Read Online Lucy and the Valentine Verdict by Rae Davies - Free Book Online Page A

man.”
    “How would you know?” Lady York asked,
clearly trying to reflect the implied accusation back on the
spinster.
    Even with no cards, I could take this one.
“She’s a botanist.” Which meant Lady York’s efforts might not be
off the mark. Under Miss Claythorne’s name I wrote, Means:
Botanist Monkshood . But I had no motive... whereas with this
new information there was both a potential motive and means for
Lady York.
    I checked my list.
    Mr. Blore:
Motive:
Affair Means: had access to martini glass.
    Lady York:
Motive:
Affair Means: brought monkshood to the party.
    Sir Arthur Cannon:
Motive: None yet. Means: Spent time in
Africa
, if we were going with a classic Agatha Christie murder
weapon.
    Under Miss Claythorne’s listing, I added a
note about her giving Mrs. Peabody the pill. With this new
monkshood information, that seemed like a red herring, but you
never knew.
    Emily Brent:
Motive: Obvious disapproval of Mrs. Peabody’s lifestyle.
Possible past connection? Means:... I suddenly remembered the
flower pressed inside her Bible. I looked around, wondering if
anyone else had this piece of information. To be fair, I probably
should have shared it... Instead I scribbled it down and kept my
mouth closed for now.
    Dr. Armstrong:
Motive: None yet. Means: He was a doctor.
    Mandrake Raven:
Motive: None yet. Means: Handed Mrs. Peabody her empty martini
glass.
    He also had seemed to be working hard to pin
the crime on Maid Ann.
    While I had been reading and editing my
notes, the others had been doing the same. One by one we lifted our
heads and assessed the suspects. Which meant we were all giving
each other the hairy eyeball.
    Mrs. Peabody twittered. “Everyone gets so
intense during these things.”
    Her (real) husband frowned, but she just
waved her hand at him and settled back in to continue watching.
    “Ms. Brent,” I said, deciding to pursue my
most promising lead. “You haven’t told us much about yourself. What
brought you to the party?”
    She blinked. “My husband died a few months
ago. Friends suggested a weekend away would do me good.”
    My first instinct was to apologize for her
loss and my nosiness which had prompted her to speak of it. Then,
once again, I remembered... play-acting...
    “Oh, that is horrible. How did he die?”
    “Heart failure.”
    “Wait.” Mandrake stepped forward. “George
Brent? The survivalist?”
    Ms. Brent nodded her head.
    Mandrake looked at me and then around the
room. “Didn’t you hear the story? It was all over the newspapers.
George Brent was a world-famous survivalist. But last fall he ate
some poisonous plant...” He spun and stared at Ms. Brent.
    Everyone scribbled furiously.
    Her Bible clutched against her shirt, Ms.
Brent took on a defensive stance. “It was an accident. He kept it
for medicinal uses, but somehow his supplies got messed up and a
tiny bit was mixed in with parsnips.” She dropped her head and
murmured a prayer.
    “But if he was world-famous for his
skills...” I prompted.
    She turned on me. “Things happen, Maid Ann.
When the Lord calls you home, you do not get a recall.”
    I wasn’t sure how that answered my question,
but before I could push further, Peter raised a hand. “I remember
the case. Ms. Brent was questioned, but her reputation was stellar
and they could find no evidence that she was involved.”
    Uh huh . I put a star next to her
name.
    I had other leads to wind up though. I
changed my attention to Miss Claythorne. “What about you? Did you
know Mrs. Peabody before this evening? You mentioned that you
worked for a pharmaceutical company, and she was talking about some
new weight loss drug she’d been trying. Were you involved with that
at all?”
    Miss Claythorne looked down her nose. “Most
certainly not. I would never be involved with something so
tawdry.”
    I wrote snot next to her name.
    Mrs. Peabody leaned over. “In real life too.
You should have heard her bossing Mandrake around yesterday.”
    “Miss