Midlife Blues - Victoria Danann Page 0,9

I say action, I mean she likes boys and there weren’t any available males at the table.”

“Wow.” Rats. I’d said it again. I felt like I needed to create a punishment piggy and put a tenner in whenever I said the word ‘wow’. “Lead the way.”

I glanced at Esmerelda, who was watching me like a cat watches a mouse.

“You’re not going to help me at all, are you?” I hissed at her. I got the classic Esme expression that left me guessing. It might’ve been a slight smile, or it might’ve been my imagination. “Thanks a lot. When this is over, I’m going to spread it around that you’re a secret bedazzler.”

She laughed.

The kitchen and satellite rooms on the other side of the butler’s pantry were still buzzing with clean up and break down activity. There had to be eight people wearing the accoutrements of cook or wait staff.

“Got to hand it to you,” I said to John David. “You went all out.”

“What sort of friend would I be if I withheld hospitality?”

“Well…” I never got a chance to answer that question. I suppose answering that question would’ve been silly since it was clearly rhetorical. So, no loss, but I digress.

We froze in place when we heard raised voices coming from somewhere in the building.

“Sounds like someone found something,” I said. “Let’s go.” John David stepped back for me to pass. I said, “Nothing doing. Inspectors always go last.”

John David cocked his head. “Is that true?”

“I don’t know. Sounds right though.”

He accepted that and set off, arm in arm with Esmerelda.

Jarvis was moving toward us quickly when we emerged on the dining room side of the butler’s pantry.

“Sir.” He ran toward John David, looking truly freaked out. The man was excellent at his craft. I almost believed he was beside himself. “The young woman has been found.”

“Oh good,” John David said.

“Ah…” Jarvis attempted speech but failed.

“There’s more?” Jarvis nodded. “Then spit it out, man,” John David told him in a lord-of-the-manor tone.

“She’s dead, sir.”

“Dead?” I had to hand it to John David. He seemed authentic in his surprise. “Where?”

“The billiard room.”

Those three words removed all doubt. I burst into laughter. “The billiard room? There’s a body in the billiard room? Seriously? How cliché can you get?” I slapped at the vampire’s hard-as-stone bicep, then turned to Jarvis while still trying to get the giggles under control. “Tell me, Jarvis. Did the butler do it in the billiard room?”

Three faces stared at me as if I was certifiable. They were better at acting than I was.

“Alright.” I gave in. “I’m your patsy. Onward to the billiard room.”

I’d been to the manor house before and could’ve found my way there, but I halfway believed what I’d said about inspectors always going last.

The location of the billiard room was a twist of architectural interest. Halfway up the grand staircase we came to an expansive landing. Turn left and continue upstairs. Turn right and enter the billiard room.

We were the last to arrive.

The billiard room was adjacent to a music room with grand piano and other instruments. When the large French doors were open, as they were at the moment, it could’ve functioned as one room. Other than being exceptionally large, it was everything you’d expect, including a few exotic trophies hanging at intervals with grotesque glass eyes. But nothing in imagination could be as grotesque as the sight of Lorca Scarlet lying half on, half off the ornately carved pool table. Her throat had been ripped out. Streaks of drying blood made a stark contrast to the champagne-colored dress, and also accentuated the violet of her eyes, which were open and staring.

When I began to feel queasy, I kickstarted an internal chant.

It’s not real. It’s not real. It’s not real.

I told myself that makeup artists can work miracles, but that bit of self-comfort was quickly followed by the realization that makeup artists can’t help an actor stare indefinitely without blinking.

“Well, Inspector,” said Colonel Connolly, “it would seem you have a murder on your hands.”

“Did someone check to see if she’s really, um, dead?” I said lamely.

“I did,” Keir said. “She’s really dead. See for yourself. Check her pulse.”

“You want me to check her pulse?”

“Only if you doubt that she’s really dead.”

I was getting more uncomfortable with every minute that passed when Lorca didn’t blink. Just then I saw a bubble of blood rise and pop on her neck. I was sure I was going to be sick.

Also, those satin dresses from the twenties