Shaded Light: The Case of the Tactless Trophy Wife: A Paul Manziuk and Jacquie Ryan Mystery (The Manziuk and Ryan Mysteries Book 1) (21 page)

“Do you really think this is necessary, Officer?” the big man asked. George Brodie nodded as if in agreement with the question.

“I’m afraid so.”

“But you surely don’t suspect one of us?” The brittle voice belonged to the woman sitting beside the big man—Fischer, was that the name?—who had not looked upset.

“Just procedure,” Manziuk said before turning to Mrs. Winston. “Now, if you’ll come along with me?”

When Manziuk led Mrs. Winston into the study, he found Ryan standing in the center of the room as if wondering what to do next.

“Take the desk,” he instructed, waving his arm to underline the words. “This is Mrs. Winston, the housekeeper.” He seated her in one of the two easy chairs in front of the desk and took the other chair for himself.

“This all must be very upsetting,” he said gently.

The woman nodded. “I’ve never been this close to such a thing before. Nor ever wanted to. There’s some I know would be glad to be in my shoes, but I’m not. I’d as soon be off right now. But that wouldn’t do. Mrs. Brodie needs me.”

“That’s right. I’m sure she does. And the sooner this is cleared up, the better for everyone.”

She nodded vigorously, but added, “I don’t know anything, though. I’ve no idea how it could have happened.”

“Well, there might be something you know that you don’t think counts. Or maybe you can help us just by telling about the people in the house. We don’t know the people and you do. Now, I’m just going to turn this tape recorder on, and then let’s see if you can give us any clues as to what’s happened this afternoon. I understand there’s a buzzer in your kitchen that goes off when someone enters by the front gate. Has it gone off this afternoon?”

“Only once, sir. That is, until the police started coming.”

“And who was that?”

“Miss Lorry, sir. Mrs. Brodie’s cousin.”

“What time was that?”

“Shortly after one. We’d been serving brunch and she got back just before we started clearing up.

“Do you know where she had been?”

“Mrs. Brodie said she was going to church. She was the only one up for breakfast at eight, except Mr. Brodie. And she drove off some time after nine. Mr. Brodie opened the gate so she could get out.”

“Did the buzzer go off at any other times today?”

“Not that I heard.”

“Could it have gone off without your hearing?”

“I was in the kitchen all but maybe half an hour this morning, and this afternoon from one-thirty to two-thirty. But Crystal was in the kitchen this afternoon, so she’d have heard. The only time neither of us was near the kitchen was this morning from about twelve to twelve-thirty after we’d served brunch and I went up to see that she was doing a good job tidying up the rest of the bedrooms. Some of the people had just come out of their rooms then, so we had to try to tidy their rooms while they were eating.”

“Would someone on foot make the buzzer go off?”

“Oh, yes, sir. Even an animal will, a cat, for instance. It’s very sensitive, you see.”

“Good. Now then, Mrs. Winston, you are by way of being a good objective witness. I’d like your opinion on a few things.”

“I’ll try, sir,” she said anxiously.

“What, for instance, did you think of Mrs. Martin?”

“Well, that’s hard to say.” Her words came out slowly, reluctantly.

“Just tell me what you think,” he urged.

“Well, I don’t like to speak ill of the dead.” Her eyes slowly raised to meet his. “I guess I didn’t like her too much. She was never polite, like Mrs. Brodie, or that nice girl, Lorry Preston. Why, when I was getting breakfast for Miss Lorry this morning, she was so sweet about it! Didn’t want to trouble me. Thanked me with a big smile. Now Mrs. Martin, never a thank you from her. Just orders and complaints. And I didn’t for one minute believe her story about the broken vase!”

“Broken vase?”

“Water and petals and broken vase everywhere—splashed all over the walls and the door as well as the carpet. She said she was moving it because it was in the way. But you tell me how dropping a vase you’re moving is going to smash it all over the place. I wasn’t born yesterday.”

“I see.”

“Not that I want to say unkind things, but you asked what I thought.”

“Yes, I did. What about some of the others? Mrs. Fischer, for instance.”

“Keeps to herself. Probably has the migraine. My sister is like that. Goes out for a while and then has to hurry home to lie down. I heard her crying once, too.”

“Your sister?”

Mrs. Winston looked at Manziuk reprovingly. “Mrs. Fischer. Maybe it’s her time of life.”

“Maybe,” Manziuk agreed. But he was thinking that of all the people in the room she had looked the least unhappy, except for George Brodie’s nephew Bart, of course.

“What about the nephew?” Manziuk asked.

“Oh, him,” Mrs. Winston’s face broke into a smile which she quickly wiped away. “He’s the black sheep of the family. Comes around when he needs money. Mrs. Brodie’s told me all about him. But you can’t help liking him, anyway. He has what Mrs. Brodie calls ‘charm.’ Like today at brunch. What does he do but come right out into the kitchen, put on a frilly apron, and insist on helping Crystal and me take the food out to the patio.”

“They all ate outside?”

“Yes, sir. A cold buffet beside the pool. Mrs. Brodie likes that on hot days.”

“And everyone was there?”

“Yes, sir. Miss Lorry was a bit late on account of being at church, but the others were all there.”

“Did you notice anything unusual today, or this weekend, for that matter?”

“No, sir. I don’t think so…” Her voice trailed off.

“What is it?”

“Well, just a feeling, I guess. Likely silly.”

“What sort of feeling?”

“I guess just that it wasn’t a very successful party.” She made a sweeping gesture. “I know it isn’t now. After a murder. But I mean before. There seemed to be a lot of tension in the air. Crystal thinks I’m being silly. But I did feel that way.”

“Do you still feel it?”

She looked at him in surprise. Her eyes grew round. “No, I don’t,” she said in a bewildered tone. “There’s people upset, for it’s a terrible thing to have happen, but it’s like the storm broke. Like when there’s electricity in the air and then the storm breaks and it’s over. Isn’t that strange?” she said, more to herself than as a question.

“Perhaps not,” Manziuk said. “Well, if you think of anything else, just tell one of the officers. I’ll want to talk to you again, likely, after we know more.”

Mrs. Winston hesitated. “Did it happen quickly?”

He nodded, “Very quickly, I believe.”

“That’s good. You don’t like to see people suffer. At least I don’t.” She turned to leave, then paused. “It was somebody strange, wasn’t it? Some madman who didn’t know what he was doing?”

“Maybe. We don’t know yet.”

She shivered, and then went through the door Ryan was holding open.

“Who’s next?” Ryan asked when she was gone.

Manziuk didn’t hear her. Eyes half shut, he considered Mrs. Winston. Tension in the air, indeed! He opened his eyes to find Ryan staring at him.

“Who will you see next?” she asked.

“I guess her daughter. Then they can make supper. Who knows? They might offer us some.”

Ryan’s face showed a fleeting glance of derision, but she quickly left the room, returning moments later with Crystal Winston.

Manziuk thought Crystal looked composed. He guessed her age at eighteen.

She nodded.

“In high school?” he asked conversationally.

“I graduated this spring. In the fall, I’ll be going to college. Ryerson.”

His eyebrows lifted.

She shrugged. “I’m helping my mother for this weekend and the odd day. Normally, I work as a hostess and cashier at a restaurant a few miles from here. I’m part time during the school year and full time in the summer.”

“Well, Crystal, can you tell us anything about this weekend? Did you hear the buzzer going off today, for instance?”

She answered quickly, as if she had already gone over the events in her mind. “Both times for Miss Preston. Then again after lunch. Twice in about twenty minutes.”

“This was after Lorry Preston was back for lunch?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know who it was?”

“Not for sure,” she hesitated. “I think it was Bart Brodie. He looked terribly angry a little while after lunch, and I saw him going toward the garage. Of course, he’s staying in the apartment above it, so he may have been just going there. But it was only a minute or so later that the buzzer went off.”

“And it went again in about twenty minutes?”

She nodded.

“About what time would that have been?”

“Before my mom finished her nap.”

“When did she finish her nap?”

“Always at two-thirty.”

“And after that, were you out of the kitchen?”

“Only to take the lemonade.”

“When was that?”

“I’d just put the strawberry shortcake in the oven. Mom and I had a cup of coffee after her nap, and then I made the shortcake. So it would have been around three o’clock.”

“Did you see Bart Brodie again?”

“I saw him walking off with Ms. Jensen a little before we made the lemonade.”

“Anything else you noticed this afternoon? Anyone going into the Japanese garden? Or anything that seemed unusual?”

“The Japanese garden?” she repeated slowly. “No, sir.”

“So you were around the kitchen most of the afternoon, were you, Crystal?”

“Mostly. I cleared up things on the patio, of course, and I collected glasses from the bar, and I put some water in the flowers in the dining room and the day room. That’s about it.”

“Have you ever been troubled by strangers coming into the yard?”

“No, sir. They say the house two doors down was robbed during the winter when the owners were in Florida, but it turned out to be the chauffeur’s brother-in-law who did it. They caught him pretty quickly.”

“So this is a relatively peaceful area?”

“Yes, sir. There aren’t many hitchhikers or hikers or such around here.”

Manziuk sat up a bit and leaned forward. “What do you make of it, Crystal? Ever been involved in a murder before?”

“No, sir.”

“Frightened?”

She leaned forward, her eyes earnest. “A little, I suppose. But more interested. Not everyone gets to be part of a police investigation.”

“I guess that’s true.”

“Do you think it will happen again?”

“I doubt it. We rarely have two murders one after the other.” She looked vaguely disappointed. “But on the other hand, you never know. It pays to be careful.”

Crystal shivered.

Manziuk’s tone was fatherly, “Any ideas as to who might have done it? Perhaps you noticed someone who didn’t like Mrs. Martin.”

Crystal tossed her head. “That’s easy. Mrs. Fischer. She looked at her a few times like if she’d had a knife in her hand she’d have thrown it. Like when you read about someone looking daggers at another person? That was her.”

“I see.” He paused. “Anyone else?”

“I don’t really think so,” she said slowly. She looked down at her hands and then back at Manziuk. “Do you need to know everything?”

“I have to. We don’t want someone running loose who might do this again, do we? No matter who it is.”

Her right hand went up and touched one of her earrings. “Well, I know Mrs. Martin had an argument with her husband. They were in their room with the door shut, but I could hear them from the hallway as I went by. I don’t know what they were saying, exactly, but they were talking loud, and then they quieted down like they were afraid they might be heard.”

“Did you catch any words?”

“I didn’t really. Not much, anyway.” She looked embarrassed. “To tell the truth, I was trying to hear them.”

Manziuk allowed a bit of a smile. Ryan, seated at the desk making notes, looked up and said, “Why shouldn’t you? I know I would have.”