Death at a Country Mansion Read online

  “I wonder if I might have a minute?” The white-haired man took a moment to catch his breath. He had a heavy, German accent.

  Floria waited rather impatiently. “How can I help you, sir?”

  “I very much wanted to meet your sisters,” he said, leaning down to peer in through the car window. Floria frowned and adjusted her position so she was blocking his view. She was about to say that it wasn’t possible right now, but then he continued, “I delivered them, you see, in Vienna, thirty-two years ago.”

  Daisy and Floria both stared at him. That was the last thing they’d expected. DI McGuinness, who’d just joined them and overheard what the gentleman had said, was the first to find his tongue. “What is your name, sir?” he asked.

  “Dr. Kurt Bachmann. I’m a retired gynecologist. I worked at Saint Anna Hospital in Vienna when Serena Levanté gave birth to her twins. I remember the day quite clearly.”

  Daisy met Paul’s gaze. If this was true, the doctor could provide some very useful background information on Serena’s past.

  A crowd of reporters had gathered around the limousine and were pressing camera lenses to the windows. Harry revved the vehicle impatiently, no doubt spurred on by Sir Ranulph. Floria made a snap decision. “I’m sorry, Dr. Bachmann. As you can see, we really have to go now, but if you’d like to join us at the reception at Brompton Court, we can talk some more there. How does three o’clock sound?”

  Daisy smiled gratefully at her friend.

  “I’d be delighted,” stammered the old man, visibly moved. “I’ve followed Serena’s career most of my life. I’m a big fan of hers.”

  “Can I give you a lift somewhere?” offered Paul, nodding across the road. “My car is over there and my sergeant is waiting.”

  Daisy watched them walk off, the big detective next to the frail old man. Then she and Floria climbed into the limousine and out of the glare of the cameras. Things were definitely getting more interesting and they hadn’t even had the reading of the will yet. The afternoon promised to be very revealing indeed.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Luncheon at Brompton Court went off without a hitch despite the chaotic preparations. The landscapers had outdone themselves. The smell of freshly cut grass hung over the garden, the moss-free duck pond sparkled invitingly as the newly scrubbed nymph tossed her bucket of water into its mesmerizing depths and the pale façade of the house shimmered in the midday sun.

  “It’s gorgeous,” breathed Mimi as the limousine drove through the gates and up the winding path.

  Donna simply stared, utterly entranced. Daisy winked at Floria. Brompton Court had that effect on one.

  They entered through the front entrance, which bore no resemblance to the crime scene it was only a few days ago. The giant crystal chandelier, polished to perfection by a team of experts, glittered above their heads, while the marble floor sparkled beguilingly. All traces of Serena’s blood and the forensic markers had been thoroughly removed.

  Floria, true to form, had planned everything to perfection. The table setting could have been photographed for a decor magazine, it was so tastefully decorated. Several short, glass vases each holding a single white rose and a bunch of white freesias were positioned along the center of the table on a white linen runner shot through with silver thread. In between the vases were thin, tapered candles, unlit, but providing a cool, understated elegance. Violeta had brought out the fine bone china cutlery, and the cut glass wineglasses perfected the picture.

  The lamb shanks were mouthwateringly tender and served with Moroccan couscous and a light, green salad. The chilled chardonnay, which Daisy always thought tasted better in cut glass, went a long way to help steady their collective nerves. Floria, buoyed up by adrenaline, kept up a constant flow of conversation, helped along by Daisy, who tried to draw out the sisters a bit.

  Donna was the first to open up. She seemed more at ease now it was just the four of them, plus Daisy. Sir Ranulph had opted to eat in his room, announcing that he was fatigued by the service and wanted to rest before the hordes arrived for the reception at three o’clock.

  “That was a lovely ceremony. Thanks, Floria, for organizing. It must have been a lot of work.” Donna had a delightfully soft Austrian accent.

  “I was happy to do it,” beamed Floria. The others may have thought she was being modest, but Daisy knew how much she loved organizing events, and she had a real flair for it too.

  “You played really well,” Mimi told Donna, who blushed.

  “I was so nervous. I was petrified of making a mistake in front of all those people.”

  “I thought you did marvelously well,” said Daisy, and she meant it. Ten years of piano lessons and endless practice hours hadn’t cultivated the raw talent she recognized in Donna.

  Donna smiled. “Thank you.”

  “I did feel a bit like a piece of meat,” said Mimi in her Australian accent, poking her lamb with her fork. “Everyone was gawking at us, like we were from another planet. I saw several people take photographs with their phones. What’s all that about?”

  “That is Serena’s legacy, I’m afraid.” Floria sighed. “You were a secret for so long; now your identities have been revealed, everyone wants to know who you are and what you look like. I’d be surprised if the press don’t start contacting you for interviews.”

  “Heavens,” whispered Donna, appalled. “I don’t think I’d like that.”

  Daisy could see she was a very private person, and the notion of being in the papers scared her to death. “You can always say no,” she said gently.

  “Serena was extremely well-known,” Floria tried to explain. “I’ve grown up in her shadow, so I don’t notice it as much anymore, but it is tiresome having people, particularly the press, judge your every move and criticize you for staying out too late or drinking too much.”

  Daisy knew she was talking from experience. Floria had a long history with the press, thanks to her mother’s fame. In the eyes of the media, she was the spoiled rich girl, Serena’s wild child who acted out for attention. While there might have been some grain of truth in that label at one stage, Floria had moved on and was nowhere near as wild as her reputation suggested. Still, none of her half sisters knew that.

  “Why, just last month one of the tabloids posted a picture of Daisy and me frolicking in a Jacuzzi, and my boyfriend dumped me because he said it made him look bad.”

  “What? He dumped you because of that?” Mimi stared at her uncomprehendingly. “My boyfriend dumped me because I hit him across the stage during a concert.”

  Daisy laughed. The more she got to know Mimi, the more she liked her. “See, I told you James was an asshole,” she said to Floria, who couldn’t help but grin.

  “I can’t match that,” she acknowledged, “but I was really hurt. I felt like the press had destroyed my life.”

  “It sounds like you’d be better off without him.” Mimi sniffed.

  “Hear hear,” echoed Daisy, raising her glass.

  “It’s always going to be like that,” spat Carmen, who hadn’t said a word up until now. Her plate lay untouched in front of her. Her glass, however, had been refilled three times.

  “Now that she’s dead, we’re not going to get a moment’s peace. The press will always be breathing down our necks.”

  “Do you think so?” Donna stared at her as the reality of the situation dawned.

  “It’s not all bad,” said Floria hurriedly. “Serena had a lot of useful connections that will come in handy if you’re in the music industry, which you all are.” She glanced pointedly at Donna. “I know you said you played in an orchestra in Vienna, but if, for example, you wanted to move to England, I could hook you up with some contacts and have you working in no time.” She turned to Carmen. “And you already attracted a lot of attention after your aria in the church. That’s all because of who Serena was.”

  Carmen snorted but knew better than to respond. An uncomfortable silence hung over the table as the sisters got to
grips with their new reality.

  “I’ll be jetting back to Sydney soon, so I don’t care,” said Mimi with a nonchalant shrug of her shoulders. “We have heard about Dame Serena over there, but I doubt anyone will recognize me. Besides, I plan to give myself a makeover before I go back, so hopefully I’ll be incognito, at least until I get my singing career up and running again.”

  “Oh, if you’re having a makeover, you must let Daisy style your hair,” cried Floria, diluting the tension with one expertly delivered sentence. “She’s a genius.”

  Mimi looked uncertain.

  “I own a hair salon.” Daisy smiled reassuringly. She studied Mimi’s rather wild, dark hair. “I’m thinking an edgy French cut with a fringe. It’s very now, perfect for a bourgeoning pop star.”

  Mimi thought about it, then broke into a grin. “I can see that working. Let’s give it a try.”

  “Great!” Floria refilled all their glasses. “I’d like to make a toast. Here’s to Serena, who was a terrible mother, but did one good thing by bringing us all together.”

  * * *

  DI McGuinness came around at a respectable two o’-clock, an hour before the guests were due to arrive for the memorial reception. Everything was ready. Tables containing a delectable range of canapés had been set up in the parlor, a large, spacious room that had doubled as a ballroom or a disco when Serena had been alive. Her parties had been legendary, and many of the guests coming this afternoon would have some wild stories to tell. Caterers had been coming and going all morning; Nellie, the florist, had done a magnificent job with the flower arrangements; and Sam, a technician friend of Floria who’d done the electronics at the memorial service, had set up a microphone for the speeches and the music system, which was set to play all of Serena’s songs on repeat.

  Violeta showed him into the living room, where Floria was regaling her sisters with stories about Serena: her wonderful career and her tumultuous personal life. Daisy, who’d heard most of the anecdotes before, relaxed in an armchair and studied their body language while marveling at the differences in their personalities.

  Floria, as usual, commanded the room. She had them in stitches one minute and staring at her in horror the next; but then, Serena’s antics did have that effect on one. Only Carmen was unmoved. She kept glancing at the door like she wanted to escape through it, but because she was obliged to stay until the will had been read, she was trapped.

  “It’s a nightmare,” Daisy heard her whispering into her phone after lunch. “I don’t want to know how rich she was or how wonderful her life was. I’m glad she’s dead.”

  Donna was quiet and reserved, although clearly emotional at being reunited with her sisters. She said very little about her life in Austria, other than that she played in an orchestra. She was definitely more of a listener than a talker. Perhaps she felt her life was dull compared to theirs. There was a sadness in her eyes, and Daisy remembered Paul saying he thought she’d been crying. Maybe there was something else bothering her other than Serena’s death and the sisters’ subsequent reunion.

  Mimi, on the other hand, was a firebrand and couldn’t be more different from her twin sister. She didn’t hold back and angrily told them the reason she’d sent her boyfriend flying was because he’d been cheating on her with the lead guitarist, a slutty girl called Lilith. “He’s welcome to her,” she hissed, clearly not over him. “She’ll shag anything that moves.”

  “Just like her namesake,” murmured Floria, who’d studied the classics. At Mimi’s dark look she hurried to add, “She was a mythical creature representing ungodliness and chaos.” She left off “and seduction.”

  “Sounds about right,” huffed Mimi.

  “Hello, Inspector,” Daisy said as Paul entered the room. He wore the same smart trousers as he had at the church minus the jacket, with his sleeves rolled up and a determined expression on his face. Casual yet authoritative. Floria stopped talking, and all three sisters turned toward him. He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry to interrupt your reunion, but would it be all right if I asked the girls a few questions?”

  “I am not being interrogated.” Carmen jumped up. “I know my rights.”

  “I’m afraid you have no choice, Miss Vega. If you refuse, I’ll have to arrest you and take you to the police station, where we’ll conduct the interview in more formal surroundings.”

  Donna gasped.

  Carmen glared at him but sat down.

  If looks could kill, thought Daisy.

  “They weren’t even in the country when Serena was murdered,” said Floria’s friend Greg, the solicitor who was also executor of Serena’s will. He’d just arrived and cut a dashing figure in a dove-gray suit with a crisp white shirt underneath. It went well with his dark, blond hair and intelligent blue eyes. Daisy noticed Donna suddenly perk up. “What bearing could they possibly have on the case?”

  Daisy got to her feet and stood beside Paul in a show of support. “It’s just routine, Greg. Don’t get your legal knickers in a twist.”

  Greg rolled his eyes at her, then smiled at everybody else. “Glad to see you’re all getting on.”

  “Daisy will sit in on the interviews,” Paul announced, gazing around the room, daring anyone to contradict him. “That way it won’t be so intimidating.”

  “Putting your studies to good use, Daisy?” Greg grinned, glancing from her to the detective and back again. She shot him a warning glance. Mimi and Donna both nodded, happy with that. Carmen sat stony-faced, saying nothing.

  “Who wants to go first?” asked Paul.

  “I will,” said Mimi, uncurling from the couch and stretching like a cat. “May as well get it over with.”

  Daisy glanced at Floria. “Can we use the library?” It wasn’t so much a library as a game room, complete with a billiards and a poker table and a fully stocked bar. Daisy had spent many a debauched night in there with Floria and her friends. It was a warm, comforting room, not intimidating in the slightest, which would help to relax the girls.

  “Of course.”

  Daisy led the way, Paul on her heels and Mimi a few steps behind.

  “Wow, I’ll bet you’ve had some fun times in here.” Mimi took in the ornately curved bar at one end, the full-size billiard table in the center and the card tables at the other end. A compact, digital sound system sat on a narrow table beneath the window with a small but powerful speaker positioned next to it. An open dartboard cabinet hung on the opposite wall under which the snooker cues were stacked in a custom-made rack. A fluorescent billiard table light on two chains hung above the table, but it was off. Daisy laughed and turned on a light above the bar. “You bet.” She pointed to the poker table. “Shall we?”

  Paul nodded, and they sat down. He took out a small, leather-bound notepad and a pen, and looked at Mimi. “I understand your surname is Turner, is that correct?”

  Mimi nodded. “That’s my adopted surname, the name on my passport.”

  Paul nodded. “It’s just so I get it straight.”

  Daisy smiled at her. “How did you react when Greg called you out of the blue and told you about Serena?”

  Mimi’s shoulders stiffened. “I was shocked. I had no idea I was adopted, let alone by a famous opera singer. I confronted my mother, who admitted it was true. We had the most awful row.”

  Daisy grimaced sympathetically. “I’m sorry to hear that. Do you think your mother had a reason for not telling you?”

  “If she did, she didn’t say what it was.” Mimi’s expression turned sullen. “I’m not sure I can forgive her for lying to me all these years.”

  “I’m sure she only did what she thought was best.” Daisy glanced at Paul, who gave her a little nod. He was happy to let her continue for the moment. He wasn’t interviewing the girls under caution; it was merely to rule them out as suspects.

  Mimi grunted. “You know, I had a long time to think about things on the flight over here, and it’s all starting to make sense.”

  “What is?” Daisy asked
.

  “Why I’m so different from my parents. They were both teachers, quiet and studious. They never made a fuss about anything. I was the one who was always acting up, the one who didn’t play by the rules. My father tried to discipline me, but it only made things worse. I rebelled, got into the wrong crowd, became even more wild.” She lowered her head. “Until he gave up on me. I was a huge disappointment to him.”

  “What about your mother?” Daisy prompted, feeling sorry for Mimi. It was clear she had inherited Serena’s drive and spirit, the two qualities that had been instrumental in her becoming a star but could be difficult in an unhappy teenager.

  “Mother never contradicted him, although I suppose in her own way she tried to help me. She used to call me every week, knowing I’d rarely pick up. She’d offer me money, which I never took.”

  “It sounds like she really cared for you.”

  Mimi gazed at her, her eyes hard. “You’d think so, but then she kept this hidden from me my whole life when it would have helped me understand why I was so different.”

  “So your parents are still alive?” The question came from Paul, who’d been studying Mimi intently.

  “My father passed away several years ago, but my mother’s still alive.”

  He nodded, then changed tack. “Can you confirm which flight you took to London?”

  Mimi frowned. “I can’t remember the actual flight number, but it was Qantas Airways and it left Wednesday night from Sydney airport. I have the boarding pass in my bag somewhere; if you’d like to see it?”

  “That won’t be necessary, thank you.” He already knew which flight she’d been on; he was just checking. Besides, he’d seen her get off the plane at Heathrow. “Just one more thing: Did you know about the Modigliani?”

  “The painting? No. Floria told us it was stolen the night Serena was killed, but prior to that I didn’t know it existed.”

  He nodded, then glanced at Daisy. “Anything else?”

  She shook her head. “No, I think that’s it. Thanks, Mimi. You’ve been very helpful. I’m sorry all this has opened such a can of worms for you back home.”