The Butler Didn't Do It - Maria Lima [6]
Clara’s voice grew hard as she turned her gaze on Gerald. “Is that why you told them, Gerald? And had Jamison arrested? To punish me? What were you planning to do?”
Gerald moaned again. “I’d seen part of your will when I came up that weekend. I went upstairs to confront you.”
His voice became as whiny as a child’s as he continued. “I was your nephew and needed the money more than those servants of yours.
“And when I saw the two of you, I knew I had to do something. I figured that the police would keep him until daylight and then it would be all over for him. After that, I could come back and move you out into the sun. Then you’d really be dead. And you wouldn’t be an abomination and I’d get the money since he’d be gone, too.”
His voice was still shaking but he stood up and thrust out his chest. “I had it all figured out. I sent a telegram to Lindsay, and then called the constable.”
I groaned, realizing that that was what Mrs. Cooper and Dina had meant about the doctor. I’d gotten the telegram early Saturday afternoon. When I’d arrived, today, Monday morning, they’d implied that Clara had “died” just yesterday. Gerald had found her “dead” on Sunday and reported it then. As usual, Gerald had messed up and done it in the wrong order. Eventually, he would have been found out. I was pretty sure that both Mrs. C and Dina were aware of this whole set-up.
“So, what now?” I asked with more than a little bravado. I wasn’t too sure I wanted to hear the answer. If this were one of my novels, or a TV show, the “bad guys” would be getting rid of the witnesses. That would be Gerald...and me.
Clara laughed again, obviously enjoying herself. “Dearest Lindsay, you don’t really think I would let anything happen to you?” She folded her hand around mine, giving it a small squeeze. This time, I didn’t draw it back.
“Besides, I’m sure that you wouldn’t mind a few anecdotes from the real world?” She winked at me broadly.
I began to see the possibilities. I could always use more grist for my writing mill. It wasn’t easy to come up with fresh angles for my books. Modern audiences were rather jaded these days. I suppose it was overexposure, but new books were getting harder to write. I’d even resorted to borrowing heavily from classic Greek and Roman tales. An infusion of new blood, so to speak, might be just what I needed. After all, who would ever believe it was real?
Clara stood up abruptly and motioned with her hand. In one swift movement, Jamison was past me and had grabbed Gerald by the arm. He’d been trying to sneak out the back.
He stood there cowering under Clara’s gaze, as Jamison held him immobile. Clara smiled and delicately licked her lips. “I think we can work something out.” She looked at Jamison and laughed, “For the both of you.”
That was three years ago. For some bizarre reason (maybe it was the latest crop of vampire TV shows?) my books were selling like the latest fancy coffee drink at Starbucks. Not that I was complaining. I’d been able to quit my day job and write fulltime now.
I still kept in touch with everyone via e-mail, especially Mrs. Cooper and Dina, who’d bought new computers once my aunt’s will was probated. Clara had been duly “buried” and mourned and her butler had taken over the running of the house.
As for Gerald, Mrs. C reported that everyone in town agreed how very lucky he’d been to be able to obtain a position at Chalfont after his business failed. How kind of Mr. Jamison to think of his late employer’s relation and to offer him the job of valet. And Mr. Gerald with no training, either.
The latest rumor was that a distant cousin of Aunt Clara’s had written to Mr. Jamison. It seems her people had immigrated to New Zealand some time ago, and she’d recently found out about her relatives in England. In fact, she might be coming for a visit soon...
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THE BUTLER DIDN’T DO IT
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