silly thing is that I realize now that Vera couldn’t have proved any of it. I panicked. I suppose you’ll divorce me now.” Lavinia pulled a handkerchief out of her pocket and gently dabbed at her eyes. “How frightfully embarrassing this all is. I am so sorry, Edith.”

“I don’t get it,” said Eric suddenly. “Why would Vera want to blackmail anyone?”

Shawn motioned to Clive a third time. He pulled out the two sausage roll boxes and put those on the coffee table, too.

BOOK: Murder at Honeychurch Hall: A Mystery
7.73Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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