The Christie Caper - Carolyn Hart [94]
Kathryn Honeycutt knew, too. She held up both hands, as if to block her nephew’s words.
“My second wife, Pamela. Fell down and broke her crown—actually, her neck—about ten o’clock one night. She was expecting company.” Bledsoe’s eyes flicked over the platform steps where Nathan Hillman stood. “Cops think maybe she was going to meet a lover and hurried too fast down the stone steps. And now, all that’s left of Pamela is this spooky scream on Sunday nights. Hell of a deal.”
People looked toward him, uncertain whether to commiserate or laugh. A tragic tale, if true. But surely, the tone in his voice—
Kathryn Honeycutt’s lips quivered. She didn’t look like Miss Marple now. Instead, Annie thought again of poor Dolly Bantry, distraught over the ugly rumors swirling around her dear Arthur, suspected of murdering the blonde in their library. “Neil, Neil—I wouldn’t have thought even you could be so heartless. I’ve just had enough. You’ve ruined my holiday. I’m going home in the morning.” Tears spilled down her pale cheeks. She turned and hurried away.
Bledsoe reached out, as if to stop her, then dropped his hand and shrugged. His dark eyes glittered.
Lady Gwendolyn swept toward him. People parted to make way for the small, plump, determined figure. Her hand swept up, the sapphire flashing on a pudgy finger as she tapped Bledsoe on the chest. The old author’s bell-like voice carried throughout the room. “Young man, the mills of the gods grind slow, but they grind exceedingly fine.”
“No wonder people are trying to kill that man!” Annie exclaimed. “I may lead the pack before long.” She dropped into a wicker chair in their living room and stared without favor at the two blue-backed folders on the coffee table. “Lady Gwendolyn strikes again,” Annie muttered. She picked one up. “Honest to God, if it were just Bledsoe, I wouldn’t even try to find out who wants to kill him.” She opened the folder. A five-by-seven class photo of John Border Stone looked up at her. Annie bit her lip. Stone’s plump cheeks spread in a happy smile. But it wasn’t just Bledsoe. Not anymore.
“Time to get to work,” she said crisply, thumbing through the bio on Bledsoe.
Max nuzzled the back of her neck. “All work and no play make Jack a dull boy.”
Annie shook her head. “Max, we need to read these before—”
His hands slipped over her shoulders.
Annie held onto the folder for a moment more. Duty called.
But so did love.
The folder slipped to the floor.
Five A.M. was not an hour Annie enjoyed.
Max kept tugging at the sheet. “Annie, Lady Gwendolyn called. They’re all arriving in just half an hour.”
“Ughmmph.”
“Annie, we didn’t read the bios last night.”
She was too sleepy to point out the responsibility for that.
Another fifteen minutes, two cups of coffee, a glass of orange juice, a too-brief shower, and she was awake enough to glower at the door as the busboy arrived, a contingent of disgustingly bright-eyed investigators right behind him.
It was a hearty feast spread on the buffet. Annie studied one dish with especial care.
“Kedgeree,” Laurel said carelessly.
“What?”
“Kedgeree, of course.” Laurel with a Brit accent was nauseating before breakfast. “A mixture of smoked haddock, hard-boiled eggs, and rice. A glorious by-product of our colonial days.” Those dark blue eyes widened ingenuously. “From India.” She scooped a heaping serving onto her plate. Annie hoped it resulted in deserved indigestion. “And these Singin’ Hinnies are especially delicious,” Laurel murmured.
Annie had to admit there was plenty for everyone to enjoy. She opted for the grilled tomatoes, French toast served with raspberries and cream, and a sausage turnover, and if anyone thought that a curious assortment, so be it. At five A.M., both body and soul required substantial sustenance.
Lady Gwendolyn beamed at the heaping plates. Her own bore a barely balanced mound of golden brown crumpets, which almost made Annie rethink her choices. But she wasn’t tempted in the slightest by the old lady’s strong amber-colored breakfast tea.
Annie wondered if Lady Gwendolyn and