Page 104 of Death at a Highland Wedding
“Oh my,” I say.
“Indeed.” He grins wickedly. “The scandal of the year, made even more delicious because no one knew who the young man…” He trails off and blinks at Gray. “Ezra?”
Gray rolls his shoulders in discomfort. “I walked in on Archie giving Ezra a proper dressing-down over it.”
“A dressing-down?” I say. “Over getting caught?”
“No, Archie was angry with Ezra for carrying on with a maid and getting her fired.”
“Oh.”
Gray sighs. “Yes, Archie is not the boor I might like him to be. As for Ezra, he was very contrite. Said he did care for the girl. Promised to help her find a new position. It really seemed a youthful mistake.”
“One that he might have repeated here,” I say. “With Lenore.” I remember when McCreadie had talked about Sinclair’s popularity with women. Gray had been quiet, as if thinking. He’d also been the one who made sure we kept maids on the list of women Sinclair might have been seeing the night of his murder.
I continue, “Ezra had a past affair—apparently a romantic one—with a young woman in domestic service. He starts another one, realizes he’s repeating the error, and ends the relationship.”
“But by then Müller knows of it,” McCreadie says. “Lenore and Ezra could not carry on an affair in the house, especially when her mother is the housekeeper. There are several unused cottages about, and Lenore would have an extensive knowledge of the property. The same property that is now Müller’s domain. He caught them.”
“Proving Ezra reallyhadn’tlearned his lesson,” I mutter. “But that might also have been his wake-up call. Müller catches them, and Ezra realizes what kind of trouble he could cause for Lenore, so he ends the affair. But Müller has evidence. Blackmail loot. A ring and a hair ribbon, which Lenore could have laid aside during their liaison and then forgotten in her haste. She might even have forgotten her bloomers. Grabs her dress and what undergarments she can find and misses those.”
McCreadie nods. “Müller takes the ring and hair ribbon and tears a piece off the bloomers. He hides them in case he needs Ezra’s support.”
“Which he does after the wildcat incident,” I say. “We’ve wondered why Ezra stuck up for Müller. This explains it. The question is whether it’s connected to Ezra’s murder.”
I glance at Gray, who’s gone quiet again, listening as McCreadie and I hammer it out.
“I believe,” Gray says, “that the question is not how it could be connected but how do we sort through all the possible ways it could be connected.”
“Good point,” I murmur. “This opens up the possibility that Ezra was indeed the target. He could have told Müller he couldn’t help him anymore—blackmail or no blackmail. They argue, and as he walks away, Müller kills him. We could also be looking at Lenore. Or her brother, Gavin. Ezra could have been carrying the shillelagh as a walking stick—his prints were on it. Violet also comes back into play—what if theywereinvolved? She discovers the affair with Lenore and confronts him. He turns around, and she hits him.”
“Violet said the nighttime meeting was to cheer her up,” Gray murmurs. “And you overheard him tell Fiona something similar.”
“Well, no, I overheard him asking Fiona to do it because he couldn’t. But that might have just been a cover-up. Hiding their relationship.”
“Whether friends or lovers, they cannot easily speak in private. Also, what if they were also meeting to discusshisproblems?”
I turn to look at him. “The blackmail. Archie is hell-bent on firing Müller, and that’s a problem.”
“I am not certain he would tell Violet about his affair with a maid,” McCreadie says. “But he could say that Müller is blackmailing him and ask for Violet’s advice. Or ask for her help talking her brother out of firing Müller.”
“The problem is the note,” I say. “The maid’s recollection of it is definitely romantic. We need to speak to her tomorrow.”
Gray looks over. “What do we know about the maid?”
“Uh…” McCreadie says. “Which one is she?”
I roll my eyes. “As a former maid, might I request that you esteemed gents actually ask their names? Learn who is who?”
“I always ask names,” McCreadie says. “Which is better than Duncan here. We once spent a week at the seaside, in a house with four maids, and at the end, he was shocked to learn there was more than one.”
“They all had a similar mien,” Gray says. “Also, while I understand Mallory’s point, in our defense, it is not always wise to admit you have remembered their name. It suggests undue and unwelcome interest.”
“And we are not Ezra.” McCreadie makes a face. “That was unkind and judgmental. A man in his social position might well look to a shopgirl—or even a maid from a good family—for a wife.”
Maybe, but Lenore isn’t just a maid. She’s in her late teens, making Sinclair more than a decade older. That’s a double misuse of power. It doesn’t mean he realized the imbalance, though.
“The maid’s name is Dorothy,” I say, getting back on topic. “That’s really all I know. In my current position, I seem to float in a strange nether realm, neither fish nor fowl, staff nor guest.”
