Page 46 of Death at Inishmore Castle

Kieran had sat down across the table from us. He’d just stuffed food in his face, when Maximillian the accountant cleared his throat next to me.

“Are you going to tell us what really happened to the priest and the nun? I heard from some of the household staff that they were murdered.”

Everyone around the table gasped, their eyes wide. Lizzie and I glanced at one another knowingly.

I looked around quickly, trying to gauge the reactions, but they all seemed surprised.

“As I mentioned to you yesterday, I cannot comment. It is an ongoing investigation.”

“Are they really dead?” Fiona asked. She appeared worried. “We have the right to know if people are dying. Was it foul play? Is there a killer among us?” She dropped her fork as if her fears had just registered in her brain.

“Like I said, we are investigating and we cannot comment.”

“But if they are dead, aren’t the rest of us in danger?” the accountant said. While his questions seemed suspicious to me, I understood his curiosity. I would want to know as well.

That said, why would he create a detrimental situation for his clients? Bringing up a possible murder did not seem like good business. He worked for the O’Sullivans, and his revelation could harm their business.

For an accountant with a stake in what happened to his clients, he didn’t seem to be aware of how damaging his words might be with the other guests.

“No. You’re quite safe,” Kieran said. “Unless there is something you’d like to share with me, Mr. Herbert? Do you know something I don’t? Perhaps you have something to add that will help understand the situation better?” Kieran’s eyes narrowed as he stared at the man.

That shut the accountant up. He stared down at his plate.

But again, why had he brought that up in front of all the guests? As the man handling the accounts for the estate, it seemed like he’d want to protect Nora and Gordon. And he’d definitely just thrown them under the bus.

I felt eyes on me, and found my sister, Rob, and Scott staring at me.

Yep. Mr. Accountant was going to the top of our suspect list.

TWELVE

The mist that had hung over the property earlier in the day had dissipated as we gathered at the front of the castle for the garden tour. At least, the rain had held off for a few hours. Though more was expected later in the day. I was here for my sister, who was excited to learn about the flora and fauna. She’d even brought her notebook and phone with her to take pictures.

The Airendales, Maximillian, Fiona and the others had joined us.

While I would never admit it to Lizzie, I was there to find a killer.

“I know some of you have met him, but again, this is Jim Gilley, our wonderful gardener,” Nora said as she introduced him. “He’s been with us for five years now and has done wonders with cultivating the gardens. He knows so much of the history about the place and how the gardens have developed since the first owners created them. I’ll leave you in his care.”

The giant of a man gave us a genuine smile that welcomed us.

“I didn’t think so many of you would be interested in our gardens. Does an old man’s heart good to see so many of you here.” He put a fist against his chest.

He seemed to truly love his work, and I appreciated that. People who loved what they did had a passion for it that was often contagious.

“Right then, today, we’ll start in the natural gardens. We’ve done a fair amount of transplanting over the years since I came, to make each garden more distinctive. In the natural garden, we have everything from primroses and cowslip to wild clary and wood anemones, all of which are native to this area.”

We walked for a bit down a stone path. He waved a hand to the left. “This garden is one we created since I arrived. Mrs. O’Sullivan calls it the fairy garden. When the Normans came over to Ireland, they brought many of their own species with them. But Mrs. O’Sullivan wanted an area dedicated to native flora and to the fairies.”

My sister was grinning from ear to ear at the mention of fairies. She’d loved finding the fairy doors our grandfather had put into our house and the bookstore. We even had a small fairy garden she kept up under a tree in our backyard. She and Mr. Poe spent most of their time out in the garden. Sometimes working, other times playing.

Jim was well-spoken and took great pride in his work. Sometimes when he glanced our way, I had a feeling he was curious about us. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it.

Not that a gardener couldn’t be brilliant, but it was the self-assured way he presented himself. As if he were quite used to charming people. I don’t know why I found that so odd, but there was something different about him.

By the time we reached the rose garden, even I was into the tour. It was still winter but there were some hardy tea roses blooming through the cold season. At home, the only thing my sister let me touch was the watering hose, and even then, she would supervise. I wasn’t the best with any sort of plants.

I’d been so engrossed that I realized I’d forgotten to ask questions of those around us.

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