Murder at the Mansion (A Cornish Witch Mystery Book 3) by Stella Berry

Author:Stella Berry [Berry, Stella]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-06-08T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

“Mr Gossard,” Tristan began.

“I told you, you must call me Bernie, I only want to help.” Bernie leaned back in the armchair and lit a cigar. Morgana tried not to wince at what it might do to the books around them, but she supposed they’d probably already been exposed to generations of cigar smoke or pipe smoke. Behind the curtain, she too attempted to relax and to tune into Bernie’s aura.

It was orange with confidence and vitality, but she caught the wafts of green pass through it and knew he had something to hide.

“I’m glad to hear you say that because I need to ask you an awkward question.” Tristan kept his tone formal. “Could you explain why you were in the Billiard Room last night, and how long you were there? And more importantly, who you were with?”

Bernie paused mid-movement just as he was sucking on his cigar, then promptly started coughing.

Tristan shot Morgana a quick look of satisfaction while Bernie’s attention was diverted.

“Who told you that?” Bernie demanded when he’d regained his composure.

“It’s not relevant, but we know you were there, and we know you came upstairs at around the same time as we suspect the murder was committed, so it would be a very good idea if you told the truth unless you want to be arrested too?”

Morgana was surprised at the amount of pressure Tristan was putting on the other man when he’d been quite gentle with the suspects so far, but she supposed he must have a game plan of sorts or a good idea of how to handle different types of personality. She wondered if it was a skill she could learn.

“I was alone. I simply wanted some quiet time. My wife snores, you know, but don’t tell her I said that. It’s all those pills she takes I think. We’re both fairly insomniac, apparently having an active mind is a sign of high intelligence, or so I’ve been told. But she medicates to get her sleep, whereas I use the time to work.”

“You’re saying you were working? At five in the morning, in the Billiard Room?” Tristan raised one sceptical eyebrow.

“Yes, just planning out scenes, that kind of thing.”

“And you were alone?” Tristan asked, his voice containing just a hint of disbelief.

“Yes.” Bernie was adamant.

“Every moment? Are you absolutely sure?” Tristan applied more pressure.

Morgana gave Tristan a silent cheer for tenacity. The lie had been so clear to her that she supposed he must have seen it too.

Bernie got to his feet, looking outraged. “Be very sure where you’re going with this, Detective. I’m a married man. I was alone, got it?”

Tristan made a calming gesture with his hand. “I’m sure that you saw someone else,” he said, carefully. “There were other people moving about the house last night. Anything you can tell us would be very useful.”

Bernie eyed him warily but eventually, his stance relaxed a little and he sat back down.

“I didn’t see anyone when I came upstairs, but I

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