“Miss,” I corrected him automatically.

  He did not respond, but sat on the chair opposite me while Detective Stirling sat on the chair to his immediate left. They both consulted their notes for some time without speaking and I wondered once more if this could be a technique designed to put me ill at ease.

  “Now, would you please go over the events of the morning?” Detective Stirling said.

  “I’ve already been over them a hundred times,” I said, and then amended that to, “At least twice.”

  “We need to make sure nothing has been overlooked,” Detective McCloud said, and then looked at me expectantly.

  I steeled myself. “I was in the cupcake store with my sister, Rebecca. Mr. Greaves came in. He told my sister he had increased his offer to sell. She said she wouldn’t sell under any circumstances. He said it would be better for her if she did. I asked if he was threatening her and he said he wasn’t, although he said it sarcastically, and I was sure he was threatening her. Then he snatched a sample chocolate cupcake and ate it. Next thing I knew, he was on the floor.” I stopped talking because my mouth had run dry. I craved a glass of water.

  I was worried I was going to have a panic attack. I felt dizzy and fought the urge to run out of the room.

  “Do go on,” Detective Stirling said.

  I took another deep breath and let it out slowly. “He fell to the floor and said, ‘My heart’. I thought he must be on heart medication. I looked through his pockets for a bottle of pills, but couldn’t find any. While I was doing that, my sister called 911. The paramedics got there quite quickly, and that’s about it.”

  Detective Stirling looked up from taking notes. “That’s your story?”

  His words rankled. “It’s the truth.”

  “Would you like a glass of water?” Detective McCloud asked me.

  I wondered if they were playing good cop, bad cop, but did anyone ever do that outside movies? “Yes, please,” I said, and then thought I should push my luck. “Is there any chance of coffee as well?”

  McCloud shot me a small smile before leaving the room.

  I felt uneasy being left with Detective Stirling, but he did not speak. He merely read through his notes and tapped his pen on his notepad at intervals.

  It wasn’t long before Detective McCloud returned. He placed a glass of water in front of me as well as a steaming polystyrene cup of coffee. I thanked him and took a sip of the coffee. It was horribly strong and bitter, but at least it was caffeine. It was hot too. I took another sip and then a large gulp of water.

  The liquid comforted me somehow, so I sat a little straighter.

  “Have you remembered anything since this morning? Anything else since I spoke to you earlier?”

  I shook my head. “No.”

  “And when did you first meet Matilda Birtwistle?”

  I looked at Detective McCloud. “Matilda? Today. Today was the first time I met her.”

  He pushed on. “And have you ever spoken with her before?”

  I shook my head. “No, I’ve never even seen a photo of her before. There weren’t any of her in the apartment. Well, there are framed photos of people on top of Mount Everest, but you can’t see their faces. They could be anyone. Today was the first time I had ever seen her or spoken with her.” I wondered why he was asking about Matilda and not Eleanor.

  “And so, how long have you been renting the apartment from your sister?” he continued.

  “About six months,” I said warily.

  “And are you an avid gardener, Mrs. Delight?”

  I wondered if the detectives were deliberately calling me ‘Mrs.’ to irritate me. Maybe it was their way of throwing me off guard, to annoy me so I would let something slip. “It’s Miss,” I said, becoming rather irritated. “No, I’m a terrible gardener. I like looking at flowers, but I’m not very good looking after them.”

  “But you were looking after the Birtwistle sisters’ herb garden while they were away, weren’t you?”

  “My sister was initially looking after their garden, but after I moved into the apartment, I said I’d take over,” I said. “Why?”

  The detectives did not respond.

  Detective Stirling looked up at me. “Do you have a background in biology or chemistry?”

  I chuckled in spite of myself. “I don’t have a background in anything like that. I was brought up Amish and then I left. I eventually went to college. My major was public relations.”

  Stirling continued to scribble away in his notepad. “And do you know anything about the plants the Birtwistle sisters are growing?”

  I gasped. “They’re not illegal, are they?”

  McCloud’s lips twitched. “No, they are not,” he said. I thought I detected a hint of amusement in his voice. I could not resist looking at his left hand and saw there was no wedding ring on his finger. Did Scottish men wear wedding rings? I had no idea. I had thought it a habit in the entire Western world, but I really didn’t know. I certainly hoped he wasn’t married.

  Detective Stirling cleared his throat. “Miss Delight!”

  I looked at him. “Sorry?”

  “I asked you if Colin Greaves had ever threatened your sister Rebecca on previous occasions.”

  “Only today,” I said, “and when I asked him straight out if he was threatening her, he said he wasn’t. It’s just that his tone was quite threatening and he didn’t protest in a genuine manner. It’s hard to explain without you hearing the conversation, but I’m absolutely certain it was a threat.”

  “And was that the first occasion you believe he was threatening your sister?”

  “Yes, it was. He started coming into the cupcake store about five months ago and asking Rebecca if she would sell.”

  “And was your sister not happy with the price?” Stirling asked me.

  “It wasn’t about the money. I’m sure what he offered was a fair price, but my sister didn’t want to sell,” I said. “And today he said he would increase his offer, but Amish don’t care about monetary things.” I fought to find the right words to explain. “That’s not correct really, because most of them are very business minded. But what I’m saying is that they place other values above money—you know, family and things like that.”

  I knew I wasn’t explaining very well, but I was quite tense. Surely the police couldn’t suspect my sister. After all, she was Amish. I wondered if they would suspect me of murdering Colin Greaves to protect my sister.

  “And so this is your twin sister, is that correct?” Stirling asked me.

  “Yes, Rebecca and I are identical twins,” I told him.

  “So I’m sure you feel quite protective toward your sister,” Stirling continued. “Were you upset about the way Colin Greaves was treating her?”

  I frowned. Yes, it looked as if that’s exactly what the detectives were thinking, that I had murdered Greaves to protect my sister. “I know what you’re thinking,” I said, “but I didn’t murder him.”

  “And what do you think we are thinking?” Stirling asked. His tone was measured, although cold.

  “You realize my sister wouldn’t have murdered anyone because she’s Amish. You think after Mr. Greaves threatened my sister today, I murdered him to protect her, but that doesn’t make sense.”

  McCloud raised one eyebrow. “How so?” he said in his delightful Scottish accent.

  “Well, that would mean I had a poisoned chocolate cupcake ready to give him when he came in. How would I have known when he would come in?”

  “Was that the first time Colin Greaves had eaten a sample cupcake?” Stirling asked me.

  My stomach sank. “No, he ate a sample cupcake every time he came in.”

  “And was it always a chocolate one?” Stirling asked me.

  “I’m not sure, but it most likely was a chocolate one,” I conceded.

  I took a gulp of the coffee and washed it down with some water. My stomach rumbled. All this talk of cupcakes was making me hungry. I really needed some cake, but I knew they wouldn’t get me any, of course.

  By the time the detectives allowed me to leave the interview room after giving and signing my statement, I was a shaken mess. I put on a brave face when I walked over to Rebecca in the lobby. She stood up. “What did they say? What did they ask you?” She spoke breathlessly.

  “I’ll tell you in the car,” I said, looking around the lobby. “How did the questions go with you?”

  “It wasn’t nearly as bad as I thought it was going to be,” she said. “The detectives were quite nice, really.”

  I hurried out to the parking lot with Rebecca hard on my heels. As soon as I was in my car, I asked her, “Did they ask you about Eleanor and Matilda’s plants?”

  Rebecca nodded vigorously. “Yes, they asked me again and again about the plants, and they asked me if I was one of those Amish people who knows a lot about herbs and healing. I told them I was just a normal Amish person, and I knew more about cupcakes than I did about healing. I told them if I need healing, I always go to the widow Beiler. They asked me if I used any of the plants in my baking.” She broke off and laughed. “Imagine that! I told them I don’t, of course.”

  I nodded. “They asked me about the herb garden and asked me when I first met Matilda,” I said. “If I put two and two together, it makes me think that Eleanor and Matilda are growing a deadly herb, and that it produces the very poison that killed Colin Greaves.”

  Chapter 7

  It seemed my suspicions were correct. We hadn’t been back in my apartment for more than fifteen minutes when the doorbell rang. “Don’t answer it,” Matilda said. “It’s just a customer wondering why the store is shut.”

  I shook my head and stood up. “That was the bell to the apartment not the store.”

  Matilda tried to wave me back down. “We’re not expecting anyone and you still haven’t told us everything about the police questioning you.”

  I shrugged and made my way down the stairs. I opened the door and was surprised to see Detective McCloud and Detective Stirling standing there.

  “We would like to take another look at your garden and take samples,” Detective McCloud said without pre-emption.

  “You were speaking to me only minutes ago. Why didn’t you tell me then?”

  McCloud raised his eyebrows. “Did you need some sort of warning, Miss Delight?” I scowled at him. “We can always get a search warrant,” he added.

  I waved them inside. “Come in. And it’s not my garden. It’s the Birtwistle sisters’ garden.”

  “But you’ve been tending it for them for the past six months.” His words came out as an accusation.

  I continued to glare at him. “This way,” I snapped. I showed the detectives to the little garden in the walled area.

  “These plants aren’t labeled,” Detective Stirling said. He looked up at me from over a lavender plant. “How do you identify them?”

  I crossed my arms over my chest. “I don’t identify them. I’ve already told you, I don’t know anything about plants. I know that one is a lavender plant.” I pointed the one he had been bending over. “But that’s about all I do know. I really don’t know one plant from another. I keep telling you, Eleanor and Matilda own this garden and I merely watered the plants for them while they were away.”

  Matilda marched into the courtyard. “I can identify the plants for you. What would you like to know?” She shot Stirling a dark look.

  “Why don’t you start by pointing out some of the plants to us? Are they all herbs?”

  “Yes they are. That one is asafoetida, that is rosemary, that is dill, that one that is astragalus, that is ginger, and that is turmeric.”

  When she stopped to draw breath, Detective Stirling spoke. “Why do you have so many herbs? Do use them in baking?”

  Matilda nodded. “Sometimes, but we mainly use them in our home-made skincare products, and we also use them for medicinal purposes. Eleanor and I lived near Dalian in China for a few years and we learned Traditional Chinese Medicine.”

  McCloud raised his eyebrows. “You make your own skincare products with this stuff?”

  Matilda shot him a wide smile and then patted her face with both hands. “If I told you my age, you would never believe it. These herbs are responsible for this.” She released her face and then pointed to it with her right hand.

  I had to admit, Matilda and Eleanor had excellent skin. Sure, their faces were sagging somewhat, but neither had so much as a wrinkle or a fine line on their entire face. Maybe I should ask them to make me some facial cream. Still, I had more pressing matters on my mind like being a suspect in a murder case.

  “Do you have any plants that are poisonous?” Detective Stirling asked Matilda.

  “Sure.” She pointed to a pretty yellow plant. “That’s henbane. We use it for coughs.”

  “Is it poisonous?”

  “Yes.” She sounded quite happy. “It causes convulsions. And that is yellow jasmine. We use it as a tonic, but in large quantities it is deadly.”

  “You haven’t mentioned wolfsbane yet,” McCloud said, his eyes narrowed.

  “That’s it right there.” Matilda pointed to a plant with pretty purple flowers. “Wolfsbane is also known as monkshood or aconitine.”

  As she was speaking a chill ran up my spine. McCloud’s interest in wolfsbane surely meant that the victim was murdered with wolfsbane, and here we had some in our garden. Visions of defending myself in court to a jury flashed before my mind. I didn’t even know a lawyer. Well, apart from my ex-husband and his friends, of course. What was I to do?

  Detective McCloud was still speaking. “And what do you specifically use wolfsbane for? Is there a specific reason you have it growing in your garden?”

  Matilda seemed surprised to be asked such a question. “Of course there is! I don’t grow useless plants here. Eleanor and I take wolfsbane on occasion for colds, but it’s also a good disinfectant. Only a tiny amount when taken orally, you see. It’s a deadly neurotoxin so it’s ever so poisonous in larger amounts.”

  Detective Stirling had been taking photos of the wolfsbane. He stopped abruptly. “So, you are aware of its poisonous properties?”

  Matilda nodded vigorously. “Of course. Isn’t everybody? Everybody knows wolfsbane is poisonous. If anyone’s ever read 4:50 From Paddington, they know just how deadly wolfsbane is.”

  Stirling’s mouth fell open. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what you mean.”

  “It’s an Agatha Christie novel, of course.”

  “Oh.” Stirling consulted his phone before pointing to another plant. “And what is the name of that herb?”

  “Foxglove.”

  He nodded slowly. “I thought so. And you use this as well?”

  Matilda nodded.

  Stirling looked exasperated. “Exactly what do you use it for?”

  “Oh, I see. Eleanor and I use foxglove as an ointment for our arthritis. I have a touch of arthritis in my knee and Eleanor has it in her ankle. It was our little accident in Mongolia, you see.”

  Stirling’s eyebrows shot skyward. “Mongolia?”

  Eleanor afforded him a wide smile. “Yes, it was five years ago or so. We were galloping half-tamed horses in Mongolia. I fell off and Eleanor laughed so hard that she fell off her horse too. Serves her right!”

  Detective McCloud cleared his throat. “And would you consider it a poisonous plant?”

  Eleanor’s mouth fell open. “Of course! Even a small amount can be fatal. The deadly digitalis is from foxglove. That’s why we only use it in an ointment. Agatha Christie used it in several of her books.” She tapped her chin. “Let me see. Appointment with Death, Crooked House, Postern of Fate—oh, and what was that other one?” She looked off into the distance.

  I did my best to catch her attention. I didn’t think it a good idea that she was so enthusiastic about her knowledge of plant poisons or so forthcoming about just how deadly some of her plants were. My efforts were in vain.

  “Why are you staring at me strangely, Jane?”

  “Oh, no reason,” I said lamely.

  Detective Stirling shot me a hard look before addressing Matilda once more. “Do you mind if I take samples of some of your plants, Mrs. Birtwistle?”

  “Of course not. Help yourself. Just don’t take too much, mind you. I don’t want any of my plants damaged.”

  Detective McCloud nodded to us. “Thank you. That will be all, ladies.”

  It was obvious we were being dismissed, and I wondered whether I should continue to stand there. I wondered what McCloud would do if I didn’t leave. Still, the detectives didn’t seem to care that I hadn’t left at once, and took samples of the herbs with their gloved hands.

  Matilda grabbed me by the elbow and dragged me from the courtyard. As soon as we were out of earshot, she whispered, “That was so silly!”

  I was perplexed. “What was?”

  “I shouldn’t have said those plants were poisonous.”

  I sighed long and hard. “You had to be honest.”

  “Yes, I suppose so, but I should not have been so forthright, going on and on about how poisonous they were. On the bright side, I don’t grow yew trees, or hemlock, or castor oil plants. Jane, do you think they suspect you’re the murderer?”

  “Yes I do. It’s unlikely they suspect Rebecca given the fact that she’s Amish and Amish are non-violent. They’re more likely to suspect me.”

  Matilda nodded slowly. “Yes, they think you murdered Colin Greaves to protect your sister after he threatened her.”

  “Well, it wasn’t really much of a threat as threats go,” I explained.

  “You know that and I know that, but the police probably think you played down the threat. For all they know Greaves might have threatened Rebecca on numerous occasions, and she wouldn’t defend herself as she is Amish as you rightly pointed out, so they figure you’ve taken matters into your own hands.”

  I rubbed my temples hard with both hands. The tightening across the front of my head and across the bridge of my nose signaled an oncoming headache. My stomach churned and I wanted nothing more than to lie down with a cold pack on my forehead. “I hadn’t thought of it like that. I’m sure that’s how they’ll make their case.”