Murder at Blackwater Manor Page 8

He switched on the recorder in the middle of the table and recited the usual introduction, stating the date, time and people present.

  “Let’s all go back to the night of the murder,” he said after that, “You all had a pleasant dinner and enjoyed Miss Cecile’s culinary masterpieces. My wife and sister-in-law were also present and have confirmed what followed next, as have most of you during our talk yesterday.”

  “You all felt quite full,” he went on after he looked carefully at each person present, “so someone, Mr. Bluebird actually, suggested you all go out for a smoke. Since he was the only person in the room, who didn’t smoke besides Sage and Primrose, Philip excused himself and went upstairs to his study, saying he had something to take care of.”

  “What it was, only one of you really knows and another one found out accidentally later, which led to the gruesome murder.”

  People started shifting uncomfortably in their seats, but no one dared to interrupt Ben for fear of drawing unwanted attention.

  “You all came back to the game room at eleven o’clock and everything else happened in the next fifteen minutes. You went out, Thea,” Ben said, turning to Mrs. Blackwater, “and said you were going to the kitchen to check on your maid and make tea for your husband. At about the same time Anabelle went out the front door and into the garden under the pretext that she needed fresh air. Minutes later, Mr. Bluebird got up, worried that his wife had disappeared and went to see if she wasn’t in the kitchen. Mr. James Blackwater was left alone in the game room for some time. Primrose and Sage were freshening up in the downstairs bathroom. Is that what all of you agree happened that night?”

  The people around the table nodded feebly, with the exception of Prim and Sage who said a loud ‘Yes’ together.

  Ben waited a few moments before resuming his talk. He knew that the tension was high in the room and the longer he managed to draw this out, the higher the chance would be of extracting a confession from the murderer.

  “So, Mr. Bluebird,” he said and turned to Alex, who was patting his wife’s hand to comfort her, and flinched at hearing Ben address him. “Did you see anyone when you went into the kitchen just after eleven?”

  “No,” he said, his voice trembling, “I mean, of course, Cecile was there…”

  “Did you hear anything? Any noises from upstairs?”

  “I don’t think so,” Alex Bluebird said, “The water was running, Cecile was doing the dishes.”

  “Thank you,” Ben said and turned to the scared-looking Anabelle.

  “Mrs. Bluebird, did you really need fresh air just a couple of minutes after you were out on the terrace?”

  “No,” she admitted quietly.

  “What were you doing outside then?”

  “I was meeting someone.” Anabelle’s voice was barely audible now.

  “Thank you. Now, could you write your name and address on this piece of paper?” Ben said and handed her writing materials. Anabelle looked confused, but she obeyed and put down the required information.

  Ben took the sheet and pulled out a plastic bag from the case file, which contained the small note Sage had found.

  “Does everyone agree that this note was written by Anabelle Bluebird?”

  Everyone leaned in to take a better look at the note and simultaneously agreed that the handwriting was the same.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Bluebird,” Ben said and put the note in the bag in front of Thea Blackwater. “Do you recognize this note, Thea?”

  The woman nodded lightly.

  “Please, speak up for the record.”

  “Yes.”

  “Where is this all going?” James Blackwater asked impatiently.

  “Just give me a moment, James,” Ben said with a smile and turned to the maid, “Cecile, how many times did you hear the front door open and shut before you heard your mistress screaming upstairs?”

  “Twice, I think,” Cecile said.

  “Thank you all,” Ben said and stopped walking around the room. He leaned over the wall and said, “Though many of you are not aware, there is a cold-blooded murderer in this room.” He paused waiting for the effect of his words to sink in.

  “Mrs. Blackwater,” he said finally, “Did you receive a beautiful rose bouquet from your husband this morning?”

  “No,” Thea whispered, then cleared her throat and repeated more loudly, “No.”

  “That’s because someone else received it. Someone who had written a note to her lover to meet her in the garden at eleven.”

  A few glances were exchanged and realizing what the sheriff was saying, Alex Bluebird drew his hand away from his wife, a painful expression written all over his face.

  “Maybe you’d suspected this for a long time, Thea,” Ben continued, “Or maybe you just found out accidentally when you went to see what he was doing upstairs and fetch him for the card game. He’d just been writing a letter to you. At first I thought that small piece of paper I found among the ashes of the burned letter was part of a will, judging by the words ‘I’m leaving’ but it wasn’t. He was about to run away with his mistress who was waiting for him in the garden and was writing to let you know he was leaving you.”

  A few loud gasps punctuated Ben’s speech.

  “You found the note earlier, when Philip probably dropped it at dinner, but didn’t expect it to be that serious. After all, Philip had had affairs for years. You lost control then and murdered your husband in cold blood, using the silver vase and carefully wiping it before throwing it out of the window. You burned the letter with the match sticks you carry around. Then you thought fast and figured out that if you came out of the study, people could see you and would suspect that you killed Philip, so you climbed out the window and down the rose tree that’s right outside.”

  “I have photographs that show the mutilated flowers that resulted from your descent. In addition, you ripped your red dress’ sleeve on the window frame and left a small piece of fabric behind.”

  “You came back in the house through the front door and it was sheer luck that you didn’t run into Mrs. Bluebird, who’d probably walked further away into the garden, still hoping that Philip would show up. Then you headed straight for the kitchen to make a cup of tea, took it upstairs, and without ever going in the room, started screaming.”

  “You didn’t have time to find the new will that Philip had drawn, leaving you penniless and transferring his riches over to his brother, so you wouldn’t get a thing after you found out about his betrayal.”

  Thea Blackwater’s eyes were now big and bloodshot, full of angry tears. No one dared speak and Ben took the stand again.

  “Theodora Blackwater, do you confess to the murder of your husband Philip Blackwater?”

  “That old goat,” the hysterical woman suddenly hissed, “He’s always had everything, always wanting more, especially if it would hurt people. For once Alex got something new and shiny and there he is, my Philip, tired of me, his old conquest, looking to hurt his friend again and take something that’s not his. Show Alex just how much better he is than him, oh, what a winner! And you, Anabelle? Could you even sink any lower? Marrying someone who could be your father and running away with his best friend? I can’t even look at you! You disgust me! I should have killed you!”

  Thea suddenly got up and jumped across the short distance that separated her from Anabelle Bluebird and clenched her fingers around the woman’s neck. It was a half-hearted attempt, as right in the same moment, everyone rushed over to disentangle the two. Ben used the moment to lock a pair of handcuffs around Thea’s wrists and called out to his deputy to take her away.

  “Well, congratulations, James,” Ben said once the culprit was gone. “At first I thought you had the most convincing motive to kill your brother, but even the cigarette end that we found under the chair wasn’t implicating enough. You must have dropped it when you were confirming your brother’s death. Now you went from my main suspect to a rich man and I hope you’ll use your fortune wisely. Don’t forget there are
still people waiting for their compensations after the financial debacle.”

  Cecile, though initially in shock, managed to smile at Ben’s remark.

  “Let’s go,” Prim whispered in her sister’s ear. “There’s nothing more to be done here.”

  As they were leaving the sheriff’s station, hand in hand, they could still hear Mrs. Blackwater’s loud cursing and Mr. Bluebirds angry screaming at his wife.

  “I think we did well,” Sage said smugly, a smile stretching across her lips.

  “Yeah, I think we did,” Prim agreed and squeezed her sister’s hand. “Come on, we should get out of here. We have a flower shop to open.”

  Epilogue

  “I think it’s a great idea,” Dan said, stroking Sage’s hand with his thumb from across the table.

  This time they were sitting at a proper restaurant and wore proper clothes. There wasn’t much choice of places to go on a date at in Rosecliff, but it was only their second time going out together, so it didn’t bother them. They had picked a charming diner that looked out to the ocean, though you couldn’t see anything through the windows now. The sun had set hours ago.

  “It makes me nervous, but I really want to try it,” Sage admitted and took a sip of her wine.

  “I remember someone saying the same thing about her flower shop a couple of days ago and look how well she is managing.”

  “I’m not Prim, Dan,” Sage sighed. “She is superwoman. I never doubted for a second that the shop would be a success.”

  “Then why don’t you do the same for yourself?”

  “Do what?”

  “Stop doubting and just do it. You have me and your sister and Ben, and we are all on your side. We’ll support you.”

  “Support me how? Start committing crimes, so I’ll have something to investigate?”

  Dan smiled. “No,” he said slowly as if he was speaking to a child, “But we could help spread the word. You could make business cards—Sage Fields, Private Detective—and I could put them at The Cheshire Cat, so if anyone…”

  “That’s such a great idea!” Sage said, “You’d do that?”

  “Not just that,” Dan winked, “Worst case scenario and this town is as peaceful and crime-free as a retirement community for the rest of its history, I can always hire you to work at the cafe.”

  “Oh, you’ve changed your mind about that? What about the pots of coffee I’ll be secretly downing?”

  “We’ll work out a payment plan for those,” Dan said meaningfully and Sage blushed.

  The waitress brought their orders of freshly grilled seafood and green salads. Though the food looked and smelled divine, Sage wasn’t too eager to pull her hand from Dan’s just yet. He didn’t seem to be in a hurry either.

  This is nice, Sage thought. It felt safe and right to be sitting here with this man who was not only a pleasure to look at, but was funny and generous and exciting. Was it possible that he wasn’t who he seemed to be? Sage stopped herself before she’d gone into doubting his genuineness. It was so easy to never give anyone a chance just because she’d been so badly hurt once.

  But here she was, holding his hand, and she felt brave for it. What was starting a new business compared to opening her heart to someone again? If she could risk getting hurt again, she could definitely risk trying to be a private detective in a tiny town and failing miserably at it.

  Suddenly her phone rang. It couldn’t be Dan, who was sitting right there, so the only other person who could be calling was Prim, but why would she be calling? She knew Sage was on a date, so it must be a matter of life and death for her sister to interrupt something she’d practically pushed her into.

  “I’m sorry, I think I need to get that,” Sage said, reluctantly pulling her hand from Dan’s.

  “It’s fine,” he said, “Don’t worry about it. I’ll get started on these clams.”

  Sage pulled out the phone and the blue screen confirmed it really was Prim. She excused herself and got up from the table.

  “Prim?” she said into the phone, worried, “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m so, so sorry to bother you honey,” Prim’s concerned voice came through, “You know I’d never…”

  “What’s happened, Prim? Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” Prim said quietly, “But I got a very disturbing call. I was debating if I should even tell you, but I think it would be best if you knew.”

  “What is it?” Sage asked impatiently.

  “Okay, there is no easy way to say this, so I’m just going to say it. Derek’s in town. He called my number after he saw that your old one’s been shut down.”

  There was silence on the line.

  “Sage? Are you still there?”

  Sage had frozen in her spot by the front door. The wind coming from the dark ocean was whistling straight past her face, but she didn’t feel a thing.

  “I’m here,” she whispered, “What does he want?”

  “Oh, honey,” Prim said, “I know how hard this must be on you. I told him you weren’t interested in seeing him, but he’s taken a room at the Blue Lagoon motel and he said he’s not leaving until he gets to talk to you.”

  “Did you give him my number?”

  “Of course not! That’s your choice to make, not mine.”

  “Thanks, Prim. I should go back.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “I need to be. I’ll figure it out.”

  As she walked back to the table, Sage wished she hadn’t picked up the phone at all. At least she could have enjoyed the dinner, which now seemed ruined.

  “Sage, you need to try this,” Dan smiled, wiping his lips with a napkin, “You’ve never had anything like it.”

  She couldn’t help but smile in return. This man wasn’t Derek, she kept reminding herself. This dinner would be as ruined as she allowed it to be, so she sat down and tucked her fingers back in the cozy spot of Dan’s large, warm hand.

  At least for now, she would let herself be happy and safe.

  Author’s Note

  Thank you for purchasing Murder at Blackwater Manor!

  I hope you had just as much fun reading it as I had writing it. If so, it would mean a lot to me if you dropped me a line in the form of a review or just said “Hi.” You can find me at: anamoureauthor@gmail.com

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  I’m looking forward to getting in touch with you!