“Ruby….” said Fina, now sitting comfortably in front of the fireplace in Ruby’s room.
“Mmm, yes, Feens?” she said, busily scribbling away in her notebook.
“I was just in the library and Charlotte was acting rather oddly.”
“Odd in what way?”
Scratching her head, she said, “Her dress was askew. Now that wouldn’t be out of the norm for most of us, but for perfect Charlotte? And she had come out of the study looking rather sheepish, as if I had caught her in a rather sticky situation.”
“Superior sleuthing skills, my friend,” said Ruby glancing up from the page. “I’ve just made note of her behaviour in my little notebook.”
“While we’re on the subject of things that don’t quite fit, I’ve just been thinking about the photograph in Edgar’s room yesterday. It was of Edgar and his mother – I presume it was his mother. They both looked very happy. The reason I noticed it – besides the look of joy on their faces, was that there was something odd about it. Not the photo… but the placement of it. It was the only photo in the room and you definitely noticed it,” said Fina, with a vacant look. When Fina had first met Ruby, she had had to tell her that her frozen-squirrel-stare was the result of accelerated brain activity.
“What’s odd about a family photo on a desk?” asked Ruby. “I mean, the Earl, Countess and Sykes-Duckworths don’t strike me as particularly affectionate when it comes to family – but that’s no different than the rest of the English aristocracy,” she said, ending in an acid tone.
“Yes, that’s true – perhaps that’s just it. First of all, their open display of joy was remarkable precisely because they’re reserved when it comes to affection. It was also located in an odd place. Not by the bedside table – as many photos are in bedrooms. It was almost as if it were positioned as some sort of altar or shrine,” said Fina.
“Well, we did learn from the cook that their mother died young, correct? It’s not surprising, then, that he would have some sort of altar-esque setup. But the fact that you noticed it means something, Fina. Let’s write it down,” she said, doing just that with an efficient scribble in her notebook.
“By the way,” said Fina, remembering her confusion after lunch, “why did you say you wanted to take a nap? You left me all alone in there!”
“Oh, of course. I’m so sorry. I remembered a spot in my room where I thought the poison could be, so I wanted to hurry back to search – and I didn’t have time to tell you why. I was unsuccessful, obviously. I figured you could continue sleuthing without me, which you obviously did quite well!”
Looking contrite, Ruby rose from the bed and rummaged around in her bag. She held up a small box in triumph. Grinning, she removed the top, ran it under her nose so she could smell it lightly, and then held it out to Fina.
Fina gasped with delight. “Fuller’s chocolates! You’ve been holding out on me!” she said with a laugh, instantly feeling the mood lighten. Nestled in lavender papers, each individual chocolate gleamed like pirates’ treasure, thought Fina. There were few things in life that made her happier than a box of Fuller’s chocolates.
“Mhhh…” said Ruby, sinking her teeth into one of the soft chunks. Shifting the papers aside with her fingers, Fina finally settled on the selection of a perfect sphere sprinkled with nuts.
“That’s much better,” pronounced Fina. “Now I will be able to concentrate. Right. Shall we start with opportunity?”
Ruby nodded. “Yes, though we still have the problem of the missing poison. I suppose we’ll have to assume it was in either the snifter or the cocoa cup for now.”
“So we’re left with Edgar, possibly Cyril – if he was able to put something in the snifter just before he left. As for the cocoa, it could be Julia, Ian, the cook, Charles, Grimston and any of the staff.”
“Yes – and don’t forget ourselves,” winked Ruby.
“Yes, of course. Another reason we have to solve this mystery as soon as possible,” said Fina, scribbling away in the notebook. Something nagged at her about the poison. Study… snifter… opportunity.
“What is it, Fina? Did you remember something important?” asked Ruby.
“It’s probably nothing, but it was peculiar. Remember when we were in the study – searching for the papers – I noticed a large wet spot on the carpet next to the French windows? It was odd because it was recent and quite large,” said Fina.
Ruby leaned forward, swallowing her second chocolate – not that Fina was counting, of course. “I do remember – we thought it might be from the snow.”
“Yes,” said Fina, absently. “Do you think someone poured out a snifter of brandy in a rush? Maybe they couldn’t dispose of it anywhere else. In normal weather you could simply open the windows and chuck it out, but not now,” she said, shivering as she glanced at the window.
“Yes… Perhaps our murderer needed to dispose of the brandy.”
“Which brandy – the poison snifter or one just normal brandy?” asked Fina.
“Assuming the poison was oxalic acid, I know from my own use of it that it does not dissolve quickly. You need to stir it up a bit. That means that if you were going to slip poison into a brandy snifter, you’d have to prepare it beforehand, and it would need to dissolve in at least a half of a brandy snifter of liquid. Even if you had a flask prepared beforehand that you could pour into unsuspecting Granville’s glass when he wasn’t looking, you’d still need to dispose of the original brandy somehow because it would be too obvious that the glass was suddenly full,” said Ruby, moving full speed ahead.
“Yes, unless you could count on Granville being blotto and therefore in no condition to notice,” said Fina.
“That’s true, but you couldn’t plan on that for sure. This was a premeditated murder – or at least premeditated in the sense that it wasn’t a split-second reaction. It had to have been planned out at least an hour or so in advance. More or less between the time I made the announcement over cocktails about the stain remover and then when he was slipped the poison,” said Ruby.
“Couldn’t the murderer just put the poison in their own glass and then switch it with Granville’s glass?” asked Fina.
“Good point, but the problem is what happens if you are forced to a toast before you’re able to make the switch? Too risky. See how this strikes you: the murderer, holding a snifter, makes some excuse to leave the study, because he or she wouldn’t be able to empty the flask into anyone’s glass – including his or her own – without being seen. They search for a place to discard the ordinary brandy. The best they can do is that mat by the door in another room, knowing that it will likely dry by the morning. Besides, since it’s near a door, no one will think twice about it. Then they open the flask, empty it into the snifter and then return to the study, where they make a quick switch with Granville’s snifter.” She pursed her lips, mulling over her own story, moving her eyes from side to side.
“But why not just chuck the lot into the fireplace?” asked Fina. “It would be harder to detect.”
“Perhaps, but since we know there wasn’t a fire in the study in the evening, it would flare up the next time someone lit a fire. Maybe it would rouse suspicion. I don’t know, Feens… it’s also odd because I doubt the rug would stay wet overnight from just a glassful of brandy.”
“Good point. Regardless of that spot on the rug, though, we still have a good theory running about the vehicle for the poison. So for my notes – assuming the poison was put in the brandy rather than the cocoa, that means the murder had to be either Cyril or Edgar since they were the only ones who were around to put the poison in the flask. At least in terms of the time of the murder,” said Fina, head bent as she scribbled furiously. They had traded the role of note-taking scribe.
“Cyril or Edgar. I suppose so, even though I am unsatisfied with the plausibility of the story,” Ruby said, shrugging her shoulders as she continued. “Now we come to the cocoa. If it were the cocoa, then our suspects are Ian and Julia, correct? We can eliminate the staff for now unless Charles tells us otherwise.”
“So that means our suspect list is Cyril, Edgar, Julia and Ian. It still doesn’t seem quite right, but let’s review the clues we have thus far,” said Fina. “There’s the papers I found in Edgar’s room, which suggest Lavington’s were planning some sort of corporate raid on their competition. That may implicate Gayatri and Sajida’s family.”
“Possibly,” said Ruby, tapping her teeth. “Then there’s the question of what happens to Pauncefort after Lord Malvern dies. I’ve heard he’s not too well.”
“That gives all of the family a motive, though most likely the Earl and Countess. I cannot imagine them murdering anyone, much less their own relative.”
“I cannot really imagine any of them doing it, but don’t forget that Granville himself was a murderer, even if he didn’t pull the trigger himself,” said Ruby softly.
“That’s so true,” said Fina, letting the moment sit in silence. “What about that flare up between Julia, Ian and Gayatri last night in the saloon? Remember the looks they gave one another? What about a love triangle angle?” Fina stopped, remembering the chummy atmosphere between the three of them in the saloon. “They seemed to have patched it up this afternoon, though. They were enjoying playing cards – just the three of them.”
“Hmm… it could have seemed more serious than it really was last night – remember we’re dealing with theatrical types. I also know Julia finds anything that moves attractive, so that means we could have a many pointed star rather than a simple triangle,” said Ruby, eyes twinkling.
“Speaking of that, did you notice how red Leslie’s eyes were at lunch today? He seems to be the only one who really mourned Granville at all. And I must say they were very close…”
“You’re thinking how close, aren’t you? Well, it’s certainly plausible. I feel like someone did hint at it yesterday, though I cannot remember when,” said Fina. She flounced back on the bed in exhaustion. Looking up at the ceiling, she said, “Yes, if that’s true, though, why would he kill his lover? Seems like he’d be more likely to kill someone else vying for his attention.”
“I suppose, but it could have been out of jealousy, or fear of someone discovering the truth… Oh Fina, we’re in the soup. We have a list of suspects, but it’s all still so vague. I hope the snow stops soon – but please, dear Lord, not before we find the killer.”