The Merchant of Venus by Ellen Hart

Author:Ellen Hart [Hart, Ellen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781594932335
Goodreads: 19383272
Publisher: Bella Books
Published: 2011-09-24T16:28:02+00:00

Chapter 25

Come into my office,” said Cordelia, dragging Jane out the front door, across the drive, and over to the crumbling stone fountain. She still had on her tux, but had thrown a heavy wool Hudson Bay blanket over her shoulders to keep warm.

Thankfully, Jane had already put on a jacket and was about to head outside again herself.

“There are way too many prying ears inside that house,” said Cordelia, tugging the blanket more snugly around shoulders.

“I believe the term is, ‘prying eyes.’ ”

“Eyes. Ears. Elbows. Knees. I didn’t hustle you out here to talk about anatomy.” She paced anxiously through the snow. “Boy, this is amazing, isn’t it? Buddy poisoning his brother? At least it lets Octavia off the hook, and that’s all I care about.”

“You never thought your sister—”

“Of course not,” she said flatly. “But Octavia’s been so damn closed-mouthed ever since we got here. I can’t put my finger on what it is, but I know when she’s keeping something from me. At least now I know she wasn’t hatching some plot to off her fiancé.”

Jane hadn’t considered Octavia a suspect. She was surprised to find that Cordelia had.

“Wouldn’t it be amazing if Roland’s death had something to do with that stuff you dug up on Lew Wallace?”

Ever since Jane had heard the patrolman announce he’d found a substance in Buddy’s bedroom that looked like jimsonweed, she’d been trying to imagine what was going on. Sure, she had suspicions that Roland’s death might be connected to that long ago murder—she’d spent a good half hour trying to convince a detective of its relevance—but the more she thought about the whole situation, the more she wondered why the murderer had picked this moment to get rid of Roland, on the day of his marriage. Given the timing, it seemed more likely that the motive had to do with the marriage itself—even with Octavia.

Cordelia continued to pace farther and farther away from the fountain. “I wish that Toscano person hadn’t insisted on closing the dining room doors and then posting that Jesse Ventura look-alike outside.”

“I guess he was worried about prying ears too.” Jane waited a moment, then said, “You know, if you don’t get back over here, all the people with prying ears in the next county will be able to hear our conversation.”

“Oh, all right.” Fixing Jane with a disgruntled look, she stomped back.

“Answer this,” said Jane, leaning back against the fountain and looking up at the stars. “Let’s say the murderer really was Buddy.”

“You doubt it?”

“Just stay with me here. If he did poison his brother, why leave the evidence in his own room? Why not hide it in someone else’s?”

Cordelia patted Jane’s arm as if she were a slow child. “He did it to throw suspicion off himself.”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh, Janey, don’t you ever watch A&E? The murderer always stashes the poison in his own room, then protests that he wouldn’t do something that dumb. He’ll typically say something like, ‘If I was the killer, I’d

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