“Thank you,” Jane told her.
“How can that help?” Elizabeth asked her. “Our deaths were so long ago.”
“I’m not sure, at the moment,” Jane said.
She left Elizabeth and the room.
Greed was just one motive for murder.
But unrequited love and revenge were two others.
Chapter 8
“There are no secret entrances to the castle,” Emil Roth told them. “But, of course, don’t forget, there are two back entrances.”
“But they can only be reached by the back, right?” Sloan asked.
Emil nodded.
Sloan looked at Logan. Their disappearing figure of the night before could have circled around the castle and come in through one of the back entrances. But what then?
“And there are servants’ stairs that go up to the second landing and the attic,” Emil said.
“Of course,” Sloan said, irritated that he’d forgotten that in old places like this there was bound to be a second set of stairs.
Okay, one mystery solved.
“What are you thinking?” Emil asked Sloan.
“I’m thinking that someone has really been planning on attacking you and is getting rid of others in the hopes of ruining your life.”
Emil looked at Logan. “Do you agree with that?”
“That’s where we need your help,” he said.
“I swear to you, I’m not the best human being in the world, but I’m not the worst. I haven’t hurt anyone in a vicious business deal. I support equal rights. I’m decent,” he said. “Not to mention, the only people here are my employees and you people.”
“Is there any reason, say, Mr. Green, would harbor you any resentment?” Sloan asked.
“Not that I know of. He’s happy, I’m happy. He tells me what he should do, and I tell him to go ahead and do it.”
“What about the maids?”
“I overpay them. They have it easy.”
“And Scully?” Sloan asked. She’d been with him—in bed—but that could have been part of a ploy. Perhaps two people working together.
“Scully,” he said. “I love her.”
Sloan and Logan looked at one another.
“Does she have an ex-boyfriend?” Logan asked.
True, they were both grasping at straws.
“Not that I know about. We started seeing each other about three months ago. Honestly, that’s why I slipped back here and didn’t go to Africa. We needed more time together. We wanted to be sure, really sure that we wanted to be together forever. And we are sure.”
“Why was she so worried about what Mrs. Avery would think?” Sloan asked.
“Because, if we weren’t really certain she wanted to keep her job. You know, everyone would have thought that she was after my money. She was so afraid of that. She has a degree in hospitality, so she could work anywhere. She’s been offered good jobs by the major chains. But she wanted to stay here. Her mom and dad are here. Her dad isn’t well. But to think she wanted my money? That was just stupid!”
There was a tap on the door and Sloan opened it.
Detective Flick was standing there. “Detective Forester would like to speak with Mr. Roth now.”
“Of course,” Emil said.
He followed Flick out. Sloan and Logan came too, but Flick motioned for them to hold back.
“Detective Forester asked that you head to the morgue. The medical examiner called. He has something. We want you to go so we can keep the questioning here going.”
Sloan looked at Logan, who lowered his head to hide a grin. More probable, the medical examiner had specifically asked that the two of them come.
“We’ll head right there,” Sloan said.
“If you’ll be good enough to tell us where it is,” Logan said.
Flick gave them directions, then hurried ahead to make sure Emil Roth made it down the stairs okay. Sloan strode quickly down the hall to tell Jane where they were going. But she wasn’t in the bridal suite. He called her cell and she answered promptly.
“I’m in the office, looking at records.”
“What are you thinking?”
“It’s vague at the moment, but revenge is looking good.”
“Who’s taking revenge on whom?” he asked.
She laughed. “I don’t know yet. But as soon as I do, I’ll call you.”
He hung up and he and Logan headed to the morgue. The village was quaint and small, but the morgue was state of the art. The reverend’s body had already been claimed. Mrs. Avery remained. She looked small and thin lying on the morgue table.
“Here is what I want you to see,” the medical examiner said.
They looked at the shaved head which revealed a dark bruising.
“I don’t know about the reverend, but Mrs. Avery didn’t take an accidental fall. She was struck on the head. And then she was pushed down the landing and the murderer was quite lucky. She broke her neck on the way down. Gentlemen, this is no accidental death. I’m classifying it a homicide!”