Rich Doyle Mysteries: Rose

Chapter 6: Helena and Arnold

Arnold came into the room, looking at us down his big, pointy nose. Rich smiled cordially, and even I felt taken in by it. Arnold, however, remained stony-faced. "What would you like from me?" he said. Although the words were helpful, his expression and tone said the exact opposite.

"Just a few questions, my good man," Rich said. "How long have you worked for Mrs. Graham?"

"For more than fifty years," Arnold said proudly, running a hand over his thinning white hair. He was tall and spindly and put me in mind of a grasshopper. "Only myself and Helena have worked so long and knew Mr. Graham."

"You knew Mr. Graham?" Rich's eyebrows shot up. He recovered quickly and adjusted his glasses. "Tell me; what was the relationship between Mr. and Mrs. Graham?"

Arnold straightened and pulled a monocle from his black suit pocket. Yes—a monocle. I couldn't help but gape. I thought I'd gotten used to oddities with my cousin, but seeing the stereotypical butler in front of me was definitely a shock. He noticed my stare and said coldly, "Ms. Doyle, if you'd kindly direct your gaping elsewhere ..."

Blushing, I averted my eyes to the smooth tabletop in front of me. Rich said in a rather icy tone, "I asked you a question. Please don't avoid it."

"I can avoid it if I want," Arnold snapped. "The question has nothing to do with your investigation. Both my master and mistress are dead; let sleeping dogs lie, as the saying goes. Do you have any questions pertinent to your investigation?"

I honestly thought Rich was going to lose it. With a very painstaking gesture Rich removed his glasses and laid them on top of his notebook. His face had gone all white except for two red spots on either cheek. He gnawed on his lip for a moment before proceeding. "Why did Mrs. Graham have to hire a maid, a cook, and a gardener, all at the same time?"

"The cook died, the maid moved away, and the gardener retired," Arnold said flatly. "The final two mostly because of the cook's death. He was an old man, and they both realized they were old as well. A cause-and-effect situation. Most unpleasant, but it required replacements quickly. Carmen, Missy, and Jeremy were simply in the right place at the right time."

"When was the last time you saw Mrs. Graham?"

"At six last night as I was departing."

"Interesting," Rich said. "And where was she when you said good-bye?"

"I would not be so impertinent to bid farewell to her," Arnold replied coldly. "I wished her a good night and to sleep well. But if you must know, she was sitting in her chair, as she always does."

"Always?" I said. "She doesn't, I don't know, move to the couch every now and again?"

"No. She never moves to the couch. She claimed it was uncomfortable and the light was ill for sewing."

Rich nodded several times. "Who do you believe killed Mrs. Graham, Arnold?"

Arnold's cold eyes moved to me. "It had to be her. She had the gun, her ring was here, no one else makes sense," he said.

I chewed my lip. Why was the world so intent on making me out to be a murderer? Rich was dismissing Arnold at that point. He turned to me after Arnold had gone, smiling a little. "Sorry, Rose, but I had to ask," he apologized. "Anyway, we now know someone's lying. Two people say she was sitting on the chair, while Jeremy says she was sitting on the couch. Who's lying? Could Missy and Arnold be in it together?"

The thought almost cracked me up. The irrepressible Missy, cooperating in a murder scheme with the stiff-lipped, irritable Arnold? I couldn't picture it. Rich was scribbling on the page again, his pen moving quickly across it. Then he looked up. "Helena's next," he said.

The round housekeeper bustled in, her grey curls bouncing around her rotund cheeks. Her smile seemed to light up the room, embracing Rich, who seemed taken aback by the action. Then she came over and hugged me, squeezing me gently. "You poor dear!" she cried. "They have no right to put you through such pain and misery!"

"Helena," Rich said gently, "perhaps you'd permit me to ask you a few questions?"

She released me and sat down beside Rich. "Of course," she said. "What would you like to know?"

"When did you come to work for Mrs. Graham?"

"I worked for her shortly before her marriage," Helena said. "I always thought they were an ill-matched pair, but she was hopelessly in love with the man. Nothing I said could have dissuaded her from marrying him. It was only after the marriage did she realize what sort of man she had married."

"You didn't approve of Mr. Graham?" I asked.

"I didn't approve of the match," Helena said, looking uneasy. "I don't mean to speak badly of the deceased, but Mr. Graham only seemed to want his wife's money. Don't ask me why—he would have gotten more from his parents' inheritance than Mrs. Graham's. He ruined that when they disowned him."

"Very strange," Rich commented thoughtfully. "Why be disowned by your wealthier parents for a less-rich inheritance? Unless, of course, the inheritance of his parents wasn't promised to him and he wouldn't have gotten it even after their deaths."

"He had to have gotten it," I put in. "Mrs. Graham received their inheritance as their last living relative. It just doesn't make sense, unless Mr. Graham really did love her."

"What does this all have to do with Mrs. Graham's death?" Helena asked.

"Who gets her inheritance now that she's dead?" Rich inquired.

"We do," Helena said. "The staff. Her executor is splitting it between the five of us as we speak. I'd rather have Mrs. Graham alive than any of her money, though." She sniffed, pressing a handkerchief to her nose sadly. "God rest her soul."

"When was the last time you saw her?"

"At about six last night," Helena said. "We were all leaving."

"Even Jeremy?" Rich said.

"Jeremy left first," Helena explained. "I always leave last. I want into the sitting room and said good night to Mrs. Graham before leaving."

"Where was she sitting?"

"The chair. Where she usually sits," she said.

Rich nodded slowly, digesting that information. "Interesting." He glanced out the window and jumped in surprise. "Why, it's past noon! I didn't even notice. Helena, would you be so kind as to allow the others to leave? I've asked all the questions I can think of."

"What about Carmen?" I asked.

"She can wait," he said, and I could see he was eager about something. Helena smiled and nodded before leaving the room.

"It's got to be Jeremy," I said after she'd gone. "He's lied about two things. He actually left, and where Mrs. Graham was sitting."

"Not necessarily," Rich said. "He may have left before feeling ill, and when he returned the others were gone and Mrs. Graham was in a different seat. I want to test something, though."

My stomach rumbled, and Rich heard it. He grinned at me. "We'll eat first, though. I know a good place in town. C'mon."