Moxie Maisie flung open her suitcase. So far, so good. She hadn’t discovered me.
I tried to breathe in a shallow manner, but that only served to make me panic and gasp for breath.
It seemed luck was with me. Moxie Maisie was muttering loudly to herself about how stupid the detectives were and what shocking taste in clothes they possessed. She flung some clothes on the floor and then said, “Aha!”
She turned on her heel and hurried from the room, slamming the bedroom door behind her.
I stayed there for a while, shaking. I had seen too many horror movies where people think somebody has left and then leave their hiding place, only to find the perpetrator is waiting for them.
After what seemed an age but was probably only a few minutes, I crawled out from under the bed and stood upright. I crept to the door and opened it a crack before opening it fully and stepping into the living room of the cottage.
I looked around me. There was no sign of Moxie Maisie, only wallpaper made to look like bookshelves to my left, and to my right, wooden bookshelves covered with the aunts’ old books.
I peeked behind the curtains, but there was no sign of anybody. I carefully opened the front door, quietly closed it behind me, and used my vampire speed to run back to the kitchen door. Still shaking, I opened it and stepped inside. Nobody was around, but I could hear people speaking in the dining room. Rather, I could hear Aunt Dorothy telling one of her favourite tales.
I bit back a smile and made my way to the secret room.
“Did you manage to get the photos?” Aunt Agnes asked me by way of greeting.
I waved my phone at her. “I hope so. She had plenty of diaries.”
Aunt Agnes nodded. “I can see that. She just handed the detectives a stack of them. Did you find anything of use?”
I shrugged. “I didn’t have much time. I did find a diary that listed people who didn’t like Priscilla.”
Aunt Agnes tapped the screen. “Look, they’re questioning Demelza now.”
Demelza walked into the room, wringing her hands. The detectives wasted no time coming to the point.
“Where were you when your mother was murdered?” Detective Oakes asked, once Demelza had taken her seat on the chaise.
“I was in the bedroom,” she said. “It had been a long, tiring day. I was hoping to get a good night’s sleep.”
“Tell us the events of the evening,” Oakes said.
“I was drifting off to sleep when I heard Frances scream. I got out of bed and ran to his cottage, but he wasn’t there, so then I realised he would be in Mother’s cottage.”
“And why is that?” Mason asked her.
“Because the two of them were in a relationship,” Demelza said.
Oakes nodded to her. “Go on.”
“That’s about it, really. That man, Lucas, ran in and checked Mother’s pulse and told us she was dead. After he left, Eli, my ex-husband, came in. He said he’d go get his phone and call the police. That’s all. I was comforting Frances.”
“Did you see anybody else around, somebody you didn’t know?” Detective Oakes asked.
Demelza shook her head. “No.”
“Did you see anybody else at all, your daughter, your ex-husband, or Mr Fletcher?”
Again, she shook her head. “No.”
Detective Oakes scratched his chin. “And were you aware that your daughter was in a relationship with Finn Fletcher?”
Demelza nodded.
“And how do you feel about that?”
She shrugged. “Eli and I aren’t too happy about it, because we’re concerned that he might be after her money.”
“Your daughter is wealthy?”
Demelza chuckled. “No, not at all, but she is supposed to inherit all Mother’s fortune. Also, Mother did spoil her horribly for years.”
“And if you don’t mind me asking, why wouldn’t you inherit?” Detective Mason asked her.
Demelza sighed. “My mother was very glamorous. She always resented me for being plain and not interested in fashion or even make-up. She was quite resentful when I married Eli, as she said he was in a boring profession.”
“And what profession is that?” Oakes asked.
“He’s an assistant lecturer in etymology, with a research interest in ants,” Demelza said. “In fact, he’s very fond of ants.”
Detective Oakes rubbed his ears. “I’m sorry. I don’t think I heard you correctly. What did you say he had a research interest in?”
Demelza made a scurrying motion with her fingers. “Ants. You know, insects. Eli is very passionate about ants.”
“I see,” Oakes said, although it was quite apparent that he didn’t.
Demelza nodded. “That’s why Mother liked to dress in that peacock coat, to annoy him.”
Oakes took a long breath and let it out slowly. “I’m sorry, but I don’t see the connection. Would you kindly spell it out for me?” His tone was wearied.
“Peacocks eat ants,” Demelza explained. “That’s why she always wore that peacock coat, to annoy Eli.”
“But why didn’t she dress as an anteater?” Detective Mason asked.
“Mother was terribly glamorous,” Demelza said. “She could hardly dress as an anteater. Have you ever seen a glamorous anteater?”
Oakes sighed again. “I must say, I haven’t. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever seen an anteater. Do they live in Australia?”
Mason piped up. “Echidnas do, of course,” he said. “Live in Australia, I mean. I don’t know if they eat ants, but I can’t see any reason why they wouldn’t. They look like anteaters.”
“Echidnas aren’t glamorous either,” Demelza said, “and they are covered in those spiky looking things.”
Detective Oakes held up one hand, palm outwards. “All right, I think we have discussed fashion and ants at sufficient length for now. Your mother and your ex-husband didn’t get along?”
Demelza shook her head vigorously. “Oh no, they hated each other. That’s the reason my marriage broke up. Mother was furious that Eli wasn’t wealthy.”
“But lecturers make good money, don’t they?” Oakes asked.
“He’s an assistant lecturer,” she said. “Most people have been promoted to senior lecturer by his age. Besides, Mother was very wealthy, and Eli’s wage was nowhere near good enough for her. Mother said she would never put me back in her will if I married him. And she was as good as her word. I hadn’t heard from her for years until Moxie Maisie was a teenager, and then she turned nasty again when I married Eli.” She stopped speaking and sighed long and hard.
“And what prompted the reconciliation?” Detective Mason asked her.
Demelza shrugged. “It was when Moxie Maisie was thirteen. She was in a national singing competition. Mother saw her on TV and contacted me.”
“Did Moxie Maisie win the competition?” Mason asked her.
Demelza shook her head. “No, but apparently she looked sufficiently glamorous for Mother to take an interest in her. That’s when Mother came back into our lives.”
“That will be all for now, but we will need to speak with you again in the near future,” Detective Mason said. “The forensics team will be here any minute and will attend to your mother. We will inform you when the body will be released.”
Demelza burst into tears.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Detective Oakes said.
Demelza stopped crying and stood up. “Can I go now?”
“Yes, and would you send Eli Miles in? I’ll ask you and your family not to leave town until we tell you that you can.”
Demelza nodded and headed out the door.
I turned to Aunt Agnes. “I thought they only said not to leave town in movies.”
Agnes shrugged. “Eli has a motive too.”
“What, just because he didn’t get on with Priscilla?” I asked. “Is that enough motive for murder?”
“We will have to find out more,” Aunt Agnes said, “but for now, they are all suspects.”
“Surely, Colonel Mustard did it,” I said. “He was standing over the body holding a candlestick.”
Aunt Agnes shrugged. “But would anybody be so silly? He screamed, which brought everyone running to the cottage, and Lucas found him holding the candlestick. What murderer in their right mind would do that?”
“Maybe he isn’t in his right mind,” I offered. “Or maybe he screamed and held the candlestick to fool everybody, as everybody would think the murderer wouldn’t do that.”
Aunt Agnes rubbed her temples. “I don’t know. I hope there isn’t more to it.”
“Like The Other?”
“I don’t think they’re involved, but we can’t discount anything.”
“Lucas is worried that the new boarders might be shifters or vampires,” I told her.
Aunt Agnes laughed. “Because the women aren’t throwing themselves at him?”
I chuckled too. “Yes, and most women do.”
Aunt Agnes laid a hand on my arm. “Here comes Eli.”
Eli sat on the chaise and folded his arms. Detective Oakes opened his mouth to speak, but Eli beat him to it.
“I know who the murderer is!” he said.