The Case of the Troubled Tycoon: A Gilded Age Historical Cozy Mystery (Shipwreck Point Mysteries Book 5) by Elise M. Stone

Author:Elise M. Stone [Stone, Elise M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-06-23T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 21

It took Titus a half hour to walk from the Chapman house to Arthur Muir’s cottage. Fortunately, it was a beautiful early spring morning, brisk but not cold, and the sunshine was warm on his shoulders.

“If you’ll wait in the parlor, sir, I’ll tell Mr. Muir you’re here.”

“Thank you,” he said and went into the nearby room as the butler proceeded to the back of the house. His eyes immediately sought the location where the cuckoo clock had hung on his first visit, and he breathed a sigh of relief at its absence.

“Strong!” Muir’s voice rang out as he entered the parlor. “I wasn’t expecting you this morning. Did we have an appointment?”

Titus turned to face the bicycle tycoon. He was smiling and at ease, showing none of the nervousness you’d expect from a man who had committed murder the night before. “No. Sorry to show up without notice, but there’s been an unanticipated event.”

“There has?” He waved at a nearby set of chairs flanking the front window. “Come, have a seat.”

His host quickly dropped into the nearest one. Were his knees feeling weak? Titus sat in the other. “Where were you last evening?”

Muir’s eyebrows shot up. “Why, home, of course. As a matter of fact, I was trying to work out the best weekend to have the yacht club’s first regatta. Dashed complicated that was, what with taking into account holidays and the Newport Regatta and when the most people might be in Whitby but not otherwise occupied.”

“Did you leave the house at all last night?” Titus pressed.

“I think I already answered that question.” His voice had dropped in pitch as well as volume. “Stop beating about the bush, Strong. What happened last night?”

“Warren Chapman was murdered.” He carefully observed Arthur Muir’s reaction, which consisted of a slight widening of the eyes followed by the slow, labored movement of his Adam’s apple as he forced himself to swallow.

“Where? How?”

“As to where, it was in his study. And as to how, he was stabbed in the neck with the spike he used to hold invoices and other business paperwork. Or something similar. The weapon, regardless of what it was, from the amount of blood, must have struck a blood vessel. He probably bled to death in a matter of minutes.”

“Ghastly. And you think I did it?”

Titus nodded. “Let’s just say I think it’s possible. How badly do you want the commodore’s position?”

“Not badly enough to kill the man!” Muir’s fingers drummed on his thigh, and then he stopped, rose from his seat, and paced across to the fireplace. He picked up a poker and started digging around in the ashes. “He was an irritable sort of person. You knew him. I imagine there are any number of people who might have considered killing him over some matter or other.”

“Would you happen to know the time?”

“What?” Muir’s eyes flicked to the spot where the clock had been; then he reached inside the pocket in his vest and withdrew his watch. “It’s 10:37 A.

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