The tea tray arrived, and on it were four cherry buns that looked mouthwatering. It surprised him he was hungry. He hadn’t been since he’d left Iris.
“We will pour. Thank you, Chipley.”
“Very good, ma’am.” The butler disappeared again.
“Now, Monty, it is understandable that you want justice, but to let it consume you would not make your parents happy. They would also want happiness and a life for you.”
“How do you know that I don’t have a life?” He stared at her.
“Do you have a wife and children and lots of friends?”
He shook his head.
“Well there you have it then, but it is not too late. Now get back to your questions,” Marion said, picking up a bun and taking a large bite.
“My father had a small carving of the pentacle symbol clutched in his hand when I found his body.” He shouldn’t have just come right out with it, but there had been no easy way.
Marion lowered the bun back to the plate and took a sip of her tea. She then rose. Monty went to do the same, but she waved him back to his seat.
“Stay. I shall return shortly.”
He watched her until she disappeared behind the glasshouse.Where had she gone?
Deciding he would find out soon enough, he picked up a bun and ate.
It was peaceful here, away from the bustle of London. If he was honest, there hadn’t been a lot of peace in his life since his parents died. It was time for change. Monty just wasn’t sure now in what form that would come. But what he knew was that he could not contemplate it until he saw this investigation through to its conclusion.
He was on his second bun when Marion returned.
“Is this what you found?” She placed a small carving onto the table in front of him.
His heartbeat once again increased as he picked up the item.
“Yes, that’s the same as the one my father had in his palm. Will you tell me about the day your husband passed, Marion?”
She took a fortifying sip of her tea. “I was away from our house visiting my sister, and when I returned early one morning, I was informed by our staff that my husband was still sleeping. I entered the room and knew instantly something wasn’t right. Opening the drapes, I approached Charles. He was cold, and I knew he was dead. We believed he’d died in his sleep. I found that carving in his palm, and because I knew that was the devil’s symbol, I hid it so the doctor who came to pronounce him dead did not see it.”
“I did the same thing when I found it in my father’s hand. Did you believe your husband could worship the devil, Marion?”
“Absolutely not. My husband was strong in his religious beliefs and would never waver. But I could find no answer as to why it was there in his hand.” She was frowning now, and he knew she was back to the morning she’d found the man she loved dead. Just as Monty often went back to the scene in his parents’ bedroom.
“Do you doubt your husband died in his sleep, Marion?”
She hesitated.
“I will not speak of this with anyone if that is your wish,” Monty said.
“My husband’s pillow was lying half over his face. He could have reached for it in his sleep and put it there—”
“But you were suspicious?”
“I was distraught, so I perhaps was not seeing things clearly, but there was bleeding under his nose, and it looked crooked,” Marion said.
Which could suggest someone had pressed the pillow into it to suffocate him, Monty thought.
“The doctor said the bleeding happens in death.”
He’d never heard of that.
