Page 66 of Death at Inishmore Castle

“You have to get from the judge.”

“Right.”

“Probable cause is you suspect him of murder.”

Kieran sighed. “As much as I might agree with you, there are no fingerprints that tie him to any of the crimes. That said, he is a person of interest. We will keep an eye on him.

“Why do you suspect the gardener?” He flipped through his notebook that he always carried with him. “Jim Gilley.”

I shrugged. “I don’t know really. He knows about the place. He’s only worked here for five years but he spoke as if he’d lived here all of his life. Could be that he’s just a big history buff, but I found it odd.”

“That he was good at his job?” he joked.

“You know what I mean.”

As much as he might not like it, I needed to talk with everyone in the house. Even though the place was huge, someone had to have seen something. And maybe the staff didn’t feel comfortable talking to the police, but they might be more relaxed talking to me, or better yet, my sister. She and Rob were so affable, and people told them all kinds of things. Lizzie would come home with complete biographies of some of her customers at the bookshop. People opened up to her about their lives and she seldom asked them to.

I wasn’t going to learn any more from hanging out with the detective inspector. Well, not at the moment, anyway.

My sister wouldn’t like it, but we needed to speak to the staff.

“I’m sure lunch was upsetting for Lizzie. I feel like I should go check on her,” I said.

He cocked his head, and stared at me. “What do you know that you’re not telling me?”

“Nothing,” I said. “My brain is full, and I need time to sort things out. Like you said, you need to find the evidence that links people to the crimes. Maybe they are even working together. Who knows?

“And I want to check on my sister.”

“Fine. But be careful and don’t question anyone. I don’t want you tipping off our killer or putting yourself in danger. Stay away from the suspects we’ve been discussing.”

“Same song, different day.”

“I mean it, Mercy. This is serious.”

“I’m aware,” I said. My writer’s brain was at work, though. The priest had been searching for answers. It had to be something to do with the items in this house. More specifically, with treasures. But had he been after a painting or what?

All of the facts floated around in my brain, much like what happened when I was trying to organize my thoughts to write my books. I only hoped they would settle soon and I could figure out the next steps.

At least I had a few solid suspects, even if there was absolutely no proof.

“Where is the next class?” Kieran asked. “I’ll walk you to it. I don’t want any of the guests going anywhere alone in the castle. I know I’ve said that before, but I want everyone to understand.”

I pulled the schedule out of my pants pocket and unfolded it. “It’s the clootie dumpling class.”

“My gran makes them best. I’ll take you to the kitchen.”

The dumpling-making took some time. I didn’t register half of what was being said. I was anxious to talk to some of the others,and the staff. But I had to wait for my sister, who was into the proper way to make the dumplings.

As I have said many times before, the only thing I should be doing in a kitchen is eating. Though, from the ingredients, I didn’t think they would be that nice.

They weren’t really dumplings at all. The finished result reminded me of bread pudding and was quite tasty.

After the class, Nora excused herself. “I need to check on my Gordon. Please feel free to eat as many of the dumplings as you like.”

Most of the guests who attended stayed in the kitchen. We stood around a large marble island.

Brenna and Fiona chatted. Maybe it was my suspicious mind, but I wondered about the birder. She had been at the pond with the priest. Could she be the missing piece of the puzzle?

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