Araminta considered the possibility, but it didn’t hold. No, it was Daisy she’d seen in the garden. She was sure of it. Just as sure as she was that she’d seen Daisy with a man. But Daisy was adamant she hadn’t been out there, so perhaps Araminta was mistaken. She made a mental note to make an appointment with her eye doctor.
Not wanting to upset the woman who had just lost her husband, Araminta let it go and said her good nights. She left Daisy standing in the hallway and made her way to her room. Was it possible there had been someone else out there in the shadows last night?
Of course, it was possible… but Araminta didn’t think so.
Chapter Five
The next morning, Araminta was up early. She had never been the type to sleep in, and this morning was no exception. She wasn’t the only one awake shortly after dawn. She met Daisy in the hallway as she made her way to the breakfast room.
“Good morning, Daisy. I hope you slept well.”
“As well as can be expected, I suppose,” Daisy answered. Her expression puzzled, she said, “Lovely outfit this morning.”
Araminta touched the lapels of her black silk jacket, brushed her palms along the sides of the black-and-neon-green skirt, then turned this way and that to show off the ensemble she’d chosen to wear on the first day after Archibald’s death. “It is, isn’t it? Thank you. I thought it appropriate, considering. There is a matching hat, but I don’t think I’ll need it. I won’t be outside much today.”
“Er, yes. Well…” Daisy started then paused when the peal of the doorbell interrupted whatever she had been about to say.
Araminta glanced down at the end of the hallway, where Harold stood busily arranging a vase of freshly cut flowers that sat on a gilded side table. Lost in his work, he didn’t even look up. Poor Harold, his hearing must be getting worse. He must not have heard the bell.
“Excuse me,” Daisy said. She hurried to Harold and gently tapped his shoulder. “Harold, dear, there is someone at the door.”
Harold’s expression went from questioning to blank. “Yes, of course. I was just finishing up.”
He gave the flowers one last twitch then walked off toward the front of the house.
Daisy sighed and turned back to Araminta. “He’s such a dear.”
“Indeed, but the fellow is as deaf as a post and twice as blind!”
Araminta’s customary bluntness brought a quick smile to Daisy’s lips. It flickered and was immediately squashed when Harold returned with news.
“It’s Inspector Hershey, madams. I have placed him in the front parlor. I will have Trinity bring a tray with coffee and sweets to sample while he waits for one of you,” Harold told them.
Daisy thanked the butler then headed toward the front parlor, her expression dim. “You may join me if you wish, Araminta. If he’s back again so soon after Archibald’s death, he can’t possibly be bringing good news.”
Araminta didn’t need urging. She was already fast on Daisy’s heels. “Of course I shall join you. Archie’s death was such a shock to us all, but I believe Bernard and Reggie are still fast asleep. You shouldn’t have to face the inspector on your own, whatever his news.”
Araminta really did want to give Daisy her support and didn’t want her to face the police alone, but more than that, she was dying to hear what they had to say, because Daisy was right—if they were here this soon, it had to mean the case had taken a turn.
The front parlor was a bright room that was crowded with velvet-upholstered carved-mahogany furniture. Back when Araminta was younger, the room had been very dark and imposing, but Daisy had had the heavy velvet drapes removed and sheers installed along the row of arched windows, which had really brightened the place up.
Ivan got to his feet when Daisy and Araminta stepped into the room. For a second, Araminta was transported to days gone by and similar scenes with Ivan’s grandfather. Usually, those did not end well. The two men actually looked a bit alike. Both were tall and had thick wavy hair, a long aquiline nose, and piercing blue eyes. She hoped Ivan was a lot less of a stick-in-the-mud than his grandfather. Araminta noted the bit of stiffness in Ivan’s shoulders and braced herself. No one was as tense as he was if they were bringing positive information. “What have you learned about Archie?”
Ivan cleared his throat. “Ah, perhaps you should sit.”
Daisy did so, perching carefully on the edge of the rose chintz Queen Anne wingback chair nearest the fireplace, but Araminta waved his suggestion away. “Out with it, Hershey. Was the cause of our darling Archibald’s death a heart attack, as we all suspect it was?”
“No,” Archie informed them. “I’m afraid your nephew was murdered, Ms. Moorecliff. Archibald was poisoned. Either he did the deed himself—which is highly unlikely—or someone among you went to some lengths to make sure he didn’t survive dinner.”
Daisy’s gasp filled the room. She slumped against the back of the chair. Araminta understood her horror but ignored her for the moment. If someone in this house had murdered Archie, Ivan must know how and have some suspicions about who. Araminta needed that information.
“Poison?” she asked the inspector. “What kind of poison?”
“Convallatoxin,” Ivan said. “While the amount we found in his bloodstream might not have killed anyone else, it was enough to kill Archie because he already had a heart condition.”
Araminta felt as if she’d been dealt a blow. Who in this household would have wanted Archie dead? Every one of them was family.
“Given that the toxin takes effect within twenty minutes of being administered, we have concluded it must have been in the food,” Hershey continued. “Has anyone else in the household complained of malaise? Anyone else who ingested it would certainly have become ill.”
“Someone is sick?” Reginald asked as he stepped into the room. He looked as if he’d slept rather badly, if at all.
He was followed into the room by his uncle Bernard, who drew up at the sight of the inspector. “Oh dear. Someone else has fallen ill? Daisy? Is it you?”
From her still-slumped position in the chair, Daisy gave a weak shake of her head.
Bernard turned his bloodshot eyes on the inspector. “Inspector, I insist that you tell us what’s going on.”
Araminta didn’t give the inspector a chance. “Archibald was murdered. Convallatoxin. Someone must have slipped the poison into his food.”
“Mary is the cook,” Bernard volunteered. “But she doted on Archie and would have no reason to wish him ill at all. Are you perfectly certain, Inspector?”
Ivan nodded grimly. “We’re certain he was poisoned but not certain the poison was meant for him.”
“Oh.” Araminta frowned. She hadn’t considered that. But the fact that no one else was ill indicated that the killer knew exactly who they were giving the poison to, unless they had made a terrible mistake.
Hershey continued, “Who served the meal?”
“It was Harold, the butler,” Reginald said, and the inspector turned to him with an inquisitive look.
“Is that normal, then? Your butler also serving dinner?”