Chapter and Curse by Elizabeth Penney

Author:Elizabeth Penney [Penney, Elizabeth]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: St. Martin's Publishing Group

CHAPTER 13

“Hey, everyone,” I said, waving the clipping. “Myrtle thought Joan Watson was murdered. Or that there was something fishy about her death,” I qualified. “But either way, someone paid her to keep quiet, looks like.”

“Hold on,” George said. “What are you talking about? Who is Joan Watson?”

Sir Jon stood with fists lightly clenched, a faraway look in his eyes. “Joan was at St. Hildegard’s with Violet and the others. A lovely girl, I remember. Quiet but so bright. She committed suicide in her first year.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “Or so the coroner ruled. Sedatives mixed with wine.”

“She was Daisy’s great-aunt,” I said. “And she grew up in Hazelhurst. “Remember that scholarship, George? Maybe Myrtle created it in honor of Joan.”

George nodded slowly, light dawning across his broad face. “Oh, I see. Myrtle thought her friend was killed and that’s why she wanted to start the scholarship. To rub it in their faces, like.”

“But I don’t understand why she didn’t go to the police,” Mum said. “I mean, I know she was a greedy old thing, but surely she wouldn’t let a killer go free.”

“Good point, Mum.” My mind turned over the situation, trying to see it from Myrtle’s viewpoint. “Maybe she couldn’t quite prove who killed her. Maybe there wasn’t enough evidence. And she held that over the person’s head anyway.”

“That could be,” Mum said. “Even being accused can ruin someone’s life.”

There was a pause as we all considered Aunt Violet and George’s situation.

“We need to know more about Joan’s death,” I said. “How did she die? Who discovered her? And so on.”

Sir Jon had begun to pace, moving back and forth with his hands clasped behind his back. He halted in the middle of the rug. “I’ll make a few calls, find out who worked the case. We might be able to get those questions answered.”

“We could also talk to Daisy’s family,” I said. “See what they remember.” I winced at the thought of intruding on their grief. “Although I hate to reopen old wounds if we don’t have to.”

“We’ll play that by ear.” Sir Jon swept his hand over the videotape cases, the money, and the newspaper clipping. “I’ll show all this to Inspector Ryan, but otherwise, let’s keep it to ourselves. Especially the case with Joan’s obituary.” His expression was grim. “If she was murdered, the last thing we want to do is tip off the killer.”

A thought struck me. Was it possible that Myrtle’s murder was connected to Joan’s death? Maybe the killer had gotten tired of being blackmailed.

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