Set the Stage for Murder (12 page)

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Authors: Brent Peterson

BOOK: Set the Stage for Murder
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So to speak, Mr. Mac. It turns out this guy’s pretty much a weasel anyway. It was pretty clear that Ms. Whiting was going to blackmail Mr. Cortez with whatever he found out. Unfortunately, he developed some scruples and wouldn’t tell me the exact nature of what he discovered.”


But we can assume it wasn’t good,” Vicki concluded, glancing at Teddy and then Marc.


Yes Ma’am, we can assume it wasn’t good.” Vincent always referred to Vicki as “Ma’am,” apparently unable to come up with an appropriate nickname that he considered respectful enough. She hoped he would think of something soon.


Well, I’d say that it’s starting to look as if Connor might have a grudge against Rosamund,” Teddy said. “I assume he’s your number one suspect, Mother?


Yes, dear, he is at the top of the list,” Phoebe answered, clearly pleased that her son had got into the spirit of things. “However, I don’t think we can rule out his parents.”


Why?” Teddy asked. “What did you find out about them?”


Nothing, dear. I just think we’d be wise to consider the possibility that either Sally Crandall or Ed Cortez or both know that Rosamund is blackmailing their son. I suspect that knowledge of that sort might generate a great deal of hatred.”


And might push someone to do something they would never consider doing otherwise,” Vicki sighed, stretching her legs so that her feet rested in her husband’s lap. “Well, dear husband, you’ve certainly gathered an interesting group for your next production.”


Yes, I have. And what’s even better is that they’re all gathering under our roof for the weekend. I suppose it’s too late to cancel? Maybe we’ll just pretend we’re not at home.”


Actually Theodore, it’s fortuitous that you’re having this gathering, at least for the purposes of our investigation.” Phoebe closed her folder, took off her reading glasses, and continued. “It makes our work much easier.”


Our work, Mother?” Teddy asked nervously. “What sort of work would that be?”


Why, detecting, dear. And I’ve have the most exciting plan of action.”


Don’t anyone ask,” Teddy asked. “Let’s all pretend we didn’t hear her.”

Vicky pinched her husband again, causing him to yelp. “What’s our plan, Phoebe?”

Phoebe smiled at Vicki’s obvious support. “No one knows Vincent other than the people in this room, correct?” she asked, looking around the room. Everyone nodded in agreement. “Well, I think we should allow Vincent to infiltrate the gathering as a servant. He could work closely with Marc and Ethan.”


It’s brilliant,” Marc responded enthusiastically. I love this plan.”


As a servant, he can be anywhere in the house and no one will think a thing about it. He’ll be able to overhear all sorts of things to which the rest of us could never be privy.”

“Mother, it’s not as if we have a Victorian household where Vincent can be a backstairs maid. He’s not exactly invisible, you know.”

“No, he’s not,” Marc agreed, inspiring Vicki to bow her head and laugh.

“Honestly, Theodore, I’m perfectly aware of which century we are in and the limitations of my plan. But regardless of what you believe, people let their guard down in front of the staff. I’m certainly not saying it’s right or just, but for the most part, it happens to be true.”

“Teddy, I think your mother has a point,” Vicki agreed, “especially where this group is concerned. Our weekend guests are, by and large, an extremely self-obsessed group. As long as Vincent refills the drinks, he’ll go by unnoticed.”

“What do you think of this plan, Vincent?” Teddy asked, slowly warming to the idea.

“It can’t hurt, Mr. Mac,” Vincent said, flashing Phoebe a dazzling smile. “Besides, I’d never pass up a chance to polish my undercover skills.”

With smirk firmly in place, Teddy turned his attention to Marc and Ethan. “I suppose this is okay with the rest of “the staff?”

Ethan laughed. “I believe “the staff” thinks it’s a grand idea.” He turned and looked at his partner. “I’m assuming I speak for you, as well?”

“You do,” Marc replied, bravely attempting nonchalance and avoiding looking in Vincent’s direction.” We have Kim and Marie, the two local girls who always help out, coming in as well, but there will be plenty to do.”

“Splendid!” Phoebe said, clapping her hands. “Marc, Vincent is yours for the weekend. Do with him what you will.”

“That’s right.” Vincent, who was long accustomed to attention from both sexes, grinned broadly. “I’m all yours, Chef. Do with me what you will.”

It might have been the statement, the smile or the wink, or perhaps a combination of all three, but for some reason or another, and for one of the first times in his life, Marc Denby was rendered speechless.

***

Later that evening, when they should have been sleeping or at least engaged in some other sort of pleasurable activity, Vicki and Teddy lay in bed and read the files on their weekend guests, as if they were a couple of ten-year-olds with copies of the newest Harry Potter book. Clementine snored contentedly between them.


Did you get to Harold yet?” Vicki asked. “At least now we know why he badgered Billy for a ride up here this weekend. It appears his driver’s license was suspended after his third DUI.” She turned and looked at Teddy over her reading glasses. “And, apparently he wasn’t only drunk, but nude, the last time he was stopped. What in the hell is wrong with him?”

“I’m not sure, but whatever you do, don’t get in a car with him,” Teddy murmured without looking up, clearly engrossed in what he was reading.

Vicki returned to her folder and continued reading as she absentmindedly rubbed Clementine’s belly. “Why does it not surprise me that Billy stalked an old girlfriend in college until she had to get a restraining order? Every woman we know who’s dated him has almost had to do the same thing.” She looked up from reading and thoughtfully gazed at the recurring pagoda pattern on the green and cream toile paper that covered the wall opposite her. “Teddy, how is it we find Billy so charming and everyone else we know thinks he’s creepy?”

“Billy’s a charming creep, sweetheart,” Teddy answered, still not looking up from his file. “And I think the sad truth of the matter is that we don’t mind being stalked all that much.”

Vicki turned on her side and faced him. “Okay, who is it that has you so engrossed? Are you reading that clipping about Caroline being a man? You know that Marc totally believes that. Well, he actually thinks she’s a hermaphrodite. I’m not sure why.”

“No,” Teddy yawned, laying the file down on his chest and rubbing his eyes. “I’ve already made it through Dame Caroline’s file and moved on to Roz’s. How is it that I forgot she and Meg delivered Juliet by themselves?”

“Yeah, I didn’t know either of them very well at the time, but I remember hearing a version of that story making the rounds.” She tossed her file on the floor by the bed, took off her glasses, put them on the bedside table, and turned off her light. “What was Meg doing in Prague, anyway? She wasn’t in
A Renaissance Woman
was she?”

“No,” said Teddy, switching off his light. “I’ve always thought she was running away.”

“From what?” Vicki asked.

“From Ed and Sally’s marriage. She was crazy about him and because he was Ed, he was leading her on.” He yawned again. “I think it broke her heart.”

“Hmmmm.”

“What?”

“I was just thinking that Meg’s life has been pretty sad since that time. There she’s been, all these years, living in Roz’s shadow, literally. Roz has had it all … maybe not all at the same time, but she’s had it all; fame, family, beauty. And Meg hasn’t had any of it. Well at least none of it she can call her own. Even her looks are a pale facsimile of Roz’s, yet close enough to make her difficult to cast. Close enough to kill any chance of her having a successful acting career, at any rate. Hmmmm.”

Light from an almost full moon streamed through the windows, illuminating the room so that Teddy had the pleasure of gazing at his wife’s face on the pillow next to his. “Spill it.”

“What?”

“What’s going on in that incredibly pretty head?”

“Well,” Vicki said, “I was just thinking that Meg Pierce might be awfully resentful of her good friend Roz.”

Teddy pulled her over into his arms and caressed her hair. “Does that mean you’ve moved her to the “Suspects” section?”

“Yes,” Vicki answered thoughtfully. “I think it does.”

 

Chapter 11

 

If radar were able to track chaotic energy, heightened emotion, and ill will in the same manner it surveys weather phenomena, then one would have been able to observe, on an otherwise pleasant Friday afternoon in mid-August, a large storm, perhaps even a perfect one, on a steady and determined path toward Lenore’s Folly. Alas, such technology does not exist. Which does not mean, however, that the leading and supporting players in the upcoming drama were unaware of the gathering clouds or were oblivious of the changes in the atmosphere. Even those with walk-on parts and no lines felt the hair on the back of their necks subtly rising when the wind picked up

or changed directions. In the vernacular of the theater, it was opening night, there had been no rehearsal, and stage fright was running rampant.

The Folly regulars were busier than they might have been were they preparing for just another ordinary house party, first, because this gathering promised to be anything but ordinary, and second, because the estate’s residents, for reasons still unclear to some of them, had agreed to be part of a weekend investigative cooperative. In the light of day, without the benefit of a cocktail, a couple of glasses of really good cabernet from Phoebe’s cellar, and a snifter or two of brandy, the agreement seemed to be, well, unusual. Still, they proceeded with preparations for the performance.

Currently, Vincent was having a costume fitting. The handsome ex-policeman stood perfectly still on a fruit crate in the middle of the Cottage’s kitchen, as Marc knelt before him, pinning the hem on a pair of trousers. Vicki and Phoebe watched in amusement.


Vincent,” Marc said through teeth clenched around a line of straight pins, “if you don’t stop moving I’m going to stick you.”


Vincent’s not moving, Marc dear,” Phoebe observed as she sipped a cup of tea. “However, it does appear that your hands are shaking. Do you think that could be the problem?” she asked with a serene smile and raised eyebrows.


That must be it,” Marc grumbled.


Don’t worry, Chef,” Vincent chimed in. “I’m tough. I can take it.” He winked at Phoebe and Vicki.


So, Vincent, you found a jacket that fit okay?” Vicki asked. The Cottage had a collection of uniforms in various sizes for caterers and servers to wear when extra help was required. Actually, having a stash of identical uniforms had been Marc’s idea. It was part of his effort to elevate the Cottage to a “proper household.”


Yes Ma’am,” Vincent replied, making Vicki wish he’d hurry up and think of something to call her. “The jacket fits like a glove. Right, Chef?”


Uhhh, yeah, the jacket fits … fine … well … it fits him well,” Marc stuttered as he stood and avoided everyone’s gaze.“

Vincent beamed and winked at the two women. He put his arm around Marc and gave him a squeeze. “You’re the greatest, Chef. I don’t know how to thank you for hemming these pants for me.


Oh, I’m sure he’ll think of something,” Vicki said mischievously.

Marc glared at her. “I’m going to the sewing room to finish these pants and when I return, I trust I’ll have my kitchen back?”


Sure thing, Chef. In fact, I’m supposed to meet Shakespeare for butlering lessons. I’ll see all of you later.” He bowed slightly. “Ladies.” He grabbed Marc and gave him a bear hug. “Chef, thanks again. I mean it.” With another wink at Phoebe and Vicki, he walked out the back door and headed down the stone path to the greenhouse, where Ethan was busy putting together floral arrangements, using the dozens of flowers he and Vicki had selected from the gardens yesterday. No doubt, Vincent would charm Ethan just as he’d captivated the three people in kitchen.

Marc shot a look at the two women that was anything but charming. In spite of themselves, Vicki and her mother-in-law could not stop laughing. “Yes, by all means, enjoy yourselves,” he said, hands on hips. “I can think of only one time when I was more humiliated and it involved discovering my trousers had been unzipped in front of an audience of twelve hundred people for an entire performance of
Hello Dolly
.”


Why didn’t someone tell you?” asked Vicki, wiping a tear away from her eye.


Because apparently,” Marc said bitingly, “they were cruel, cruel people who thought it was amusing. Sound familiar?”


Oh, Marc,” Phoebe said laughingly, “I do apologize. Normally, I would never find humor in someone else’s discomfort but … well, this was just so funny.” She looked at Vicki and they started laughing all over again.


Unbelievable,” Marc muttered as he walked up the back staircase. He stopped and turned back toward the women. “Maybe later I’ll pull out those photos of me taken before my parents had my lazy eye corrected. I’m sure they’ll keep the two of you cackling all day long.” With a flourish, he turned and walked up the stairs.

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