Death at a Country Mansion Page 4

  “Thank you,” mumbled Floria.

  “Krish, can you take over for a sec? I want to make Floria a cup of tea in the back. She looks like she needs one.”

  “I’m okay,” insisted Floria. “I just popped in to say hi. I can see you guys are busy.”

  “Nonsense, go and have a brew,” ordered Krish, taking the brush from Daisy. “Yvette doesn’t mind, do you, love?”

  Daisy didn’t hear Yvette’s reply as she shepherded Floria into the tiny kitchenette. As soon as they were out of sight, she turned to her friend. “I’m sorry about all that. Everybody wants to find out what happened. This is the most exciting thing that’s happened in Edgemead for decades.” She frowned as she took in Floria’s grim expression. “But tell me, how are you holding up?”

  The two of them had stayed up late last night, drinking wine and talking about Serena. Floria’s relationship with her mother had been tumultuous at best and she’d needed to vent. The emotions of the day had unlocked far more than grief.

  “I can’t help feeling I should be more upset she’s dead,” Floria had said at one point during the evening. “Do you think there’s something wrong with me?”

  “Of course not,” Daisy was quick to reassure her. “Let’s face it, Serena wasn’t a mother to you. She was a celebrity who flitted in and out of your life. When you were a baby, she abandoned you to nannies and housekeepers, and when you were old enough, she shipped you off to boarding school. You never had a relationship with her, so it’s hard to feel anything now that she’s gone.”

  Floria thought about that for a moment. “You know, if you ever want a change in career, you’d make a great shrink.”

  “Why do you think I’m studying forensic psychology?” Daisy’s eyes gleamed. “I love analyzing people.”

  “You wouldn’t leave the salon, would you?” asked Floria worriedly. “I know how much this place means to you.”

  “God, no, but I might take on some extra work, like helping the police profile suspects, that sort of thing. I’ve always found it fascinating.”

  Floria tilted her head to the side. “I can see you doing that, and you’re right about what you said about Mother and me. All she was ever interested in was her singing career. I don’t think she loved me at all.” Her friend’s lip quivered, but she kept it together. Daisy knew how hard it was for her to accept that. “I can’t remember her coming to one sports day or school performance. Not one. What kind of mother doesn’t do that?”

  “It’s unforgivable,” Daisy acknowledged. Floria didn’t mind her being so direct. They’d spoken about Serena many times before, and in Daisy’s opinion, the neglect and plain disinterest she’d shown her daughter over the years was abominable. “If it helps, I don’t think she even knew who I was.”

  Floria laughed, rather too easily. “No, she was even less interested in my friends.” She took another gulp of the bordeaux and looked Daisy in the eye. “You know what? I’m not sorry she’s dead. She was a horrible woman and a terrible mother. I won’t mourn her.”

  It was the wine talking. Deep down, Daisy knew her friend was devastated. Serena had been a true star. Her phenomenal voice had brought joy to millions of people, and her albums still topped the classical music charts. Her vivacious and tempestuous personality had enthralled and shocked the press and public alike, and her strikingly beautiful face had adorned the pages of all the glossy magazines at one time or another. Her loss would be felt all over the music industry, if not by her own family.

  Daisy put on the kettle and got down two cups and saucers from the shelf. “So, did the inspector say anything else?”

  Floria shook her head. “No, but he wants to meet me at the Scout hall at three o’clock. Apparently, he has some news.”

  “That sounds promising, but why the Scout hall?”

  “That’s where they’ve set up shop.”

  “I see.” She supposed they had to have an incident room somewhere. Edgemead didn’t even have its own police station—they used the one in Esher—but the nearest criminal investigation department was probably Guildford, about fourteen miles and a good half hour’s drive away. She put two tea bags into the cups and filled them up with boiling water. Then she got the milk out of the fridge.

  Floria grabbed her arm. “Will you come with me, Dais? I don’t think I can face him alone. He’s so intimidating. Just the way he looks at me makes me feel guilty, and I’ve done nothing wrong.”

  Daisy chortled. “He’s not so bad.”

  “Please?”

  “I’ll try. We’ve been pretty manic today; more so than usual. I think everyone has come here to find out what happened.”

  Floria shook her head. “Murder is good for business.”

  “That it is.” Daisy finished making the tea and handed her friend a cup. “Get that down you. It’ll make you feel better.”

  Floria gripped the handle without taking a sip. “I wonder what news DI McGuinness has? Nothing bad, I hope. I don’t think I could stomach any more bad news.”

  “If it’s a development, it can only be good news.” Daisy forced a smile. “It means they are that much closer to catching who did this.”

  “I hope so,” muttered Floria, finally taking a sip. She shut her eyes momentarily, savoring the sweetness. “God, I needed this.”

  “I was thinking,” said Daisy. “There are only a handful of people who knew Serena was alone that night. Tatiana, Violeta and Pepe and Collin.”

  Floria perked up. “DI McGuinness said there was no sign of a break-in, so either the murderer had a key or Mother let him in of her own free will.”

  Daisy leaned back against the countertop. “So, either way, she knew her attacker.”

  “Do you think it was one of them?” whispered Floria. The hand holding the teacup trembled ever so slightly.

  “I know the police are looking at Tatiana and her boyfriend—Sergio, I think his name is. I had her in here earlier, frightened out of her wits. Apparently, they’d been questioned all night.”

  “Really? But why would they want to hurt Mother?” Daisy pursed her lips. “It may not have been intentional. Perhaps she interrupted them?”

  Floria frowned. “It’s possible, I suppose. One thing I know for sure is that Violeta and Pepe wouldn’t be capable of something like this.”

  Daisy nodded.

  Floria continued pensively, “Which leaves Collin.”

  “Except he was away, according to Violeta.”

  Floria sighed. “Okay, so maybe they are on the right track with Tatiana and her boyfriend.”

  They stared at each other for a long moment, then Floria gasped. “Oh, Lord. I remember something else.”

  “What?”

  “Something Greg said.”

  “Greg? Your friend, Greg?”

  “Yes, he’s Mother’s solicitor and the executor of her estate. He also called me this morning. Apparently, Mother had made an appointment to change her will.”

  Daisy slowly put down her cup. “Floria, that is an important piece of information. Don’t you see? She calls Greg to change her will and the day before her appointment, she’s murdered.”

  Floria grabbed the fridge for support. “It’s related, isn’t it?”

  Daisy felt a surge of adrenaline. “Maybe. I don’t know yet, but it’s a hell of a coincidence, don’t you think? Did Greg say why she wanted to change it?”

  Floria grimaced. “No, he didn’t, and I don’t even know what’s in her current will. He hasn’t shown me a copy yet. Apparently, there are a few things he has to take care of first. It’s all very mysterious.”

  Daisy frowned. “Hmm . . . I wonder who stands to inherit? You, obviously, but what about Collin?” She gasped as a thought occurred to her.

  “What?” Floria nearly spilled her tea.

  “I wonder if Serena was going to cut Collin out of her will? We know they were having marital problems. She’d been unfaithful before and he had a lover, the air hostess. Things were hardly ideal betwe
en them.”

  “Far from it. They fought like cats and dogs,” muttered Floria.

  Daisy’s forehead furrowed. “How is this for a theory? Collin wanted to divorce her, but he knew he wouldn’t inherit anything if he did. Stealing the painting could have been a ruse, a ploy to distract attention away from himself.”

  “Do you think so?” Floria’s voice trembled. “If she divorced him, he wouldn’t get a penny. They signed a prenup. Greg told me at their wedding.”

  “Exactly! So, he killed her first.”

  Floria stared at her. “We’ve got to tell DI McGuinness.”

  * * *

  The Scout hall was situated on the outskirts of the village. It took the form of a modern, wooden barn with a garage-style, roll-up door painted olive green. It backed onto a large meadow, with sleepy cows grazing in it. Beyond that, the Thames flowed idly by, curving through the landscape like a thick, silver ribbon. It was an ideal location for little boys and girls to explore the outdoors. As a teenager, Daisy had joined the Girl Guides and spent many a happy summer making friends and participating in activities outdoors and on the river. She’d learned canoeing and sailing, how to administer first aid, and how to read a map, plus it got her out of the house and away from her golf-obsessed parents who, quite frankly, wouldn’t have cared what she’d done as long as it got her out from under their noses.

  The garage door was half open, so they bent down and slipped underneath. The familiar smell of pine and chalk transported her back to those hazy summer days, and she took a moment to soak it all in: the vibrant maps and nature posters on the walls, the well-worn floorboards and the beams in the rafters that had seemed so high when she was young but were actually quite average.

  DI McGuinness was in earnest conversation with a tall, handsome man with ash-blond hair at the front of the hall and hadn’t noticed them yet.

  “Hello, Inspector,” Daisy called out. “Do you mind if we come in?”

  He spun around. “Miss Thorne, you shouldn’t be here. This is our incident room. It’s off-limits to the public.”

  “Greg? What are you doing here?” Floria walked forward and gave her old friend a hug. His response was lackluster. “What’s wrong?”

  “I was just talking to DI McGuinness about the matter of your mother’s will,” he said, clearly uncomfortable. He couldn’t meet her gaze.

  Daisy joined them, ignoring the pained look from McGuinness. There was a large photograph of Serena pinned to a whiteboard at the front of the hall, along with a smaller one of her dead body as it had been found at the foot of the stairs. It was the first time Daisy had seen the crime scene, and she found she couldn’t drag her eyes away from it.

  Serena was fully dressed in a tight skirt and a blouse stained with what could be blood or red wine, but probably the former. Violeta had said it was a whiskey bottle that had been found on the landing. When Serena was on a binge, that was her drink of choice. The unnatural angle of her neck was the telltale sign. Her vacant eyes stared up at the ceiling, or perhaps at the landing where her assailant had stood. The look on her face was one of abject horror.

  Daisy shuddered. Floria hadn’t seen it yet; she was too preoccupied with Greg’s strange behavior. Beside the photographs, the detective had written down their suspects. Daisy perused the list. Along with the obvious ones Daisy and Floria had discussed, he’d added all three of Serena’s ex-husbands.

  Hmm . . . Why them? As far as Daisy knew, there was no bad blood between Serena and any of her exes, but then, McGuinness didn’t know that. He was probably covering the bases.

  “We heard she wanted to change it.” Daisy’s eyes were still on the board.

  DI McGuinness angled himself so he blocked her line of sight.

  Greg replied, “Yes, that’s true, but she didn’t, so the current will and testament still stands.”

  “Is there something wrong with it?” Floria asked. When he didn’t respond, she tugged his arm. “Greg, this is me. Please tell me what’s going on.”

  Greg glanced at DI McGuinness, who sighed and gave a small nod.

  “There’s something I have to tell you, Floria, and I fear it’s going to come as a shock.”

  “Oh, for goodness’ sake. What is it?” Daisy was losing patience. The anticipation was killing her.

  “Okay, here goes.” He turned Floria to face him, placing his hands on her shoulders. “You weren’t Serena’s only child, Flo. She had three illegitimate daughters before you were born.”

  “What?” cried Floria and Daisy simultaneously.

  Greg took a step back and put up his hands. “I’m sorry. I wanted to tell you so many times, but I was sworn to secrecy by Serena. It was part of our client confidentiality agreement. I would have been sacked if I’d said anything.”

  Floria was at a loss for words. She was mouthing like a guppy. Daisy couldn’t blame her. She’d just discovered she had three half sisters. It was unbelievable. Even Daisy found it hard to grasp, but she found her tongue first. “Where are these women now?”

  “That’s what I’ve been trying to do since Serena’s death, but tracking them down hasn’t been easy. One lives in Australia, the other Spain and the third Austria. They’re scattered all over the globe.”

  “I have three sisters?” Floria looked like she might faint.

  An only child herself, Daisy could imagine the myriad of emotions her friend must be feeling. She maneuvered her to the nearest chair. “Here, sit down for a moment.” Floria flopped into it like a rag doll.

  She shook her head from side to side, making her blond curls bounce. “I don’t believe it. How could Mother have kept this a secret all these years?”

  “Half sisters,” corrected Greg, a stickler for detail. “I have now managed to contact all three of them and they’re flying to London in the next few days. It was your mother’s wish that they all attend her funeral, followed by the reading of the will.”

  “Memorial service,” corrected McGuinness. “We haven’t released the body yet.”

  “Do they all stand to inherit?” asked Daisy, thinking her suspect list was growing by the minute.

  “I’m afraid I can’t say,” Greg replied.

  The inspector’s eyes seemed overly bright. Daisy tilted her head to the side. “But you know, don’t you, Inspector?”

  He gave her a hard glare. “Of course I know, but I had to get a warrant.”

  What she would do to find out! They had to assume all three illegitimate sisters were going to inherit part of Serena’s vast fortune, otherwise why had Serena requested their presence? Although Floria wasn’t thinking about that. “I can’t believe I’ve got three sisters,” she whispered, staring into the middle distance like she was in a trance.

  Daisy hugged her, bringing her back to reality. “I’m so happy for you, Floria. This is wonderful news.” She turned to Greg. “Do they know Serena is—sorry, was—their mother?”

  He scratched his chin. “Two definitely didn’t know. I think it shocked the hell out of them. The third, the Spanish one, she might have known. She didn’t sound all that surprised, although she wasn’t interested in coming to the memorial service. I had to tell her it was nonnegotiable.”

  “Another three suspects for your list, Inspector.” Daisy nodded toward the whiteboard. DI McGuinness didn’t reply.

  “What are their names?” Floria’s voice trembled. Daisy could see she was desperate for information, and who wouldn’t be? For thirty years she’d grown up believing she was an only child, only to discover she had three half sisters who, right now, were preparing to come to London.

  “Why don’t you and Greg go for a drink?” Daisy suggested. Then to Greg, “I’m sure Floria could use one after that bombshell.”

  Greg nodded, eager to make up for withholding the information from Floria. “Great idea. My car’s out front.”

  “You can tell me all about it later.” Daisy gave Floria’s hand a squeeze. “I’ve got to get back to the salon.”

 
; Once they’d left, Daisy turned to DI McGuinness. “Well, that was a bombshell.”

  He didn’t react. “Is there something else I can help you with, Miss Thorne?”

  He was a hard nut to crack. Personally, she didn’t think it would hurt to be a bit friendlier. She flashed him her brightest smile and said, “I know you’re busy, but we have a theory you might like to hear.”

  DI McGuinness sank his lanky form into the chair previously occupied by Floria. There were shadows under his eyes, and he had the beginnings of a five-o’clock shadow. She was willing to bet he’d pulled an all-nighter. She knew from watching reality TV how important the first twenty-four hours in a murder investigation were.

  “Go ahead, Miss Thorne. I’m all ears.”

  “Please, call me Daisy. ‘Miss Thorne’ makes me sound like a schoolteacher.”

  He acknowledged her request with a little tilt of his head.

  She perched on the edge of a desk, her long legs stretched out in front of her. “So, Greg mentioned to Floria that Serena wanted to change her will. Now granted, we didn’t know about her three illegitimate daughters at the time, but we were wondering if she might have wanted to cut Collin out of her will. They were having marital problems, you see. Both had had or were having affairs. Perhaps she was planning to divorce him?”

  McGuinness studied her, his eyes narrowed. “And you think he found out about it, which gave him a motive for killing her?”

  Some of the wind went out of Daisy’s sails. “You’ve already thought of that, haven’t you?”

  He gave a small grin, the first she’d seen. It made his face far less severe, and she liked the way his eyes crinkled at the edges.

  She asked, “Did Greg say what Serena wanted to change?”

  The inspector stood up. “Unfortunately, no. She didn’t specify. But she could have intended to cut her three illegitimate daughters out of the will, which would give them a motive too.”

  Daisy got to her feet too. “Except none of them were in London at the time of the murder.”

  His expression turned thoughtful. “None that we know of, but Spain and Austria are only a short flight away. I always expect the unexpected. Granted, Australia is more of a stretch. We can probably discount that one.”