Monday 26th September – 3.30 p.m.
Through the swinging doors of the A&E department, Nell and Maeve watched Sean being transferred to a gurney and wheeled away as the porter brought Rav’s wheelchair back. Nell took it, with a thank you, then walked back to the café with Maeve, their steps heavy.
Maeve sank into the nearest chair, her head in her hands, sobbing.
‘Maeve, it’s OK, there’s treatment, it will most likely be totally successful.’
‘But I … I can’t … I can’t believe it …’
‘What, that someone would poison Sean?’
Nell had to admit, it seemed odd to her, too. What haven’t I noticed? ‘My money would have been on Brandon.’
Maeve could only reply with an anguished sob.
Nell realised that Baptiste was watching them with too much interest. She brought Maeve some water, then took the wheelchair back to Rav, whispering, ‘Any theories?’
‘A few. But I also have coffee.’ He slid it towards her like it was an illicit elixir, and she couldn’t resist, wrapping her fingers round the tall paper cup. ‘The nurse saw me give up my wheelchair and brought over a spare. But I can return it now.’
As Rav heaved himself into his own chair, he said, ‘James asked me to send the footage of the chicken coop. I’m guessing he wants to check what Sean said he was doing. Seems a bit pointless now. But I’ve sent it anyway.’
‘Let’s see?’ Nell asked, between long gulps of caffeine.
She watched the thermal images on the phone as two bodies worked together to repair the hen house. They blazed from yellow-green to orange as they worked, then walked towards the barn, out of shot.
‘The time adds up,’ Rav said. ‘This was a few minutes before we began gathering for drinks.’
‘Now we know Sean was poisoned, there can’t be anything to gain from this?’
Rav glanced around the room, then leaned in. ‘Yeah, but he didn’t drink the coffee from his own mug. Brandon did. So he—’
‘He drank the coffee intended for Brandon? The sugared one?’ Nell gaped.
‘Good poker face there.’
Nell closed her mouth and glanced around guiltily. ‘How did that happen?’
‘Brandon goaded Sean, and then downed the coffee in his mug.’
‘Which would have forced Sean to drink Brandon’s – the cup that had been poisoned. So was that some double bluff from Brandon? Poisoning Sean but making it look like he – Brandon – was the intended victim?’
‘Yeah, maybe. I’ve been racking my brains about that. But doing Sean in wouldn’t serve any purpose, would it? Except to stop forcing everyone to be civil to each other. Why would someone take the risk to harm him? ’
‘His disagreement with Maeve? Tensions have been high.’
‘Yeah, but she’s already proved that if she was unhappy with him, she’d just break up with him. And it’s clearly her, with Sean, on our footage.’
‘Could this be about revenge, then?’
‘What for, though? Sean seems too clean-living for that.’
‘OK,’ Nell conceded, ‘what about the farm? Brandon is definitely a little bitter that he didn’t inherit.’ She shot a glance at Brandon, who was tugging his shirt collar. He’d changed his clothes since the wake.
‘Do you think Finn wanted to harm Sean? He could have whispered in his ear that using Sean’s mug might annoy him?’
‘That’s probably Finn’s style,’ Nell concurred. ‘But why? Sean is Finn’s alibi, when Siobhan went missing.’ She thought for a moment. ‘You make a good point though. Let’s say the poisoner’s target was Sean, intending the mug swap to throw us off that scent. What motives would people have to poison him? What if Finn wanted the farm? And thought it was unfair Sean got everything?’
Nell’s eyes strayed to Shannon, who was in animated conversation with James, making her think about the missing painting.
Catching her eye, James moved over to their table, with Shannon following.
‘We’re talking motives,’ Nell explained discreetly – and unnecessarily. ‘What if Finn needed money? What if he knew the missing painting could be worth twenty grand, so he took advantage of all the upheaval over Siobhan as the ideal cover to steal it and sell it?’ She lowered her voice and leaned forward. ‘And what if Sean realised, so Finn poisoned him?’
Rav nodded slowly. ‘Finn’s giving the impression of doing well financially. But he didn’t seem able to help his parents with a contractor’s bill. That feeble story about his bank probably blocking a transaction, when it would take one phone call to address that … Maybe he does have some financial issues?’
‘He’s not alone, though,’ James added. ‘Brandon and Sean couldn’t help, either. And they’d all know the place well enough to find the rat poison.’
‘So might Maeve. What about her needing money?’ Nell asked.
‘Her distillery is doing well, though,’ James said.
‘Sure, but limited-edition special batches are a risky business,’ Nell countered. ‘Time-intensive, difficult to find efficiencies. Finite profit margin. And varying their recipes might be a novelty but it may mean they struggle to develop a loyal customer base.’
‘Yeah, but even if any of those theories are true, I don’t think she’d hurt Sean,’ Rav said.
‘And I don’t think she had time to do anything with that painting,’ Shannon added. ‘I saw that picture on the wall before we went to Siobhan’s grave. Everyone stayed there until it was dark. It was gone by the next afternoon, so it must have been taken on Sunday. All Maeve had done in that time was travel between the grave, the farmhouse and her parents’ place.’
‘So that would only leave Brandon, Sean or Finn to have an opportunity to take it,’ Rav said.
Nell was glad Conor would be off this list, at least. ‘Brandon?’
‘Why, though?’ Rav mused. ‘Maybe he thinks that Sean got what he was entitled to, the farm, and he wants something of value for himself? Perhaps he waited until the other brothers were here, so they’d be suspected too? Or he may know something—’
Nell’s eyes widened as a tangent seized her thoughts. ‘Oh, God. What if Sean was poisoned because he knows something?’
‘Like what?’
Dredging ideas, Nell’s stomach churned as a treacherous idea struck. What if Sean knew that Conor and Siobhan were going to leave together? She didn’t dare voice the question, not here; it would be too indiscreet.
‘Well, that might have been a problem at the time, but why would it be an issue now?’ Rav asked.
Shaking her head, Nell scratched around for inspiration. ‘Oh jeez, you just said it. Sean is Finn’s alibi. What if Finn knew that our people pleaser Sean might cope with flexing the truth for a disappearance but …’
‘… But now that the questioning would be a bit hotter – for a murder – are we thinking that, what, Sean would buckle?’ Rav ran with the theory. ‘Give up Finn’s alibi?’
Nodding at the idea, James asked, ‘Did you get any sense of the person who manhandled you into the larder?’
‘Honestly, nothing. I’m trying to recall any smells, body size, strength. It was totally overwhelming. And with the glove over my face, I didn’t get anything other than leather and woodsmoke.’
‘Doesn’t narrow it down much,’ Shannon complained.
‘Do you recall anything about the tray of coffees?’ Nell asked. ‘Were they marked in any way?’
‘No more than usual,’ Rav said. ‘With the teaspoon showing which one had sugar.’
Nell nodded. ‘OK, so then let’s think about who might have wanted to do Brandon in.’
James frowned. ‘They did swap mugs, then?’ He heaved a sigh. ‘Well, now our list has just exploded from too few suspects, to just about everyone.’
‘Maeve?’ Nell suggested.
Shannon nodded. ‘If she could kill with a look, he’d have died a million times by now.’
‘Finn, after last night?’ Rav said. ‘Seems like he was bearing the brunt of someone else’s affair. He doesn’t seem able to stand up to Brandon. So he definitely has motive.’
Nell frowned, thinking. ‘Yes. And, for that matter, Sean. If he believed Siobhan was unhappy and Brandon killed her for trying to leave, then I could see Sean avenging her.’ She scrunched her nose. ‘But not then drinking the wrong one, surely.’
Nell cast a furtive look around the company.
If Maeve had poisoned her fiancé instead of Brandon, she’d be devastated. And Maeve, still weeping, looked beside herself with torment. Exactly as Nell thought she would.
And if Finn had intended to kill Brandon and instead had accidentally poisoned Sean, he’d look like the bag of nerves he currently was, as he paced the room, staring at the clock with genuine concern.
But, if he’d wanted Sean dead, Finn would be really worried. Because now Sean will get life-saving treatment. So any secrets he feared Sean might give away, could still come to light.
Rejoining Nessa and Sergeant Baptiste, James beckoned Brandon to sit with them.
‘We didn’t conclude our chat,’ James said. ‘You were telling us where you’d gone before everyone gathered for coffee.’
‘Pretty sure I wasn’t,’ Brandon rebutted, his huffs whistling air through the gap from his missing teeth and making the dressings on his face rustle.
‘You don’t want to help us find out who harmed your brother?’ Baptiste asked. ‘Thought he was the only one you got along with.’
‘He’s the one that brings me all the problems. Everyone else has the good sense to leave me alone. He always wants to interfere and play happy families.’
‘Oh. Was that reason enough to try to silence him?’ Baptiste asked, his tone unexpectedly pointed.
Brandon gave a sarcastic laugh. ‘Oh, you too, now, is it? Making me suspect number one. I knew they’d all get to you with their theories.’
‘You know me, Brandon. I’ll draw conclusions from evidence. But I do need you to give me some answers.’
‘Good luck with that.’ Brandon folded his arms.
James leaned forward. ‘I think you want us to know where you were. I think it has a bearing on the case. Maybe one that puts you in the clear.’
Brandon’s head jerked up. He fixed James with a stare.
‘Have you played the victim so long, you don’t know how to act if you can prove you’re not one?’
‘You bloody English snob—’
‘So I’m right,’ James said. ‘So go on. The plaster’s ripped off now. Show us the bruise.’
Still Brandon said nothing. But he reached into his pocket and pulled out a long leather bracelet and slammed it onto the table.
Across the room, James grew aware of Nell watching, rising from her seat, tiptoeing over.
‘What are we looking at here, Brandon?’ Nessa asked.
‘This is one of those damn-fool bracelets Siobhan made for all of us. This one’s mine.’ He nearly spat with contempt. ‘I shoulda thrown it out years ago. Don’t know why I didn’t. I guess it … it reminded me of before. When everything was ahead of us.’
He smoothed it out, and James saw the intricate braids, the shimmering colours, the love that had once been poured into it.
Maeve saw Nell approaching James and frowned. Seeing Brandon in the hot seat, she leaped to her feet and joined Nell.
‘What is that, Brandon?’ Maeve asked. Her voice was low, unsteady.
‘I think you know.’ Brandon turned to her. ‘You said you knew for a fact that Siobhan grabbed the bracelet off whoever killed her. You were quite clear you thought it was me. But here’s mine, clear as day. Satisfied? ’
As Maeve crumpled onto a seat, gasping for air like she suddenly couldn’t breathe, James wondered why Nell and Rav exchanged such a significant look.
‘So, who’s the one who can’t produce the bracelet?’ Brandon’s shrug became an accusing finger, pointing straight at Conor.