“Did you fall on your head? Your father died of a heart attack. Everybody knows that.” Kenneth got up and paced in front of him, staring at Leonard as if seeing him for the first time.
“No, he did not. That is what I let everybody believe, but it is not so. Kenneth, my father was murdered. I have known for a long time...” He wrapped his arms around his legs and rested his head on his knees as he looked at his friend. “I found out shortly after he passed away. A day or two perhaps. I cannot be sure. At that time, I was still a grieving son. I did not yet know what my father was truly like.” He thought back to the day that changed everything, wishing it hadn’t happened. “The physician came to see me, and he told me that the furnisher told him, upon preparing my father for burial, he noticed unusual signs on his body. Signs that spoke of poisoning.”
“Poisoning?” Kenneth said as if he had not heard him right.
“Yes. The physician asked me to perform an autopsy to confirm his suspicions. Naturally, I said no. I did not want my father to be viewed in such a way. But something inside me, I do not know what, told me that I had to do it. I had to let them do it to find out for certain. So, an autopsy was carried out in secret. And the physician’s views were confirmed. It turned out that Mr. Sterling was right. My father had been poisoned. With arsenic. Mr. Sterling said it might have been administered through food or drink, but he could not be certain. I…”
Kenneth dropped onto his knees and sat there, completely pale as he listened. When he spoke again, his voice was drowned out by disbelief.
“But arsenic, are you certain it was murder? It could have been anything. It could have been an accident.”
“That is what I told myself. I could not imagine anyone would have wanted to harm my wonderful, loving father, for at the time that is what I still thought of him. But then I remembered the conversation that took place some weeks before his death. I had come upon him in his study, he reeked of spirits, which was unusual for him. When I woke him, he screamed in terror. He said that they were coming for him, they would kill him. That I had to stop them. I dismissed it as a bad dream, and the following morning when I asked him about it, he did not remember anything.” Leonard shuddered as he thought of the evening.
Kenneth dropped his chin, his fingernails scratching as they rubbed over his stubble. “You think he drank because he was scared someone would come and kill him?”
“I do not know. He always drank a lot... but anyway... I remembered that on that very night, he was drinking one of the bottles from Portugal. He’d been drinking Portuguese wine since he came back, a new badge... I thought perhaps it was in the bottle, so I went to look for it, to see if somehow we could test it - but it was gone.” Leonard pursed his lips and shifted uncomfortably, trying to find the right words to convey the weight of his revelation.
“I can’t explain it any other way. He wasn’t one to drink a lot, and he never got so drunk as to forget himself. Combined with what the physician found, that tells me it had to be true. The circumstances are just too odd. My father was murdered...”
Kenneth gasped, his eyes widening in shock. “Do you have any idea who might have done such a thing?”
Leonard shook his head solemnly. “No, I don’t. I tried ... It is how I first ended up going to Portugal, Spain and the other vineyards after I found my mother’s diaries. I wanted to see if others had seen this ugly side of him.”
“That is why you ended up going there. I thought it was solely because of your mother’s diary. I thought it was odd that you had such an interest in seeing the place for yourself. Now it makes sense.” Kenneth said, recovered somewhat from the shock.
“Yes, that is why. That is also when I discovered just how rotten my father was. Truly, I am not surprised someone sought to kill him,” Leonard said, shocked by his own words.
Kenneth’s brows furrowed with concern. “But shouldn’t you inform the constables? If a nobleman was murdered, surely there must be an investigation.”
A bitter laugh escaped Leonard’s lips. “Of course not. You know what sort of scandal that would have been. Besides, an investigation would only lead to questions, and then my father’s true character would be exposed. His abuse of my mother would also come to light.”
Kenneth nodded slowly, understanding the gravity of the situation. “You wanted to find out who did it on your own, didn’t you? But you were never able to.”
Leonard’s gaze fell to the ground, filled with a mix of frustration and resignation. “Yes. I searched for answers, but they always eluded me. And now, it seems, I may never know the truth. In the end, I have to wonder if it matters.”
Kenneth’s eyes widened with a mix of surprise and concern. “Leonard, all these trips overseas and not one clue?”
Leonard nodded, his expression grave. “No. Nothing. I went there often, spoke to whomever I could. Of course, I could not simply demand to know if they knew who killed my father. They all believe it was a heart attack also.” He groaned as he thought of the tangled web that was his father’s legacy.
“What about your mother? Did you ever ask her about all of this?”
Leonard frowned but then understood Kenneth did not know the timeline of all of this as well as he did.” “No, I couldn’t. I found out he’d been killed just before his funeral, and back then, I didn’t know what a terrible husband he was. I still thought him a wonderful man, remember? When I found out that my father was murdered, I was shaken up. I wanted to ask my mother about it but didn’t want to upset her. So, I traveled to Portugal and Spain to speak to the vintners who knew my father well, only to uncover his misdeeds. The more I learned about him, the more I felt like he was a stranger.”
Kenneth’s brow furrowed in realization. “I remember you were shaken when you first returned from Portugal, but I had no idea this was all connected to your father’s death.”
“When I first returned,” Leonard began, “I resolved to speak to my mother after all. I had found out so much, I knew she had to know more. But then she died before I had a chance. As always, I procrastinated. When I read her diary, it was in part to find out if she suspected anyone of hurting her husband. But instead, I discovered it was her husband who hurt her.”
Kenneth inhaled sharply and patted Leonard on his back. “I wish you had told me the whole story sooner.”
Leonard shrugged, a heavyweight evident in his demeanor. “I didn’t want to admit to anyone just how bad a man my father was... And there’s something else.” He looked at Kenneth, his gaze troubled. “I was worried, and still am, that perhaps the person who murdered my father was my own mother.” It was an admission he’d never before uttered out loud. Part of him could still not believe he was saying it out loud now.
Kenneth remained silent momentarily, absorbing Leonard’s words, before finally admitting, “That did cross my mind just now also. If her husband abused her as much as we believe, then maybe she would have done it to free herself.”
Leonard nodded solemnly. “Yes, and that is why I also don’t want to investigate it further, at least not officially. For at the end of any investigation, either my father or my mother’s reputation would be stained forever. So I resolved to live with it.”
“But that still doesn’t mean you should deprive yourself of love,” Kenneth countered gently.
Leonard stood up abruptly and stomped to the water’s edge. He turned to face Kenneth, his expression fraught with emotion. “You still don’t understand. My father was so horrid that someone killed him. If it was a stranger I don’t know about, then it speaks to my father’s bad character. And if it was my mother, then it’s even worse because it means my father was a crueler monster than I believed. In either case, I have this blood running through me - and I will not subject Sally to this sort of husband, this sort of life. Distancing myself is what is best.”
