Poisoned (The Alex Harris Mystery Series) (8 page)

I walked into the living room and found several people seated around drinking coffee and eating fruit and croissants. I hadn’t expected to see people eating in a place where one of their own had recently been poisoned. But then Mrs. Brissart said they would eat anything free. Mrs. Brissart introduced me to everyone explaining how I volunteered to help Chantal.

“This is Kendra Merchant, my grandson Stuart, my nephew Steven, and his daughter, Trish, Mrs. Brissart said, motioning to each person in turn. “Kenneth and Lillian are in the study making some calls.”

I smoothed my black skirt and took a seat next to Mrs. Brissart on the large sofa. Mrs. Platz came into the room to refill the china teapot from a large kettle. The color had returned to the housekeeper’s face, though her tiny hands still shook a bit as she poured. Maybe they always did.

Everyone chitchatted amongst themselves. Kendra was a petite blonde and probably only an inch taller than Mrs. Brissart. She wasn’t overly pretty but had a pleasant face and almond-shaped amber eyes, which unfortunately were red and puffy today. She dressed conservatively in shades of black, though I thought this was probably the color she usually wore rather than a color of mourning. I often wore black and liked it though today I had tossed on a russet sweater to complement my dark skirt.

On the other hand, Trish Hollander, Steven’s daughter, was dressed, well…why beat around the bush? She looked like a tramp. Her way-too-short skirt exposed a pair of shapely legs, and the tight ribbed turtle-neck encased a pair of breasts without benefit of a bra. Her short hair held an amount of mousse and hair spray that would last me a year. She looked up, and, seeing me staring at her, a warm smile spread across her face. I smiled back, all the while chiding myself for judging a book by its cover. Not a very nice thing to do.

Trish’s father, Steven, popped a piece of apple into his mouth. An extremely handsome man, Steven wore an expertly tailored suit in black wool and an air of pomposity. I had done it again—judged a book by its cover. Why was I being so critical? And then it came to me. I felt positive one of these people killed Bradley and had subconsciously decided to dislike them all on the spot.

“If you’ll excuse me,” Mrs. Brissart said, breaking into my thoughts, “I need to talk with my son about some arrangements. Why don’t you finish your tea and then we can start shortly.”

Almost as soon as Mrs. Brissart vacated her place on the sofa, Kendra came over and took a seat next to me. “Mind if I join you? Sometimes being with the family gets to me. Roberta told me you’re the owner of Always Prepared.”

“Yes, along with my sister. Do you know our agency?”

“Yes. I work at Yale, in the administration department, and I’m taking a few acting classes as well. I know a few of the students have gone to you for temp work during the summer.”

“The students have been a great asset to our agency. During the summer, with so many people on vacation it can be difficult to find good people. But students need to earn funds during the summer and it’s been a good relationship on both sides.”

Kendra nodded her agreement.

I took a quick look around the room and, not seeing John, thought now a good time to start my own investigation. With so many potential suspects in one space, I just might be able to find a killer. “Kendra, first, I wanted to say how sorry I am about Bradley. I only met him once, but he seemed like a wonderful man. I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you. That’s very kind. We had plans to marry, you know.”

“Yes. Mrs. Brissart mentioned that.” I waited while Kendra blew her nose. “If you don’t mind my asking, what happened here Monday evening? Mrs. Brissart told the police but I just wonder in her grief if she could have left something out.”

A look of sadness passed over Kendra’s face but then she straightened her shoulders and looked at me. “You mean in terms of the family badgering Roberta about the land?” I nodded. “The usual. They all came over trying to convince her it would be a wonderful thing to sell the land and that they planned to put in a park in the new development for children. As if that would change anything,” Kendra huffed. “The same spiel they’ve been giving her since they hooked up with Mr. Smit. If I had known they planned another assault for Monday I wouldn’t have come over.”

I lowered my voice, almost to a whisper hoping the others wouldn’t catch on to what I was doing. “Did you stay the entire evening?”

“Actually, I arrived a bit late. I had a class, but I stayed with Bradley after they left.” She wiped at her eyes with a well-used tissue. I reached into my purse and handed Kendra a clean one.

“You didn’t spend the night here with Bradley?”

“No. I wish I had. Maybe he would still be alive. No!” She shook her blonde hair and bit her lower lip. “I can’t let myself think like that. Bradley always spent the night on Monday and I think he wanted to speak with his grandmother about something in the morning. I don’t have any clean things here and I had to be at work early the next day, so I went home.”

“Did you and Bradley spend a lot of time here?”

“Yes, we do. Did. We both love Roberta. She’s like the grandmother I never had. Bradley has a key to the house, though it’s never locked anyway, and we just come over whenever we want. Both of us live in small apartments so coming here makes for a nice change.” Kendra stopped abruptly. “Listen to me. I’m talking as if he’s still alive.” She used the tissue to wipe two tears from her cheek.

“It takes time,” I said, consoling the young woman.

“I’m not sure I’ll ever get over this. I know we weren’t married yet, but Bradley was my soul mate, my best friend. Do you understand?”

I thought of John and what we had become to each other in just under a year. If something happened to him, I might not recover either. “Yes, I do understand.”

After a few minutes of sitting in silence, Kendra looked up at me and smiled. “Thanks.”

“Kendra, can I ask you another question?”

“Sure.”

“Do you know what Bradley wanted to discuss with Roberta?”

Kendra shook her head. “I don’t know. We never got around to talking about it, though I think it might have had something to do with my great, great, great, great grandfather. I can’t imagine what. It’s my understanding he died relatively young, murdered by some robber or something.” She shifted on the sofa, now facing me. “I confess all this family stuff didn’t interest me too much. I’m concerned with my present-day family and that’s about as far as it goes with me.”

“It’s quite a coincidence that both your and Bradley’s family lineage are connected.”

“Yeah, I thought it a bit odd myself when we discovered the connection. At first I thought Bradley made it up to tease me. But it seems to be true.”

“Kendra, can you think of any reason someone would want to kill Bradley?” I asked, ignoring for the moment the fact that John felt certain the poison had been meant for Mrs. Brissart.

Kendra shook her head and another tear escaped. “No. I can’t. I told the police the same thing. Nothing in Bradley’s character would cause someone to want to kill him. You didn’t know him, but if you did, then you would know what I’m saying is true. Bradley was the kindest, smartest man I knew. It sounds like a cliché, I know, but I’ve thought about it, and there is nothing. Nothing at all.”

“What about Mrs. Brissart?”

“Mamoo? What about her?” Kendra dabbed at her eyes again then looked horrified. “You think Roberta could have ki—”

I grabbed the young woman’s arm just in time to keep her from jumping off the sofa. “No! You misunderstood me. I meant can you think of any reason why someone would want to kill Mrs. Brissart?”

Kendra settled back down on the sofa. “That’s what the police are thinking, isn’t it? They asked a lot of odd questions. More about Roberta than Bradley. Well, no, I can’t imagine anyone hurting her, either. But with all this land stuff…no, that can’t be right,” Kendra bit down on her lower lip. “People don’t kill just because they don’t get something they want.”

“I think that’s exactly why people kill,” I contradicted her. “Because they want something badly enough, and something or someone is standing in their way.”

“Then it had to be a member of the family.” Kendra looked grief-stricken. “I guess it would have to be, wouldn’t it?” she said softly. “I just hoped…oh, I don’t know why it would matter, but I just wanted it to be a total stranger. Does that make any sense?”

“Yes, it does.”

“If it was a random thing, then we could put it all behind us more quickly. But somewhere in the back of my mind, I guess I always knew it had to be one of us.”

Alertness swept over me at Kendra’s words,
one of us
, for I didn’t get the impression Kendra felt like one of the family except to Mrs. Brissart.

Kendra started to get up. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to go ask Mrs. Platz if she has anything for an upset stomach. I’m not feeling too well today.”

I looked over to where Kendra had been sitting before she joined me and saw an empty plate. What had she just eaten, and why was she suddenly sick?

I watched her walk away to see if I could see any staggering or maybe foaming at the mouth. I was distracted when Stuart sat beside me.

I gave Kendra one more look and figured if whatever she ate had cyanide in it she would have been dead already. I turned and stared into the brownest eyes I had ever seen. They were just like Mrs. Platz’s.

“You two looked conspiratorial. What’s up?” He smiled and I could see crooked teeth, which surprised me in someone who could certainly afford to have them fixed.

“Why do you ask?” I answered back, my voice piqued.

Stuart shrugged. “Because she looked very upset.”

“Well, she just lost someone she loved.”

“So did I,” Stuart snapped. “I know, I don’t look like I’m upset. Is that what you think?”

I blushed. I hadn’t expected Stuart to be so perceptive. “I’m sorry. I guess people show their grief in different ways.”

“I guess we do. Bradley was my little brother. I can’t believe he’s gone. And my parents are, well…I can’t even describe what they’re going through.”

“Were you and your brother close?”

Stuart rested his head against the sofa and folded his arms. “No. I don’t think one could use the word close, but we were brothers.”

“Can you think of any reason why someone would kill him?”

Stuart shook his head again this time dislodging a piece of hair that came forward, obscuring his eyebrows. “No, I can’t. Which makes me wonder if it was an accident.”

“An accident. You mean the poison was meant for someone else?” I wasn’t sure if John had shared his Mrs. Brissart-as-the-intended-victim theory with the rest of the family, but it certainly seemed to be the direction that Stuart and Kendra took.

“No. I didn’t mean that. I meant maybe the poison got into the cookies by accident. Like with that Tylenol case years ago.” He turned his head and looked at me. “Maybe my grandmother used tainted ingredients.”

I mulled over this possibility, though if memory served, wasn’t the Tylenol tainted on purpose? I felt fairly certain it had been, though I couldn’t remember why. But if Stuart’s observation turned out correct, that something got into the cookies by accident, I wondered why John hadn’t said anything—and more importantly, why hadn’t more died? Certainly the police would have the same suspicions. “Yes, I guess you could be right,” I finally said.

Stuart nodded and leaned forward. He took a sip from the mug he brought with him. “So you’re helping Mamoo out until Chantal comes back.”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“She’s a nice person—Chantal, I mean. She helped my brother with the family history.”

“Well, not helped, exactly, just typed his notes.”

“Yeah, I think that’s why he came over on Monday to begin with.” Stuart shook his head. “If he wasn’t here, well, then he’d still be alive.”

“Yes, he would. But more than likely someone else would be dead,” I said, though not quite knowing if it was true. No one else had been poisoned except Bradley, and if he wasn’t there to eat one of the tainted cookies, then perhaps by morning they would have been stale and thrown out. On the other hand, maybe they would have been served for breakfast with some of Mrs. Platz’s tea. With a start, I thought of one more scenario—if Bradley hadn’t planned on coming over, then Mrs. Brissart never would have made the cookies to begin with. And if Stuart reasoned correctly and one of the ingredients was poisoned, who knew when it would be used and how many would be killed?

“I guess you’re right,” Stuart said, bringing me back to the present.

“Do you plan on continuing the work your brother started with the history?” I asked, thinking I needed to get off the subject of poison.

“Me? No, not me.” Stuart laughed and raised hands. “I’m sorry to say all that history stuff doesn’t interest me much. Whatever secrets there may or may not be in our illustrious family’s background, will have to stayed buried with my brother. I plan to make my own history.”

“
It will be found much better by all parties to leave the past to history, especially as I propose to write that history myself
,” I said.

“Okay. If you say so.” Stuart looked baffled.

“Just a habit of mine. I quote—never mind,” I said at Stuart’s blank look. “I understand you didn’t show up on Monday. Do you agree with your grandmother’s stance to not sell the land?”

“Do I agree? My parents don’t want her to sell, and Bradley didn’t. But, you know, the house just sits there vacant most of the time. To be honest, if the land sold, a nice chunk of cash would probably go into trust for me…” He smiled and I had to agree that this young man came from another piece of fabric altogether. “At the same time, I guess I don’t care one way or the other. If it takes my having to come to these little soirées then I’d rather have it not sell.”

“You don’t enjoy your extended family?”

“I don’t enjoy the pettiness and the bickering. My great aunts and grandmother have been at odds all their lives. I really don’t need to hear everything hashed over again.”