Chesapeake Crimes: Invitation to Murder. Donna Andrews

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      The colored parrots on the mantel were in the exact same order. But what did that tell us? As Aunt Janet took the invitation from my hand, I glanced at Hubert. He was still in the armchair, peering at the timetable. By now, I’d expected Delphine to interrupt him.

      I looked around. Delphine sat slumped against the far wall. I raced over and crouched next to her. Her skin looked pasty white and her eyelids were sliding shut. What was wrong with her? What had happened?

      “Delphine!” I yelled as she toppled over.

      I thrust my hands out to stop her head from hitting the floor. Her head felt heavy in my palms. This wasn’t the cheery, smiling Delphine I knew. Her eyes were half-closed. She was really sick!

      I leaned her against the wall as Aunt Janet yelled up at the TV screen, “Call nine-one-one! Something’s wrong. She needs a doctor!”

      Aunt Janet raced to the door and tapped in four numbers. The door sprung open, and Earbud Girl ran in, hoisting her phone. “They’re on their way,” she said.

      Fortunately, the paramedics and police didn’t take long to get there. The paramedics whisked a barely conscious Delphine to the hospital. We all wanted to go to the hospital with her, but after Aunt Janet told the EMTs that Delphine had no allergies or medical conditions and hadn’t been sick, one of the officers eyed us suspiciously and made us stay put.

      Just like in the Christie novels, all the players were assembled in a drawing room, and soon a wiry detective strolled in. He stared at each of us in turn, before focusing on Aunt Janet. “How are all of you connected? And how did you come to be here today?”

      Aunt Janet lifted her chin. She looked younger somehow. “I’m Janet Nethercott. My mother, Sylvia, is in the hospital. They asked us to leave while they perform a procedure to keep her comfortable, but she’s…she’s dying of cancer.” A lump in her throat bobbed. “My niece, Delphine, as you know, was just taken to the hospital. As to the rest of us”—Janet nodded at each person in turn—“Hubert and David are my nephews. Delphine’s cousins. And Felicia and Cody are friends of Delphine. We came here to pass the time until we can see my mother again.” The lump bobbed again. “She doesn’t have much time left.”

      “I’m sorry,” the detective said automatically. “I understand Delphine took ill suddenly, in this room, correct?”

      “Correct,” Aunt Janet said.

      “And I’m told she has no reason to have collapsed. She hasn’t been sick? She has no heart condition? Anything like that?”

      “No.”

      “Could she be on drugs?”

      Aunt Janet shook her head. “No.” She looked toward Felicia. “Right?”

      “Right,” she said.

      “And you’re all here today on a break from the hospital, playing this game, while your mother is dying?” the detective said. “Do I have that right?”

      It sounded harsh the way he said it, but it was the truth.

      “That was my idea,” I said. “I just wanted to take our minds off…everything…while we waited to see her again.”

      The detective asked Aunt Janet, “Is your mother a rich woman?”

      “Very, I’m afraid,” Aunt Janet said.

      “Why does that make you afraid?” The detective tilted his head, inviting her to elaborate.

      Aunt Janet let out a long, whistling sigh. “Because it presents a motive for murder. My mother will be gone soon, and Delphine is one of her heirs.”

      “Is that what you think happened? Did someone try to kill her?” the detective asked.

      Aunt Janet gazed hard at Hubert.

       Murder? Was she accusing Hubert of hurting Delphine?

      “Don’t look at me.” Hubert splayed his fingers. “I was examining the train timetable when she collapsed.”

      “But not when she was poisoned.”

      “I have no idea when she was poisoned.”

      “She was poisoned?” I asked.

      Aunt Janet turned toward me, her gaze gentle, then looked at the detective. “That’s the typical reaction, isn’t it? When someone becomes ill suddenly, we don’t assume poison. We do as David did and question it.” She swiveled toward Hubert. “But you didn’t question it being poison.”

      “Neither did Felicia or Cody,” he retorted.

      I turned to stare at Felicia. Her arms were wrapped around Cody, and her head leaned against his chest. She clearly resented Cody’s interest in Delphine. Would she go so far as to poison her own roommate over it?

      Aunt Janet faced the detective again. “If Delphine dies, Hubert will be my mother’s only surviving grandchild. David is a step-grandchild and isn’t in the will. Anything my mother bequeaths to her grandchildren will be Hubert’s entirely.”

      “You’ll inherit, too,” Hubert said. “You could have wanted Delphine dead.”

      “I’m quite well off already, thanks to your grandfather. I don’t need Mother’s money.”

      “Hard to prove,” Hubert mumbled.

      “Not really,” Aunt Janet said. “My mother is still alive. She can tell the policemen herself.”

      Hubert’s eyes widened.

      Aunt Janet stepped toward the detective. “Hubert poisoned Delphine, and I know how he did it.”

      How could she say that? If anyone had a motive to hurt Delphine, it was Felicia. Hubert was greedy and condescending, but I didn’t see him as evil. He could even be nice at times. He’d taught me how to order wine, though he’d done it mainly to defy the underage drinking law, which he deemed provincial.

      “How did he do it?” the detective said.

      “With the letter opener,” Aunt Janet said. “He rubbed poison on it. My guess is he planned to poison Delphine somewhere else and adjusted his plans once you suggested the escape room, David. He used the handkerchief to smear poison on the letter opener without touching it himself. Then he baited Delphine to grab it by saying young women were often the culprits in Christie novels, and they got caught because they were too dumb to cover their tracks.” Aunt Janet pointed across the room. “The opener is still lying where Delphine dropped it. The police can test it for poison.” Aunt Janet gestured at Hubert. “Better yet, check the right pocket of Hubert’s trousers. I saw him put his hand in that pocket after he handled the letter opener.”

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