said aloud as she watched her brother pause to say something to a policeman on the doorstep. She switched on her headlights to hurry him. It worked. He waved goodbye and trotted across the gravel.
He opened the passenger door and leaned inside. “You go on, Jennifer. I’m going to walk back.”
“At this time of night? You’ll freeze.”
He laughed, causing the policemen to glance over. “I’ll be fine. I need to clear my head and talk to the boss for a while.”
“You’re mad, Simon.” Jennifer’s smile betrayed the lie. “Very well. See you at home.”
* * * *
“So what happened?” Jennifer stood by the kettle, waiting for it to boil. “You were with the inspector for hours and then you took twice as long to get home as you should have done. Have they any idea who did it?”
Simon lowered himself into the kitchen chair. “Not yet. Can you believe it? A knife in the back, no less.” He glanced at the clock. “Will you look at the time! I’ve got to be up in four hours!”
“Never mind that.” Jennifer made two cups of tea. “Who do you think murdered him?”
Simon took his drink, holding it in cupped hands. “I’ve no idea. Amanda seems the favorite suspect. She tried to get into Robert’s study several times, even after she was told Sir Robert wasn’t to be disturbed. She’s also the right height to have killed him and the right-sized feet to have left the footprints they found.”
“ Pfft .” Jennifer snorted. “It wasn’t Amanda. She’s far too nice to be a killer. Even if she did want to kill Robert, she’s too much of a lady to use a dagger. She’d have poisoned him or strangled him. Something that doesn’t leave a mess.”
Simon laughed. “Because she’d be the one cleaning up afterward? What makes you so sure she didn’t do it? Not that I think she did, mind. My bet is on the chap that stopped us for directions.”
“I just know her too well, that’s all.”
Simon frowned. “How could you know her? We hadn’t met her before last night.”
“You hadn’t, anyway.” Jennifer smiled into her tea.
Simon twigged. “She’s one of your gossip cronies, isn’t she?”
“So what if she is?” she said through pursed lips. “I was right about Grace Peters, wasn’t I?”
Simon nodded, lost in thought. “You were indeed.” He was silent for a moment then looked up, his forehead creased. “That’s how you knew about the dagger as well! I never mentioned it.”
* * * *
With the police gone, the household had a chance to look over the scene of the crime, despite the yellow police tape over the door and Inspector White’s warning not to disturb anything.
Amanda pointed at the spatter markers and the red stain. “How am I supposed to get that out of the carpet? That’s the stain from Hell that is.”
Nicole loosened her hair from its tight pins. She couldn’t help herself. “How about Jesus soap-on-a-rope and holy water?” She grinned at the expression on Amanda’s face as she crossed herself. “And don’t give me that Catholic girl rot. I’ve known you too long.”
Peter grinned. “Don’t let our esteemed police confidant Father Brande hear you say that. He’d have you excommunicated.”
Chapter 12
Mary watched the priest pull up at the side of the White Art and jump out of his car, leaving it running on a double yellow line. With a perverse and somewhat guilty hope, she wondered if a policeman would come along and give him a ticket. She didn’t like Simon Brande much. He was too much the ladies’ man to be a proper priest.
He tried the door handle several times and resorted to banging on it. Was he really that much of an alcoholic that he was so desperate? She tucked herself behind a tree and took her phone out, opening the lens cover and setting it to video. At the very least an irate priest should earn her some page views on YouTube.
Simon pulled on the handle again, giving it one twist too much for tolerance. Mary had to clamp
He opened the passenger door and leaned inside. “You go on, Jennifer. I’m going to walk back.”
“At this time of night? You’ll freeze.”
He laughed, causing the policemen to glance over. “I’ll be fine. I need to clear my head and talk to the boss for a while.”
“You’re mad, Simon.” Jennifer’s smile betrayed the lie. “Very well. See you at home.”
* * * *
“So what happened?” Jennifer stood by the kettle, waiting for it to boil. “You were with the inspector for hours and then you took twice as long to get home as you should have done. Have they any idea who did it?”
Simon lowered himself into the kitchen chair. “Not yet. Can you believe it? A knife in the back, no less.” He glanced at the clock. “Will you look at the time! I’ve got to be up in four hours!”
“Never mind that.” Jennifer made two cups of tea. “Who do you think murdered him?”
Simon took his drink, holding it in cupped hands. “I’ve no idea. Amanda seems the favorite suspect. She tried to get into Robert’s study several times, even after she was told Sir Robert wasn’t to be disturbed. She’s also the right height to have killed him and the right-sized feet to have left the footprints they found.”
“ Pfft .” Jennifer snorted. “It wasn’t Amanda. She’s far too nice to be a killer. Even if she did want to kill Robert, she’s too much of a lady to use a dagger. She’d have poisoned him or strangled him. Something that doesn’t leave a mess.”
Simon laughed. “Because she’d be the one cleaning up afterward? What makes you so sure she didn’t do it? Not that I think she did, mind. My bet is on the chap that stopped us for directions.”
“I just know her too well, that’s all.”
Simon frowned. “How could you know her? We hadn’t met her before last night.”
“You hadn’t, anyway.” Jennifer smiled into her tea.
Simon twigged. “She’s one of your gossip cronies, isn’t she?”
“So what if she is?” she said through pursed lips. “I was right about Grace Peters, wasn’t I?”
Simon nodded, lost in thought. “You were indeed.” He was silent for a moment then looked up, his forehead creased. “That’s how you knew about the dagger as well! I never mentioned it.”
* * * *
With the police gone, the household had a chance to look over the scene of the crime, despite the yellow police tape over the door and Inspector White’s warning not to disturb anything.
Amanda pointed at the spatter markers and the red stain. “How am I supposed to get that out of the carpet? That’s the stain from Hell that is.”
Nicole loosened her hair from its tight pins. She couldn’t help herself. “How about Jesus soap-on-a-rope and holy water?” She grinned at the expression on Amanda’s face as she crossed herself. “And don’t give me that Catholic girl rot. I’ve known you too long.”
Peter grinned. “Don’t let our esteemed police confidant Father Brande hear you say that. He’d have you excommunicated.”
Chapter 12
Mary watched the priest pull up at the side of the White Art and jump out of his car, leaving it running on a double yellow line. With a perverse and somewhat guilty hope, she wondered if a policeman would come along and give him a ticket. She didn’t like Simon Brande much. He was too much the ladies’ man to be a proper priest.
He tried the door handle several times and resorted to banging on it. Was he really that much of an alcoholic that he was so desperate? She tucked herself behind a tree and took her phone out, opening the lens cover and setting it to video. At the very least an irate priest should earn her some page views on YouTube.
Simon pulled on the handle again, giving it one twist too much for tolerance. Mary had to clamp
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