The Butler Didn't Do It

A Lady Almost Never Tells

“Well, I’m certainly glad I don’t have to clean it up.” A voice broke through the din downstairs.

Lars was joking n the kitchen with some of his friends who guffawed at his joke. The death of the old woman was not met with grief by some of the staff. There were those who saw the demise of the cranky regular as almost funny. In some part of their brains, they believed Martina had long deserved her fate. A few even whispered that they only wished they had been the one to pull the trigger. Brett was about to lose all hope in humanity when he noticed that the majority was not joining in the cheerful mood. Lucy, who’d been keeping to herself in the corner finally spoke up, in a tight voice. “ Someone just died.”

“It seems to happen a lot recently.” Lars shot back.

“You could be a little more sensitive.”

Lars sneered at her “Me? You’re the one trying to defend a murderer.”

“I’m not even going to dignify that with a response. You know he’s innocent.”

But Lars kept pressing. “You don’t find it weird that he hasn’t been seen since that stodgy professor died?” He smiled in triumph when Lucy didn’t answer. And then he turned back to his friends.

I have to admit I can’t think of anyone who’s going to mourn the old lady.

“She was a thorn in everyone’s side.

“My water’s not hot enough.” One of his friends joked.

“My water’s too hot.” Another added.

“Back in my day young people listened to the elderly.” A boy croaked.

Several people, mostly located in Lars’ vicinity cracked up. Brett felt sick. He’d felt no love for the old woman. But he related to her loneliness. Like her, he felt left out, always on the side. At least she seemed to have a mission that drove her. Brett was just rudderless. If I were murdered, by a killer who was NOT Gregory, would people make light-hearted puns about my death as well?

Tanya stood up. She’d had enough. With a dignity that purple hair did nothing to detract from, in fact in only gained more attention from onlookers as they watched her cross the kitchen, she marched out of the room saying as she did, “I can see why none of you became ladies, maids, you lack all class.”

There was a bark of laughter and some of those who’d been so flippant had the decency to blush in shame. Some. Others were muttering about “Purple-haired slut has no right to judge us…” Brett wanted to go and tell them off but before he could he noticed Max and Wen follow Tanya’s lead and walk out of the door into the hall. Brett stood up and started to walk that way for a moment as if to follow them, but he paused. He’d been an ass earlier, did he really want to go to them only to be rejected. And HE certainly wasn’t going to apologize. He’d had every right to be an asshole. But he thought of Martina. The old Brett would have shrugged like he didn’t care. But Brett knew he did care. Was the desire to not admit he was wrong stronger than his desire for friendship? Should he go to them or continue the investigation alone. Pondering. his he was freed from the burden of choice when it was made for him.

“Hey you,” Lars loomed over Brett. “Lay Audrey’s bell is ringing. As we are all busy,” He indicated several of his fellow maids and butlers all of whom were most decidedly not busy, “You can take care of this.”

Glaring Brett knew he couldn’t refuse. He certainly didn’t have any friends here who would jump in on his defense. Embarrassed at his obvious vulnerability, he headed up the stairs. When he reached Audrey’s door. The halls were bustling with police who were asking the guests questions. He saw Lady Audrey’s door was closed. He put his ear to the highly polished wood and listened. No voices. That meant she must be alone. Or sleeping. He knew he would take a sleeping pill and try to stave off the worse of a friends murder if he could. Still, she’d rung. Hesitantly, he knocked on the door.

“Come in, “Lady Audrey called from inside. Her voice sounded hoarse.

Frowning, Brett opened the door. He stood at butlery attention. The room was immaculate; Lady Audrey certainly didn’t need a maid as badly as her daughter. On her table was neatly stacked with books and a glass that now stood empty. He saw a pair of glasses on the bed with a book about WWI, both seemingly cast aside, the only items out of place in her otherwise perfectly organized room. Brett couldn’t help but feel sorry for the woman who obviously loved perfection. Her ex was a nightmare, her daughter seemed to despise her, and now one of her closest confidants at the manor was dead. He saw her standing stood by the window, her back to him.

“I need a cup of tea, With half a lemon and honey if you please,” Audrey spoke politely, without emotion. She didn’t turn around.

“Certainly. Anything else I can get you?”

“No.” Her answer was blunt, an obvious sign she wanted to be left alone.

Brett turned to leave, but he couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that he should say more.

“Ma’m, may I be bold?” He asked, keeping in character.

Audrey turned to face him. Her eyes were puffy and red. Though her face was dry. “What is it?”

Brett bowed slightly. “I believe you and the lady Martina were quite good friends?”

She was slightly taken aback by his comment. “We had become close recently, yes.”

“May I offer my sincerest sympathies? I know what it’s like to lose a friend.” It was a small lie, but one that was needed to make her feel comfortable. He also was surprised to realize that though he needed information, his condolences not completely fabricated. Perhaps it was being in such a vulnerable situation himself that he was. Non-Butler Brett would never have offered to comfort a grieving woman. Particularly on the death of a cranky old widow who’d been known to make life difficult. A part of him knew Brett pre-Bower’s Manor would have been laughing with Lars and his friends.

“Thank you. That’s…kind of you.”

“It was also a particularly violent way to go. The rest of the staff is in shock.” Another lie. “Do you have any idea who would want to do such a thing?”

Audrey seemed frustrated. “She was old and cranky and got on people’s nerves, but there was no reason to kill her. “ She looked around the room, agitated, I “It would have had to have been someone who knew the play. Everyone knew that the scene used that top drawer.”

“Everyone read it.”

“The strangest part is it might not have been her who was the target. “ Audrey said, paling a little.

Brett’s ears perked up. “What do you mean?”

Lady Audrey eyed him, “So I’m guessing you didn’t actually read the play?”

“I skimmed it…we only had an hour to prepare.”

Hitting her head Lady Audrey murmured to herself, “Oh I forgot that staff didn’t read the play before arriving at the manor.” She gathers a shawl around herself and continues. “In the play, it is the seamstress who goes for the letter. I was supposed to grab it from the desk and she was supposed to put it back. Had I opened the drawer at the beginning of the scene you would be talking to Martina right now, and not me.”

“Oh?” Had Audrey been the intended victim? Or was this just extreme survivor guilt.

The woman nodded. “The letter was already sitting on the desk. I thought it was unusual but since it was a trial run I didn’t say anything. I wish….”

Brett thought about it. So when was the gun planted, when sets were being moved in between scenes, or before anyone arrived? Was leaving the paper out been a way to ensure that the old woman was the first to open the drawer? Or had the killer simply been in a hurry and not been forgotten to place the letter in the drawer because he (or she) was rushing.

Audrey’s next sentence interrupted his theories. “You were friends with the butler who disappeared, weren’t you?

“I am, “ Brett replied, forcing in the present tense to make a point.

She noticed. “Right, sorry for the past tense. “She smiled wryly, “there’s a lot of that going around. Were you aware he had a bad relationship with Martina?

“I didn’t know he could have so many bad relationships. But in all fairness who did have a good relationship with her?”

“Well, Martina could be difficult to have a good relationship with…” Audrey conceded, “Still that fact that he’s lurking around “ her look turned cold, “stabbing people’s innocent daughters—“

“We don’t know it was him!”

“As I was saying,’ Audrey continued, ‘Martina told the police last year he had an altercation with her after she asked that the maid, the one who disappeared, be removed from her place as Lady Maid. He called Martina selfish.”

Brett jumped in to defend Gregory. “I’m told she was pretty insensitive to the needs of the staff.”

“I think she was just angry. She was so consumed with that anger she didn’t always see how her actions affected others.” Audrey wasn’t arguing. She was talking mostly to herself.

Brett pressed on. ‘She mentioned she had a daughter who was married to Rodgers.”

Didi’s mother nodded. “That’s how she came to be here. When her daughter died, she left all her shares of the place to Martina.

“I bet Rodgers was not happy about that.” Brett was certain he guess was correct.

“No, I don’t think he was. He might be a good owner of the manor, but according to Martina, he wasn’t a very good husband. And perhaps not a great owner…”

“Why say that?” Brett tried to ask without betraying his interest.

“I know she was always suspicious of her daughter’s death.” Audrey continued, “I don’t know everything she knew, she kept telling me to come play archery with her and she’d explain. I do hate that sport though and kept avoiding it. I wish the old woman hadn’t loved puzzles so much.”

“Puzzles?”

“Like Ciphers, codes, riddles. She was afraid she was being watched so she wouldn’t keep anything in her room. I bet she had a treasure trove of information that she hid somewhere.

“It’s not important.” Her tone showed she didn’t want to discuss the point further. He decided he’d pursue it later.

“You also own shares though.”

Audrey raised an eyebrow “I guess staff does talk.”

Brett smiled. “We have nothing else to do while we scrub.”

“My husband…ex husband and I both invested. Since it was my money prior to marriage I kept the lion’s share. I would have given it to him…”

“Yes…”

“But I wanted to hurt him. And then Martina contacted me.”

“What did she say?” He sounded too eager. He needed to know. But he wasn’t careful and came across ass too forward, breaking the spell. Audrey snapped out of her fog and realized she was talking familiarly with a person who she didn’t even know.

“I don’t see why that’s important for you to know. Also aren’t you going to get my tea? “

“I—“

“Go, before I report you for, I don’t know, dallying or something. “

“Brett left to get her tea. He was surprised once again how much she had been willing to talk.”

Brett knew that there were answers somewhere. He thought of the old woman’s fascination with archery. He wondered if he’d find any clues to her knowledge of the manor there. Perhaps she hadn’t spent so much time there just to shoot arrows. Perhaps all that time alone was to keep her own investigation private.

Only one way to find out.