The Marsh Madness

“Oh, but he can.”


“We saw him yesterday. He was alive and kicking and kind of a pain in the— I didn’t like him much but he can’t be dead.”

“He died from a fall in his summer home.”

A memory of Chadwick’s cold-blooded smile flashed through my brain. My voice quivered a bit. I never really get used to being close to people who end up dead.

Lance said, “The housekeeper discovered his body at the foot of the staircase, apparently, at—”

“Summerlea,” I breathed.

“Yup.”

“Was he alone?” I thought for a minute of Miss Troy and her slightly shaky hands. Had she had a premonition? It seemed like she was fretting about something. Maybe he hadn’t been well. “Was there a woman with him?”

Poor Miss Troy, so worried and sweet. So welcoming.

“He must have been alone. The report said that the housekeeper found him when she arrived to take care of her evening duties yesterday. They said the security system wasn’t on.”

I sat back on my bed and tried to get my head around this. I had taken an almost instant dislike to Chadwick Kauffman, but I didn’t wish that kind of an end on him. I wondered how he could have fallen on those familiar stairs. For some reason I thought of the leather case.

Lance interrupted my thoughts. “What were the chances that he’d die right after you met him?”

I shivered. “I can’t imagine Chadwick Kauffman racing on the stairs or even tripping. He was so . . . deliberate. He would find rushing gauche and beneath him. You know the type? Cold and controlled.”

“I guess you weren’t in love with him.”

“I wouldn’t have asked him to homecoming, but that’s a horrible way to go. I wonder if he had time to realize what was happening.” I shuddered. What if he hadn’t died instantly?

“Sorry to start your day this way, but I thought you’d like to know.”

“Yes. Mmm. The housekeeper found him. So I wonder where the butler was.”

“Ha-ha. Maybe he did it.”

“There are thousands of comedians out of work, Lance. Better keep your day job. Well, I guess I should get dressed and go tell Vera.”


*

WHEN I FOUND Vera at breakfast in the conservatory, she merely nodded at the news and went back to her New York Times crossword. Chadwick Kauffman—dead or alive—was of no interest to her now that she had her collection of Marsh mysteries. She expressed no worries for Miss Troy or anyone else.

“Take that as a lesson, Miss Bingham. As you age, you must take extra precautions. You cannot go running up and down staircases like a wild animal. The books are quite pristine. We will have to move a few items on the shelves in the library to give them the appropriate space.”

Well, there you go. Priorities.

Signora Panetone shot out of the kitchen with a tower of fluffy blueberry pancakes for us. Maple syrup scented the air.

Uncle Kev is always first to the table for any meal. Without taking his eye off the approaching pancakes, he said, “Not to be a jerk, Jordie, but that guy was kind of a cold fish.”

I gave him the stink-eye, for all the good it did.

“I guess all that money’s sitting there now. Yeah, thanks, Signora, I’ll have four pancakes, please.”

Maybe the pancakes would take my mind off it too.

“Did the butler do it?” Kev said. Or I think that’s what he said. His mouth was full.

“I guess his housekeeper found him. Lance said it’s on the Internet. He had set an alert for the name and—”

Vera glanced up. “No jabbering about the Internet here at breakfast, Miss Bingham. You know the rules.”

“But Chadwick Kauffman is dead, Vera.”

“Horrible little man. Nothing to do with us,” Vera said. “Stop loading up with those things, Fiammetta. One pancake is more than enough for me.”

Chadwick might have been dead, but things were back to normal at Van Alst House.