Death in the Garden by Isabella Bassett

Author:Isabella Bassett [Bassett, Isabella]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-08-30T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 20

“This way, Lady Caroline,” the Count said anxiously.

How unbecoming nervousness was on him. I scowled at him. I did not need to be shown the way to my uncle’s room.

I hastened and overtook him. Behind me, I could hear the twitchy footsteps of the other Italian chap.

I willed myself not to think about what I would find in my uncle’s room. And I dared not ask. At the door, I paused, took a deep breath, and pushed on the handle.

There, sitting on the brocade sofa, much like he had been the previous night, sat my uncle. He was picking nervously at an embroidered fruit on the upholstery.

Confused feelings welled up in me. I had expected my uncle to be dead, or at least seriously ill. As the happiness that he was neither subsided, it gave way to anger.

I turned sharply to the two men behind me. “What is the meaning of this?” What were these Italians doing, frightening me like this?

“Caroline,” my uncle said, drawing my attention back to him. Pleading rippled across his hazy eyes. “I can explain.”

If there was any sort of explanation about this, I was not sure I wanted to hear it. I looked from Uncle Albert back to the Italians and then to Wilford.

Was this some ruse to catch the killer?

“I don’t know how it got here,” my uncle said.

“What are you talking about? What got here?” I asked, trying to keep the annoyance I felt out of my voice.

“I’m sorry to have to inform you,” said the Count, stepping forward, “but we found the Diva’s necklace among your uncle’s things.” I could see that having to deliver this news made him uncomfortable. Signor Mancuso was much less subtle in his manner. He stared accusingly at my uncle.

I had to sit down. This was not what I had expected to hear.

“Is that true?” I turned to Wilford.

“It would appear so, My Lady,” the old valet said, but did not elaborate.

“But it has to be a mistake,” I said, looking in turn at each man in the room.

“Did you take that necklace, uncle?” I said, returning my gaze to Uncle Albert. The recollection of our conversation from the previous night came flooding back. What if the old fool had gone to take the necklace back after all?

He shook his head. “I didn’t.”

“Well, there you have it. He didn’t,” I said, turning to the two Italians. “Someone placed it here to incriminate him.”

I could see the Count faltering. “Be that as it may, Lady Caroline, it was discovered in his room.”

“It is very suspicious. He was holding the necklace yesterday, and then the necklace disappeared, and now it is in his room,” said Signor Mancuso.

“But why would he leave it here, even if he stole it? Only a fool would do that,” I said. A thought struck me. My uncle was not known for his brightest ideas. What if he really had stashed the stolen necklace here?

Suddenly, I felt extremely tired.

I leaned back and closed my eyes.

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