7. Breakfast Beckons-2
1544 Words
“Doesn"t it always?”
“Hey, babe, that hurts.”
I bit my tongue, offered a chuckle that probably sounded as fake as it felt, and ran down what I was looking for. It probably wasn"t the wisest thing to do – asking Ger to conduct actual research – but maybe it wouldn"t hurt. He"d have a chance to use some brain cells (if there were any left).
“You"re looking wide awake and ready to tackle the day,” Percival commented across the table before forking fluffy eggs between his lips.
“The workout equaled five espressos,” I said cheerfully, stirring milk into a mug with a character resembling Count Chocula on it and taking a surreptitious glance around to see if any eyes were peering merrily around a corner or through a window.
“Gawd, you"re actually eating,” Rey groused, semi-staggering into the room. She was dressed in black jeans, black Roslynn UGGs (same as mine), and a cashmere fern-green turtleneck that would have offset her eyes quite nicely if they hadn"t been bloodshot.
“The frittatas are delicious.” Prunella beckoned my cousin to the chair beside her.
“Ugh. I"ll just have some java.” She plunked herself down and gazed from one face to another, as if attempting to recollect who each one belonged to and why they were here at the table. She gulped back Linda"s coffee, sighed deeply, and nearly smiled. “Any more news on our weird lawyer?”
“Our weird dead lawyer,” Linda said, eyeing her empty cup with a frown.
dead“There hasn"t been any word,” Jensen responded, spreading something resembling mushroom paté on a thick slice of white bread. I"d half expected him to request Marmite.
Rey"s brow puckered and she watched Beatrice carry in a bone china coffeepot. “Are we still expected to stay, considering?”
“Yes Miss Fonne-Werde. "Regardless of what may occur", so our mistress stipulated.” The maid offered a near smile. What an interesting if not unnerving voice she had: a hint of an Ingrid Bergman accent coupled with a Humphrey Bogart timber. The maid refilled more cups and did her lumbering thing across the room, leaving a whisper of rosewater behind.
“Let"s hope no one else suffers a fatal accident,” Jensen said with a dry smile.
“What "accident"? The man was murdered!” Rey was being melodramatic again.
“Come now, young lady –”
“He was murdered!”
Jensen"s haunted look was replaced by one of amusement.
“Did anyone hear any singing last night?” Adwin asked, attempting to navigate the conversation into less choppy waters.
“I did, I think.” Rey frowned and peered into her cup as if its steaming contents would confirm her uncertainty. “A happy-go-lucky kind of song. Remember, Linda? You were coming out of the washroom when I mentioned it?”
Hadn"t Linda said Rey was passed out? “Was that before or after you complained about the spins and hung your head out the window?” she smirked.
“Fun-nny gir-rl.”
“Now that you mention it, I remember thinking someone had the radio on too loud, but it wasn"t on for long, so I turned my attention elsewhere.” Prunella looked at her brother. “Perc, do you recall? You"d been staring out the window and talked about hot cocoa.”
Brother and sister shared a bedroom? How gruesome.
“I didn"t hear anything,” the brother responded, the barest crinkling of his forehead suggesting he was perturbed.
What was he staring at out the window? Did it matter?
“What"s on the agenda for today?” Prunella asked, pushing her empty plate forward, and starting to finger the bird pendant. “Surely we aren"t expected to sit and eat all day?”
“We"re not allowed to leave the estate, but that doesn"t mean we can"t stroll through it. It wouldn"t hurt to get fresh air while the weather"s still decent.” I replied lightheartedly. I motioned the necklace. “That"s most interesting. Is it … a vulture?”
“Why yes. How perceptive,” she twittered.
“It looks old.”
“It"s eighteenth-century and belonged to Detlef Huhnfuss, a very wealthy and rather loopy baron who"d been known for elaborate week-long soirees,” Percival explained. “We were quite fortunate to have found it – at a decent price – while in Bavaria twenty years ago. Prunella loves it so much, she"s rarely without it.”
“It"s my lucky charm,” she grinned, slapping his hand gently. “Just like you.”
“Didn"t the baron have at least six huge estates with large, intricate mazes?” Linda asked.
“He had eight and they did indeed have large mazes – outdoors and in,” Prunella nodded. “He loved puzzles and riddles, and parties and galas where hide-n-seek was one of the major "events".”
in“Didn"t he jump off a bell tower?”
“I believe he flew.” She twittered again. “He thought he could fly like an eagle.”
flew“Or a vulture,” Linda said flatly. “Loopy was right.”
Rey agreed. “Now, how about we check out the property? I"m in.”
“That"ll kill three hours if we"re lucky,” Linda murmured. “Okay, I"m in, too.”
“Great. We can hunt for clues while we"re at it.”
“Clues?” Percival.
“To who and what killed Thomas Saturne.”
“We"re back to that, are we?” Jensen.
Rey sniffed. “Someone offed him. Who agrees? Hands up!”
Linda and I exchanged glances and raised ours. Jensen"s remained on his cup, Percival"s on his fork, May-Lee"s on the table, and Adwin"s under his chin. Prunella"s partially raised limp hand resembled a spent tulip drooping in a breezeless, arid afternoon.
“My dear, you do realize that by suggesting murder you"re also suggesting that one of us is the killer.” Jensen"s smile was a cross between sour and smug.
murderusPrunella"s hand flopped. “I don"t think I like that.”
“It could be one of the servants,” Rey pointed out, “or someone hidden away in the house. I never meant to imply it was one of us.”
Cousin Reynalda had never been one to think things through.
“I think I like that even less.” Prunella gazed worriedly at her brother and picked nervously at the pendant. “Good Lord, what if she"s right? What if it"s one of the servants? Who"s to say we won"t be poisoned next? Or even worse maybe, what if there"s a lunatic lurking in the cellar or leering through a wall?”
“Listen, if Thomas Saturne was murdered, and that"s a big "if", he was killed by someone who had specifically targeted him.” Adwin"s voice was as silky as one of his double cream puddings and he took her hand as gently as if it were a Grand Marnier souffle. “If his killer is sitting here, he or she had personal grounds for doing the man in. If the killer is someone outside this little group, he or she has got to be long gone. Look, no one else has been killed. No one"s been threatened, have they?”
outsideWe all shook our heads.
“Then let"s not get panicky. We don"t even know for sure that it was murder, do we?
We"re getting overly theatrical,” he gazed sternly at Rey, “and assuming the most sensational scenario possible. The man had a rash. He more than likely had an allergic reaction to something he ate or something he came in contact with. Maybe it took a while to get into his system before it killed him. Or he had a simple heart attack. Unless the police tell us differently, let"s not assume things. Now, we"ve got a few more days here. Let"s simply go with the flow.” My beau"s smile was as serene as his tone. The apprehension that had started to cloak the breakfast party like a heavy cerement began to lift.
“Let"s confirm you"re right,” Rey challenged, suddenly bright-eyed and awake. “Let"s check out his room and belongings –”
“The police already did that,” Prunella pointed out.
“They checked out what they believed belonged to a man who"d died of natural causes, not someone they believed had met foul play.” Good old melodramatic Rey.
But she had a point. Maybe they"d not been as thorough as they might have been had Thomas Saturne received a bullet or dagger between those eerily darksome eyes.
“What can it hurt?” I asked, draining my tea and standing. “It might be fun – like one of those Aunt Mat"s dinner-mystery weekends I"ve heard so much about.”
“She did have spectacular ones,” Percival nodded, smiling in recollection. “The one with the captain and the mermaid – ah, well, yes.” He cleared his throat and stood. “I"m in!”
And one by one we filed upstairs.
- Writer
