Death of a Mad Hatter (A Hat Shop Mystery) (22 page)

“George!” I cried. “Am I glad to see you.”

He ignored me and looked at Dotty.

“Gram, what are you doing with her?” he asked. He reached out and snatched the towel off of my head then he looked at me. “Gram doesn’t like redheads, but I’ve always been rather partial to them.”

He smiled at me and for the first time I noted that there was no warmth in his smile. In fact, it chilled me to the bone. I felt Dotty recoil from me as soon as my hair was revealed, but I refused to let go of her hand until I knew what was happening.

Abruptly, I remembered my conversation with Harrison and Viv, about how George had tried to keep Cara from being arrested, and George’s comment when we first met about how he liked redheads. I had thought he was flattering me, but what if I wasn’t the redhead to whom he’d been referring?

“You like redheads. You studied in Italy,” I said. “You—”

I stumbled. I wasn’t sure how to put into words what I suspected.

“Had an affair with my grandfather’s mistress?” he asked. “Yes, yes, I did.”

“George!” Dotty cried. “How could you?”

“What can I say, Gram?” he asked. He spread his hands wide. “I can see why Gramps left you for her. She is glorious.”

Dotty sucked in a breath and I knew George had just scored a direct hit.

“We had a bond, you see,” George said. “She knew that Gramps was going to leave her nothing, not even the villa that had been her home for thirty years, and I knew that Geoffrey was never going to be man enough to impregnate his pretty young wife. Turned out I was wrong about that.”

He made a mock alarmed look that reminded me of the George I’d known before and would have made me laugh if I weren’t scared out of my wits.

“So after Gramps died, we took care of Geoffrey. Gram helped.” He reached forward and cupped her chin. “It felt good plotting the murder of the man who had done you wrong all those years ago, didn’t it, Gram?”

She whimpered and tried to pull her chin out of his hold.

“Sadly, those shaky old hands of yours weren’t much help loading up Uncle Geoffrey’s bath products with poison, were they?” He clucked with disappointment and released her. “We had hoped to kill him slowly over time, but then Cara got impatient, so we decided to have him drink it on down. The tea party was an excellent opportunity.”

“But how could you get him to drink it?” I asked. “It smells horrible and it burns.”

“When you’re a germ-phobic nutter, dousing yourself in disinfectant all day, you build up an immunity to the astringent smell,” he said. “Besides, given the choice between being poisoned or shot, which would you choose?”

“Poison,” I said. My mouth was so dry it was hard to speak. “Because you might be able to get help in time.”

“Beautiful thing about formaldehyde,” George said. “It was easily acquired—thank you, Busker and Sons—and it’s corrosive. Poor Geoffrey thought he could call for help, but no, his throat swelled shut. After a few convulsions, his entire system shut down.”

“So it was you,” I said. “But why? You won’t even inherit.”

He shrugged.

“I’ve been managing Liam since the day I climbed out of the womb. He’s good looking, but there’s not much going on up here, if you know what I mean,” he said and he tapped his temple. “I assured Cara that once Liam inherited the estate, it would really be me taking charge. Everything was going so well until Tina turned up pregnant and befriended
you
.”

He said this as if it were inexplicable.

“You were the one who attacked me and my friend yesterday,” I said.

“That’s what snooping will get you,” he said. “Why couldn’t you just leave it alone?”

“Because Tina asked for my help,” I said.

“Oh please,” he scoffed. “She doesn’t need anyone’s help. She’s a gold digger of the first order. Do you really think she married Geoffrey, twenty years her senior and as neurotic as a squirrel, for love?”

“It’s been known to happen,” I said. “You don’t choose who you fall in love with.”

He studied me for a moment. I didn’t like the look in his hazel eyes. It was cold and predatory, and it made me shiver.

“Don’t mistake me, Scarlett,” he said. He reached forward and grabbed a lock of my hair. He twined it around his finger and pulled me close. My hand tightened on Dotty’s as if she could anchor me from the evil that was pulling me forward. “I was really looking forward to getting to know you.”

The innuendo in his words as he sniffed my hair made my stomach twist. I was so not letting him touch me. Ever.

I stomped on his foot. Hard. He yelped and I hit him in the chest with my elbow. Thankfully, he let go of my hair, but I wouldn’t have cared if he’d ripped it out by the roots. I was not staying here another second.

“Buckley!” I screamed. “Buckley, help!”

I began to run, dragging Dotty with me, and to my surprise, she came.

“He won’t be of any use to you,” George called as he hobbled after us.

It was ominous the way he said it, and now I was terrified for Buckley as well. I yanked Dotty out the door and down the hallway. We stepped into the ornate foyer when Cara Whittles rushed out from the hallway across from ours. In her well-manicured hand, which sparkled with jewel-encrusted rings, she held a lethal-looking gun, and it was pointed right at me.

“You!” Dotty cried. She yanked her hand out of mine and charged forward, heedless of the gun, looking like she was going to smack down the redheaded tart.

“Dotty!” I grabbed her hand and held her back. “She has a gun.”

“I’ll stuff it down her throat,” Dotty said.

Cara frowned as if she hadn’t quite expected Dotty to be so feisty. Her hand shook and I wondered how comfortable she was with this whole situation.

“Don’t shoot them here,” George said as he joined us. He sounded very matter-of-fact about us being shot. This did not give me the warm fuzzies, as you can imagine.

“If you shoot us at all, you’ll go to jail,” I said. I looked over the voluptuous woman in her skinny jeans and wedge sandals with a man’s dress shirt half buttoned over her purple bra. It appeared she and George had been enjoying a little alone time before I came along. “There are no beauty parlors in jail. No makeup, no jewelry, no spas.”

She visibly paled with every word I spoke. Oh yeah, I was getting her where she lived.

“George, make her stop!” Cara demanded. “I don’t want to hear her speak.”

George made a fist and tapped my jaw with it. I flinched and he smiled.

“Next time, I won’t be so gentle,” he said.

Cara gave me a triumphant look and I studied her face. Her age was beginning to show in little wrinkles by her eyes and the sag behind her jawline. Her beauty was fading. She had to know it. It was very clear why she’d leeched on to George. If she could get him to take care of her, all of her problems would be solved.

“Why did you make such a scene at the tea?” I asked.

George lurched at me as if he’d hit me, but I held up my hand to ward him off.

“No, I really want to know,” I said. “Weren’t you worried that the police would be onto Cara as a murderess if she threatened Geoffrey?”

“No,” George said. Then he grinned and again I was struck by how his mirth lacked any discernible warmth. How had I missed that?

“For the very simple reason that we knew Geoffrey was going to die while she was in police custody,” George explained. “Liam insisted she be arrested, and I gave a token protest to seem to be the caring sort. It gave her the ultimate alibi. And, of course, who would suspect me? I’m the lesser brother, the younger one, who wasn’t going to inherit—the throwaway child, if you will.”

It was then that I noticed Dotty sidling around the foyer moving oh-so-slowly behind Cara. She had the same manic glint in her eye that I’d been on the receiving end of when she couldn’t see past my hair color.

“George, that’s not true!” Cara protested. “You’re the strong one, the smart one, the one who will take control of the Grisby fortune.”

“Well, you should know, Cara,” I said. “I’m sure you tried on all of the other Grisby men. Did Liam and Geoffrey Junior reject you flat-out? Was George really the best fit or was he the only one interested in sloppy seconds?”

This time the back of George’s hand connected hard with my mouth. My upper lip was smashed against my teeth and my cheek felt like it had been hit with a hammer. The blow staggered me, knocking me off my feet.

When George would have followed it with a kick, a horrific crash followed by a shriek that was cut off in midpitch interrupted his momentum and he spun around just in time to see Dotty stagger back from where she had smashed a large crystal vase over Cara’s head.

Cara lay unconscious in a puddle of water and glass shards with pink and white roses scattered all around her.

Dotty and George glared at each other over the body.

“Gram, you daft old bag, what the hell are you doing?” he roared.

I scrambled forward to get the gun. George stopped me by stepping on my arm and pinning it to the floor.

“Think again, love,” he snapped.

I wondered if I could take him, and I thought about punching him in the back of the leg to see if I could bring him down, but just then the front door burst open and Inspector Finchley appeared with a pack of uniforms behind him.

“Step off the lady, Mr. Mercer,” Finchley ordered.

George lifted his foot off and gave the detective a bland look. “I’m sure this looks out of sorts, but I can explain.”

“Mother!” From behind the officers Daphne, Lily and Rose charged into the house. “Are you all right? What’s happened?”

“George killed Geoffrey,” Dotty said. “And I think I helped.”

She promptly burst into tears and threw herself into Daphne’s arms. Daphne looked over her mother’s head at her son and I saw it in her face: the singular lack of surprise. It was then that I realized Daphne knew. She knew what her son was capable of and had probably always known.

“Detective Inspector Finchley, you’re going to want to arrest my son for the murder of my brother,” she said.

“Oh, that’s right,” George snapped. “Come in here and let me take the fall. What? Are you hoping your precious Liam still has a chance to inherit?”

“No, I’m hoping Tina has a healthy baby boy, who inherits,” Daphne said.

“How can you say that?” George cried. “Don’t you see? This way we would have had it all. Isn’t that what you wanted? Haven’t you been yelling about how it is rightfully yours because you are the oldest and how your dear brother was screwing you out of what should have gone to your sons?”

“No, not my sons,” she said.

“Oh, of course!” George barked with bitter laughter. “Just your
son
, your one precious shining golden son, Liam. Liam the perfect. Liam the glorious. Does the sun even know how to rise without Liam?”

Daphne gave him a sad look. “My one mentally healthy son, yes.”

“I’m not crazy,” George protested. “Just because Gram is daft, does not mean I am. You have to stop saying that. Cara didn’t think I was crazy. She thought I was strong and handsome and brave.”

“You murdered your uncle!” Daphne’s composure cracked and she shrieked at him. Lily and Rose gave her shocked looks, but Daphne’s gaze never left her son. “If that’s not sick, what is? Your father is on his way here from the States. We’ll do whatever we can for you, George.”

“But don’t you see I did it for you?” George’s voice grew soft and childlike. “I did it for you, Mommy.”

“Oh God,” Daphne cried. She pushed Dotty into Rose’s arms and spun away. Lily caught her and held her and Daphne began to sob on Lily’s shoulder.

Lily gestured for the police to take George away and they snatched him by the arms and led him down the hall. I watched from my spot on the floor, riveted by the unfolding family drama.

The front door opened wider and Tina pushed her way into the room. She saw me on the floor and she hurried over to help me up.

“Scarlett, I was just at the shop and Viv told me that she thought you’d come here to see me—what were you thinking? You could have been killed. Oh heavens, it would have been all my fault,” she wailed.

She steadied me on my feet and behind her I saw a flash of long blonde hair, and then Viv was hugging me, shaking me, and then hugging me again.