“I have no idea what this is all about.” I sat on the chair and narrowly avoiding sitting on the little cat. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Crumbles,” I said. He shot me a disdainful look.

  “What are we going to do?” I asked Matilda and Eleanor. “They obviously think it was me.”

  Matilda shook a finger at me. “No, it’s just that the alibis of the other suspects must have all checked out. They’re probably just doing the rounds again starting with you.”

  I threw my hands in the air. “But then who could it be?” I checked the suspects off one by one on my fingers. “Stephanie Greaves, her son, Brooks, Iris Ogilvie, Richard Ogilvie, William and Mia Willow.”

  “Maybe there is someone we don’t know about,” Eleanor said. “Maybe it’s someone the police don’t know about either.”

  I slumped forward, my head in my hands. “That’s no comfort to me, I’m afraid.”

  “Never you mind,” Matilda said. “I’ve put two and two together, and I’ve asked Rebecca to stop by to see someone on her way home.”

  Now I really was intrigued. “Do go on.”

  “Well, it’s like this. The police were awfully interested in the food. What does that tell you?”

  “Not a thing to be honest,” I said, silently berating myself for having minimal sleuthing skills.

  “The medical examiner has obviously given the police the report of the contents of the vic’s stomach,” Matilda said. “We know that the perpetrator poisoned the vic, and we assume the poison was administered orally. If so, it had to be concealed in food. They wanted to know what you had eaten that day. Therefore, they were wondering whether you shared it with Mr. Greaves.”

  I was horrified. “You mean the police were wondering if I had eaten the same type of food that was found in Greaves’s stomach?”

  Matilda jabbed her finger in the air. “Exactly! You finally caught on, Jane. That’s good. And Rebecca has gone to speak with Wanda Hershberger and she is going to ask her daughter to find out exactly what that food was. We will go there tomorrow and I’ll find out more from Mrs. Hershberger. Isn’t that great!”

  Matilda was quite excited, but I didn’t share her happiness. Still, I didn’t want to disappoint her, so I smiled and nodded. How would it help us to know what food the victim had ingested?

  Chapter 19

  Matilda, Eleanor, and I arrived at Wanda Hershberger’s grossmammi haus. This time, I had insisted upon driving, although Matilda was quite eager to do so. My nerves were already frayed.

  Wanda met us at the door with a wide smile. “Come in, all of you. I’ve been expecting you. Of course you’ll stay for lunch.”

  I thought Eleanor and Matilda might protest so I shook my head at them as we walked behind Wanda in the direction of her kitchen. It was commonplace for visitors to arrive unannounced in the Amish community at mealtimes and they were always fed.

  “I was preparing pot pie,” Wanda said.

  “What can I do to help?” I asked her. She immediately assigned me to roll out the dough for the noodles. I knew the strips would dry on the back of a chair before being cut into rectangles. Matilda and Eleanor also offered to help so they were assigned the stew.

  “Did you find out anything from your daughter?” I asked Wanda.

  “Yes, quite a bit,” she said. “She said a fatal dose of aconitine is quite tiny, from one to six and half milligrams, but she also said that there are different types of wolfsbane and giving the actual plant itself would obviously require much higher doses than giving the actual drug.”

  “Interesting,” I said, but I also didn’t see how that would help.

  Wanda was still talking. “She said he took the poison orally.”

  “You mean he wasn’t injected?” I asked.

  She nodded. “Yes, apparently in some cultures in historical times, people put wolfsbane on the tips of their arrows. The plants are quite poisonous to touch and can be absorbed through the skin, but if absorbed through the skin, there will be no gastrointestinal effects and there were with the man in question.”

  “That makes sense,” I said. “He was given a fatal oral dose.”

  “Yes, my daughter said it was definitely in something he ate.”

  “Did your daughter happen to mention the contents of his stomach?” Matilda asked her.

  Wanda looked up from sprinkling some ground turmeric into the stew. “Yes, potatoes, chicken, cheese, bacon, tomato, onion and garlic, and truffle. All were in very small amounts.”

  “Truffle?” I said in surprise.

  “Yes, and chocolate cake and frosting,” she said.

  Matilda pulled a face. “It doesn’t sound a nice combination. At least that explains why the police asked Rebecca if she ever sold savory cupcakes.”

  “She never has,” I said, “so it looks like the murderer fed Colin Greaves something savory.”

  “My daughter found out that wolfsbane has a slightly bitter taste,” Wanda added, “but it’s only slightly bitter. She said a fatal dose could cause symptoms as soon as fifteen minutes after ingestion.”

  We all nodded. “Yes, Sarah Yoder told us that.”

  “And my daughter said severe symptoms could occur as late as two hours after ingestion.”

  “Well, there’s your window,” Matilda said.

  “Was there severe vomiting?” Wanda asked us.

  “Not that I saw,” I said.

  “That narrows it down even more,” Wanda said. “There would be severe vomiting after an hour.”

  “So that narrows the window down even more in that case,” Matilda said.

  “Mrs. Hershberger just said that,” Eleanor said.

  Matilda glared at her.

  Wanda did not appear to notice their bickering. “The warm feeling in the mouth and tingling of the tongue happen almost straight away and usually within ten minutes. There can be a strange feeling in the mouth and even a feeling of nausea.”

  “Hmm, I did notice him licking his lips and he did put his hand to his mouth a couple of times,” I said.

  Wanda set down a wooden spoon. “I almost forgot to mention. My daughter said the poison has definitely tested for certain as wolfsbane. There is no doubt now.”

  We all nodded once more. That was no surprise to any of us.

  Wanda pushed on. “There are several varieties of aconitine and they’re all poisonous to different degrees. My daughter also found out that wolfsbane can be mistaken for cardiac arrest. It presents with many of the same symptoms. So if the onset is rapid, it was good that the paramedics realized it wasn’t a heart attack,” Wanda said.

  I took a few moments to process the information. “That’s interesting, so perhaps the murderer didn’t think he or she would be caught.”

  “I’ll just fetch you a note my daughter wrote.” Wanda left the room and returned with a piece of paper covered in handwriting. I read it aloud.

  Aconitine alkaloids contain neurotoxins and cardio toxins. Patients predominantly present with gastrointestinal, cardiovascular, and neurological features.

  Under that she had written ventricular arrhythmias and cardiogenic shock.

  “There is one thing we can do,” I said. “We need to retrace the vic’s steps.” I scratched my head. I was picking up Matilda’s terminology.

  “What, how are we going to retrace his steps?” Matilda asked me.

  “I don’t really know. I suppose I’ll have to talk with his wife again.”

  “I don’t think that would go over well,” Matilda pointed out, “but I don’t have any better ideas.”

  I thought things through before speaking. “Let’s think about it backward. He collapsed in Rebecca’s store. He had been touching his mouth which suggests the tingling was already happening, but that happens fairly soon after ingestion of the poison. He didn’t have the severe vomiting yet, so it was less than an hour after he had been poisoned. We know he had come from the herbal supplements store directly before that.”

  “Well, if it wasn’t the people who own the health food store, then someone must have been in the car with him,” Matilda said, “so it all comes back to the mistress once more. Given the fact Richard Ogilvie is an accomplished lawyer, I don’t think he’d have much trouble arranging an alibi for himself or his wife.” She tapped her chin. “Still, Richard wouldn’t have had any idea that his wife was having an affair with the vic, would he?”

  I shrugged. “Will the police tell him now?”

  Matilda leaned forward in her chair. “I have no idea.”

  “Then we’re back where we started from,” I said sadly. “Everything is pointing to what we originally thought, that Greaves was administered the fatal dose of poison disguised in food. It must have happened not long before he collapsed in the store. Perhaps we should go and speak with William and Mia Willow from the health food store again and ask them if he mentioned where he had been.” I shook my head. “No, that’s clutching at straws. Why would he tell them where he had been?”

  “I think we’re at an impasse,” Matilda said. “I simply don’t know what else to do.”

  “And there wouldn’t be any witnesses who would possibly remember seeing a random person in a car with the stranger. Surely there must be something we can do to trace Greaves’s steps. But who could we ask? Who would know? Did he normally have a driver?”

  “Rebecca might know the answer to that,” Matilda said. “But did you ever notice a driver?”

  I shook my head. “Colin Greaves always came into the store alone and I never saw his car. He was always alone. I don’t think Rebecca would know if he had a driver. Who else would?”

  “The police would,” Eleanor pointed out, “but they are not likely to tell us.”

  “His wife and his son would know as well, but I really don’t feel like asking them again,” I said.

  Matilda stood up and looked out the window. “We are just going around in circles and we’re not getting anywhere. We will have to think of something, because the police are closing in on you, Jane.”

  I knew she was right. “Okay, I have an idea, but you’re not going to like it.”

  Chapter 20

  “You were right—I am most certainly not thrilled with your idea,” Matilda said.

  I sighed. “I’m not exactly thrilled about it either, but the only way we’re going to find out if someone was in the car that day is to ask Stephanie.”

  “She’s not going to tell us the truth if she’s the murderer or if she’s in it with her son, or even if she is covering for her son,” Matilda pointed out.

  “I know that,” I said wearily. “I know this only works if Stephanie isn’t the murderer, but it’s worth a try. What other choice do we have?”

  Matilda was silent for a while and then said, “You’re right. We don’t have any other leads and it is worth a try. After all, what have we got to lose?”

  “Our lives possibly, if she is the murderer and comes after us,” I said.

  Matilda chuckled, but I had been completely serious. “I still think it’s a mistake not coming in disguise as your sister,” she said.

  I shook my head. “Rebecca wouldn’t be happy to swap places with me again.” And your driving is quite scary, I added silently.

  Matilda shook her finger at me. “You’ll just have to remember to pretend you’ve never been there before. After all, Stephanie will think she’s never met you.”

  We were close to the tall gates. “I know. I’m really worried that I’ll let something slip.”

  Once more the gates were slightly open and I wondered if they were ever closed. As we approached the large house, a thousand butterflies went crazy in the pit of my stomach. “I don’t think this is a good idea after all,” I muttered.

  “In for a penny, in for a pound,” Matilda said brightly. “Let’s go!”

  She was out of the door and standing on the porch before I had time to gather my wits. I hurried to catch up with her.

  Once more Stephanie answered the door. She was immaculately dressed, as usual. She looked at me with her eyes raised.

  “You met my twin sister, Rebecca,” I said.

  Stephanie’s mouth fell open. “You’re not Amish!”

  “I was once,” I said in a hurry to come to the point. “Would you mind if we take a moment of your time? Only a moment, mind you.”

  Stephanie looked as though she was about to refuse, but ushered us inside. “Celia!” she shrieked. She muttered some rude words under her breath and then said to us, “I don’t know why I put up with that woman. She is never here when I want her.”

  Celia soon appeared. “Fetch drinks for everyone,” Stephanie said without telling Celia what drinks to bring.

  Celia raised one eyebrow at us. “Strong coffee please,” Matilda said.

  “I’ll have the same, please.”

  Stephanie took us to the same area where we had been before. I had to keep telling myself to pretend I had not been here before. “You have a beautiful home,” I said.

  Stephanie simply nodded. “So what can I do for you?”

  “I hope my words don’t upset you, but I need to be blunt because I’m running out of time. The police questioned my sister Rebecca again last night.”

  Stephanie interrupted me. “Surely they don’t think an Amish woman would do anyone any harm?”

  I had been about to add that the police questioned me too, but thought it might be better to stay silent on that point. “Yes, it’s quite crazy isn’t it,” I said. “Anyway, we wanted to know if your husband had a driver.”

  “Of course he had a driver,” Stephanie said, as if it was a crazy question. “Barry Jones. He’s been working for my husband for years. Most competent driver.”

  “Was he driving your husband the day he was poisoned?” I asked her.

  Stephanie looked off into the distance. “No, I don’t believe he was. Jones suffers from migraines. He gets them on a fairly regular basis.”

  “What did your husband do when Barry Jones was sick?” I asked her.

  Stephanie scoffed at me. “My husband wasn’t so precious he couldn’t drive himself,” she said. “On those days he simply drove himself.”

  “And he was driving himself the day he was poisoned?”

  “Yes, I’m sure of it,” Stephanie said.

  Matilda spoke for the first time. “And is Barry Jones your driver too?”

  Stephanie waved one hand at her and pursed her lips. “Goodness gracious me, no. I prefer to drive myself.”

  “Does that mean Barry Jones has now left your employ?” I asked her. It was more idle curiosity than anything else.

  “Oh no, Jones is now going to drive my son in my husband’s car,” Stephanie said. “Jones has been with us for years.”

  Celia returned at that moment and after depositing our coffees on the table, handed Stephanie a cocktail. “Might I ask your interest in my husband’s driver?” Stephanie asked. It was more of a demand than a question.

  Matilda and I exchanged glances. “Because your husband was poisoned not long before he entered my sister’s store,” I told her, “so if your husband had a driver that day, we could have asked the driver if he saw anyone give your husband any food.”

  I thought my words might irritate Stephanie in some manner, but she simply said, “Yes, your sister did tell me about the timeframe of the poisoning. It would have been a good idea to ask the driver, but Jones wasn’t there that day. Jones was sick like I said. The police have already checked that out.”

  “Your son isn’t here today?’ Matilda asked her. “Is he at the gym?”

  Stephanie’s face was a picture of distaste. “Not at all. Poor Brooks simply abhors the gym. His father forced him to go, you see. They didn’t get on. In fact, Colin threw Brooks out of the home.”

  She stood up and smoothed down her clothes with both hands. “Thank you for your visit and your interest in the matter, and I do hope the police don’t arrest your sister. It’s preposterous to think that an Amish lady would harm anyone, much less murder them.”

  I thanked her for her time, stood, and turned to go, but Matilda took a large gulp of her coffee and then gasped for air. She waved her hand in front of her mouth. “It’s hot,” she sputtered.

  I hurried out of the house. I couldn’t wait to get back in the car and talk it over with Matilda. “What did you think of that?” I asked as we drove away.

  “It was such good coffee,” she said. “I wish I’d had time to drink it all.”

  I shook my head. “No, I meant about the case. Interesting she admitted Brooks and Colin had a bad relationship.”

  Matilda nodded. “And she obviously thought she’d said too much, because she wanted us to leave as soon as she told us that. And she could be making up lies about this Barry person. Maybe he was in the car after all. Maybe he did poison Greaves and maybe Stephanie and Brooks put him up to it.”

  “But Stephanie did say the police checked the driver out,” I said.

  Matilda grunted. “A murderer would say that, of course. We can’t take her word for it.”

  “Okay, I’m going to call Detective McCloud.” We were driving by a cute little café so I pulled up outside. I motioned for Matilda to be quiet and pulled Detective McCloud’s card out of my purse.

  To my surprise he answered at once. “Miss Delight, have you seen the prowler again?”

  I hurried to reassure him. “No, it’s nothing like that. You probably already know this information, but I’ve just heard that Colin Greaves had a driver by the name of Barry Jones. On the very day Greaves was murdered, Barry Jones had a migraine and wasn’t able to drive him.”

  “Yes, that’s correct,” Detective McCloud said. “Look, it’s kind of you to bring this information to my notice, Miss Delight, but we were already aware of it.”

  “So it’s true?” I pressed him. “Barry Jones really didn’t drive the victim that day?”

  McCloud hesitated. I wondered if he was considering whether he should tell me to mind my own business. There was such a long interval that I thought he had hung up, but then he said, “Yes, we checked it out and that’s correct. Now Miss Delight, how did you come across this information?”