him.
Gerald gazed down, surprised to see his mother in her penguin outfit standing outside the closed doors to the ballroom. Walter was close by and they were talking with two uniformed police officers. For a second, Gerald thought they were party guests. But by the look on his motherâs face, he knew something was wrong.
Vi caught sight of the movement on the stairs and turned her head. âOh, Gerald,â she said, her distress showing through her penguin make-up.
âMum?â Gerald said. âWhat is it?â
Vi put out a hand and leaned on Walter for support. âThe police,â she began. âThey want to talk to you.â
âWhat about?â Geraldâs gut tensed.
The taller of the police took a step forward. His expression was as hard as granite.
âItâs more than just a chat,â he said.
Vi sniffed back a tear. âOh, Gerald,â she sobbed. âThey are going to charge you with the murder of Sir Mason Green!â
Chapter 6
V i hung up the phone in the main drawing room and poured herself another glass from the dark green bottle.
âMr Prisk is on his way,â she said. âGerald, you are to say nothing until he arrives.â
Gerald sat with Sam and Ruby on a long leather couch, growing more frustrated by the second. The thump of the party sounded through the floor from the ballroom below.
âThis is ridiculous,â Gerald said. He turned to the policeman who was standing by the windows. âI keep telling you. You should be looking for the woman who stole the ruby. And how am I supposed to have killed Green anyway? He died of a heart attack in front of a hundred people. You were there, Inspector Parrott. You saw it. Tell him.â
âI must say Iâm surprised by this,â Parrott said, looking as serious as he could while dressed as a blood-splattered zombie. âGerald has alwaysââ Parrott checked himself ââhas mostly been very cooperative with the police in this matter. Constable Lethbridge and I have full faith in him.â Lethbridge, still dressed as a pigeon, went to say something but his voice caught in his throat, and he only managed to make a soft cooing noise. Parrott glared at him, then turned back to the police officer. âExactly what evidence do you have, Inspector Jarvis?â Parrott asked.
The tall policeman clenched his jaw. His voice sounded like he gargled gravel every morning before breakfast. âI have received certain information and I am confident Constable Nelson will turn up specific evidence in her search of the young manâs bedroom. We are well advanced in our investigation.â He cast a dubious eye over Parrott and Lethbridge. âIf we need the services of a six-foot-tall budgerigar, Iâll give you a call.â
âPigeon,â Lethbridge said.
âWhat?â Jarvisâs moustache bristled like a privet hedge full of rabbits.
âIâm a pigeon. Not a budgerigar.â
Parrott hissed, âThat will do, Constable.â
Lethbridge flapped his wings and mumbled to himself. âNever a budgerigarâ¦â
Gerald stood up. âAnd while weâre wasting time here the thief is getting away with the key to the ruby casket.â
The door to the drawing room opened and a young policewoman entered. She was carrying an evidence bag. Gerald could see that it contained a small plastic tube. âIt was right where you said it would be,â Constable Nelson said to Inspector Jarvis.
Jarvisâs eyes flickered. He took the bag and held it up to Gerald. âDo you recognise this?â he asked.
âNo.â
âIt was found in your bedroom closet. I have reason to believe it is part of a blowgun used by you in the assassination of Sir Mason Green.â
âThatâs outrageous!â Vi was furious. âHow can you possiblyââ
âWe have forensic evidence that Sir Mason died from a drug-induced heart
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