She kept her eyes on me, clearly thinking I was the mastermind of our little group. That was a mistake. As she passed Rose’s chair, Rose calmly shifted her cane and thrust it between Helen’s ankles. The housekeeper screeched, lost her balance, toppled forward, and collapsed to the floor.

  “Help! Help!” Rose tapped the center of her chest. “I need help in here.”

  Before I could so much as move, never mind gather my wits around me and do something clever, the front door crashed inward and police officers, led by Detective Amy Redmond, flooded into the room.

  Faster than me, Helen rolled over and struggled to her feet. “Thank heavens you’re here, Officer, that woman attacked me.” She pointed to Rose. “And that one”—indicating me—“falsely accused me of murder. Arrest them both.”

  Redmond gave a jerk of her head to Officer LeBlanc, who grabbed Helen’s arm.

  “Did you get all that?” Rose asked.

  “Loud and clear,” Redmond replied.

  “What are you taking about?” I asked. “How did you get here so fast?”

  Rose rummaged around inside the front of her shirt and began pulling out wires. “Most uncomfortable, this. You need to come up with something that fits a lady’s undergarments better.”

  “You were wired!” Bernie let out a bark of laughter. “You wily old dog.”

  Rose grinned at her.

  “They tricked me,” Helen yelled. “I spun them a ridiculous story because it’s what they wanted to hear. There wasn’t a word of truth in any of it. Rachel, tell them what this family means to me. What you mean to me. What you’ve always meant to me.”

  Tears streamed down Rachel’s face. She said nothing.

  Chapter 24

  “Wired. Of all things.”

  Rose took a sip of her gin and tonic and grinned at Bernie, her face a picture of mischievous delight. Rose habitually enjoyed one G&T every evening before dinner. Today, she announced, was a two-G&T day, and she intended to start early.

  Helen Chambers had been arrested for the murder of Kimberly Smithfield and for the arson at Victoria-on-Sea. Various other charges, she was informed, were pending. Bernie, Rose, and I had been allowed to come home, after being told the police would be in touch with us later to get our statements. Rose insisted Rachel not be allowed to stay alone in her house, and the shocked woman had been bundled out the door and into the back of my car.

  Once we’d arrived at Victoria-on-Sea, Rose had taken Rachel into the drawing room and ordered me to prepare a G&T for her and a hefty serving of brandy for Rachel.

  “I feel the need for a medicinal shot also.” Bernie lifted the back of her hand to her forehead and did everything but collapse onto the fainting couch. “I’ve become quite light-headed all of a sudden.”

  I prepared the drinks, served the women, including a suddenly recovered and grinning Bernie, and took my leave.

  By the time I finally arrived at Tea by the Sea, Marybeth and Cheryl had run out of most of the sandwiches and desserts and were offering only cream tea. I threw on my hairnet and apron, grabbed equipment and ingredients, and started to bake.

  * * *

  “Your presence is required, love.”

  “I figured it would be. I saw Redmond’s car drive by a few moments ago. I have pastry in the oven. Tell her fifteen minutes.”

  “She’s with Rachel now, and that should allow enough time for everyone else to arrive,” Rose said. I put my phone away and checked on my tarts. The little shells were browning perfectly.

  “Almost finished here.” Simon put a batch of cooled currant scones into freezer containers. “What’s next?”

  “I’ve been summoned by the police to give my official statement.” I finished the last of the curried egg salad sandwich filling and put it in the fridge.

  Simon had burst through the back door of Tea by the Sea not long after I got in, his face creased with worry and concern. “Rose tells me you were in Chatham supervising the arrest of Helen Chambers for the murder. What on earth does that mean?”

  “Supervising might not be the right word.” I tied my apron behind me.

  “Lily, how do you get yourself mixed up in these things?” Cheryl asked.

  “Not by wanting to, believe me. We paid a call on Rachel and before I knew what was happening, Helen was telling us how justified she was in killing Kimberly, and Rose recorded it all. Although, I will admit I sort of egged Helen into confessing.”

  Cheryl shook her head and carried a pot of tea into the dining room.

  “Need any help?” Simon asked, to which I’d replied, “Desperately.”

  Now, as I put my baking ingredients away, Simon washed his hands, and we left the tearoom together shortly after eight.

  By the time Simon and I arrived at the house, a good-size gang had gathered in the drawing room of Victoria-on-Sea. Rose had earlier loaned Rachel her car so she could go to the North Augusta police station to be there when Stephen was released, and she’d brought him back here. Bernie had summoned Matt, as an interested party.

  “Is this a social occasion?” I asked as we came in.

  “You know Rose,” Bernie said, “always the hostess.”

  “Those muffins are for tomorrow’s breakfast.”

  Bernie, who couldn’t cook, waved that triviality away. “You can make more.”

  I grumbled. As well as the muffins, Bernie had laid out tea and coffee, juices, a platter of cheese and crackers, and bowls overflowing with chips and nuts.

  “Along with the snacks, I bought some beer and wine earlier,” Bernie whispered to me as Simon went over to talk to Matt, “but Rose said this is an official police investigation, so maybe save those until they’ve left.”

  “I don’t think Chuck Williams ever turns down an offer of a beer.”

  “You’re probably right about that.”

  “I didn’t expect a party.” Detective Redmond stood by the windows, feet apart, hands on her hips. The curtains behind her were drawn.

  “I’ll take any chance I can get to come to a party,” Matt said.

  “I wasn’t expecting to see you here, either, Mr. Goodwill. Or Mr. Badwell, as you’re also known. I won’t ask you to leave, but I will remind you that you cannot use anything you learn here, not until it’s all been through the courts.”

  “I know the drill, Detective,” Matt said. “Bernie, where’s that beer?”

  “I’ll have one if you’re offering,” Chuck Williams said from the depths of the couch, where he was attempting to balance an enormous handful of chips in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other.

  Bernie raised one eyebrow to me in a question.

  “Might as well,” I said.

  Matt and Bernie slipped out. Stephen and Rachel sat close together on the second couch. Her face was white, framed by the long black hair, her eyes tired and drawn, her lips a thin, pale line. “I’ll have one, too, thanks,” Stephen said. He didn’t seem any the worse for wear after a day spent in the police lockup. He drank coffee and munched on cheese and crackers. He gave me a slight smile when I came in, and I nodded in acknowledgment.

  Bernie and Matt were soon back with beer and wine and glasses. Redmond shifted impatiently while drinks were offered, accepted, and served. “If . . .” she said at last, “we can get on with it. We don’t have all day here.”

  “Another muffin, Inspector?” Rose said. “Some crisps, perhaps. Bernie, do get the good inspector a top up there.”

  “Don’t mind if I do,” he said.

  Redmond gave Rose a furious glare. Robbie returned it from the depths of my grandmother’s lap. Rose stroked the cat.

  “I’ve always wanted to be able to tick police informant off my bucket list,” she said. “At last, I can do so.”

  I rolled my eyes. There would be no living with her now. “I have one question,” I said.

  “Only one?” Redmond said.

  “For now. Why didn’t you ask me to wear the wire? Why involve Rose?”

  Redmond sipped her orange juice. “You can’t act, Lily. I’m sorry, but you would have broadcast loud and clear to everyone in that room that you were speaking for the record and hoping someone was listening.”

  “What about me?” Bernie said. “I can act.”

  Redmond stared at her. “Are you that un-self-aware? Never mind. It was Mrs. Campbell’s idea.”

  “Gleaned from my years of reading murder mysteries,” Rose said. “You can call me Rose, love. Sometimes it seems as though we’re almost family.”

  “Perish the thought,” Redmond muttered. “People regularly underestimate the mental acuteness of the elderly, usually to their detriment. If someone had to be wired, Rose was the one Helen would least suspect. Rose called me early this morning to say Lily and Bernie were up to something. She suspected that something had to do with going to Chatham and attempting to question the guilty party.”

  “You knew I hadn’t done it.” Stephen lifted his beer bottle in a toast. “Thanks.”

  Rose’s look in return was frosty. “Your involvement, young man, is a matter still up for discussion.”

  Rachel put a protective hand on her brother’s arm.

  “As she intended to go along with Lily and Bernie,” Redmond continued, “Rose asked if I wanted to listen in. I said I’d not only listen in, but I’d be close at hand in case assistance was needed. Which turned out to be the case. I have to point out, Lily, once again you’ve disregarded my orders and once again you’ve been lucky it worked out okay.”

  I said nothing. She was right.

  “Has Helen been formally charged?” Matt asked.

  “Yes,” Redmond said.

  “I had no idea,” Rachel said. “All these years, Helen’s been in our house, hating us.”

  “Helen didn’t hate us,” Stephen said. “She wanted a fair shake, that’s all. Dad did promise her—”

  “Don’t say any more,” Rachel warned.

  “Is that what she told you?” Redmond asked him.

  “It’s okay, Rach,” Stephen said to his sister. “Yeah, Detective. She told me Dad had intended her to inherit big-time from him, but Mom convinced him people would gossip. You can’t favor a servant over your wife and children without a lot of talk.”

  “You were close to her? She confided in you?”

  He drank his beer. “Sometimes, yeah. I didn’t . . . have anyone else when I was a kid. My dad had no time for me. My mom was . . . distant. Rachel was in college and then she moved to New York, and Kimmy . . . well, Kimmy never worried about anything other than Kimmy.”

  “Tell us what happened concerning the third will,” Redmond said.

  “Pretty much what Lily figured out. Helen called me in LA not long before Mom died. She said Mom had suddenly decided to write a new will, realizing she’d been unfair to Rachel. Helen said she’d try to get Mom to recognize that I was doing okay now and I could be trusted with a full share of the estate. She said if she did that, it would be nice if I’d help her out. She didn’t have much saved for her old age, after working for my family for so many years. I said, yeah sure.” He shrugged. “I was happy to help Helen get something. I thought maybe a few thou. I had no intention of giving her half of my share of the whole shebang. Then Mom died, and the third will couldn’t be found. Everyone was in a fit about that. Helen and Rachel trying to find it. Kimmy wanting to find it so she could get rid of it. I wasn’t getting paid, as I was on a leave of absence from my job, and I needed some cash. So I sold some of Mom’s things to the antique dealer for a few bucks.”

  “You shouldn’t have done that,” Rachel said.

  “So you told me. More than once. I asked you for a loan, remember. You said you’d transfer me something, but you didn’t. What else could I do?”

  “I forgot, that’s all. I had a lot on my mind. You could have reminded me.”

  “I know what my family thinks of me and money, Rach.” He drank more beer. “Why bother?”

  Simon caught my eye. He gave his head a small shake. Stephen wasn’t making himself look good here. Bernie, Rose, and Matt were keeping quiet, letting the drama play out.

  “When did you become aware that Helen Chambers had killed your sister?” Redmond asked in the same tone she might have used to ask if he wanted another beer.

  “Don’t answer that!” Rachel snapped.

  Stephen paid her no attention. “I didn’t know. I figured Kimmy’s husband killed her. He married her awfully fast when he found out what our mom had left her. In the second will, anyway, and as far as he was concerned the third will was gone for good.”

  “You didn’t report that speculation to the police when we questioned you about your sister’s death.”

  “I’m not a rat,” Stephen said. “What you do is your business.”

  “It doesn’t work that way,” Williams said.

  Stephen shrugged, not much interested in how it worked. Rachel still had her hand on his arm, but her face was pinched in disapproval. She loved her brother. She carried a load of guilt about the way he’d turned out, but I doubted she liked him very much.

  Amy Redmond watched Stephen carefully. She was trying to find a way of charging him with accessory after the fact. I had my doubts that she’d be successful. Helen Chambers had been like a mother to Stephen Smithfield, and he believed she was acting in his interests. He might have suspected she’d had something to do with Kimberly’s death, but if so, he’d buried that suspicion very deep indeed.

  “What’s Helen saying?” Rose asked.

  “She claims she came here that night to talk to Kimberly, and she saw Rachel arguing with her sister, so she left not wanting to come between them.”

  “That’s not true!” Rachel said.

  “I know. We’ve had another chat with the man you were talking to in that bar when Kimberly died. He’s emphatic he was with you at the time in question. He later received a phone call from a woman who didn’t give her name, but who suggested he might have been incorrect about the time. As an inducement to reconsider, a sizable sum of money was mentioned.”

  Rachel nodded. “I’m glad he was honest.”

  “Honest?” Redmond said. “Not at all. He agreed to take the money, and he made an appointment to see me at my office this afternoon. When he came in, in light of what Helen told you and Rose recorded, I asked him if he wanted to change his story. He rapidly reconsidered.”

  “She really was prepared to see me go to jail?” Rachel said.

  “Oh, yes. Helen told me quite plainly that she doesn’t believe you should be entitled to any portion of the family’s estate. Julian Smithfield was not your father.”

  “Lucky me,” Rachel said.

  “Helen’s not admitting anything,” Williams said. “But we’ll get her. She stopped at a gas station in Chatham Thursday night at around nine o’clock. She bought gas with her credit card. Big mistake that. On the gas station cameras she’s recognizable and seen to be filling up her car. And after topping up her car, she filled a portable gas container.”

  “My shed!” Simon said.

  “We found the empty container in the trunk of her car,” Redmond said. “She tried to tell us the gas was for the lawnmower, but the gardener said he didn’t need any, and Helen had never bought gas for him in any event. She lives in an apartment building, so she doesn’t have a lawn that needs mowing.”

  “We’ll get her for the arson,” Williams said. “And it’ll all flow from that. Any more beer there, young fellow?”

  Matt passed him one.

  “Any questions?” Redmond said. I opened my mouth, but she said, “No? Then we’ll be on our way. Detective Williams?”

  “What?”

  “We’re finished here. Let’s go.”

  “Oh. Okay.” He took a long slug of his beer and then reluctantly put the bottle down. He lumbered to his feet and grabbed a fistful of chips as he passed the coffee table.

  Redmond stopped in front of Rachel and Stephen. She looked down at them. “We’ll be in touch. If you think of anything further we might want to know, no matter how insignificant it seems to you, don’t wait for us to contact you.”

  Rachel stood up. “I understand. I’ll be staying at the house in Chatham for a while longer. My brother and I have a lot to talk about and some important decisions to make.”

  Headlights washed the drapes of the drawing room. I heard a car door slam and a moment later the front door opening and a man calling, “Hey! Anyone here?”

  Wesley Schumann had returned.

  Simon stuck his head into the hallway. “We’re in here. What do you want?”

  “Nothing to do with you, buddy.” Wesley pushed his way into the drawing room. “I figured you’d be here,” he said to Amy Redmond. “I went to the police station and they told me you were out. What’s happening? I heard Helen Chambers has been arrested for killing Kimmy? Is it true?”

  “It is,” Redmond said.

  “Can’t say I’m surprised. I could tell the moment I met her she was a thoroughly unpleasant woman. Always watching. Always listening. Could barely manage to keep herself civil to Kimberly, who was, after all, her employer.”

  “You didn’t think to inform the authorities of your impression?”

  He shifted uncomfortably. “Well, I mean, it was nothing but my opinion, right? Don’t you call that hearsay? Inadmissible?”

  “Hearsay is inadmissible in a court of law,” Williams said. “But it can give the police a new avenue of investigation to pursue. Meaning, pal, yeah, you had a responsibility to tell us about the relationships between these people. All of them.”

  I didn’t have a lot of respect for Detective Williams, but the way he stared down the arrogant, full-of-himself Wesley Schumann changed my mind. Wesley dipped his head and muttered something that might have been, “Sorry.”

  But Williams wasn’t finished. “You were specifically asked if you knew of anyone who had conflicts with your wife. You said no. Your words were ‘everyone loved Kimmy.’ ”

  “That’s right,” Redmond said. “As I recall, you added that the only person who might have wanted to harm Kimberly was Lily Roberts in a fit of jealously because you had married Kimberly, and not her. Don’t leave town without letting us know where we can locate you, in case we need to pursue the matter further.”