Миранда Джеймс - Fixing To Die

“Alesha Jackson,” An’gel said. “Was the light on both ways? That is, when you went to the room and then when you went downstairs?”

“When I went to the room, I’m sure it was,” Henry Howard said. “But I can’t remember whether it was on the way back.”

“Of course, having a light on in the room doesn’t mean she was in there,” An’gel said, more to herself than to Henry Howard.

“No, guests go out all the time and leave lights burning,” Henry Howard said.

“While you were in the library, could you hear anyone moving about the house?”

“No,” Henry Howard said. “I closed the door to keep the light from shining into the hall, and that cuts off a lot of sound.”

“What bedroom is over the library?” An’gel said. “Isn’t it the room Alesha Jackson is in?”

“Yes, you’re right,” Henry Howard said. “So I guess you want to know if I heard anything overhead.”

An’gel nodded.

He shook his head. “Not that I recall.”

An’gel couldn’t think of another question for him. Now came the hard part—persuading him to tell his story to Lieutenant Steinberg.

“Lieutenant Steinberg needs to hear all this,” An’gel said. “He doesn’t know about the secret panel, and he will want his people to examine it. You say no one else knows about it, but you can’t be completely certain. If someone else did use it to get into the French room to murder Nathan Gamble, then there could be evidence, as long as you didn’t destroy it when you went through the panel, that is.”

Henry Howard appeared dazed by the flood of words. Then his face cleared. “I know you’re right, but I don’t look forward to telling him. What if he thinks I killed Nathan Gamble?” Now he started to look panicky.

“There’s a possibility he could think you’re the killer,” An’gel said. “But my impression of him is that he’s tough and a stickler for doing things right. That includes arresting the right person. Dickce and I will stand behind you, and I’m sure Mary Turner will, too.”

“Thank you,” Henry Howard said. “I hope you’re right about my wife. When she gets as angry as she did when I told her what I’d done, it can take her a long time to cool down, and she’s not always reasonable again until she does.”

“She’ll come around,” An’gel said. “Don’t you worry.” Because I’ll see that she does , she added silently.

“I guess I’d better get in touch with the lieutenant,” Henry Howard said.

“Yes, but before you do, I thought of one more question,” An’gel said with a quick smile. “Just to satisfy my curiosity. What kind of mask were you wearing? I want to know what you thought may frighten me.”

“It wasn’t anything horrible, like a demon or a monster,” Henry Howard said. “It’s a woman’s face that is made up to look like an otherworldly spirit. With a little light shining on it, it’s creepy looking, I think.”

“That might have spooked me a little,” An’gel said. “But it would never have been enough to achieve your purpose.”

“I realize that now,” Henry Howard said. “I hope you’ll forgive me, Miss An’gel.”

“I already have,” she said. “Now go make that phone call.”

Henry Howard rose. “I will, but will you talk to Mary Turner for me?”

“Yes,” An’gel said. “I’ll go look for her now.” She sat for a moment longer, until Henry Howard had left the room. She wasn’t sure exactly what she was going to say to Mary Turner in defense of Henry Howard. Perhaps the best strategy was simply to let Mary Turner talk to her, encourage her to let go of everything. She got to her feet. The kitchen was the first place to look, she decided, and she headed there.

Only Marcelline was in the kitchen, An’gel discovered. Upon being questioned about Mary Turner’s whereabouts, Marcelline shook her head. “I’m not sure, Miss An’gel. I know she was planning to talk to Serenity, but that was before she found out about Mr. Henry acting like he was a ghost. She was so upset, she might have gone somewhere to cool off.”

An’gel said, “Thank you. I might try Mrs. Foster’s room, at least to start. Do you know which one she’s in?”

“Room four,” Marcelline said. “Toward the end away from the house.”

“One more question,” An’gel said. “Do you know where my sister went?”

“We just finished talking a few minutes ago,” Marcelline replied. “I believe she said she was going to look for Benjy.”

“All right. Thank you again.” An’gel wondered if Dickce had gleaned any useful information from the housekeeper. She checked her watch. She still had about twenty minutes before she was due to meet Alesha Jackson. She might as well see if she could find either Mary Turner or Dickce.

An’gel stepped out the back door into the courtyard. The afternoon was cool, and this side of the house was increasingly in shadow as the sun moved lower in the sky on the other, western-facing side. She walked across the courtyard toward the annex, found Serenity Foster’s room, and knocked.

After a moment, Serenity opened the door. An’gel looked past her and saw Mary Turner seated on a chair, her face turned away from the door and her shoulders slumped.

“What do you want?” Serenity asked, her tone verging on hostile.

“I’m looking for Mary Turner,” An’gel said. “I need to speak to her about something.”

Serenity turned to face Mary Turner. “You might as well leave and go talk to her. I don’t have anything more to say to you.”

As An’gel watched, Mary Turner rose from the chair. An’gel could see she had been crying.

Mary Turner stumbled toward the door. Serenity moved aside, but as Mary Turner reached the threshold, she paused and stared hard at her cousin.

“This isn’t the end of it,” Mary Turner said. “I’ll find a way to get the money. You’re not going to take anything away from me.”

Serenity pushed her out and slammed the door. Mary Turner lurched toward An’gel involuntarily but managed to stop herself before knocking into the older woman.

An’gel put out a hand to steady her. “What on earth was going on between you two? You look like you’ve had terrible news.”

Mary Turner nodded. “It is, the worst news possible. I thought she might be easier to deal with than Nathan was, but I was wrong. She’s even worse than he ever dared to be.” She burst into tears, and An’gel, after a momentary hesitation, drew her away from the door and put her arms around the troubled young woman.

“Whatever it is,” An’gel said, “I will help you sort it out. Do you feel like telling me what’s happened?”

Mary Turner pulled away after a moment and looked at An’gel, a glimmer of hope in her eyes. “Yes, please. Let’s go in the kitchen, though.”

“Is it something you can talk about in front of Marcelline?” An’gel asked as they started to walk toward the back door.

“Oh, yes, she already knows about it,” Mary Turner said. “She was actually with me when I got the news from Nathan himself last night.”

“When was that?” An’gel asked. “I didn’t realize you had talked to him last night.”

Mary Turner nodded. “He came down to the kitchen about nine thirty last night, I think it was. Marcelline and I were there, talking about things. We often do. Anyway, Nathan asked for a glass of hot milk. Marcelline said she wasn’t about to do it. She really loathed him, you know. Well, Nathan got mad, and they started arguing. I tried to stop it, but they wouldn’t pay any attention to me. Then finally Nathan said something that stopped Marcelline in her tracks.”

They had reached the back door, and Mary Turner stood with her hand on the knob. She had paled suddenly, to An’gel’s alarm. Before she could express concern, however, Mary Turner continued in a rush.